Squawk! Beetle in your follicles.
Angry molecules.
I want bugs everywhere!
Haha! Please share!
It’s just a barrette?
Regret! Regret!
But I still want to flail.
Howling quail.
Beetle on my mind.
To find.
Fix your hair, girl.
Beetle in the curl.
He primps that dome like it’s his crown,
A shiny orb, the talk of town.
Shaves that bowling ball twice a day,
No rogue hairs dare to stay.
Refined olive oil, scentless, slick—
His scalp’s own secret, glossy trick.
Then Axe spray rains, a scented storm,
Because the ladies find that charm.
Post-shower, towel wraps so neat,
Humidity’s spa for his heat.
Pores open wide, like welcome mats,
While he admires himself in flats.
Mirrors lurk in every nook,
Catching every shiny look.
Not married yet? “I’m picky,” he grins,
Waiting for love to roll right in.
On his dresser, a brush sits proud—
No bristles live, it’s just a shroud.
A hairbrush purely for show,
To tease the girls who don’t quite know.
No follicles, but full of flair,
Hair-care metaphors everywhere.
A follicle-free knight of sheen,
The baldest king you’ve ever seen.
Ill burn you,
To the ground.
Let the vapors gasp in empty airs around you,
And suck into themselves until nothing is left to drip across these acres of empty soil.
I'll tear you from the very skin aching for leave from the sinew drenched upon your bones.
Frequencies of follicles, a fallacy facade.
Faking.
F'd you into the floor.
Foment you in flames until remnants are but memories, blistering in dust particles, hovered in sunbeams, hanging through naked windowpanes, planked perpendicular against wooden floors, never to be seen again until memory chances you in a whim.
Crack! I lay, beneath me creaking
Hath it taken from me? What to give?
Mayhaps yesternight another seeking
For not many there is to live
It approaches, shaking, floors creaking
To thee I will never forgive
The black, slender arms reach
It thrashes! THRASHES, thrash–
Follicles, it pulls, off me, I screech
With many a fang, I faintly see a gnash
Holding me, gripping such as a leech
Of my being, will you bash?
Desires faintly protruded, of a glare
I wanted to feel an embrace so warm
Instead, I long, gasping for air
Of my strangled state, you aware of enorm
Thirsted for love, endearment not there
Just us, our state one described deform
Despite conditions, not a sound shall hang
As I know we are bound to meet again
Bound, bound beneath thee embrace and fang
Thy body, slim and slime, gets off now then
You’ll return, but you go with a bang
As I am left to wonder when
In between a wand and a warded space
lies an old Book Of Shadows to embrace;
Fee fried foe thumbs,
throw them in as the guitar strums;
Picked over hair follicles and toenails,
A few fast words followed by quick inhales;
Freeze dried pho crumbs,
throw them in as the harp hums;
Now toss in the vibrato of a ghost,
that sound is the recipe’s binding host;
Free fly fall mums!
Fester rich color to smack drums;
Add to that something so easily missed,
subtle allows magic to come undressed;
Fae, fire cauldrons!
manifest the desired outcomes;
In between a wand and the hand it takes,
lies an old Book Of Shadows to embrace.
"I came to the conclusion that unrealized hopes, even small ones, were always wrenching."
~ Nicholas Sparks
when follicles don't rupture
heart does, bit by broken bit
pieces of withholden dreams
shattering, eyes leaking pain
the agony is immense
soul tears that linger unwiped
babies remain dreams for now
unrealised realities
hopes dashed into smithereens
fractured frame of frozen mind
is this called long-suffering?
stillness... the wait continues
And comes the time, oft many sought with blinded eyes that squint into the dark, searching for that in tight grasp with faithless hopes that it be found.
No grudge shall I bear as a traveler his mug, that holds within above a cracked below, a drink for the voyage whose starting is the ending to the eye and mind.
In the open sky I shall hide all that has been, is and no longer morrow.
To remind a scribbler to forget friends and foes. For the mind’s cask shears upon such thought of great appeal.
My time.
To no longer will, but bend, or even break. To be deaf to all, with only hearing for one with a deafening whisper. As the tongue exits its cave, loud be my scream as the bewitching hour.
Search no more.
By your follicles, you would tell as words deny you might… of this scribbler you once grappled in sight.
As he dissolves in his dry ink, I beseech thee again.
“Search no more”.
Hair is meant to grow long and unruly
Who am I to interfere with nature’s treaty with time?
A king’s crown a tangled mess,
so fashion forward of I to sport
the look of a fishing net
Yet I still prefer function, you see
I have salmon-like thoughts, those
zombified fiends stubbornly swim upstream
Keep coasting, keep coasting
Solutions are rarely abundant
However I have heard that
water makes an excellent solvent.
I may stay stationary, waiting
as my wounded body aches,
I worry not, for my head will go
wherever my healer takes
Perhaps then, he will raise my head tall
And my follicles will no longer fall.
The lyric deft and yet bereft, its logic baldly doffed:
an heir in err, a progeny ‘twas not untimely off’d.
In aggregate, the follicles that sprout the facial hair,
protrude a plain that’s primed for pain, as microbes nestle there.
To mow the glade with steely blade creates a field of woe;
the pain-free knight, his own mote smites, so mites midst hair might grow.
Forgive me father. For I know not of what I’ve done. The chalice from a goat’s horn forged in fire, does not adhere to the things of clay. To oversee and administer all the tests you task, done so without as much as a blink is easy.
To bow down to these abominations that I helped create, I could never do. Spare me the details of pride. When a pagan asks to praise the very follicles engineered on the prince’s throne, who wouldn’t take offence?
Forgive me for corrupting the seed on your precious lawn, that you’ll one day mow down...Again. Forgive me for looking into the sky and seeing this as a prison, oppose to a paradise.
Doth thou hate a lion for tearing apart flesh, when that’s what it was created to do? If a tree bares fruit…Tis’ a feast.
Sheets of rain covered my misery
Pouring into the follicles of my hair
Leaving puddles in the crevice of my collar bones
Rain running down my cheeks in cold teardrops
Tasting salt that stings this pain
Hearing your voice like heavy thunder
Bouncing off the walls of dark clouds
The thudding of those loud drops
Piercing my chest and stabbing my heart
Running wet through the corridors of my mind
Drowning under waves of anguish
Running through my veins
6.8.2021
God blessed me with no obstacles as my follicles were fertilized just right.
Giving birth to two beautiful sons, as I rejoiced when they kept me up at night.
Their first words, first laughs, first roll-over, first climb will always be on my mind. The kind of boys that roar, swim, jump, swing, write and conceptualize.
A nuclear engineer on a great voyage, exploring the depths of the sea.
While we sit and await for him to return, and his little brother working his first summer job surviving the Texas heat with ice cream in hand.
As he takes his first date to the ocean sands.
They see no obstacles, they aspire to be great, and that is their leap of fate.
God blessed me.
It won’t be long before
everyone begins to strip themselves
of their own humanity.
It will begin with the hair.
Cutting it down to the follicles
until it is almost non-existent.
Then it will move to the nails.
Plucking and cutting and biting
until our fleshy fingers bleed and our toes rot.
Next, it will be the skin.
Peeling ever so tenderly and folding off our bones
until we’re nothing but internal organs.
Now, bring death to our nerves.
Ever so carefully, we string out the nerves from our insides
steadily taking away our ability to feel anything at all.
Soon, it shall become the organs.
Eyes being scraped out with spoons as
our stomachs quiver from being held in our stinging hands.
After that, it moves to the muscles.
Pulling them from our bones
until we are no more than mere skeletons of what life once was.
We lay there,
lifeless piles of bones and teeth
as our flesh and organs decay beside us,
All for the hope that eventually,
others would see us for our merit
instead of what they perceive from our surface.
Cryptic follicles of alphabetical equations
poised together making sentences paragraphs letters of evasion
in my problem to get attitude for I disagree with your resolution
but I find it odd that you have devotion for someone with so much emotion
I straticize I fantasize I apologize for my bulimic vision coerced at heart
replicated starts my malice is flush down the toilet
not forgiving envisions I've come up to par
Look At me Now Grace given far
Hollar
Hallelujah
11/5/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2020
I want to love you deep
Love you deep down to the
follicles of your soul
deep into your gray matter
and it don't matter how far
you are away from me
I will still possess the ability
to love you...Deep
Deep is how far I want you
to dig to collect the love
I have for you stored way down
into the core of me
That's hidden further than
the human eye can see
So lose yourself in me
as your wet kisses and slow
hand makes me womanly weak
Together we are deep
deeper than any line found
inside a verse of poetry
Our soul ties is what connects
you to me
A bond to last for all eternity
and more solid than
any ******** could ever be
This relationship is more
than our sexuality
a common bond starting with you
and becoming completed with me
Completely we can drown in loves revelry
while watering the seeds we planted
keeping us planted inevitably deep
4-1-2020
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