Cold floorboards groan beneath
the weight,
Of shadows trapped inside the gate.
The walls are bleeding memories
past,
In rooms where dying breaths were
cast.
A sudden chill, a phantom stride,
With nowhere left for you to hide.
The staircase creaks without a
foot,
And all your courage turns to soot.
The mirrors distort a twisted face,
That claims this dark, forsaken
place.
You hear the latch, you feel the
dread,
The house belongs to what is
dead.
Evil spirits rotting thoughts
Evil spirit heard a happy thought going by
Trapped in the house where it departed
It twisted the joy into a jagged blade,
Dipped in shadows and pride.
It drove that spike through the victim’s ear,
And it nested deep in the brain.
The man thought he was losing his mind,
As he listened to the whispers of pain.
But it wasn't madness or a wandering wind,
That made his skin turn cold.
It was the spirit, feeding on his light,
Until the story was told.
As painful as it is i have to wave my goodbye
Cry my very last tear as i abandon the memory of you and everyone around you
i cant keep whining about the things i couldve said and done diffrently
cant keep wishing for you to see me as a human being
everyhting keeps on moving with times arrows and i need too
i cant be the only one left behind to rot with sorrowful regrets
I know you dont care
i know you want me dead
you want to see me rot away
Cats play sad villion with my soul
it scraches every surface of my mourning heart
The melody of sorrowful memmories follows me everywhere i go
everytime a quiet night aproaches
i can hear the sad villion cats aproaching
snatching my soul
to play the same melody again and again
i know you want me to rot away
but i cant be the only one left behind
to rot with past regrets
i cry my very last tears tonight
i refuse to let any more tears stain the collar of my shirt
Laid on my cold bed
Teething, raw and primal
To be mindless, to focus on what's inside.
A closed door, yet God's eyes are piercing through.
Sweat and tears run down,
My thighs wet with tears, two petals spread open
The night is potruding, my eyes are tired and dry
Raw pleasure and drowning shame leaves a bittersweet aftertaste.
Raw vulnerability, slicing open
Yet to let go leaves me hollow
But if man only relies on his instinct,
What difference still lingers between him and a hungry animal?
The rotting of a socialist
I knew of a young man, a rebel who wanted
his country to adopt the Scandinavian model of socialism.
He was elected to great acclaim by the people,
he wanted taxes to rise, especially among
the wealthy and upper middle classes, they rebelled
by slurring him in the newspapers, lurid tales about sex orgies
and a luxury living, people turned against him
not re-elected
After some years’ people found he was not
a bad egg
and he was elected as president again.
Now he was a changed man, didn`t care less about the Left
or the right, he just wanted to be president in his self-belief
gave tax relief to the rich, prices went up, and people
protested they wanted him to go.
He refuses to do so many people are killed
he doesn`t care
turned from a good man into a bloody dictator
who will keep his power at whatever cost and has to
be removed by whatever means.
Viva Nicaragua.
As tears fall
I open my moldered eyes to see myself
Blurred and grotty
I’m beginning to rot now
My skin melting into my bedsheets
Moldy and itching with pests
Am i one of them?
Am i another eyesore?
Am i as revolting as the blowflies?
I’ll admit that i feel
Repugnant in love
But how can that be so
When i rot for you?
Look at what i’ve done
All for you
I have never hurt so badly
And this time it’s not because
Of the bugs shredding my skin
Burrowing
But because you never left my heart
You were always there
Just another maggot
Burrowed in my flesh
She, who consumed poison
From the sight of blood that gradually rotted
For all she could do was endure the smell
Of a body bound to rot.
Blood is thicker than water
That blood was half of hers
But she masked the faint smell in rotting juice.
She knew, everyone else did too.
One claims to know the holistic answers
Until it becomes their situation.
I understand the imagined smell
And the body yet to fall
Through the black lingering mist.
Nothing shines upon them in your eyes anymore.
The wacky laugh becomes unsettling
When the empty mouth opens.
There is nothing funny to laugh at
When the laugh almost wasted him away.
The joke does not exist
When the joke exists inside the scrambled brains of eight years.
Innocence is sweet
Ignorance is perfect.
Now the woman saw the corpse for what it wanted
The rotting smell wasn’t so bad
Blood became thicker than ever.
Water became her companion.
Others await in the same wait.
Disturbed by the sight of the soon-to-be rotting body
Unsure of what to do
Except to drink the rotting juice.
I am rotting at your door
It's nothing you haven't seen before
I wish I could stand up and leave
It's a tapestry of tragedy I weave
I bring this unto myself
Put my emotions on a shelf
In a jar, they're there to rot
This all-consuming story plot
There is nothing I can do
I'm projected onto you
But if I try to end this scene
I'm afraid we won't reconvene
So I love you impossibly
And I'm stuck in frivolity
I love you so much it hurts
So I hope I stay in the dirt
I can't hurt you if I do
And you can't hurt me
I love you
trying to forget all your reminders
They all have dark hearts
The Shadow The Crow
The epitome
Both stand behind you
Both black
Both speaks
Relics carnivore versions of themselves
The vulture and the pigeon
Both eat dead things
They tug Pierce pick and pull off your remains
Erie bits
Scavengers talking and pulling with their beaks
Further dismantling devouring as as they seek
The epitome
Death comes yet behind you
Darkness lays you down
Maggots kiss your flesh what is left
Worms eat the eyes out your head
Truest self has risen spirit fly's leaving your body dead
4/3/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021
I cannot remember
The lips that I've kissed, why, when, and how.
I can't still recall
The number of hearts I've broken and the way they bled.
I cannot remember
The days I've lived, why, where and how.
I can't really imagine
The essence of my existence and when I will die.
I cannot remember
The chances that I have missed, why, when and how.
I can't reminisce
Why I tried to see when there was nothing in sight.
I can remember
The pains, betrayals, stabs and the wounds on my sensibilities.
They're easy to correlate
And I know I'm in prison because I loved and trusted with my soul.
How Much Longer Will We
Sacrifice JUSTICE for MERCY
With the likes of
Our Dee Pee Bee's (Domestic Purposes Benefits)
Before we realize it
Undermines OUR morality
Insidiously insinuating itself in
To legislation landscaped unevenly
As if handouts are 'free'.
"Who DECIDES WHO IS NEEDY?"
Should be the question asked.
Why do we ignore
Embedded in the core
The rot mercy masked?
The shrinking violet made her way back.
For another round of acidic attacks.
Blaming the sun for her shadows,
the mirror for all her cracks.
The mad queen of monkeys,
leading a gnashing troop.
Tossing stones and madly lashing
While slinging vicious verbal poop....
Driving all the flavor from the soup,
There she sits atop self-pity hill.
Bible in one claw-acid in the krill.
Hopping merrily from kill to kill to kill.
Your hue of loneliness is self-inflicted.
Carefully look back at the paths and weaponry you chose.
A path of slippery pricks and a rotting bouquet of roses.
It's well past time you grew out of and shed that ugly mold.
The rotting of a socialist
I knew of a young man a rebel who wanted
his country to adopt the Scandinavian model of socialism.
He was elected to great acclaim by the people,
to do what he wanted taxes had to go up especially among
the wealthy and upper middle classes and they rebelled
by slurring him in the newspapers, lurid tales about sex orgies
and a luxury living, people turned against him he was not re-elected
After some years’ people found he was not a bad egg
and he was elected as president again.
Now he was a changed man didn`t care less about the Left
or the right, he just wanted to be president in his self- belief
gave tax relief to the rich prices went up, people
protested they wanted him to go.
He refuses to do so, many people are killed he doesn`t care
turned from a good man into a bloody dictator
who will keep his power at whatever cost and has to
be removed by whatever means.
Viva Nicaragua.
Rot on me light, like murky cool damps,
That drip like some sweat in your sockets.
I look on green flesh, purple, bruised and unyearned,
Take it, take it, when it's all alright,
Like a fight that ended in closure.
Steal it from the smile, and take it.
They'd rape the roses anyways, so selfish,
Fine tuned to rot on me light. Rot on me.
Turn my skin darker and pale, steal my heat,
Steal my voice, steal my words, and purity.
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