Long Filaments Poems
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First and foremost on the agenda,
would be to locate an affordable,
casual and favorable eatery
tubby agreeable to our taste
indubitable choice without
(any formal dress code),
nor further haste.
Strait away to the great weigh
(or if vegetarian – whey)
station of delectable food
where the exquisite, expertise, and exotic
high steak king a claim on Michelin Guide,
Gayot Guide/Gault Millau, American
Automobile Association, Forbes
Travel Guide reputation good.
Testimony to legendary praise
explaining why patrons travel
for countless days
transforming him/her
into steady state,
where he/she shuffles along
in a dishabille quotidian famished daze
far and wide culinary craze
out of this world wide web, the wispy Lyft
wafts trace steamy filament up braise
our noses,
whereat heads nod affirmation i.e. ayes.
Even before making a glad entrance
(into Restaurant) complete
a host of fresh, enticing,
and delicious aromas serve as a treat.
Delicate, foreign, hefty indescribable
ole factory stimulants delight
infiltrating thru swinging kitchen doors
holding us smell bound,
though thin filaments invisibly light.
Visionary third eyed spied;
Baby blue cream lavender skies;
Cool fluffy wind sails clouds;
Birds in trees shout, praise God;
Speaking language to Elohim;
I fell blessed, nature’s voices;
Enlightening me, gives me hope;
And hope in…Hoping at least best, I find my rest;
Glazing at the skies, brightly shines;
Daylight man can’t fly without jets or planes;
Blindly I smell the crisps atmosphere dons;
White filaments cotton wood candy puffs;
Brilliants so shines the white silver yellow sun;
Birds in trees shout, praise God His love-such;
Baby blue cream lavender skies;
Cool fluffy wind sails clouds;
Birds in trees shout, praise God cause-;
Visionary third eyed spied aloud;
Glazing at the skies, brightly shines brightest plains;
Daylight man can’t fly without jets or planes;
NATURE’S CRIES OUT TO GOD AMIDTS BLUE WHITE SKIES
2/13/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2024©
The filaments of verbal expression of my father’s feelings
permanently persisted inarticulate between us,
accrued from considerate concern my father cultivated
throughout my growing years distraught in disarray.
He never said aloud what he thought, but just his look
spreading on me like the touch of his caring hands
assured me his silence was not mere negligence,
but a language of inherent interest in my future.
With passing years I learned to understand his silence
when in the eloquent stillness of his earnest eyes
I saw his demolished dreams quietly revive
to carve a garden path for me he couldn’t walk.
Hope was a beacon he always kept flashing for me,
ensuring to light up the course of my life in dark times.
Reassured, I took the journey to reach where I’m today.
Seeing what I’ve achieved I hope he’d be happy in heaven.
Being a father now I realize the essence of fatherly aspiration
is to become happily obsolete at the edge of time
when the son doesn’t need his protection any more.
The father’s silence then turns into profound peace.
As I walk the last mile, down the memory lane
I see across the sands of time fading in the twilight zone
his fossil footprints sculpted beside mine.
I yearn to hold his invisible hand to take me where he is now.
The noise of the day
has subsided and folded
into a quiet
under the soft covers
of a July evening.
The eyes seem to resist
the particular and instead
focus on nothing
but the sum - the glow
from shore lights
smudged on water,
the dark sky powdered
with translucent clouds
and the faint filaments
of stars strung out overhead.
Tonight, I don't want
the granular detail of things
to steal my attention
but to enjoy the blending,
the stand back meld
of colors, of each stroke,
forming a picture transcending
its parts. I want to feel
the evening being
put together
into a boundless whole,
to be beyond
the smallness of myself
and be absorbed totally
into the mystery
of the composition
Walking on sunlight, spongy and soft like the grass
sauntering on the moon, blue cushioned bounces of joy
stepping on stars, silver bursts of happiness all around
flying with eagles, notorious wings of power and thrust
climbing an oak, filaments of wood on your tongue
entering soil, we feel like we are mulched like flowers
if paper airplanes float on water as well as sail ships
then why do we need a solid stern
take the slow ride home and loose your earth power
it will surprise you what is real and what is not
you will find that what is not is actually there
and what is real, can always be forgot...
The last trailing tendril filaments
of moon beams nocturnally trace
fashion an illusory gilded chariot Ark,
whence upon celestial runners,
the approach of dawn's early light
illuminated terrestrial space
which nebulous solar city flanges
revisited since time millennial
hubbub of human race
nsync with Zodiacal constellations,
which appear to shift
as planet Earth axis place
alternated in accordance with
inexplicable universal teenage
mutant Ninja turtles joint pact
with power rangers assumption
sans quotidian playstation remotely
controlled by aliens upon
oblate spheroid figurative stage
set whence commencement nudged
village people foment quiet riot rage
and rant against
uncontrollable catastrophic frenzy,
when cosmic creator
rehearses another page
from playbook, which
color coded cobbled Bible
emanates with radiant hues
of yellow and osage
nonetheless, no mortal adept to predict
(only within plus and/or minus
some marginal variance of error).
oft times punishing atmospheric phenomena
incarcerated, pistol whipped
(if anther incorrect),
whiplash unleashed, oppressed, imposed
challenging condition testing ground
flora and fauna could thrive,
whereat most hardy
plants and animals didst abound
linkedin upon terra firmae
murmur of orchestrated
organisms devising fitting
evolutionary survival traits
plentiful glory vis a vis L'Chaim;
gnome hatter outlook required
sprinting thru uber vanguard,
where zero sum game pitted
disadvantaged Feng shui
living things poorly sparred mismatched
against itching attired egghead,
kickstarting netzero beastie boys
indeed emulating hotmail prodigies
holding greensward ground.
scrimmage fostered, elicited,
dictated, commandeered nature
going full throttle with pings
across biological labyrinth
positioning glommed, peeved,
mis tweeted seeds of life, and white lily,
within soil lent green grubby business
whereby herb and woody stemmed
recalcitrant proto flings
wrote toe rooter bakers
gave Gaia a run for her money
to buy Buffalo wings
chasing miscreants nimbly
outwitting, out-rigging
outsmarting nettlesome stings,
and sage protuberant fungi,
released messengers where rise home
spore ports left nada mushroom,
though symbiosis wood
bark a roll a cord.
Soon after the sky had shed her liquid sorrow
When dark clouds quickly vanished
It turned immaculate, spotlessly blue.
As the cosmic hiss subsided
And the wind withdrew to its unknown hideout,
There was a hush- the hush that follows,
As the priest concludes his spirited sermon.
In that quiet, when dream and life coalesced
I saw the leaves trembling in the cold
Dragonflies performing a ballet in the air
Their wings catching glints of sunlight
Spiders moving round crystal studded webs,
Repairing the broken filaments of their gossamer
And birds from trees taking off into the sky
Enjoying a pervasive sense of peace
And my heart soaked in pure mirth
Humming the lyrics of a half forgotten song
I walked down through cobbled paths
Feeling the wetness beneath my feet,
To savor the beauty of Nature,
Newly bathed in the profuse vernal shower.
Suddenly the light blazoned,
Giving a golden glow to the leaves
And the suspended rain drops,
Glittered like sparkling gems.
Mesmerized by the beauty of the scene
There wobbled shiny silver droplets of joy
In my eyes too, struggling to be spilled out!
Resubmitted for 2022 Marathon Mile.No.15 Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Mark Toney
Placed Sixth
April.6. 2022
A Brian Strand Premier Choice Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Brian Strand
MYSTERY
The earth is young and old,
Some parts of it hot and cold,
In contrast with the N-S poles,
Earth's watchtower glitters like gold,
And the dark hours as coal,
The night breeze always cool.
So many a thing exists,
Many are beyond the knowledge of man,
Of which man cannot interpret,
The works of nature are magnificent,
Notwithstanding the times that were ancient.
The earth is young,
Life is old and young,
Can man think of these things?
Can man ponder and interpret these things?
What is the meaning of life?
How do life came to be?
What is the origin of life?
That’s a mystery,
The existence of man is something unsolved.
The apparitions of man,
Soul ,body and spirit of man,
The after life of man,
The myths of abyss and ancestral dwellings,
All are man's perception of after life. Who can tell the real fact?
The vast water bodies,
Covering most part of the earth,
The power controlling the waters,
Mountain ranges and valleys,
The sun , moon and other filaments,
Separating the night from the day, And the entire works of nature, All being a puzzle to man.
Growing up as a kid,
I was taken to an upland one day,
On beholding the wonderful sight of horizon,
I shouted, ''see where the world stops''
The man said, ''no boy that’s where our eyes can reach,there is still more after that'',
The wonders of life never ends,
And the lesson it teaches never stops.
The earth being below heaven,
The clouds covering the space and heaven,
The magnificent heaven we hear about,
Its another mystery itself, But about the supreme creator,
I what I cannot question about.
ANYABOLU IFEANYI GENTLE
A.D 2018, MAR 27
A rustling of digital leaves
in the binary breeze.
Odd fractals of ones and zeros
crash in waves of a subliminal sea.
Rotations of carbon and nanowires
collecting in my shadow.
Ghost of man-made reality
in matrices of ions.
The light of a binary universe in transit.
Coils of cool light drifting
through my Silicon Soul.
A leaf curves and descends
into decaying isotopes.
I feel the event horizon
of god’s information overload.
A rustling of skeletal circuitry
in a binary breeze.
All is not what it seems: odd filaments
of nanites and nanoseconds.
Feeling the rush of cold
in a binary breeze along subliminal seas.
Written: April 21, 2024
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
...you appeared as a cherub
In bejeweled emerald sky,
tangled atop topaz pearl tributary
in a sweeping shape,
of a serene watershed
splendidly shimmering.
Yet you've ever been a devil
wrapped with pristine wavy lines.
I sculpted you on a pedestal
soaring across stratosphere,
whilst, wondrous waves worked
below the surface
Gazing at the cerulean sky, you peer
rhapsodic ripples, rakish zest
blurred your tenets
scattered in seraphic scale
across your upper forehead
nestled in a hypnotic kaleidoscope
your smile speaks volumes
I can decipher your essence, truly
Your melodic voice graced my dreams
scrolling in slithering sapidity
a haunting realm
I have faith in celestial beings
or Fiends
festooned fed fringes for
failing shoreline
we fetched filthy fetter
flimsy fiddling filaments fused
a scrumptiously septic salient salve
I decry I'd dubbed devotion as lethal.
Worse, you still
believe in your celestial.
Whilst, fire swallows your whole core.
You always have
dazzling beams meet your gaze
but tonight, they are blazing with
A jolt of endorphins, exuberant and alive.
Can you fathom the sight?
Glow clings cavort consciousness
a foreboding omen
or perhaps a haphazard boon
hinges on hugeness
Cimmerian gloom blooms in your gaze.
Oh, the proximity to epiphany!