I once saw you across the room
Scribbling letters into a journal like I am now
A hint of red hid underneath the surface
Your flannel, as usual, slightly oversized
droop past the beginning of the steel legs
but not to the ground
Music
I could not hear enticed your ears that day
I stared - unpolite I know - but words stumbled
and fell to the floor
failing to form a line of greeting
Were you well?
Was it madness that absorbed you into a world of your own?
Was it the letter filled with kisses from you lover -
which you opened days prior?
Or was it simply boredom to be alone in that room
The loneliness of trying to understand
and to be understood in return
May I be in there somewhere?
These questions made up my meals and dreams that day
and the day after
and now
To know that we were once alone in that room
But silence and loudness collide at once
Words do not always need to be loud;
they can be quiet,
kept hidden behind the outburst of a closing door,
or the hasty shutting of a window,
or the abrupt pulling away of a chair:
all of which can be called silence.
It has its own comfort zone,
at least for me now,
filled with the lingering air,
as though the air were scented with the perfumes of Arabia,
which could never sweeten Lady Macbeth’s little hand;
yet the perfume was not silent;
it carried loudness within.
Karma returns in silence.
Although the path toward heaven or hell
never remains unheard,
it is a long, hard road until the last dawn.
It is only me, myself, and my karma,
bearing every other entity within me
and negotiating with them
through my only companion: Silence.
I need to be heard in silence,
need to be nurtured in quietness,
need to perform without being noticed,
need to remain steady in my stillness.
I wish to be trapped in silence;
it might be a celestial trap,
where the trap itself is worshipped,
because it is a religion.
Shouting without reason
Burning voices that crackles
With horse wisp of a growl
In pain without dsicription
Hollow feeling of regret
Short spout of unreasoning
Stop without going
Shattering sentence
No words that describes
The pouting with snarling
Couping without balance
Grip with a fist with fury
A smile looks of a cringe
Speaking with loudness
Expression looks unsure
This anger has voice
Born in a high rise, low mind concrete prison.
Delivered gift wrapped to a predestined repetition.
Bars on doors, on windows and wrapped around my mouth.
The loudness of silence.
Unknown entities draped in faded British bulldogs holding pints and childhoods, one in each hand.
The family men gathered whetting their lips with hops, hurt and hate.
Loose Knuckles and loose lips both sink women, I mean ships.
Warm dead paving, a lifetime of chewed up, spat out offerings littering the estate like a Jackson Pollock altar.
Sacred violence.
The bikes piled up on the green, a can in the spokes, a flame, a bike missing, an R.I.P plaque on a wall.
The smell of BBQs, the feel of brick walls baked from sun and slander, the sound of beatings in the distance, the taste of stolen innocence.
Sirens and sadness - a Somers Town soundtrack, 10 blackjacks, a panda pop, and a boy who didn’t make it home. Another child who died alone.
Will I ever be happy here? Free? A story of redemption?
Escape.
Will I make it or just another obituary from the council estate.
You appeared like a cloud
in my sapphire horizons,
and I, a forlorn blossom gazed upward,
adoring your glory from below.
Although you seemed so distant -
my nature felt you so close.
Whenever charcoal shadows
stained the edges of your elements
and your burdens became
too burdensome,
you would release silent rain,
pouring in drops of sorrow, but
with soft yearning, my roots
anchored deeper into to the earth,
as my sepal absorbed all of
your torment.
At twilight you would illuminate
through moonlight, but in the
darkest hours, when storms
consumed the heavens with
loudness and striking light,
you craved for my fragrance
to calm and soothe your soul,
but even the sweetest scents fade,
and every petal learns the
slow death of withering.
Now as you drift away to horizons,
untouched, among unknown
flower gardens,
all that lingers in reflection
is the hush of smoke,
and I ponder,
if my sky will forever
remain cloudless.
???STEEZE WITHOUT GOD NA ORDINARY BREEZE???
Steeze without God, na ordinary breeze,
Stay lazy o, no hustle, just chill as you please.
Street life dey hot, but heart dey freeze,
Your pride go fall flat, like leaves from the trees.
Boys wey dey flex, but no know the divine keys,
Chasing empty dreams like ghost wey coffin squeeze. K
Steeze without God fit loud, but the loudness na tease,
Life no bi chais, but Baba God fit put am for ease.
Money fit dey one corner, but peace no dey,
Glamour for show, but pain go betray.
Dey front dey receive all the shine, but behind dey decay,
Na God be the illuminant wey fit show you way.
Chase the steeze o, but remember the clarion call,
Without God, my friend, you go fall like felele ball.
True greatness comes when we rise from the stall,
So...get steeze, but you gats get God make life stew evermore.
Omo... steeze without God na ordinary breeze,
Because na Him dey give us peace and increase.
???VICK MANUEL POETRY???
{VMP}
FORM: Rhymes
Copyright ©? 13th May 2025.
with one loud pop the electricity went out in our house
we live in an earth sheltered home and keep black blinds on windows
it was an instant cave, dark as coal and quieter than sleep
until the dogs woke up and began their loud, baleful howling
It is eerie in the dark when you live underground
And there is no light coming in; the best thing to do is sleep
Two dogs hit the bed the second I laid down
One weighs one hundred and twenty, the other weighs one hundred
We call them our pony dogs; I petted them both to console them
My husband slept through this storm, not hearing its fierce loudness
My eyes closed and I heard the dogs snoring; we were all safe.
Sleeping in a storm is the best kind of sleeping if you ask me.
A giant storm is brewing
Because the wind is howling with the sharpness of the cold
Calculating blades of the great and weak
Destroyers and defenders of oppositional forces
Encapsulating one another in a great deal that starts to die in the great
Fire which burns brightly into the night prior to the people
Gorging their bellies full of drink and food while
Having the storm outside howl with loudness and
Intense beats upon the house of the leader, who we call the
Jarl, that gathers their people in the great hall to keep them safe from the
Killing storm outside of the great house, their concern of
Love is the purest form of respect
Manifesting into something
New and not confusing as it is an
Original concept that needs no
Proper introduction because it is the only
Quick explanation for
Righteousness
Self-less service
Tactfulness and a deep
Understanding, that would shock a person in the manner of a larger
Voltage
Wishing to only become part of a unit that does not
Wallow in the misery of others as the current
X-men focus on becoming different members of the world
Zoo.
Disco Music
Strobe light looks like moon-sun.
Halo lights of red, blue, yellow, green.
He wears classic Saturday Night Fever white.
She has a white flower in her hair,
head and hips swivel;
one-strapped red dress.
He points with hands over head.
Ballroom floor bittersweet-blue.
Celebration of disco music.
I was dressed in strapless purple.
Burned my bra.
This stamp doesn’t nearly catch
the falderal - not the nasal and falsetto
of the Bee Gees, nor the confident swagger
of Tony Manero. I will survive, my motto.
The couple on this stamp look too happy,
too peppy, maybe preppy, almost ‘50’s.
I remember the crowds, the loudness,
the vulnerability, the period; that Mom
had me ask Dad for money to go.
They let me. Strobe light shadows
of chiaroscuro amidst flashy night.
The stamp is too clean cut.
if any jet ever broke the sound barrier
it must have been this jet
her loudness assaulted our silence
awakening sleeping elves and gnomes
If you wondered if my feelings are real
You need to hear my heart pounding beat
Racing like a speeding fleet
Straight to the amplifier of my heart
The loudness and throbbing ring
Completes my wants and desires within
Longing for your kiss, your touch
Bringing us closer to Neverland
As the sky touches the stars
No matter how far
I did not think their music could become one iota more annoying
I was wrong
Maybe it’s the loudness; my ears are cringing
My sensitivity is crying
Why oh why do people use pounding music in a public place?
It does not help that I am waiting for a haircut
And two people are ahead of me
Neither of them looks like they even need a haircut
While I look like the wild child of Borneo
Who put her fingers in a light socket
I love him
In way hard to describe
I love him without knowing him
His eyes are unknown to me
So is his smile
But the love is still there
I see him in others
His kindness
His shyness
His loudness
These people remind me
He's closer than he feels
As of now I can change myself
Change myself into a person
That can see the sadness
And make it go away
A person that can show another
All the beautiful things in this world
As I wait, I find myself thinking
About all the bad have done
And all the good
I think about the present and the future
That is far out of my reach
I will wait
That is what I will do
As my soul heart has a door that is closed;
Noise speaks loudness of per encapsulates;
My vessel contrite I am breathing bruise;
Broke heart open door that I may embrace;
Tears drops down my chin, my cheek, my whole face;
Breaths distorts ultimately---placated;
My arms and hands grasp holds implicated;
Opening and shutting of my heart strings;
Serrated set heart strung constipated;
As my soul heart has a door that is closed;
2/8/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. © 2024
Loyal lonesome lady listens lovely liturgical lyrics leaving loudness for God’s glorified greatness.
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