I talk to the trees
but they don’t listen to me…
I tell you my dreams
and while you’re listening to me
I suddenly see them
come true
—Alan Jay Lerner/Frederick Loewe I Talk to the Trees
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Gaze Out the Pane
Gaze out the pane,
As if a wand turned dark to light.
Gaze out the pane,
Green leaves morph murky to champagne.
Piquant of trees; peaking’s excite.
Wonders you miss with oversight.
Gaze out the pane.
The nights were short,
A clear summer, long and hot,
A chickadee visited every dawn,
And caught a stunning view by the pane.
Maybe my nest’s walls knew,
A fluffy gray-black chick who...
Lit the sun pointed to my nest house...
Captured my morning drowse.
A courageous little skylark,
With a notorious chirp crack,
She repeatedly taps my pane,
And sharply beeps, in rhythmic strain.
Pulled from beloved slumber, I scan who,
Through my drowsy eyes, I view...
The vivid rattle, truly, she’s a great dancer,
My ears almost paralyzed by the clatter.
Through the solid unglazed pane its clear,
The morning breeze powers the air,
The lovely melody alarms my doze...
Tirelessly, she airs her pose.
The shrill stole my focus,
A lone owls’ hoot – a secret in the sunrise,
The arduous tweet feels counterfeit,
But the unfolding truth won’t lie or cheat.
.
she returnz
this time every
year
spring
when mine eyne
see thuh clear uv
Jehovah God Almighty's
Create
its vernal
sweet
az mine daffodil
front mine see
mine narez
complete
such thuh
cure
Just getting ready to open the door,
an old door with six panes of glass
filling the upper half of the door,
like six frames of distinct pictures
into the world.
Wanting to step outside and take a deep breath
of this warming spring morning,
but noticed one of the panes was different
than the others, distorted slightly,
like old time glass.
I took some time to look at the pane,
to find a slight discoloration of the glass.
All the window panes looked out onto a porch
and a backyard with trees just starting to leaf
and a few daffodils that were announcing
another spring was arriving.
But that one pane, with a differing hue
provided a slightly yellowish tint to the yard.
It made the daffodils even brighter and
the yard more sun drenched than it was.
It was, like art. One small sliver of the world
but it drew me in to take a deeper look.
I was reminded of the satisfaction that is found
by enjoying the small, unique things in life.
A spell cast, a net of wonder forever,
Transfixed in mountainous worlds, clever.
Isolated in chosen safe places, deep,
Sublime generosity, secrets to keep.
A portal of experience, a window's grace,
A reprieve from boredom, time and space.
A caress of melancholy, when skies open in rain,
An embrace of hope in sunshine, easing pain.
A pact with the vine leaves, whispers low,
A way to touch the seasons, where soft breezes blow.
Sending morse code-like candle messages bright,
Literally to propel the narrative, in fading light.
Washing my soul in the earliest sunshine bath,
Where spirits rise, along a sunlit path.
Soul inclined to shrivel in confined space, it's true,
A cinema, window a screen, a world anew.
A picture, dipped in hues so grand,
Transient, aching, tentative, grains of sand.
Intend to live as slow as the vista allows to the sky,
An idyllic portrayal, a repeat telecast, a painted dye.
Villanelle: "Beyond the Pane"
B. Marquardt-Alexander with Sylvia Plath and Ima Gen (credited to all)
In sunlight's haze, I stare beyond the pane,
A world outside, where love and joy remain.
Where freedom calls, my heart begins to strain.
The grass whispers secrets, as I lie in vain,
Longing to flee, to leave this heartache's stain.
In sunlight's haze, I stare beyond the pane.
Memories of you, they linger, a refrain,
A bittersweet reminder of love's sweet pain.
Where freedom calls, my heart begins to strain.
The sky's a canvas, painted blue and wide,
A masterpiece of possibilities inside.
In sunlight's haze, I stare beyond the pane.
In dreams, I soar, untethered, unchained,
Where love's a rose, and heartache's but a stain.
Where freedom calls, my heart begins to strain.
The world outside beckons, a siren's sweet refrain,
A chance to start anew, to love again in vain.
In sunlight's haze, I stare beyond the pane.
Pictures of life are so blurry looking through the lens of a wet pane
Wind fills it with all its fury heavy; driving me today a cold rain
It howls with a strength; if only I could use the screen as a harnessing strain
But instead, I run from it just as a minnow swims towards a seine
It's tailwinds inflicted untold fear as they razed the central plane
There's life in this sky, elixir; as the Tulips push out of the soil this week, they can not restrain
Sunshine will fall again just as water always finds a way to drain
Such guilt seeing all the colors of the world unfold, it hurts so badly that it was expensed by others' pain
Winter rains lover
the cold north wind
fought against the thought of warmth
in which we would embrace again.
It holds steadfast to the slow
beating of the window pane
drums loudly out thoughts
leaving us numb.
Ice courses through veins
long forgotten canals
whom once held court for promises
of love stricken stars
that fell from above.
Silence is left shouting
deaf tones
of moments
long held to endless night
shade
which we decided to get drunk on
and parade
through the death streets of our ancestors
dancing dreams
with them forever on...
...movements to the song.
the air is the dust
the air is the mass
the dust is the pane
the pane is the mass
the pane is the air of dust
the pane is the air of mass
mass is a pane of mass
the air is the chemical
the air is the pane
a chemical is a pane of chemical
a chemical is a pane of air
a chemical is a chemical of mass
a dust of air is a dust of mass
a dust of air is a dust of chemical
air,pane,mass
dust,pane,mass
intelligent is a air of intelligent
intelligent is a mass of intelligent
a pane intelligent is a pane mass of intelligent
a pane intelligent is a pane air
dust is dust of a air intelligent
sandpaper savage today
buttermilk wavelength tomorrow
directions are like buffets in multidirectional earthquakes
yet and still i cherish the day
downward spiral clouded pepper today
scallops dipped in butter sauce tomorrow
arrows are like indecisive enthusiasts continuously banging their heads
yet and still i cherish the day
driving off of an embankment today
sucking nipples carelessly on a pillowtop mattress tomorrow
pathways are like emotional guessing games defiant to antiquated rules
yet and still i cherish the day
In between my drapes
my eye out the window
I guess I witness
the moonshine it's 11:00 p.m.
and as I sit in my living room
I look with mine eye and I see
the moonshine as I gaze
lunar shines
9/17/21
Written by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021
your life you can see through transparent like in glass
The sun tone skin burnt like brazen bronze brass
My life is broken like a picture on the table
My heart is hoping to be filled with love we rolling and my soul find itself stable
Who's am I
Where am I
Why am I
Life's transparent
Skin tattered and worn
Broken spirit
Wandering soul unfurls
Who's am I
Where am I
Why am I
Transparent body that is broken liken a pane of glass
8/5/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021
The store window pane..
Reflecting the bustling traffic and
A backdrop of sky and tree allowing
It all as nothing appearing as lights and
Honking..and stops avoiding catastrophic
Interruptions of movements dedicated to
Sky and tree...
The Shining Lights through window pane
Arching spectacle brilliancy
Capitalization overheated Exchange
Brightly shines the Sun
Arching spectacle brilliancy
Orbital glimpse of spiraling Lights
Brightly shines the Sun
Ever so shines ever so bright
Orbital glimpse of spiraling lights
Capitalizing overheated Exchange
Eversole shiny ever so bright
Shining Lights through the window pane
1/11/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2021
Water flows from the dam of life,
Not easy, but not all strife.
There is a point at which we die,
Lest we forget, not all goes awry.
Often, we denounce and scold,
As we pass from young to old.
Friends and family are to adore,
Before you or they are no more.
Love is like a pane of glass.
Held by two, it can endure.
If by one, too heavy a mass,
Alone not too sure.
Always in motion, never stable,
Never static, ever brittle.
Held a moment, barely able,
To withstand the noncommital.
Words you utter, tone of voice,
A grimace, smile, or rolling eye.
Words and deeds are your choice,
Be they honey or some lye.
Every thought or smile,
Frown or furrow can beguile,
And must pass first this test:
Is it really for the best?
If the pane glass should drop,
It will chip, crack or shatter.
Damage you cannot stop,
Lasting memory does matter.
Each cycle does grow short,
The glass ever more frail.
Until that one last retort,
You’ve had the final rail.
You get no second chance,
To name what really mattered.
Gone forever, that romance,
The pane of glass, has shattered.
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