At last count Saturn had 293 moons
One is larger than Mercury, 128 solar system M & M's
But, if somehow we could mount his wings and fly there
We couldn't stand upon the surface and gaze at any
We would sink in the miasma of our own demise
Ingesting vapor rising up from far below
Choking off any aesthetics we might hold
For any goddess that we have imagined
Our ticket to this underworld held over
A head that's thinking we should capture Titan
Artemis, Diana, or Selene might pale before them
But wouldn't pale by what's reflected there
Artemis retaining her ire and her vengeance
Selene and Diana at the crossroads stand as well
Their color eclipsed the while they faded
And we, whose love it is to gaze up at their orbit
Would lose the inspiration of the ages
Aged without the grace of beauty's presence
That our small world o'er time has thus afforded
Size matters... but no more than our perspective
growth is mostly hidden
until you see its actuality
like a seed in soil it's sprouts
with intentionality
what is God initiating in me?
what is He stirring in my heart?
what is God inviting me to do?
and how do I start?
and as I now elevate
on this journey called life
let my growth spurt be in sync
with my Lord Christ
what is God initiating in me?
what is He stirring in my heart?
what is God inviting me to do
and when do I start?
may my emotional health
advance my spiritual wealth
may my relationship with God
anchor His truths in my heart
no more fears, no more limitations
I'm growing into a new God creation
now spiritually nourished
now Scripture fed
I've had a growth spurt
by ingesting the Daily Bread
what is God initiating in me?
what is He stirring in my heart?
what is God inviting me to do?
and where do I start?
what is God initiating in me?
what is He stirring in my heart?
what is God inviting me to do?
and how do I start?
Platitudinous ponderosity
All these nouns sound so silly
A bawdy outward display from ostentation
A twist or fold from overt placation
An act, an instance or state of expansion
Increase in size from flatulent action
Assuming what is not natural or real
A false display of affectation or zeal
Pretension and haughtiness
It’s distastefully adorned with gaudiness
Promulgating esoteric cogitations
Articulating psychological observations
Ingesting superficial sentimentalities
Beware of platitudinous ponderosities
Resolution:
(And to all those who attempt to fleece
I have made a call to The Dream Police
And if you must know, his name is Rick
And he’s in band called Cheap Trick)
Empty, tasteless promises
Filling empty, tasteless pies
They fill our heads with fluff-n-stuff
And s'more empty, tasteless lies
Rich drips of sticky pudding
They kiss every sticky drop
They suck down all our milkshakes
Then lick sticky off the top
They smile empty, tasteless smiles
And lap up sticky off the floor
Then they eyeball our last cherry
Lick their lips and out the door
Let's stop eating tasteless pudding
Let's stop ingesting tasteless pies
I think it's time we eat more meat
Suck on your empty, tasteless lies
I wonder after his black spectacles,
if I could recognize his phantom's scare
by his bandy left foot, something he'd wear:
constrictor turtlenecks, cowboy buckles
his trials decided by flayed knuckles
his tombstone eyes, the depth of night they bear.
I wonder at the factors of his fear
as I adorn him with cherry jewels.
Your bass breathes, haply, the contents of love;
it whispers to me my shadows' secrets,
but dark articles ingesting your name,
face-eating barnacles that smutch our flame.
I'll be glad —a pigeon may be a dove—
to sprinkle Shakespeare over your Poe's grunts.
Seventeen was a time of nonchalant moments,
taking strolls on breezy lanes, smelling jasmines,
waving at the farmer tending to the rich harvest:
mystery unrevealed itself, making adventure last!
Who hasn't explored wonderous Nature hasn't felt joy,
harmonious and picturesque hills of various shades excited
this boy's flaming eyes drawing them a step closer to God;
there's was no thought of going back to town and play!
Should silver hair remind everyone how old I am?
I lived life well with the prospective to extend years
and be that example of longevity forgetting birthdays;
I saw a feeble man struggling on a cane: that was Sam!
No journey is too burdensome if planned diligently,
youth is the base of all awareness and confidence,
and from it springs forth the enthusiasm of excellence;
cultivate every virtue practiced and spoken so humbly!
Careless lives are cut short by ingesting those harmful substances,
puffing on cigarettes, gulping down excessive amount of deadly alcohol;
these people will not survive youth but destroy it with nasty habits:
how delightful is to spot silver hair, thinking to oneself:" I managed well! "
THE MAKING OF US IS NOT RIGHT FOR US
I am not for that
Though I do not remember giving of suck
From my mother’s breast
I was not made to be drinking, ingesting cow’s milk
THE MAKING OF US IS NOT RIGHT FOR US
Not supposed to was purposeful to eat vegetation
Not raw nor cook burning meat
Processed rephrased chemically altered
Though I be melanin we of the dark persuasion
Not created to be subjected, cast off and enslaved
I for be a King mine soul mate a Queen
THE MAKING OF US IS NOT RIGHT FOR US
I AM of I AM
Not your tool, servant, animal
I AM melanin man
Birthed from the heavens, a temporary visitor
Residencies abiding on vacating world
Where we’re supposed to toil
Not judge by fellow man, not to abuse womb-man
Birth spiritual placed temporal in a vessel
We alive
Only our matter dies
We are incarnate energy
WE Rise
THE MAKING OF US IS NOT RIGHT FOR US
12/16/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2024©
He went on an ayahuasca retreat searching for that magical seed.
To lead him up the stalk to his soul's treasury.
This white-collar fellow with money to burn, sitting before an old shaman.
Who'd so much to teach and he with so much to learn-
They quietly sipped the potion; the trip soon arrived.
On a psychedelic current, virgin constellation branding the eye.
After his ayahuasca odyssey, he told of wonderful things he'd seen.
Secret places he'd breached...
The mind expanding to the fringes of time.
Where he'd kissed a gilded silhouette of Jesus Christ.
He asked if I'd like to board the next mind expansion ride.
I politely declined.
Being concerned about ingesting a bad batch.
Perhaps clashing with a brass-knuckled devil.
The mind eroding into a total mental contraction.
I'm content strolling through this realm. clear minded
With its bits of heaven and hell.
I'll reach the next realm when the flesh is perfectly ripened.
It's not quite that time yet.
Way back a learned man tried to teach his
Students, the treatment of using leeches.
And to those who had doubting defiance,
They were told to, ‘Just trust the science.’
After all what’s wrong with bloodletting,
When good health is what you’ll be getting.
Yet sometimes leeching was overdone,
Which aided the death of George Washington.
Two hundred years ago some Calomel,
Was supposed to make sick patients well.
But some people cried out ‘It has cured me,’
To avoid ingesting more mercury.
And shockingly there’s coffee enemas,
To ease constipation dilemmas.
Yet its cure is just ‘pie-in-the-sky’,
Joining that list of cures, that are sci-fi.
Sci-fi persists with Coronavirus,
Since shots can bring on myocarditis.
Still, people long to be in compliance,
Coz for god’s sake, they trust the sci-fi-ence.
Why be like past sci-fi-ence enablers,
Who believe the paid off ‘expert’ fablers.
Why not take time to learn alternate views,
And debunk myths with good health and good news.
-skies landscapes horizons-
I for saw the bird in his above the door sill;
Wings a flamed flapping
Body still
Head bobbin up and down
Must be feeding little chicklet young
Body still
Bobbing ingesting their baby sparrows or is it robins?
6/21/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.2023?
The sun sank on the transit by and by
Took away the colors of the chameleon sky,
The masked face of clever craft on display
Enticed me to walk on the dark garden pathway.
The fluid dreams the sinister night sips
I didn’t hear the footfall of evil as it creeps
The devious intent prowled to devour
As the facade dissolved in the dark hour.
In the desolate domain of fright feral
On the gloomy ground under the sky dismal
You crept as the creature of sordid night
The haunting me you stalked out of sight.
You slithered from wilderness as nightrider
Unmasked, you morphed into a brute creature
On the hunt the unsuspecting predator keen
You lurked as the sinister sly animal of sin.
With the arcane acumen of the trickster devil
You crawled as squalid silhouette of menace evil
Stealthily into my being ingesting the essence prime
Consumed from my soul the ambrosia sublime.
_____________
March 29, 2023
For A Brian Strand Premiere No 1204
Incessant noise fills up the void
In darkness with no direction
No words discerned
With few concerns
To he who is still waiting
Ingesting all that drips and falls
For the void is unforgiving
Kindness withdrawals
Replaced with gall
And so remains unending
Just imagine if when next the heavens opened
The rain comprised of kindness and peace
Which was caught and bottled
To the world released
Every drop of water consumed
Contained pure kindness and peace
Whether it be straight water or not
These two virtues would hit the streets
Water in every shape and form
Natural or processed food or drink
Mankind ingesting these two virtues
Our world would change in a mere blink
Alas, If only it was that simple
To heal and mend our troubled earth
Troubles created solely by mankind
Simply neglecting nature and human worth
Brewed from a secret recipe
Nearly two hundred years old
Guarded by the family
Almost valuable as gold.
Using aromatic herbs from
Forty three different Nations
Gathered and despatched
From their various locations.
Distilled in Rheinberg
Forty four percent ABV
Guaranteed pure and
Contamination free.
Bottled labelled wrapped
in distinctive brown twist
Placed prominently by the bar
Where it just can’t be missed.
This miraculous infusion,
This real drinkers friend,
Has brought many a hangover
To a warm and pleasant end.
Very soon after ingesting
The upset is gone
And so for the dedicated
The drinking carries on.
For services to humanity,
For keeping drinking folk alive,
For all their essential work
May FamilyUnderberg thrive.
I can’t understand why
Much to my surprise
They have never ever been
Granted a Nobel Peace Prize
Sluggish swamp water seeps through cypress knee
Looking for the reclusive crocodiles now infesting,
Our air boat skims along the edge of Okeefenochee
Where we spy a prehistoric-like alligator ingesting
What appears to be an unwary otter or fox squirrel
Our guide points out a log laden with sunning turtles
With the reptiles in the swamp, we have no quarrel,
As accelerating our speed, the air boat soon hurtles
Until we reach a fairly secluded lush-covered glade
Hoping to see a cottonmouth searching for prey,
After considerable time in the sun, loving the shade
Unfortunately, for the snake the wrong time of day.
Our lunch is ham sandwiches and a frosty cold beer
As our guide points out a meadow-like field ahead,
Where we’ll likely see a smaller herd of mule deer
And, there the ravishing crocodiles waiting to be fed.
Written June 22, 2022
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