Renditions Poems

The abolishment of the church

Death of Church

One upon a time, my friend 
There was a church 
Crazy people of that instance 
Tried to forge the God 

They placed fears and conditions 
And occurred as well renditions 
They believed that humans saints
And that's why their instance ends 
They possessed the funds of money 
Were evil, pedophiles
They took money from the people
Fraudulating pseudorights

They implied they are Controller
For the moral for the race
They removed the best in humans 
And implied a lot of craze

Their reasoning was schizo 
Their motive was control
They imposed associations
So that sanity would fall



DUE DIVERSITY of the UNITED STATES it i sCONSTITUTINAL to remove cHURCH SCHOOL from HOMESCHOOLING list of allowed practices and produce a WARNING that CHRISTIAN sect organization my badly influence yourself and your children

Reformulation of sin

Reformulation of sin
Homeocentrism combatant
Sociopathy redefinition
Is for Intellect palatable

Apparently imposure of sin
Kills source collective the bias
Care you don't have to bear
Of neither the sides of compliance 

Rules parts of humans invent 
May not valid be for evaluation
Mortal the thus very sin
Is imposing your limitation

No one you are to demand 
Sets of your wrongly conditions
Thus no naive stupid banned
Reason for real renditions

No rule exist to demand 
Account for their opinion
Unless lethal targeter this
Compares the vote via dominion

The price of equality mass
Is mentally full degradation
That's why we those deny
We up for the double negation

Irrational mess we clean up
We strive for the logic brilliance
The sense Constitution conveys 
We guard judging words, Philly, Ness

This Lochness is fine the Ness
She is not some kind of mess
She is crispy like the chip
She lives very very deep

Iguana Orangutan
NATO backwards is OTAN
And the bat does guano
Kate does says all that NO NO


// Inspired y my favorite poem 
A Tale of the  Thirteenth floor  by Ogden Nash

If I had a Guitar

If I had a guitar and I knew how to play
I’d be on tour, playing music all loud and gay
I would have a fan base that would be yelling my name
None of my fine renditions would be the same
I would seriously pluck those strings in the fanciest way
if I had a guitar and I knew how to play

In a Pickle

being in a May-December relationship 
could test the boundaries of patience
like the football socks under a teenager’s bed
it does not age well

these relationships have unique challenges
the rehashed stories of ‘the good old days’
smell of figments of their imagination
as it contradicts with history lessons taught

they harp on about ‘songs with words’
ones people could dance to
with their cheesy renditions of songs
accompanying conga lines of yesteryear

unlike today’s noisy club music
and the ability to twerk
will score you a Grammy Award
the mobility challenged can’t compete

they’ve bequeathed us an unhabitable world
where we all are now in a pickle
forming conga lines at border posts
as we try to dance out of harm’s way

GOD LISTENS GRACES US HIS MOUTH SPEAKS BRINGS FORTH LIFE-

I see your smile
It embraces me
Tender earlobes listening
~
Holy-Wholly sweet lips speaking
Life
God’s mouth speaks life
~
His breaths in us
God listens graces us eyes vison
His Holy renditions

10/17/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr©2024

a change of state

A Change of State

Matter shifts through its states, threefold,
Solid, liquid, gas, stories untold.
Sometimes, I'm akin to such transitions,
Solid, firm, with structured renditions.
Yet futile it seems, this rigid guise,
A veneer to smother, where emotions arise.

Then liquid, I flow, adapt, adhere,
To circumstances, situations, unclear.
Letting all things effortlessly glide,
In this fluid state, I often reside.

But mostly, I find myself in the gas,
Invisible, yet present, in moments that pass.
In the air, but not quite seen,
Yet you require me, for reasons unseen.

Silent observer, I linger, aware,
Shifting my form, in the currents of air.
Yet, does the change hold any sway?
Am I the same, regardless of display?

A change of state, perhaps in vain,
For whether transformed or still the same,
I remain, steadfast, true to me,
In all my forms, eternally free.

Love Letters

"love letters"

as time moves I wonder my love letter to you
enveloped with a waltz and breathtaking ballad
it would reveal all telling the story of us
only for your promised heart to follow along
unveiled with everlasting slow dances for two
you eternally captured me since the dawning
setting tones for love letters waltzing through

still I wonder such whispers from you to me
yielding my heart as only your desire can
unleashed and uncovered with love's umbrella
opening the dance floor of all renditions
inviting emotions to softly surface and hold
enchanting secrets revealing how you feel
among leaving your scent identified through

evermore our written words reach the sky
allowing such sentiments to gently sway

SkyWatcher
11-01-23

Mine Heart Missions Vision-

	A strong song in mine heart
	profound ever so souls awareness starts

MINE HEART MISSIONS VISION-

	intense low-pitched high
	Sweet essence by N by
MINE HEART MISSIONS VISION-
•	
•	
         contralto bass apocalypse deep destruction
	alto thick mystifying grit end time revelation

MINE HEART MISSIONS VISION-

	inscrutable mysterious cryptical conditions

	recondite cryptic just short of mystic
	Devout renditions holy missions vision

MINE HEART MISSIONS VISION-

10/6/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2023©

Little Me

it's little me
I live in here
growing up I see
a life full of fear

how do I grow
doing this or that
how do I know
when I just fall flat

hello shorty
little blue eyed boy
you'll not make fourty
no mothers joy

the bully to beat
what do I do
join gang on the street
prejudice soon flew

it's little me
I live in here
growing up I see
a life full of fear

now an employers place
how far have I grown
being honest to their face
young tactless I am now known

it's little me
I live in here
growing up I see
a life full of fear

I stumble
I crash
I crumble
I thrash

then destiny's arrival
in the nick of time
she becomes my ALL
life's song now sublime

a couple of additions
more melodies to hear
some chorus renditions
and gone is the fear

it's little me
I live in here
grown up I see
life is not to fear

it's never too late
for something new
a lockdown fate
and a different view

something more
for little me
still not knowing the score
is rhyming insanity

it's little me
I live in here
grown up I see
we must persevere

in the tides of time
little me has now flown
just me and rhyme
in the twilight zone

My Time For Musicians

My valued time for musicians:
On-stage a class of magicians,
Though their tunes not for theologian’s
Who brand musicians logicians…

It’s a reaching-out to people 
For stirring their dreams or ripple,
Musicians for the route to love,
Their tunes proofs of its being a dove
“While living, bleeding and kicking
A lip you conquered be licking,
Even as time keeps a-ticking.
And unsolved mad problems sticking."

Man’s sought scarce time for musicians. 
They’d envision bright conditions,
In songs hallowing beauticians;
Or them rhythmic renditions:
Lots of creative time finding,
For actions to a pair binding;
Now, no axe for spouses’ grinding
Not with great tunes for a minding

A Different Season

days of fasting overlap
prayers offered to fill a gap
in lives surrounded by a wrap
of tradition and modern seditions

today, Lent and Ramadan bring
times of reflection and for some, to sing
folks set aside the mundane, for a better thing
to live special days, mingled with cherished conditions

like ships passing in the night
sojourners waiting for the morning light
take time to reflect on another’s might
seeking the Divine with community renditions

The Kentucky Derby Poem

As swift behooves,
In challenging quest,
Competitive hearts,
Race their best,
A treasure to win,
One measurable test,
For equine ones,
The World's Best.


new renditions to have compared later. This is with As starting out on first line.

That Old Deceitful Lying Heart

Consider this,
Consider this my truth,
The basis of my knowledge,
Fanciful and factual renditions of my reality
The words of obligation to myself
If I knew better...

I think I heard you whispering,
I thought I heard you testify,
No I'm certain that you definitely lied
Yes I'm uncertain that you definitely lied 


So many words can convey feeling
How many chapters can list  Truths?
In none of these but only ever in silent vowels


Do Consider,
Consider my failures
My truth was liberation, my confession
This was why I failed to seek it out
This is why I am confined in my notion of truth

I think I heard some footsteps
I think I heard you run
No I'm certain that you definitely lied


Lying to myself,
My devotion of a truth I sought

A List of Beautiful Seasons and Times

Winter melted into spring 
And became such a thing 
Called summer who fell 
For autumn 
Autumn then did its thing
Winter snowed beautifully 
In its season before handing 
The reign to spring and again
 it begins again spring pride
Rose gardens blossom lilacs red blues 
And all sorts of beautifuls 
Seasons mixing 
Seasons tricking
Sunrises sunsets
Repetitions  day  by awe
Tinted  day.  
Renditions  of Repetitions.
Repetitions and Renditions 
Revelations of days and days and days 
Weeks and years and years and 
Millenniums  and millenniums
 to present  day  and 
Eons still to come. 
All days have been recorded in 
Sacred books  eons upon eons upon
Eons  and  sacred words that no human has ever 
Heard.

Autumn - Constanza

Autumn - Constanza
To honour Connie Marcum Wong
A lady graciously refined
Who's sadly left the world behind.

Autumn sings her annual song
Russet leaves bow down in prayer
In colourful seasonal flair. 

Sweet voiced angels singing along 
As harp renditions play in wait
To greet her at the pearly gates.

‘Twas the season you’d loved lifelong
May your place in heaven be blessed
By autumn at her loveliest.

Words to you alone they belong
Hark as poets read verse out loud
Tribute poems to you avowed.

Carry our love, a love so strong 
As you soar to celestial shore
To dwell with loved ones evermore.

To honour Connie Marcum Wong
Autumn sings her annual song
Sweet voiced angels singing along
‘Twas the season you’d loved lifelong
Words to you alone they belong
Carry our love, a love so strong.
19th September 2022

*+*+*

Connie
May golden slumbers kiss your eyes
Sleep peacefully in paradise.

*+*

In Remembrance of Connie -Autumn Theme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Suzanne Delaney
Written in the Constanza poetry form created by Connie Marcum Wong

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