I see a problem with religion,
It's like a competition,
You can't just slip in.
They want you to fit in.
To help heal your sin.
"You can stay, on One Condition."
Tything an imposition,
Sects creating division,
Trying to see who will win.
What if GOD has a different mission?
Just listen to your intuition,
Not their newest edition,
Or blindly follow tradition.
Have the ambition,
Become a new addition,
A true Magician.
An end to all suspicion.
Put fear in remission.
God's the physician,
In the perfect position,
To bring dreams to fruition.
Come join the Coalition,
Life is the auditon,
Your the Musician.
Love is the ammunition,
To defeat opposition.
This is Your rendition,
You give it definition,
And GOD gets the recognition.
The one and only condition.
winter approaches
snowflakes tumble from the sky-
a sprinkle of white
As brisk breezes scatter leaves around,
Autumn colors confetti the ground.
Winter winds howl through barren branches
blowing off any remaining leaves.
Mother Nature is in transition;
stripping the scenery yet again.
The naked trees are in remission;
till Spring showers, water them with rain,
and green canopies, supplant the plain.
Welcome to my peach pity party
It’s my own fault it’s started
Without music I so lavender love
I find my pen more and piano not enough
I have ambitions and I notice now
That time is ticking winding down
I’m sure to die poor and unknown
I’m ok with that but dreams are blown
Dreams of leaving earth better than it was
Dreams of leaving inheritance and love
Dreams of not dying alone at home
Dreams of never being weak but strong
I don’t wear Cpap so I’m doomed
Lupus in remission but could anytime bloom
I have overcome some dilemmas thankfully
But God still put impossible dreams in me
Why so that I strive despite my hard head
Writing my dreams that I will never live
In a way I have because you read my lines
When a poetic thought starts in my mind
So pity party you are here with me
Embracing my poems and deferred dreams
I’m no longer a girl with the canvas sky
But a mature woman who uses ink to fly
Like a desert lily
Like February sunshine
Like an August rain
Like daisies in a pavement crack
Like a cat on your lap
Like a parent's compliment
Like a child's gratitude
Like a smile on the subway
Like an oasis in the desert
Like regaining your sight
Like cancer in remission
Like a winning lottery ticket
Like a reconciled marriage
Like an armistice announcement
Like a stay of execution
Like a rolled away stone
by an empty tomb
Finely-tuned eyes; transparent disguise
Charisma in lies concealing blue eyes
I know you’ll have questions for likely suspects
You’ll squeeze all your snitches for everything left
But, reading this now, you know to be true
My eyes like the ocean; adrift in the blue
So take me away in the last midnight car
Forgetting all the pain that led me this far
Captivity leaving me feeling confined
This body of mine is flawed by design
Beg of me softly; and show me you care
Now, witness the flame engulfing my hair
Breathe into me, my last fantasy
Bring to me wounds to wage against me
Lost in remission; my crimson will glisten
My methods persistent; lean in and listen
Witness the rise and the fall of my chest
The cage that was built for a final caress
I’m rising above perceptions of me
Cause nothing is ever as right as it seems
So tell them the stories; dark alleys I knew
The paths that I walked; a sunrise in view
I’m free of designs in dead pine below
With smiles to align; fallen angels you know
I received a comment on my post
I attempt exposure once again
Shall I perish by others' words?
Rein in heartbeats like a strict handler
Or ride the bronco bareback?
Awakened from depression on hope
I thought I was free from validation
When will mania be domesticated?
My drama on a fruitless escapade
At least my heart finds its gait
Grounded I have laundry to do
Really I have a house to vacuum
But, a comment on my poetry
Is it coffee or coffers of expectation?
Shall I wait for this present to pass
Wondering if it is critical or in remission?
Can one comment fill an empty day?
Look up to the sky where poetry is born
What’s next behind one encore?
Good poetry comes when vessels are empty
Nature comes to fill the void in a vessel
But one poem is not everlasting H2O
Filling this vassal with eyeballs
Yet when my love returns tomorrow
After 12 days of absence disquieting
My heart skips quietly to a cantor
Keeps my polarities from spinning
Grounds me from prying stares
No poem is constant like loved ones
No comment compares to thee
Contribution is a wild ride
Fingers on the keyboard
Sweating
The tidyings of a town
here we are in Croydon
trying to make a stand
Seen so many charges
a 15% council tax rise,
fall from clumsy hands
Our Whitgift centre a shell of a complex!
The whole town has a forgotten ring
Do the dangly dance now
A town in remission
isn't too grand
'I'M NOW IN REMISSION'
Here's a message to my illness, you can go and yourself
I'm the master of my mind when it comes to mental health
Over the years you have put me through so much horrendous
I'm the one who had the last laugh because I am now mentally fit
You created a monster when you chose to hurt my mind
I fought my way out of the darkness despite the fact that I was blind
You asked me many questions and i came up with the answers
I was battling depression and then I was diagnosed with cancer
To me this was just like a double edged sword
To give up and quit was something i could not afford
The cancer has been obliterated and I'm now in remission
I possess determination, dedication, motivation and ambition
Recovery to me is such a wonderous thing
When it comes to mental health then I believe I am the king
With mental health I am educated, each avenue has been explored
I don't take life for granted, I work hard for my reward
I no longer have depression, I've sent it to Hell
It's remarkable to think how far I've come since that very first time I fell
broken chariot we cannot fix
our strong, precious love is still in the mix
broken chariot we can always replace
the strength of our strong, precious love will always save face
broken chariot we know not the definition
our strong, precious love survived many cancers and always in remission
broken chariot we can always redefine
our strong, precious love is like water that makes our everything more beautiful and refined
She says she doesn’t
Doesn’t believe it
Love is impossible
Everyman she’s dated
All minds were deflated
All they want to do is bump and grind
You can read between the lines
You really know what I mean
Sexual gratifications
Never a vacation
All they want to do is bump and grind
You know what I mean
She is more than just a object a sex toy
She’s somebodies sister, daughter
So in remission
She awaits marriage
Maybe one man will have the courage
To do his husbandly duties on the honeymoon
Cause nobody’s gitin any sugar in their Kool-Aid tonight
Well praise God (Go sit on some ice boy and take a cold shower)
3/20/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2022©
Oh ! Lord what color is the rain
And where hence does it fall in
This dismal place of all the garden is
Land in remission there is a drought
And humanity has fallen it has forgotten its course
Please Oh God replenish my soul
Give me a place where I am known
I'm calling on the power of a present God
Riegn down your mercies unto me
3/1/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2022
I will not be rewarded for being a martyr.
Giving into fate is smarter.
These lies we will cherish.
As we allow our influence on this world to perish.
They teach us that we are under their possession.
And that we are not allowed to give into our obsessions.
But we can tell that there is tragedy in remission.
As we have to give up our homes and tend to these new positions.
As it becomes clear that waiting is our only option-
In order to escape we must walk through a forest of curtains.
In this fog there is a secret to be learned–
Which is that our identity is to be earned!
Dear Carolyn
My sincerest kind regards
to you and yours
I only hope and pray you R.I.P
And god speeds and delivers
you hastily unto his heavenly
boosom and everlasting grace
And so to whence there the
both of you gleefully recite
poetry back and forth
forevermore to each other
Safe in the knowledge you
are finally in remission
Patiently waiting to receive
your loved one's once again
So Adieu Farewell Goodbye
Sweet Dear Carolyn
You your poetic word's
and comments will
surely be sorely missed
You Soup Legend
long may your work's
live on
Even though you
have cruely now passed on
and been stolen from us all
8/3/2021
I write to spread more than unease.
As people gather and read that I am unpleased.
With this world that stutters when they hear my condition.
I am now free, though not in remission.
No matter what anyone says to the contrary
I firmly believe in miracles, not the divine kind
Turning plain water into fine wine, necessarily,
But seeing a newborn deer first learning to run
A deaf child hearing sound for the very first time
A spectacular natural eclipse of the morning sun,
Tests confirming a dreadful disease is in remission
Watching an unfolding rosebud flare out in full bloom
Imagining complex formulas proving nuclear fission.
Miracles are often showing up in the smallest feat
Coming when least expected--in a windfall, a bonus
Or, just when we had given up all hope in defeat,
Victories over those formidable obstacles, you see,
Are identifiable, verifiable, bonafide miracles to me.
Written June 15, 2021
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