Long Reassurances Poems
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What do you need right now?
I feel like I would enjoy a long retreat
from human voices,
a free to reverse
get out of jail vacation
from inside voices,
especially my own.
Who would keep you entertained?
Who would you listen to
with affection,
passion,
curiosity,
interest,
engagement,
immersion,
amusement,
without hearing human voices,
including your own?
Maybe I would learn to speak in squirrel scold
and nutty chatter,
in buzzing bee,
whining predative mosquito searching,
warning rattler,
purring and hissing cat,
stoned silly river sibilant
sad satiated sensory sunset
moon rise advent of enlightening mystery
surf breathing ocean, inhaling and slow shushing out
demented and delighted dreamscapes,
hawk warnings
mourning dove reassurances
Earth's undisputing stillness
still partially well
Blessing ridiculous ravens
cawing out for each other,
"Here we brazenly are, together;"
never having heard of blackbird pie,
unthinkably naive,
unspeakable joy of togathering flight
without tomorrow's forbidding consequences,
breathing in remembered fight
to outward reimagined flight.
"Random Acts of Kindness"
you send the devil
his reassurances
of forgiveness
through love
the blindness
corresponded
some generous
catharsis
in a moment
of delusion
the sticky web
nullified
words sent
words received
morse code
S.O.S.
S.O.S.
S.O.S.
beats
the pierced heart
the invisible bleed
next level love
the shining haze
bars raised
backhand played
fast on the court
roll called
the masked ball
those present
all masked
the flying monkeys
love-all;
two devils
abscond with all
that matters most
what follows
is not
what we are
taught
kindness,
a random act
a walk
to George’s Heights
the sun shines
not a cloud in sight
blue sky adorns
release,
never arrives
easily,
there is always
the cost, when
the morning star
is torn and falls
grounded
Home
homeless,
lost
a reason for everything
the purpose a mystery
that too, the loss
random acts of kindness
the cost,
the loss
two sides
of a coin
tossed
gravity,
pulls in
anchored words
the heart interred
the card reversed
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
"no more
will my green sea
go turn
a deeper blue"
I sweat, my body wet full why am I so hot?
No fear
In hell, dancers moanings reeking anguish tears, why is it so hot?
Motivational motive positive reassurances, my choice too late now I rot;
Dapper Danny disturbances, whose looking good now, why is it so hot?
Lucifer laughs, another soul he implies;
Where is your salvation now?
Was your choice?
To choose this course, you refused the righteousness
you choose to refuse, even with your knee bowed
you even confess that Jesus is Lord, yet...
Where is your salvation now?
Was your choice?
my choice too late now I rot;
whose looking good now, why is it so hot?
eternal damnation
written by James Edward Lee Sr. ©2019
If you believe professional athletes
should punch their Free Speech Rights out
when they punch in their employment clock,
Why is it fair
to also believe
you have not twittered out your violent
and racist
and sexist
Free NonViolent Speech Rights
when you laid hands on
and pledged your crossed-finger heart
to Presidential FakePatriotic AntiAllegiance
to One First Native MultiCulturing Nation,
for which it stands
under God,
not so much idolatrously and supremely above?
With growing equity, not supremacy,
and WinWin cooperative liberty,
not competitive WinLose violent
and ballistic
restricted TopSecret mega-loyalty corporations,
and for ecojustice of, from, and for All
Species
and climates
and cooperative health care giving and receiving
ecopolitical reassurances
patriotic for ecojustice
inter-network nationed
Sacred Earth,
Headed toward polycultural-endorsing Free NonViolent Speech Outcomes
and away from MonoCulturing Twitters
cheerleading Mindless Speech
as AntiAmerican Outputs,
Indulged and over-invested in too-Yanged ballistic word choices,
not suitable for young non-violent ears and eyes,
as if such were super-calorie patriotic expedited delicious
flag waving
and wearing
and wrapping,
rather than anti-matriotic hearts of loyal-honorable matters
of and for healthy Earth climates,
both inside sacred Twittering
and outside polypathic healthy-wealth
ecopolitically incarnating.
You choose fake patriotism news,
but we,
both Left and Right,
permaculturally prefer
keepin' it realtime jazzy gospel,
Sacred Matriotic Revolutionary Rhythm
and Timeless Blues.
Patriotism is about commitment
to freedom
and justice
and equity
and mercy
and love
and compassion
and justice,
and not at all about feeling bullied to act in ways
that could only betray the integrity of your commitments
to freedom
and justice
and equity
and mercy
and love
and compassion
and peace
and justice for and with All Earthlings,
singing and dancing our best rhythms
as yet timeless blues.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Romans 13:8 “…Pay your debts as they come due. However, one debt you can never finish paying is the debt of love that you owe each other.
the mailbox, stuffed~
mortgage payments, car loans
with balances and deadlines
marked in red.
water, gas, and electric bills~
the hungry phantoms of
creature comforts
coldly due.
we chase the spectral zero balance,
dream of that stamped envelope
with the sweet release of
paid in full.
but the other statement
never arrives~
no perforated tear line,
no due date circled in red.
it’s a debt, unlisted, un-itemized,
it haunts no credit score,
demands no late fees~
a debt we’ll always carry.
this bill arrives not monthly
but daily~in every heartbeat,
every hunch that kindness calls
beyond oneself.
this debt, this sweet, persistent owing
is paid in tears dried on a loving sleeve,
with burdens carried, with forgiveness offered,
and in whispered reassurances.
this debt’s non-ending, compounds with kindness~
the interest paid daily—not in coin
but in soulful connection
and ego transcendence.
"Love in the Time of Uncertainty"
Like the tide of the ocean
coming and going
with its calm seductive
hushed reassurances and
vociferous remonstrations
dragging me towards the undertow
I have placed my trust in lovers
that come and go like holidays
short spent longing for depth and length,
I burn them and begin again
considering all their ardent lamentations
best to put a sea wall up and
walk along the edge considering
all the fins that swim
I throw pearls at them
to wear around their thorny necks
sea rope and weeds I wear like the dead,
sea urchins and sirens going off in my head
Love rises from hiatus again like the Sun
when all the dying has now begun
The Heart is a sea shell
sold by the sea shore
placed now against my ear
a treasure chest warm and beating
from a shipwreck
becries its glorious tales
I hear its distant humming
a song it sings to me across
the waves of absence,
another’s longing,
I drink it all in
a tonic for an old Life to die
a new journey to begin
I am as green as absynthe
drugged in delusions and disillusionment,
now darkest dark blue in form
with shades of deepest grey as a tempest
in a cloudy hot mess reading tea leaves
in a cup turned upside down
as above so below
is this how it is done?
Are there such things as
romantic prophecies,
I am lost in reading all the other ruins and
chariots storming fallen tarot towers
gambling on right and left bowers
jokers and their tricks, Queen's Slippers badly fit
card houses built with straw clowns and broken sticks
questions are asked of the
mystic glamour mysteries
Love in the Time of Uncertainty
Peace in the Time of Uncertainty
Wind in my sails sends me out into
The Ocean again ...
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
"Everything Else has Gone Wrong" / Bombay Bicycle Club
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C92lUB3SAzE
Lyrics:
https://genius.com/Bombay-bicycle-club-everything-else-has-gone-wrong-lyrics
I find myself reflecting on many things I have long forgotten,
including the invaluable wisdom imparted by my elders.
Yet the memories of the pain inflicted by others remain vivid
as I navigate the complexities of friendships and past betrayals.
I have also released numerous reassurances that were extended to me.
"You can trust me," they often proclaimed.
I try to overlook the fact that a large breadfruit serves as a meal
for my siblings and me, while our dog receives only a small portion.
My weary mind strives to preserve my memories.
the faces of familiar individuals gradually fade from my recollection.
The promises and falsehoods from our leaders linger lightly in my thoughts,
drifting like a feather in the breeze. I sneeze—particles of brain cells.
Today I chose to take it easy; I wish Metal AI could decipher this as well.
She gets up each morning, her limbs heavy, her body reluctant to follow the commands of her mind. She moves through the motions because that’s what she’s supposed to do. Get up, eat, go through the day, and pretend like everything is fine. It’s a mask she wears so well that even she sometimes forgets it’s there. She smiles when she’s supposed to, answers when asked, and shuts out the parts of herself that are too broken to show. The rest of the world doesn’t need to know that she’s not okay. No one would understand anyway. Her friends, if she can even call them that, don’t ask about her anymore. They don’t notice the tiredness in her voice, the hollowness in her words. They’re too wrapped up in their own dramas, their own lives. She doesn’t blame them. Maybe it’s easier to pretend she’s fine. They wouldn’t get it even if she did speak up. No one would ever get it. In the hushed moments, when no one’s looking, when her mind is free to wander, the loneliness seeps in. It’s louder than anything else, more rackety than the ache in her body, louder than the stillness that fills the space between her and her parents. She wonders if she’ll ever find someone who sees her, really sees her, beyond the shell she’s built around herself. Someone who’ll listen to her unspoken words, who’ll catch the subtle cracks in her smile and offer more than empty reassurances. She knows that’s just a fantasy. She knows because she’s been let down too many times to hope for anything else. Hope has a way of turning into disappointment, and disappointment has a way of hardening the heart. She learned that lesson early, and it sticks with her now, every day.
Sometimes veins play hide and seek
When blood draws are required
And nurses who can nail one down
Deserve to be admired.
My daughter’s veins are tiny
Though the rest of her is not.
Unfortunately, doctors need
Her bloodwork quite a lot.
Today two experts, though quite nice,
Just couldn’t find a vein.
They poked and prodded, trying hard
To not cause any pain.
At last my daughter’d had enough;
Attempts came to a halt,
With lots of reassurances
That she was not at fault.
Our bodies on the outside
Don’t allow the slightest glance
Of what lurks beneath the skin
Which we discover just by chance.
All I ask of you
is to let me go.
You have not wronged me.
Perhaps it is simply that
I cannot survive being known.
I do not want anyone,
and I do not want you.
I know this will hurt you.
Honesty is often mistaken for cruelty -
still, I mean every word.
It is not safe out here.
I do not want you.
I do not want any of them.
I do not want your violence
or your torment.
The lies.
The cries.
The life I disguise.
The love you withhold,
and the hurt you devise.
And you, my love -
more than anything,
I cannot let you see me.
I fear it is already too late.
Why can you not let me go?
Why do you keep returning?
I do not want you to know my anguish.
I do not want it
to know you.
I do not want conversation,
or comfort,
or concern.
I do not want your reassurances.
I do not want your pretending.
I do not want your anger.
I do not want your sorrow.
I do not even want your happiness.
Perhaps that condemns me.
Perhaps it is selfish.
For that,
I am sorry.
I am afraid.
I do not run because I hate you.
I am afraid.
It is not safe out here.
I was never meant for this world.
Look at me.
Look how faithfully
I follow what harms me.
So for my final act of love,
I will leave.
Do not follow me farther.
Do not mistake my distance
for a plea to be saved.
Go.
And do not return.
If there is any mercy left in me,
it is the hope
that my disappearance
might spare you
from becoming lost beside me.
Go, now.
Run while you still can.