grifters and grafters,
hang like bats in the rafters,
feasting on the moths—
they charm while skimming their schemes,
build loophole ladders of graft
You can’t make a deal
with a Judas
As tenured
they govern on high
Like the British
who sought our indenture
With graft and self-interest
they lie
You can’t play the game
any longer
When rules only favor
the few
Where freedom is held
as a hostage
And verity’s fairness
— askew
(The New Room: March, 2025)
“Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May.”
Sonnet 18: Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
Waiting for the dentist’s assessment of my implant screw.
I watch Dogwood buds on dry branches rattle on the window pane.
Why did Shakespeare’s quote pop into my head right then?
while wondering if the bone graft grew,
‘every fair from fair sometime declines.’
What explains Trumpenstein’s command
That the U.S. borders expand?
His withered small shaft
Needs a bigger graft
Of mastodon parts from Greenland
Does this mean much to you,
Force fed at Yuletide too?
Unsure if Jesus meant all this,
Tinsel town of retail bliss,
Beginning to feel like Yuletide,
Snow in Aussie ocean tide,
Swimming and drinking,
What is Santa thinking?
Overfeeding everyone,
Overstuffed games in the sun,
Does Jesus think we're crude?
Groaning, here's more food,
Gimme more gifts and a card,
Graft for Christmas, that's so hard,
No matter who's to blame,
Mega stores feel no shame.
Buy, buy, buy, right away,
Rather ceasefires this festive day,
Despite Bing Crosby, okay
That's what Jesus would really say!
A Shepherd's Day by Suzanne Alexander (SA)
Wee, from East then West!
Seen one side then Next.
Feel a beautiful day, start is laid
Sjoe, from sting of Ray.This said,
Baa, from Ewe - distinct face!
Moor from one side at annex she graze,
Aye mi smeel yummy scone buttered.
Lighe nam lips whilst I muttered.
Shoo, splish-splash rain came unforseen
raining stairs of rods clearly seen
soil exposed with heathered bole
the red pigment irks the soul.
Ewe, come, sinn cùm sàbhailte!
to the huge bole hole, wee time, to shed.
Close jist ower the way so near,
baa, from rascal Mule , mi clu from ear.
C' mon ye little mule so blue
Safe its here by bole used as hue.
The noo! Mule. He came then settled.
Jack Snipe seen in marsh nestled.
Far in the distance a thunderclap
Meat today with pap.
With money earned just a little.
and hands brittle.
As the rain drops snipes my face,
Content I am to run , this race
Yet a sadness for unfair wage
But joyful not being in a cage.
Day, from graft then came night
Hame my manor is in sight.
Safe the ewe and mule I put,
aye, that'll dae. Day in tear and joy shut.
In hushed greenhouses, a marvel grows,
A pilgrimage for those who know:
A rose unmarred by nature's thorns,
Its beauty is pure, as morning dawns.
I dreamed of its stem, a silken cord,
Coiled gently around my hands, unexplored.
My garden once bristled with spiky guards,
Till obsession smoothed those prickly shards.
From root to tip, I bred them bare,
Strength redefined in petals fair.
If thorns meant power, then power's changed,
In vulnerability, strength rearranged.
This thornless bloom, a rare delight,
Wields beauty like a beacon bright.
Its petals unfurl, a gentle shield,
Revealing truths long concealed.
When touched, it stands, unharmed and tall,
A flower-warrior, breaking thrall
From old beliefs of strength through pain,
Its peaceful stance is a greater gain.
In dreams, I graft this wonder's stem
To roses in my garden's hem.
Together we walk through skeptics' sneers,
Our smoothness calms ancient fears.
Behold the power of gentleness,
In this rose's thornless dress.
A testament to nature's art:
True strength blooms from an open heart.
Before the dawning of this world age
My Father spoke, exchanging premise I was in Him needle to tread
In the grace, His space
A line define energies graft through the tunnel in womb needle to tread
~
I come, I came through too needle to tread, I bled
Awaken fully physically dead yet I live eternal needle to tread
8/30/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2024©
Our politicians of the 21st Century
Lack Insight
The nature of true graft
The hardship
Our hands have Laboured
Of love for our community
Together
We were once United in Diversity
Our Generations of families
Built this country
With a calibre of Passion and Poetry
Inspirational Integrity
Kindness our Philosophy
And prominent legends
Have left , and gone is their Legacy
Of Great and Wonderous Inventions
Birth and pain
Our thoughts born
Belonging to teachers of historical leadership
Now, lost and forgotten
Thrown away , a thesis of copy and paste PHDs
Wasted are the words
Buried secrets
In Sediment of soils
Earth, her history
Ignored
For War and Victory
A 21st Century Political Legacy
In a fantasyland
of their own creation
politicians spawn
Spreading their eggs of division
and lies
among bottom feeding pawns
Propagating treason
corruption and graft
to freely flow downstream
Carrying our destiny
over the falls
— of shattered broken dreams
(The New Room: February, 2024)
Abandon your party
stand up for what’s right
The partisan madness
a liar’s delight
Honor the founders
revolt and derail
The graft and corruption
— both factions entail
(Dreamsleep: February, 2024)
A hectic stare across the cliff,
grabs my prying mindfulness.
but yet I hanker after urban fare,
such ruptured loyalty alas,
has a solid grip as I inhale,
the rampant toxic seaweed odor,
for which release a bland choice,
as bulging dark gray torrents,
remind us of some threat,
a fancy name as birthmark,
blemish, or craven riddle,
consequential strain I fear,
might alter this delay,
how city haven slant,
bustle, blast, benign graft,
has fallout clearly vetted,
sink block, suction pump,
remedial quick brush off,
two rocky worlds aside,
where common ground,
that less distinct blight,
consuming blind thought,
downpour on the crevice,
outskirt mere sideshow,
flight a gut reaction say,
let valor plot or plod,
whatever barren sabotage,
malaise, daft wanton dash,
each muddled exit’s close loop,
one must master by right,
ominous veil now pending,
scatter brained inkling wrought,
lure, allure, attachment beckons,
departure problematic when pressed,
bursts of rain, bursts of sound,
seeking shelter but clueless,
would things be otherwise,
in large built up areas,
I ponder this dilemma,
while dreaming of fair vales,
or mystic laneways of yore
Time has weathered its walls, and nature has claimed it as its own, with vines and foliage covering every surface as if foraging for room. The air is thick with a sense of dejic-mystery and significance depicted overtly by the castle's towering entrance. There are tales and tall tales that surround this place, that ignite one's curiosity even further. If you get the right traveler and enough ale. But never had any of them acquired the knowledge of it's location. Most of them even ending their accounts with, "but all of it but a myth", or it's equivalent.
Is this overgrown castle, that whispers of it's readiness to divulge its secrets and echoes that have been shaded within its walls and forgotten by Time, playing with the imagination or siring a confidant, a worker of its magics.
Graft appeared as a small child in contrast as he pushed open the Great doors. They let out a great shriek from age and unuse, sounding much like a Vulcarn ready to dive, giving battle cry as the last thing one would hear before the black...
SUFFERING PAIN GRIEFS HURT DEFINED I WAS-
Suffering pain griefs
Hurt I was defined
To inflict with mental pain: Wounded
Was seriously hurt within my physical self
You're hurting my arm!
To do substantial soul harm so: DAMAGED
Caused emotional pain or anguish to: OFFEND
Never meant to hurt, placed in remorse
Got feelings so I hurt
Detrimental to: HAMPERRED
Charges of graft soiled chances of being in pangs
Feelings rain
Suffering pain griefs
Mental host, hurting such
Freedom in me to be in need
To cause damage or distress
My source cause of injury or damage
Weathering clouds of doubts the hurts of so many of us
A bodily injury or wound mentally, physically, spiritually
Mental or emotional distress or anguish
: SUFFERING WRONG, HARM
to inflict with mental pain : Wounded
Hurt I was defined
1/19/2024
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2024©
in rooms of rainbows
bloomed her powers
some stranger things -
one sweet, soft flower
though daft with graft,
men grilled and nudged
yet, HER book’s cover,
quite poorly judged
through trust in Papa,
risked life and limb
but all those things
she gained from him
were cloaked with lies
and borrowed breath
and brought her naught
but grief and death
those sordid secrets,
she dared disclose
while trickled, red,
from ‘neath her nose
dread demogorgons -
turned useless churl
by one strong, honest,
though modest girl
the wounds ran deep
in that smallish town
but deeper, still,
ran the Upside-Down
that dark realm defied
all the strength of men
yet, was NEVER the match
for one more than …
ten.
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