Contest : Write a Beautiful Verse
Sponsor : Constance La France
Third Placing : Standard Contest : Jan 26
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“Without the Female Human Form, life as we know it, would fold & our entire Cosmos would be the lesser. Whatever it looks like to egoic vision, it encodes powerful human birthing energies, therefore is the most Beautiful Creation.” : Poet
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Sacrosanct female form, undulating curves receptive
from soles, toes to nine openings imbibe Gaia's yields
crown maned entice Sky gifts, gaining sons, daughters, fields
arms, buxom or slender circle efforts, keeps us from harm
plump-honeyed baps drip milk feeding mouths sucking charmed
bellies endearingly blood-nurture life's births
caboose ebony or ivory mirrors omni Earth
phalanges stroke or wrinkled contained, nuances claim
spine serpentine homes mutating blue violet flame
coral lips mirthfully melt flesh intoxicate fruity
its purpose inspiring cameo nurturing, a duty
Female Form, embodies Now Power Beauty !
Flames that ignites
bright red at its core,
ravenous hunger linger
overwhelmed by its
hot desire and through
the night it burns,
its visible heat scorches
the skin of its next victim,
leaving a mark of sole
ownership, it kisses
endearingly seducing
in enchantment,
torturous feeling reigns
in a field of thrones caused
by a leakage of subtle
attraction,
a rose in its prime curves
and twists along these
spikes being
tormented,
suffocated,
coddled violently,
but its beautiful sight continues
to call the
Master of Silver Tongue,
Eyes of Lust and Passion
sways its prey shackling
its heart for a moment
of pleasure.
(A triple acrostic)
F - Faithfulness
F - Fervence (significant reverence)
F - Feeling good with neighbors
A - Ambitious and admirable you
A - Acknowledging animals endearingly
A - Apple to my eye… oh my…
I — I love You, Lord of Accord
I — Imagine illuminating illusions and allusions of appreciation
I — Ideas flood my brain of beautiful benevolence and brilliant blessings
Tension-whelmed and…yet…
Tormented by uncalm spirits in the realm of resurrections unknown to me…I’m of the Spirit, not man alone
Tranquility matters to me and I’m all on my own…humans are unreliable and always changing, yet God never changes…He’s incredible and dependent on our peace-making skills and talents of plenty
Hope I have faith too no doubt! Walk His narrow route…
How about a handshake of gentility? What about you free me from my captivity? Sin has enslaved me inwardly
Handsome hurts…
like opposite shoe sides, tightly secured together
meeting each other’s needful strides, two different species
making sure-footed, secure bow-ties – though truth seldom in
mating’s many polished, too often only briefly
vowed male and feminine lies~
wide-open
complicit eyes – love’s poetic tries endearingly
written and playfully recited-spoken --
both faux and pure leather, cured, laced
though not always eternal, for the breeding moment
fashionably unbroken
or one night we stand lie down together
as the house-glass and stone
sometimes no greater evil~ just the separation of alone
I would harken back to passions of realm sublime
As melodies of beloved past endearingly chime
Appealing to yesteryears when love was in prime;
If only I could endeavor to journey back in time.
Strolling with you in springs of blooming meadows
We will greet paradise, euphoric thoughts renew,
Indulgent in amorous music heartbeats compose;
If only I could decode secrets, musings of souls coo.
There would be no laments, no recollections irate,
Nary a hint of grief, clenching strife would berate,
For heavenly bliss in your domain will forever elate;
If only I could manage to alter the course of fate.
I will restage how dear-Venus inflamed our mood
As astral orchestra strummed twinkling stellar tune
While courting your fervor waltzing stars wooed;
If only I could succeed to entice the doting moon.
I remember your smile, lauding blushing twilight,
Enamored in lyrics of hearts, fervent verses recite,
O, those moonlit desires would rekindle tonight;
If only I could seduce, reveries of romantic night.
April 16, 2023
This or That, Vol 17 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
On the gilded edge of evening, birds sing a song nearly long forgotten, and I am brought back to the very There and Then that only I have intimately known.
There where my heart is happiest, is at home. Then when yester-me watched sunsets and sunrises dazzle glitterly over the town, and believed I owned it all. There where I can be the most me. Then when I was endearingly naive.
I can still feel the sun streaming through those pines, still smell the jasmines and honeysuckles under those oaks, still see the town sprawling at my feet from when I stood atop the reservoir to take it all in.
And I absorbed every last drop of it, became my own memoir reservoir, loving and living a yesterday that etched and penned and painted and poemed the person I am today.
April 11, 2023
*written at the age of 42
To Father with love. You Raised Me in the new day from.
A covering Midnight's love you hold me ever so
Quietly you are a Chosen One you instilling me
If I reference you endearingly my Father love you're from heaven you're the Breath of Life above--
Father you choose me, Adorn me, everso love me
You touch mine heart, kissed me your breath of life
Reasurrance always present my ever blessing
You cover me in a new way Always provider, never my divider
In midnight love you set your over me always
And I thank U God
And I thank U Lord
As the Angels bow down around you
as I lift my voice for it is in you whom I have found true
I worship you, I Adorn you and I love you ever so true
always shall I do until the end
never being the end eternally always reverence dear Father with love you raised me in this new day
and I am so thankful for you Always and Amen
10/30/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr (c)
I heard a song today so sad
it made me cry
I know not why
And up until then I was having
1 of my better day's in many ways
But yet it stayed with me both today
and yesterday come what may
I know not
Why the jumper on the bridge I just
had to push
As inquisitive of mind as am I pondering
where on earth in fact they would land
And who would play me in the band
when morning wake's
This record really put the needle in
now all I hear is cracking afterthought
burrowing a hole into my mind
And this may not be the last tear I
shed over it but that only means
it left it's mark
I know not why
Only that in some small way I could
relate and that i was touched enough
to make me want to jump
Matter's not where I land even if it's
down a blackened rabbit hole
So long as I have my trusty lucky erstwhile
companion rabbits foot to keep me company
I endearingly named Tripod as he only has
3 feet on which to Bunny-Hop along
around on
And did I mention Tripod is made of
1 part Milk , 1 part Dark Chocolate
And comes to visit me for a week
every year religiously in April
coincidentally right around
Easter time
As I stand mindfully, facing mirror of my life,
Juxtaposition of yesteryears’ reflections revive
Mountains of grief and valleys of despairs,
Heartwarming wins and heartbreaking losses,
Echoes strumming joy and shouts in the void;
Thinking of plans shelved, dreams deferred,
Tears of rejoice and bawl of lonesome cries,
Past of dawns darkening on nebulous skies,
Cheerful episodes evoking days of sunshine
Ambivalent in discourse of seasons gone by;
Distraught in endeavors strived, but failed,
Overjoyed in laudable, worthy achievements,
Saddened by the hollering of indelible regrets
Callously crowding the path of my ambitions
On avenues not taken, of choices forsaken,
Competing for space in the mirror of my life;
As memories euphoric verbalize photographs,
And stories euphonic stoke cherished laughs,
And celebrations clap the sound of applause,
Endearingly revered and treasured lifelong,
Where, as I cogitate, recalling a life sublime,
Man in the mirror smiles, content with his life.
May 7, 2022
Placed 3rd: In the Mirror of Life Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
Pray Bapu1, we’re in plastic age,
Stay happy installed, tall on stage.
Too bad, your birthday prayer meets,
Rows of stark chairs staring in rage,
If your spinning wheels still rotate,
They just spin for a page-three page.
Your ideals may well still be there—
Safe and secured, captive in cage,
When so I see your smiling face
On a wall, O innocent sage,
I wonder at your memorial:
How long shall live your tall image,
In a ritual lip service, though
People would doubtless still engage.
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Bapu1: Father, as Mahatma Gandhi was endearingly called.
It is customary to remember Mahatma Gandhi on his birth anniversary of 2nd October. Saddened, this poet too joins in with this Ghazal.
Reminiscing |02.10.2021| Ghazal
The beach ran into the surf
exposing her body, showcasing a creature
heavier than the vogue
yet graceful in the swell and spume,
more adapted and fluent than the leaner
more angularly lank ideal.
Water turned her curves,
curled endearingly over
her aqueous movements.
Later at the Tiki
we drank gin and tonics
everyone else had umbrella cocktails.
A group of loud drinkers giggled
looking her way.
I saw her eyes wince,
the way baby seals eyes may do
looking up at a looming figure,
not really knowing friend
from a club wielding ape.
Love little dears erode to lovers as a couple
Onot chews chocolates and drinks red wine
Vague desires wish seals love with a decent kiss
Estrider passions stops on hold endearingly reserved
1/12/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021
Where
Blue sky
Meets vigor
Of azure lake,
Golden light frolics upon amber waves
While little girl sits, conversing with duck;
Endearingly
Whispering:
Feel my
Love.
August 16, 2020
Double Tetractys Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Eve Roper
Photo #1
Enthusiasm sweeps me up and
tosses me casually into the wind.
I travel heights never travelled before
To far away places
Smelling flowers not fully visualized
More fragrant than any earthly daisy
The sights are vague as I am tossed about,
but gently, endearingly
I do not argue or fight this freedom
I am feeling, unencumbered
in every way, an honor to my gypsy soul self
Encouraged to create art in a variety of forms
God given utter joy and permission
to create whatever I desire with bliss and love
You are nothing to me now
beyond a dream quickly forgotten.
The pine tree yearns for you
and the Aster's cry;
as for me, my love,
you are the stream far from the sea.
Once we loved-
that's certain.
Once we laughed
strolling through the Autumn grass
on a lambent afternoon;
hand to hand, heart to heart
endearingly conjoined.
Should the mourning dove
call your name
so clearly from above;
I reject the solemn dirge
of the sad, sad song
they say is love.
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