Every Time You
Do Something
Wonderful,
You Create An
Expectation.
Add It To The Stack, Jack.
Does That Make
Fear Such A
Sadness Enough
For Gravity Waves
Exhaustively Wept?
-Gray Squirrel
11-16-2025
I had a vision,a waking dream.I drove someone,a female to a beautiful secluded spot in nature.It may have been the trail of tears state park.We sat in the car and talked for a while till I asked her would she like for me to take a stroll allowing her some privacy for the storm that was brewing.She said no ,she wanted my presence .Almost inaudibly a sound began as if from the soles of her feet building in volume and intensity .As each resistant cell released what it had long held the volume continued to escalate as it sought a point of egress.Arriving at her wild eyed contorted face she looked at me questiongly.I responded with a look of calm reassurance that she would endure this . it ripped its way up her throat pulling her head back with the force of the long contained explosion of pain releasing a scream that both frightened and awed . A ferral non human wale of a banshee that made the hair stand stiffly at the nape of my neck .
Then she collapsed into an outpouring ,no flood gate
Could have contained removing the last vestiges of the unbearable weight she had exhaustively carried.And then she was well.
The rise, like an inhale
breathe slowly, breathe longingly
The fattening of the dough
the tummy expectant, the tummy expanding
Cocooned in its nest
its stretchiness, its pleasant scents
Like an infant in a swaddle
the soothing towel, slightly moist
The rise, like an inhale
breathe slowly, breathe longingly
The ascent complete
lungs exhaustively expanded, waiting to exhale
The arousing response
bright light, hands stimulate dough
The pushback of palms
elasticity released, globular rest
The rise, like an inhale
breathe slowly, breathe longingly
After shaping the dough
blanket over sleeping creation, one final rest
Our daily bread
of prayer produced, from suffering loosed
The “fourth man” in the oven graced
inner softness, cortical strength
WELL HERE 3rd John 1:2
Effectively, exhaustively, efficiently?
Be it’s well with you;
That you be?
~
As fit as a flea!
Provident;
Conscientiously!
1/30/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2023©
a LUNE POEM
I gaze at you taciturnly all of a sudden.
Expecting to see the geniality eyes again
with which makes me feel so warm.
The day before we reunite in the endless journey,
I will evermore cherish the memory of you.
The reminiscence of the difficulties we had gone through together.
That was faded away gradually.
I just remember the laughter which was caused by you majority.
Only if the wind is still blowing, I will miss you always.
I will look at the vastness of starry sky every night,
and beseech the starlight to ignite your ways.
I will din the wind into calling your name constantly.
We are apart from a very long distance, though.
Only if you would think of me gently
when I’m lonesome and tiredness.
Or you would remember me someday,
I was like a little star that flashed in your life once.
The inexhaustible affection will link us together to the eternity…….
----------------------------------------------------------------
We regret, repent and remorse only when we have lost exhaustively.
The shoelaces untie,
they've been caught by the kitten's eye.
She touches, hesitantly, with her paw,
the lace that rests long on the slope, raw,
to the cool breeze of Mid-January;
next to a window that reveals Her sanctuary.
The sun dresses the top limbs of a tree; its lower bare curves are the hue of a cocktail skirt, with a ripped seam,
that is halfway in the woven bamboo hamper;
that was worn by the church- less Cantor..
and the pine needles
that poke the evening..
they, in sun-light, had the tints of the moss
that recline on the splashed, carved rocks
of a Late Summer Shore.
Now, within the room there is more...
the clutter of a confident craziness
on a wooden scratched glossiness,
upon which belligerently rest, near the kitten's maw,
the chewed 1% spandex blouse, and robicund bra-
they are a tossed sunset over the edge..of Mayan Skies..
mountainous thrusts; Dusk's sleepy eyes.
The books that have begun to be read,
are upon the charcoal foam of her bed.
This portrait is etched within the walls the hue of yellow skin,
exhaustively painted again and again, and again.
I toil and I slave
in the shadows—
exhaustively I emerge
to your rescue
when you feel
the sting of grief
and the hot torrent
of tears.
I cry out to you
to behold me in the light,
but my mouth is closed
to pincers and restraining webs.
How it hurts
everything that I am—
that you see me only
in your pain.
Just watched England again
Wow!
How are we so Bad ????
Its hard to watch
Even for a die hard fan
Its a sham
Maybe they should pay them more
Lol
Maybe they are just Crap
Very , very , very Crap
Exhaustively So
Dawn and Dusk (for Anneke van Giersbergen)
In the dawn of silence,
a pattern of words falls exhaustively upon the shattered shards of sulphur,
on this end dawn.
It begins now,
an event of no significance.
Why is it remembered?
Who will be there to remember
if God doesn't exist to create people?
Who's to say anything happened at all?
You?
There was no event.
written for a singer i like...
My baby loves me, it's plain to see,
she don't wanta go shopping without me.
Although engrossed in the latest line,
loves to see her "sweetums" trailing right behind.
Asks my opinion about everything,
making me feel like a virtual King.
Through Riches, Parisians and all the rest,
for me, says, she's gotta look her best.
She bought us a Jaguar the other day:
in the need to impress me, she don't play.
The home we bought, she found with ease,
extravagant, but me she wanted to please.
I'm just as healthy as a man can be,
she knows the best restaurant's; exhaustively.
I work much overtime, - each and every day,
'cause I know my baby loves me that way.
Oh God, why am I always soooo exhausted.
When ever my computer crashes on me
is when I'm hit with the cold reality thereafter shortly.
Initially, like my computer I crash restfully,
because both my computer and I are usually at each other exhaustively
for many hours at a time everyday, daily,
but then all of a sudden I become panicky,
because through out my mind is now flowing freely the most lovely poetry
and if I don't get all of these poetic verses into text immediately,
that are now flowing through my mind so freely and easy,
all will be lost eternally, buried deep in my subconscious memory.
What A Time For My Computer To Crash On Me!
It's during moments like these when pen and paper come in handy.
Conversationless
I’m not a hermit, a recluse
or otherwise estranged anti-social degenerate.
My IQ, is nothing to brag of, though a little high.
I’m polite, pleasant and usually display good manners.
But my conversationese is less than what would please
a listener, stone deaf operating a jack hammer.
It’s not that I’m stupid,
I’m not.
I’m just systematic,
and perfectionistic.
I think a lot.
Even the most mundane, trivial situation or idea,
I analyze.
I dissect it completely, exhaustively, physically, until it is analytically naked.
It is stripped of all possibilities which provide insight.
I’m just not good company.
I should change.
I think I should change.
I think I should decide if I should change.
Maybe I should decide first what I need to do to change.
Or maybe I should decide what I can accomplish if I do decide to change.
Do you get the point?
Do you understand?
Let me explain it to you again,
and again—and again--------and again------------------------and ag------------!
© Feb 23 2010 Charles Henderson
Sitting in a reserved preoccupation,
Counting down the hours until the bus pulls into the station.
Consumed with an agonizing anticipation,
To once again be flooded with green fields of consumption.
The smell of a scent that is intoxicating,
The taste of sweet cream that is exhilarating.
The sight of flesh that is an art of perfection,
The sound of a voice that has lustful articulation.
Getting harder to think of nothing more,
Than seeing you come through the door.
To see you in your lingerie,
The way you move; the way you sway.
All the senses are restrained no more as my body flinches,
Gripped in your soft caressing clinches.
To have waited for that which was temporarily postponed,
Exhaustively releasing a moan.
@ Tunisia Torres
4/17/2009
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