Long By the way Poems
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Eternal buzz of voices, heard by the wind
Stilling the music of yesterday,
Reassuring the soul has a friend
Breathless music of hers and his, in amazing
Stories, poetry and senses, embracing
Kissing away the melancholic wounds, feelings
Dazed by the night who is no substitute
Inspiring colors, in whispers of light
Softly flow from yesterday throughout paradise,
Rising in blending wishes for grace and ghostlike
Psalms, blessings remembered by the fall,
When wind feels like a promise of what is meant
By gentle and honest, gratitude’s permission
To erase the past with its heavy grasp,
Warming by the fires of wonder found when
One heart discovers the meaning of a kiss…
Is it the river of feelings, flowing, knowing
That wind through the spirit,
Awakening the music of a passion, sensations
Alluring, assuring, enthusiastic as trust
Washing the heart in grace, and feeding the feelings
Like faith who is absorbed by the way
Hearts heal when God’s love stills the spirit,
Resting His calm, like a clear pool of unforgettable,
To the tune of eternal truth, easing away the shadows,
Filling the soul with sincerity, serenity, silence
In peace, two wishes find the music that sees
Through the darkness to the destiny,
Believe, just believe, and receive what God brings
When He sends His ultimate beautiful, His music
In the seeds of lasting wonder, a muse
The feelings who grow and continue on, forever
Wiping away the tears and the fears,
All the past’s melancholy and bitterness
With light that frees the spirit,
Considers what has been and leaves a watermark
Of what it means to be free… free at last,
Because, in God’s grasp, there comes a true freedom…
Free as the wind and the sea,
Free as the music that resonates
With a feeling that can only be stirred
By two who know, with God at the center
This wonder will continue on… forever and ever,
Love that causes the wind to vibrate, to babble
The words of a love song, a fire burning
Like the promise of everlasting – free as the knowing
Love knew, all along, love knew the song
Freeing those who simply blow their kisses
In rhythms of praise, just praise, praise the One
Who brings love it’s light, brings hope its sight,
Brings faith its everlasting fight…
Sing the song, it’s a love song – God is strong
God will sing along, because God’s love is never wrong!
{This "Free Verse" entry Received HONORABLE MENTIONS
IN THE Intergenerational Poetry to Bridge the Generation
Contest UNO Elders & Youth track" 2017
UNIVERSITY OF OMAHA
OMAHA, NEBRASKA}
(I was the only male entry in contest)
October 15, 2017
I'm A Teen This is What I Struggle With
I’m a teenager I’m upset depressed
Being so,
I’m A teen this is what I struggle with
And I ain’t gonna call you mam or sir
That’s in the history books nobody does that anymore
I represent 30 percent of us that are one or been bullied
All adults want to do is make us study
I close to being grown you don’t understand
I know as much or more than a woman or man
I’m A teen this is what I struggle with
I am tired of always being diss
I ‘m a teen this is what I struggle with
Feel like I’m imprisoned, these are our teen issues
I have a right it’s my body part selective if I selective
It’s my life if I choose to be sexually active
My life complicated I’m not the only one you used drugs smoke pot now what
Back in your day
Getting drunk the past month I also say
My life, my right again you did that too by the way
I’m A teen this is what I struggle with
I am tired of always being diss
My message is I’m not heard, I’m hurt
I eat the wrongs things I get big obese some of us throw up
You can call it stayin thin being bulimic
Can’t get no education, don’t have patients for them
They can’t teach or tell me nothing gonna drop of school
Maybe I’ll join the Army
Where are the grownups when I have my problems peer pressure?
They don’t have an answer for them
I’m A teen this is what I struggle with
I am tired of always being diss
The sexting, hot man what a body, But when I get older that picture still out there
Don’t have to be beaten up physically now it’s done electronically, on social media
Just when I think I can control my life and mind
On screen violence TV shows, movies and violence video games
Keep me wake for weeks and days
I am tired of always being diss
I’m A teen this is what I struggle with
09/26/17
written by James Edward Lee Sr.
for Intergenerational Poetry To Bridge Generations Elders & Youth 2017 Contest
My phone died this week.
I’ve ordered a new one—
I’d like to say I’ve enjoyed the silence,
just lo-fi music playing, slipping into a flow state.
But I’d be lying.
Only a handful of friends to tell.
Enough to register
the tragedy of going off-grid
like it’s 1503—
where I imagine
I’d be decent
at throwing logs on a fire,
but useless at hunting.
No survival instinct.
I get sentimental when it gets quiet.
It's surprising
that this is how I finally understand
what Black Mirror really meant.
Slick glass, dark and dead,
reflecting back:
smeared rectangle
of myself
slack-jawed, staring.
Neither of us blinking—
only one of us
alive,
allegedly.
I’d had that phone
since before the pandemic.
It held more than my cache:
its shape, my memory—
my hand
aches
for its frictionless drag,
but I had to get a replacement.
I picked the same model,
not out of loyalty,
just me hoping
it would backfill the imprint
of its ancestor.
I'm not too proud
to admit
I miss the constancy,
companionship,
the fugue-state afternoons
given over to scrolling.
I’ve been more alone than I expected.
And lonelier still,
realizing
how much of me
was never here to begin with.
It's a disorienting false north,
this gatherlessness; I'm still sitting with it.
By the way, it's untrue news
that tech is soulless—
it's been up
at least one mortal ever since
my husband powered it on for me,
a gift,
ersatz affection
in response to a lack of discretion
he'd only recently admitted.
And get this: apparently, I cry now.
Despite half a life of spent
convincing myself
I’d therapized it out—
that tears were just poorly timed
girlish things I'd evicted
due to their silencing effect.
I was wrong,
they were only hiding in the attic—
turns out all this noise was just insulation
from every soft place.
Evenings with him feel longer.
He’s older, closer
to death than me. He’d hate that I said it.
I won’t tell him. We’ve learned
to steer clear of each other’s art.
No rules about who we kill
on the page.
Best to leave it that way.
I wonder if we'll go back to old habits.
I think I already know answer.
This screenless space hasn’t been clarifying—
just absence,
with no metaphor to cushion it.
At the risk of repeating myself,
I do know this:
I miss her, Distraction—
What Makes A True Friend?
What are the qualities that a friend should
have – that which would make a true friend so true?
A friend is one whom you like to be with
while a true friend insists on being with you.
A friend likes you when you have so much in
common. True friends like you who for who you are.
True friends make you feel as though they are at
all times near, although they are very far.
A true friend is one whom you can always
talk to, even at night when it is late -
when loved ones are asleep, a true friend is
always there to hear what you have to say.
Friends like to share, but a true friend always
gives you – not what you want, but what you need.
The feelings you hide, as well as your thoughts,
and your dreams, a true friend can always read.
A friend may forgive you or they may not
forgive, for something wrong you've done to them.
A true friend forgives even when you don't
ask. True friends forgive - again and again.
Friends are close when you are close to them. A
true friend wants your friendship to be closer.
A true friend does what is best for you, and
hates that you would end up with the losers.
A true friend teaches you lessons to help
you grow – lessons that are hard and easy.
A true friend is always there - having a
true friend can never make you feel lonely.
Friends may sometimes make mistakes, but a true
friend is always careful not to hurt you.
A true friend is a guide and a teacher.
A true friend knows everything you go through.
The true friend I mention is our God,
who kept you company before you were born.
The friendship of God, if you truly keep
and cherish, you will never feel forlorn.
The true friend we all need is God (Allah) –
the One who guides and can teach us lessons,
the One who hears our calls and understands,
the One always near – in every season –
Allah, as a Friend, never judges us
by the way we look and how we appear.
Allah, as a Guide, if we ask Him for
guidance, He guides us and makes our paths clear.
Allah is with us – each day and each night –
He is always there when all are asleep.
Allah always listens when others don't.
He gives you comfort when He sees you weep.
Fortunate are those who have Allah as
a Friend. Friendship with God is friendship true.
May Allah bless me with His Friendship and
May Allah's Friendship be shared with you too.
Ameen. Allah knows best.
Miriam / Mariam Mababaya
...She spoke to him in friendly tones,
dropped him DMs and made it known
that she’d like to meet up some time,
a pleasant evening they could find.
She even said she was sorry
for mocking him so easily,
that she regret her wild youth,
(she couldn’t say it wasn’t truth!)
To her surprise, the man set yes,
Carmena nearly lost her breath
when she met him at the bistro,
into a handsome man he’d grown.
The date was such a real delight,
they talked for hours, until night,
as if they had been friends for years,
Oliver belied all her fears.
He wasn’t dull, at least not now,
that was the gift that age allowed,
to be free of youthful passions,
to see a man, learn to know him.
And though she swore she would hold back,
that night, at her place, she attacked
this man and led him to the bead,
they tossed and tumbled, then rested.
She awoke to see him standing,
picked up his clothes, stared dressing,
she said, “Come on, it’s a weekend,
come back to bed, let’s go again.”
Oliver just gave her a small smirk,
said, “Yeah, I don’t think that will work.
Fun as this was, it’s over see,
in truth, you’re kind of old for me…”
She looked up, shocked, not getting why
such words were coming from this guy,
he laughed again, and said, “I must
thank you first, for the both of us.
“I wasn’t hunting trim last night,
but alas, it somehow felt right
to bang the chick who shattered me,
and taught me how a man should be.
“You see, back then, I was quite dull,
respecting the ladies in full,
and what did that get me? Nothing.
Girls like bad boys, no denying.
“They crave men who treat them like sh-t,
that Chad ******* just displayed it,
you’d chose him over guys like me?
I make six figures, it’s lunacy!
“But hey, without you I’d have not
learned their tricks and got what they got.
the bad-boy game’s not hard to play,
and I get sex most every day.
“Just act strong, play the alpha game,
they’ll come running and give up strange,
no need for weddings or divorce,
and I don’t loose my shirt in court.
“So I guess this circle is done,
by the way, you had no protection…
I’ll see you ’round, Carmena dear,
but I don’t think I’ll come back here.”
With that he just sauntered away,
Carmena cried for the whole day,
and wished that her whole life would burn
for what she’d taught, and what she’d learned.
Inside each of us, three entities exist.
It has nothing to do with having a tryst.
There’s a triangle consisting of the I, the YOU
And the SELF. By the way, I’m sure this is true!
The I and the YOU within, each live in its own house.
Sometimes they want to live together but don’t know how.
The I has boarded its windows and doors.
The YOU goes its own way and mostly ignores.
Then one day, who knows why? the SELF appears.
“Hey, remember me. I live here too” …And the I and YOU hear.
The YOU has sometimes dabbled with the SELF.
But the I has kept herself locked away, high on the shelf.
The SELF has awakened though and shines its light.
It can’t help it. That’s how it's made. There is no night.
The light eventually peeps through a crack in the wall.
Warming the I fast asleep on her shelf in the hall.
There’s no way now for the I to hide from the YOU.
The SELF has exposed her existence. Did I say? I’m sure this is true!
Now the YOU is curious about his neighbor, the I.
She’s quite beautiful; and after all, they both live inside.
So the YOU knocks on her door even though it is boarded.
The I has done her best to keep her energy hoarded.
But the SELF, without fail, continues to shine its light.
And the YOU keeps knocking on her door. What a fright!
She buries her head under a thick comforter,
But the SELF and the YOU are relentless. They just won’t let her.
She gives up finally and removes all the boards.
Unlatching the chains too, she cracks open the door.
One thing’s for sure, she won’t let the YOU inside.
She tentatively steps onto the porch. The I can no longer hide.
I now declares to YOU that she enjoys his company.
But she can’t let him in until she turns I into ME.
For you see, the I has been asleep for a long time in the dark.
She must now discover herself in the light. Find her own spark.
The reason the I went to sleep in the first place you see
Is because the YOU took her over and wouldn’t allow her to be.
All the while I and YOU are learning about themselves.
The SELF just continues to shine its bright light on their shelves.
It’s in no hurry. Its light won’t burn out. It can wait till they become present.
For the SELF is the Super Energy Light Field that is their essence.
By the way, I don’t remember; but maybe you do.
Did I say? I’m sure this is true!
Watching the Olympics news
coverage today
Sadly this is the conclusion
i came to afterwards
Our British male duo won gold
in the synchronized diving event
Brilliant yes of course an
unbelievable achievent
But given more than any other
sport the clue being in the name
It should be equal appreciation
and praise for each as without
the other winning is simply
an impossibility
So how come then i know who
Tom Daley is but don't even know
his diving partner's name
Maybe that's because he was
made to appear or seem
totally irrelevant by the media
news coverage
After the pair won they cut to
Tom Daleys family his mother
husband and their baby
Then we see Tom being
interviewed , Tom singular
on his own fielding questions
mostly regarding his personal
life and sexual preference
And thanking the LGBT
community for all there support
Exactly what that has to do
with diving i hold my hands
up i do not know admittedly
i am no expert on the subject
But personally for me what
i found was the real kick in
the teeth smack in the face
As i for 1 absolutely love and
breathe sport the gift the ability
the dedication the sacrifice
Was how it was constantly
infered it was only Tom's
dream since he was a young
child to win a gold medal
Again personally and only
to me what i seen goes against
the very ethos and ideology
of what the Olympics itself
stands for
I felt so sorry for him and his
family as Tom family husband
and child got more coverage
than he did
I tried to put myself
in his or his family shoes
and tried to wonder
How they must have felt having
their joy pride stolen and cheated
from them
Reduced merely to a bit part
or side show to the main event
And again i protest because
the clue is in the name
Synchronized Diving a duo
a pair a partnership a team
1 simply can not without
the aid of the other 1 win
So tell me where on earth
is the justice and sportsmanship
to be found here
And his name by the way
just incase you missed it
or care is
Matty Lee and he to also
wanted to be and win a
gold medal
And was just as dedicated
and trained just as hard in
order to achieve and make both
theirs dream a reality
Rather than as the press and
media barely refer to him as
Tom Daleys diving partner
or the other guy
His hands are small a lot like mine this I can recall, only to see no mirror upon this wall. Just look at my eyes they are not one of another, they are the eyes you left me with just like my mother. On egg shells we walked never knowing when it was ok to talk, we might say or do the wrong thing only knowing better to dodge your swing. You always said blood was thicker than water, so why did you teach us love was about hurting each other? We were your puppets and you was our master only bound to end in a tangle of disaster. You said you held the world in your hands, I wish I knew where it was that I stand.
Remember the time you said "I raised you the best I could?" Was you thinking the same thing when you were slamming my face into the car hood? Or how about the time you beat me so bad I peed my pants right where I stood? You took something from me that took 35yrs to get back don't worry dad I had to makeup for all that you lacked, while you were out busy dealing and abusing your crack! So many nights the aroma of whiskey lingered from your breath, only to awake in the morning seeing you passed out on the kitchen floor only to be half dressed. Don't you realize how that scared us to death! We were your children for gods sake, but you didn't care because you are nothing but a disgusting snake! All we ever wanted was a loving father someone we felt safe with like we did our mother. We couldn't stay in our house so we had to disguise ourselves and seek help from the shelters. So many emotions you put us through anger, fear, hate and isolation. Heck we wasn't even allowed to play, only time we did is when you were away. As I got older you would say "please stay one more shot and ill put it away". One turned into three knowing deep within me I just wanted to flee I just knew what it was going to be. Me on my knee begging to plea. Then you would say " Your nothing to me just get out and let me be!" I turned and looked at him and said "you know one day your gonna miss me!" He just replied,"I now have the one that I adore she's all I'll need forever more." Only if she knew what was bound to be as she became wife number three and by the way her name is Cherie. Year after year you put us last, don't worry dad because now YOUR just an impression of MY past. Now the tables have turned please tell me how does it feel to be the one put LAST!?
Have you ever had something happened to you that scared you out of your wits? I have. It
all began on my birthday last year. (This is not a true story, by the way.)
April 1st, 2009. 8:00PM
My mom threw a huge birthday party for me, everyone in the family was there. A few hours
after the party, my mom was invited to dinner with her new boyfriend. She was going to say
no because she didnt want to leave me alone for my birthday, but I love her too much to
have her give it up. An hour later, my mom and Ray were heading out for dinner. When they
left, I went up to my room, laid flat on my bed, and fell asleep.
10:00PM
Two hours later, I heard a crash coming from downstairs. It woke me up with a jolt going
down my spine. I grabbed my flashlight which was on my dresser, and headed down the
stairs. I checked out the living room, nothing was wrong. I checked out the hallway, nothing
was wrong. Then I walked into the kitchen. Everything seemed to be in place. Just as I
started turning out the door, I noticed somethig odd in the corner of my eye. In the knife
rack, a knife was missing. I searched around the kitchen but could not find the knife. I
ignored it and went back upstairs, back to sleep.
11:00PM
My mom came back from dinner. She screamed up to me saying, "I'm back from dinner. I'm
gonna get some sleep. Good night, and happy birthday."
12:30AM
Later that night, I heard the crash again. It sounded like it was coming from the basement.
So I grabbed my flashlight, raced downstairs. I first ran into my mom's room to make sure
she was alright. She was perfectly fine. Then I ran to the basement and looked around. A
lightbulb had fallen from the ceiling and broke on the ground. I swept it up with a broom, and
put it in the garbage can. I started to climb the stairwell once again, and there I saw it. There
was the kife sitting on the middle of the floor in a pool of blood with red footprints walking to
the closet. I picked up the knife, slowly walked to the closet. The closet was inches away
from me. I could hear a gasp of breath coming from inside. I closed my eyes, swung open
the door and stabbed away. I could feel the blade penetrating something, but what? I opened
my eyes, and realized what I had just done. Apparently, my mother was back from dinner,
and here lies her dates.
The Feather of Love:
I aired a stray feather to see it flying;
I gazed it flowing in the wind;
I loved its whitish tone;
I loved the natural print upon.
I don’t know how it managed to come back,
How it never ceases to make me taken aback!
I only marked its return,
It truly turned me on,
It made my heart adorn,
A bizarre cloak of its own.
I penned my feelings with this feather,
From the ink of my heart.
I caressed my lover with its touch,
I attached it to my dream catcher,
It is suddenly my feather wizard!
I added it to a belle’s headgear,
To make her carnival look sheer,
I loved this feather on gala days,
So, I wish its company on a sad day.
I desire its touch to console myself.
I want it to erase my tears,
If that carnival girl sheds my feather!
I gifted this feather to a tribal boy,
He added this on his necklace,
It adorned his neck with stones and beads,
It gave him a taste of skirmish.
To his tribe, feather means ornament,
Printed feather means totem’s presence,
But he wore the feather in his lover’s absence!
I attached the feather to a whore’s anklet,
She caused murmur in my heart’s Brooklet.
I loved to see the feather flow,
As she walked!
She gave me a yellow feather from her bun,
I loved her hairs flowing auburn,
She was like a new dawn,
Amid the darkness of my own.
I exchanged my feather with her,
She was my true dream catcher,
She made my heart render,
In unknown splendor!!
Now I own her yellow feather,
I will never let it wither,
From the fuliginous dusts of air.
I keep it inside my book,
I accompany it on my bed,
It’s the solo companion on my brood,
It raises ripples on my heart’s brook!!
Then, on a gloomy noon the whore returned,
Once again, ‘I’m rocked.
She discovered her lost feather,
Dangling from my dream catcher,
She immediately hugged me into a kiss,
She melted me into total bliss.
Still, she took out the yellow feather soon,
And called me a ‘goon’
As if I never deserved the feather,
As if I am lover of weather!!
When I demanded my printed feather,
She detached it from her waist-dangler,
I loved the fact, she loved my feather,
And kissed on her hair.
So, she promised to remember me as a familiar stranger,.
She’ll now give the feather to her new lover,
I’ll never let her sweet memory disappear,
By the way, returned my whitish printed feather!!