Saturates Poems

Journeying Through Remembering

Though nothing changes, nothing stays intact.
Some places I have loved are shrunken, spoiled,
and sights I’ve carried with me are now soiled,
polluted. I’m confronted with the fact.
But Rome’s eternal, even when it’s sacked.
It’s comforting to know that, when I’ve toiled
to keep alive a vision, and recoiled
from ruination, I can yet exact
enormous pleasure from what still remains.
The brooding phantoms which I have to face
are ghosts of my past self. As vigour wanes,
it pains me to recall each trait and trace
of what I was, in catacomb campaigns,
whose faded glory saturates the place.

My sweetest dear

My sweetest dear
Whose eyes are my soul's elixir
Five moons upon us
As our dreams bend the stars

That paddock full of wild flowers
Now yields the softest grass
My hands passing over those seeded heads
As the wind sways them to you

We meet there one day
One day, any day , every day
Finally that dream awoken 
Nervous hands with nervous eyes

A remedy for our racing hearts 
Salves the skin that knows not touch 
As the same air saturates us
We yield unto each other

Victory Sunday

Bright light pervades the tomb.
Wrappings neatly folded, laid aside.
Perfect Son of Man resuscitates;
Adorned in power and majesty.
Darkness of death irreversibly erased.

Salvation in Christ’s sanctified being.
Lamb -  head-to-heels immaculate.
Brilliance of dayspring greets groom.
Perfume of heaven saturates atmosphere;
The Rose of Sharon satisfies.

Lambent Messiah cast off sin.
His eyes bear no pain,
Nor shade onrushing sun.
Intensity of love and majesty;
Zealous to embrace His victory.

Shock on us

What manner of vengeance 
As a stench invading fragrance 
The kind unlike princes and kings
Worthy to be denied pedestals and wings
To never be beheld when people look up
For it shall be bile in the people’s cup

A man who came in the Name of the Lord 
With strangling cords of extortion beyond afford
Turning against brother with straight face 
Next moment claiming piety without grace
Tainting our mettle and name
Making shame our claim to fame

What then shall we say dear brethren 
Be consoled that God watches from heaven 
And will save us with His Righteous Right Arm
But our due appeasement and charm
Must be our obedience and reverence 
That His Spirit saturates every conscience

For we have failed in decision
Logic, intelligence and wit now face attrition 
As life hands us situation after situation 
What to do with the observations awaiting interpretation 
Only surrender all to God in prayer
For to delve and to dare all proves too much to bear

K. Muitherero.

Saturate The Senses

(Inspired by Glenn Hudges song " Shake The Ground")


I look out for you in emptiness day and night
for a long while you’re out of my sight
my heart throbs with the tune of yearning pure
my essence embraces your graceful allure

Your attracting footprints have faded, but I follow
to the fervent destination of desire I know
where with the ardor of my love I envelop you 
to turn into burning ember of craving anew. 

I feel I’ve plunged into fathomless void wary
while the broken sky falls around me
but I see your charisma the new sun rays bring
make for me the colorful collage of longing.

In the sunburst horizon drenched by hued shower
dreamy dawn blossoms like the spring flower
the golden aura makes the diamond dew glow  
that flashes like your smile in my meadow.

I’m submerged in your love, I want to tell you
I float on cloud nine, you’ve no clue
I’m not tired of wandering in wasteland so long
your love for me is forever, don’t get me wrong.

When I look at the depth of your eyes
my heart pulsates with a new rhythm I surmise
my soul absorbs the spirit of sincerity 
saturates my senses with the feeling of ecstasy.

A Death Never Mourned

On the outskirts of a long-abandoned country town
beyond the crumbling headstones and elmwood trees
is mounted a dark dismal figure of what used to be
a scarecrow whose limbs flail in Autumn's breeze

Hung as if crucified, his death was never mourned
The creature decayed in the midst of a barren field
Fallow lies the ground he once so boldly protected
Nigh on twenty years since wheat crops gave yield

Poor beast, with innards of grayed moss and twigs
Tenebrous, the moldy growth on his stygian face
as fog encroaches to shield me in the shadows of night
He's a monolith of death, staked in this cursed place

Darkness saturates the clouds and shrouds the moon
Comes the North wind, and a caw... caw... cawing sound
A murder of crows take flight over the wretched scene
Where once reigned a Sovreign who was never crowned

Raining in Summer

Like a welcome Summer rain, humor may suddenly
cleanse and cool the earth, the air and you.
—Langston Hughes

RAINING IN SUMMER

  The little teapot leaned over, steam pours out,
sizzles on the pavement. Trickles, sprinkles,
  waters the subsidiary gardens that sprout -
those pointed out by a grandson. My wrinkles
  curve up as the rain skillfully waters my willow,
my patch of roses and lilies, scattered and rare.

  With Summer storm, I ruminate on a long time ago.
This grand-generation of blessing, not yet a prayer.
  Drip…drop…splosh! The hope of the window pane.
We dream, as the outburst streams down to spill
  our dreams, like seeds giving more than the mundane.
God saturates our lives with more than we will.

  It’s raining Summer all over this land of honey-wheat.
Though droll and gray, a grateful soak gifts a sun rise.
  My flower petals, leaves and boughs bathed in heat
and nourishing drink, replenishing the owls, and other wise.
  Ker-splash, the puddles of inky-mud, stain the shins,
  leave me, us, them, refreshed and sodden with grins.

Angel Wings

Take me on a journey with your Angel wings
Where we both fly together high above the clouds.
Above and beyond..
Many planes of existence 
Your divinity and sweetness melts within me
Oh sweet Angel..
Your love saturates my soul
I am completely bathed in comfort and peace..
As you wrap your wings around me

In a state of bliss 
With your everlasting love

Take me on a journey with your Angel wings
 Where my soul is always in a state of becoming

floating

the sky opens up 
saturates the earth so fast 
we all float like ducks

Song of The Multicolored Malay Lacewing Butterfly No 11: ABBA

Tropical Impressionist ascenders,
colorist defenders were everywhere,
Multicolored Malay Lacewings ... there,
added ambiance to the fanfare years,
the species are restricted to forest
reserves due to its flowering host plant,
Adenia's, in the regions, cate's length,
colors change, sociable, pupae process,
soon a new adult emerges and mates,
confirming progressions of the species.
Unique to Asian Isles in the Southeast,
black, white, yellow, red, bluish saturates.
Monet at a distance would have caught flight,
colorful butterflies, shadow's midst light.

BLESSED AQUATIC WATERS FLOWS-

Blessed healing holy 
Waters part the lands 
and in the waters holy Waters flowing stands
from the mountain sides riveting cooling warming 
Waters touch my body saturates my soul
Blessed so are it's healing Holy Waters 
Shower me makes me whole

2/1/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2024

The Healing of a Grateful Nation

The fog clears as we hear the,
War cries in the distance,
In our crisp new grey uniforms.
They tell us of the ideology,
That propels us to war.
Our eyes have been shielded,
By their lies, and we believed them as,
We were lambs being led to the slaughter.
But our women and children,
Are the true victims of war.
Iron blades thrusting deep into our bodies,
While feeling the searing pain in our hearts.
I lay on the ground as I heard the blood drip,
From the bodies of my brothers.
Their blood saturates the ground,
Cursing all of us in the future.
We continue to have nightmares of the unforgiving,
In the hallowed ground of a cursed nation.
The horror of war brings the reality,
Of pain, death, and the cruelty,
Of a torn nation that.
Will be felt for decades.
One day in the future,
All men will be created equal,
Not by the color of their skin,
But the intelligence of their mind.
This is when we will begin to heal as a nation.
Yet, 158 years later, in 2023, the Supreme Court,
Has to remind us that all men are created equal.

Marionette

A marionette to the mind,
Whispering fading schematics,
Deluging the heart and soul, in a 
Juxtaposition of good and evil, 
Betwixt Heaven and hell, amidst
Snowdrifts that swirl before my eyes, while 
Spiritless shadows restlessly carouse;
Discordantly, far from reach,
Vagrantly ambling across
Deadened Arcadias, glimpsing 
Floating embers, in wake of 
Vivid firestorms, swallowing me whole,
Faltering with every step I take,
Decelerating towards the escape I seek,
As it rhythmically scars my timorous nature, 
Awakening the monsters hidden deep within-seeing red-
Bleeding out miasmic toxins, as noxious
Spores erupt, immersed in a haze of austerity, 
While it seeps and saturates, throughout 
Malignant wounds exposed, undulating between 
The storms of push and pull, as daunting
Tasks, of rippling sequences, splits my 
Chasmic core.
Soulless footprints are all that remain, as 
Moon tides wash ashore, ebbing away
Towards dystopian depths.

Precious Glorious Rainy Good New Day

Precious Glorious Rainy Good New Day Beloved As the Father calls upon us within His gentle thunder  voice. Awakening your sweet gentle heart within a New Day rainfall. As every drop of rain I see, I feel saturates my eyes penetrates my skin blesses touches my soul. I am cleansed in Him. 


8/2/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2023©

Chamomile

So sweet the smell of Chamomile
Kissed by the passing breeze above your shining smile
The light of your silent lyric lingers
While golden tones enhance our warm desire

Outside the sun-soaked window
My thoughts splash upon the path and rise
To paint a panorama of time filled brevity
Inviting memories that brought me here

With you across the table
In the mists of steeping tea
Our cups sit filled with gratitude
Of lilting reveries

I sip the flowering Chamomile
It saturates my senses
In the endearing light
That washes upon your soulful face

While I listen in the glow of your silent lyric
Our tenderness brings me home.

July 12, 2023

Kissed By the Passing Breeze Awakening Poetry Contest
Sponsored by John Lawless

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