the orchid lamp burns low against the screen of jade
a silver hairpin pierces the frozen musk
kingfisher quilt lies undone
eaglewood breathes unrisen dusk
dripping copper drains last watch
bronze worn where our first shadows seamed
morning mirror broken bride
embroidered sash unlaces on the hearthstone
the spring silkworm spun its chamber shut
silk wound against a bridal drum untouched
red wax sealed—spent wick weeps into the stele
beside the moonlit sill the brush-knife cleaves the charred core
the seal breaks at midnight
a single scent of eaglewood rises
Kunlun incense
rain on Kunlun has fallen for thirty years
water settles Kunlun-hore
the rain not yet wet
The diamond shines with emerald grace,
A sacred, timeless, open space.
Where leather cracks and voices blend,
And summer dreams will never end.
The pitcher winds, a coiled spring,
To set the summer air to sing.
The white seamed sphere in sudden flight,
A streak of chalk against the light.
With a wooden bat and a focused eye,
The batter waits beneath the sky.
A swing of power, swift and grand,
The magic wand of summer land.
Then, rounding bags of canvas white,
Beneath the stadium’s glowing light,
They touch the plate and make us cheer,
The greatest game of the year.
No mean to fall
yet i received di call
felt it komot for place
yet amazingly graced
i received ya faith
involuntary. For voluntary
seamed, be
uncontentioned,
do i mention though
you de sweet?
you complete me
involuntary
Didn't mean to fall
Yet I received the call
Felt it out of place
Yet amazingly graced
I received your faith
Involuntary. In voluntary
Seamed, to be
Uncontentioned,
Did I mention though
You are sweet?
You complete me
Involuntary
3/23/26
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2026
Nano nil glitch, stroke; flow lubed leach.'
Synch rich, stichless seamed.. interlocutional smooth streamed'
Formed by in-flow, tronic sensed
Fluid deep texture, by each slide'
No stroke denied, draw and thrust.'
Inspiration (less dust) sidling idling'
To form in a texture, of influx overflow.'
Slick up my sentances; an arrest-less go.'
A new tapestry, out-grows.)
Love is a gift straight from heaven above
when it is right it feels like wearing gloves
Love is a virtue for the beloved
offer it gently to the one you love.
Bestow it like the doves do up above,
seamed as one always soaring and in love
I cry when I think about my mom
I was bad at being a son
I thought she had so many
that she loved more than me.
The son that always
seamed too busy
to even
visit
her
Luminous
lights appear
in my long dreams,
as my soul, so it seems, holds high
a periscope
for my heart and mind to see
every surrounding scene
beyond the heavy, seamed quilt of history
laid over my long sleep,
my long night — as deeply
black as the pupils of my eyes
mirroring a moonless, starless mid-night;
yet my soul floats
within this ever-amassing eternity —
wherein gleams an airglow for some sight
of the softly glistening atmosphere’s heights…
arising
heavenward
and shimmering
~ while here within me
longings emanate
(for a communion with God
and a complete life)
appearing luminous and divinely embossed
— comprising my long, impassioned prayers
— all into making
the long necklace
of gold-linked
wishes and psalmed gratitdes
I kneel to sing
on these long nights
before my long sleeping…
It Raced Red Seamed Weathered,
Moist Dry Weathered,
Down My Track!
A Best In My Steps From The Box, I Sent It, Past The Berry Patch!
A Step, A Swing, Bust The Ball With My Bat,
Hip's Turned, Hand's Tight, Thundered Smash!
Ooh, You Just Had To See It,
A Best In My Steps From The Box We're Leading;
Past, ... Past The Berry And The Gopher, .... Patch!
the large bouncy ball nestles in the basket
the small bumpy one rolls into the hole
the hard, seamed one flies over the stadium fence
the ball that's kicked lands in the net of the goal
what is it about its round form
that fascinates everyone so, that
as we grow, we often trade one for another
always looking to 'have a ball,' you know
"Poetry” is a most powerful instrument
like a flute that is to be played.
Also, it is a pungent possibility
like a newly created perfume put on.
Yet, free to all, and for all to wear.
This is to be adorned, and is
one of the most of the highest of solemn calls.
Words that are spoken and then engraved,
never to be forgotten or ignored.
It can reshape the world
that is in pieces and so, so torn.
A restorative medicine
to a life that is very, very worn.
An elixir of life and
a healer of lives beset by strife.
A lifter of our inner thoughts
and our buried emotions.
A fire-works of explosions
raising us up to a newer dimension.
A reversal of cacophonies, man-made devastations.
Words of pretty portraits and musical orchestras
of artistically crafted words:
Seamed stitched and woven and fashionably embroidered.
Also, made into a mighty steely shining sword.
Dedicated to My Son, The Bedtime Kissy-Keeper Giver
Like a virgin to stressed messes surging,
I struggled with bridges on parental ridges
when I wore both mom and work britches.
Young years adhered pleasure steered twitches
but grown changes sewed pressure stitches.
I changed to a day and night striving
female getter-doner; an energizer twit-nit
who conquered to-do lists into done bits.
I became every weekday employee,
pay postured towards green seen garnered.
I was more a get-byer than I was a
future green funds keen accumulator.
Nightly, I morphed into dinner’s meal cooker
still dressed in work time's pantyhose stress.
I dreamed of a pajama seamed frame
before next becoming a kitchen mess cleaner,
homework tutor, tub time clean scrubber and
loving night-nighttime book reader.
I found no awakes take was sweeter
than my child’s beddy-bye kissy keepers
and prayed my son’s most precious styled love
would counter the stresses that I was made of.
So tell me was your soul weaved from platinum gold, liquified hot, bold mold when cold.
Tell me was your soul seamed with blindfold string, piece by piece so effortlessly, spiritually free
Oh baby please tell me was your soul dipped in gleam, a bright white light beam, directly into your bloodstream
Don’t you see your soul fascinates me,
So old, uncontrolled water mold, where’s the threshold, how do I unfold all that you behold
So my soul is so full of grieve, qunderachieved, with a heart on my sleeve
What do you see when you perceive me spiritually?
My soul so bold, not dipped in gold but aged mold, so old, covered in coal, a dust bowl, Aurora circle
Maybe you can see my soul isn’t half as glistening clean, but still it’s a pretty mean warrior machine, buffering to sheen as I speak... could you trust me
Soulful, is so full, every inch of mineral, drenched gold, covered in steel wool, it’s beautiful, are we compatible, maybe my love is magical, or unfathomable, let’s not make this tragical, to be honest I’m a bit radical, maybe a bit unpractical,
But tell me was your soul weaved with platinum gold, liquified hot, bold mold when cold?
WITH CONCERNS THAT ONLY BENIFETS HER THOUGHTS AND VEIWS OF WHO SHE Wishes TO MARRY
SHE IGNORED THE NEEDS OF HER LOVER TO CONSULT WITH HIM WHO SHE HAD MADE SECRET AND UNKNOWN TO HER HUSBAND
SHE LACKED THE CONCERN OF A LOVING WIFE
AND LACKED THE CONCERN OF A PERSON WHO BELEIVED IN CAUSE AND EFFECT
HER VENGENCE WAS SEAMED IN THE MELMS OF THE CLOTHES SHE WORE
THEN AND THAT WHICH WOULD MAKE HIM FURIUOS HE KNEW NOTHING OF.
MIGHT HE WHO IS UNKNOWN REMAIN UNKNOW
UNTIL MY WORDS SHALL MAKE MY HUSBAND BEG ME ON HIS KNEES AS IGNORANT, THAT THIS SECRET MIGHT DESTROY HIM.
THOSE THAT WHO RESPECT HIM SHALL DESPISE HIM, THOSE WHO ADORE HIM SHALL MAKE HIM UNWANTED AND MIGHT THEY BRAG OF HIS DESTRUCTION
MIGHT THOSE WAYS I HAVE TREATED HIM, MAKE SCRIPT FOR HIS FUTURE AND HOW OTHER MIGHT TREAT AND VEIW HIM
THAT I AM WOAMN AND MY BODY HAS BEEN LOVED BY OTHERS
I SHALL BE VEIWED AS WORST OF EVILEST
A lustful obsession
Mistrustful connection
Sullied reflection
Imagined dream
In passion, seamed
A thought intertwined
Lost, enshrined
In a fanciful bliss
Romantic mist
The kiss of shattered
enchantments
Romantic’s blood
Frantic
Spill of scattered hopes
Battered ropes untwisted
Mind ballistic
A maddened heart, ablaze
A fire’s sparkling rage
Desire lost in plagues
Of fantasy unfilled
Magic’s backfiring
Tragic transpiring
Demise of hopes to love
Soured dove
Depleted of sweetness
Darkness sewn in obliqueness
An ocean’s drowning deepness
Chokehold of disparity
Disposed of clarity
Mineswept in the meadows
Of his heart
The unrequited spark
I must leave!!!
I must leave!!!
Before it all
Becomes such!!!
*Before It Becomes Such*
Crystal Waters
Crystal waters
And foreign rain
Bring
Fluffy clouds of
wool and tweed
Cashmere, engineered
Cotton fields of fiber, seed and flappy lobe
Supplying fabric, textured textile
Thread and string
Spun into spheres
Layered and interwoven
Seamed, stitched and hemmed
A sheet, a leaf , a membrane
Chained captives
Held in bondage
Man-made machine
Black bodies on an assembly line
Harvesting white crop
Their sweat hide their tears
Rag cover their frame and cadaver
Mere androids
Their soul caged in
The whip , their law and discipline
Sighs of weary hands and tired feet
A mercy plea
The church of suffering
Shall render no more
Madame and monsieur ,dignity restored
Marckincia Jean
Free verse
08/24/19
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