Long Shamefully Poems
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he has a torn jacket
and a cane that steadies his walk
he doesn’t have much to say
and no one listens when he talks
shamefully seeking the right woman
throughout his life
a woman he found once in a while
but never a wife
nobody knows him
even around his small town
he always sits by the window
as the rain comes down
never being quoted
or saying something worth hearing
and often as he dreams
his eyes start tearing
he just sits quietly
in his wooden home
along with his days
all the forest has grown
no one wants his advice
after all these years
and through his doorway
no one ever appears
“That’s a very sad thing to be nothing”
another old man once said
along with waking up in the morning
alone in your bed
only the sun, moon
and the stars are his friends
and alone he walks into
the darkness at his end
colicky shadows
sad mimes
time wanders
lover's treasured ballad
a circuitous serenade
melody familiar
rolls
echoing
irretrievable lyrics that stay
conscious
and your absence
this present offers
stony pillows
nights
upon days
an uncompelled heart
following
a paper plane's pathetic
trajectory
wakerife emptiness
most indebted
shamefully to dissatisfaction
knives that cut thick
and the unbearable balm of wounded cellos
Jealousy is a ball and chain
worn by those who always complain
Blah, blah, blah in echoed refrain
With such disdain With such disdain
What does this person hope to gain?
One like this will never hold reign
When pessimism is their bane
Shamefully vain Shamefully vain
Something's off-kilter in the brain
Perhaps they drank too much champagne
Have a noodled mind of chow Mein
They can't be sane They can't be sane
This phobic one must feel the strain
Lack of love fills a heart with pain
With pretense they righteously feign
Harsh words, inane Harsh words, inane
She said, if I correctly recall,
That, for her, a sustaining love is an
Absolute prerequisite for what
Would be a total commitment of the
Coupling bodies...and all that
Constitutes the essential parts of the
Eternal Soul;
And I not so assuredly competent
In this - the practice of such a higher
Art!
Adding, some little time later, that
Being so chained, in what she described
As an unfortunate consequence of a
Most regrettable thrall,
To a domineering Harlequin who,
When mindlessly exercising the upper
Whip hand, had neither modest restraint
Or any amount of unimpassioned
Self-control,
Was, in fact, just a flagrant excuse
For a base lust;
Of course this was not to be confused
With the laudable and gallant actions
Conceived within the inner workings
Of a steadfast and more openly honest
Heart.
And was I convinced that I was indeed
Sincere in all my avowed pledges?
And did I truly understand that all her
Troubled life she had tirelessly
Searched for one such as I purported
To, somehow, seemingly be?
How I instantly can bring to mind
Those obscure and doubting mutterings...
Still carrying upon an ill wind I
Should not wonder;
I think of them like the songs of the
Naiads: what woefully remaining
Sounding endlessly above the glassy
Tinkling of a mystical lakeside's
Stiffened and shuffling Sedges;
You a modern-day Danae, infant Perseus
Clutched to your swollen breast, your
Little box, in all its abject
Loneliness, now set adrift upon some
Desolate and open sea.
What turned out, in the end, to be a
Pointless charade. Perhaps; but that
Which, despite shortening periods, whilst
Enduring felt almost timeless.
Then of course this shared guilt...
That will, shamefully I fear,
Forever bind us.
I can feel your beauty flow
I can touch the essence of your smile
while all the while. . .
Though I can't see you, I can feel you
I can hear you whisper in my ear
So clear
Oh I can
Oh Lord I can
and I shall, I can love you Lord much
with each and every breathe, Oh I can
I can sense that you're here
Even though I can't see you, I can feel you
Lord, I love you, I love you so much
I can think of pleasant dreams
You are always here
You're closer than my skin
I await you to come even closer nearer my Lord
Oh I can
Oh Lord I can
and I shall, I can love you Lord much
with each and every breathe, Oh I can
I can sense that you're here
Even though I can't see you once again
The fragrance of yourself leaves me breathless
I am not shamefully not to be embarrassed to say that I do
I love you
I can feel your smile
And I know that I'm your child
I'll never let you go, because this you already know
That I won't go away I'm here to stay
And I do that I love you Lord Jesus I really do
I love you
Lord I love you and I await your touch;
Yes I love you this much (cause I can and I shall)
Oh I can
Oh Lord I can
and I shall, I can love you Lord much
with each and every breathe, Oh I can
08/16/07
written by James Edward Lee Sr.
from anthology " The Love We Have Inside"
Mary Teresa Bojaxhiu had a surreal journey through life,
inspired by a vision.
She left her home in the rural countryside
of Albania and went to Calcutta, India,
a place lost to time.
The established traditions of the people
included ones of casts, servitude, and privilege.
She witnessed wanton cruelty
and bigotry openly displayed.
Among the crowds, she saw starving children,
untouchables, with bloated bellies begging for food
as scorn and laughter mocked their pleas.
And she made it her mission in life
to help as many of India’s poor as she could.
She was appalled that another’s pain could trigger
such barbaric behavior.
Fear forces a self-imposed silence
that unwittingly enables bigots and bullies.
So, we look the other way and shamefully walk away.
We have little love for strangers,
even though Jesus asked us to
love thy neighbor as thyself.
Most humans are a selfish lot,
chasing the almighty dollar no matter the cost.
Most, perhaps, but not all, have severed their souls
from their hearts; there are still a few tethered to both;
the ones we call Saints.
Mother Teresa was one, firmly anchored to her soul,
she held her ground until the day she died;
choosing not to walk away.
In old Jerusalem near cross and sepulcher
Transgressors and confessors searching for a cure
Weary Pilgrims assembled in this place ornate
Guilty, broken, sad, sickened, from life’s heavy weight
Here we remember how our sin once did molest
How selfish deeds and hateful thoughts God does detest
Yet for us sinners Christ in love performed His grace
His sacrificial work makes this a holy place
Somewhere near here religion organized deceit
They drug him to the pavement to make his end complete
Somewhere near here truth was twisted, justice denied
Somewhere near here, misinformed, crucified they cried
Somewhere near here with cruel whip his back was beat
Somewhere near here Rome drove nails in Christ’ hands and feet
Somewhere near here the savior wore thorns for a crown
Somewhere near here the savior’s blood trickled down
Somewhere near here they punctured a sword in his side
Somewhere near here for our sin our blessed savior died
Somewhere near here, hanging shamefully on a cross
Jesus was sacrificed to restore human loss
Here listening to vile words the crowd did sputter
An announcement of forgiveness he did utter
Here on these grounds the lamb without blemish or flaw
Orchestrated the salvation the Father foresaw
The execution done His body was removed
The task was now completed, the Father approved
In a tomb near here his slaughtered corpse was encased
Still, dead, and buried, His accomplishments erased
For three days in the dark of the earth he did lay
While the Sabbath left His friends to mourn in dismay
But on the third day, somewhere near here, before dawn
There came a rumble and He awoke without yawn
Somewhere near here before the daylights detection
Breath was restored in mighty resurrection
The women and the disciples saw him near here
Then to more than five-hundred he dared to appear
I’m quite impressed with these walls and decorations
But they provoke neither joy nor celebration
For I’m on a journey to see the saviors face
And perhaps that’s the lesson of this wondrous place
For nails, nor cross, rocks, or cave can keep Jesus still
Resurrected our savior moves around at will
He will not be confined to places around here
But where ever we go our living Lord is near.
I can't let go
No matter what I do...what I do, boo
Want you to know
I'm no better than you...better than you
I can't go on
Look up at the sun
Your mirror-like voice haunts me remarkably
Your universe eyes want more to see, you see?
Wait,
I can go on
With or without you,
Abiding by my side oh so true
Wait,
I can move on
If only you knew…
How strong and bold I grew
I can't be free
No matter how much I want to, I want to, baby…
Need you to blow
Your blessed breeze my way, my way...you know?
I can't go on
Look up at the sun
Your mirror-like voice haunts me remarkably
Your universe eyes want more to see, you see?
Wait,
I can go on
With or without you,
Abiding by my side oh so true
Wait,
I can move on
If only you knew…
How strong and bold I grew
I look out my window silently, but thoughtfully
The Arizona sky passes me by and it isn't shy
I touch the windowpane painfully, shamefully
The California wind keeps blowing and don't know why
I can't go on
Look up at the sun
Your mirror-like voice haunts me remarkably
Your universe eyes want more to see, you see?
Wait,
I can go on
With or without you,
Abiding by my side oh so true
Wait,
I can move on
If only you knew…
How strong and bold I grew
I can go on
Yes, I will be like His son
I can go on
Eventually, this grief be gone
For 24 minutes he spoke to his country on the anniversary of the CDC declaring the pandemic. Not one lie did he tell as President Biden announced that finally Americans would receive financial help that so many have needed long before now. At odds with that relief, not one Republican voted 'yes,' shamefully following the Trumpean creed.
Americans suffered
while the right shuffled their feet
Biden signed the bill
His empathy was obvious; his messages delivered with clarity and hope. Not once did he pat his own back or denounce the right for turning theirs on much needed relief. Humility is something the presidency has lacked since 2016, but now it's back. Hypocrites who've sneered and called him names will be very happy to cash the checks. He's giving his countrymen a light in this time of darkness. There's a man in the White House that loves his country. A masked man that I'm proud to call, Mr. President.
a man of honor
ridiculed and vilified
by misguided dupes
On the plain of oblivion, where dreams lose their color under the leaden sky,
Our country stretches like a canvas of memories unraveling in the wind,
Here, where politicians are the shadows of extinguished times, without echo,
We have witnessed a theater of the absurd, with thieves dressed as saints,
Minds bright only in the selling of illusions, while dignity withered away,
Deputies who traded their words for the gold of smuggled dreams,
And in the grand hall of history, we shamefully failed the test of maturity,
Under Europe's cold gaze, we were just a land of scoundrels, a whisper among shouts,
Neither the enemy's armies nor their fierce cannons brought us down,
For the disease that gnaws at us comes from the depths of our weary souls,
A silent epidemic of moral meningitis that has taken our luster and hope.
In the silence of the night, when the moon casts its gaze over our desolate fields,
I feel how the heart of the country beats faintly, like an echo in an abandoned cathedral,
We collapsed not under the weight of our enemies, but under the burden of our own betrayals,
For this disease is unseen, yet it consumes us from within, a cancer of the spirit,
And yet, among the ruins of lost dreams, there still flickers a flame,
A longing for rebirth, for cleansing, to find the path back to light, to ourselves,
In the midst of this epidemic of forgetfulness, to find the strength to rise,
To heal from the shadows of the past, to rediscover who we truly are,
For under this leaden sky, there is still the hope of a new dawn,
A silent call to regain our dignity, to rise from the ashes,
To be more than a minor country, to become a tale of courage and light.