Aprilcity was the theme a ridiculous jesture
A smile to say it was witty
A jesture to say it was clever
A lighthouse ajurned to a castle
In the middle of the desert
Might the mermaids sing to me
Might the prayers of sea merchants
Sound above the rocks
Might the winds howl in such agreement
The staffs of respected people
To treat visitors as there equal
From all ends of every nation
To marvel in such creation
Menu to menu
Event to event
Might the travelers who seek
A respective Venue
Speak us as such a retreat
To level the muzzling
the blurred eye to the blind
the most physical among us
To the sweet and unkind
Travelers in lodging
To which respects
A doctrine up holds
Might we stand staffed
To be host to visitor
Our needed like there's unopposed
Hospitality
Hospitality
Hospitality
The needs of many people
When the Language Merge**
I walked into Bobby Department Store and yelled, “Where are the Jamaicans and Barbadians?” This might sound a little strange to most people; however, it’s that time of year when all the languages and dialects merge, accompanied by the authentic accents from their respective places. Plus, there's always a bit of rudeness as people wait in long lines. Yet, amidst it all, the joy of Christmas still shines through in their voices.
Christmas is that one time of year when you can be happy without needing a reason. I could hear conversations like, “I want to mail this barrel by next week, but I know they won’t get it before next year.” As an outsider eavesdropping on these conversations, I sometimes think, “What is this barrel they are talking about? A barrel of rum? A barrel of Jack Daniel’s? A barrel of monkeys? What barrel?”
Yes, Bubba! That barrel is filled with gifts and food for their families on the Island of Brim. All I’d like to add is that I’m reminded that while New Yorkers say “standing online,” the rest of the English-speaking world says “standing in line.” - Jeffrey Stein Garten.
I bring you to a place
Where between us
Is time and space
So far away
Though I wish it not
And always ahead a day
This place is loud
It's thunder claps
It's screams in a crowd
It's violent and bold
It's waves crashing
It's fire taking hold
It's quiet and shape
It's a dagger and a blade
It's haunting notes on a harp
It's thoughts screaming
It's silence deafening
It's tears on a cheek gleaming
It's crying all alone
While you are asleep
Pain felt in the bone
We fight alone
With the other's name in mind
But each in our respective home
It's separation across time and space
And somehow we must last
To one day, together, grace the same place
They were armed with spears forged by their sun god
Mighty and mean, terrifying mountain-like marauders
The commander told them the battle would be fierce
Their enemies arrived with their own copper spears
Their breastplates and helmets were equal to the task
The battle raged for three days; the field smelled like blood
Evenly matched, the warriors continued on their quest
Smashing and bashing, in the name of their respective kings
Kings who sat on two hills, watching silently, with clean clothes.
Kings who did not mind men killing for their chance at more gold.
From a time of being disturbed without each other,
to a time of not meeting each other for days,
a sequence of events have turned our lives
to connect us with our respective journeys
But behind the enthusiasm about 'keep going in life',
underneath the blanket of self help at times
tears shed in grieve, pain and utter regret
of not living life as fantastic as the past
in each other's company creating unforgettable memories,
a bunch talks to share, a partner in crime at service.....
There lies a void corner of intense longing at the end
to see you safe and sound before this long journey ends
Those brief yet special moments of glee
might conceal the cracks developed over the years
The journey beginning with us together
would complete with our tears of sheer delight!
Until then, let not this period of seperation
take away our smiles, like those when we used to meet....
#bestfriends
We used to think about the stars
more distant than the planet Mars
But now we only think of Earth
which puts a damper on our mirth
For on the ground and in the air
There’s so much crud we just can’t bear
So all of you who toss your trash
You ought to be, but aren’t abashed
Be warned! We have a brand-new plan
That we are sure will soon you land
In jail in your respective towns
And change your smiles to ugly frowns
So if you like your freedom, guys
Don’t toss your trash! ~ A word to the wise
A little voice inside keeps saying, “write something different”
Different to what may I ask?
I have surely written about every subject there is to write about
No no! I can't write about THAT!
I'd get censored and my lifetime membership would be revoked
Anyway, writing that stuff is only to get attention
It's called “sensationalism”
The world press is particularly guilty of it
I understand they're in the business to sell papers
And add mucho dollars to their respective bank accounts
BUT a little discretion at times would certainly be in order
I'm not referring to any one particular article or story
Just expressing my thinking
Perhaps if events weren't sensationalized as much
The lunatic fringe would be more concerned with other things
Such as what they have to be thankful for
Instead of complaining about what others have and they don't
Am I dreaming???
To frigid-freed heartbeats, lover's behalf,
of mindless blind mute who came from Flagstaff.
Clueless inceptions nebulously grow,
Godsend occasion leaves the dark to glow,
sparks the light of life mimic frames of minds.
Emotions indulge past regret unwinds,
intricacies of distinctions arcane.
Scattered, detached, night candle burns the stain,
shatter separateness as divisive.
Emphases realized as decisive,
conceived borders we being inherits,
everyone shares their respective merits.
Douse not our embers, but keep strong our flame,
warm the blaze to a glow from whence we came.
BIBLE
Books respective inspired by authors
Beliefs word of God communicated
Based upon scripts tablets of stones skins of animals
Bibliabook Romanized koine Greek
Both Old and New testament, Leads us to Jesus
Basic sacred writ scripture authority
Bible good news doctrine divine words from God
11/9/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2023
salient arguments
whirlwind across the floor
rugs of rolling hills
closets filled yet more
the ones we never speak of
portraits fleering
infinite mirrored reflections
walls of respective distances
dogs chasing their tales
mad electrons seeking rest
grabbing at foreign orbits
i turn to her
i have failed in suburbia
the great american dream
i am returning to the jungle
my hovel there is safe
i do not speak the language
streets bear names i have never heard
the poet held incommunicado
i always get left on corners screaming
you will be sorry
Lenin and Moscow
MacArthur and the Philippines
Houdini and Death
i shall return, corners are everywhere
waiting for a streetcar
"Desire"
i have come to realize
i will do this again
some men can only pine
i bury them in it
San Blas 90
I paused me on the unstable deck of inquisitiveness
Jailbird the mind is but seized in the remorseful cell
To be learned thyself I bought the grace of flower
It sold me in the furnished market of hatred press
Reformatory house reformed me all through seen
But unseen I breathed the furnace of vindictive vein
I regained the pause which declared an inner war
Against me, I won the self- except the love I’m fiend
No defeated phase of the soul I met and found there
Human as man and woman- a respective cycle of creation
Though divisions dyed the eyes of thinking thoroughly
For the peace, all illuminated the harmony in the nature
With love, I wanna stand on the peak of natural beauty
Where every heaven is built as a room of humanity
© Mahtab Bangalee
Chattogram
11/05/2023
High above the quiet, darkened streets of January, the night wind begins to whisper secrets through my apartment window casements. Far below me lie four cafes, all in sync as they awaken from daytime hibernation to begin an evening ritual of turning on lights, welcoming thirsty patrons, discouraging lost polar bears, trying to survive.
Light bulbs hang in lazy swags, dripping evenly from the edge of each identical awning. Predictably, their glow travels as fast as the light itself creating a sudden and uninvited interruption of the Arctic desert landscape.
Sitting apart on their respective corners below, the cafes squeeze into a single pane near the bottom of my window. Leaning closer, I blow a hot and intoxicated breath onto the glass in defiance or retaliation, an attempt at immolation perhaps. Instead, my unused air lies wasted across the cafes on the other side of the window, in an irregular oval of futility.
I use a balled-up fist to wipe away the misty scene before it has a chance to evaporate and leave me alone, a desperate and inevitable disappearing act in the face of my curated isolation.
Why do we drown ourselves in a sea of sorrow
Working relentlessly to create a better tomorrow!
Why is this soil so barren, why do the children no longer play here
Why are the villagers so lost, not wanting to learn more or stay near
The materialistic world we all see today so longingly
Will be someone else’s playground, when the dark ages come slowly
Our work is not done, Unless we have made our future generations secure
Doing our routine work suddenly tends to be a big bore
Just as the waves on the ocean front splash carelessly rushing towards the shore
Our generation is rushing to our respective jobs, not leaving unturned any chore
But like a sudden current could change the course of the waves,
Mishaps could turn our lives choppy and we are suddenly left to brave –
The misery of what we could not provide for our own stays with us,
While the pompous lifestyle we used to live could suddenly seem forlorn, Oh! Pray for us
A little voice keeps saying, “write something different”
Different to what I may ask?
I've surely written about every subject there is to write about
No no! I can't write about THAT!
I'd be censored and my lifetime membership would be revoked
Anyway, writing that stuff is only to get attention
It's called “sensationalism”
The world press is particularly guilty of that stuff
I understand they're in the business to sell papers
And add mucho dollars to their respective bank accounts
BUT a little discretion at times would certainly be in order
I'm not referring to any one particular article or story
Just expressing my thinking
Perhaps if events weren't sensationalized as much
The lunatics out there would be more concerned with other things
Such as what they have to be thankful for
Instead of complaining about what others have and they don't
Am I dreaming???
*AUDIO, plus a, Video of A Clarification by YouTube.
"Let us shine and not burn," by Elle Casey
A Clarification
Conceived onsets by one's subjective state,
Clueless inceptions nebulously grow,
A mindless blind mute moves, rousing its fate,
Godsend occasion leaves the dark to glow.
Sparks the light of life mimic frames of minds,
Intricacies of distinctions arcane,
Emotions indulge past regret unwinds,
Scattered, detached, night candle burns the stain.
Shatter separateness as divisive,
Conceived borders we being inherits,
Emphases realized as decisive,
Everyone shares their respective merits.
Douse not our embers, but keep strong our flame,
Warm the blaze to a glow from whence we came.
2022 November 21
*5thPlace*
A BRIAN STRAND PREMIERE CHOICE
~~Brian Strand: 2022 November 25
RZ & HMS.
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