I been staring at the water,
looking for somebody’s fault
I found that the river tastes the same
no matter who adds salt
I kept replaying every sentence,
every pause that hit too hard
Seems that’s how a heart’ll memorize
what the mind just calls a scar
I thought the river might explain,
pick a side and tell me who’s who
But it just kept pulling every story
until they all bled into blue
Funny how the shoreline
never begs the tide to stay
It just keeps being shoreline
while the water finds its way
Maybe that’s what hurts the most
not the blame, not being right
Just watching that swaying boat
learn to drift by into the night
So if the river’s got a memory,
I hope that it keeps the laughs instead
Because carrying every grain of salt
ain’t ever raised the dead
Vain,
Pain,
Lame,
Stained,
Rank,
Crazy,
Grain of Salt in the Recipe,
Perpetually messing with the direction of flavor,
We can savor it NOW or LATER,
Or bade a dew to something new,
If it is to be new,
I hope to meet its Creator.
Serve it as its waiter,
NOT as a side of any old taters...
But show that it is made for an “elevator up...”
Then toast with a cup,
Of “This Schwizer just got nicer and that is definitely what is freaking up!!!”
The spirit world went into spasm,
emitting as it did, a new phantasm,
which pitifully cried and moaned
as a haunting voice intoned,
"I wish that I was protoplasm".
Why was it that the heavenly host
wouldn't give him what he wanted most?
Why did they leave him, oh so sad?
He was such a pleasant lad -
Casper the Friendly Ghost.
Why did Casper do what he did
when he was just a kid?
Kite flying was not his ball of wax,
so he played on the railroad tracks,
which his mom would not forbid.
His mother said, "Go soak your head",
but he played on the tracks instead,
and so, it was all his fault.
His mother took it with a grain of salt,
and now poor Casper's dead.
So, if you see that nice guy, now deceased,
floating from the west or east,
he's travelled many a mile.
So, return his gentle smile.
Don't shrink in fear, just when he needs it least.
I am the keeper of all things
Always closed and never open
Never to share
Never to whisper
I am the one listening to all your frustrations your aggravations and the things that piss you off in your life your job everything
Never to share
Never to whisper
I am the one sinking in the shadows as a temporary guest
Hearing what they all say about everything yet for me
Never to share
Never to whisper
I am the one that slowly defends in the shadows against nay sayers
Yet for your nay sayers I am also the keeper of all things
Never to share
Never to whisper
While you sit there coldly i want you to remember
I am always closed never open
Never to share
Never to whisper
I am the one to promise never to say a word
For me that is a promise held dearly regardless of what is being said in the shadows
The shadows is where the whispers come from take them for a grain of salt for I have not done anything
At the end of the day
I am the keeper of all things for everyone
Always closed never open
Never to share
Never to whisper
Tongue Tied in Clichés: A Blessing in Disguise
A blessing in disguise,
a double-edged sword—
a far cry from peace,
yet all in all,
at the drop of a hat
we reach for a ballpark figure,
beat around the bush,
break new ground,
burn the midnight oil.
By the book we cut to the chase,
play devil’s advocate,
fill the void with food for thought,
start from scratch,
then get cold feet.
Give the green light,
go down in flames,
hit the nail on the head,
find ourselves in over our head,
jump on the bandwagon,
keep something at bay,
leave no stone unturned.
Out of our depth,
past the point of no return,
we read between the lines,
take it with a grain of salt,
see only the tip of the iceberg—
until at last we throw in the towel.
I have come to realize that this SUCH and such is MUCH.
Here is the MESSAGE. I struggle to
Know every grain of SALT and SAND. THIS CRUCIBLE SENT the
Blood rushing to my BRAIN! I
Struggle PAINFULLY to know how much TIME has PASSED and then
Struggled to know my true PATH from FAR the distant PAST. I struggle to produce a meaningful message. I REFUSE to BELIEVE THE SANE! MY STRUGGLE IN VANE?! 365 DAYS after days after daze and THEN? More ENDLESS Days The STRUGGLE! NOW....with this
Admission with MY OWN PERMISSION I STRUGGLE NO MORE! OVER IS THAT CHORE!
MALIK VAL ROGERS BLACK PANTHER JET BLACKEST ANSWERERRR!
A grain of sand.
Is too meek to stand.
Why are you so small?
Why are you stuck on my beach ball?
I can’t hear you.
You are stuck in my shoe!
My shoe, I am shaking.
And you are quaking.
As you fall to the ground.
At first, you cannot be found.
You are too small.
To even make a phone call.
I ask why you are small as a grain of salt.
And you decide to halt.
Finally, I hear you speak.
It is barely a squeak.
You say you dream of the bottom of a lake.
Where crabs dance and shake.
I will throw you into the lake.
If you tell your friends to leave my shoes alone, for their sake!
so shun- the darkness blackened
surrounded by the darkness
yet a speck a spark energy
exposure a grain of salt
I am the light in the dark
explosive out of the dark
came light flickering equation shown
having a bright high energy
birth new born accountable
I am the light before the dark
I was light before the dark
3/7/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2024
___
You cannot escape yourself,
I know we wish to be someone else.
Comparison is an easy deceiver,
no one is much cleaner,
Everyone has their faults,
Your not the only grain of salt.
No one can share a duplicate identity
that would make you a nonentity.
What will truly make ART great again, is when people return to the critical realization that it is not about quality, it is about expression, and more importantly, JOY. Don’t be too concerned what others say about your work, whether it’s painting or music or writing or woodworking or cooking, etc, if it brings you enjoyment, then do it to your heart’s content!!
Everything we do and say and make and write, is a little piece of us, and should be treated with the deference and appreciation that we give to one another, and no one knows better than WE do, how our intent compares to the result. If you get critique, take it kindly, but with a grain of salt, and the knowledge that others do not see the world the way you do.
EVERYONE on this planet has a special talent, and not all of those talents are the artistic type, but that savvy was given to you to make the most of. Maybe you’re not the “artistic” type, but you ARE talented, I guarantee you, and I also guarantee that endowment you’re blessed with, whatEVER it may be, is something you enjoy, and it brings others joy in the process.
THAT, my friends, along with love, is what life is all about!
Upon waking up this day, a single tear
Father your eternal immortality
Still proves wise and gracious
I haven’t been misled by popular opinion
Which should be taken with a grain of salt
You showed me how to expose the counterfeits
who foster misperceptions,
Which have shaped our faith
How to think with an open mind, heart, and soul
Father, your every word was a rare gift
A worth guide__
A teardrop of glad remembrance and a
Prayer for your soul
When plans are made, there is a chance
That they might need to change,
For life throws curves and some events
You’ll need to rearrange.
The reasons do not matter -
Family, weather, health or work,
Since beneath the surface calmness,
Unexpected problems lurk.
When I make plans, it’s always with
At least a grain of salt,
Prepared to cancel, knowing that
Nobody is at fault.
There is no reason to become frustrated when things are misplaced, for everything happens for a good reason.
If one could only see into the future and see this plan that was laid out for you, it will all work out in due season.
Take no time to get angry over an accident, a wrong turn, or simply over spilled milk.
Taking mistakes and mishaps as a grain of salt without a murmur will help alleviate problems and life will be as smooth as silk.
Depression can make a man like me take
This life with a grain of salt
Waiting for death is all I have left
Knowing everything is all my fault
Carrying that weight every single day
Leads to nothing but a heavy soul
The man gets no rest from thinking about death
Using all the wrong ways to fill the hole
I know in the end, I’ll pay for my sins
Everything tends to come back around
During those times, I was losing my mind
Depression made a man like me drown
D.R.L.
7/31/22
Can't get time back
Regardless if I tip my hat
Going down a different path
I'll leave it at that
No matter if it's been a rotten day
They always got a lot to say
Then towards god they pray
I go my own way and walk away
I overdo it at times I gotta pay
The process is drawn out or occurs andale`
With a quickness
Spreading like a sickness
Always trying to stick their nose in my business
You've no idea, because for you everyday is Christmas
One wrong move, you write me up and give me tickets
Even though you were the only witness
I don't need anyone's forgiveness
Listen, I want to hear the sound of crickets
Own a home and land with a fence made of pickets
Another stupid verbal assault
Trying to make it seem like I'm all at fault
I take it with a grain of salt
Then continue on, such matters can't cause me to halt
As I travel across the asphalt
At night often drinking liquor with or without Malt
He bluffs and she sucks
All these cheap f***s
So surprised when I speak up
It's been ongoing for more than three months
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