w. a. i. t. i. n. g.
nights diss ~~
OLve
days
s l u m B er
2 wake
p
resources hop u
and
D
O
W
N
[ = ] voices send pictured messages { O¥+$ }
layers f
a
L
L
**
^
dot still •
we D
A N
C E
c h a n t + drin
K
STOP •______ to relearn
! lessons not perfect
ED
twilight calls bones
vacant
SLOT or
SWOT or
SLIT
slip t h r o u gh
q u i c k l y
s p a C I o U S
lochness
LAKE
O~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~O
I am a wounded man who has lost all belief!
The Grim Reaper will soon be coming like a thief!
{The fickle sickle of a pestering Jester}
Give me Nepenthe that I may forget my grief,
And relearn to be joyous in this life so brief!
Make me drink this nectar, may I find some relief!
Maybe I'll change my mind and shed my unbelief,
Or find my lost hope and turn over a new leaf!
This cup of forgetfulness will now become chief
In restoring my faith, I'll wipe my disbelief!
Give me Nepenthe that I may forget my grief,
And relearn to be joyous in this life so brief!
seeing what we miss
supernatural babies
more psychic than us
many will relearn
taught reality is wrong
ignoring their eyes
some retain their gifts
believing in what they see
psychic mediums
Have you ever learnt to love the right way;
Have you been shown the truth of what to say;
I stand remorse, been given another chance,
midst a different choice from I AM
I've been given a chance to love
Love
Love again
Music playing in my soul
I crave a beating heart to embrace
I've been given another chance
I 've been given a chance to love
Love
Love, Love all over again
I have relearn to love the right way spiritually Agape;
I have you been shown the truth of what to say, I've prayed spiritually Agape;
I stand remorse, been given another chance, to spiritually Agape
I 've been given a chance to love
Love
Love, Love all over again
midst a different choice from I AM
9/27/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2024©
Here is my best advice
and maybe the only one I have
because I believe some people need this one
FIND YOUR TRIBE
it may not have been your family of origin
that is okay
Do not feel guilty about that
Do yourself a favor
Do what you love to do
Go where you love to go
Find people with whom you LOVE to hang out!
FIND YOUR TRIBE
they are out there
Waiting for you
Do not feel guilty about it
Go and find them, so you can
relearn how to be you.
I wanted to sit and write this day
of some feelings I had this morn,
Of the many Sisters I've misjudged
and left all forlorn,
I know that there is greatness
in every sisters life, there are heroes'
in their duties, as a mother and a wife,
For each untold story, faith will I put in its place,
and turn the cheek when confronted,
and begin to set my pace,
A step at a time I'll slowly go and offer in everyway
My deepest love and earned respect,
To those I touch today,
in times when I am not
feeling well and my mood may take a turn,
I will open my book, and read this poem,
a lesson to relearn.
Can we cease from shouting at each other?
Can we relearn the ability to respect?
Can we not have a discussion with dignity?
Can we sit at the table of brotherhood and talk?
Can we not listen and evaluate the opinions of others?
In the public arena, especially politics and religion,
our present seeds of speech will only grow bitter herbs.
It is vital that we do better. Our children are watching.
In my country, I hear the dreadful and tremoring sounds,
filled with undisciplined emotions and built-up anger.
I feel tension I've not known before, wanting to quake.
I pray that we all will call a 'time-out' and take a break.
022824PS
I feel so sad to be a child of my home
It sounds ungrateful when moaning on a throne
but I reallly am trapped in a heaven I don't belong
I can' t control it. sadness floods but I missed the ark
I am struggling to breath even where the air is so clean
I am starving even when my stomach is full to a fault
I am dying to live, really there is no way home
I am stuck in a paradise for everyone but my soul
Land of milk and honey but I am allergic to both
I just want to be on my own
Inspire myself, learn and grow
relearn romance and be proud of the life I chose
Be who I am without angels on my door
I feel so sad I am tired and worn.
It is so sad to be a 30 year old boy living at home
("To the Bone", 2018, original encaustic)
Down to the Bone
Over and over
Up and down
Back-and-forth
Around and ‘round
It’s always learning the same lesson.
Learning it again
And again.
Like a species,
An individual
With amnesia
We cycle around
Experiencing
To rediscover
Yet again
What we’ve always known
Not in a rut, but
In a spiral.
And each time ‘round
As we relearn the old,
We learn it with a new twist
Twist of the coil
Which inevitably
In time
Is worn out
In exhaustion, worn
Down to the bone
To a stub
A frayed knot
A bit of tattered fabric
That once supported
Bound and
Veiled the sacred
In a mystery,
But now
Leaves it
Revealed
In stark simplicity.
(10/5/23)
I want to say something about cursive writing (this might seem random).
I’ve seen articles saying that cursive writing is a “dead art,” that computers have destined it for oblivion and questioning whether cursive writing should be taught in schools now-a-days.
But if you plan to go to college - relearn it and practice it, because you’ll need it.
Random hot fact. The first time you have to handwrite a multiple-question essay test - where each answer requires five hundred to a thousand words (a written page) - handwriting, in block letters, is unsustainable.
Your hand will literally cramp up - dog, you’ll suffer, your essays will suffer and so will your grade.
Writing in cursive is faster than block lettering and with a little practice, it’s effortless.
My sister told me this once, and this morning, as I watched other students, one third of the way into our essay test, grimacing and flexing their aching hands - I just smiled to myself.
Yeah, you can thank me later.
AS I GO ABOUT MY BUSINESS
As I go about my business, dazed by
The stultifying immediacy of it all,
How can I reach out to what I once had
Before the great sadness overwhelmed me
In its grey cloud? Do I wait patiently,
Trusting the morning sun will melt
The frozen wastes, covering the truth
Of my natural landscape? I believe I have
No choice but to linger in the foothills,
As I relearn the ways of inner peace
In the cold frame of inexorable time.
I have my hands tight-fisted to protect myself;
Perhaps I need to open them out
To new possibilities where I can see
That kindness easily draws within,
Embracing the broken heart,
And shows that love can be rekindled.
Fly me to the Moon
I'm nearly weightless
Let me sing unto the stars
Soon I'll not be mate-less
Watch me dance the Milky Way
as I relearn how to play
Hop on an interstellar flight ~
Marvel at the beams of light
I searched only to find,
days more survived,
th'n wooed by life,
asking the heavens why.
Her name held a promised vow..
likened to a solitary bell,
from tall steeple's climb,
oh, how far I fell..
for one called Michelle.
I'll meet you in starlight again..
if rightful universe is willing,
to lend a helping hand.
Maybe, just maybe,
if they hear me praying,
where winged angels go singing..
her laughing eyes still playing.
Night passes on,
awaiting tomorrow's dawn,
somewhere a lone bell still ringing,
where queen takes pawn.
Two lover's lips willing to relearn,
whispered in a wishing well,
softest voice' heralding a return,
the one called Michelle..
Learn without learning
to unlearn,
it's dangerous...
it's living
without knowing why...
because illiterate
is that one
who learned to read and write,
but unlearn to relearn... !
Need we walk again this thorny path
Winding through all our past lives,
Picking our way gingerly through
The broken pieces of unrealized dreams?
Must we learn and relearn and relearn
The painful lessons whose acid tests
We thought we had conquered
So many times before, but then forgot?
Will we round another bend, convinced
In our closed and locked minds that we,
And only we, know the truth,
Only to find ourselves again at the start,
Retracing the same painful track
That leads backward into the maze of
Outdated credos and philosophies
That have failed so many times before?
How many must suffer our ignorance?
How many thousands more must die
Before we wake from the nightmare
That holds the world in its feverish grip?
Is it possible for us to crack open the mold
And allow ourselves to fight the dogmas
That keep us trapped in a this
Never ending circle of failure?
Can we do it in time, or are we doomed
To continue on our road to destruction?
Related Poems