Knifes out pointed at us,
Surrounded
Spears out,
To hunt us down,
Build your pyre,
Light the fire,
Screams.
You hold your knife at me,
But I’m not your meal,
You just needed fresh meat.
A silver spoon or a knife
They are both made out of metal
One showed strife
The other one disguise as a skettle
The edges are sharp, the wounds are real
But they don’t hurt as much as feeling unlovable
“I’ll do anything for you “ is all i want to hear
It got me doing the unthinkable
I would rather feel delusional
Appreciating cracked moments
Than turning Emotional
Waiting for love from the ones that see it optional
Maybe the touch of knifes make me sore
But deep inside, we're wanting more
A touch, a word, a glimpse of grace
A fleeting moment, a soft embrace.
They stitch their whispers into my skin,
tight seams of blame, unraveling me.
I wear their questions like a second body,
heavy with the shape of accusation.
What were you wearing? (A name I did not choose.)
where were you standing? (On the fault line of his wants.)
why didn't you run? (My ribs were a locked door,
and fear turned the key in my throat.)
Their eyes, sharp as needles, thread me through-
patchwork girl, quilted in doubt.
My silence is a crime, my voice an
inconvenience.
I flinch beneath the weight of their words.
They tell me I carry ghosts in my mouth,
that my story is a wound best left unopened.
But I am tired of swallowing knifes
and pretending I am not bleeding.
So I let the truth spill ink on white sheets,
staining everything they wanted to keep clean.
The story of dory
And the story of John
Could be glory
Could be wrong
Dory was a Gent at heart
Dorian was the birth mark
John preferred the Dory part
As was his name from start
A younger brother with might
John enjoyed a good fight
Dory had no choice in life
As his brothers fire reignites
Sat in constant silence
In denial of the violence
Seeking the vengeance
Of a brothers pretence
To the viewer looking in
There was no sin
No bullying of the sibling
Feelings was kept within
But poor old Dory
Was more than a story
A tale as gory
To make the devils glory
A knifes sharp look
Sharper than a serpants tooth
No more playing by the book
Dory looks to end the snook
Waiting for the right time
To end his eternal prime
Lifting up his knife
Here's to you and life
Claret filled the room
With no time to gloom
The blade spun with a zoom
As Dory fell to his doom
A story of brothers grim
A story of feelings within
A story of lifes sin
A story we need to bring
So the masses will see
People hide their grief
From judging thieves
Who steals from realities
Lost my Nestlé café machine., Black box made
creamy coffee..Quite a dream,
Lost my favorite coffee cups , want to scream.,
Lost my green Puer tea,what's become of me?
Lost my Puer chocolate brown glazed teapots,
Lost my coffee machine ,
Lost my steel electric wok ,
Lost all my clothing,
Lost my mini black .tower computer .Battery died again. So it was thrown out.,
Lost books on math,logic and deep ecology,
Lost the book Galdrabok,
Lost my ritual knifes,gut turning and strife,
Poetry has saved and equalized my life,
Lost all my CD's,
Lost my 4 CD radio player,
Lost my flat,live in a nursering home where am I at?
Lost the ability to walk.
Isn't it weird, how things change,
Everything seems the same but when u look back it's all a bit strange,
and all i want right now, is a simple exchange,
my life in exchange for the life I had when i was a kid which was more in place,
Isn't it weird, how fast the time move,
and how within seconds people can be removed,
removed from our life's that makes us feel like we are stabbed in the heart with a couple of knifes,
and people say these are the lessons in life that makes us wise,
But what if I don't want to be wise,
but a kid who actually likes their life,
Isn't it weird, how we humans are,
filled with so many emotions but yet we feel like nothing,
surrounded by ton of words but yet can't describe exactly what we feel,
So many thoughts but yet nothing comes out,
how brain is the one to decide but yet we cling on to the heart to make a choice.
Little ones gone
house gone
husband gone
life gone
dreams discarded
they tell me run along
I leave my homeland with a song
one day
I may be old
I will come back to die
with my family buried long ago
never forgotten
one day, there will be a dance
to tell this story
of slaughter, knifes and thieves
What is happening to our youth of today
Taking knifes and guns with them when going out to play.
Standing on street corners faces hidden by a hood
Drinking alcohol taking drugs and up to no good
But there are a lot of children who live a normal life
But how safe are our children from a killer with a knife
So parents be vigilant and help them to survive.
And with luck when they go out the will stay alive.
Pupils trace the movements
Of the Dancers fluid turns
From where they sit untouched
Since Creator joined concern
The head rests ever quiet
Awaiting measured hands
Grant features to the sunset sky
As Creator fails to stand
Unspoken words wait on lines
Of abandoned notebook page
Knifes do dull, pencils sharpens
Yet Creator locks the cage
Corpses strewn across the room
Blue blood of time stains teeth
Gruesome grin meets tired eyes
Kill Creator in their sleep.
As we walk on the knifes edge of life not wanting to fall into
The depth of despair.
We no longer look forward but we are concerned about the past and other people's lives.
We walk in straight lines while being nudged and pushed
From above the side and behind.
But only we can falter by our own choices and what we as humans control.
The path we walk is very narrow and not straight with curves
And bends.
Sometimes you have to go back to go forward.
So continue on with the knowledge that you will eventually
Arrive at your destination.
dripping
from his
book of poems
bleeding red petals
from too many
crumpled roses
he thought he never
found his love
morning sun
stretches
through his window
pounds the face
of the Peloncillos
early birds
from
empty trees
reach out
while a parade of
sighs
knifes down the road
he tried not to
write her into
his stitched-up
Frankenstein
heart
poor baby
another
crumpled rose
bleeding
from his book of poems
I'm in a paper bag
And nothing inside
WITH me but plasticware
Where the plastic forks and knifes and spoons
NEEDED to eat the unprepared fake food
In unsettled in my bowels
I'VE digested impurity
That smell awful and foul
Fraudulent passes erupt stinks fumigation
I've eroded the stench stomach 3rd of man-made substance
Eaten rotting food churned
Digested home grown human supper
Rotten delectable
Yum???
HUNGRY for SOMETHING ELSE
1/31/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2o23
the river that never lets you drown
oh cry baby save me your tears
oh cry baby tell me your fears
i will chew them up and spit them out
so please tell me what it’s all about
i’m leaving my heart out on the table raw
i’ll decompose as she thaw
you can pin it up on your board for darts
and hurl your knifes at my moving parts
oh cry baby cry me a river and drown
i’ll put on my finest gown
my face inflates words fight their their way out of my mouth
and all my humanity goes down south
cry baby is gonna cry all she wants
and she is gonna have to deal with our taunts
cry baby’s words don’t mean a thing
cry baby’s sobs start to sound like a sing
cry baby look at the scene
the woods the flowers, you’re our cry baby queen
over there is a river full of tears but you will not drown
crystallized electrolytes make your crown
poor baby don’t cry
i never meant to make you want to die
we put glitter bandages over your heart
so we can start this process from the start
"the knifes are out to get her, she's always speaking with a forked tongue"
Darkness and light merged into one,
Nothing seems right yet nothing is wrong.
A beautiful sunrise, a brand new day.
The buildings in-front are all bombed away.
The beginning is far, the end is near,
Every body lives in fear.
Today is gone and tomorrow isn’t coming,
Someone catch the knifes we’re throwing.
The children are lying dead in the street,
The guns are looking for fresh, new meat.
Close the curtains, no time for guilt,
Setting fire to houses, watching them melt.
The waves of life are all crashing down,
Lifeless bodies all around.
Why the need for all the violence?
We need a voice to break the silence.
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