Two Brothers departed a concrete world
Of hurried horns hallowing a rat-race rule
Babbling crystal streams countered by camel grunts
Led the way to calloused palms.
And in that breath of honest air.
The Bees and Ants hailed us faor.
Under shy shimmering stars in a field of pitch black.
In the crisp, crunch of forest soil,
Dawned upon by feet so bare,
Of gemmed cobweb bridges naturally built,
And the scarlet sky of rain and rakhal reprise
The Bees and Ants welcomed our sighs.
In Yellow hands stained by turmeric pure,
The freshest butter met the freshest bread,
And sugarcane rain drenched
Honey mansions of a thousand rooms,
As mudded walls shielded fragile hay,
The Bees and Ants asked us to stay.
But decades of toxic sprays, commercial plagues,
The greed and ghosts of governed ways,
Tortured our mother in many minds
Two brother spent a thousand days,
Two brothers in an agricultural maze,
To show Bees and Ants an organic way.
Categories:
mudded, environment, farm, nature,
Form: Narrative
I was a blemished;
Made of skin;
I was mudded by my sins;
Yet He my God refined me remoted me cleanse me from my sin;
Misshapened He reshaped me;
All over again I'm refined;
Now I am a new pot of clay;
7/12/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021
Categories:
mudded, analogy, appreciation, change, engagement,
Form: Free verse
Into the mountains, happily they trampled,
Underneath mudded boots, below the sodden grass
Rock lurking, dark and grey, a fossil from the past.
Rumble and it slowly moved, climbers trembling with fear
Looking to the sky above, the weather seemed so clear.
Rumble and the earth it shook, they paused to look around
Gasping in disbelief of what beneath their feet they found.
First they shouted “Earthquake”, that’ s what it surely is,
Then they shouted “not quite” when they heard a screeching...
...Hiss...
Rumble and the hillside moved, they swirled with it to the sky,
Screaming and mesmerized, they shouted
"Oh No"
"it’s time to die".
Rumble and the creature stumbled, turning as to see
Scrambling on his back, was it a climber or a...
“Gigantic!”
“Awesome!”
They couldn’t believe their eyes. Who else could ever say
Under the mountain a mythical Ekaspeek...
Spies.
25/04/17
Categories:
mudded, mountains, mythology,
Form: Free verse
Pondering in sloth riddled exile, Stained by resolute pixel batter
Mutilated by idea’s negligent dirty mudded and infested bath-water
Sharing the extreme imagination contrast reality.
Panic thrusted full pelt entrusted.
Money feeds such little it cares
Freelance breed suffering servant indeed.
The ubiquitous sleeve hidden and deceived
Laughing smiles teeth that gleam
Sweaty handshakes left unfilled and malice built
A practitioner of harmful concept
A leveller of nature’s milk.
Categories:
mudded, allegory,
Form: Enclosed Rhyme