Though I love intelligence, candor is recompence
Smart is an art, but love comes from above
Kiss over compliment, neither will pay the rent
Nor inflation, adulation, inclination, or shove
Now in combination lie's true adoration
Choosing wisely should be life's aspiration
Eschew impropriety, display some sobriety
And wisely choose the better thereof
A surfeit of hens
have spilled from my pen
How to make amends
dear readers and friends
From the minarets the call to prayer resounds
Breaking the peaceful silence of the dawn
In its undulation of fervent fanatical need
And all across the world the daily call spreads
Making non-believers at least tolerant
Of the mysterious words and haunting refrain
Lulled into acceptance as by a snake charmer
Women too now rising up
In the name of liberation
Fervently fanatical in the need
To have it their way,
From conception to abortion and infanticide
To now the freedom to filicide,
Have it their way
A brave new Burger Queen world
Without compromise or sacrifice
For the only job they were born to do.
Meanwhile the minaret keeps up its call
Loudly proclaiming to the faithful
Ignorant and deluded,
And increasingly deserving,
“Make Misogyny Great Again”.
(9/13/26)
‘Little faith will bring your soul to heaven
But great faith will bring heaven to your soul’
Standing in silence
The truth speaks louder
Stepping out in the wilderness
The path of brokenness speaks louder
God will make a way
Blessings to the one that prays earnestly
The Word of God opens Up
The soul of man erupts and
His level of Faith increases.
‘Little faith will bring your soul to heaven
But great faith will bring heaven to your soul’
God will make a way.
Life is full of targets to reach
many set by ourselves, wise we think
but it turns out to be very unwise
at the end of the day, our targets sink
Sometimes we're too full of ourselves
not realising how prone we are to fall
so very often it's a case of get up again
make sure you stand on your feet very tall
It is good not to set high standards
just little ones that are one small step
ones to look back on with satisfaction
makes you feel good with a deep-down grip
These little achievements create a glow
one that puts your perspective in flight
looking from afar, seeing the real truth
of what life's about in a clearer light
So make little goals your aim
in reaching them you'll feel better
then the thousand mark isn't too far
except when the king at 100 sends your letter
Sometimes I wonder how we make it through a single day? The Light and the Darkness, the free thoughts and old fears. Eyes that tell the world of what a man has seen. And in this life, It is bound to be too much. As a child I found out one day, that love was mysteriously negotiable. I searched for the true kind and found a great love, yes one that had it all, the joy, the sorrow. We learn to make our way through that thick bramble, scratched, and a ragged heart, The doctors they can put hearts back together, leaving it up to you to let it get beat up again, in the tradition of all human families. I think back at all the drama of people living together, suffering the broken love, solemn faces held in the past, when days shone with the possibility of happiness. The stories tell of our plight, all those who survived the good, the bad and the ugly, and if possible, will probably do it again, until we learn just what it's trying to teach us, and where it will eventually take us.
1
Your silk body like cream and honey
Your soft warm touch like way too much
Your sweet drips down my lips
how life revolves around Your hips
I love You I need You You know what I want
Come close drip more slip down my rutt.
drown me love me let me in
This night is ours full of sweet sin.
I write poetry like i make love
The mood comes to swing
And my pen start digging
Emotions are purged
But first
My skin is aware of how poetry has taken a hold of me
So sometimes i think it's charm
I breath
I exhale
I feel love
And start spilling inks on dangerous papers
The mood is constant
And my pen is always ready to dig
I mean dig into thoughts
I write poetry like i make love
I swing a lot in my emotions
And scribble roughly
Sometimes it's more than that
Not it be, make believe
back to your hometown, lost
my childhood house, loss
once a favorite spot
in nature that feels like home at cost
a personal state getting back lost
loosed clock
uncosted lost on a vacate lot
my childhood house, loss
condemn, yuck
all, ahhh!! shucks
Can it truly be
make believe, Not it be,
8/24/26
written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2026
~ She Reached Down My Pants ~
Went to the recent school dance
Was grabbed by a big, fat chance
Who reached down my pants
But what she wanted was missing
She settled for an hour of French kissing
~ She Was Homely, I Wanted Comely ~
My first date was, to put it mildly, slightly homely
I told her honestly I was seeking someone more comely
What’d she do? She spat in my eye
Told me I was a typical dull guy
'Cos if I wanted the latest gossip ~ with her I’d never be lonely
There is torment who tells you nothing except that you are worthy of the devil's persecution,
Elocution might disarm it, but in the beginning it haunts you until you turn to some comfort,
Some illicit comfort that convinces you the pain was a dream and not a nightmare,
In the recesses of stillness and the rest that eludes us, there is a torment that knows us by name,
And hat4es us just the same,
But in the end,
A man who is the first and the last,
Knows a way out,
Find him, grab his garment and let go for absolutely nothing,
Least of all that itch that begs you to scratch it,
And start the game anew,
God love you,
Hold onto Jesus,
And be free.
My empty glass is mocking me.
It laughs at my proclivity.
It led me here and knocked me down.
Another drink and I will drown.
They told me it would be such fun,
But now that it’s all said and done,
I see all that they did not say
As my heart led my head astray…
My empty wallet seems to cry.
The tab has left me high and dry.
I thought I had a little more
But I’ve so much less than before.
A victim of my overreach.
I’m just an old dog you can’t teach.
I fall back on familiar ways.
So, here I am ‘til end of days..
An empty heart, an aching head…
Just help me make it to my bed.
Please do not leave me where I lay;
My foolish choices on display.
They tell me anyone can change.
The ways of grace are awfully strange.
So, that’s what I’ll do come the dawn.
My promises go on and on…
Pick me up and take me home
I can’t make it on my own
I’m laid out upon the floor
I can’t make it to the door
I need a lift so call a ride
And maybe help me get outside
I am stuck here all alone
And I just want to make it home.
I just want to make it home.
.
if'n
mine looks
looks
not
All these little flaws
That you see in my design,
Can you get rid of them
If they’re so easy to find?
I’m not perfect, but I’m horribly designed.
All these imperfections built within me
Only keep holding me back from
Being the best person that I can be.
I wonder if I can give you the keys
To control my thoughts and actions,
Create the perfect me that can please.
Maybe there’s some worth in that.
Reality keeps slipping through my fingers.
I can no longer see what matters to me.
It might be best for someone else to take over.
I’ve done nothing meaningful with these hands of mine.
The darkness where I can fade into calls me.
I could take one more step and be gone.
I don’t have to worry about how I was designed,
Because all the imperfections will disappear.
lost in your own world my angelic voice ignored
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.