Short Demises Poems

A body demises,
        not the essence..
        Die our death,
        not our life...
        Only a stage evanishes,
        we lives for the eternal...!...

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With each swing of the swing the sea level rises
each lump of coal burned defrosts the ice shelf
each squeeze on the accelerator Earth's future demises
But its too late, or almost too late to assert oneself
The deed is done; we shall reap what we have sown
Gaia will call us to account, our Earth is not our own....

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His hands badly callused swollen with pain
Working hard in hopes of financial gain
He keeps our house warm
Shoes on our feet
Plenty of food on our table to eat
He ask for no thanks from any of us
For him he does not want a fuss
He always puts us first
His life a hard labor curse
But in the morning he rises 
Goes off to a job he demises
For a better life for us...

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Mid the darkness shallows
Pit across the deepen sights
Blackness circumference barrows
The devise of light
Brilliants though shines
Every bright for you see 
The light ever always firms dines
Demises the darkness flees
Light always sparks
As every sparks turns to light
Light ever always shine out bright
Light darkness is over shun

3/18/25
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2025©
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Murkier the world goes every day, 
Dark clouds cloaking every Sun Ray, 
Wetting the grounds with blood and tears, 
Thunders follow, of pain and fears.

Voyage towards a better place, 
Looking for a trace of solace, 
Poor souls resign the worldly greed, 
From anguish and grief, to be freed. 

Someone rejoiced these demises,
For the vessels held some prizes, 
Worth much more than the souls inside, 
Won only when the angels died....

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Tartaric acid rain of the lost calligraphy
Peels to melt the running emotions
Drains clog beneath dynasties
Commerce to no one in seas
Pourtant je vois ceasefire
See a spark of defiance

Harlequin of belle dame misery
Catatonic brutality ends within me
Phantom of these nigh-mares
Shriek away stares orbs no retinas
Telltale sen em bras lambent
Am I dying nevermore

Mourning my own demises gavotte masquerade
Is that a shimmer of light on my finale...

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