Long Vocalize Poems
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O’ THE SOUND OF THE TREES WALKING MY GOD IS TALKING TO ME
Dedicated to God is Speaking Ministries Janeen Brown
O’ the sound of the trees walking
My God is talking to me
O’ I speak when spoken to
I hear so that I do
All of those beautiful, voices
I am chosen and trothed
I am on loan unto you
I hear the call of nature
Elohim speaks softly
O’ the sound of the trees walking
My God is talking to me
In autumn leaves talking
Chartreuse juniper emerald sage
Flowing down the trunk
Son soul rises speaks the fall birds calling
Winds soften cries whispers why??
O’ the sound of the trees walking
My God is talking to me
I hear the call of nature
Elohim speaks softly
In my eyes reading the word of God He’s speaking
In my heart flows his music I’m breathing
In my mind spirit thoughts seemingly
All nature every part of mine anatomy
Speak Lord Speak
Recitations whisper noiselessness
Vocalize keep me wise utter
Troll inflect deliver to me
Sing your love in my heart
I hear the call of nature
Elohim speaks softly
O’ the sound of the trees walking
My God is talking to me
O’ I speak when spoken to
I hear so that I do
All of those beautiful, voices
I am chosen and trothed
I am on loan unto you
I hear the call of nature
Elohim speaks softly
O’ the sound of the trees walking
Speak Lord Speak
11/15/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2023©
Poetry Comeback
Is it possible for
the very heart of poetry to go away?
For a long time, there was only emptiness
and the words were lost to me.
The rhythmic vibrations now sing again the words
and waltz lightly across the page,
gathering emotion and feelings
and the need for self expression and release.
I still search, continually to vocalize aloud
what is pent within me
and display the joy and the hurt inside.
The heartache cries in whimpered tears
at loves lost, at age passing bye
at the world's want and need,
that innate desire to be loved again.
This is the endless search,
the wandering hope resurfacing of living once again.
In the final write
it is my poetry comeback
from the heart returning to the page.
You are a masterpiece created to inspire
& despite dire times
have continued to create music to our ears
You are a collection of years of notes composed
creating a symphony that is you in code
We need your quotes like we need air to breathe
& you are as needed in this world as the lungs
that give us breath for without you
we cannot sing
You are the G clef that leads us in the right
direction & we are 3 times stronger
with you than without
You are treble the melody & it's your voice
that lifts us higher than clouds
in the sky
We can never shy away from your greatness
for it is you that gives us life through
your everlasting song
It's hard to vocalize just how important you are
in my eyes & our lives but I continue
to give praise to the most high
We all shall sing your song throughout the
whole of our days as we are
forever in concert with you
until our demise
You are the epitome of timelessness
so, we shall dance with you
into eternity & beyond
long after the world has shed its tears
& died
Hastening t'ward the grayscale skies,
On gilded wings an angel flies.
While demons wail of their despise;
Hiss and moan, their sole reprise.
A lightning flash; the angel sighs
A rush of wind, and then she dies.
Oh, how the heavens agonize
And thunderously vocalize.
While in the mayhem devils rise
With beating drums to signalize
Their ill intent to terrorize
The broken hearts and reddened eyes
Whose cherub tears the Earth baptize.
But demon laughter amplifies
The vengeful thirst across the skies
And solemn, anguished seraph cries
The host of heaven unifies.
With swords aloft they mobilize
Their concourse as a vast sunrise
Whose flaming swords the clouds incise
And radiant light Earth pacifies.
Yet mankind fails to realize
Except the prudent and the wise
The storm is naught but a disguise,
Oh do you hear the old Magi’s
Verse for men which edifies?
Or listen to him rhapsodize
How from the light, the darkness flies
And from the rain, the sunlight dries?
Perhaps…he oversimplifies.
I'm dying inside, a silent scream,
Masked by mirth, a façade's deceitful dream.
I laugh to conceal the anguish that gnaws,
A desperate attempt to shield my crumbling laws.
No pain, no gain, they say, but oh, the toll,
A heavy heart, a weight that makes me old.
I wear a cloak of calm, a disguise so fine,
A refuge from the prying eyes that mine.
I walk this tightrope, fragile and thin,
A balancing act, lest I succumb to the spin.
Pride's a shield, a flaky armor I don,
A temporary reprieve, till the storm is gone.
But oh, the ache, the desolate night,
When shadows whisper truths, and I'm forced to confront the fight.
No one sees the cracks, the fissures deep,
Just a façade, a pretence, a soul asleep.
I'm dying inside, a slow, suffocating demise,
A prisoner of pride, afraid to vocalize.
The pain is a tempest, wild and untamed,
But who can I tell, and ask, "Am I to blame?"
In this desolate landscape, I search for a spark,
A glimmer of hope, a reason to embark.
For in the darkness, I'll find my strength,
A phoenix rising, reborn, with a new length.
Me, I never learn from teachers
Could not speak till middle school
So I learned intuition from those who don't hear
Can't vocalize at speed of thought
Graduated five credits short by my words and thought
After being misunderstood, stereotyped and judged
by a equal man who looks down on those who don't
Fit in to the mold of him and discredited message
By way of being biast to propaganda and media
thoughts.
I don't wish to offend the art
But I have held nothing but words
I was to humble to speak
I tried to hide and searched for death
But my words are not mine there sent
And until I face fate I am unable to enter the gate
I wish not credit, for this is essence above a unique
soul
I can't speak these parables
To be scrutinized by those who follow only gold
From alpha to the end
There has been the essential divinity
In all so life could grow, love laugh, sin
Spoken word is to be cherished and honored
Only if bold, not self serving, and reasonable
To all human kind.
So what makes you upstanding
Arrogance, or hand picked syllabus
Which is of no relevance in the truth you are denying
Form:
The Accidental Poet
I have come to terms with language,
dyslexia jailed then freed me
a framed sky for instance,
or the open nature of oceans for instance,
one denies the other.
He had a brain injury
a perfectly constructed man
until the fatal blow of his Muse.
Now he speaks only in poetry,
a language unbounded.
Some thought him touched
by a language that had no beginning nor end.
The man spoke direct from the Fountain,
the Wellspring.
Out God poured,
out poured the bedeviled and the saintly,
the lost and found,
seers so blinded by love
they must vocalize each sound.
An idiom that passed all understanding
yet could be grasped on the wing
an ephemeral thing, a single Mayfly
in an endless array of May blossoming.
It was a beautiful seamless moving hem
of apperception, a cloth made whole.
It was beautiful even when it was ugly.
It was the poetry of words set free.
I wondered if my own trivial dyslexic mind
could ever hope to match his artistry
and knew it never would.
You would have to take out the brain
find that breach in its convolutions
through which God speaks.
I knew this, the way a child knows
the uncharted face of its birth mother,
yet I still try to drive a wildness
through a picket fence.
Old words won’t do anymore,
the scaffolding is too overworked, it won’t hold,
the used-up must go the way of all dead things,
to the soil
where roots know the birth-pains of green.
The man talks on, the therapists shrug,
try to force his tongue into neat, prepackaged boxes
but it will not fit,
he smiles as they wipe spit from his lips,
keeps explaining God to them
but they have no understanding of poetry;
they keep begging him too slow down
but he is way ahead of them
and always will be.
They say this sense of martyrdom is disordered.
And so is the sense that this world is growing broader.
There is nothing behind the revival I had promised-
The revived connections that are a secret, there is order to it, honest!
As my thoughts become harder to understand…
My plans to be a savoir are in limbo, this light I can barely stand!
As my surroundings turn faded.
The plans I embarked on turn me more jaded.
I promise there is hope behind my distress.
I can feel, but not vocalize my progress.
As this web of connections melts.
I wish this feeling will never be unfelt.
Even as the pain resides.
I guess I will be alone as I seek this reprise!
Germany, 1964
In barracks bare of beauty
I lay restlessly in bed. Around, a rife
of lifeless characters
from some Saturday charade
sullenly invite me to their ghastly parade.
I merely pull my blanket higher up
and blatantly yell out "Shaddup!"
A spot of flesh unknown to sun itches
so I scratch. Musty curtains run
in dusty ripples on their pulleys.
The room overflows with bullies
but I turn over in my bunk
and choose to spurn,
scratching a spot that doesn't itch.
I glance up. The light bulb top is dirty.
I reach up, unscrew the bulb,
lay silent in my patch of dark
and try, vainly, to extinguish
a more persistent spark.
The air around me reeks of smoke and beer,
is heavy with the weight of discontent.
I lie still darkly fomenting
an impotent dislike
for atmospheres like this one.
I writhe upon my squeaky cot and dun
and growl like some ancient,
burly, and barbaric Hun.
Vehemently, I vocalize my intense tension
with interjections "nice people" would never mention.
The sting
Will never
Completely go away
But I smile
At the thought
Of your happiness
I hope
You kiss
her forehead
With a whispered “I love you”
Before her alarm
Stomps across the hardwood floor
I hope you
Leave a cute note for her
On the fridge
With the silly nickname
She gave you
When you first met
I hope
You
Surprise her
When that time comes
And you end up
With blue paint all over your clothes
And she cries
Standing in the doorway
As she sees her old crib in the corner
Feeling
This burst of happiness
She has never known before
Staring at the ceiling every night
Toying with the idea
Of you and forever
Falling into
The seamless
Blend of routines
Like
It was
Just meant to click
When she
Used to dramatically vocalize
How trivial love was
How unnerving
The sound
of heartbreak was
But I hope
She indulges in the knowing
Her heart is safe with you