When tensions begin to increase
I'm reverting back into my shell
In need of some kind of release
An escape from my personal hell
Will these tensions ever decrease
As mentally not feeling very well
I'm in need of some inner peace
Just a little boast to my moral
If only my thoughts would cease
So l could enjoy the here and now
And life perhaps a new lease
But still on the past l dwell
Excerts from poem state of confusion
1997 written 2020
UNEQIVOCAL TYPOLOGY
diatrobes
in
modern
disguise
of
cyclical
reflections
evolving
backwards
symptoms
of
a sense
of renewal
with
accelerating
implications
in
an
assimulating
spectrum
of
permutations
&
reverting
ad infinitum
into
poetic shadowy
appearances
of
necessity
Those of a religious inclination
tell me that ‘this world’ is pure illusion
That ‘Truth’ resides in the Heavenly Station
though it is they who dwell deep in the grips of delusion
You see, Truth is based on individual perception
which differs from one wo/man to their fellow
Of this they seem to have zero conception
at least by the way they bellow –
that I deny the existence of objectivity
which, while true, is nothing new
Philosophers from time immemorial speak of subjectivity
If a tree falls in the forest and no one is there to hear it – on this they chew
Whew! Here I am in my advanced senility
reverting to long-ago ~ late-night discussions of youthful futility
Fallen.
Down into the cold dark morass.
Earthborn once more.
Discarded.
From the warmth of your secret fires.
Out of grace.
Into the wilderness.
Love no longer mine to give.
Nor yours to have.
Requiem.
Into a labyrinth scene.
With shades of your face sketched in reverting dreams.
The cancer in my head
Patently obviously
Is ever so slowly
Taking over
Me
Day bye day
So here's to you
Al Parkinson
My imaginary childhood friend
Who as a single child
I could truly count on
And kept me company
Way back then
For kindly taking the time to revisit
Me once again
As you are the only one
Through all and everything
I have been put through and endured
Has never once left me on my own
Stayed ever present at my side
Till this very present moment
Where we find ourselves now
Quivering trembling in fear
And as old as you are now in terms of age
Reverting deeply back to whence upon
You were a child yourself
Trapped seemingly unable to escape
The confinement of inside your head
Praying endlessly for nothing less or more
Than when someone
Most
Especially
A close loved one enquires
Can you remember
Do you in fact know
Who you are
Or I am
Reverting to an early childhood spell,
when rainbows had this fascination for me,
and still do much to my delight,
wonder in the skyline boondocks,
hoop of lavish colour one can dream of,
fantasy afloat on sunlit cloud,
imagining another world so bright,
alphabet not needed when budding minds glisten,
to chase that buoyant marvel,
even on a lax afternoon,
is that ultimate peach exploit we cherish,
especially for those who fancy stimulus,
pot of gold prospect never seen but might appear,
band of chalk-spun phantom’s mirror bend,
wizard plait that spur to haunting pigment,
madrigal for pearl-eyed infant haiku,
or maybe tanka, pantoum, verse
on fabulous enthralling pen craft
Arc of hues celeste
weave dreams for starry-eyed who
crave earthling peak bliss
Stop singing yesterday if that's
all you have ever done
Likewise unless you know for an
absolute certainty, please stop singing
if tomorrow never comes
And pick a song to sing about the
in regards to the present here and now
And I bet you probably find yourself
singing and reverting to
Those same old song's again
As today is what yesterday is
to tomorrow
Same old song's on repeat because
they for whatever reason always
seem to make sense
Whether that may be in the past
or present tense
We learn to sit and then to crawl
Because our view is just too small.
From crawling next we start to walk;
Confinements only make us balk.
Once we can walk, we learn to run;
Our exploration has begun
And once adulthood is unfurled,
We head on out to see the world.
The years flash by; our running days
Return us to a former phase.
Again we walk, with waning pep,
Reverting to a slower step.
We skip the crawl but soon see fit
To find a cozy place to sit
And once we’re settled in a seat,
We know life’s circle is complete.
Convincing oneself of a better way
When the mind is set on the status quo
Can certainly be most disconcerting
Especially if there is no reverting.
Letting go of old tried and true ways
When new possibilities open to grow
Can tax the mind when it is firmly set
Sometimes it’s hard to know which way to go.
Decisions always call for careful consideration
Pros and Cons must be taken into account
It’s never good to rashly set a new course
But new possibilities one should never discount.
written February 27, 2022
Often I held you
In my arms I expelled
You your breath so lively
Your touch inside me
As I wait to inhale you
Pleasant pressures virtue
Honorably I acknowledge knowingly I never hurt you
This cause, because of my virtue
I am absolutely I'll revert to the truth
I will hang on and never let loose
For darling I love you to the utmost
Always and together
We will come we will come and praise God together
Our hearts minds and soul
Intertwined and in a row
Your heart's so lively beating as such
As I embrace you you're warmth your touch
Ever so mean so every much
This calls because of our virtue
I am an absolute because of our virtue reverting to our truths
Together we both shall hang on and never unloose
My, my, my, my, my darling I love you to the utmost
8/9/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021
Maybe it’s monstrous to murder
the music in my mind
Turning tunes to feathers
floating on currents of ether
like waves on whiskey seas
Black cherry bourbon and soda
sweet with heat
bubbling in my blood
converting my consciousness
reverting me to who I should be
making a mockery of my insecurity
my anguish and anxiety
as I dance alone again another night
A golden rope of hope holds me upright
for one more day
though it’s beginning to fray
There’s no solace in this silence
A time machine for trauma
reminding me why I am this way
I wonder what words would win you
as liquor is a languid lover
that leaves like every other
It has risen with the soul
Heading off to glory,
Spirited up to Jesus, God and the angels
If in physical death the flesh leaves our bones
Only white is left
All I want to know is where is the breath
After death
As our bodies disintegrate
Bones rot and decay reverting back to dirt/clay
Yet our True self is on its may in a twinkling of an eye
Instantaneously we fly
Our souls, our true self to heavens high
After colors
All that’s left is brilliants whites of God and Jesus Christ
3/17/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2021©
All tidy and neat, smelling apple sweet
Life pranced forward in an amazingly great way
Then there was a hiccup, a screech, a slap
Or something else that changed it into a foggy mean thing
For a second but most did not hold a grudge,
Reverting back to the happy joyful way it used to be
Before the event
Not all
Some held onto the hiccup and screech
Wailing and keening
Tearing their eyes out of their faces
To prove the horribleness of the slap
To retain its power
To stop living
And it all happened
Secretly in a subconscious world
Where no one else could go
No longer tidy or neat on
Stanton Street.
Tantalizing thought whiff wafted on the evening breeze
Both chapters and mistakes;
Lessoned me
Some chapters, I read repeatedly
Some mistakes, I don't want to repeat again
Yonder for miles,
Be and by now
His voice echoes
Like the high mountains reverting my own voice
His benign touches
Like wild wind tangles my hair tresses
His smell of scent and essence of his grace
Like an oasis, calmed and centred over sandy wilderness
Yonder for miles,
Then and by now
Ensnared with or without memories,
Like a casket filled with solitaires
Some were mine
And some he gifted me...
encompassed in the womb
through darkness, i felt touch
ethereal strums from fingers
against my unborn flesh
as a melody soothed
in rhythmic pulses
from your heart
...it's the only time i felt loved
you gave me life
taught me to walk
two steps shy of death's door
i crawled in the shadows, afraid
cowering in the algidity of a touch
i ached for in outstretch motions
as tiny fingers reached upward
reverting back with blades
that scribbled scores of depth
while trying to feel anything but anguish
...i wished to be unborn
you fed me
ugliness through affliction
of dispassionate glares
as you made me
unlove myself
starve myself
until i was but an empty shell
of what i could have been
...i will never be good enough
you gave me a house
filled with treasures, untouched
clothed me in ridicule
made me learn to crawl
on weakened knees
while filling buckets
with my tears, my echoes
shuddering down halls
where i curled up
and died, unheard
...you killed me inside
November 12, 2019
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