Earth's door is always ajar
We are vulnerable
Free will is lemon merengue pie
And as we bake, the oven door is closed.
Perfection is a woman
Compassion whips world wars
Confront and slay each ghostly ill,
And men of steel won't wander far from home.
Free will is an open door
Choose the blind man's mission
Each pupil of irises falls and rise,
And each must face profound heat that heals.
A woman births perfection
The Potter chooses and guides
Faith was named faith to usher salvation,
And as we explore, the hand of faith waits.
*
(I pondered and wrote this poem while exploring human vulnerability, doubts and fears, and God-given intuition that leads us to compassion.)
Six decades ago
the landscape of
my Little Nassau
had
places like
The Silver Slipper
The Blue Note
The Banana Boat
The Conch Shell
The Zanzibar
The Cat and Fiddle
and The Drumbeat Club
with activities like
Fire dancing
limbo dancing
steel bands
big bands
and Goombay drums
Interesting people like
Sweet Richard
Blind Blake Higgs
George Symonette
Freddie Munnings
Eloise Lewis
Paul Meeres
Chippie Chipman
and Peanuts Taylor
and songs like
Island Woman
Bahama Lullaby
Chi Chi Merengue
Goombay Papa
Guma In Exuma
Island In The Sun
and Conch Ain't Got No Bone
ignited into the atmosphere
Santo Domingo
Big palm trees and a cool breeze
Merengue... let's dance
Pina Coladas galore
Viviendo La Vida
I gave my all to thee
then fell to my knees
feeling robbed.
I was given Risperdal
that released me of rage
against my foolish ways
floating on cloud nine
that held my self-centered ways at bay.
I had to have thee
loving little old me
as if tulips held the power and smell of love.
I was not alone; and
clamored to your kindness
yes, the number of times you arrived
dressing me anew
driving me to banquets
my heart was in it for all the wrong reasons:
the loss of my eldest brother
the loss of my eldest sister
the shedding of addiction skin.
I gave my all to thee, and
I feared you left me dangling.
I threw lemon merengue pie in your face, and
learned a lot about love, and spiritual maturity.
It's true you drove from New York to big sky country
seeing for yourself I was fully wedded.
*
By chance shall we dance;
Shall our toes and feet meet, sweet romance;
By chance;
We dance;
Fairest fair come here
Come let's make music
Hits of simple movements
Romantic old sway side to side
Rumba let us not hide
Little like a violet romance
We go
Tango tango
Let us walk Fox trots
In any dance zizomba
Merengue zouk
Continually dance with shall my love
Let our arches touch feet and toes kiss
we dance and such
We danced
By chance by chance shall we dance
3/30/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2021
It’s a wonderful pie; can you see it?
That sweet lattice top apple pie.
Cinnamon oozes from slits in its crust.
It’s the favorite of my guy.
It’s a wonderful pie; can you smell it?
Its fragrance is pumpkin and spice.
The one that my grandma always would make
for us kids, both naughty and nice!
It’s a wonderful pie. Can you feel it?
The lusciousness of the merengue
that melts on your tongue is such a delight.
There’s enough here for the whole gang!
It’s a wonderful pie; can you taste it?
So rich it is named a cheesecake!
This one that I made with caramel swirls
is the one I most wanted to bake.
Written Dec. 2018 but never got entered in time for the Punny Pies contest
If the world would only stop on cue
all promises made would return anew
The seasons would rearrange their order
and lines we’ve drawn—no longer borders
If the world would only dance on cue
and kick up its heels for me and you
Then what a show we all could make
to merengue together—with love our fate
(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)
Like a sweet child in ballet
toe steps glide across the archway,
A graceful pirouette holding breath and heartbeat
balanced then suddenly rising like modern athletes.
A rhythmic cadence hustles across the days
when life is simple and living all game play,
Then the day waltzes methodic 3/4 weeks
sashaying manic tango pause then slips away piqued.
The merengue drags bodies closely touched
sweeping lags across the room in two quarters clutched,
bolero sharps and turns spinning like the fading years
lost in the frenzy of living fast and freely shed tears
A twisting stomp to slap the earth
quick tarantella wild winds giving birth,
a shuffle into polonaise gentle and lullaby eyes
slides to rest in minuet reprieves and haunting cries.
Too soon the days are months turned to years
and decades lost to the aging cheers,
gone is the youth of preset times
lost but not forgotten holding their prime.
Like the dance that stirred our spirits long ago
dream and memory holds steady in life's shows,
there is no end for life's pawn,
the dance lives forever a youthful swan.
Collaboration with Space Cadet (Wesley C.)
In him, I dance, my back strong, my feet steady.
I'm a tiptoe heart, whispered here in our laughter affair
with an anchor in plankton, when
my numb calves fumble in a kitchen sink bath.
I'm held in his hands, captured
in splinters and colorful shards of coral to hold in his heart.
Moriarty and Manchu, I flee and we fly;
I always come back, if not one of me, than the other you.
His heart does know and does care:
To him I am one; to me, he is love.
Flashes turn into nights,
And demons swim awake to turn torment,
Haunt hunger through me,
But through immeasurable distance.
a warm light, a hand whispers, "Dance,
dance, you can dance!"
***
January 13, 2017
Corrected on January 17, 2017
I will die intoxicated
by the poison of sweet lies
falling from your cheating lips...
ah...
how well they lie...
when they touch me whispering
and drink me slowly
stirring storms
on my warm and quiet shores, mi amor
nights turn into days
days grow longer and golden
encounters are pampered on exotic beaches
in realms reached only by boat
women with breasts burned by endless summers
wink at you
sipping colorful margaritas
seagulls break the mirrored surface
with hungry beaks and sharp screams
samba rumba bachata merengue
ay ay ay Latin American fiesta
round hips sway under hot hands
corazones salvajes smolder in copper-colored chests
and your lips keep lying to me
etching hot petals on my thighs
awakened from the tropical drowsiness
(hanging from the crescent moon
and baptizing the verse with tequila
a mariachi prays endearingly
Dios mio
give me days to die
and nights to rise again
una y otra vez)
As Ring of Fire departs day's fray
Daylight lingers in bridled rays
Eclipsed rays through filtered haze
Filter through cloud's liquid maze
A cloudy fondue with sparks doth blaze
Blazing chemicals tinged with fluorescent glaze
A tinge of yellow into glowing orange, deeper red doth
braise
Singeing the horizon with colorful light displays
Singed elements melt descending from vaunted dais
Leaving a melted merengue of tan welts and lactic grays
Gray columns swirl into tidal wave submerging all gilded
pathways
Silver waves fold into miry abyss leaving charcoal malaise
Stephen Parker
contest: Wreath on the Flavor of Dusk
Date of poem: August 9, 2012
The bouncing beat
Of merengue music
At the beach bar pulses
Across the Bahamian bay
On a mellow breeze,
Calling to the palms
As they sway their arms
To the night rhythm,
Inviting them into a dance
With the full blue beams
That tiptoe across the dark water
Eager to step onto the white expanse
Lit by the bright disco ball overhead