Automobiles and dwellers, both got a life.
Easy and haughty from the glimpse of sight.
Cars greet one another apprehending a horn Wading through the motion of life.
This is what one say an eye for an eye.
I, the oldest, bristled With the tales.
With ardour in each other full of faith.
Countenance on vehicles and dwellers prevails.
Awful the situation is to exhale.
Tears from the sky, Dawn from the sun.
Cry for the reaproachful Situation at burn.
Shoddy lives ,those susceptible To the nature.I feed in the glance of dreariness of the life.
02/10/2026
Fog as thick as Joe Pye's bed straw
While daffodils bloom in awe
While rain drips from plants' and house's eaves
Rain chills as does the breeze
Still, cold morn as the sun rises
Sunny day even though wind compromises
Star magnolia blooms against gold sun
Cold crisp day when all is said and done
Robins, blue-birds feed in front yard
Confused geese won't get in formation's scarred
Needed pouring rain, all of nature enjoys
Sweet aroma of banana bread doesn't annoy
The sun rose golden to clear against a horizon blue
As the sun set magenta was cast against blue for you
The sun rises to warm a very cold day
It sets mostly covered by clouds of gray
02/17/2026
When I was young, my mother used to say,
“When you grow up, go past the seven seas.”
She spoke of ships that sailed from the India’s bay ,
To England’s shores in the old colonial days.
When I first flew to Colorado’s sky,
I soared with the KLM in royal grace.
From DC-3, I knew not which seas I crossed,
Through Manila, Tokyo, & Honolulu’s place.
Now here I dwell by the Pacific’s shore,
In California, sunlit evermore.
The water blue, the restless waves arise,
For diving, surfing—freedom under skies.
The mountains, forests, cliffs all meet the beach,
Where bears at night and seabirds feed in reach.
The music of the waves sings soft and wild,
The days drift slow, the heart turns free and mild.
The beaches deep, the waves can sink a ship,
Beware the jellyfish on fishing trips,
If walking with a cane, bring forth a friend,
For bluffs descend where beach and cliff shall blend.
A super computer
Is coming for my lines
It thinks faster than me
By several thousand times
First it was chess
I thought it my domain
I can’t compete now
It’s driving me insane
It’s better and better
Not awkward at all
Feed in an idea
Or Tale rather tall
No spelling mistakes
Grammar precise
The jokes on me
AI ain’t very nice
It can write copy
Or a hit song
Damn it’s so good
I want to sing along
But in the end
It’s no good you see
Writing what I write
Brings joy to me
Artificial Intelligence
No heart or a brain
I prefer human
Forget the mainframe
Inspired by a conversation on Poetry Soup about AI. Mystic Rose started the conversation.
You know where he's at
He been in Gotham,
Whole city lit,
He grew and blossomed.
What he touches, he flips,
Moves with caution,
Always asks if you good
Load up attachment.
Map in his hands,
Survives in the woods,
Light up a match
He’s good in the hood.
Hustle forever, forever he should,
Walked through a path
With booby traps like the Goonies would.
He grew up a man,
Can’t leave the trap,
Needs a bag,
Pillowcases with chicken feed in the lab.
Standing on business,
It’s buried in the back,
Delivers the mail
On a mission
Tunnels and trenches,
Benches stay cold,
Carries the heat
Like a thermal
He don’t bend, don’t fold,
Can’t stay consistent at home.
I’m the Joker
Can’t be controlled.
A lover and a brother are heavy.
Recounting the contents of life is work.
A vessel holding unaccountable dust
may be volumes for a biographer’s notepad.
“I miss she real bad!”
Whittled words.
Ponderous, leaky expression
surrendered by gross vulnerability,
and maybe a short lexicon.
A lover and a brother
and their handheld tomb,
this wild man pair in tropical print-
cotton tops mirroring loopy island ladies
under pineapple/banana coronets-
standing shoeless upon burning shores,
bearing their dead love,
gone sooner than hope had promised...
fish feed in a jar.
Mother Bunny had her hands full with six.
They were bouncing around, adding friends to their mix.
I want them to be social, she said to a friend.
But How many children must I feed in the end?
I know you can handle it, her friend said, you are the best.
Maybe this beach vacation is a bit of a test.
If it is too much, next year you could stay at home.
This might please your neighbor, Mr. G.T. Gnome.
Mother Bully laughed, for G.T. was a good friend.
But he always invited himself along in the end.
She almost felt guilty for leaving him back home.
But she had her hands full enough without a grouchy gnome.
She is lavender
Daughter African
God's daughter radiant true
She's lavender fairer than Blue
The Sun shines it's you
on her she's true
devoted to only one
Jesus has seen in her heart
And He has impart
A beloved who has gone down to his garden
to the bed of spices to feed in the garden
And to gather his gain feet uncovered moist and wet
Covered by the rain
Oh, daughter of Jerusalem
If you find yourself waiting
Don't be disenchanted
Don't be not encouraged
For God has you abating there is sunshine above you
The kiss of God is upon you
And you know you're His
He surrounds you with the best of things
With the best of things
You are the dove that flies
In the cotton
The breeze is sweet
It touches your feet
Your a rose without thorns you're God's Daughter
what I song your lavender
You're pure than gold
And when the love of God gathers you
She is God's daughter
She's Lavender
6/22/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2022
perched on a high tree
a blue jay lookout screeches ~
swift bristling of crests
[when blue jays feed in peace, their crests are lowered, but
become raised when danger is sensed.]
https://www.howmanysyllables.com
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Bird Haiku Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Tania Kitchin
Placed 3rd
© 16th March 2022
The doubter's eye yelled, "show me, god."
Go for stroll in quiet cloud laud.
Look where he might track down calmness.
Who can see black bug fold their nod?
Who sees our veins in the darkness.
And wowed the bloodstream in process,
And views embryo's feed in the womb,
Though hears and sees what is voiceless,
Love is clearly starting to bloom.
And knows what he claims in the gloom,
On the vast seas, warm ships of chance,
Wind, blowing past your flower's tomb.
Rising one's rate of mindfulness.
Looking backward to your justness.
We've been imbued with a pulse feast.
Bringing the soul's grace to brightness
Bliss, wholeness In a calm exist.
Keep god's still voice in the spirit.
Grace strike when our ego is shorn.
Praise, the soul's promise, mends the beast.
Rubaiyat Form, HMS check
Written: January 22, 2022
Show Me God Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Unseeking Seeker
Lockdown kills the poor
The world is changing
Who got eyes let them see
The poor is slowly dying
Their pains are unbearable
It use to be hard to survive
But now is harder than
It use to be
How can the poor be
this more poorer
Alot of job lost
Alot of income chattered
It like a systematic warfare
And it silence kills more
Than the virus
Lockdown kills the poor
How can you lock a hungry man down
Without a basic necessities
How could the third world feeds
It own in this era
Before this time
Somany can't feed in the third world
Somany are out of job
Somany are out of the balance
Of life
And now never bring no good
Instead it bleeds the opposite
It so sad when the poor is locked
With out no help
An African youth once said
And I quote
Richard the hunger virus
Kills us more than the covid
When I am old and very gray,
I shall retire to a cozy little cottage
Near a pleasant seaside village
Where neither pesky mosquitoes roam
Nor deer feed in my flower beds.
I shall call this lovely place my home
Where no strangers ever dare pillage
I shall live out the years of my dotage
In this fantasy place far, far away
When I am old and very gray.
written July 20, 2021
submitted to "Finding Your Muse" poetry contest
sponsored by Regina McIntosh
FIRST PLACE WINNER
Brian Strand Poetry Contest
July 23, 2021
Once a summer
Like a beached whale the rowboat lies on its side
its bottom had been tarred and the aroma mingled
with ozone of the sea.
When the tide turns the boat will float again and look refreshed.
Seen from the wooden pier the sea is crystal clear
looks emerald.
Small crabs and tiny fish feed in the shallow.
When the sea slowly inhales and exhales pebbles softly fizz.
The sky is the sea´s lover, doomed to forever be apart.
The sea pulls me closer it is hard to resist no be absorbed
by its beauty.
Dogs eat cats, cats eat rats
Rats eat things that fall from bats
Bats eat bugs, bugs eat trees
Trees that fall on birds and bees
Birds and bees and bugs on logs
Logs and trees and polliwogs
Hungry fleas that feed on dogs
Venus fly traps feed in bogs
Napping gnats and flapping bats
Rats and rabbits pulled from hats
Cats with habits chasing rats
Bats make rabid habitats
Copycats and acrobats
Swinging with the alley cats
Wigs on pigs and hats on hogs
Should’ve quit with cats and dogs.
Submitted to the "If Only, Maybe, Sometimes" Poetry Contest
On August 4, 2020
Lips feed in joy of her mum,
feet kick in glee to her hum,
My heart beat taps to her song,
Drop by drop rain on a drum!
3rd placement
Let Pens flow
Sponsor Jenish Somadas
Written 20/03/2020
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