Life--the never-aging ballerina—pirouettes outside my window like a gazelle in showers of rain, snow, apricot blossoms, October gold... She is completely oblivious to MS sentencing me to immobility. I am irritated by her like a cow is irritated by an insect, except I don’t have a tail to shoo her away, and even if I had one, it would be as limp as the tutu in my closet…
The antelope wench
Is prancing all day;
I find it so strange:
I swat her away—
She dances instead
Of leaving, the prig;
I moo in my shed
Resenting her jig.
Falling into a cavern,
My patterns hold me down,
Drowning in the currents,
I'm taken from my consent,
Deeper and deeper I went,
Finding comfort in torment,
Learning to implement the tools,
Losing my way over and over,
Choosing to grow older,
My heart grows colder,
Another boulder to move,
Proving i move mountains,
A fountain of possibilities,
Springs up before me,
Seeing another way home,
Roaming the dark corridors,
Hidden within my core,
Revealing many more,
Unexplored patterns inside,
Slipping on pride,
I slide into another experience,
The interference has me shaking,
I'm making hasty decisions,
My vision over ridden by fear,
I peer passed my present,
Resenting what could've been,
If I hadn't fallen again,
In the dark I sit and wait,
For my patterns to take the bait.
Unanswered
Feeling abandoned
while in his presence
years of absentee love
Thoughts wrestling with reasons
for feeling the detachment or delay
of what should come naturally, paternally,
These things you have confided
with eyes cried out and thirsty
your soul saturated with tears of its own
My heart cries for yours that is conflicted
loving and resenting the one
from whom you seek validation and attention
and pray for its peace.
-Laura P.
two gleaming shiny cars
how much do they know?
they have taken our family on many journeys
they have seen our anger
Do they make fun of us
Behind our backs?
Maybe in front of our faces?
How can we shame or punish them
if we don’t know?
I stare at the cars in my driveway
resenting their feeling of superiority
You can't hold it both ways, In meaning.' You
Are either direct.' Or directionless..And thus
In a mess.' No less-en-ing, yet less kenning will ensue.' Though
You deny..Its more obvious..Showing through'
True.' Reality denying.? I find it at best tedious'
Not to mention trying.! And now cov-idiocy is
Really dying.' Symtoms seen, idio-tantric bouts
And much de-crying..Tantrum-atic antic's its
Virtuless incandesacnt-cy liquid spleen venting, venting' yet never airing.' Instead there
Is resenting and vitriol..And severe dis-connect, much fruit less conversation, born.? that really
Cripples the formerly upright soul; struggle of noble
Nations...How do I quantify.? Highlight the prints of such scorn.!
She was thrilled to be in the nightgown commercial
When the rain fell, the photographer said let’s not give up
She had no idea what this would mean to her career
She danced, frolicked and pretended to love the rain
Feeling like a fake, a poser, wondering when it would be over
The photographer kept snapping photos.
She was getting miffed.
It was cold water.
Difficult to pretend now.
The photo session was a huge success.
It launched her career.
She became a mega star, and was in high demand.
Her salary went from five figures to six figures.
She stopped resenting the photographer.
Glad to let go of the hatred, since they were married.
Just an evergreen
Using its sheen,
Notably seen
In a pattern pristine,
Presenting a keen,
Earthy fragrance clean,
Releasing into air serene.
Once I was blind, lost in my own way,
As forms change around me, night turns to day.
It’s wondrous to see the stars shining bright,
The moon swaying gently in the cool night.
We rush through our lives, unaware of the speed,
Caught in our routines, like plants from a seed.
We miss how the world spins and transforms,
Like clay from a pot, lost in its forms.
We have ice so white, while flowers bloom near,
In life’s endless struggle, we persevere.
Time shifts like a wheel, spinning so fast,
It’s tough to keep up, we’re losing our grasp.
Art and knowledge give so much to our kind,
While the ignorant dwell, with limits they find.
Those left behind in the traveler’s race,
End up resenting those who’ve found their place.
Left in the dust, feeling worn and alone,
While others rush past, claiming their throne.
But the best is to be in the midst of the flow,
As civilization reaches for light from below.
Always believing
carousels driven
elvoved from gathering
hibucius industrilized junipers kisses lingering meaningful nightfall omnipresent...
presenting quakes rolling seas tumults undermining
vessels wavering
x-grove yachting zealotry
All-aboard Boarding cruise
8/16/2024
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2024©
Shy clouds drift over a sea of blue satin,
Remembering to breath in the used to be soothing
Sunlight gentling the truth, kindling hopes
Who reflect on the new,
Listening to aching raindrops, glistening
And bursting through the promises
On a still, clear afternoon,
While endless notes of light,
Fall like heady bliss, on the moments
When birds test their voices,
Crooning, lyrics like the wind’s breath
Pouring over the heart,
Lighting the thoughts with powerful images,
Blessing away the doubts, the dread,
Feelings unfolding inside the soul who has bled
Grieving for summer, who has gone out of my head,
As autumn sinks in around my life,
Crispy and quiet, like the leaves who dance,
Remembering, reflecting, resenting
the past’s lavender kisses, with all its plummeting wishes.
Slumber at nightfall… Lose the detritus of mind... Eventually Each brain neuron recharges Presenting restoration
I never knew angst to be so devilish a thing
Taking me from a million clean years,
To ABC house of booze, because,
My blood money was abused by him
Wrecking the Kia Sportage I was strapped in
A passenger, pained to point of surgeries.
And on a rainy morning he swore resenting
Driving me to physical therapy,
And before the settlement, made his request:
"...Do my bathroom floor like yours."
And half of what I got was to be his
He carved such rules I broke in time
And kept secret what figures were mine.
But, lo and behold I sat pondering, counting pennies
And the devil drove me to think...
I should drink to that
All I got, and shared, and fail to stash.
Who knew Canadian whiskey would whisk me to detox?
And I, a recovering addict/alcoholic chose house of God
In AA I'd sit with alcoholics sharing what they drank,
How, when, where.
I'd rather say never again.
*
For her replies a much disagreeable voice
Over this daring to rejoice;
Any young man’s triggered depression a delight
His heart failure by half, her show of might;
Not to me different from Arrows of The North
Whose poisoned tip summons my wrath.
Choosing to in styles sway her hip
To ensure that men’s sure steps slip,
Admirers’ stops for pleasantries resenting
For a handshake an unwilling palm presenting;
Often glowering at offences not offered,
In tears dissolving for The-Not-Suffered,
To soon a lawyer hire for the unproven,
Her face lived – a Scalding Oven…
All, what her mother had taught her,
If she wants to with A Guy go far;
Their tutorials always in some closet,
Her first lesson “To always seem upset”.
Fallen gods
The scattering embers
with their fading twinkle
danced with the whirling breeze
bemusing all with the falling twilight
with eyes skew to the misty clouds
shaggy with its opaque fluffiness
slowing edging its blankness
eerily shunning the moon
quickening the ending of a phase
a broken sword
with its shattered blade
telling a scattered tale
to the throbbing hearts
beguiled by stolen voices
shammed to a broken reality
frail by the failed quests
wretched with the fallen crest
irk with the broken wings
thrall to an empty throne
resenting the fall from grace
Elbows must be packed more carefully.
I catch the eye of a flight attendant.
Some preliminary questions…
"Miss can I be slipped into a less edgy wedge?
She frowns, resenting perhaps my ‘miss’
should have said ‘mam’…damn.
I carry on babbling –
“Could my mind be more swiftly amputated?
Is it possible to be shuffled laterally
until I intrude less and match more?”
Now she is throwing daggers of hate towards me.
Are the engines honking like killer geese?
Will dinner come as an intravenous drip?
Is that kid vomiting back there?
Her dislike of my questions
is as palpable as a cudgel to the head.
“Miss I can’t see; my eyes are too near the seatback.
Will you stamp my papers D.O.A. now
to save time?"
My voice through the triple layered mask
sounds like a hyperactive zombie.
She smiles robotically.
"Sir, will you please stop blinking,
you're making the other cargo nervous."
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