Disparate, she commented,
The word reverberating
As fond music, with pleasant
Measures and tingly tones --
And should we not be open
To others’ voices, divergence of
Thinking? As with clear-eyed
And blinking, a look-see is worth
The now, hoping, anticipated
Enlivened journey of daring
Vistas, elongated dimensions --
Spirit/mind ever on the hunt for
Spirit/source – life is a series
Of Lost And Founds...squares
Seeking their counterpart rounds --
Not diametrically opposed, just
Points and edges making intriguing
Bounds – but never a harmony all
Quaking Spheres. Simply enjoying
A unique volume of eyes, noses, voices
And pert little ears.
Ode for a Fortunate Infant
Newborn:
Smacked and
Screaming —
Hardly more than a new fact,
A statistic
Already forgetting
The crush into Becoming.
This “tabula rasa,”
Kicking and flailing,
Not yet swaddled or cradled,
Held only by Fate
In the first minutes of Destiny
(unformed and waiting)
With a heart
Needing to be embracd
By more than just touch,
But blessed to completely feel
The warmth of Acceptance
That founds a first sense
Of Identity as being a Self
Here linked with Others…
For the first lessons of Love —
Swaddled in belonging
Wrapped with thanksgiving.
(c) s.y.eslnger 5/24/2024
Thanks be to God…
Soul heart cries
Verse toward the skies
My heart sees, what it does
Mind thinks thoughts
About founds and loss
My spirit soars rises
My heart sees, what it does
Verse toward the skies
Soul heart cries
12/1/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2023©
Black Americans in shark
houses
And caravans
Imagine how many black
Americans dying
In strong winters as
They can not afford
To build
or buy proper houses.
The American system pushed
Them to be
Where they are till now.
It is very hard
For them to come out
Of that bad
Situation without
The full support
Of the American government.
My daily song , "
God loves me so much ,
I love people so much. "
Do you think USA government does not have
Enough founds to build houses
for poor Americans ?
If not ...
What make them giant economy country in the World
When they fail to do what
The government of late
Mohammad Kadaffi did?
Huh?
Investing much money in terrorism
And wars in the World
While some Americans
Continue dying
like flies
In Winters
Due to missing
proper houses.
I think Uncle Joe Biden
Will work to change that system
Or Uncle Donald Trump
Will help
If Americans will vote
For him again.
I speak my mind as a poet
Which is reality.
By Alfonso Warally Ngengethe
Mussabwa Chris
You and I...
We were so similar...
we shared the same mind...
the same spirit..
the same soul...
Like our hearts were friends in a different world from ours...
It was like coming home...
like the moon in me always founds the sky in you ...
You completed me and I did you ...
Now we are pieces of the same puzzle lost in a world of pieces of other puzzles and we shall never fit in ...
I hope you find another soul ...
Another spirit, another mind and another heart from your passed life...
I hope you find another home ...
Maybe even another moon to fit your sky ...
I hope you find another piece , just like me ...
One is the man whose living in half
Whole can he be with the wavelength above
In blurs, he saw the sacred cryptograph
With faith, he felt everlasting love
Two is the man with divine armor
Three is his strength, from threefold flame of Christ
Breaking chains of his flesh charmer
Intensifying the passion within
For with that flame, he founds himself
To the path of supreme completeness
WITH ALL HIS LOVE-
With all His love
With all His love
With all His love
He gives in Jesus name;
All such should live in Jesus name;
And He never stops, He looks beyond our fought
Glory, Hallelujah
With all His love
With all His love
With all His love
It’s what God does;
Just what He did;
Allowed Jesus to die for us;
He mends the broken heart;
He rebuilds those the walls that are broken;
He heals the hurt, He founds the lost
He gives in Jesus name;
All such praise Him and God, glory, Hallelujah
With all His love
With all His love
With all His love
10/14/2021
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2021©
Dust of forgotten
versing ancient poetry
between lost and found...
Newspaper blows along rain-washed streets,
dying echoes of hash tags and tweets
promising hook-ups, flash mobs and meets,
long gone to their bed-sits and urban retreats.
Puddles painted with neon gaudy,
could be Mancunian, Scouse or Geordie,
late night streets, care-worn and tawdry,
home to the reveller, the lewd and the bawdy.
The siren's wail, the drunken fight,
the running feet of the loser's flight,
the screams of anguish hidden from sight,
sounds of the city, heightened at night.
Couples and couplings lurching and lairy,
high on the octane of Jack and Bloody Mary,
wandering zombie-like, staggering, starey,
on late night streets, decadent and scary.
With dawn's promise come different sounds,
the rubbish collectors doing their rounds,
policemen sorting the losts and the founds
night washed away like old coffee grounds.
Soul mate
It's like a honeycomb
Dwellings of sweetness
The honey that soaks my bread
In the eventide of a restful hour
With every words gushing out
Like the sweetest palm wine
Tapped by my grandfather
That never founds its likes
Ever since he had journeyed home
Soul mate
With every choice words
She prays in conversation
With the beings of purest love
Deep down her voice life springs
Like the oil that runs down Aaron's head
Peace of mind she brings with her
Every steps graced with kindness
Echoes of love heard by her man
Love is found again!
© John Chinaka Onyeche
in love
only words don't to be
hearts need
difficult to walk thorny paths
in love
only feel don't to be
reals are founds
everyone sees when the curtain rising
in love
only two person don't to be
understand won't take long
My Lord lives and He blesses me, He blesses me
Let the God of my salvation rise me, He blesses me
The Lord lives and He forgives, blesses me, He blesses me
And He blesses my house,blesses me, He blesses me
He founds and frees the lost, blesses me, He blesses me
Let the God of my salvation be raised up
Exalt the most high God
Lift up the name of Jesus
For He's more than worthy
Yes, He's worthy for my soul
Only in Him am I wholeblesses me, He blesses me,
More than praise He lifts me up today blesses me, He blesses me
The Lord lives and He kisses me, blesses mblesses me, He blesses me,
He blesses me
He embraces me arms open He holds me
Let the God of my salvation be lifted up
The Lord lives turns water into wine
Allow Him almighty God provider to fill your cup
Blesses me, He blesses me
1/18/18
written by James Edward Lee Sr.
inspired from Psalm 18:46
Like a hurling sling
Is a poet’s pen.
Both are sent
To pursue a purpose.
He errs by will
And rehearses error;
The critic mumbles
And so in prose.
Than prose poetry is harder;
Moods must be spelt
Attitudes choreographed
And scenes preserved.
Who is the poet’s critic
But lay specialist
Who’s career founds
On a poet’s error?
One writes of merry,
Another reads of dirge;
One writes of birth,
Another reads of wedding!
Poetry is god-like,
Poets are creators
Who set in motion
The world of literature.
Makers of good and bad,
Poets suffer indefinite
But are proud founders
Of life on paper.
MS 26072016
A small Native tree frog that is found in the fields of Puerto Rico.
Its color is Brown. They are called Coqui by the onomatopoeia
sound mating call made by males.
When is raining , their sound is heard wide spread. Usually they can be founds
in the leaves of plantain and bananas. A song called Coqui® was sang by
the 1980's quintet called Menudo ®.
Nayda Ivette
10-29-2015
Tears they fall for many a reason
What ever the cause, whatever the season
Its when they happen, its when their met
Ours ducts are oh so deeply set.
Trauma, laughter can make them show
Some rain down, some take time to flow
They all show feelings, whatever the case
But they flow for reasons, its a tears place.
The ones that fall to the ground
Are they wasted we have no founds
I think the ones, that fall and part
Once they hit, they turn into Hearts
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/life.php
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