A curly corded telephone rings in a distant room,
its black Bakelite bulk vibrates behind closed eyes.
An old-time fire-engine parks its flame and brass chassis
inside a cavernous skull, though no conflagration
sets the dark alight.
It is that shallow pit of night when faceless clocks
expose themselves to be landmines.
A far past is calling; disembodied tongues drum loud
in an echoing ear.
A cumbersome receiver tumbles off its cradle
an accumulated dust of misappropriated yesterday’s
softens its fall.
Nothing has grasped at nothing.
A line is dead and buried; there's no resurrection,
the call however lingers, as a voice dissolve's
deep within the combustible light
of another day.
Complicit disenfranchisement;
Complicated blessings
Misappropriated hidden confessions
To each his own we come down from,
From our thrones we are brutal to ourselves
Far be it we're never alone
written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2025
The old ‘Pass-Punt-Kick’ contest
misappropriated by politicos
You’re familiar with the stereotype
the kind who check which way the wind blows
Like a hot potato they pass the buck
If asked a tough question, they punt
And when a financial decision looms, they
kick the can years down the road
So, fans, it seems we have a winner
535 Congressmen, each and every one a sinner
A curly corded telephone rings in a distant room,
its black Bakelite bulk vibrates behind closed eyes.
An old-time fire-engine parks its flame and brass chassis
inside a cavernous skull, though no conflagration
sets the dark alight.
It is that shallow pit of night when faceless clocks
expose themselves to be landmines.
A far past is calling; disembodied tongues drum loud
above the rattle of a tin ear.
A cumbersome receiver tumbles off its cradle
an accumulated dust of misappropriated yesterday’s
softens its fall.
Nothing has grasped at nothing.
A line is dead and buried; there's no resurrection,
the call however lingers, as a voice dissolve's
deep within the combustible light
of another day.
She loves the ballparks,
and goes to Symphany halls.
She loves God but not religion.
She cusses and curses,
gets drunk on sailors,
yet her heart’s an open daisy.
In Kentucky they call her
‘darlin’,
In West Virgina
they call her ‘darlin’,
in Tennessee, they call her
‘darlin’.
In Alabama they call her
‘honey’ or 'sugar'.
In New York City they call her ‘baby’
through a gritty windpipe.
She slums it with the rich,
walks tall with the poor,
and she never, ever
will be misappropriated,
by words, labels,
or given names.
Hee-Haw was a Donkey
misappropriated as a laugh
Joe Biden was his godfather
oops ~ My bad, Joe's gaffe
Beige
Copper
Tan
What kind of mess I am?
Disintegrated misappropriated bludgeoned;
Love and peace is coming;
Deep inside the heart,
it is dark;
There is a light,
that flickers on bright;
As the dawn purple blue and red royalty fit as it bleeds slight;
Sadden been hit, struck over, over, over again
10/20/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr ©
White Faces
and We the People
go hand in hand.
White hands
shake
white hands
without ever washing
their hands.
Handcuffs,
In God we trust
Affirmations
rendered on
God's word
promotes equality
Yet,
same crime
different times
feels like
slavery after the fact
Your flag
rebellious
by nature
Mine unified
with plenty of
disruptions
I tend to side with you
But that only leaves
Me handcuffed
swearing
to a misappropriated deity
while you
are telling me
to get over it
high-fiving your
one and only
***** friend
washing your
hands
Drifting, misappropriated,
my lips spoke trivialities,
my hapless heart was inarticulate.
Fearfully I fumbled through
each day, frittering opportunities,
fervently hoping they wouldn't pick me.
A wraith within a wraith, I flittered by
commitment like a man without a plan;
I only knew the pleasures of avoidance,
'til I was pushed into the present by
a crushing ultimatum, compelling me
to find my way alone, now I greet
each morning with a smile.
So jaded, misappropriated, confused and lost. Fairly fairytales,
Lived, at what cost? Is nothing sacred anymore?
Modern day Cinderellas’ marry princes and are soon swept away by crocodiles
with beguiling smiles.
Prince Charming, answers the call of false maidens in distress
Who appeal to a nature so base, he sits alone in a ramshackle castle obsessed
With wooing not keeping,
all the while held together by twine and broken glass, into his heart, darkness creeping
While Romeo is in loved with Mercutio instead of Juliet
When animals are treated as children and children are treated just like pets.
When we live side by side with fragile happiness, but welcome regrets.
When indifference and passion are fellow bed mates
And the expected prognostication of marriage is more convenience and less about faithfulness and faith.
When dreams are shattered as soon as they are born
When the steady cadence of dying love comforts the love-lorn
When heartache is expected and dreams unspoken
That is when the fairy-tale is broken.
Drifting, misappropriated,
my lips spoke trivialities,
my hapless heart was inarticulate.
Fearfully I fumbled through
each day, frittering opportunities,
fervently hoping they wouldn't pick me.
A wraith within a wraith, I flittered by
commitment like a man without a plan;
I only knew the pleasures of avoidance,
'til I was pushed into the present by
a crushing ultimatum, compelling me
to find my way alone, now I greet
each morning with a smile.
Drifting, misappropriated,
my lips spoke trivialities,
my hapless heart was inarticulate.
Fearfully I fumbled through
each morning frittering opportunities,
fervently hoping they wouldn't pick me.
A wraith within a wraith, I flittered by
commitment like a man without a plan;
I only knew the pleasures of avoidance,
till I was pushed into the present by
a crushing ultimatum, compelling me
to find my way alone, now I greet
each morning with a smile.
So crushed and misappropriated am I!
Am I! Am I! Am I! Am I!
That my heart lies on the floor, waiting...
Waiting forever hopelessly while mourning
The loss of your eternal love, darling.
Baby, sweetheart, darling..
I miss you like a fish misses bait.
I love you like athlete's foot loves dirty feet.
I want to be with you.
I want to eat you.
I want to be one with you.
Long past death doing us part,
I want to be the bat in your cave.
Please take me back, I beg of you.
As Justin Timberlake is to pop,
And Janet Jackson is to dance,
I am to you.
NEVER leave me.
Please!
Please!
Please!
Or else, my eternal love, I shall die...
As critics would like...
Start to sound like nothing at all:
When their back’s are up against the wall,
And the Empire’s fortress starts to fall.
I hear there’s a concert for grieving;
Down at Altamount;
Surmon on the Mount;
There is a gospel for the good:
Misappropriated, misunderstood.
Come on! Give us a reason,
Instead of an act of treason,
Against your collective self.
This abandoned nation, sometime, somewhere,
Left its very heart on the shelf.
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