Rhe Poems | Examples

Was a girl

There once was s girl,
Everyone said was crazy and it was all in her head.
She mY have been going out of her mind.
Dazed and confused like ships 
In rhe night, the girl thought she kost her mind.
Nowhere to go and nobody to see, 
The girl and her ship were drowning at sea 
Everyone pointed and laughed
As the life boar floated by,
Helpless  the girl and her ship sank to the bottom of the sea.

Was a girl

There once was s girl,
Everyone said was crazy and it was all in her head.
She mY have been going out of her mind.
Dazed and confused like ships 
In rhe night, the girl thought she kost her mind.
Nowhere to go and nobody to see, 
The girl and her ship were drowning at sea 
Everyone pointed and laughed
As the life boar floated by,
Helpless  the girl and her ship sank to the bottom of the sea.

Nightingale Daydream

Empty streets,
Naked trees,
Flowers,
Sighing,
In rhe chill autumn breeze,
With some gypsy ladies,
Dancing a salsa dance,
In a field of sunfliowers,
Surreal waves,
With windswept kisses,
Empty canvases,
And benches,
Waiting to be filled,
With hues and innovative styles,
A hymn hummed in a mango vineyard,
By an enchanting lady,
Tambourines and harmonicas,
Filling the cafes,
Miracle of beauty,
Miracle of you,
Miracle of rain in her damp hair,
Miracle of a poem read,
A kiss shared,
A song sung,
Miracle of nightingales,
Having evening daydreams,
With cabaret ladies playing violins,
In their translucent robes
Reynaldo Casison

Bloom

When you think of flowers 
blooming you think of the 
stages they have to go through-
toget to the point of being 
admired by rhe world, even 
captivating a lover's eye-
as if it is waiting to be plucked and cherished eagerly.
But the ones I cherish
bloom in my heart. You planted 
them there so unexpectedly.
From a seed, you planted an idea.
From a sprout, you guided me to reach 
towards the sky. You water
me daily, feed my soul, nuture my 
sprouts- encouraging me to 
grow strong and tall.
And when I am resilient to 
all weather conditions-
I bloom.
I transition into the best version of myself.
And when winter comes and 
withers me away- I come 
back again, each version better than the last. 
You are the curator to the 
garden of my soul- I will
always appreciate your decision to choose me
to plant  as your beautiful garden.

Memories

Sometimes we try very hard 
To erase our past and 
Even our past self from that past 
But no matter what we do 
It always leave the marks behind 
No matter what thought 
And emotions I use as an eraser 
But i am trying now to look forward   
Beyond that page of my life 
Now i feel like rhe life is like notebook 
Not the page what I use to  think about 
Even though we can't erase the marks 
We can look forward to new pages 
That is blank and waiting for the story 
That we write into it .

Stop Crying, Poetess

Twas no use…neither to love, nor care,
She wept, as briskly out the door, he went.
That thunderous night, crashing bolts of lightning
from God’s tent were with His love sent
But she heard Him naught, just in rhe flashes
of electrical blue light, wept and stared!

Like other women, she thought love lasted and 
men were faithful for all time. 
You will read many a write like that here.
Crying women, so afraid, that without
that “one” man, they have life to fear.
It is but a hapless case of a lying cuss.
Who lied, so stop the tears, life’s sun is out!


1/29/202

Walking Through Rhe Streams of Life- Being Carried In the Arms of Christ

Barefooted as I walk through the streams of life water surrounds my heel foot my toes compelling as I am drenched my ankles hold the weight of my body I stand vertical with my life virtue my heart's aflame my soul is swimming within my inner self my spirit flies it no longer listens it has come through the windows of my eyes oh Mystic Waters flown Downstream Covenant am I that's my Celestial being reaches out from my inner self Gathering my completeness I am a lost yet I walk in the Stream I start syncing I took my eyes off of the prize I am sinking I can't swim because I'm falling beneath the surface I can no longer see my feet but yet someone else's feet bronze different color purple Renaissance for you see the stream no longer there nothing but dry land I am being carried by the Savior 
Amen

8/18/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr  2022

The River

Flowing in all directions of life
I see myself in your eyes
Sorrounded by that aura of might
You are rhe life of mankind

With your calm, soothing tides
Comes a feeling so strong
Making us whole once more
Deciving us as you walk

The RIVER
You never dry up, always full to the brim
And i swear i just saw you grin as i fell to your command.
Giving life to the broken
And taking it from those who had it

You are flawless
You break us to make us
Give and take. I always
Knew you were the GOD 
Of mankind

And know i see you for
Who you really are 
THE DARK RIVER

Joy Alongside Tears

Early morning raindrops on my window pane.
They mimic my tears dops softly rolling down my face.
The dark skies represent the suffering that is in my 
        heart.
Cold air in spring is the response to my pain.

Joy is a gift that is eternal.
Remembering this I beginn to hear the birds outside my
       home singing a delightful melody.
I graciously say that I appreciate this day.
Love a treasure that holds me back from bitterness.

Grandma's wise words of forgiveness  soothes the hurt.
The humility of a sloaths movements disputes my  anger of being laughed
       at while in the struggle.
Seeing rhe future ahead clears my eyes.
Knowing there is one who will never leave me 
          secures my steps.

Rainbow Friend

So lovely,
Yet, they vanish stealthily,
Truly, hurtfully.

Excuses are made,
Your heart weeps in rhe shade,
A raid on you, made.

So gullible,you,
Thought you had a good friend, too, 
You, alone, not two.


            

              7/2/2021

When the Clouds Cry For a Few Days

Today and for the past three days, 
the clouds are crying. 
Thick opaque rain, 
soaking the earth and the souls of the people,
hidden behind the windows. 
Forests and eaves of roofs hiding drinking 
whisperers and songbirds,
woods, in the cold wind, 
carefully guarding the secrets
 of both birds and people and the city, 
while waiting and hoping for the best. 
And she, my Amy 
hasn't called in a long time. 
He's not with me for an hour. 
I wonder where it is, 
and whether the woods and 
eaves of crooked houses, 
along with the birds,
 when the clouds stop the tears of heavenly eyes, 
will keep secrets, about us. 
He shared all his secrets with the birds of this city. 
So when this stops, we will sing in chorus. 
About our sweets and secret mischief. 
Let the city know, for my hidden treasure, 
Rejoice 
And the sun and the hidden birds
whispering and the singing birds 
somewhere in the treetops and under the eaves of the houses,
And the people ...
 Let's sing together go to Amy
Celebrating the perfection of love. 
Rhe magical bites of beauty within us.

Christmas Message

From the bottom of my heart,
              through the windows of my eyes
               I send vibrations to everyone,
               to all corners of rhe Earth,
               for all continents ...
               message of love, of tenderness
               of faith ... do you know why?
               Because it's Christmas time ...
               Time to live tenderly,
                to live in peace and humanly,
                with tenderness in our eyes and tenderness
                 in gestures ...
                 Christmas, Jesus  is born ...
                Jesus Christ the savior ...
                Holy time ...!


         Song Silent Night
          Andrea Bocelli

       https://youtu.be/YlK2Atb8Qkc

Rhe Builders

The Builders

A team of architects blew a big hole 
on a mountainside and built a housing block
of 14 floors tall. 
The country had a northerly wind often called 
Stalin´s revenge, it even made summertime chilly.
The block faced southward and had big windows
and a mirror system giving light in all rooms.
The edifice was given a name, Joe Biden and it is
a matter of time he is given a Nobel peace medal
Not for what he has done, but since he is not Trump
and Facebook has made him a saint.
There is always a but a mountain is not a dray it drips
And the mountain´s hole was damp, the white building
Turned mouldy and green and not a place for the asthma
sufferer became ill the air-conditioning had to be on 
all-day, that is expensive and didn´t live up the belief,
The hope of a wonderful world.

Naysayers Go Away

Enormous eggplants peppered her Easter hat.
They were a bit heavy, but purple and exact.
However did you find them, and what fun!
The old biddies said, when they saw her in the sun.

Why thank you, she said, pleased as all get out.
Her children had gone on, one with a little pout.
They were dying their eggs, with dye all over their hands.
They were playing their tubas, in their Sunday noon bands.

Rhe sat in the gazebo in her lovely dress of green.
She was the loveliest ghost many had never really seen.
Her delight was apparent, biddies gone away for now.
Her dancing was beautiful; her face was a wow.

She was the best dreamiest dream I had ever had.
She was big and beautiful, buxom busy and bad.
She was her own person, danced to drums of long ago.
Prancing into my head and she did not move slow.

Where did you find her? The fuddy duddies soon asked.
Hilarious, and funny, in her humor I basked.
She’s part of my imagination, I claim her as my own.
So naysayers, go away, you are not part of this poem.

The Edge of February

Kiss me. 
Kiss my lips on in the no man's land between warring trenches. 
Roll me in rhe barbed wire killing fields among the mud and the mines. 
Hold me until the smoke clears. 
Kiss my eyes while we are enclosed the bones of an abandoned church.
Nuzzle my neck among the whispering dead; the tombs and headstones of those who fell before we did.
Hold me until the fog clears.
Grip the swell of my hips in a fox hole full of shrapnel.
Shout my name into a sky full of searchlights.
Write your vows in the breaths between bullets.
Tell me you'll love me forever on a desserted beach full of crushed sea shells in the middle of February

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