Short Vies Poems

So peculiar
It springs up its head
On late Winter’s bed.  This morning it was
That fence in my hand from pulling

— where put upon, few see.
Smart on its petals, color vies,

Look on my form.
I’m run 
Into deep yellow madness....

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Open secret, we cannot share
Even though we wish to
Very few dare, with truth to pair
To shed past, learn anew

Right here, before our eyes
As love for love so vies
God within our heart sighs

None may ferret
Open secret

14-December-2021
Quietus ...

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WOMAN VIEWED BY A MAN IN HEATED NATURN

I see you in the morn
See you in the spring
As summer warms
Brazing heats scorns
Your beauty rains
As my mind is clouded
Envision you drive me insane
As a man who vies a woman in heated nature

10/04/18
written words by James Edward Lee Sr.©2018...

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Diametric …
art and commerce
Twining symbols
colors adverse
 Yin & Yang
divergent segues 
Each stigmatic
 bloddy payday
Fraternal image
Louvre / Montmartre
Black tie bidding
cobbled heart
A poor man sings
a rich man vies 
On bartered canvas
 —truth defies

(Dreamsleep: November, 2023) 
...

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On the little long dying cherry tree 

the flutes of autumn play on a beautiful 

august day that sees its ending a long way away. 

The russet vies with Lincoln green to be seen 

to play the more appealing tune.



Oh why when these flutes turn their colourful tunes it 

sounds a haunting beauty yet when we compete our 

autumn tunes better to block all ears unless we play 

the songs of loving tears....

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Words tumble like dice,
nonsense vies with sense.
Life plays hide and seek
with itself.

An artisan mixes clay,
gathers new mud,
spits into it.

He molds a prayer,
words shape themselves.

Each word is a fractal,
of a pregnant womb,
not all, but all the parts
appear
for his seeking hands
to gather in and structure.

Later, once the clay has set,
the worker will craft a cradle,
to reveal the truth of mud.

...

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As amber eve paints ochre skies
Her lips I kissed, turn ruby rose
And dreams of heart my passion vies
As amber eve paints ochre skies
When romance gleams in lovers’ eyes
It’s me she picks the moon well knows
As amber eve paints ochre skies
Her lips I kissed, turn ruby rose

October 29, 2020
Placed 1st: Pick-A-Title, Vol 24- Triolet - Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Title chosen: Phantasmagoria
Eight syllables per line (howmanysyllables.com)...

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The second time around seems harder.
Perhaps slogging through the heavy air,
or seeking that old fire
casts over everything a dim, dark pallor.

Past victories gained have been broken.
Reclaiming new footing, and stalking
rougher higher peaks and eddies
vies with anticipated promises and fortune.

Third time may be much brighter.
Surely the lot revolutions, turns wheels
to a completely fresh canvas?
Sweeps away cobwebs and traps something righter....

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The ceiling lowers a chandelier’s glow,
A suspended drizzle of glass fireflies.
Marble tiers like a sharp-edged ruffle,
Scaled by lissome feet in buffed leather shod.
As jewels’ shine with sequins’ luster vies,
And pomade’s glints with brilliantine's scuffle,
A beauty to make all womanhood blush,
Ascends the stairs, and with her all eyes rise.
Silk gown’s long train trailing e’er so graceful,
A teardrop’s upflow that brings down a hush;
Young squires turn faithful....

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