Vigilantes heavy handed with their mouth
Their eyes are crying , they hear the tears
Nourishment flees from their heart
Starvation trolls the diminished dark
Speakings "truths" means a lot
8/28/26
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2026
I am not a Succotash man.
There is only so much my pallet can stand.
Each portion belongs to its own.
The hype of variety way overblown.
People tell me to change it up
To toss it around inside the mixing cup
To chew and enjoy all as one
Finding pleasure with a garbled chum
For me, I see too much strife
With the heavy-handed spices of life
Swallowing mysteries too hot to handle
Vicariously living in a lurid scandal.
There is only one meal chosen for me.
It’s the one I long for constantly.
A divine dish made from the Chef above
The meal I speak of is you, my love.
Tiptoe the finest, fine twine, needle-eyed thread
and a glitzy sequined clasp, tiny
tweezer-tie it finger-tip fast with a nuanced knot -
my, my, the pedantic perfection of the master jeweller.
I have the servile subtlety of thick thumbs,
all clumbsy carpals, my fudging finesse
better suited to a beanie'd stevedore, loud lugging
heavy-haired harbour rope to ship-secure
a brutish lump in the line.
Tongue tied up, spun on my own silver yarn
like a crystal jeweller, giddy with champagne giggles,
dizzy on a spinning chandelier high strung from the pressed ceiling.
Oh non, pas moi! Mine is more an oiled elegance,
heavy handed, ham-fisted like a scabby wharf rat,
chased and unchaste.
Dextrous in the strangest ways -
gutsy and glamourous,
ours is a nuanced life of grunting grime
with the briefest flashes of bedazzled dance.
Oh ye mighty hurricane, storm, or gale,
I cannot say, that I can e'er endorse
the means by which you make your will prevail,
depending as you do upon your force.
Indeed, you just destroy the young and frail,
as your wild, brutal tempest runs its course.
Young tender saplings grow into strong trees
'neith the sun, swaying in a gentle breeze.
Youth mentor with a message to convey,
do you find that your voice is growing tired?
Your heavy-handed tactics will not sway?
The odd way we human beings are wired,
it's joy to help a child find her own way,
and so, I've rhetorically inquired,
"What's more effective than a harsh command?"
- the gentle guidance of a helping hand.
Snapdragons (edit)
One is a serpent on the wing, the other a butterfly.
Each belongs to species created from
tissue paper, water, and light.
When half-awake I can hear the droning
of their nocturnal flights,
amber engines rattle cut-glass hangers
as they lift off to carpet bomb our dreams.
Some are more wolf than dragon,
they form packs of loup-garou,
and snap at the heavy-handed
and too fleshy fingered florists.
Those not employed in directing
disbelievers toward dragon lore
retire to flower as urban myths,
their chiffon wings and origami faces
masking many a peppery passion.
My typewriter
was not a good typewriter,
its keys were weighty,
you had to use brain muscle to work it,
nobody wanted it.
My son unpacked a home computer.
I stood by and watched
as all the electronics were laid out on the floor
and surgically knitted together.
I knew then
that I would be consistently out of touch,
and possibly would remain
stuck in an obsolete year
trying to catch up
from the rear of the field.
I wrote my first poem
on that clickity-clack manual machine,
then a dozen more,
all of them were heavy handed,
yet that hefty labor
made me think
I was crafting something worthwhile.
Later, I was enslaved to a computer keyboard,
chained as I was to its subsonic urgings
I could tell
the world was speeding away
faster than I could write.
When my kind of poet dies,
he is immediately ed,
for all his contemporary poems
turn into digital wormholes
that suck him into an unknown grave.
The young look to dead poets for wisdom -
truth is,
that those ham-fisted plodders
have long ago
turned into chunky typewriters
that nobody wants.
Bitter bitty Betty bullied brute Billy
Choosing caustic comments, some so silly
Disgusted, divorced Danny deemed her a dilly.
Eventually evading Ernest, Eddie, Elyse and Elly
Forever forcing Freddie into fashion frenzy frilly.
Gathering grave grievances, grazing grief counselor, Gilly.
Harvesting heavy handed horrors, hampering Billy.
Seijaku – 8-1-24
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Seijaku
Serenity abides with tranquility
Abiding in beauty
And deep respirations of satisfaction
Ready
Alert
Overlooking tangled mazes of overlapping obligations
Labyrinths of lists -
And atonal demands.
As the sun streaks past engorged calendars
In whirly-gigs of heavy-handed chaos
The shade of tranquility
Stretches out
Looming across the face of serendipity
With the breath of the rose
The whisper of sapphire jewels
Born from oceanic bowers.
In the shadows waits
The gift of each rubric solved
Pushing aside the tyranny of over committed -
In dawns, and Aurora’s ballet in neon slippers,
The spirit dialates,
As moonlight drips from feathery boughs,
Healed from epidemics of minutes
Swallowed by a never resting pendulum.
The poet arises, even blooms,
Ignoring the cataracts of frail dreams
When hurried footsteps and clouded hearts
Still race infected by chaotic delirium
Tripping over beauty’s outstretched boughs
To see – to notice -
To embrace
Lavender, gently waiting, with amazement.
Come join me on my erratic journeys over earth and sea.
I'll take you to nowhere special or, perhaps, a place you want to be.
I'm neither friend nor foe, so you need to know it's not personal at all.
I might appear as a gentle breeze or even a violent squall.
If my presence is not welcome; I do apologize.
Sometimes I get carried away and therein the problem lies.
Heavy-handed or light as air, I touch everything in my path.
At times, I lose my temper and then you feel my wrath.
Depending on my disposition, I've been called by many a name.
I am really just the wind and my nature brings me my fame.
March 24. 2024
Inconvenient adversaries
Found you like a hidden message in a video diary
Convoluted execution
You’re a relapse waiting to happen
Learning to be proud of my reflection
More smiles than a wedding reception
Tune in,
Fade out
Here I am, undecided
To me,
Every star is a mini revelation
This time,
I’m becoming one with the illusion
Instructions come unclear and heavy handed
I’m redefining your introduction
And now that I have your attention
Life threatening circumstances I forgot to mention
Could go unnoticed
We’re all just pawns in someone else’s game
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
To a dog, an empty hand's cause
even a well-intentioned one
flinches an involuntary jaw..
your neighbor's just the same.
Have you grown leery the open palm?
wearied away as your brother's keeper.
Not responsible to his good name
nor good will as guarded trustee
over your godchildren.
No blame to you, good sir
or madam-
No right or wrong
by royal decree
monastic or fiduciary..
nor heavy handed scepter
to wield
relinquished or relished
as monarchal beneficiary.
Just the same, I
in fealty or name
skeptically question
right from wrong..
guilty as charged
all the day long.
Often what I read and I see,
some people scare me
put in my brother's shoes
I probably would too.
Wouldn't you love to know,
The love I failed to show;
Because I failed to see,
All the love in me.
Doubt that was branded,
By those heavy handed;
Who only commanded,
In the first degree.
They spawned indecision,
And lacked the precision;
To guide on my mission,
Out of gross misery.
The flames of desire,
Was meant to inspire.
To lift youself higher,
And set yourself free.
What kinds of measures are used,
When we determine between right and wrong?
Since these questions constantly arise,
Requiring answers to maintain and prolong.
Do we look beyond the ten from those tablets,
As those commands were from a time, long past?
Since those don't deal with our modern culture,
Like computers and other technology coming fast.
It seems to me that when weighing these values,
Simple basics can be balanced on the plates.
Where doing unto others, as to you is golden,
But those deeds differ through many debates.
Much of our morality has roots, from demagogs to
Demigods, as they would champion our cause.
Yet those didn't consider much of a future,
While millennia passed on historic flaws.
Ultimately, this question must be answered,
Because the solutions define character for each and all.
Where any good must be heavy-handed,
And we can progress beyond a crawl.
Dramatic moon glows high above the emerald mountains
Shimmering dreams of celestial romance fade to soft sparkles
Pierces the darkness in glorious rays of hopeful beams
Starlight whispers fall across the bleached branches of autumn
Once glistening with scarlet, tangerine and butternut golds
Starry skies reveal the luminous forest of naked limbs
Shadows laugh through the murky darkness, inviting nightmares
Silent dreams haunt the hearts who listen to the peace of nightfall
Black illusions drift across the soul with heavy handed doubt
Luna longings surface on the silent feelings breaking through
Soft rays of illuminating grace cascade along the woods edge
Brilliant breaths of rippling streams rise to fill the hungry desires
Nocturnal melodies flow up through the oaks, birch and pines
Hues of joy pour over melancholy of a dark foreboding
Music lingers on the heart who knows this is evening’s genius
Those Earthlings are at it again
Oh goody, let's listen in...
"Your brazen actions endanger the public welfare."
"Your unconstitutional actions constitute warfare!"
My, but they sure do go after each other
You'd think they'd try to work together as brothers
"Your political grandstanding is purely barbarian."
"Your heavy-handed directives are totalitarian."
Oh, here they go with their name-calling again
Yes. Their immaturity knows no end
And haven't we actually heard all this before?
For sure. Before each of their stupid wars
"Well if you try that, I assure you there will be consequences."
"Wutcha gonna do? Put us behind barbed-wire fences?"
Wow. I 've heard enough, haven't you?
Yup. Let's give 'em another thousand years or two...
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