openly harpy
and rabbit hippity-hop
runs amok sorely
~
hopping through summer
heat basting trying to find
relief from Sumner
~
harpy unfolds his
wings open up his hands and
takes to rabbit patch
6/16/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2022©
Harpy Girl
You girl are a harpy. A woman who steals from those with nothing to take. You always find something to harvest. If you robbed a rich man, you'd leave him in debt.
How do you do it and why?
Becoming the femme fatal injured beach siren. How many ships have you wrecked? Sailors think you're a cheap whore. You target their basic desires. How smart. Not.
And when you become the pretty air stewardess lady, no one is safe. You slit the pilot's throat and Jumbo jets fall like shot crows. Only you walk away unscathed.
I came across you once. People ask why I'm alive? That's easy. I ran like the wind and am paranoid to hell. I know we'll meet again. Till then dear harpy, the news headlines are full of your work.
Death, mayhem, maiming, destruction.
Even when you sleep it continues. I wonder if you'll ever get bored of this harpy lifestyle? Take time out to talk to my friend. He's a shrink; the best. Hey, he cured me. But back then, I was sane compared to you, the harpy girl.
Sublime harpy eagle sits in a tree
Beyond divine is his majesty
To abyss not continuity
Is connected his destiny
His surreal yet physical form
Stands like proud warrior before the storm
His eyes shine like diamonds as cartwheels in the air he will perform
His seven inch talons and perfect visage begs question who build this form
He is just like one of us he has earthly destiny
He knows not of immortality
Yet to us eagle is something that represents being free
Fly free like a bird you are in control of your destiny
Something that has no lack is born not formed to us is divine
Yet each of us has will that is sublime
If we could make abstract concrete in any point in time
We could make our destiny grow beyond divine
And this freedom this power lies
Somewhere in depths of king of all eagles eyes
And in each of our own souls it lies
Can we make it real maybe on the dark side of the moon when our true selves we realize
If someone had the power which back to time cannot reverse
Even in the most fundamental base
This someone would be more then master of universe
And to sit at this person’s side is harpy eagle’s place
~*~ no longer bleating - the silence is musical ~*~
-- A yawning gape caught in a scream and heard by no one. --