It was surprising me then a lot,
For my new mission now,
Before a virgin from a little town,
The Lord Creator, how?!,
Will be a boy in human bosom, womb,
But when I see Mary close,
She plays a simpleton,
Interrogate, question:
"I'm a maiden, I don't know."
By Isaiah's book, she verifies me in response,
That I'm not a demon,
I'm not, but understand more:
Now liar may not lie ever again about God,
What He would not be? Love,
What He would be? Arrogant before all,
And did the "defective creation" therefore,
When the commandment of life would be something wrong,
It would be better to be a self-idol like Judas Iscariot?
No, it is wrong, this abomination of desolation, the poison!
But from inequality come the source of sorrow,
Humble God and humanity working together in All in This Boy Lamb,
The Inspiration gives the Freedom,
Annunciation Glory,
Blessed are You, Abraham's daughter,
And miraculously Mother,
How Isaiah too well spoke,
Mother of the Eternal Son,
The Earth of Sabbath for New Adam Young Lion of Zion,
The Ark alive for the Word,
My wings covering above.
The hour suggests me
the day re-forms
No need to interrogate mirrors
thawing revelations have turned glass
into watercourses
I have begun to live out-of-myself
- at a distance
a new skin for an old ghost
just a breath away
and no longer clutching
at an out of hand
life raft
Whoo-
In use of a questioning-
What or which person or people
Interrogative —
Need further information
Giving about of a person
Introduce a clause
A mentioned
Conveying the force of a question.
A hard, interrogate inquisitorial
intrigued
investigative
catechistic
catechistical
Interrogatives are not likely who is being…
Interrogative —
Whoo-
In use of a questioning-
What or which person or people
Interrogative —
WHOO-
1/30/2025
written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2025©
Among tales told long ago were those
of finding hidden buried treasures,
of growing seeds in diverse soils,
of building homes on sand or rock,
of sorting worthy sheep from wicked goats,
of inviting multitudes to a banquet,
of celebrating a prodigal returning home,
of saving a life by a scorned Samaritan.
Jesus loved earthly stories
with heavenly implications.
His parables were spiritual seeds
sown in hearers’ hearts and minds,
analogies thrown alongside
puzzling narrative plots,
poignant truths with shocking twists
and unexpected outcomes.
Deceptively simple, sly stories
with multiple potential meanings,
his parables perplexed expectations,
and upended usual understandings.
Even his bewildered disciples
pleaded for private interpretations.
During careful contemplation,
parables interrogate our lives.
Providing few easy answers,
parables compel us to ponder.
(First published in Earth & Altar, 14 Nov. 2024. See also my poems “God Around the Corner” and “Consider the Dreaming Birds.”)
Walking here and there,
Scrounging for messages of Care,
Journalists of the day.
Standing by at door or gate
Spirited, to interrogate the great.
A long-serving microphone,
Miking words from those interviewed,
And an esteemed bagged camcorder on the shoulder;
Always await eventual days
So they’d pace with grace
But, their presentations tremble under status’ feet
Whereto their integrity doth greet.
Their job hence counts slackness of Justice:
That if they are to question a poor fellow,
They’ll do it diligently till he’s zero
But if they are to question a rich man,
Minister or president in particular,
The ‘eye-box’ is covered with red cloth,
Their journals closed,
And their inkers halt;
They’ll compromise till he’s out of any cases.
Sorry
They are!
Turning a blind eye to the rich’s injustices
And giving a bright eye to the poor’s…
Yellow Journalism eke in Africa?
Questions I often questioned myself, It's not a lack of one's faith
yet it's the concerns and matters demonstrated by accounts from
people. Questions
I often interrogate myself about who, what, when, where, why, and how.
Uncertainties, hesitations, battles how I was dealt the hands of these
cards. Questions
No, I'm not standoffish, hostile, or even antagonistic I'm safeguarding
and waterproofing my mental state of mind from people, places and
situations. Questions
Alternatives, routes are taken to turn back from dark alleys, friendly
faces lurking to bring naught to dim one's light. Questions
Acceptance of oneself character healing on a daily journey in nature
of self importance attentively. Questions
these unconventional cats who are dicks
forties detectives to you out of comic strips
make others nervous anyway me
go by their last names, like Marlo or Spade
interrogate usual suspects under spotlights
look to save a damsel or two
offices are dirty
in a sordid side of town
I run from these dicks
When you entice me
stare at
steadfast
you will ponder
what I project
too many males
relentlessly own
or terrible pattern
Untrusted
stand tall
I agnize this feeling
Outside the rules
the truth is the last
your shine
caught me ignorant
too defenseless gaping
interrogate
if I quit
dedication.
Written: October 16, 2022
SURROUNDED
on the
terrace
shimmering
in the
breeze
concerns
of the
present moment
portals
to
a dialogue
conception
has evolved
encompassing
vocal
demands
a dynamic
which rise
to a
vision
expansive
&
searching
but
thoughtful
&
surprising
its resonance
never incoherent
with a
distinctive feel
it evokes
a cluster
of deep
layers of
time
bright airy
unobtrusive
take their cue
to interrogate
& redefine
to hold
a mirror
&lay bare
problems
to
restore
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Copyright © Brian Strand
CARTOON SATIRE
silent ways
so revealing
pursed by
the contemporary
back&forth
innovation
emerging
to interrogate
a validity
of the disparate
& discarded
exhibit
an interest
in the intense
contemplate
& consider
the inanimate
creating
the fanciful
reversing
the anchronostic
in
the incongurous symbols
indictive
of
connotation
THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE without grammatical symbols the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and respond thus making the form a two way interplay and often a unique interpretation by the enigma so derived
AURA OF THE EXPERIMENTAL
palpable
energy
in possibilities
of shape
pictorial
unconventional
experential
in
curved form
of empty
space
embedded
in three
dimensions
a collade
of natural
variation
with jagged
incisions
to evoke
the disparate
in the
distintinctive
& interrogate
&transform
THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE without grammatical symbols the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and respond thus making the form a two way interplay and often a unique interpretation by the enigma so derived
Perhaps not be detected,
but poetry is not pleased
of prolixity...
Neither flatter itself with
adjectives...
Poetry does not appreciate
lack of objectivity of
repetitive vocabulary, and
dramatically hates
pimping flourishes...
Poetry does not feel
honored by
poor rhymes...
Dreams of reaching the senses...
Wishes enchant,
thrill, interrogate
to change this world!
However if this is not understood in
the fundamental reason:
it is not poetry... !
she had a gift, a gleam
her poetry that scanned like autobiography
measured verses that re-made her life
reborn
in experiences with a fuchsia sheen
a lamp that sometimes shifted in its blue light
sometimes to quilted hues
her day to day hopes of recovery
when survival was everything
a wish, communal, that everything would turn out alright
but something cellular, inside, worked against her
sometimes death evades comprehension
we can't interrogate it
but the camera swings away till it finds her words
that are a testimony of someone
shimmering
a poet who flourished in our world
because of what we all share
a life that's not small
it lingers
in words
that matter, that stand
and bring you to a standstill
s t i I l
The Amourette Autopsy
In vesper’s curt caress there seems no bind
To daylight’s brim or morning’s dire decree-
Your vertigo embrace confounded vows,
Within a steel wheeled cauldron we stirred swamps
We hyperventilated hurricanes
Cajoled embraces, arrogated from
your groom and registry and welling eyes;
Celestial bliss, we buzzed God's prayer vault.
We even deemed the telescopic murk
a trough where genuflections might could reach;
You spun away to opium dens, supine,
I could not trace Icarian designs.
You tiptoed the obituary scene
Without your leaving even a toe’s wake-
But in your swirl you must have slipped but once
in its ambitious, enterprising ink.
Oh butterfly why you abjured your wings,
Regressed to the cocoon womb’s staid address?
I wish I could interrogate your wraith
by dream, concussion, disembodiment.
Enraptured by your sallow soft trained tress-
drapes gaped to manifest seraphic tones
of fairness, though distraught by varying hues
that sapience esteems the bends of life
The daddy comes down the stairs.
So what were you guys talking about?
He is five
Thinks he is on the same level as every person on the planet
I marvel at his presumption
We would have never thought to interrogate adults
About their conversation
in the olden days
when we were kids
we might have been tossed out of the covered wagon on our rear
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