In this exciting times, new doors are shaped,
Fresh pathways for us to boldly tread.
Authority over lions, we will claim,
Journeying without fear with full steam.
With new perceptions, we will shut lions’ roar,
Break new ground, like never before.
Our souls, at peace, it is well,
Opening new wells, our promises swell.
Heavens are warring in a decisive display,
Secure doors of shelter, with faith’s out play.
For trauma uncovers our true Shelter,
Shield of faith, built with a sevenfold layer.
Woman of God be blessed
Rest in His love and His awesomeness
Blessed are you woman of God
All is well beloved I pray for you often
All is well beloved Our Father covers you
And you're abundance your children your family
Your loved ones may you have a heavenly hands of protection
May you sleep as a baby in the arms of your mother
As the Father loved
Safe and sound Our Father shall awaken you
In the New Day Dawn, Joy, Love, Peace
Woman of God be blessed rest
In His love and His awesomeness blessed
Are you woman of God
All is well beloved I pray for you often
All is well beloved Our Father covers you
I speak it so,
sevenfold,
in Jesus mighty name Hallelujah
and Amen
4/20/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2023
This being the Father's last new day
Monday
in December let
us praise and thank Him
for this day and all these those tomorrows
He will provide
Rejoice be in His Joy we are His bride
you're blessed to be His
invested He loves you so
I love you
I just do
May our Father pin heaven
Grant you sevenfold favor
gleanings of more ...
More of His heart always in ALWAYS Amen
12/27/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2022
The selfsame page echoes wordlessly like barren lord
To write in characters of light, Oh! bucket headed bard
Understand, art-like slumber must set-the soul free
Beyond time's fabric walls, in boundless circles waterski
Across the black besmeared realms of dreary night
Where passion cleaves darkness with fanged light.
Tread forth into the beauteous lustre of things
And hark, how sweet the drunken nightingale sings
Cheering languid Cynthia and the slow bursting bud
Oh! come empty bosomed lad
Let the primeval tongue of deft nature teach
You how to fold forms into voluptuous speech.
The sun through verdure fields has unrolled
His sweet placid beam of burning gold
And how gaily whispers the roaming scented wind
Blowing voluptuous strains pleasant than sevenfold lutes combined
Revealing to the dancing emerald leaves galore
Divine secrets hoarded in mediaeval days devoid of law.
When the throbbing heart of nature tunes the soul
Grand refined wisdom is your to attain
Which nor cognitive lore nor pedantic clouds of scroll
Can ever shower upon the mortal train.
Leaves chant in brown, "Thirty days hath November, too."
What is that I hear? I draw a lingering breath,
as I contemplate this year, the outwash of death.
Autumn has arrived. And I remember anew...
We grasshoppers rest, unlike the diligent ant;
chills we don't address and our breakdowns break again.
Short of sevenfold success, winter will bring pain.
My hope: that God will bless our striving, scarce and scant.
At this November's arrival, the count is bleak;
we search for humility; second, we lack truth.
Where is civility? Murder and theft reign uncouth.
For mankind's survival, selfish mayhem we wreak.
Are we connecting the dots of winter's design?
In our bent to fight, peace and patience are displaced;
whereas compassion and foresight we have disgraced,
to deliberate woolgathering we resign.
October 7, 2020
i draw a lingering breath,
what is that I hear?
as I contemplate this year,
the coming of death.
“Thirty days hath September”
the leaves chant in brown
autumn arrives, falling down.
And we remember…
our own breakdowns once again -
chills we don't address.
Short of sevenfold success -
winter will bring pain.
Unlike the diligent ant
we grasshoppers rest
in hopes that God will have blessed
striving - scarce and scant
On winter's close arrival
God counts to seven
virtues borne out in heaven,
for man's survival.
Starting with humility;
second, he lists truth.
Murder he counts as uncouth
use civility.
Peace and harmony displace
evil’s bent to fight
Do what’s honest and upright
grant your kin God’s grace.
To fall's woolgath'ring resign,
celebrate wise thoughts.
Begin to connect the dots
of winter’s design.
September 30, 2019
envelope rhyme
God's golden green gouache
Shines seamless summer sunshine
Lovely living life
Love Within The Light
Heavens of light, heavens so bright...send me your superstar tonight
Heavens of fire, of heavens desire...send your angels that I may acquire
Heavens of gold, break the mold...send me your love sevenfold
Heavens of fury, of judge and jury...send me no more worry
In the radiant resonating light I bathe upon the shores of praying night
With phantasmal photons in flight speeding spectrums, moon of white
Heavens love a luring luminescence the flooding of falling fluorescence
Amidst its incandescent presence, penetrates the heart in acquiescence
Within the Temples of Lunar Light beings of illumination, rising reunite
Guardians of the Sun and second sight carriers of the soul into twilight
Love transported on angels wings chanting choirs and orchestral strings
Ancient light above Pharaohs and Kings is the love that sunshine brings.
Sept.22.2017
CONTEST 335 any form,any theme,max of 25 lines
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
The time has come for them to die.
They shall feel the wrath of what they have done.
They shall understand the full extent of pain.
All the hurt and pain they have given will be sent back to them sevenfold.
They all will die a horrid death, filled with both hate and pain.
No more niceness lives in me it has been replaced with both hate and pain.
This time around I will feel none of the pain, they will feel all my hurt, all my pain.
I have been tortured for too long, now it's their turn.
No more shall I bleed, no more shall I cry over this blood.
No more slit wrists and bloody cuts of the skin.
Those days are long and gone, now it's your turn.
So run if you can, but you can never hide.
Not from me I know where you like to hide.
I no longer cry myself to sleep, now my dreams they are nightmares of your death.
I am no longer the person you once knew, I have changed into something new.
Something dark filled with only hate and rage.
It has to stop, because in the end I will fail you belaya roza.
by a proxy delivered
a days sour face
its painted eye fixed on jacob's ladder
and salvation's cherubs
who seven times sevenfold tell the tale
but the tale is threadbare by the time they have spun the spin
all call each other rookies as they verbally fistfight
over the breadcrumb leavings
charred remains of her melted mind
smoulder weakly in the
interment rain
she would sit in the dirt
sketching beautiful things
known for being pretty for all the eyes that don't see
leaving the brick and mortar life
for everything imagination tells you
is so beautiful
you don't want to change the world
just want your world to change
Multitudes give me to innumerable receivers
As unremarkable, invincible and indiscriminate moments
While invisible to most I remain
Yet remarkable and individual, each gift
Unforgettable, isolated, singular and selfless
Unique joyfulness I retain
I bring a smile, a tear of joy
My numbers are untold, my craving sevenfold
Increased awareness I regain
If by now you have not guessed my name
I am a random act of kindness
To each in time, I come again
11/03/2014
The needle prickling begings of fear,
As punishment of things not done
at their hands.
Mistaken for the belief that their past
horrifying deeds should
be held against them.
Intoxicated parents not caring what their offsrpings do,
Until the crime is brought before them
then they are punished sevenfold by abuse and
other dangerous means their intoxicated parents can think up.
It is held against them and sometimes its leads to sucicide,
unless the parents can gather the helpful resources
they need to be better parents.
Love takes its toll on every faltering form
Minds are all a blur, a never-ending storm
They all in time take pleasure in other wretches’ pain
Relieving their blistery hearts, subsiding the pouring rain
And as they cite a verse or two, they write it from the heart
Though none of it makes sense at first, at least there is a start
Pandemonium takes the best of a masterpiece at hand
Letting it rot in loneliness, a forsaken piece of land
The mind is screaming sevenfold for comfort and a way
To make others see the good in all that lessens day by day
And the vultures soar upon the earth, with its rancid dead
Stealing away the masterpiece and detaining it instead
They cry in the gravel below for love to overthrow
Never will their cries be heard, and this I only know
For in a deathful life of toil they artfully may say
The words unsaid but written fresh, only to decay
To seep into the ground, and back into the trees
The lead and ink and everything…smearing us free
My MP3 player; My notebook,
My headphones; My pen,
The music; The script,
The bass; The ink flow,
Bullet for my Valentine; Robert Frost.
My CD player; My piece of paper,
My stereo; My pencil,
The sound; The wording,
The rewind; The eraser,
Avenged Sevenfold; Shel Silverstein.
Windows Media Player; Microsoft Word Document,
My speakers; My keyboard
The volume; The font,
The play button; The print button,
Nirvana; William Shakespeare
Two of my greatest loves
He's gone.
Death has stolen him
Where has he been hidden?
I search and search
But cannot find him
It won't be the same without him!
What have you done, death?
You've taken the wrong person!
Take me instead, and spare him
For everyone needs him more than me
Pry his drumsticks from my dead hands
And give them to him
For he needs to live on
To make beautiful music
For the fans who miss him so.
(NOTE: I've written this poem in memory of my favorite drummer, and my favorite band.
James 'Jimmy' Owen Sullivan, Aka The Rev, died on the 28th around 1pm. He was the
drummer and backup vocalist of the band Avenged Sevenfold. The cause of death at the
moment is natural causes. Is it just me or is it kind of odd that he died on the 28th and he
was 28 years old?)
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