I've just been to Africa.
Our trip was a rush job.
In a hazardous and chaotic cosmos,
it's another world. Entirely.
If you go to another planet,
don't plan on staying long,
they're slippery and dangerous.
I'm back now—to my weird little life,
where I’ve always been netted and safe—
in classes—swaddled in color-coded calendars.
I like books - book books, paper books.
There's something memorable to durable goods,
the physical, a hex to text you can touch.
School requires a quiet disappearance.
All at once but nothing dramatic,
just small, measurable units
moment by moment edits.
A pleasure removed here or postponed there,
things renamed “inefficient” mostly.
One can lose oneself in self-improvement.
As you get better at academic measurables,
everything else suffers.
You can streamline your personality,
to disengage with distractions—
no matter how cute they are.
.
.
Songs for this:
TiK ToK by Kesha
2 days into college by Aimee Carty
The vast abundant circumspect
Everything is all,
all is in everything
Major masses amounts
Plethora
Abundance of all
surplus more than many
all is in everything
Excessive over whelming
Unaccenting, beyond measurable
all is everything
masses amounts major...
PLETHORA
8/27/26
written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2026©
I Found A Mile-Long Stick.
And When I Touch It...
The Other End Moves
With Each Shiver.
There And Then.
A Mile Away.
Now Is Now.
-Fast! Not Speedy!-
Just Is.
***
It's Not Resistant
To Struggle...
It's Not Made Of
Connections, Like
Grandma's Whispering
Game... You Recall?
No! It's More Revealing.
It's Not A Stick.
It's Made Of Light.
And It’s More Than A Mile.
It’s Instantaneous...
Distance Maxed.
Not Measurable.
That's How It's
Timeless.
But Our Senses
Feel... Which
Needs:
Propagation!
(According To The Propaganda.)
-Gray Squirrel
08-17-2026
Hold your fingers around my soul
as we tightly embrace our love
held as an eternal truth
where death has no meaning
and neither does time
for love's bond is stronger
and will last beyond the measurable
though we are suspended through eternity
it does not hold us
we are the holders of love's existence
the guardians that grace the faceless emotion
that we give a face
as we hold firmly onto each heartbeat's cadence
even as our flesh dries
and our belted arms grow tighter
merging us together in perpetuity
sealed and impenetrable
held in an armored manifestation
of love portrayed as permeant lovers
encased enduringly, frozen in time
never to be unfrozen
INNERMOST METAPHORS
confiscation
truthfulness
&
unflinching
beginnings
laying
bare
a vulnerable
consciousness
to
exposed
gestures
of
devotion
to
creativity
sublimated
ambiguous
interpreted
fragments
perceived
insights
of
innocence
measurable
but
unreconciled
discernible
personified
opposites
differentials
subtle
equivalence
in
vague
unexplained
suppositions
Everyday is hello
Today and tomorrow will always be
Everlasting is void of time
Religion cannot provide eternal life
Never a need for a last goodbye
In Christ alone is eternal life
Time is measurable limitation
You and I can receive eternal life
truth, a specific view of reality
it appears before persons at a given moment
it is not static and cannot be measured
in a laboratory
each individual score is different
as every perceived phenomenon is specific
truth is time bound according
to one mindset frequency within a set framework
truth is always connected
to convenience for wit as best position
based on individuals heeded comfort
convenience and conviction
one scoop can sword another
face can be beautiful or unsavoury
since truth is pliable it is easily
bent by egoic mind as positioning moves
its nature and clarity is not rooted
in material mirrors
moves from waves beyond time-space
ability to touch truth as purity
indicated on spiritual station
being both measurable and unmeasurable
diffused by gospel stories
it can't be captured within single framework
by set groups of labelled individuals
remaining unbound to space
free from human law
individual truth is presence coloured
as fact for material conveniences
________________________
BRONZE PLACEMENT: ALL POETRY CONTEST
MARCH 26
On early mornings, from where I sit in my living room, I cannot see the rising sun in the east.
But on late aftternoons or early evenings,
From that same room, I can gaze upon a
Beautiful sunset in the west.
From where I now reside, it rains a lot,
And I see the color green like I had not
For more than 40 years. There is silence
In the dark nights, and there is the soothing
Sounds of the whispering winds.
Where I once lived, on any given day, whether in late November or the month of May, there was the sound of a siiren, a plane flying over, or a beeping horn.
On a comfortable back yard bench, I grew
Accustom to observing my two tall palms,
My lemon and plum trees, my peach and neçtarine trees, and my newly planted Rose of Sharon.
If we would but dare to notice, your life and mine are filled with measurable time and space. Like white water rapids,
There's a constant flow of God's grace.
At any given time, in any given space, God
Has programed beauty for the human race.
The scale of right and wrong tilts gently with the weight of intent.
No gold nor crown can sway a will that seeks to harm or heal.
The measure of goodness lies in the gush after just decision.
People feel goodness in tremors, not in the thunder of applause.
A single act of kindness steadies the soul more than virtue's roles.
It measures itself with the warmth that lingers after the gaze fades.
All things align when compassion gathers scattered truths of being.
Division is the shadow cast to confound — when truth skips its lines.
Goodness sings clearly when tuned to bring harmony to opposites.
Not all that glows is measurable, yet light knows its proper depth.
Even a candle can tutor the night in the art of grace.
Goodness is the light that softens, not blinds, the eyes that seek it.
Goodness is a magnetic compass arm, afloat upon a pond.
Its needle swings towards mercy, humming attuned to caring.
Goodness is a two-step dance synced to align with the beat.
People of demise, with an undeserved fate, like a defeated dream,
With dead dinosaurs, my eternity embroidered by extended time.
May new beings be born from the manure of life, all at once,
Identifiable in the ecology of the world, sometimes alive-alive.
The emotion of the sun, an immense mirror in which we lose ourselves,
I, the animalistic poet, reflecting God in verses that burn.
Blinding us in all things, our gazes are strange shards,
My words deceitful, vinous, full of bubble-poems, oceans.
Feeding hungry thoughts, wrapped in vain hopes,
For I have died formally, before my time, in empty days.
To the venal criminals, secretly scolding life's partners,
Covering the sunken graves under the impenetrable rain.
Under the rain's immensity, measurable, we catch ourselves in a dance,
The supposed heroes, pure sources of lightning, with pale color,
Bringing from the horizon the languid light, the extinguished dusk,
The humanity in me and in him, balancing the dawns in dreams.
Beloved, the night tilts the balance of dawns that intoxicate us,
In the paradox of life, where light and darkness get drunk.
I know the mechanics of Time --
easy enough to add and subtract.
Division a realm we can calculate;
but, when it comes to continuity, it is
an age old question -- Our human heart,
an imperfect perfect example: beats can
be quantified; but feelings have a strange math
all their own...often outside of
measurable reason. Having no
consensus on
which
one
can count....
And so the day comes to an end
Oh how I wish my soul would mend
The grief one feels is beyond reproach
When they obby so bad, they need a coach
I jump and weave and try to progress
But the obby is fierce, one measurable test
But my soul was saved when from the heavens
Came THE OBBY MASTER, (his real name's Kevin)
He guided me through the jumps and weaves
Now I obby with grace, and shift-lock with ease
The day is anew and my soul is saved
Follow my poetryusop
Freely let me be who I am
Pen in hand
To speak with innocent words of love
The vision of each thing
In the language of measurable hope
So that I may walk this earth
Knowing that each difference found
Is the same as every affinity bestowed
To so cherish the world
The space between stars is not empty--
There’s a force keeping each in place,
Yet also binding them together,
Preventing one or the other
From wandering too far.
Like the space between two lovers
Filled with thoughts and longings,
So that they may be miles apart
In measurable distance
Yet close enough to each other
In unfathomable love.
October 23, 2024
Baguio City, Philippines
I thought we were a thing,
But I never knew there was something.
Something you did want to share,
For you thought I didn't want to hear or care.
Now the memories we shared are gone,
They were to last for a generation.
Oooh no they were just heart desires,
The love to us was more powerful than livewires.
Love hurts and it's a complicated thing,
It leaves holes and one wish.
Wishes that never come true,
Only mother's love is true.
The pain in my heart is unbearable,
And the hatred I have is not measurable.
That creature has drowned me in a pool,
A wise man once said it for the fool.
O love, o love where did I go wrong?
What happened? I thought we were getting along.
The outcome must be accepted,
Even though it's not what was expected.
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