A man made out of dust/ dirt and clay;
Comes not now through the womb;
His awaited anointed place space;
His entrance through the womb;
From grace, to faith, to space place the womb into a room;
First eternity with the Father, Elohim;
Now spirit birth into a flesh a vessel of mankind;
Concurring energies graced, to faith, in space into womb-man;
God man and womb-man jointly co create;
Humans
9/2/26
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2026©
God placed you on that top shelf
for a reason
know your value doesn't shrink
and you're not here to always be pleasing
don't ever water yourself down
and don't ever dim your light
you're not here to make others comfortable
nor settle for less in life
just because some are not willing
to climb up to reach your star
just know the right people will always rise up
to meet you where you are
God placed you on that top shelf
because you're a child of the King
you're precious, you're royalty, you're an empress
and yes, you are a queen
for to be in your presence is a privilege
and people need to understand
that you function on a higher plane
and on integrity you firmly stand
God placed you on that top shelf
because you move with finesse
you're one of one and not one of many
you're a cut above the rest
feathers found - find themselves remembering his wife
The Lord of Psalm twenty-three is committed
He will finish what he started
God the Father is Able to finish what He started
Composed in beauty
The unity of your passion drives you
The legacy of your destiny
Demonstrates your pre-destination
Alleviating the production of your time
Your future was trapped in the beginning
But now it will be maximised in this generation, so
Remember that Jesus is committed to your future
The Lord of Psalm twenty-three is committed
He will finish what he started
God the Father is Able to finish what He started
Mark Frank
Copyright 2025
Music plays in myhead
Can see music cuz can'tread
Blood-shot eyes are blue
I see royalty when I'm wit you
Phantom heart
meaded at burst
Platted heart
at the upmost
MUSIC PLACED HEART SILENTS
Mine ears are on a diet
7/26/23
Written words James Edward Lee Sr.©2023
I was in a garden of space
and God energized me
He granted my first Grace
He planted me
An energized seed apart of His essence
a seed like Him energy
He sown me, thrown me to the grounds
God will finish what He started
Just wait and see
In His space in His sea of light
~
In a room, in the womb
My Father God placed a seed
Into the Earth and ground energy flourished
Collectively from space solidified being
My Father's spiritual physical side through me now
A seed into the ground
Earthen mother my Father's planted me
Into my mother in her garden, in her grounds
In her womb, God will finish what He started
~
Just wait and see
First imaged energy
Now impregnated fleshly a seed a new vessel
Made up of body, mind and soul
I'm going to grow into a baby and more
God will finish what he started
just wait and see
In His space and His sea of light--I'll be
1/14/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2023
Was the Christmas tree left?
Dumped? Or gently placed?
No one knew, for elves are sneaky.
They wanted the animals to wonder.
The owl flew down for a closer look.
The deer and the fox blinked at each other.
Could they maintain a civil air?
The rabbit hopped over to declare “placed”.
Raccoon kept silent, looking at the pretty decorations.
If they needed to un-decorate it, he would be their pigeon.
The elves giggled, reading the animals’ thoughts.
“Get back up here!” Santa declared over their walkie-talkie.
This land is played out on a plain bible.
Nightlights smear a frigid fog, the fumes of idling cars.
A flat-lined wind plies its wheezy bellows through burrowing bones,
smothers the distance, douses the glint of rural glimmers.
Knuckled chills know how to fang a wrist,
nip tender tongues, freeze the rivers run.
Here in the burbs the lights of bistros cannot withstand
their own desolate backyards. A scree heap of black curb
is not crossed by the lightly shod but must be booted-in and leveled.
At such times, winter lends a shivering hand
at its own burial. We become priests all frocked in fleece,
heads bowed or we howl a tune to a faceless moon.
Good or gone to the bad, we are there, in Ohio, anywhere.
Why? Are you here;
Molded clay with a soul;
You're living by the breath of God;
Plants and animals do not have what we have;
And yet we all share the hands of a living God ;
He who makes us what and Who We Are ;
He who made the universe and the Stars ;
And He plan it everywhere every will !
He instills Who we are;
Are you I am a living soul?
4/18/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021
Once, there was a boy who loved animals,
every kind of animal:
it didn't matter; he loved them all!
He had rabbits, pigeons, hamsters, and a raccoon.
The boy kept them well-fed,
cleaned their cages every day
making sure they were happy:
for that made him happy, too.
One day, he was watching the news
and saw children taken from their mothers;
by the border patrol, and placed in cages.
He saw their misery and heard their cries.
They were not happy in their cages:
and he cried, too.
He loved his pets:
and yet, he also kept them in cages.
Now he realized they weren't happy at all:
for like people, they want to live free.
And so, he released all his animals
to an animal sanctuary, and destroyed their cages.
"One doesn't cage what one loves."
With eyelashes fluttering, irises caught in a blink,
those windows of yours are opening and closing
like a metronome ticking time to symphonies played.
Within flesh are entrances cradling a floor to nowhere,
leading to a somewhere hidden to all but you. Pebbles
could be placed upon freckles to map out a path; bundles
of autumnal leaves, crunching and burnt amber, could form
steps upon the arch of your nose. Perhaps swimming against tears
upstream, leaping with rainbow salmon, I might reach the
precipice of your eyes. I could scale down branches bowing, from
fringe and eyebrows, lowering myself onto your golden lids.
Those doorways to nowhere, to somewhere, to anywhere, see
the future ebb and flow into a momentary present, with
visions hidden under a lock-and-key past. Those eyes of yours
I could dive into, like gravity plucking fruit from a vine.
Compassion Within Us, Placed By Divine Hands
Compassion, weakness or a curse
or expression of mercy's heart,
I denying Love, which is worse
than savagery this world imparts
became blind in my silent pains
an enigma, lost, out of touch
treasuring my ill-gotten gains
my lies held firm, my needed crutch.
In ignorance racing along
my repentant soul yet cried out
I running from world's teeming throngs
destiny's hand, life turned about
compassion's touch, came not too late
*I am the master of my fate.*
Written 3rd February 5th, 2020
For famous poetic lines 2 poetry contest sponsored by Silent One.
The ending line in this new sonnet: **I am the master of my fate.**
is in reference to the line chosen:
"I am the master of my fate" - written by William Ernest Henley
Credit given to William Ernest Henley for his fine verse and the poetry
and gift of power and imaginative verse it inspired.
Literally placed bush flowers in his hair,
He figuratively placed flowers in my hair.
Methodical giggles all around;
Whilst shaking prized petals down.
Downwards spiralling to the ground
Now sediments of floral mound
The clock it ceased forevermore
When love was such and sin was spore.
Braving and craving hence with wreath
All those flowers from beneath
Literally placed a wreath on his head
For such a king I breathed to bed.
The vigil
is too late to be
vigilant
If there were no winners
would the world be full of losers
or would every one be equal
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