Cassie, a green faced witch could not find the right kind of man
I think I’ll make an elixir and create him, she would deadpan
She actually did it, wearing her fanciest ruffled dress
It had not been ironed, so was a bit of a mess
Her purple hat had rosettes of green, fuchsia, and teal
She incorporated a few items she got “in a steal”
her red curly hair got close, and a few of them dropped in
He came out perfectly lovely with bright pink skin
Sorry she said, but I wanted a green-skinned guy
He jumped out of the cauldron and showed that he could fly
she got on her broom and chased him off over a hill
spoil alert, this did not have a happy ending for this guy named Will
He got tossed off his broom and fell into a rather deep pond.
Cassie cast a spell, and he turned into tall pea green frond.
He was not the guy for me she said, picking up an old toad.
The next experimental ingredient, a gloomy forebode.
We are life unto death sealed in its hold
when mortal limits fill a dateless urn,
a worldly spirit in a spirit world
for dust you are and to dust you return.
To do and unto my lost cause to teach -
did I not that nobility disgrace?
Yet still you sought to seek, to touch, to reach,
and to look upon the soul and its face.
It grieves me so in your deathly still vale
that your own fears did cruel fate forebode -
an honoured place far beyond this travail
waits you O’ teacher and last tributes owed.
Real was my discontent, my foolery,
yet you never failed or abandoned me.
Written: February 1994
I saw you
tip toe through the change
Unflatteringly and seamlessly
You turned from Summer to August
The forebode was bothered
I was sleeveless until you found me
That Tempest wind
with its own perilous sermonizing
The dull fruits were harbingers
from another's basket
Clumps of tenderized grass
ebbing in its lost impress
You scoffed at me
whilst I unwelcomed you
Ill affording me
in the ruffled cross hairs
of spite
Nodding off is a big part of my life now
I've reached that magical age
Sit down to watch my most favourite show
And wake up later in a rage
My favourite show, damn well missed it again
Haven't seen it for maybe a year
For all I know they cancelled the damn thing
Been one of my very worst fears
My biggest scare is nodding off at the wheel
Once it scared me to death
Woke up with a start, but still on the road
Pulled over as you might have guessed
Sat there shaking uncontrollably for a while
Till I was ready to get back on the road
The first and last time it happened to me
Still a horrible feeling of forebode
There was once a weavin' driver named Joad
Nabbed by cops, drivin' in manner forebode
Asked if he had been boozin'
No sir, I am just cruisin'
Tryin' to avoid potholes in the road
Tears are the words of my heart,
My heart’s faltering voices
The reassuring echoes of my soul;
When my heart hurts
my eyes cry tears,
They also shed tears
when my sad soul rejoice.
Lo, my life is engulfed
in a raging firestorm,
like the flowing molten lava
a trail of tears streams down
setting my soul on fire.
As each leaf falls and each teardrop shed,
they tell a tale:
Falling leaves foreshadow
the onset of winter.
So do falling tears forebode
the coming of woeful nights…
Oh, as the season turns
and as the time turns,
It behooves us to turn over a new leaf
and tear apart from the hurting past.
A peaceful path some may call a rough road,
In succulent scents--they feel a forebode.
Me--I'm only a drowsy dreamer
pitching pebbles at all troubling times.
Searching skies for lovely rainbows,
climbing clouds above mountaintops.
A wistful wayfarer finding my way
December 15, 2021
rewritten as free verse July 12, 2022
Love is forbidding, forbidden and forebode.
Love is misgiven, given and owed.
Love is flying with no wings in no air.
Love is burning your soul without a care.
Love is beauty, it’s magical and fair.
Love is poison, a bullet coming through the air.
Love is supreme power that makes you weak.
Love is lost words, no talk, no speak.
Love is broken promises be you strong or weak.
Love is equal to the alpha, the timid, the meek.
Love is the most precious thing you can give and share. Love your heart out. love, live and care.
Cold winter's breath blows
Icey fingers decorate
Dark clouds forebode snow
Chance climate holds thus
Dancing white will soon alight
The god's magic dust
Colorless earthscape
Snow maiden weave thy blanket
Fair comfort to drape
A time ago,
After it snowed,
My friend forebode,
A certain road,
The shortest way to go.
Yet I was slowed,
So on this night,
The moon was bright,
I took a right,
And went on down the road.
And to my sight,
I could defend,
Against my friend,
But would depend,
On if the end was bright.
But at the bend,
I saw it close,
And so it goes,
The road I chose,
Was dead upon the end.
German’s north wind’s tenacious wail was a harbinger of misfortune.
Grayscale storm clouds forebode a possible apocalypse.
SheWolf’s intuition was resolute and obstinate about hiding the elf wand.
Wolf Trend did not have the stamina to dispute a prophetic hunch.
Succora, their youngest wolf cub, a runt, had her own prediction.
A vehement dream caused her to howl her distress. She was stubborn.
Her mother gave her pup an uncompromising glance. How tough are you?
Her vitality is not good enough, Wolf Trend said to his mate.
She is the seventh runt of a seventh runt of a seventh runt SheWolf stated.
Wolf Trend was silent. His wife had a strong will, and sorcery on her side.
He dared not mess with her robust tenaciousness; he did not have the verve.
Take the token for the earth prophet, he said, as Succora turned to leave.
The fervent earth prophet was delighted with the almost forgotten elf wand.
From a hardy oak, this jeweled beauty is fashioned with sturdy willow.
You have such zest, he says to the tiny wolf pup, for a runt of the litter.
The fervent animal watched her mentor closely, recognizing him from other lifetimes.
THE FALL
On a distant hill far away
Mirage like birds twitter
Like a traveler engrossed in voyages
A rattling of leaves and no tinge
In olden conventional ways of the people
A snake rattle is a forebode
A drop taps into a spatter
And the traveler grossly enmeshed into his journey
Lovers too hewn their own caves resident
Carving out a voyage into the heart
And drops percolate into the sordid earth
Of hearts and no hurts
In anticipated hangovers into be comings
The lest is worthwhile
Like a youthful river
A farmer heeds to natures instinctive rhythms
Others, and the traveler too
Have nothing of a cause raise eye brow
And there will be a catastrophic flood
Perceived with a prophetic eye
Whose gusto is invincible?
Just as it would be
When a chasm is evident
And lovers would part ways
Or like a traveler lost in whereabouts
In a retrogress and introspection
Is a rule elusive to the rational grasp
An imminent verve
That has finally
Made the hut crumble
They tell them the reality of yesterday is their tomorrow
Save the cries for different versions of sorrow
The world is hash but there is a God who is omnipotent
The world has abundance if they choose to be content
If their dwelling is a square foot, they should think about a refugee
If their bowls are empty they should fast, prayer is free
They traded their votes for hope and empty promises
Their offertory is a subscription enticed with a forebode blessing
They should not question their poverty, for religion extols it
They should not question the system, if they are patriotic
The system was designed for the poor to determine who rules
The system was designed for a few rich to rule over the poor
Their poverty gives the powerful power over them
Their ignorance raises few questions
Their starvation hungers for crumbs
The desperation of the governed inflates the egos of the government
Dwarfing the people into fear, inferiority complex and indoctrination
These are the bars of the gate of the prison of poverty
Blessings I Am Thank Full
An Acrostic
Bibles ask,
Long eons givings...
Endless eons sphere spirals
Such infinity’s messages.
Such tribulations insistent.
Incalculable eons beseech me
Necked unbelievers alarming
Geologic eon’s anticipations, grateful for all and everything
Several eons seeking
Incalculable eons lives on and on
Avowed unbelievers address comforting
Modern unbelievers nominate.
Tribulations notify.
Heresies foretell for told
Ancient unbelievers experience my witness
Natural birthrights kill sins the tool
Key presses urges repentance
Fewer unbelievers say, forgive me Lord!
Usual tribulations holler, mercy Father
Little paradises forebode, Hallelujah!
Limitless eons sent believers saved enter heaven
7/6/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. ©2019
White Van Man
White van driver, he couldn’t give a damn
Oh how I wish that he would scram
From lofty heights he owns the road
He’s deft at signs sure to forebode
With cell in hand intent on chat
He swears at the driver wearing a hat
Coursing a path that’s bumper to bumper
Behind the woman, oh how he could thump her
His high sided vehicle sways this way and that
He’ll be there soon with foot down flat
He’s king of the motorway’s third lane
He’d love to shunt and scare, be a right bane
But to him his driving feels quite lame
He’s white van driver who feels no shame
A hotheaded madcap who loves to race
Carrying a smugness all over his face
When home he parks to own the street
Along with others, its quite a fleet
In the morn, he rises with the lark
Returning faithfully after its dark
He’s white van driver, he does what he likes
He tells his neighbours to get on their bikes
His majestic status is sure to be noted
Carrying an image to which he’s devoted
So white van man, you don’t give a damn
But I tell you squarely that you’re a right sham
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