Horn Music
In the late forties and middle fifties
horn music and military marches tunes
were often parlayed in the town's park
and we lived nearby and bore the brunt
of this noisy music
to complain was not easy as the music
was seen as an expression of freedom
chasing the German army out of our
cherished country, admittingly with
the help of the Russian army, the
British took the credit
Horn music is simply horrible to enjoy
the noise one has to be unmusical
one would think the noise had stopped
with the arrival of modernity, rock and roll
and Elvis Priestly, but no
I was invited in the eighties to read a poem
in Oslo. When my turn came to read
the horn orchestra struck up.
The Sea Glass Fifth Aquarius,
a glass menagerie,
as their bios serenade us,
sea views anemone.
I swarm betwixt a Sea of Glass,
a can of worms opened,
we dove had fluttered peace a chance,
debate and hook defend.
Dolphins parlayed high nibs false skies,
the Sea Glass crample them,
their dimpled snout closer to eyes,
in blues abyss, they swam.
Little shop around four corners,
the which is of Sea Glass,
Stew astir perpendiculars,
Suze, Miche, Cher, picturesque.
Sea Glass, Scottish accents; you rain,
ode Yellow River,
shove all our rights tad off the lane,
bowl poetry Super.
Dancing through
the mine field
deftness parlayed
Destruction incumbent
the future
in play
Each step risks a lifetime
if right
turns to wrong
Tomorrow uncertain
when short
—calls for long
(Dreamsleep: November, 2023)
Poets of convenience
reality to sway
A stain that lasts forever
excuses not parlayed
“Thou Shalt Not Kill” long spoken
ancient law upon the land
Religious, secular, or more’ bound
the truth has one command
A billion screaming babies
by curettes scraped away
As smug self-righteous killers
demand to have their way
The pathway to eternity
lined with voices put to death
“Thou Shalt Not Kill” their epitaph
—damning your last breath
(St. Josephs University: September, 1972)
I was dead laid out buried in my sins
O' paramount the burden take out the thorn in my side
And do so my Lord my God take also the boulder there in my eye
Mercies ever please My God and gifted me thine devine mercies Grace
Forgiven you me of all my mistakes
Yet and yet there you were Jesus you have forgiven me of all my sins
Relevance is the evidence for the position that I've made those sins I parlayed and now and forever forgiven a confess my mess I have come through the test
Mercy's ever please my God and gifted me by Divine Mercy's Grace
Father thank you for giving me for I just want to see your name and peace
9/13/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021
The canvas there was empty
Life’s paint was in the bowl
The future was before me
But I couldn’t foresee my role.
Events engulfed my being
Time-stamped as they passed
Life began to assimilate
As Life’s Paint was there amassed
The level rose slowly
As the bowl began to fill
The Events Brush dipped in
Painting its’ own free will.
Dark hues show a tragedy
Bright ones: Joy displayed
Spread upon my canvas
My Life’s Paints there parlayed.
I gaze now at my canvas
And know as I look back
In this Life, the final brushstroke
Is always painted … black.
A little diddle time
To write loathsome rhyme
Restarts your sensing fine
Some dig a mine to cipher
Parlayed a broken cause
You stumbled on my clause
Dement recusing paused
Tears on your wishing wiper
Another line you cry?
We breathe a final sigh
An aging lullaby
From diapered to a diaper
The atmosphere killed, but moisture came from rock,
I did not judge this sinner’s block ravishing, just clock,
No stripes inside to ease away the pain, despair, hock,
Wires to traverse those structures not according, shock.
Did the eclipse light a fire within the heart, point stayed?
Or was Einstein there to fan and place, unaffecting okayed?
Did Steve Davis snooker the lass and the said, delayed?
And could decades set the wrong aright, deep parlayed?
Science will cure the Coronavirus without question, doubt,
Keep washing your hands, rational thought counts stout,
Stay away from other people to reduce your chances out,
Reason is in rationality, of human principles - values count.
Parlayed about a twist of fate
His shredded character remains
All sought to burn and swiftly end
Yet he persists from autoclave
Turning down a meaningless debate
Sarcastic tongue with wily pen
Smooths the path, a wake revered
So few achieve his place of Zen
Mama if I'd known you're gonna die
I would have done, better
Daddy if I'd known that you would have cry
I would have done better
and now I'm so sorry, sorry I've did obeyed
As my minds trappings parlayed
I would have done better
If I had known
4/24/18
written words by James Edward Lee Sr.
Copyright © 2018
He parlayed his handsome,
Against her soft assets.
He saw her and she raised him.
Both folded, spent.
He, a sure bet.
She, a wild gamble.
Together, a beautiful transaction.
You walk around,
felling like you're above the law
Shielded by family immunity
Get disorderly when you paint the town,
brawling, hitting people in the jaw
Yet you're called a pillar of the community
You lack basic people skills,
heredity always handed everything to you
A silver spoon fed spoiled brat
Never had to pay your own bills,
you said that's what little people like us do
Society traps don't catch aristocratic rats
Tapped into the trust fund
when you turned twenty one
Such is the privileged life of a senator's son
Picked up three DUI's,
and a couple of solicitation violations
Even got caught with an unregistered gun
No charges ever stuck with you,
a Teflon man through and through
Parlayed your inheritance into racketeering too
But you don't care, you're ruthless like your pa ...
taking other people's money is what excites you
Extorting at every opportunity
You sneer at judges with impunity,
'cause you own more suits and uniforms colored blue
And you love being called Big Daddy's little outlaw
I suspect there are many things I’ll never know
Mind of God in my mind truly such a huge part,
Those who think that they understand Bible’s intent
Just prove vanity’s much of the court jester’s art.
Simply visualize three-year-old driving toy car
Who can’t even imagine a “there” to go “to,”
Who can’t really distinguish a sidewalk from lawn,
Gets confused when the grass bogs him down and he’s through.
Or the lover who thinks love is all that he is,
Unaware that love can’t be saved, only parlayed
Or the teacher who thinks that he must teach success
When a man’s greatest triumph is failure displayed.
Let us bask in humility all of our lives
For in models not truth is our true worth expressed
Every theorem is poetry from mind of man,
Where the poet is king and all kings are undressed.
Brian Johnston
September 25, 2016
1799 c.e.
Invading the privacy of Egypt’s estate,
Napolean and troops on their tippy toes,
Sweetly snatching the Rosetta Stone.
Turning it over cartouche style,
Lusting to surround Josephine, in battle.
Their royal names forevermore, amore…
Jean-Francois Champollion joined the duo in bed.
His hands glided, over three parallel scripts –
Hyroglyphic, demotic, and Greek; translation exotic
1978 c.e.
Princess Leia, a 3-D hero hologram
Parlayed with charming communication
She held a saint and a rogue in her sultry hands
Present Day in the bedroom of his royal highness
Egyptian tomb exhumed, enlightened, laser projected -
No protection from the spirit of matrimonial melee.
Dutifully terrified, damsel in distress; holographic mistake.
IT CAME TO ME ONE DAY
IT came to me one day
a silent moment parlayed
with shudder-awakened
i was more than 'me'
a pure disgust
of human physicality
i screamed at the meat
which encased immortality
and bit my tongue thinking
it was infestation within me!
OH the horror of living
without Divine Presence at all
What separation that Gulf of Sin!
To sleep i fell and resumed life.
:: ~~ ::
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