Long Rationalize Poems
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I'm a simple guy,
I like video games, music and succeeding without trying,
So when a man comes up to me and tell me he can save my life,
Who am I to turn down a free book from a generous passerby,
Strange how after hundreds of Reddit articles I find these red words the most astounding,
Each verse saturated with a truth beyond my understanding,
I embraced the scripture in my new-found belief,
Ditching skeptics and scientific contention for a biblical motif,
So with my newfangled faith I embarked on a holy endeavor,
To sift through a lifetime of personal uncertainty to uncover the answer,
I found myself under bottomless pizza boxes,
Buying time stocks from the evolutionary clock,
Discovering purpose through glimmering game discs,
Fashioning polygonal personalities into personable obelisks,
Uncovering the depths of my psyche excavating mountains of dirty laundry,
Rinse on, dry off, purging both physical filth and emotional quandaries,
Sharing walkways with speeding cars enslaved to a monetary duty I can't shirk
A journey of a thousand steps every pilgrimage to work,
My blood a bubbling brew of ambition and potential,
Yet required to surpass insurmountable credentials,
Ignoring the marked symbols in newspapers they seek to brand on my forehead,
Subjective opinions of civility and idealism dropped on me like warheads,
Cryptic predictions of personality and fate,
You think I need a dice roll to determine if I'm straight?
Countless evaluations to rationalize the psyche and soul combined,
What makes their opinion more viable than mine?
I'm taking buoyant steps upon the swamp to reach my destination,
Swapping carnality for divinity to achieve the ultimate self-preservation,
Cremating my mortality I seek to ascend,
Past primitive understanding of a purpose I cannot comprehend,
This road we walk is coated with trip-wire and paved with scorching coals,
Watch out for those flaming hours in your 5-day forecast so find the nearest foxhole,
The burden on our shoulders has already been lifted so there's no reason for us to be aching,
We're on the path to eternal salvation why aren't we skipping?
So why don't you tag along with me on this self-realization odyssey,
I can't promise explosions or tentacle-headed aliens but I know it'll at least be interesting,
Just you, yourself, me and I,
The most dynamic duo to ever breach the sky.
UPRIGHT CASCADING BEAUTY BROKEN-HEARTED
You walk on to me you pair me with your eyes startled
Dilated spectrum rationalize beautiful window your pain
Eye gate windowsill is splintered crest
The message of the view I see everest
And I realize that the glass is smudge tears fall like rain
UPRIGHT CASCADING BEAUTY BROKEN-HEARTED
But it's clear to me now love
You need agape love
As you stand before me innocent blood
I want to embrace you in your millennial space
As I hold you there's this grace
UPRIGHT CASCADING BEAUTY BROKEN-HEARTED
Empathy titans spun in dirty lace
There's no lust found nor sour icing found on your cake
These the holdings that I bear of you
Until you is heavenly sound royalty blue
The beating of your hearts rings sad on rebound
UPRIGHT CASCADING BEAUTY BROKEN-HEARTED
And there's your light lit it's not in the dark
Don't want to let go of you because this not a lark
It would be a fleeting thought
If I could pray I would pray for blessedness
Completeness because you're worthy caress
UPRIGHT CASCADING BEAUTY BROKEN-HEARTED
Far more worthy than the hurt that you express be
Healings of the broken pottery that stands before me
Feelings of empathy of the wantings the need be peace
And the spectrum of the glass I see your reflection talking
It's so fragile yet strong as a diamond back sparkling
UPRIGHT CASCADING BEAUTY BROKEN-HEARTED
You're jewel you're the Father's daughter and above
Stand so tall Queen of Israel
In awe for all so tall you walk on void materials
As you walk tall straight your head above the waters passionate fruit
Glee you strive humanity you deny for your broken vessel earthen suit
UPRIGHT CASCADING BEAUTY BROKEN-HEARTED
You bruised vessel stands so glitters
As so those clothes you wear radiant heather
Having those you're worth more than rubies and gold
So I let go of my embrace, I look into your face so cold
And as you withdraw your body In cadence
So loved you turn around and walk away
And all I can see is the beauty surreal at bay
Assured of your essence your soul walks away
Leaving me in part pupils still dilated spark
You walk away with the swollen heart
UPRIGHT CASCADING BEAUTY BROKEN-HEART
7/12/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2023
Myself I’ve never been
much of a mathematician
Algebra and stuff
didn’t add up to much
when I made the decision
to respond to you
our multi-versed
mathematical magician
Because even I know
all things aren’t equal
I don’t know what it’s like
to grow up black and poor
and to wonder why
other kids have more
and why no one looks sideways
when white kids walk into a store
It seems this world for you
uses a subtraction
and division equation
Giving people who look like me
a multiplication table
We rise to the top like cream
even when you’re more capable
Those who say
“Things have changed”
are living in a fable
or maybe they think it’s fine
because they have lots on their table
You have no reason to apologize
I see the sad in your eyes
That happens
when others try
to bring you down to size
But I sense a power
beyond the treatment they rationalize
There is scripture flowing from your pen
Telling us what your people have dealt with
over and over again
You help me conceptualize that pain
which enables me to see and realize
why some might try to bury their blues
with drugs and booze
When they think
“Nothing is going to change”
They also think
“F it I’ve got nothing to loose!”
But you you’re a word warrior
that’s not the path you choose
Rewrite it
Rethink it
Turn it into good news
Sorrows on a graph,
Death and molestations
All these sadness quotients
are not merely estimations
They defy gravity
and my limited calculations
But I can’t read your sorrow
without me acknowledging
I see your situation
And I hear your brave
heartfelt communication
While still I wonder
how you cope with this frustration
Maybe it’s the angels
That grace your constellation
The way you wrote it
and I read it
If I were your teacher
I’d give you all the credit
Besides in this case
you’re the teacher
I say hallelujah brother
your life is a prayer
keep on speaking preacher
So I ask
what can a math challenged
middle aged white dude do?
People need more than compassion
for what they’ve been through
A thought can grow exponentially
beyond me and you
Until it becomes true
Action Maximization
by the many for the few
Dedicated to Michael Ellis after reading his Poem “A Poem for My Algebra Teacher” Please read it.
Telepathic Confusion
It was a tense and passionate gaze.
It locked me in a captivating trance, drawing me in with its irresistible energy.
How could I feel the energy from over here?
Despite my initial hesitance, I found myself unable to resist the pull.
I'm shy but wide-eyed.
It got me wondering why.
Why would I suddenly feel such a pull?
It was as if my mature and composed exterior had melted away, leaving a sense of curiosity and vulnerability I hadn't felt in years.
My mind said don't be another fool.
Besides, this must be a silly phase.
I'm too old and mature.
I can't think of childish fantasies.
I would tell myself that it is impossible to feel such taboo things.
It is impossible to feel such things as accurate.
I can't even say it.
My Tongue twisted.
Even my mind tells me not to do it.
My feelings were intense; it never even made much sense.
The heart has a communication telepath.
The heart's invisible dimension leads straight to your path.
The sensation was inexplicable yet undeniably real. My heart and mind were engaged in a silent telepathic conversation, leading me down a path I never expected to explore.
I had to question if I was a true manic.
Oh wait, I'm not manic.
As much as I tried to rationalize and dismiss it, the undeniable chemistry lingered, leaving me exposed and uncertain.
I'm in a panic.
I can't believe it.
It's really happening.
It's an unrequited, weird, and daunting chemistry.
Of all the people, I'm feeling relatively weak as a dead tree.
It still has piqued my curiosity.
Despite my reservations, I knew I had to confront these unfamiliar and intense emotions with audacity and curiosity rather than. Shying away from them or pretending they didn't exist.
I'll reach out and truly see.
It was time to acknowledge and embrace this uncharted emotional territory.
I'm a fool, and I'm lying.
I could never have such audacity.
I'm timid, and I'll revoke.
I'll turn these feelings from warm to cold.
I'll act like I still don't know at all.
I'll block it out.
Chuck it up.
These are the feelings thrown at me that elevated how I viewed love.
These are the words that inspired me to put everything on pause.
(begins with part 1)
Though some say the tribal council foresaw the next event.
The disappearance of all the seers,
and as they went,
the people looked up with fear;
Finally the last one had gone,
along with the illumination of our paths.
And so, as we waited for the fires to once more dawn,
we again silently suffered from the coastal Rocks’ wrath;
But when word spread that gilded beacon lit no more,
greed overtook our brothers, as they decided on a change of plans.
They attacked us and razed our sacred lore,
building lighthouse others, these, of human hands;
Only, as mighty as it would be made,
however tall the tower,
no matter how many bricks would be laid,
it was no suitable substitute in power;
Frustrated, they then tried to rationalize and disprove the old towers greatness.
And upon hearing our moral gems, they would mock.
Calculating through their path without a real reasonable guess.
Their arrogance sunk them, as they became Rock;
And as friendly nations turned against us in a collective,
we felt the cold hand of civil unrest.
Our enemies took our people captive,
as our people did also oppress;
Many people made their own sect,
and blood was spilled by these cults.
Monuments to themselves, the leaders erect.
As foot soldiers are swept up in tumult;
Our tribe finally splintered,
and to this day the sects still track us as prey.
We are some of the last fundamentalists yet to be conquered,
which I am thankful for everytime I pray;’
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He then tensed and pierced me with heavy eyes.
I’ve seen many of my friends hunted down,
and yet I’ve never picked up a soldiers armor.
The only clothes I wear are a priests’ gown
and ritual vestments while at the altar.
Life has indeed given me the chance to make riches,
I thank the opportunity, but always decline.
I think I’ve found where my niche is,
every Sunday, preaching divine.
I could have been wild,
in my younger days.
But perhaps its good and mild,
that can see through the haze.
But everytime I see that golden spire,
I ignite inside with holy fire.
When you look at cancel culture,
and what it has become today,
you can’t help but look back and think
it didn’t use to be this way.
Free speech was once more respected,
people allowed to say their peace,
half the lefties who want us gone
once said the people should speak free!
So why is it that they do this,
what has made them seek to repress?
There’s several reasons, each worthy
of examination, redress.
The politicians are simple,
they see it as a useful tool
to rid themselves of annoying
people who think the pols are fools.
Like all the tyrants of the past
they love making souls ‘disappear,’
and any thing that helps them out
they will indulge in with great cheer.
their kind has always been this way,
The founders knew that pols were sh-t,
but they can’t use tools unless we
let the jerks get away with it.
And we know that the corporate types
just go along to get along,
fearing so much to get bad press
they don’t care if their acts are wrong.
So in bed with the government
they’ll cower and do as they’re told,
so afraid of losing money
that they don’t dare anything bold.
They think twitter is the real world,
and shrink back from shrieking harpies,
afraid that if they don’t play ball
they’ll lose out on the ESG.
Ignoring the big audience
that is waiting for them out there,
openly calling us bad names
to convince the crazies ‘they care.’
Then there’s the weak majority
who never grew out of high school,
they bit their tongue and say the words
out of fear they might not look ‘cool.’
That they would appear out-of-place
from what the news preaches to them,
fearing what other people think,
scared that they might lose all their friends.
These people don’t cancel themselves,
they just try to keep their heads down,
but when someone’s life is ruined
these types are nowhere to be found.
They do not bother to speak out
even when they think it’s wrong,
they rationalize the evil,
because in truth, they’re not that strong.
willing to give up all their rights,
then go make excuses for that,
they’re feeding the alligator
hoping that in will eat them last...
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
When you feel your heart pulsating, just imagine it with your hand opening and closing. The pumps are alive and make you feel human. Drop one finger and the beats are still there and just need a break from the outside influence. Drop another finger and see how it feels like palpitation. Drop the thumb and feel the dramatic change of the two fingers. Equate it to the heart facing major damage and needing surgery. Drop another finger and see the pulses becoming fixated onto one phalanx. The area is tight and unbearable, now drop the final finger. Can you see or hear the pulse? This is similar to the moment the heart stops pumping.
The moment of life begins as a shock. The electricity surges through the DNA inside the belly of the harbinger. It is small; however, the beginning of a life that is ordained to move into forward progression. Once the time starts to bide into the vessel of the egg, a heartbeat sounds. The beat is powerful, a life worth fighting for and incubating for three seasons. Whether the seasons be hot or cold it does not matter, for life inside the great house is relying on the harbinger and the harvest master. Without both the life would either be dead or impaired. Freedom of choice or freedom for life is controversial as only those that are physically alive decide whether life is a life. Hear the beats before you decide. Afterall, would you want the member of the staffed serpent to bring you back from the domain of Hades if you are having a beat? Yes, it can be said that the choice was not yours if you were attacked (by a fool or a known court jester), now the decision is yours to make if this is the case.
I used to be on the right, and then on the fence. Later I moved to the left until I saw the left being irresponsible and not taking accountability for anything.
The moment of life is a shock; well, the closing of the beats show the electricity dying. The warmth of life and the coldness of death come at the crossroads of choice. Rationalize it in any manner; it is still the cold shock of extermination.
Can you hear or feel the beat or are you greeted with death?
I have come to the point of decision
And I have decided in favour of love
Wisdom is not solely measured by experience
But more by capacity for it
I have glimpsed deep into history
I have sieved through its successes
...for the soundest advice I could find
Most profound I have received from the greatest achievers in its archives
I am a Student of Life
I am a Wordsmith of Optimism
And I am a Mason of the Castles of Dreams
This Trinity of Purpose for me goes hand in hand, side by side
Each benefits the other
Issue is, they set me apart from the others
Here I am, young when I should be intoxicated with the fads of modernity
Fortified with skills that are eager to pay the ordinary wages
But nay, I am not to be beleaguered
I focus ahead to perceive the greater rewards at the summation of days
For I place most value on the greatest wealth: WISDOM and HAPPINESS
I have come to the point of decision
And I have decided in favour of love
I choose to commit my heart entirely
To the work I love best
For it is this calling that shall liberate the sanctity of my humanity
The world I dwell in fathoms not a shred of my quest
For it views life through the lenses of reality
True as it may be that my work suffices not to endow me
...with common currency in these economic times
The rationale of my perception discerns far beyond this temporary mist
Let them roar their throats in laughter at my perceived stupidity
But it is their children and their children’s children that shall benefit most
...From this shelter of thoughts and dreams that for them I build
I expect no immediate remuneration for my onerous undertaking
For I rationalize it as a selfless gift to humanity
Hence I shall tap deep within to give all can give
I am determined to build this Shelter of Thoughts and Dreams
I have the basic skills hence I commit my willingness and ingenuity
The Good Gods shall present the mortar and bricks
The fear of failure has been permanently exiled from boarding my being
As my eyes are fixated on the prize
I am ready to pay the price
“ECLIPSE OF A FRIDAY’S CHILD”
Childhood nursery rhymes stick like glue
Parents provide our initial point of view
Before our vocabulary has fully matured
Enabled to recite nonsensical verse –allured
Dismayed that Little Bo-Peep had lost her sheep
Aghast at the notion of Hush—A—Baby on a tree top
Concerned that when wind blows the cradle will rock
Trying to comprehend Wee–Willie-Winkie running through the town
Up and down stairs in a nightgown?
Enjoying perceptions of diddle-diddle, a cat with a fiddle
That astonishing cow jumping over a moon
While a dish runs away with a spoon
Why would Georgie Porgy have pudding and pie
And then kissed girls to make them cry?
Besides Bo-Peep, “Mary” had a little lamb—its fleece the colour of snow
Hers she never lost—it followed her wherever she would go
I cat was asked where it had been
Astonishingly fortunate—‘to London to visit the Queen’
Nevertheless, all it did there
Was frighten mice under a chair
Those poor little kittens having sadly lost their mittens
Stern mother making them cry, informing them there would be ‘no pie!’
Looking back I often ponder, which rhymes I loved the best
Reflecting on the infatuating verses my mind still possessed--
The characters of children reflected in days of the week
Being born on a Friday I was pleased –at my peak
Monday was complimented for being fair of face
Even Tuesday was serene with their grace
Poor Wednesday and Thursday were full of woe with nowhere to go
Saturdays child – doomed to work hard for their living
While Fridays child delighted in being loving and giving
As adults now, mature in thinking and reasoning
Some of these rhymes were illogical—unforgiving
There rhyming nature successfully disguised
Hidden meanings, connotations implied to rationalize
In this world we live with greed, malicious and offensive sin
A loving and giving Friday’s child I’ll endeavour—to undertake-- to win
"YOUR'E A LITTLE KID AGAIN"--AGE 2-3
Kim van Breda—February 2013
Aha...At Last,..Bitta Bing Bitta Bang
The Figurative Nail Hit On The Hair Strand Size Head!
Though no physician,
this aging baby boomer
absolutely, intuitively, and
unequivocally sensed hair loss (mine),
at first a speculative rumor
not simply in my (ahem) head,
no matter a minimalist groomer
nevertheless, thinning follicles,
upon dawning realization, sans medical
sought relief thru good humor,
though within this balding cerebral noggin
became repulsive as if my scalp
pulled pate rendered as a tumor.
Thus an unexpectedly present surprise
when in private consultation in the guise
as out patient client (early afternoon
December 19th, 2018),
where I did fraternize
and kibitz with the medical assistant
(old enough to be my...sister),
aye did exercise
mild mannered mien mean, aye do patronize
before doctor Rudolf (dearly
reigned) Roth, a practicing
Dermatologist told me no lies
his instant karma knowledge - mainly his
thirty seven years expertise
sought to excise
a prominent non cancerous mole approximately
centered middle of back
a small patch of skin,
he needed to anesthetize
nonetheless, a reassuring persona,
yours truly did lionize
(not merely, cuz
he received a five star rating,
specialist under auspices
of Penn, Medicine)
in Radnor Pennsylvania),
his modest calm did neutralize
any uneasiness, as did his pronounced
humility earn kudos to idolize
such rarely present gentility, and
unwitting capacity did harmonize,
and maximize significance to me,
asper my thinning limp
hair logically rationalize
identified underactive thyroid gland
(hypothyroidism) tubby,
which didst legitimize
no hair brained rooted concern,
hence...less reason to catastrophize',
which for no reason I
wanted to mildly emphasize,
hence choice to apostrophize...