He was a charming gentleman and a much liked Prime Minister,
But suddenly insults hurled by the score, some hurtful, some sinister,
Wow, public's choice looks like mickey mouse,
Should be polished, talk well, not slouch,
Burnham watch out, politicians can read you well within global perimeters.
You talk a lot Andy, say things people want to hear,
It upsets me when I hear slogans that merely smear,
Starmer’s ego, hurt with each jeer,
And Mrs Starmer who shed a tear,
Don’t be too smug, many in 10 downing, want your cheer.
as thoughts and ideas
MELDED
and experiences
define the perimeters
so my expectations
took form
to shape my decisions
GLISTENING
like oil on water –
a kaleidoscope
of possibilities …
when memories
S W I R L
finding a new truth –
my epiphany
flowing over
river s.t.o.n.e.s
worn smooth
by norms
yet
glistening with f l u I d d a w n s …
GATHERING
the past
in a m…i…s…t…y shawl
it comforts the future –
PROPITIATING
twilight sprites
discarding a false dusk …
guided by the light of iNyanga*
we define ourselves
amongst the many dawns
we shape
revealing truth…
Parental perimeters
Rules upon rules
Encage their helpless children
Who have no other life guides
Until the formative years are over
Children are parental pawns
Humans without power
Creatures with no rights
No say so, stuck in cages
At the mercy of parents who have all the power
I was born cradled inside your palm
within the perimeters of a safe haven
brought to life by loving silty fingers
Rose is what I heard you call me
staying true to my appellative name
I chose to bloom inside your heart
Many butterflies and bumblebees
sat on my flowerhead but only you
were the apple of my eye, dear heart
I was born to please you and only you
enclosed and surrounded I thrived,
like a rose, in a tangled mess of flowers.
Every day is a new adventure -
A new iota, a new gnosis -
Search not by the easy standard
But see through the eyes of genesis.
The more I learn, the more I love
What man before me has done.
It catapults my soul aloft;
I yearn for that higher plane.
Push back those old perimeters;
Notch in my brain a new wrinkle.
I forge pathways never traversed
And find my world bigger still.
At our illuminating service,
Whether at home or in the office,
Many preferring to it handle,
For worships reserving their candle…
You lose old torch for new one find cash:
The joy while in a dark space Glorious flash!
For brightness I’d save for battery,
No need in darkness one jittery…
No torch ever sends packing the night,
Only to perimeters give light,
With none ever liked for sights dim:
The chances of user smiling slim…
Not what you find with a younger child,
Rather a lantern like child not wild;
For fishing out people at night thieves,
Whom you’d hailed in the day time “Chief!”
A Paraphernalia of hunters,
In feared forests at night one saunters;
With torch easily locates target,
As some from bright flash escape forget…
The Not-Held by a security
His night shift stripped of sincerity.
Sometimes the
lines between
happiness and sorrow
love and hate
are thin (barely visible
to the naked heart) –
(a healthy heart
needing more than
a steady-beat
to be truly healthy) –
hearts not created
merely for pumping;
nor for expressing
exclusively within
the Body-visceral
while excluding
the vaster realm
of metaphysical being
(confined within a cage of bone)
(drowning in its own
oxygen rich fluids)
No, the heart truly
reaches out -- beyond
muscular attributes:
exceeds surface
perimeters of flesh
and blood –
transcending
the core-less Atheist
concept, absent a
spirit and soul
for greater inspiration…
refutes the materialist,
who sees only
superficial reality,
excluding the essence
of divine interaction
and miraculous manifestation –
The heart I speak
stretches the rulers
of medical Measures –
remains an enigma to science,
and by contrast -- the light
apposing dark-sided men
who reject Christian-unity daily
as did those prosecutors
of The Son of Man
who rejected Christ love
and His revelation
of Divine Source
and Holy Trinity….
Outside perimeters
OUT SIDE THE BOX
outside the brutal bag box
I'm bored broken box
I'm alone surrounded
by the populist
OUT SIDE THE BOX
outside the brilliant litter box
outside the bright brown box
outside bloody blue box
OUT SIDE THE BOX
outside the bumpy Black Box
beautiful busy and box
outside the box
OUTSIDE THE BOX
4/14/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2020
Written for project North Omaha Writers Group
(NOW)assignment March 10th 2020 Poetry assignment "Outside the Box"
I know not of iambic pentameter,
I don’t even know my own diameter.
And when I travel about a mile,
I don’t know how much is a kilometer.
So I might be slightly confused,
About all those words, that I just used.
But when I think about other people’s folly,
Mine seem so trivial, and melon collie.
So when you’re confused,
about what word to use,
Take a lesson from me,
and look it up, in the dic tion ary.
Princess Forever’s Frosted Lake entices aurora borealis to smile down
Embracing and warming her with mystical surrealism that shines on the lake.
She gives a gentle blow, to see her magic,
which dances past her lips, and her gown,
Delighting her in the form of ethereal star breaths,
with every single breath she will take.
The day retires quickly, not taking a glimpse or
a glimmer of the Frosted Lake’s turn.
Princess Forever will float her magical soul into
a scene unbearable to day creatures.
Her headband, encrusted with opals, emeralds,
and rubies, that flash like a fire’s burn,
reflect themselves as a part of the magic that
shows off the night’s enticing inner-active features.
Ancient songs float from the outside perimeters
of the mist, ensuring a magical delight.
The fourteen-point snow reindeer takes his place on the ice,
ready for his gorgeous night princess to alight.
They twirl around the ice in flares,
flipping and swirling magic until the beginnings of daylight.
When they once again have to return to dreamland,
letting the sun and day take over the fight.
It is difficult to believe others when they are saying something
that is beyond our comprehensive boundaries of truth.
It is hard to take them seriously when what they said they saw
or heard or felt is outside of our belief system.
We often do not believe in things outside our limited perimeters
even when we experience them ourselves.
Weirdly enough, sometimes we are able to convince ourselves
so well that what we saw or felt or observed was not real, so we
can retain our limited ideas about what can and will be.
So we keep this new knowledge hidden from our schemata, and
our conscious mind, which is a shame as it was sent by those who
thought we were wise enough to share.
I think more of Time
Outside The Bottle:
Oh, I know the song,
and the natural impulse
to capture joy
for eternity,
but more I sense
a greater loss
without the freedom…
For joy to remain joy
must be able to grow
beyond the perimeters
to explore and renew
itself outside
in the mysteries
for the greater love
has no broader fear
than the limiting lines
not to cross,
confining one to
possession--
Perhaps what I reject
about most Gods
and all demons,
is their need
to feed off
one another
WHAT KEEPS US WITHIN THE DOME,
WITHIN OUR KNOWN PERIMETERS AND PERSPECTIVES?
WE ARE FIGHTING FOR A CHANCE
TO SEE BEYOND THE GREAT BARRIER WALL.
WHAT IS OUR TRUE POTENTIAL?
SURELY NOT WORKING IN A TYPICAL JOB,
BARELY SURVIVING,
AND LIVING PAYCHECK TO PAYCHECK.
IF THE TRUTH IS ELUSIVE,
WHY ARE WE SO EASILY DECEIVED?
LET'S LOOK WITHIN OURSELVES,
FOR THE ANSWERS.
LET'S PEER BEYOND THE GREAT BARRIER WALL.
LET'S GO TO THE WORLD BEYOND THE POLES.
LET'S TRANSCEND THIS WORLD,
AND ITS CONTROLS.
LET'S TRAVEL, BEYOND THE DOME!
WRITTEN BY, CHADWICK ANDREW VINCENT
JULY 2018.
Cozy comfort he finds residing in his narrow world
Never veering from neighborhood he well knows,
Keeping to his familiar corners of adamant beliefs
Roaming within limits of truth he chooses to see.
His paths have been paved for his own two feet,
Restless he feels when strangers trespass his street
For long ago he decided who fits his myopic sight
Guarded by perimeters of his sacred boundaries.
He won't attempt to understand differing insights,
Never having been part of a scholarly discussion;
For he can't comprehend things new and unknown,
Afraid that new knowledge may pollute his mind.
When a tourist pays a beggar on a main city-street
He rushes to take a picture of beggar's empty mug,
Directing him to smile broadly on hungry stomach
So he can exhibit to his world, proof of lazy people.
Saddened he feels seeing a child cling to mother’s gut
As she lays dead amid ruins of a hapless war-zone.
He looks away mourning, seeing such dreadful scenes
But that would be the extent of his generous streak.
March 11, 2018
Placed first in contest 540 by Brian Strand
And then…
there were none.
Within the perimeters of the releasing of
angels, there was a glimpse of hope.
Outside the border of the letting-go of
demons, there was the sight of doubt.
Nothing could be found as no eye
could see the freedom both negotiated
and failed to agree upon.
There were clouds of ebony with
sunshine of medallion.
Each side carried a shimmer of remorse
yet a twinkle of forgiveness.
Before the beginning, came the end,
and after the end came creation of
good and evil.
Fortitude and cowardice became
a way of life.
Frailness and determination resolved
all conflict.
Inside the temple was where each side
fought for a chance to survive.
For there was never a chance beyond
leniency that the angels and demons
would coincide with harmony.
Each cancelled out each other and
then…
...there were none.
April 12, 2017
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