I know I'm second-hand
Filtered out to feed ur addictions
It's bad for my health
But I can't help relapsing over the touches
They take the cigarettes to their lips
and blow the leftovers at me
And I inhale with everything I have
I'm out of breath
But when im with them
It feels like something to live on
I'm an addict for the 2nd hand
I can't avoid it as it blows through me
Around me
Hazing everything I used to be familiar with
It becomes a part of my bad habits
My new form of oxygen
Different from the one I was taught about
I'm second-hand
And I hate that my lungs are worse than u thought
It burns when I think about it
I shouldn't have gone
I promised I'd stay away
Find something to give me purpose again
But turns out it's all I'm good for
A product of what I was made of
2nd hand on what I grew up on
Quick and slow, pulsed to jibe and rudder
A late dancing, in the luminous waves
The boats angle to the cresting froth tops.
Sails arched, full burst into the brine
Air paces, vast to the horizon’s rim
The hazing glow, communion of sky to sea.
They bob and streak, the prow's steadfastness
Each sailor guides to the compass, knowing
The importance of destination.
Sine Wave replicated the Hand whistle, a drum and
bass and tremble guitar fused with a funky mix of
in opposition tothe fella's camped further in the distance.
There a banjo and fiddle were played while a crooner
serenaded the dust clouds kicked up the drunken
cowpokes.
While the Elders sleep or were to drunk to refuse them
wise mid twentyish people grabbed instruments and
went into the barn and began to
fuse there style
with sounds that were never heard before. A member
of the orchestra used his influence to
convince these busy hard working people
to make time to get together
and create music. The way music needs to be appreciated.
Night hides the meanest of day
but moring tell the true story
if she'll go
or if she'll stay
Regional flavors
Capsicum Annuun
Hot Peppers and Milk
Pizzicato wash your hands
begore you pull
them strang's
Headdresses and Cowboy hats
Hazing a Tenderfoot
A lick and a promise
Choice beyond compare
trending toward greater
concentration
a textbook example of best
through whipping pending
to stand taller then the rest
in apple pie order
Hazing the Cityfoots
not tryna brag
or wishing I had
Welcome to the Machine
stop being so mean
Turquoise tears stain my face
Like violet varicose veins
Stains of sentimental sensuality
Wrapped in white fears and black feathers
For love has fuschia flown away
Ruining reverie’s red roses
Turning them black decomposes
Any ink dried died in letters for love
Would have fell on silver sword
Sacrificed, sliding through heart
Silky bloody poetic death
He saves a cutting of brown hair
And a crimson rose of despair
Pressing between pages of art
Like my onyx broken heart
Was only a notch on burnt belt
Firey from love’s hazing hell
Wicked love spell wilting passion
Kisses rationed refusing
To hold wet tongue’s telling
Of rebelling rose’s rise
In spirit despite demise
Petals of purple pain
Painting passion with rain
And teal tears tangerine train
Of torment trailing behind
Like a wedding dress
Of jilted beauty
Doing duty during dilemmas
Flower to remember
Pressed between pages
Of a little black book
Of love unreturned
Petals drenched in poison pearls of emerald envy,
carefully placed objectives whilst adrift in my tears of realization
Longing sorrowful souls among lilac lakes,
buried deep into somber depths of tinkering procrastination
Starving for ruby righteousness and pristine perfection, and yet still reaching towards a tilt heart searching desperately sunset embers
Distinguishing luminescent authenticity among
bittersweet endives drifts away with each cooling December
Shall I pursue soft screams for kissed loving
ethereal roses dazzled with enchanting sensations
To float away from every twisted hazing hoax with every spoken whirling weapon - coated with fabrications
“The teacher who walks in the shadow of the temple, among his followers, gives not of his wisdom but rather of his faith and lovingness.”
- Kahlil Gibran, "The Prophet," page 56, copyright 1923
Time stands still in the rainbow window of the soul
Mixed in colorful kaleidoscopic clouds
Awaiting His return
Anticipating the spiral staircase descending from Heaven
Like a tornado about to touch down,
I sit motionless in a dreamlike delirium state
Gazing. Hazing. Raising my hands slowly into the air,
I prayerfully praise His name as Wonderful Counselor
I shall do my best to live by His excellent examples
Of compassion, forgiveness, and charity
He gave the ultimate sacrifice for my sins
So, I sing His hymns unto the four winds
In hopes He will hear my voice vibrating
In hopes He will hear my heart humbling
In hopes He will return soon
Especially during my lifetime of longing. . .
For this you see I'm falling asleep;
On these the golden fields;
Beneath the sun above the clouds;
Silent rises beset noise;
Congregational life praise hands loud;
Dawning glories burdens poise;
Shouts of jubilee roars;
Like a lion on his prowl;
Nursing timid giraffes soars;
Leap forth over gall they scowl;
==Jungle path nature grazing
Sun bright shine in lions hazing--
#5
I can face my issues
I can surpass my pride
I can overlook any danger
Survival moves my every being
Awareness alert, silly risk--hazing?
Hey, little lost Lamb,
get with the program.
Which Ewe you belong,
there'd Ewe's graze beyond.
Be there just one Ewe,
one Ewe that you knew.
Why'd you look at me,
for it cannot be.
For a dad, I am,
not Ewe, but a Ram.
Thank my lucky star,
this is where you are.
Is this your Lamb, Ewe?
Yes dear Ram, thank you.
Come my precious one,
for we are quite done.
Well, son, what say you,
between Ram and Ewe?
Dad's an Aries sign,
but Ewe'll do just fine.
The end of hazing,
it's time for grazing.
the soul of the clouds soar
everlasting filled with the dews from the aire
as well as the grounds recirculating, reciprocal
hazing drips drops of moisten first heavens tears
first heavens cries
first heavens drops the tears called rain,
from the first skies white pearl
cotton entangle holding waters
pour, tear drops fall, rain terrain onto the grounds
wetting ponds, lakes, rivers, streams
clouds full of soul waters soar
rain waters fall
1/24/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.2024©
A Slow Decline
Farmers wake, farm their fields.
Their wives tend hearth and home,
chickens, pull milk from cows,
slop the pigs. Fishermen struggle
against fleets of slowly departing
commercial ships, haul in smaller
catches of ever-smaller fish.
But entangled seals barbed in wire
loosely fit, don’t care, burgeon
swollen into a razor sharp ring
cuts through flippers, neck, and tail,
chokes, slowly amputates does
an ostentatious necklace
flashy, glinting beneath a grayish
overly hot and hazing sun,
an aftermath of plastic, fish hooks,
fossil fuel blackened air, and tons
and tons of rank and raw sewage.
her attitude is as Stoney as the Henge ~ she’s hellbent on revenge
like an old cow chewing cud and grazing ~ her utters are a hazing
I do feel that Mr Trump's been changed
I'm most aware..of a different range
Of vaccine speed in the weft and warp'
Billions talking in from the scoros corp
A human queen he finds so amazing
I kid myself not, that he's even hazing.?
I saw some UK pundits view; they say.'
He's changed.. and they're not kidding hey!
Is this just a narrative of more confusion
Will America charge into dissolution?
A sucker punch soon to deck the world.?
Hold on tight, the tide now foams and swirls.'
everything reminds us that we need to go
the clock ticks with every beat of our heart
every breath although closer to dying
is a sigh of relief- i made it this far
yet people around us die
things that we own wear out
plants wither away with soil
bugs crushed beneath them soles
birds fly away to never come home
all a reminder that we too will go
as we age, our body prepares for its end
our skin wrinkles, hiding away our identity
our bones dont help us stand tall
our arms cant carry the burden no more
our memory darkens as our brain shrinks
our eyes cloud, hazing away our reflections
our ears dont respond to the voice of our loved ones
an empty smile welcomes others
we shrivel into fetal position
like we were not born at all
back to square one:
see you in hereafter
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