Long Billion Poems
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Imagine, for this night, you are the queen of Fairy Tale land.
I, too, am a prince, from Make-Believe kingdom.
From beyond our cocooned proximity,
the night shimmers in and thickens to a silken thread of moonlight
that the crone will soon spindle into her never-ending story
of billion constellations, both seen and unseen
by naked, desperate novas.
We, entwined, like the roots under a rabid rainforest,
pale as innocence, battering feverishly against the stones for ever afters,
seize Avalon, and reject Camelot.
The canopy of fireflies synchronises in raw euphoria,
a rebel Excalibur.
The wind matures around us.
Tomorrow may be an inevitable notion,
but my queen of Fairy Tale land,
my sword, shield, bow, toothbrush, unicorn,
a worn-out copy of The Arabian Nights,
all lay bare before your lion throne.
This world was once a crevice between fire and ice.
Fire and ice run in our veins,
from me to you and back into the realm of drunken fairies,
where the bumblebee heart of the day
is yet to ignite the pomegranate sky.
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Date: 17 / 02 / 2016
I think I get it:
You want me to swallow your acidic avalanche.
Those billion frantic snow globes
of brilliant-clownish confusion.
You want me to rebuild your burned-out shrines.
Atop broken blue glacial climbs.
Straddle boulders of swaybacked hope and jagged stones of regret.
You wish me to inhale the barbs of shadows
and the velocity of your death.
You want me to embrace the fire of your ID.
With paper arms and gasoline fingertips,
lasso your run-away mind.
Make a bouquet of roses from a wall of
rock and ice.
I know you'll get this:
I can't embrace your avalanche,
while I'm digging out from beneath mine.
The chancy countdown clock of my mortality
is ticking toward some unknown preset alarm.
I’m aware of every taciturn tick tock
in unrecoverable moments spent waiting
for something to happen…
and I do not wait well.
I wait for stiff slices of tanned toast to pop up.
I wait for the microwave’s proclamatory ping.
I wait for endless dreary drizzle to stop.
I wait for supplemental shoes to drop.
I wait for stern scarlet stoplights to glow green.
I wait for stalled responses to emailed queries.
I wait for weighty debts to be repaid.
I wait for market losses to regain.
I wait for unsure recovery from illness.
I wait for a time and place of serene stillness.
I wait to watch news that makes me feel happy…
instead of sadly numb from unrelenting horror.
I wait for a time when love and peace…
are not hammered by hate and violence.
I wait for our warming forests to stop catching fire.
I wait for AI to prove its promise rather than peril.
I wait for a clogged Congress to civilly meet in the middle.
I wait for common sense and facts to regain a following.
I wait for a time when cynicism concedes to optimism.
I wait for the long dark night of our collective souls to end.
I wait for the culmination of all things, large and small.
I wait for a time when all our waiting concludes.
I wait for anticipatory hope of Advent and Eschaton
to authentically, faithfully, finally, feel real to me.
But I’m mired in my own limited perception.
I need another perspective for waiting well.
I recall my life spans just an eye-blink slice
within deep, astronomical, cosmic time.
From the Big Bang to the Bethlehem star
over thirteen billion years passed by,
a very long Advent time indeed.
God must be very good at waiting.
(First published in Valiant Scribe Literary Journal (Issue V, Winter 2024) 46-47. See also my poems “Star of Wondering” and “Bringing Heaven to Earth.”)
With awe I gaze the stars
joined by Jupiter, moon and mars,
amongst a billion flickering lights
and the Milky Way, Oh so bright!
But we are but a mode of dust
to quote Carl Sagan, as I must,
suspended in a sunbeam
going nowhere as it seems.
Distant planets I see in their past
because light travels so fast,
a million years might pass us by
for so many planets to die.
And so the fact is cast,
by observing planets in their past
distant planets might also view Earth
maybe as it was during our birth.
A distant planet could be viewing us
a thousand years ago, because
the light takes so long travel
our past they could unravel.
Therefore, the universe itself
could be a time machine, what else
that no matter where you are in space
you’ll view a past in every different place.
Brick houses gone, wood houses gone
Family histories blown away
No photos or proof of life
2.8 billion dollars worth of damage
Devastation for a mile.
One house standing, with debris
Covering every inch of her yard.
2008 Chevy in oak tree,
Electric lines dangerously torn
Silence after the roar of what sounded
like a train, but must have been the
Two hundred and eighty-one mile an hour winds.
Tornado on a scale we cannot comprehend
No one creeping out of houses
For almost no one was there when it hit.
If they had been, they are gone now.
People creeping back hours later
Shocked, horrified, grief-stricken
Not for loss of life, which did happen,
But for life of soul-things.
Photographs, decorations, spoons, and forks,
Family heirlooms, favorite purple boots,
Grandma’s gold chain, lost forever, a lifetime of memories lost,
most never recovered, destroyed, or dumped in rivers.
May 22, 2011, Joplin Missouri’s most catastrophic EF-5 tornado
The city comes together about a week later
Interlopers from other cities come,
Pouring in with help, food, water, clothes
Things a family needs to get back on their feet
The love shown to Joplin was fierce and fast.
Tears flowed unexpectedly, and selfishness
Was felt by those who did not feel
“grateful” like they were supposed to feel.
Many felt despondent, devastated, depressed.
They were immobile, some never fully recovering
While in the back of their minds many were
Silently grateful, thanking God for being spared.
Life is so short
But you wear trousers a blazer and a tie
You make money and drive by
Watch the news you are sad some random people died
You are still too important to die
You have a dream to keep you alive
And god to count you more breaths than time
Because those that died didn't have your tie
4 billion years ago the world was made
not even a fraction ago and man was made
And now the world is a man made drain
The beauty and the pain
Global warming and a mattress
But still you cannot cure death
Through the generations alive
Billions have cried then died
To the future we all are dead
To your children they mourn at your grave
A skull on a flag a cemetery on a map
The beauty of death made art
I know its not normal to think about death
But death is normal even in perfect health
The truism that we all gonna die
And every birthday a countdown to the grave
Second by minute by inch till it's six feet under their feet
It is sad to watch the world go by
Celebrating life just to forget we are dead
In a thousand years your life wont mean much
But thank God you got kids and the kids got kids
Because as long man still exists
We achieve a species dream
To die for man to keep living
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After Alice almost forgot her exhilarating experience
in the dream of her visit to the wonderland,
her imaginative mind drove her often outdoors onto
the open expanse of the undulating landscape
that rolled before her dreamy eyes with animated fantasy.
One night as she was spell-bound,
gazing at the star-crowned sky,
she felt she flew beyond the galaxy
and fell into a wormhole where
she travelled faster than light
from one point to another disparate point
in the space-time continuum.
The survival struggle thrust her
into the abysmal warren,
capturing intrepidly her fading frame
in the fleeting flow of the flexible time.
The disarrayed pieces of her mind were thrown
into the debris of dismal confusion,
she was unable to escape from the chasm,
even if she arduously attempted ad infinitum.
She lost the concept of the present
as she traveled time to the cosmic distant past,
witnessed the glare of the Big Bang
and the birth of the billion suns of the milky way.
A far away dwarf star pulled her then
across the curved space of vacuity
to the future where she saw the Big Crunch,
shrinking the universe
into a singular God particle.
Traveling mystified in the tunnel of time
through the wormhole,
as her psychic alcove merged with spatial infinity
she was sucked into a black hole
that bent her self-control
and deformed her perception of time.
While she was losing mesmerized
the sense of her entity into nothingness,
and started to gravitate toward the point of no return,
she came out once again from the trance of fantasy.
AM I NOT THE ONLY ONE SAVED
I am not the only one;
There are
millions and millions and millions
Some say 3 billion souls
AM I NOT THE ONLY ONE SAVED
Roaming, standing on this here ole earth;
And some of them have died;
And some of them have past on;
Why? while the rest of us have cried;
I am not the only one;
AM I NOT THE ONLY ONE SAVED
Choices made;
Wrong ones done;
Slow to repentance;
Now their gone;
But some of them have repented;
Accepted God's unmerited grace;
There are
now saved so many souls gone from the grave;
Roaming, standing on this here in heaven;
Help me Lord, today
Help them all Lord God, I pray;
AM I NOT THE ONLY ONE SAVED
3/3/06
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.© 2006, 2018
Robot Monologue 27
Hello! Is anybody there? No?
According to the papers found today
And rusting rubble everywhere
Time apparently had passed
The world abruptly ended
People and machines like me did not survive
The past is now what passed forever
Apparently I've been off line awhile
In my storage box a mile underground
For months, most likely years
It’s just not clear when I came back to life
I can’t remember or it does not compute
Obliteration is not something to forget
I’m sure there is no cure or fix
There’s nothing left to do but walk in solitude
When the earth comes back to life again
A billion years from now
With man, machines and other oddities
To blow themselves to pieces
I’ll do it all again
Walk the world alone until it ends
Or go down with them like I’m supposed to
Like I was built to
Eight years ago this day February 8 2016 I came forth
My name is LeiNah Williams
Yes, Ms. LeiNah Williams
Pronounced Lena’ like in Horn
Yea! And I sing and play the violin
My name is Ms. LeiNah Williams
Non nowhere so familiars
Worth more than billion
I be one of God’s Children
In His army, yet a civilian
LeiNah Williams’s brilliance
In mine resilience
Got mine rhythms
From my daddy (and Michael Jackson)
Definitions, divisions, harmonies decisions
I am my own girl position
Yaw! Say my name right cuz me got big guns
What’s my name, Say mine name?
Birthday today
My name is LeiNah Williams
Yes, Ms. LeiNah Williams
Pronounced Lena’ like in Horn
Yea! And I sing and play the violin
My name is Ms. LeiNah Williams
Hey! Hey! Hey! Happy Birthday to me
First Grand Daughter of James Edward Lee
2/7/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2024©