Darling you’re a picture show
In the albums we possess
Are you resting there? I know
That you weren’t keen to rest
Couldn’t you somehow remind
What the spirits are about
Give a tip I fail to find
Deep within me, and without
Darling it’s the autumn wind
Blowing here, and leaves are flying
Unprepared for winter’s stint
Weeds and grass are slowly dying
With the first stroke of the frost
Summer ends, and we get older
Though we aren’t as old, as lost
In the eye of the beholder..
August 28
Do you know about him
The little tall man
Living in the brown street
His lips are hard
Like where charcoal is made
He feels high more than alcohol
And always scorn his wild hair
Do you know about the natural leaf
That scorned him
For the first time
He feels his lips
With a sedative herb
And forms a circle in his skin
There are dirts
Waiting to be heaped away
He picks them up by chance
Along with a clipper
He moves with the cloud
Seeing double shadows on the way
Laughing at him
Finally at a waste bin spot
The dirts are abandoned
He picks up the clipper
This is the best place for hair cut
He sits loving the moment
While passersby share laughters
My grandmother passed on her untarnished eight bangles to my mother,
My mother passed on the same exquisite bangles to me,
I asked my daughter when she got married “do you want these bangles?”
She said “These are pretty, but too tiny for me - I won’t be able to wear them.”
The jeweller had a suggestion-
After all, they are all precious metals! Twenty-four carat!
He turned those unadulterated gold into an elegant necklace.
My heart sank parting with those ornate pieces,
which connected me with the women,
who paved my way so that
I did not have to live the life they did.
Now those bangles shine only on a picture of me in a wedding dress!
Your picture is still in the same place
There on the stand beside my bed
There are so many memories of you
That will forever be fresh in my head
Tonight I can't sleep and as I lay here
I find myself staring at your picture
That familiar pain is building strength
There's been plenty of suffering to endure
But I don't mind the pain it causes
I believe that it's beneficial for me
It plays the roll of some reminder
So I never forget what we used to be
All the love I gladly gave to you
Was without a doubt the best I had
I don't understand how our love
Didn't last and turned out so bad
After all these years I still love you
Through the pain of my heart break
My love for you has never wavered
It's pure and true nothing at all fake
He is not the brightest of guys
alone he could not survive
If he counts to twenty two
he removes both his shoes
Twenty he can count but ask for a hand
he needs more digits to understand
Draw a picture for Richard
Draw a picture for Richard
His name is Nick
but gets called a Dick
Draw a picture for Richard
He doesn't mean to be impolite
a coward he avoids all fights
He works all week but never gets paid
cause he is at the wrong place everyday
He gets fifty ballots in the mail
he votes each one no big deal
If they send them to him he votes to win
but it's last election that snail mail
Draw a picture for Richard
Draw a picture for Richard
His name is Nick
but gets called a Dick
Draw a picture for Richard.
I found a picture of you
From years ago
Sitting in my desk in a drawer.
I looked into the photo’s eyes
So young and innocent
So eager and bright.
Those eyes carried no burden
From paying monthly bills
When the money ran out.
Those eyes showed no pain
From burying your father last spring.
But those eyes also carried no excitement
And anxiety of caring
For our young children,
The burden of bandaging their knees,
Holding them when they cried,
And the pride of teaching
Them to read.
Your eyes in the photo
Were neither filled
With the joy
Of holding our newborn
Granddaughter.
Another little person to love,
Another reason to serve our son
And daughter-in-law.
Your real eyes shine with
Radiance, a completeness
Only formed from years
Of overcoming the ups and downs of life.
Experience and shared wisdom
Look great in your eyes.
First published in Big Question Literary Arts Magazine, 2026, all rights reserved
What is harder, the border, the pictures
or the brightness of light and dark pieces?
It is a mishmash, sordid assortment of
escapism, scrutinized under illumination.
Piece by piece, I fall to pieces, pick them up,
scatter them to my mind’s wind, hem and haw
over the nuances; why do I torture myself so?
In the vice of the big picture - resounding parks.
Two canvas frames, two boxes, tepid waters,
the need to complete, competing only with
me, myself and I. Now, I see everything in
tabs and blanks, even as I count sheep.
Even as I watch t.v., the pixels penetrate my eye,
portion into die-cuts. Dioxyribonucleic acid flesh -
are we pixelated…like paper doll cut-outs with
wardrobe and accessories, my own Barbie palace?
Soon, I will finish this 27 by 20 preoccupation.
With a stethoscope and head mirror, examine
each rectangle - 63 squares; my hope - not
one morsel is lost, pieces of my life complete.
Black crows call to me
On snowy, barren branches
Winter has arrived.
It is cold and dark
And the breezes are hollow
And the ground is damp.
The moonlight is dim
Midnight seems eternal here
No lamps are in sight.
I hold my warm breath
I snap the perfect picture
Saved in a haiku.
This is beautiful
Only I am out of place
Thanks for having me,
Mother of nature.
the joy of seeing my son's smile and hearing his laughter when I take his picture
When the day is falling over
And a crescent moon peeps through
I am looking towards Dover
It is not too far from you
There is not a sign of cloud
In the muted blue of sky
It’s a picture without sound
Breathing softly drifts on by
And I see white cliffs of Dover
Though farsighted I am not
Hear the whirring of your mower
What a hearing I’ve got
In the quiet of a moment
In the glow of fading blue
I can sense more than I wanted
Except that I can’t see you.
A picture can make me feel, like I am there with you, making me feel you near.
Love your picture feels so real, it makes me laugh and feel alive, like a movie that is in real time.
Baby I love your picture, it makes me feel so special, lifting me to a love sensation, giving me love glitteration.
Love your picture with that smile, it makes me feel so high, you know just what to do, your making all my moments feel so true.
Baby I love your picture, it makes me feel so special, lifting me to a love sensation, giving me love glitteration.
Your picture is my favorite, it brings so much joy, making moments feel like so bliss, makes me want to kiss.
Baby I love your picture, it makes me feel so special, lifting me to a love sensation, giving me love glitteration.
Love like yours is so special, like a day with a special reason, leaving me with memories that last forever in my heart.
Love you baby for all your love, you make me want to kiss your picture, and keep it close forever and ever you are in my heart.
deep carmel brown
big blue-brown eyes
chocolate
i whom am your heart beating,
i be the eyes sight beauty you're seeing
deep carmel brown
big blue-brown eyes
chocolate
Umber, Cedar, Cinnamon, Tawny Gold,
Hickory, Carob, Mocha, Brunette
cornerstone midst the area being
full soft big lips, just kiss
a picture of magnitude
5/18/26
Witten words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2026©
The soft burden of your kiss, it’s a bliss
Bittersweet aftertaste, still it stays
Frozen faces of us, smiling masks
Stuck in time with our glasses of wine
Picture fades - but somehow it remains..
For a minute; maybe less
For to inspect.
Only to fade.
What is thought-made.
Life; as a watercolour.
Picture-perfect.
No, mind-artist;
Not yet. Isled! Kisst!
So many blank stares
Who cares
So many empty shells
Hell’s bells
So full of hatred
Alien-rated
So strung out on dope
Couldn’t cope
Take a picture
Hung by a rope
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