I wandered lonely and lost in a crowd
My mind wrapped in thoughts so keen to expound
The images to which my heart had bowed
Ignoring the rough noises all around
Struggling was I to find just the right word
To paint the picture I had fixed in mind
It all seemed so far fetched and absurd
Why was my harsh muse being so unkind?
I strode on in my stroll, though steeped in pain
Nothing of poetic form ever came
My struggle looked like being all in vain
Was this to be my sad moment of shame?
Then that damn block dissolved to set me free
Who was not startled by my shout of glee?
I sat in thought and commenced to strum
my head with four fingers and one thumb,
and realized, as I now expound:
the biggest nothing around
weighs less than a pound -
and you thought I was dumb!
Writing the words
I welcome the day
Writing the words
with new things to say
Writing the words
my heart like a sponge
Writing the words
all silence expunged
Every new sound
alive in the air
Every new phrase
unspoken to share
Every last vowel
irreverent of time
Every last breath
gives voice to the mime
Pen in my hand
the journey begins
Pen in my hand
through virtue and sin
Pen in my hand
the Muses surround
Pen in my hand
their voices expound
Dreams of my father
dreams of my son
Dreams hold me captive
dreams rebegun
Dreams in the mirror
dreams that relay
Dreams bringing freedom
dreams — dare I pray
***
Narrative Musings
Poetry
can’t scare me
But then
there’s the prose
Freewheeling
unstructured
I’m lost
in its throes
The words
in my capture
As verse
I sustain
But narrative
musings
I fight
— to proclaim
***
In The Instant
Always the next
poem
always the next
verse
That already
written
retreats
to disperse
What comes
as a presence
stays fresh
to surmise
And freed
in this instant
each word
— more alive
(The New Room: May, 2026)
Don't think I'm an old substance.
I too was, like you, young once.
I am weighed down by silence.
Times have tested my patience.
Why should you speak for my sake?
Why should you expound my words?
Can you heal my every ache?
Do you know the songs of birds?
I'm at ease with what I speak.
Why should you be my mouthpiece?
My accents might be antique.
Yet, do meanings of words cease?
Allow me to speak, my friend.
Or else, I'll shout without end.
I am the Malkizedek, Priest of The Most High,
AHAYAH ASHAH AHAYAH,
I was brought forth before the sons of God,
to administer to The One whom resides in eternity,
created for a single purpose,
to expound the laws of light, truth, justice and love.
Made in secret as a divine tool,
that the One Creator might have one with whom,
to share the secrets of his heart,
His ALL POWERFUL NAME, laws of righteousness and deepest desires,
He wants nothing more than to love His children,
and for them to be happy and free.
Fashioned in mystery known only to Him,
in secret i have come, to expound His law.
Throughout the ages, since before time,
that his purpose might be realized.
For to Him nothing is impossible,
even the redemption of satan.
This is why He tested Job,
Job was an example that samael might learn and accept his fathers light and love.
And know this, all shall be redeemed,
this is The Fathers will,
and He is so great, He shall achieve it.
Jahshua is the Christ, He is the father Himself,
come in the body of a man,
to atone for the sins of mankind.
Blessed be the name of Ja.
AHAYAH ASHAH AHAYAH
Free me from this bold transgression,
Random words without expression.
No clear thought from them unfolding,
I’d rather listen to a scolding.
My plead is this, if not profound,
Please mute thy instrument of its sound.
For better yet it’d surely be,
If some message the reader could not see.
Please add some rhyme, or at least a rhythm,
Expound on something, begin with a given.
They say that the wind as it rustles the trees,
It’s only a wind ‘til one calls it a breeze.
Chaos will come with no rhyme or reason,
To thy own words be true, no need for treason.
Don't think I'm an old substance.
I too was, like you, young once.
I am weighed down by silence.
Times have tested my patience.
Why should you speak for my sake?
Can you heal my every ache?
Why should you expound my words?
Do you know the words of birds?
With my parlance, I'm at ease.
Why should you be my mouthpiece?
Allow me to speak, my friend.
Or else, I'll shout without end.
Women dressed in bright skimpy costumes
streets drumming to the beat of the heat
A blur of eccentric colors expound the air
as we embrace the culture, the vibe...
Resilience, freedom, pride, nothing to hide
as we celebrate with rhythmic sound & gaiety
There is a whisper of moonlight in the air
that tastes up everything in sight, we dance !
Grand parades filled with masqueraded personas
spread the "Spirit of Love" be one with humankind
Calypso music, hip-hop, dance of every gender
kick up your feet, go ahead and surrender !!!
Toronto's Caribbean Caribana, here since nineteen sixty-seven
excitement like this you cannot purchase it at the 7-ELEVEN.
Passion lies not in fear towards cheer,
To conquer unknown gestures behind
Some rare laughter, but so insincere..
Those words, tongues twist around; disappear
Until tears grow no link to being blind.
Fear of long awaited hope shapes care,
Set to beat tricks, lust stages alright
With pure intentions to outsmart stare...
That could lay hold on twists playing fair,
Till laughter couldn't shine bright; its light
And clinch onto tears that caress pain;
Driven by proposed fear's turnaround.
Will choosy purpose does actuate gain?
To cover up a seeming less stain
Not enough to stop laughs, tears expound.
Laughs powered by prospects of lost fool,
Timing brainy approaches cum risk
Of growing fearless life goals on pool,
Dim laughs could rarely survive by rule-
Sets standard fitness, fear barely whisk.
If I see you in heaven,
will you still be eleven?
Or will you have grown into a man ~ dark, handsome, and tall?
And when we converse,
will you be able to expound on the universe?
Or will your thinking still be eleven years small?
Give me a moment while I expound
on a principle our friend Newton found.
Every time you execute an action,
you cause an equal, opposite reaction.
In my way of thinking, this 'ol universe
works backward - kinda in reverse.
Everyone should do what I want them to,
but I find just the opposite is true.
When I instruct my kid, and say "do not".
He only hears "do". The "not" he forgot.
That's not just the way it is with a kid,
adults, too, don't like anyone to forbid.
In my imagination, I can clearly see
just how I'd like everything to be.
For example, say, I want to get that date,
with my crush, but she won't cooperate.
Then, when my interest starts to wane,
now, she begins a romantic campaign.
Her attraction for me starts to grow,
equal to how much I hit the brakes to slow.
Based on Isaac Newton's bright ideology,
maybe I should use reverse psychology;
but that would drive me out of my head.
So, I'll let people be themselves instead.
Sign from the very sign itself? They asked, from you, a sign.
Is all well with these vipers? You thought. Are there mindsets fine?
Shouldn't they be content with the sign of Prophet Jonah?
They asked you to perform as though you're a play persona.
Jonah was in a whale's belly owing to Yahweh's wrath.
Tasting the sour vinegar of strife, he chose the right path.
You should be in the womb of the earth, you said, for three days.
To expound to the world how unique are the divine ways.
Queen of Sheba was pulled by the Wisdom of Solomon
Did she, yet, as though for eternity, last on her throne?
The incarnate has streams of wisdom flowing from his wells.
Is there anyone greater than him who saves from death knells?
You talked in signs about your death, grave, and resurrection.
Shouldn't all these pass through the process of crucifixion?
Poets Expound
Life is a Dream
Is that because
they realize that
everything is impermanent,
nothing is concrete
or everlasting?
We live in
a dream state
where you cannot tell
whether it is
illusion or reality
Where it's hard
to get a grip on what
is actually going on
Poets are an optimistic
group believing in
morals, decency and truth
It's easy to see how
they view Life as a Dream
Beautiful to behold
Fleeting Glory surrounds me
Exalted praises have a lot shall be
Gorgeous, glorious vision
Embrace mine eyes so I spy
The Glorious Freedom Cry
I expound on the righteousness of my Father
Whose grace and mercy like no other
I abide in Him and Him and me,
glorious gesture flourish I be
--- held to be beautiful
4/29/24
James Edward Lee Sr 2024
ARTISTA
prosaic
reality
in footnotes
to history
aspirations
flowering
experience
expressed
as emotions
flourish
&expound
in potent
awareness
particularised
addressed
articulated
literally
in
conscious
concepts
made credible
the improbable
contextualized
filling
space
visited
viewed
revered
or
reviled
relevant
& irrelevant
vacuous
ostentatious
left - field
avant-garde
conventional
traditional
yet
unpredictable
&
unknowable
always
personal
&individual
ever
provocative
objective
instinctive
& interpretative
the enigma
made
manifestto
to
taste or touch
see
&feel
absorb
in
a unique
moment
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