Mother once told me to trust a man is like giving your life away on a silver platter.I didn’t understand at first, but as I got older, I grew wiser and more understanding.Soon enough, I saw what she meant, but I ignored her—a fatal mistake that would undo me.My husband impregnated me; I had a daughter, then a son.I tried to teach the same lesson my mother tried to teach me to my daughter.I swore I would never become like my mother; foolish mistake, for I have to say never.Now I see why people say never say never.
Mother once told me to trust a man is like giving your life away on a silver platter.I didn’t understand at first, but as I got older, I grew wiser and more understanding.Soon enough, I saw what she meant, but I ignored her—a fatal mistake that would undo me.My husband impregnated me; I had a daughter, then a son.I tried to teach the same lesson my mother tried to teach me to my daughter.I swore I would never become like my mother; foolish mistake, for I have to say never.Now I see why people say never say never.
Once he had one he wanted to constrict it, like a boa; a python, to hold closely guarded the thing for which demure closets stay closed like iron-waitresses pervading the hostel with lime-light the lemony-snickett cackling in the born-and-bred flames, curling irons prod the paper-clip open but the stamp endures, a timid interred girl beghosts the earls. The favorite simple plan, favored in heavens gamma, where brightness surely waits in pavilion the concert. My concerto is made-man italian, the devise impregnated, like hollow bells that sour, the grim sugar from said waitress, we wildly call the crows to set and chime on the lines where workmen craft blue ribbons atop the farmland graves.
Not nearly long enough, a king’s words
what to expect from a tyrant's paradox absurd
She holds the cobalt blue bowl to her lips
making sure not a drop is lost as consumed
a grape tint gauze tied gently around her hips
it tells of an impregnated womb
a farewell toast to the warriors aboard ships
or a drink of what they’ll lack, that and more
of the destiny a young husband has in store
departing are ships, she ponders them upon the sea
the open book in front of her kept unread
behind her, replacement ships underway, as relief
what has been too long, for any sailor this dread
out at sea in despair of the unknowing, the grief
Of sailors jumping overboard, an S O S ignored
what any wife can’t bear, their king has no empathy
furious are the wives of the lies told
a sword has stricken through the hearts of gold
replacement ships finally, underway to relieve
what has been too long for any sailor out at sea
you are angry
at yourself.
you feel
impregnated- swollen with
primordial rage blistering,
splintering your rib cage.
pretty blush pink lips firm and tense
with disgust.
warm chasing, begging, pleading
-for love—
what has become?
your children stare back through
ashen grey frosted pane—
Freeze frame blue screen eyes.
They are
freezing.
your connection is freezing—
and you sob
for a man who ices his conflicted interior
Intentionally
and spits on your offerings, dismissively
shoves his anger like fingers down your throat as you vomit pleading nothings.
you are a stronger, now- to yourself.
The internal dialogue- print press tapping,
Always muttering
“but they didn’t love me this much.”
“But it could have been worse.”
“But if only I-“
its okay.
I
love
you
this much and
I
See
Your
Worth
When you have lost everything, and you are left stood upon flattened barren ground
Where the drones around you create a deep hum but you no longer hear their sound
A small body alone covered in dust; and in this child’s eyes nothing but a vacant stare
A family and friends wiped out in a matter of milliseconds, no one left for him to care
Tears rolling from his un-blinking eyes creating their own cervices on his clay like face
Such a bitter lesson on this small boy of a war he never asked for or wanted to create
Taken in the arms of the rescuers, and whisked away to a foreign land not understood
Destined to grow into a great leader of peace, his destiny as impregnated in his blood
Who took in that unsacred moment of time to see and feel the reality of a wasted war
Brought about peace to all nations, no weapons of war ever to be raised again he saw
Although there is sunshine you yet Stand in the Rain;
It's soul unusual purposeful even in the pain;
There is a great among you from your belly you call out the name;
Holy-Wholly Glory Jesus Hallelujah
Impregnated with the peace the joy and love;
Harvest is plentiful time to pick the plentiful;
So alluring so adorning His Mercy for Grace;
I can see the gratitude and the salvation all over your face;
Holy-Wholly Glory Jesus Hallelujah
5/2/25
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.2025
Stolen and re-rooted here,
We can no longer be as
Their virgin forest—
Raped and impregnated
By heirs of their slavery,
And rechained with infertile
Emancipation ejaculations:-
With this climax,
Need I seek to excrete
Anymore aborted reality?
How many women here
have been impregnated
by Elon Musk? looking for hands
He plans to repopulate the planet
single handedly - well, not handed
exactly - you know what I mean.
In Australia, great swaths of Texas,
and of course Mar-a-Lago, he’s a serial offender,
because his sperm is legal tender.
Factoid: you might catch a disease,
he’s sleeping with everyone north of Belize
and several of them, frankly, look sleazy.
Of course, you’d have to listen to him talk. shivers
Unless you say, “Hey, can we do this without conversation?”
That’s when you’d slip on your sleep mask, and, well, you know.
But what would you be thinking about?
.
.
FUN! by KiNG MALA [E]
BLOODONTHETIMBS by Bren Joy [E]
PRAISING ANCHORED INVESTED POETIC TIME
(Apropos Of My Brilliant Poetry Extended Family)
Sitting there with quiet waves
Of a full wrinkling oceanic mind,
Smooth pensive allegorical thoughts
Flow to a self waiting thirsty anchoring
To buoy and deeply deposit and bank
Until their pregnant birthing interest
Has accrued and their pen established:-
Meanwhile, be blessed assured, that time
Invested in these waving words, quietly flowing
To soon wet the shores of welcoming desired minds,
Has not been an evaporated waste of watering time:-
No, what has accrued, is deemed to be
The impregnated frothing inspirations from
The wise watered-waving womb of our mind’s
Flowing poetic ocean of awareness, peace, and love:-
So, come on now–sailing poets–anchor up!
Set sails and get swelling awareness streaming!
Those here on distant shores are anxiously
Awaiting our fueling, frothing inspiration:-
A pen, a paper, a random thought
like a stray bird in the net is caught,
Writhing like the fish out of river
Probe, explore, analyze, deliver…
Unravel, ere it escapes or dies
impregnated by the muse in disguise.
The days were brighter then,
When without the slightest effort, I’d succeed in making a good impression.
Now it seems no one knows me to be “good”,
How will they? I’ve hardly provided any proof
I used to swim in an ocean of praise,
And I’d bring home what I perceived to be, good grades.
My smile-wreaked of genuine ecstasy
Now it seems to be impregnated with melancholy.
Desolated and a mess,
I’m losing the best part of myself.
I feel as though I’m burning out like a candle,
One, I fear won’t ever rekindle.
My passion, I know has not yet, been misplaced,
Even at my darkest hour,
I refuse to let years of hard work go to waste.
It’s foolish to even think
That I’m on the brink
Of failing to chase a legacy
Created by the so-called “old” me.
To great lengths I’d go to get that girl back
And as I’m latching on to the faintest hope of getting her on track
I urge her not to abandon me and depart forever
Because I don’t know who I am without her.
*On The Run*
Hunted by my past, trailed by my shadow,
Intoxicated by elixir of youth,
I climb the ìrókò beyond the leaves.
Wail of woes, dehydrated dreams
Crushed in the battlefield of the deep;
Love lost, hoarse voice, greying hairs.
The wind slaps me cold,
Drunk with evil pleasure,
Sweet sorrow envelopes me;
Then it dawns on me,
I’d frittered the forest and harried the sea
With eyes larger than my stomach
While lost in the jungle of ambition.
I have impregnated the sand
and birthed blood;
Now,
Buried in the remnant of the night,
Fame
Is a remote treacherous valley
of thorny roses.
Wandering in the wilderness of civilization,
The stench of my decomposing sins has found me out.
A prisoner in my own skin,
I must hide and run,
And run and hide.
Solace in firewater and ghettos,
Like the hourglass,
I must hit the highway
And journey to nowhere.
In the end,
I can't outrun my shadow.
The space animated. The place migrated.
The taste of possibility, pigmented,
invisibly, orientated by shifting atmosphere,
arousal, of fickled nothingness'?
impregnated?
As witness consciousness, we hush heart’s blush
Thoughts rested, attention animated
In time stretched calm, placid, peaceful and plush
From mundane existence, insulated
With cravings of lower mind vacated
Treading gently, renouncing pathways stern
We feel presence by love impregnated
Engulfed in bliss mists, we willingly burn
Humming a melody, as does the thrush
We play out our ordained role, as fated
Every heartbeat heightens, with love our crush
Each emote now as by truth dictated
Demons of our past, thus decimated
Benign love friction causes nodes to churn
How long for this moment, soul has waited
Engulfed in bliss mists, we willingly burn
Polarities dance, the mingle and brush
Nodes within are, by spirit rotated
Feeling a sublime elixir onrush
No wonder heart is always elated
Surging joy that cannot be translated
Magnetism cascades in mind-body urn
Each breath prayerfully celebrated
Engulfed in bliss mists, we willingly burn
Gently thus, by grace initiated
Twice born, we live on, truth of Self discern
Transformed by light, soul’s illuminated
Engulfed in bliss mists, we willingly burn
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