Clutched jaw, grinding teeth against pulp,
until ash and blood coat a deadened tongue.
The nightsong quiets—a pulsating silence encapsulates the land
as I walk up to a pyre built of withering dreams and deadly nightshade.
The cold, bitter air brushes against protruding flesh.
Looking toward the skies, faith stripped and shamed,
I climb and take my place among my ancestral spirits.
The silence of the night breaks, with chants of *Burn the witch* filling the void.
Leering eyes and foaming mouths scream obscenities my way.
But even among this fanatic freakshow, I hold on to my dignity.
I do not let them see the fear festering beneath my eyes,
nor does my lip quiver.
With insurmountable strength, I hold my head high
as I watch the torches preparing to set me ablaze.
Closing my eyes one final time, I breathe in everything I have ever held dear.
Memories flood—of loves lost and gained,
of the changing seasons,
of my connection to this glorious earth.
I can feel the flames licking at my feet now.
But I will not scream,
for my resurrection will come soon enough.
WITHOUT YOU
Without you it will be no Liberty;
Without you it will be no eyes;
Where I could see;
Without you it would be obscenities;
Without you there'll be no peace;
Without Elohim ;
there would be nothing;
Creator of all;
He's Almighty God;
All Father without there would be nothing
6/28/25
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.2025
With skateboard tight in hand, his hair cut to the skull,
he takes long drags on cigarettes, flinging each butt
with an easy flick of fingers.
At five feet, slim, in sockless sneakers large for a boy
his size and age, lost in oversized cloths new to his
adolescence, his trousers barely hang on his half
exposed rear, (the latest fad), he moves impatiently
back and forth, spuming cigarette smoke like whale spews
mist from its blow hole, waiting for an older boy, his clone.
Darkness soon smoothers the park and the boy’s clone
appears and they vanish into the night puffing away on
a stronger sweet-scented smoke, laughing, leaving a trail
of quickly fading obscenities. About to leave, my nostrils
catch a whiff of a sweet but unknown drug mixed with
the scent of newly blossomed lilacs, and I quickly snort
and cough it out, recalling something from my boy days
not unlike an odor of premature fruit gone rotten.
Whither rhyme and meter
counting the number of feet or
sustained metaphors, sharp similes
framework for what we called poetry
Alas, today, almost anything goes
slams and raves some tend to ‘fave’
while others dig obscenities and graves
I hear tell there’s ‘a poetry revival’
~ though I sense a fight for survival
Who are any of us but obscenities with bouts of clarity that cloud the chaos which i need like oxygen just for a dip but to plunge i desire fire from napalm in a- bombs with mushroom clouds my pride wont function with anything less anyhow im a habitual up is how my name is pronounced not much good at what you want but good at gettin what we geek in the twilight hours for.... but wait there's more any chance you can enjoy romance an hearts dance till we realize it than we take runnin from it spend every hour fightin it but let anotha muthaer in n were fightin we need to let some light in but we dwell in a darkness more than night so maybe we can find each other at peace in the twilight u love of my life apple of daddys eye crusher of anything that feels right ruiner of any moment with all your might id treasure a few moments with you without so much as a peep but wed have to be in water over our heads no longer bubbling a lil to deep but only than can the crushing void begin to seep a leap into the abyss or yet another miss i think
Born unto the White race with no hood over my face
I see the rainbow in everyone’s eyes
Why? I ask God, why all the lies?
Some may think I bleed green
But that only happens in my dreams
When my skin burns, I turn red
‘Specially when faced with the living dead
Free yourself, while you still can
That is what I said to the sad man
Who eats rubbish from the badlands
Whose freedom is sleeping on park benches
Or screaming obscenities' from behind white picket fences
Suckin’ on brews about the Good News
That the Lord is gonna save us from our sins
And we can keep on chewin’ in the pews
Spittin’ our cud on those who refuse
To believe in the Lord of the One who knew
That we’re kursed with a sky the color of blue
Painted damask, a loathed response.
My mind screams
obscenities as this dopamine craves
your bones.
That other world
is out there, beyond the quiet
I keep bubbled around me,
the noise growing louder along
the flag strewn streets,
banging drums marshaling
the inflamed minds of the masses.
Something has gone wrong.
I no longer feel I belong.
I keep my door closed
and curtains drawn to shut out
the anger from a passing mob,
reinforce the boundaries of my home
with walls of books. They have
marched through and littered
all the lovely places
where I once walked, covered
beauty with garish signs.
Something has gone wrong.
I no longer feel I belong.
Out there, all seems to be
of no worth unless shackled
to a cause. Tribal camps yell
obscenities across the lines
of division and commandeer
their gods to mouth
a sanctioned hate.
Something has gone wrong.
I no longer feel I belong.
And what can I do
but play with a frail voice
and think of what could be
and on dark days,
take hope and defiance
in the gentle arms
of Emily Dickinson's poetry.
Tea came percolating from the pot
Burglarizing the neighborhood clans
Moms held their babies in their arms
Above their heads for fear of caffeine
The fiend held everyone hostage
At gun point it seems without a doubt
Leaving the young to their own devices
To run or drink coffee as they will
No one questioned the authority of tea
Though it has no arms or feet
Or mind to speak of so to speak
A crime scene most fowl came about
Screamed out in the form of steam
Boiling over in the pot most odious
Whistling obscenities loud at the police
Tea’s particular proclivity towards crowds
In particular those who identify as single
Struck fear in the community at large
As tea has no time for any people
As you can see, tea don’t think
We’re told of your peaceful philosophies
yet hear your voice of hate,
As we wonder what kind of fools you mistake us for
You champion the cause of human rights
And preach how we should love
Yet it’s evident your simple mind
Know’s not what it’s speaking of
You insult those to the right of you
With obscenities and bias claim
Telling followers to hate the rich
Because somehow they’re to blame....
for children without fathers -
and mothers who love their drugs
You preach your words of justice
While praising violence done by thugs
Having murders in the streets,,,
and hungry homeless is not cool
But blaming successful people
Are the rantings of a fool
Corporations are made of people
Who go to work each and every day
Preforming the task required of them
Because they have bills to pay
Instead of bringing unity
Showing pathways which will work
You encourage riots in the streets
Proving you are just a jerk
Where does your ignorant bias end
Dear Heart,
I’d like to file a formal complaint
It seems that your an obsessive overachiever
That you take your job a little to seriously
Dear Heart,
Please stop breaking yourself into a million little pieces-
Because you fall in love with ideas and hypotheticals
Because you color people before they can show you their true aura
Dear Heart,
Why
Why do you find every crumbling transparent excuse for the world
But somehow you make yourself bleed
Why can’t you put up a wall against the hailing obscenities
Why can’t you knock down that wall for a genuine whisper
Dear Heart,
You were supposed to be a road map to happiness
But it seems I’m lost somewhere between I love you and I miss you
You are supposed to find contentment in success and lessons in failures
But you grasp for the next and the regret
Dear Heart,
I know your tired and broken
But Brain is telling me to tell you to stop crying
Dear Heart,
I’m sorry I yelled at you
I’m sorry I thought a bandaid was enough to fix you
Dear Heart,
I know your Shattered-
But I promise I won’t lose the pieces
Mediterranean Salad
As I gaze upon the picture hanging on the wall,
of the Parthenon on Mount Olympus of long ago,
where history was made and mythology took roots
(and phalanx of hoplites conquered the known world)
while the gods ruled from the mountain top;
and bellowed obscenities from their mouths
and threw down lightning bolts upon the shepherds
and their flocks, non-stop, and I thought;
it must have been a relief to feel the breeze off the sea,
and to sit down and eat in peace,
a Mediterranean Salad with succulent sardines.
I was stained soiled and broken
Out of my mouth came evil miss-spoking's
Perpetual vomiting of obscenities
Spewing out of me
Have I gotten over it
a light switched
On from the Dark Dawn light now
I'm seeing in a new mindset in God
I am over it
And a precious previous past life present
No reciprocated love from God's precious vessels
The devil had me thinking past tense I was an unwanted man saw the true And truth I was a righteous man
Seek Him first
Seek Him First
Seek Him first God
And all of those things promise to me to you
Are now ever true always, already done
Already granted that thing in mind in your heart
Those the Beautiful Things already made done
It's already mine already yours
Those the battles won O' how I got over
Have I gotten over it
A light switched on from the Dark Dawn light now
I'm seeing in a new mindset
In God I am over it my Father asking me
Have I gotten over it yes!
Father I am more than enough
My sins shames and doubts
Streaming nothing but positive thoughts
In a new mindset I got over it
Selah
1/7/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2023©
Fear ran rampant through the streets of all the cities, escalating wows and tribulations.
It holds back the manifestations of life’s improvements, because of apprehensions.
It knocks on every door in the neighborhood causing chaos, bedlam, and despair.
It is a muffled whisper in the mind of many, permeating and penetrating the atmosphere.
Fear is bent on destroying lives without the slightest bit of care.
Worry is the child of fear and he leaves his siblings everywhere.
Fear kills the desires of a person and scoffs at his great ideas and says don’t you even dare.
Positive thoughts produce positive results, so fear festers ideas of envy, malice, and despair.
Fear came upon a humble house near the edge of the wood.
Fear shook and rattled at the front door and shouted obscenities as loud as he could.
Fear banged and kicked at the door yelling things that to the biggest and strongest man, would scare.
Love answered the door and found no one standing there.
Blast the doors open to its crackling light
And wrap my heart over all of its fury
I snuggle up to the storm raging night
Roaring black skies screaming down, my delight
Desert monsoon quivering all blurry
With all of my might, I squeeze its soul tight
Spun out of control and not at all right
My kindred spirit, have not I a worry
I snuggle up to the storm raging night
Tearing away turning love into fright
Desperate minds churn up in its flurry
With all of my might, I squeeze its soul tight
It howls obscenities wanting to fight
Cemetery ghosts, like blown leaves scurry
I snuggle up to the storm raging night
Pretending a peaceful end to life's plight
I won't be false and from madness hurry
I snuggle up to the storm raging night
With all of my might I squeeze its soul tight
August 4, 2022
First Person Villanelle Poetry Contest
Sponsored by L Milton Hankins
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