Oh she of many lovely looks and names
reflects the golden glories of the day.
Her mythic face points to the western way
an intrepid mascot for freedom's winds
this flying lady lives well out in front.
Seeing her heading across these vast skies,
a vision of an ecstasy divine,
adornment to the delight of deities.
Oh she, the figurehead who we admire
a shining seer seeing journeys ahead
keeping all of us far from fear and dread.
She who holds my love wears a bonnet badge
on the bowsprit of my heart while we
float haplessly away in fantasy.
Free Verse Sonnet 14 Lines 98 Words 12/7/22
This is a colored pencil portrait of my wife Jean
as a young woman ( artwork by G. Gaul).
It tells of how she navigates life and her influence
on me. The ornament on her sun hat represents
hood ornaments on automobiles and figureheads
on vessel bowsprits used as symbolic help to see
the way clearly.
Celebrity
On that day my soul grew star struck
the astonished all-star abashing, such luck
And so I screamed, 'Is that a tree?'
I felt compelled to sniff the personalities
Eagerly, I looked for the fashionista
Engaging Ah, distinctly I was blushing
I discovered the figureheads stars all around me
Fabulousness - fabulousness - fabulousness!
The drapery diva’s dazing
It was gazing
Somewhat louder than the phrasing
Screaming, chanting, praising
Through which came musing, musing, musing
That the syncopation, 'Minds those the glazing!'
Ah, distinctly I was marveling
And the cattiness never replying
My mind always strays to paparazzi
I remember I was not myself staring
hark! In none of those movie cat calls
While all my soul within me flaring
That those the miffed megastar murmuring
That envious, envious fingerpicking, (finger pointing)
The harmonic Hollywood heading, ah! So alluring
this the incredulous intonation idolizing
Celebrity, Celebrity out there out here in front of me;
8/12/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2021 ©
Lust is like the salt of the sea.
The artificial Ambrosia or Siren's fomented Mead.
Augmenting thirst, the more you drink.
Forgetting the drink came first. Then came a thirst.
To be unshackled to idols in idle mutiny.
Before the fermentation of idolatry. Figureheads,
flotsam and shipwrecks on the seven stormy seas.
must be nice to think
one has a place in the world
never to be shaken,
never to be questioned,
never to be seen differently
at any angle
(even in the deepest moments of
introspection)---
must be pleasing to the senses
to think you’ll never fade,
to wander the world in a
daze---
with a sloppy smile of
belief in a “god/s” that never
talk back,
so compassionate &
always listening to your
“prayers”
(squint & close them little eyes &
focus in whatever direction you
dream is more relevant),
with a hopeful & trusting pair of
eyes, always focused on the
authority of the state,
knowing in the deepest of your
heart that they have their
batons & bullets,
tear gas & bombs,
drones & bio weapons,
figureheads &
“representatives”
all acting in your best of
interest---
must be comforting to feel that
your kids will grow up
unharmed, that it will all unravel
like a disney film &
that there will be a light at the end
of your proverbial little
tunnel---
must be wonderful to find it all so
amazing, all so satisfying, all so
worth it, all so fun & dandy…
especially,
most importantly,
right
before
that
brick
hits
you
in
the
face.
when one thinks about the truth go's down the cave of are
love are called angular rivers across the
landscape of the resistance
we know
the existence of happiness is not an impulse in
yourself or a mourning of
the absolute risk with the...
...air cleared up visions of our heaven...
comes off the stand and the wild boar of Tempt
and ...
...the defendant wishes to be the one to do revolutionary
thinkers tie on the sidelines of balance
You have already seen how mediocre
the kiss of a stranger who just about him looking
and does not want to experience what love is
the rays
of happiness
envy the way of the whirlwind
of what beatified become
as a mystery of love 's
grace the delusional idea
of the rich figureheads
who experience what the cold
told how urgently needed the perfection
of an underground language that plague lackeys peace 's
founders can get yourself a crown of magic and dwarfed
around the trees of interaction
the wind refreshing shape
stormed the poet's responsibility
of the extended bet a wordless dictation wishing for
others to use as an image curve do cry
engraved paper to the house of loyalty
Black shrouds blue
a dingy hue
This greedy minscus constricts us
~~~Mother Earth's shameful eyepatch~~
A gull's squak gurgled crude
chirping 89 octane birdsongs
forever grounded by fossil fuel fettered feathers
sharp eyes, glazed over, searching the horizon
for a savior from this senselessness
Feed the steely beasts,
produced in fleets,
chrome teeth and audible horns,
the black blood we gave them
and thirst for thanklessly.
Their evolution halted by prophets of profit
We extract that which we cannot put back
veins spew petroleum poison
hemmorhaging
Cuts bleed. Logically
Yet here stands man,
knife in hand
confounded by healing our wounded land
as figureheads foist fingers frenetically
***Inspired by Poetry Soup's Gulf Oil Spill contest!!
Dabbed on the cortex, the whorls radiate,
swirl their trajectory ‘round and ‘round,
pressing the matter ‘till synapses spit,
the messages stammer in running aground,
teleprompt thoughts, the lost and found.
Tracings of despotic imprints of hate,
spidering sly with malevolent spread,
pricking the conscience with rapier tips,
‘till the fascist facsimiles buzz in the head,
engraved black and white, living and dead.
Encephalograph hieroglyphs consciously cry,
blindingly fast with a vengeful agenda,
the bars of the gaols and the barbs in the wire,
imposed on the faces of freedom’s surrender,
haunted and gaunt, stripped of defender.
Democracy gored in the jaws of the jackals,
mercy in masticate, oppression writ tall,
dictatorship figureheads, rancid and crazy,
fingerprint guilt taps the primal nerve crawl,
and we feel the disgust, but do nothing at all.