Love is a recipe and will always be a recipe.
We are each other’s medicines, each other’s cure, best taken (and given) by mouth.
forget not king warning demonic
danger incremental gradual liberal
nor genocide joey precedent
nor dispensation donny cleansing
oligarchy authority false choice
g ford greater more effective evil
empire merrikka people subjects
rejects will well being ignore
dream fruition arriving never more
guard commons free speech farmed
private sector extract boiled ready frog
politic elect thesbian culture war
tonies grammies oscars divide conquer
chopping chomsky consent manufacture
wealth income earth labor rare birth
despair lament pay rent higher
proper response race both blatant
subtle kinder gentler totalitarian
all planet people planted excluded
possible power economic politic
remote hemmed chemical psycho
social escape routes addict dead ends
abundant narrate nook craney cross
every color four bid three finger all pro
nouns nun since seeing poking stabbing
lids bins laden all gore beat rhyme
tapdancing tintinabulation embedded
robot tune ruin seesaw sooth soul life
sleep endless bow dark nestle loud
selah
Eventide, the sun sinks low
at the seashore, waters flow
Pre-dawn morning, streaks of magenta
heaven’s canvas fills, incremental
If we could look into the seeds of time,
and say which grain will grow and which will not,
we would arrange our affairs defiantly
in the face of current opposition.
If a thought should geminate and flourish
in the barren soil of the status quo,
it would likely be by sheer providence
that ideas would come to fruition.
Our dreams, our very imagination,
are what keep our momentum in this world.
Sans the prospect of incremental feats,
we would not strive to attain excellence.
If the portent of riches entices us,
would we forsake every value system
to attain the pinnacle of success?
No one could portend the foreordained path.
one
slowly
adds, hard fought
with persistence
until much
feels like
naught
----------
A Sept, a seven line poem with syllable counts of 1/2/3/4/3/2/1
Motivated by growth,
So it's hard to lose.
Incremental progress,
Yeah that's the move.
Little by little,
Start expanding your views.
Little by little,
Start enhancing your mood.
You get to choose,
Who,
You want to be.
Reminds me of my hero,
Mamie Till-Mobley.
She made a choice,
To,
Stand with dignity.
Open that casket and
Let the world see.
Adversity.
Reveals,
That person inside.
They’ll either stand tall,
Or they’ll run & hide.
And in a room full of hate,
She stood with pride.
Mask off no filter,
No disguise.
I’m alive.
Now.
Been dead for a minute.
Took off those mental chains
And now I have no limits.
Had to put the pride down and let the ego diminish.
Looking in the mirror I think I like what’s in it.
I thought
flowers of this summer sky would be mine,
official increment would shine daily expenses
I thought
this year would be crown twenty match
in my twisted love
Forty nine fiery lockdown days
Almost eighteen thousand infected
Two hundred sixty nine died
My country peoples
Hilarious
The more lockdown days the more infections and deaths
Parallel acceleration
Today on foot to my office
As if I am in masqueraded town
Ghostly environment is activated in city officialese
Incremental veins and festival bonus are dead with infected souls
My thought making me stranded forlorn sand home
13.05.2020 (Chattogram City)
By the grave I saw blacken snow flakes
Lightning flashed as I witness
Drawn down from blacken purple skies
Burst of brilliants, winter blast snow blind
Upon a midnight electrics static,
you came gently clanging
Deep into that darkness changing, snow blind
To warn me about the steady
That incremental isocheim - that incremental isocheim
Death shall bring trends
Eagerly I looked for tragedy, wintertime
The festivals alteration adjusting
The dynamics brought such sorrow, snow blind
I have dreams of flows misting snow men and women kissing
I crave the coolish, changeable climate
The cyclic cold snap contouring
Take thy gruel hot coal from out my heart
Come stand wit me twit the freezing blizzard
Come dear heart
Much I marveled the integrated icebox
The snow-covered snowplow steadying shoveling
So inviting is the thought…
To be frozen with me come not see will be so kind
If together we be 2 frozen lovers just snow blind
1/29/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2020©
I expected my life of days would be fairly calm.
Only the enlightened ancestors would follow me.
I’d mimic them and love and sing their favorite psalm.
Instead this mystic mind does not escape blood’s history.
Where can we go where it won’t be in our sight?
Why do we swallow enticing liquid until blind and then insane?
Terror incinerates every cell and sweats thick human fright--
As ninety proof storms of liquor reign.
Repeat, repeat, repeat the ritual of hell, while lips pray but know,
That the incremental burning flavored sips will win.
Stop! Wait! And shake and wake and gasp and sob, “Death let me go!”
Release, please, relief please, release, take out the liquid knife.
Save this non believer even if it means, feeling.
Hesitant awakening ...
misty veil reveals another
24 sixty
incremental uncertainty
Retinal unwillingness
Indecision guides each fretful,
retrograde step
Nocturnal blurred moral vision
offers no lucid clarity ...
only ethical neutrality
What’s the right thing to do?
Hollow convictions refuse to ask,
opaque principles
don’t have crystal
clear courage to bravely choose
Ain’t nothing left to soul salvage,
a gluttonous life
squats out enamel feelings empty
Leaving just a cockatrice shell
of tear-tainted desires
Temporal reverie of carnal thoughts:
gold mind lust
foolishly lung expired
The rosy pleasures of youth has age withered;
a sullen heart shattered,
pierced by thorny choices from fallen pain petals
A reluctant dawn
reoccurs
in the sunset years
Dwindling light of hope
presently disappears
As grave, past misgivings
take hold
of tomorrow fears
A hint of blush
‘pon the tips
Of leaves still lush
As lover’s lips
A breeze that sighs
As if t’was tired
Of mid-Summer highs
In doldrums mired
A crisped dry smell
Perfumes the air
Clings tight as well
To clothes and hair
A dusk that darkles
With unseemly haste
Midst Fireflies sparkle
Midst daylight chased
A trace of wood smoke
Scents the breeze
And woolen cloaks
Appear ‘pon knobby knees
Ol’ Apple trees…
Scarlet blushed in fruit
Seem piously to proffer pleas
For their scions to take root
Degree by degree…
Doth the Earth slowly tilt
Unperceived by you and me
But blossoms notice…begin to wilt
A change incremental
So slow as to be imperceptible
So cosmically elemental
So basically inevitable
A Summer that begins to show…
Its age in ways
With longer nights
And shortened days
Prepares perhaps
To soon take leave
It’s time’s elapsed
No time to grieve
Fall awaits it’s turn to shine
Upon Mother Nature’s stage
Summer sips water melon wine
And savors scent of sage
11 stanzas
171 words
(stock up on photons while they last)!
Reduction asper daylight hours to worship
will immediately arise after
2018 North American orbital trip,
viz zits summer solstice (human primal
solar deification) riding astride spaceship
Earth, albeit 6:07 Ante Meridiem
Thursday June 21st noticeably slip
ping thru space beginning to harvest
incremental darkness as Gaia rip
pulls across wrinkle in time
daylight will undermine a loss,
and over the next month approximately jip
ping United States kinsfolk, who revere El Sol
quotidian solar rays, by one hour
and eight minutes (i.e. 4080 seconds),
thence trumpeting seriously
moonlighting re:
getting down to brass tacks business - grip
ping a markedly steadfast advancement,
whence August arrives (watch out),
cuz cutthroat prime rate (zero APR) doth clip,
and clock about two minutes per diem,
quite a substantial blip.
While wandering, I wonder much
Of life and love and other such
That I possessed yet left behind
For life is not a static thing
No stagnant or eternal spring
Forever in its youth confined
And time will always find a way
To push us onward day by day
Into a future undefined
Until it happens is revealed
Was unimagined now … is real
And we can see where once were blind
While wandering, I wonder much
About the magic of the touch
Of things that I can scarce recall
For some have left without a trace
While some declined this mordant pace
To speed their ultimate withdrawal
Yet some remain to stay the course
To keep us sane and reinforce
A conscious yet subjective thrall
Such makes the most of what is left
Despite the incremental theft
That cannot be forever stalled
In time all memories depart
But what I had is never lost
It lives forever … in my heart
grinding of the wheel...
it’s incremental welding
...sparks of silver stress
5/9/2018
I never dreamt
Mathematics once a terror
I’ve ever learnt
From my life would delete a major error
As I struggled to make sense
Out of the labyrinth
Mathematics built from the nonsense
The terror in silly stealth
Conveyed in minds
That by dint of patience and perseverance
Gleaned from underneath concepts, processes and procedure behind blinds
Rewarded in a walk punctuated by persistence and insistence
To spawn understanding
Continually growing in incremental steps
To facilitate a commanding
Assimilation not through biceps or triceps
But through pen and paper dedicated practice
Through sweat and tears
Carving justice
Clearing all the fears
Mathematics once held
In my brain and in my attitude
Until with misconceptions withheld
Along grew fortitude and soared my latitude
Prompting the belief
That you, too
Could cut out the mischief
That claims you’ve got no Mathematics clue.
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