Says do dem tok
SWAY
Tey belong no oda way to tok
MYSTERY BODI BE JUSS WAKA
MYSTERY HEART BE JUMPING
Steady growing
Sorely dawning don com
I DANCE FOR DI WIND
MOVIN-GROOVING
Prancing-ants sweetening struck
RAPIDWAKA
HEYYY HEY JUSS WANNA SWAY
SAYS DO THEY SAY
sway
TEY BE LONE NO OTHER WAY
TO SAY
sway
Mystery body be just moving
Mystery heart be jumping
STEADY GROWING
SORELY DAWNING HAS COME
I dance in the wind
MOVIN-GROOVING
PRANCING-ANTS SWEETENING STRUCK
Rapid moving
HEYYY! HEY JUST WANNA
SWAY
If you look to
the palm of your hand
expecting to see
mansions and roads of
gold, you will be sorely
disappointed – it is a
spiritual truth,
forced to use physical
language
literal interpreters of the
Bible, look more to your
heart, and less to your
head
akin to finding a cure for
love, in a medical journal,
when love only became an
illness, when men started
treating it as a virus or
bacteria – love is never a
weakness nor predator, in fact,
our most faithful protector
and strength!
Horizon bound!
In sight of Nevermind's abode...
A brush of lilies here-there trace
This breathless, stony road.
By the creaky passing of
Yon rigid, horse-drawn hearse,
It pains to see such lively ones
So sorely lacking mirth.
All time has passed!
Comes judgement day.
Seek not to listen as He
Straddles His commode;
Try not to hear it as His bowels
Let loose their slick, wet load.
Focus instead upon His lunatic decree.
Upon His gavel, trailing dreams, He
Wields with such uncanny glee...
Weep...such sweet remorse...
Pure, pristine sin you've yet to see.
Where ere befell a guiding light
Shining eyes beheld a glory
Holp toward a muted purpose—
A distant feigning glimmer,
Beyond the pale of words.
An aching need to be remade,
A sculptor's hand; a brutal vision
A child; a blank canvas,
A naivety, a submissive nature,
An eagerness to please.
Lead them to a dimming light,
There amidst our dying shadows;
There betwixt the Sun and Night,
Where line the winding gallows.
Where shame forsakes the birth-right
That a darker voice be heard.
And offer up their souls of light
Like the flourishing of birds.
The blinding faith sees not the wraith
Whose night has coiled a cold embrace.
The sun shall nevermore break
Where the twilight, some sayeth,
Precedes its visage upon the lake.
Darkness shall have usurp'd the day
And those who needed believe
Shall have naught to say,
Atop the boroughs as they grieve,
Bearing the known regrets
And we—
The freedom used to deceive,
To let embolden depravity,
To watch the flames spread despair and misery.
The freedom to preach hate and heresy,
To wrongfully endure—
For which we all shall sorely pay.
All nature has a voice —
But apparently not for singing:
Mine left class ears' sorely ringing.
Some are far better at dancing —
However, not I: my fancy footwork
Made the instructor painfully sigh.
Others are better with words for writing —
My composition made the teacher cry, though
It was supposed to be a comedy —
Today I will attempt archery – Hey, where’s
Everyone running off too!?
Salty tastebuds are now aghast,
I am left with this stark contrast.
The coffee went cold way too fast,
a minute passed, a minute passed.
Already chilled and filled with ice,
the temp couldn’t be more precise.
What it sorely lacked? A bit of spice.
Bland at full price, bland at full price.
I fear when darkness steals the light.
And your image, I lose sight,
For in it, I always find delight—
Of staring, not for a brief, nor slight.
I tremble when silence deafens the music,
And hear not the sound I seek;
For your voice, soft and meek,
Inspires hope, never so bleak.
I quiver when coldness douses the warmth,
And ashes the fire from the hearth;
For your embrace is light to my path,
Wrapping me tender, like a swath.
I dread when rancor drowns the bliss.
And moments with you, I sorely miss
For the time of love, I always wish
Casting loneliness down the abyss.
Be my comfort, always,
My unending strength;
For none could fill your place —
Your love and tenderness.
When children are the target,
We begin to write our horror stories,
For what will remain of us in this world we call home?
What will become of the echoes of soles and heels on the streets at dawn and twilight?
When children are the target,
Who will schools open their doors to?
Who will harmonise the voices of the instructors on the assembly ground?
Who will sit behind those desks with keen eyes, curious minds, and warm smiles?
Who will rush out of their classrooms at the sound of the bell to the awaiting embrace?
When children are the target,
Who will bring colour to our days at home?
Who will run joyfully through the sunlit fields, glowing with the leaves and petals?
Who will sit with us, gazing at the night sky, awed by its beauty?
When children are the target,
Grief will rise like smoke from our homes,
The graveyard will mourn for the trampled buds,
The universe will rage and fume,
The elements will be sorely displeased.
When children are the target,
The race we run will be futile,
The applause will not reverberate,
And the portrait of our society will remain perpetually blotched.
February 4, 2026.
When reading heralded lines
I feel I am betraying
a poetic brotherhood
that seems, always, to be
making much of little:
a scrap, a comment (about a bird, perhaps --
or a comparison of a worm in the dirt
to some far-fetched abstraction.)
The humanity we all should share feels
sorely lacking. And clumsy, pathetic
grappling to elevate the lowly
to a semblance of earned achievement
(and not succeeding)
demeans us all.
"Mea culpa! Ibi dixit."
(I too am guilty. There, I've said it.)
My MLK was from my day
He made speeches like MLK
Today I looked up on my phone
And there it was, he was gone
It hasn't hit me like others did
Greif is there but under a lid
New Justice and Freedom
Was where we were lead
Him leading the Joshua way
With God in front from day to day
Few get the titles disciple and apostle
But they come earned and death affirms
He finally got the reward he earned
His death will bring about things sorely learned
Discrimination and prejudice were rarely heard
But God has a way of using many verbs
The speechless will now speak
Preachers will now preach
Mourners will now march
Judges have begun to judge
Politician will know what to say
Today is another MLK Day
Dedicated to Jessy Jackson
Darkin hearts sees with beating eyes;
I hope you up with my spirit embracing hands;
Viewing arms circumstance melatonin;
Savory you I do;
I hold you with my soul;
I'm never letting go;
I see you breathing sweetly;
Golden in my mind;
I taste you as sweet;
Lean you're a flower;
A second yet eternal time;
Heart ticks what time I receive,
you sorely I do;
I receive you;
1/18/26
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2026
The pleasure distilled from those hours spent
Seep down to my heart and soul ever pent
So that all the night my eyes might endure
Thy supple form and softly sweet demure
What ails a man might thou proffer cure
Thou art what makes a man love the lure
And would take thy hand as his and withal
His heart giveth to thee as would a thrall
By the rim of the lake the cherry blossoms fall
By the rim of the lake I confess all
My love beams like the sun upon the lake crystal clear
This moment will remain for me, timeless and dear
And whence I wake a part of me remains here
Where honesty and dream dwell free of fear
For whence I wake, I know thou wilt not be here
And though thy suffering has ended,
Avails me little cheer
Sorely I miss thee
And wish thou wert here
Geeky Hermione Granger
At Hogwarts, she's no stranger ;
With twisted gibberish, she'd whip a spell
That could make Dumbledore sorely unwell !
First Place
~
from J K Rowlings' book series, Harry Potter
---- Sorely the remains of " Paul Perkins"
...is not beneath nothing it's not his true self that resides below. But is his remains flesh, bone, skeletor and teeth. His choose essence is within Spirit as a soul goes back to God. The breath God gave him. And the family he left behind that is how we now can see him
PAUL PERKINS
Grandfather
Brother Uncle Husband
11/25/25
Written by James Edward Lee Sr 2025
My heart is a harbor
For pain and despair
Everyday I grasp for a moments peace - it teases but never really there
My heart is a harbor
For affliction to the highest degree
Both my mind and heart - will someday rejoice being free of me
My heart is a harbor
That clings to misery of the present and times past
My image is at the worlds mercy - how long will this last
My heart is a harbor
For dreams no longer alive
Days of hopelessness staring at me - wondering how will I survive
My heart is a harbor
With torment waiting it's turn
Only to feel numb I do sorely yearn
My heart is a harbor
Waiting for destiny's final chapter
It's only then - the future will no longer be my captor
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