Long Endeavored Poems
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I do not like to see my face floating
At the foot of a ewer,
nor in drops of water, nor in the glassy eye
of a slaughtered goat.
I am beautiful, but water and cloudless gems
distort, they are torturers of disfigurement.
Since I saw my reflected beauty
I have been unable to mirror that perfection.
I have ardently endeavored
to emblazon the beacon of that first time,
when I, suffused in beams of crystalline air,
beheld my countenance clear
yet now I am caught, caulked, and diked
forever dogged by a stark magicking
from ever parading that delicate radiance,
that inaugural art of my gift,
my exquisite features.
Yet ever my mind’s eye returns
to that translucent and timeless time
that empyreal morn, so fine and fair
where I beheld what I thought was there
and believed upon it.
Upon this scene of anguish, I abide no hope.
As yet, the dreary, silent, silent!
For on the eve’ of my existence.
Blood spilling... no resistance!
Duty called rendering my presence.
Tis' fidelity dwelling amid raw courage.
I felt the enemy’s arrows endeavored to discourage;
Death a most certain intolerable insistence!
Alone slumped; streams of blood runs thick!
Powerless to arouse an earthly perspective;
Subsequently set upon the narrative of my life.
By chance and the shifting sand reliving the past!
The aftermath reveals trepidation of uncertainty
My virtues, my failing, my unpleasing reflections.
Countless miles strewn with impetuosity of my youth.
Departing from this world, yet hardly saw my best of days!
My ardent spirit hopelessly unable to alter life’s course;
Unable to forgive my follies on this deadly path!
My aching heart pleading to be set free!
The soldier laid to rest!
I gave up years ago
I just never quit.
Y’know, as in stopped
Being who I am.
I had an early revelation
That not everyone would like me
When I realized that I didn’t like everybody.
Thus, I endeavored to solve the dilemma
By just being me with all of them
It worked, well….a little anyway
As some who didn’t like me
Began to like me
That forever “equal and opposite” rule
Evened things out.
I believe I am a funny guy
Alas, not all agree with this assessment
Some say that I go too far
Others hope I never return
As I said “I gave up years ago”
But I never quit.
Y’know…blowing bubbles in my chocolate milk
Licking my ice cream bowl
Building things with my mashed potatoes
Splashing in rainy day puddles
It’s really hard to stay in touch
With those you rarely see
And though you like them very much,
There is no guarantee
Connections won’t be severed;
Often life gets in the way.
The efforts you’ve endeavored
Sometimes don’t hold any sway.
For distance adds a wrinkle
When it’s multiplied by time
And add to that a sprinkle
Of the mountains you must climb.
When you calculate the factors
It’s a miracle, for sure,
When the Book of Life’s redactors
Somehow manage to secure
Just a quick and breezy meeting
With a friendship from the past
And, although it may be fleeting,
Happy thoughts will likely last.
When you start with a foundation,
Even one from long ago,
It makes sense that its duration
Will survive the ebb and flow.
Like an earthquake that strikes far off the ocean SHORE,
Turning into a tsunami and creating havoc with a mighty ROAR.
Every effort is endeavored to keep our inward storm out to sea;
So deep inside our silent zone, beneath the reach of a casual SEARCH;
Well HIDDEN from the FORBIDDEN, hoping none will get close enough
to TOUCH. Out of sight; out of mind; never heard; not open for visitation
very MUCH. Distancing becomes our FRIEND, and few if any are ever let IN.
But it's there, and there it shall be; that is, the fact of its brutal experience.
Very colorful and beautifully designed MASKS have been CAST to disguise.
A comfort zone has been found in QUARANTINE and it dares not to make a SCENE. But the results and 'the hurt of it' need not REMAIN nor forever cause us PAIN.
Like computer data, it is stored in the BRAIN but need not be RETAINED as the SAME. We talk much of 'garbage in and garbage out', but the 'outgo' can be CHANGED. We are human beings made in God's image from the very START, and we are also the delight of His loving HEART. He has provided the ability and the right to be released from those binding CHAINS. Sometimes we feel that the last flight has taken off, or we have missed our TRAIN. Next TIME you visit that WOUND, not just someday but SOON, try to change at least one LINE that appears to be sealed and to be written in stone as if forever settled and
guarded from anyone who would even dare. It's that LINE that says, "My TIME has passed; I'm in DECLINE; I am finished; my best days are BEHIND". I beg of you to revisit that line, and it won't take LONG to prove yourself WRONG. Inside of you and me, there lies a door whose hinges may well be rusty and wearing old. But through that door, even if reluctantly, we must ENTER, and from which, after confronting our enemy head on, we will exit a WINNER.
030521PS
I was endeavored;
Espoused and married;
But alas now I'm widowed;
And I'm physically alone;
I told my Father;
I worship you alone;
As He's tells me I am alone but not alone;
Hevenly Father Grant Me Another So That I Can Worship You Alone--
At the time of my wife death
This is how I felt
Grieving for 2 years
Mourning so many tears;
Now that the pain settled;
And my heart's mellow;
And I'm physically alone;
Hevenly Father Grant Me Another So That I Can Worship You Alone--
And now that she is gone;
I've asked my Father for another;
And if I am worthy;
Maybe some one will;
Become my new instill;
For it's better to wed, than burn;
Given unto me please Lord another wife;
So that I may finish my life;
Given unto me please Lord another wife;
And as both of us together a new wife and I together;
I need to share me and another with the Lord;
As then together you and I can worship you (God) alone;
Her and I together shall worship you alone;
Heavenly Father Grant Me Another So That I Can Worship You Alone--
1/1/19
written by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019 ©
from the anthology "For the Joy of the Lord"
Reflections on the Loss of Vision
by Michael R. Burch
The sparrow that cries from the shelter of an ancient oak tree and the squirrels
that dash in delight through the treetops as the first snow glistens and swirls,
remind me so much of my childhood and how the world seemed to me then,
that it seems if I tried
and just closed my eyes,
I could once again be nine or ten.
The rabbits that hide in the bushes where the snowflakes collect as they fall,
hunch there, I know, in the concealing snow, yet now I can't see them at all.
For time slowly weakened my vision; while the patterns seem almost as clear,
some things that I saw
when I was a boy,
are lost to me now in my advancing years.
The chipmunk who seeks out his burrow and the geese now preparing to leave
are there as they were, and yet they are not; and though it seems childish to grieve,
who would condemn a blind man for bemoaning the vision he lost?
Well, in a small way,
through the passage of days,
I have learned some of his loss.
For, as a young boy I endeavored to see things most adults could not—
the camouflaged nests of the hoot owls, the woodpecker’s favorite spots.
But now I no longer can find them, nor understand how I once could,
and it seems such a waste
of those far-sighted days,
to end up near blind in this wood.
Keywords/Tags: reflections, loss, vision, visionary, child, childhood, eyesight, perspective, perceptiveness, acuity, age, aging, cataracts, blindness, time, days, years, decades, near-sighted, far-sighted
Life is all about choices we make
Mother Nature bestows its award
Upon souls who endeavored and scored
Them who act to extend one’s bloodline
Those making the choice wise 'n fine
Mother whispers to no human ear
Doesn’t care if straight you’re or q-eer
Wouldn’t judge you on height or IQ
Eyes or skin of yours color or hue
You define what occurs to your kin
In a toss, it’s a loss or a win
Nature chains events as they come
Join the rush with obscure outcome
Procreation is intricate lace
It applies to the whole human race
Those women and men finding love
Bear kids, with Mom’s blessing, above
Better chances with looks and the brain
Mother offers payoff if you’re sane
Good behavior matters a lot
It defines how tight be the knot
Don’t reject future partners whole
That conduct loudly speaks of a-hole
Girls, no fear upon tribe of men
Curse them not as they come to you when
Swipe 'em left, every man is annoyance
Ah, delusion, disdain and flamboyance
While setting the plank way too high
For a "marriage material" guy
It’s “me too”, pent-up anger and zeal
Men sense danger that’s terribly real
Babes can put you away, a long time
Finding love mustn’t be treated as crime
Do away with dividing doctrine
Feminism belongs in latrine
Independent and rich, but alone
There’s no passing of perfect genome
Nature-mom shall cast smile upon you
For an ace from the deck that you drew
Have good life to enjoy, not survive
And may line of yours grow and thrive
June 8, 2025
Average Wasn’t Good Enough
Miracle Man
4/27/2024
If life were simple everyone would excel.
Before I could make others believe in me,
I had to exhibit a belief in myself,
and God given ability.
I realized to be good at something
would require putting in the work,
while being persistent.
Just average wouldn’t get the job done,
because cream always rises to the top.
I always endeavored to do more
than I thought was expected of me.
A few people will grow the Roses,
while multitudes will just smell them.
Give me the man/woman with burning desire,
and you can have the most talented one.
Tom
One magical night I endeavored to reach that beautiful blue moon that
Neptune was so enamored with. 6.7 arcminutes, as I moved closer in
Electromagnetic energies drove me to the archway of the heavens
Mesmerized by its incandescent light, I was transported to another realm
Acoustic sounds of Angel voices, pulsing lights and Celestial vibrations
Gradient falls of earthly flowers vanished from my view as I rose up,
Imbued by a nocturnal aria I lost myself inside a moonflower's bloom
Caressed by serendipity each shiny stars was a windfall of Grace
Neptune lanterns of even glow hung off a crescent moon. Oh what joy to
Immaculate my soul with all its pristine hues of blue. She shone bright as a
God of eternal messianic love, she was the key to every planet's open door
Hallelujah hales of sweet rejoice. I was bathed in a crown of light, at the
Tailwind of midnight, a rocking motion from that magical blue moon.
June 28, 2022