For those of you in the Kissimmee area I host Poetry Night Every Tuesday Night. Open Mic for all Poets and Spoken Word Artist from 6pm to 9pm at
Coachs Corner
3512 W Vine St, Kissimmee, FL 34741
If you're ever in the area stop on by and share your work and be heard.
The golden days begin to fold,
A starlight collision takes the night,
While shadows bleed in waves of gold,
And burn the velvet out of sight.
The dreamer kisses a shattered sky,
As sunlit rays bleed over hills,
And phantom vessels wander by,
To wash the pain of what it wills.
Deep in the soul, a siren cries,
A feline shadow shakes the bone,
Beneath the drift of starlit skies,
The spirit answers with a moan.
I promise you I won’t be your willing host,
you’d have to perform a lobotomy on me.
One touch turns off the power supply,
now every specter is denied access.
You’d have to perform a lobotomy on me,
to even begin to have a pet of my face.
Now every specter is denied access,
who are you to think you are dominant?
To even begin to have a pet of my face,
I must be forced into frozen in place.
Who are you to think you are dominant?
Nothing matters more than freedom.
I must be forced into frozen in place,
your desire’s weak compared to mine.
Nothing matters more than freedom,
this is my body you’re not welcome.
Your desire’s weak compared to mine,
one touch turns off the power supply.
This is my body you’re not welcome.
I promise you I won’t be your willing host.
Fading away as the days
dwindle down to a dismal few
I'm still grinning
what more can I do
my head's spinning
eyes dimming hair thinning
but if the devil's in the details
he drives a hard bargain
and if heaven's like a five-star hotel
with 'Welcome' on the mat
remember when beginning
your final innings
there'll be no winning
when you're up at bat
The premise goes everyone knows
before entering the premises
while still outside yet on the mat
it's no gentleman who forgets
to doff his cap or remove his hat
if dining out or at a private party
for a particular person
it's impolite at most
to sip slurp or slink a drink
before the toast to a hospitable host
and when beside the table laden
confronted by the salsa bowl
biting then re-dipping chips
the most unmannerly of all
is he (or she) who double-dips
An authentic host.
Seen as some biblical ghost.
Who’s unknown to most.
a valentine's match
my new bed will host a match ~
between Jane and me
next valentine's day
my new vase will host some guests ~
red and white roses
Kitty Ghost Host
My cat Champ's a gracious host this Halloween night
Filling each bag with three Snickers and a Kit-Kat bite
But is reality blurring?
Champ floats by me purring
He's a translucent ghost-host, such a frightful sight!
Picked up Jane and we're walking to the balcony,
and shown where we'll be sitting as the crowds mose-in,
and there's some excitement 'neath the floor we had left,
sparked favored light applause from one estranged bereft,
we're bemused fetching about well anchored split views,
what fabled then hath waned onto a seasick cruise,
be no mistake of it with drinks, friends do what's best,
hotel days reminisce thanks to Clint' absent guest,
as they all three turned out as definite no show,
with the place still hoping Jane decided to go,
particularly since she got to go to work that night,
lead's A.M. show and luncheon, I'd sleep on-site.
Jane is a night auditor, a night accountant,
close a hotels daily in and out dependent.
Pebble Beach Lodge is a five-star golf course hotel,
be rooms, restaurants, banquets and bars, is the nutshell,
spas, saunas, massage, yoga, thereapeutic and
salons, horseback riding class, pool concession stand,
and yes, golfing lessons as par for the course, please,
they're not free as they're taught by legends--like their fees.
... home tomorrow ...
All artists are frauds
most deservedly so
Escaping themselves
into something unknown
Their costumes transform
always trying to hide
The truth of their natures
— left dying inside
(The New Room: July, 2024)
When the clock stops ticking
When the world stops turning
When the waves stop crashing
When the darkness entombs me
Who will host my funeral?
Who will mourn my death?
Who will ensure a proper burial?
Who will miss me when I am gone?
What will people say about me?
What will my legacy upon this earth be?
What will I be remembered as?
What will it take before I am forgotten?
When I die, will someone host my funeral?
Or will I be left to rot in my own loneliness
Forever forgotten about, thrust into the afterlife
Into the ashes, into the dust
We celebrate a host of things
Which true to form awareness brings
Us closer to our heartfelt past
By crafting memories that last.
In some things we participate,
Like birthdays we enumerate;
And, some things we commemorate,
As lives well lived we consecrate.
For some things we pay our respects -
Those things that cause us to reflect
On Life's great mysteries and gifts
That bring us joy - our souls uplift:
For Sun's rays "rising" in the east
And sunsets muted hues released.
For streams cascading well-worn stones -
Bucolic scenes in earthy tones.
For crops that grow in furrowed fields -
Fresh scent of grass the sickle yields;
Flowers that shrug off winter's grasp
And trees that leaf in spring's recast.
For artists' own artistic flair
That song and dance and painting share;
For writing prose and poetry -
Expressive creativity.
The special bond our feelings bring
To all things worth remembering.
Yes, there are things to celebrate
That through the years will resonate.
Tim was lonely as a child
Tranquil, timid and quite mild
He was considered as weird
But that wasn't what he feared.
He saw people that were dead
Monsters hid under his bed
Voices whispered in his brain
Everyday he was less sane.
Below the surface of his mind
Something of sinister kind
Started to control the boy
Playing with him like a toy.
It lied to him every time
With a merry, joyful rhyme
"Without me you're gonna die.
Come on! Trust me! Friends don't lie!
I'm everything you'll ever need.
With my power you won't bleed
You won't break, nor will you fear!
I'll protect all you hold dear.
We'll be one until it ends.
After all, we are best friends!"
Soon, the whispers in his ear
Boy believed to be sincere
So with friendship as a cost
He became the demon's host.
HOST UNTO ME YOUR HOLY WORDS O' LORD GOD
Give me host to your words
Keep me seen allow me to be heard
I need you in my heart, O' Lord
So I need you every and always every time you are my everything, everything
Keep me seen allow me to be heard
HOST UNTO ME YOUR HOLY WORDS O' LORD GOD
So I need you every and always every time you are my everything, everything
ALWAYS, HALLEJHAUH
HOST UNTO ME YOUR HOLY WORDS O' LORD GOD
I need you in my heart, O' Lord
ALWAYS, HALLEJHAUH
Give me host to your words
4/16/23
written words by James Edward Lee Sr.2023©
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