Vision of sunrises and sunsets
Tomorrows uncertain
When alone not alone
The skies watch and observe
Life throws curve balls
Complexity at its finest
Standing in courage for the challenge
Battle mark ready
Tears may fall in the process
Victory comes in the after
Mello breezes
Rhythmical sounds in the distance
Take a little time and just reflect
Silence is peace
Feel at ease
Comfort zone
Piano notes dramatically, but soothe in the aftermath.
Erzurum is lock of Islam estate
May Protector take care of Erzurum
Erzurum is border of believer community
May Protector take care of Erzurum
Youngsters respect to older ones
Try to receive their prayers
Do obeisance to Ramadan's days
May Protector take care of Erzurum
Let their heart fill with inspiration of God
Let their society find the Merciful Lord
From grace of Erzurum i saw generosity
May Protector take care of Erzurum
Written by Alvarli Efe
Translation Onur Ünlü
The term real estate
A false one, perhaps.
If so, why is his grave
Owned by the state?
Luckily, Heaven
If not Hell
Is the only ground
That truly belongs
To every soul and all
-Dharga Nagar Safa
This universe holds a legacy
Bearing your unwritten name
Stand up with passion and dignity
And courageously stake your claim
Stand up to claim your birthright
For it is greatness
Stand up to claim your heritage
For it is outstanding
Stand up to claim your entitlement
For it is exceptional
Stand up to claim your destiny
For it is commanding
This galaxy whispers your future
But your own hand seals your fate
Stand up with gusto and valor
And boldly lay hold of your estate
Who’s putting up them signs everywhere, anyway?
“For sale by owner”
Seems to matter who owns what
What?
What does it mean to be real
Desperate enough to spin the wheel
To be a citizen of democracy
Requires incredible sacrifice
Usually blood and definitely tears
The hypocrisy stops now
With years and years of reckless responsibility
There is an indigenous idiocrasy
On the current state of affairs
Whose land is this anyway?
Mine? Yours?
Theirs?
Return to the Mother
Earth is calling us home
Return to Eden
With eyes wide open
I see
She is everywhere
In everything.
It’s never too late
To impress the Empress
The Green Goddess of Life
And really clean up
Our act.
Stop selling Her short
Stop selling Her off
And clean up after ourselves
Like Mama always taught us, right?
And pickup those ****ing signs
After the sale is made.
When your only home is your body
a home that took a lifetime to build
with your own blood your mortar
bound with your own bruises brick by brick
when you are cut and measured by your parents
but still find a piece of fertile land
on which to build your home and tend a garden
with the sweat and tears of friends
to have the state tear up your deed
and evict you like you never lived
WINTER COLD ESTATE
winds a brisk soar basks
bliss frozen breezes cold sores
naked trees blossoms
~
soul cold blistering
winters winds challenges waves bright
cooling winds a blow
1/17/25
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2025©
As I shift in place
I'm in a daze
Wondering for great maroon
The taste of joy
The taste of love
I want the taste of you
Your heart collides
With shards of mine
Broken as can be
You mended up
We say what luck
And go on to be free
Our eyes connect
And light is bent
Like a giant black hole
My world is you
I'm staying true
You make my heart feel full
I love you so
But I didn't know
The distance would hurt your mind
You left me there crying
Now there's no denying
You weren't a person who's kind
This isn't the man
I held his hand
We don't share a thought
You changed too much
Now I feel no touch
All I wish is forgot
Although you still have my heart
You took it apart
And the shards are here again
They'll collide
Many more times
With others able to mend
I'll end this vanity
With a word of density
Towards our broken fate
You left me no choice
But to rejoice
The honeymoon estate
My father died
or changed but I
think that's the same thing
Because the man he was
still sits on my shoulders like a bruise
Why did he do this to me?
Why did he hand it over like it was anything that a child should hold?
Why can't I put it down?
They said poetry would help they said the art would be an outlet but it isn't an outlet this doesn't feel good anymore it feels like resurrection it feels like a fracture it feels like the longest suicide note anyone has ever written and I can't put the pen down i can't stop screaming I keep feeling all this rage well up in me and I don't want it anymore but I can't give it to someone else it isn't fair
“Truth
a distraction”
the media pouts
Constricting
those voices
trying to shout
Dumber
than dumb
brain dead by degree
Digging new graves
for the few
— still left free
(Dreamsleep: April, 2024)
No estate should be able to turn away health inspectors,
No estate should be able to turn away ambulances,
while bleeding internally,
No estate should need to employ so many muckrakers,
or bush lawyers.
No estate should hold so many water rights,
if they pour cold water over journalists,
who want to investigate,
No estate should hold so many gun licenses,
until shooting oneself in the foot is no longer endemic,
No estate should be given awards for mediocrity,
No estate should have license to print money,
to pay for influence.
No estate should be bereft of microscopes,
or access to an eye specialist.
No estate should hold so many contracts out of state,
to stifle competition,
No estate can survive without bread and butter
or an understanding that no freedom is absolute.
No estate can survive when it no longer sees the need to spellcheck,
and uses words covered in sauces past their use by date,
No society can survive when it has a fourth estate,
that no longer pays heed to the edicts of,
Walter Cronkite or his ilk.
Red barn in the country
sunny parcel of farmland
ploughed field and heavy machinery at rest
Chickens free ranging
jersey cows grazing the pasture
and the dog runs as it pleases
Soaking in the sun
horses within white fences overseeing
soft hills with haystacks neatly bundled
Two rocking chairs on the veranda
swing hung under the porch
on cool nights smoke billows from house
Vestige of years gone by
the ranch outliving its use
a lifestyle foreign to cityfolk
Grandkids out exploring a field
and soon-to-be abandoned barn
in plain view: Sold over the For Sale sign
AP: 3rd place 2022, 3rd place 2022, Honorable Mention 2026, Front Page Pick 2022
The special section in The Times,
Intended for the rich,
Showed real estate available
If homes you’d like to switch.
You need a fitness room or pool?
A chamber for the maid?
Six bathrooms and a terrace
Showing Central Park displayed?
Imported marble in the baths?
A cellar for your wine?
The latest in technology
And elegant design?
I don’t require all that stuff;
There’s nothing I am missin’
Especially compared to those
Without a pot to piss in.
Advertised as an Estate Sale
Which I took to mean
Not just yard sale discards.
Here are some
Of the things you could obtain:
Aluminum baking pans
Plastic punch bowl
Four segments of track from a train set
Discolored tea-towels with embroidered edges
Christmas themed throw pillow
Velvet painting of sailing ships
Flimsy dollar-store wall mirror
Cheaply framed picture of Jesus
A used tire with "free" sign taped to it
Tupperware, a bit stained
Tiny shelf for back of toilet
Chipped bowls and plates
Mismatched spoons
Wobbly lawn chair
Book club mystery with coffee cup circle
Bread basket, slightly crushed
Half a box of staples
Cookie tin, rusty inside
Fragile teacup with handle glued back on
Melamine resin plates
VHS tapes in sun-faded boxes.
The leavings of a life
Can certainly be sad.
[Exasperation! who can love as this poet?
A host to the heavens and bleeding life?
Conferring words as exchange between God -
angels and mankind?"\]
How his body will end up in dark spaces
and small places -- Palid, stiff, naked!
Yes, jokes! I do make them! Ah! When I
hear these angels speak! Ha! The ones
who left divine dwellings for this rock
called Earth! My fallen 'friends' upon
this clay! Becoming nothing at all!
How they dared! Leaving the brilliant
living light for darker regions.
To what unknown region borne, wilt thou now
wing thy distant flight?
Anguished and empty but can hear and see
humanity grow -- they: pale, cheerless,
and forlon!
:: 09.15.2021 ::
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