Mourn Poems

Mourn Lines

Why I'ma blue class das 
Heaves off weight
Glass paings, cement trix
Uppa game
Leaves under trough
All circumvent no plow?

Gotta plan on does
Mookie curfew

Those Who Mourn

There is an ache deep in my core.
I don't think I can go on anymore.
It stops my lungs, my breath it severs 
I try in vain to hold it together

with weary arms wrapped around my middle,
I rock myself, like when I was little

The Great physician can heal 
His power, these miracles are real
Broken hearts or

Ode on MOurn

The monotonous-mourning morn
Live in little-litful way alone,
Where no white-whole the born
Noone show who she-scorn.

Creation crys out with curse
Newly bride burn in doubt,
Bone injured no see nurse
Then some one ask why not out.

Endure-enamouring poision
Fills in veins like blood-red,
Though the whole world gave caution
I chose that path to live in shade.

The vault of white stones went pale
Where

Decrepit Heart to mourn

‘Alas ! My heart had to leave its treasures at sides of path of Life  to end 
     at ‘ Death’. - Poet

         In last phase decrepit heart to mourn.
        All achievements turned obsolete.
 

Bless They That Mourn

"While he was yet speaking, there came also another, and said, Thy sons and thy daughters were eating and drinking wine in their eldest brother's house: [19] And, behold, there came a great wind from the wilderness, and smote the four corners of the house, and it fell upon the young men, and they are

Mourn not till the embers fade 25-05-24

Mourn not till the embers fade,
Till the blasphemous time forces us on our way.
Mourn not what is dying
But treasure instead what it created.
Listen to how the gulls cry;
They don’t mourn for our passing.
The littering fragments we left behind 
Will continue to rise and fall with the wind,
Dance and rejoice in the ringing bells.
Exhale.
Feel the tender

SONGS OF SORROW-MOURN

He came holding a trumpet, dressed in white, with a glowing face that illuminated my shadow of doubts.
His smile was a catalyst of butterflies in my stomach, an awe feeling that left me in the cocoon of his charm.
He was soft-spoken, words with a resounding consonance, each word an arsenal that took my guard down.
His

Today, I Mourn slain Beatle John Lennon

Today, I Mourn slain Beatle John Lennon
assassinated at 10:50 PM,
on December 8, 1980
forty four years later to date
outside The Dakota Apartment,
(also known as the Dakota Apartments),
located at 1 West 72nd Street
in New York City, U.S.

After Mark David Chapman
unloaded five bullets in the back
with a .38 special revolver,
that son of a gun got his quarryman
and became

The Gauntlet

Step where I have stepped,
tread where I have trod,
weep what I have wept
and crawl where I have clawed.

Then, and only then,
may you judge what I've selected -
only then have you earned my yen,
to abandon the gashes I've collected.

Retreat not, then, I dare you,
hovel not in your early barrow.
Shelter not to make it through,
hide not from

Literature, festive fire, they will never mourn, for a lifeline, to say, ditto again

I committed to river Volga, the longest river in Europe
Here, estuary, they are sounds, subtle, peaceful and eloquence, a hoopoe
In glum and glee, damage controlling,she, still, suffice a pleasant song, 
life long

You and I, came back for the guy, who, burnt the face, the funeral, encased, and Nirvana...ahem...
The river Volga, still existing, meandering and... perhaps

Mourn No More

It’s okay to ache and hurt
It’s okay to want comfort
It’s okay to have a broken contrite heart
It’s okay to slowly but surely tear apart

Every tear will eventually be wiped away
In His Kingdom of cherishable paradise
Today, we should be remedies of dismay
To be servants of repentance and an utopian tranquility that never dies

Never look back and

ULUTATE MOURN-

Mourn person’s loss or death;
Person was lost in life, fleeting breath, taken left;
Now found in death sorrow, wail, and moan;
~
And groan sore, weep, cry, sob torn;
Beat one’s breast, 
Ululate



7/15/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2024©

Morning Brings the Sun

A body cold as stone
Organic flesh statue
All the warmth is gone
Your breath cannot catch you
Milky white filmy veil
Where once reflected light
Lively limbs now they fail
No soul seen in your eyes 
The spirits skin is shed
Like a garment worn to rags 
Sin-eater consumes the bread
And mourners wail so sad.
Look up ye people of sorrow!
Your loved one

I Find Her in Everything-A Poem About Change

I tend to mourn who I used to be,
To think of all the change I have endured–since birth, until now. 
I think about how happy I was as a child,
Rocks and sticks were my friends,
I talked to the birds in the trees, and they talked back,
The smell of my grandma's sourdough pancakes was the best

There’s nothing to mourn about death, any more than the blooming of a rose

There’s nothing to mourn about death, any more than the blooming of a rose,
What’s truly terrible isn’t death, but the lives that are wasted.
People lose their essence in the abyss of forgetfulness,
Throwing their days into an ocean of ignorance, foolish and uncaring.
They live in the shadow of an empty existence, lost in the mundane void,
Too

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