White Heat...White Hot
Night Heat...Night Light
Nice Seat!...Red Hot!
Red Heat!...Fight Night!
A gentle pink mist
A low blue haze
Purple horizons
A light refreshing breeze...
The red heat subsides
The tall trees sigh
Beneath the sunburnt september skies.
The pastures relax
The flowers close up to sleep
The last songs of the day
Are sung by avian creatures
Like a soothing lullaby
As the sun waves bye bye
Low in the sunburnt september skies.
The land enjoys its slumber
As do lives of unknown number,
A tranquility only Earth knows...
This month every night
So far, the stars
twinkle with delight.
Cooled are the sunburnt september skies.
Fifty-year old pastor Archibald
And already the vessel is bald
Now cold not red heat would the priest scald;
Now 'irritable'when he is called...
For twenty years now A Pastor:
Would not sit on chairs denied castor;
Claims a pastor:Better Doctor,
Against every demon: Victor
Before ordination shooting star,
No speeding sprinter was faster,
His knowledge of the game vaster;
So much the case that he was master
But right now caged up by Arthritis,
Real blows exchanging with Mastitis
A time-and- again Hepatitis...
It has been growing anxieties.
teeth bared
fierce snarled
claws sharp
deep scarp
maw clenched
fur drenched
eyes aimed
she claimed
mount tensed
head sensed
red heat
conceit
snug haze
new ways
day's gray
like clay
harsh frost
gas cost
weak knees
feet freeze
night walk
knee chock
cow-poke
now broke
brawl play
war sway
rope toy
stop ploy
vast flop
may drop
joy lust
no trust
clay earth
pain birth
tides beat
pale feet
Written: November 27, 2022
A Brian Strand Premiere No 53 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Forecast
raise mast
Air mass
eat grass
Storm front
bear brunt
Blue skies
time flies
Dark clouds
dull crowds
Wet spell
from hell
Sunshine
divine
Strong gust
disgust
Gale force
morose
Lightning
blighting
Thunder
blunder
Spring tide
I cried
Rainbow
eye glow
Wide trough
chest cough
Red heat
conceit
Warm haze
delays
Halos
moon rose
Black ice
not nice
Snowdrift
I’m miffed
Dewdrops
on copse
Trade wind
rescind
Cyclone
Chills bone
Blind fog
Agog
Grey mist
delist
Deep freeze
disease
Fresh spring
in thing
Summer
Hummer
Autumn’s
doldrums
Winter’s
Cinders
Sharp frost
fuel cost
Hailstones
bleak groans
Ground sleet
at feet
Graupel
rural
Rainfall
please stall
Greenhouse
must douse
The heat of your verbatim lashes at my hide
Red heat surfaces with the morning light
Serenades of moans and breathless catcalls
Inhuman indecent oblivious to the voyeurs
Hidden by drapes and nostalgia
Morning shower washes the scent away
But the sheets remain for the nights rebel
Stage two recall we shall join again
Never ending taste dripping from my lips
Melted within your arms entangled in your loins.
Down beat
Delete
Mistrust
All bust
Mesquite
Mincemeat
Charge sheet
Complete
Red heat
Concrete
Timesheet
to-beat
Upbeat
Un sweet
puffed wheat
dutch treat
off beat
spreadsheet ?
8/13/18
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.©2018
Her eyes are warning flags
Especially when they're smiling
They hold me intensely like pain inside her teardrops
And I'm hanging on to the cliffs of their waterfall
Because I don't ever want to see her cry
These pins and needles of brittle air I breath around her
Sew the torn shreds of my soul into a love supreme
She's the warm, soft ball of thread that remains
Whenever she takes my breath away
Because I need somebody to die for
Her heart's a roaring dragon's den
Glowing a love so pure and golden
For just an ounce she might be willing to share
I'll be the red heat in her conflagration
Just to feel her rush through my bloodstream
ON THE WINGS OF WINTER
From the depth of autumn’s fallen horizon
Winter has come flying on its heavy wings
Sky can no longer hold the clouds frozen
Snow falls wafting as the chill wind sings.
Tears of my flowing eyes congealed in cold
Fly on wings of winter as wave of snowflakes
Carrying the broken heart in the memory old
Unsure, to reach loving arms, how long it takes.
An inferno blazes the tree of life, your essence
On the wings of winter the flame flies away
Smoldering embers radiate red heat intense
Ashes pile up to remember in shades of grey.
The snowflakes of my cold love made of tears
Fall silently on smoky morning like night’s dew
Disappear in the hot embrace of your embers
My dream to get consumed by you comes true.
December 31, 2017.
Time present will be time yesterday
Time present will lead to time tomorrow
While standing on the one-time-only bridge
Can we afford to look the other way
No way
Now that time is in the pink hug
Melting red heat in my fountain
How come you raise past and future
In spite of the heavenly bliss we reap
No way
The tree last Tuesday was uprooted
Two explosions at Brussels Airport
Now is the time for relief and restoration
No blaming and counter blaming now
No way
The farmer sows seed in the spring sun
Seeds of sweet hope seeds of blue frames
Come what may rain or mayhem
Can he leave his golden present
No way
Yesterday is to commemorate
Tomorrow is to be shaped out
Out of what we dream and do today
We must not delay to pave the way
No way
Any love that I can pour on you
Any poem I can write with dew
Any metaphor I can coin anew
I shall not defer for the mystery of tomorrow
No way
________________________________________________________
March26, 2016
Red or Blue it's still hot
In the red heat there is blue
In the blue heat there is red
Could be a reddish blue
Could be a bluish red
It is still hot.
He is her husband
She is his wife
Both are still One
They are Man and Wife.
Those from the islands
consider it a feat
to partake of this meat.
They fry it for breakfast
and the day's not complete
unless it's stirred into soups
simmered to red heat.
(Refrain)
Not even Charlton Heston
would touch that intestine.
A Chinese yam
an old picnic ham
All take a front seat
to that pink, greasy meat.
A preliminary exam
of that container of spam
reveals the discrete
use of waste meat.
Bowels and snouts
the back of the lap
mixed with chassis lube
and other such crap.
Teats, and feet
stuff off the street
compound the most part
of that horrible meat.
{Refrain)
Yes, ma'am
We are serving spam
We are under the orders
of Uncle Sam.
We're conserving best cuts
by eating the guts and
conserving resources
by grinding up horses
Her soul presence, it made me weep
Everything about her, her smile, her physique
It's like she has her own technique
Not 2 critique but her technique is so unique
her presence is heartfelt, it made me weak
A day without her seemed so incomplete
Tweet Tweet sweet defeat over me
This love, the red heat, burned into concrete
I've been Love-Stricken by a Queen
She's like something I've never never seen
She has the power 2 make me forget everything
I've been struck by love, I cant even think
Finally I realize, were we meant 2 be, or were
we a thought that GOD thought of Mistakenly
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