Mary, mary (with melody) even our bodies are built on sacrifice. Have you ever seen an organism of the opposite sex that not only lets you enter it but also expands to make room for you and bleeds? We need to play the dead in this world and wake up in some fig tree bark. Those who've never been wounded mock the wounded. In the end, they long to find a solace in an untouched maghony box, scattering their rotten figs into a very box they ruthlessly worn down. Time of leaving came, spring that hides into autumn turned to winter. I left the life that I entered quietly, left my unfaithful partner at the last junction. Wave sounds inside me was loud enough to suppress the noises of cascades. Couldn't hear the people who love me inside that mess. Feeding a baby all of sudden, I'm about to recognize...
That's the baby I cuddled under that fig tree; carrying tiny blue light on her eyelashes. Waves shutted down.
08/03/2026
To be so misunderstood
How maddening tis.
For soul, its profit alone
Who, speaking up, groan.
Who's cravings run counter to
Whom the ego feeds.
Their sum includes what as rife
Starves world of real life.
The distinguished guests
raised their crystal goblets
toast the host's lavish,
midnight banquet.
A sudden, violent chill swept
the parlor as the grandfather
clock shrieked thirteen times.
The exquisite roast on the
tarnished platters abruptly
mutated into writhing,
maggot- infested human
limbs.
Horrified screams died in
their throats as the dining
room doors slammed shut
and vanished into the drywall.
They turned to flee, only to
realize they were chewing on
their own severed tongues.
Snowplows rumble through the night.
A distant tomorrow
already applauds a surprised sunrise.
Later, Sol turns the slushy ice to diamonds
while it digs the world out again.
For a while, the land is shoveled up,
cleaned and rolled into paper-light reams.
Whether the earth melts
or grows backyard glaciers,
skyscraping winds will blow down
deeper than ever before.
Eventually winter pileups
are pushed back
by the steamy breath of labor
and the prayers of those who only watch.
Machines continue cleaning up dead spaces,
constructing viewing platforms
for the fur-fluffed and swift winged onlookers.
Lazarus moments come and go
between the humped heaps of ice and snow.
I want to be an artist.
I want to create a piece if be proud of for the rest of my life.
Id peel back the skin, cutting the fat away until it was the perfect size.
then id mold it - shape it until it was just right.
Pulling muscles like clay, threading through blood vessels and veins like string, digging through the mess of myself and scraping away every inch until i loved what i saw.
every flaw,
carved out of my body until all the was left was absolute perfection
when im finished, id stitch the skin back over in a beautiful mess, - tight, trembling
and standing in the mirror, ill know -
i made the greatest art piece id ever see
they say, an artist greatest masterpiece is themselves.
Lot’s wife
Abraham’s wife
Studebaker’s wife
First lady, no name
Women are chattel
To be owned and toyed with
Really?
Is that what we want our daughters and granddaughters to know?
Is this how we want them to feel about themselves?
That they could be put into box cars with pigs by their men?
I roll my eyes at the stupidity of history.
Let’s make the history books fair, the men say.
Let’s put one article about a woman at the back of each chapter.
So, the history books now have one hundred and fifty pages about men.
And twelve pages about women.
Equality and fairness.
I hope the girls of today understand
They can become women now, not merely be girls all of their lives.
Difficult since most will figure out they are being disrespected
In every academic history book.
Sometimes I go on a weird out-of-my-head writing spree
Devouring crazy insane ideas
Spitting them up onto a page
This morning is one of those maniacal times
Thoughts are flinging themselves at me
Demanding to be not only heard, but shared
I feel it would be dangerous to ignore them
"BIRDS GATHER ON ELECTRIC LINES
KEEPING THEMSELVES WARM Terzanelle "
Those the little birds warming themselves warmth
on standing electrical and telephone lines
together side by side one by one doth---
~
The bird’s stance summer breathless leaves
adjoining, aligned, snuggle so steadily
gathering amidst buildings homes, and eaves--
~
Giant rush of big galling winds so gust
soar ever so high above skies freighting
fluttering flapping of feather wings thrust
~
leaving flying in groups from grounds gaiting
talons feet embrace lines like humans lust
every so closed close in distance like dating
~
a mixed the couples birds pairing flaring
up so high tens of feet so very high light
above the somewhat warm grounds staring
~
beaded eyes nestled small birds encasing
shares bodily heat keeps from frozen plight
winter cold so the birds warmth embracing
birds on electric lines all day and night
12/23/2023
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2023©
Do what I must,
To keep him happy,
To please him,
Feed his hunger,
Don’t mess up,
Don’t flinch,
Let him touch me,
Smile now,
Hold back your tears,
It’s just once,
Right?
Maybe just once
While sleeping or dreaming
they have a tendency to forget everything;
Is it because they like evenings
and hate mornings?
elves wanted to dress the snowman Rudolph had left.
We need to stack high said the bossy one, Cleft.
They stood shoulder to shoulder until they could reach.
Putting a scarf on the snowman; it was orange, yellow and peach.
Rudolph came back and said “Wow! You guys are fast!”
None of them told him why Snow Flake was wearing a cast.
They did not want Rudolph to think they did not appreciate his gift.
Twinkie was still missing, probably inside a frozen snow drift.
Nothing can be further from the truth
Just look at religion which provides proof
This is a truth we need to scream from the rooftop:
People only label themselves blessed when money is involved!
“What does it profit a man if he gains the entire world but loses his soul”
Don’t be fooled
Money is needed
But the cemetery holds none of it!
Enjoy your life
In the end, it is all vanity!
Let humanity know that you are not
Only blessed when you have money!
Here today, gone tomorrow
Humble yourself in the sight of the Lord
You cannot afford to be too prideful
Don’t be fooled
Money is needed
But the cemetery holds none of it!
Mark Frank
Copyright 2023
words give a lively dance
not staying on the lines of the paper
or in left to right order
or even down the page order
letters are flinging onto the page in every direction
I just saw a crazed T jump onto a Z's back
C stuck out her tongue and two ran off to tattle
the verbs decide to outdazzle the adjectives
racing, chasing, facing, macing, spacing,
These wild wonderful words are excited and joyful
I happily give up the reins
leaning back in my chair
allowing yet another poem to write herself
as every good poem does
They call themselves the Blues Brothers
This does not sound bad said GeeWilliger’s mothers
He had two, a regular one and a step.
They liked the idea of two dogs with pep.
The Blues Brothers came in wearing shades and strumming.
One began on the bongos, it was rather loud drumming.
“hit it!” yelled one, and they began a wild boogie with blues.
I was so excited then that I kicked off my shoes.
They were every bit as good as the other Blues Brothers.
Which other ones? Asked GeeWilliger’s mothers.
He rolled his eyes and gave me a pleading look right then.
I was now dancing and frolicking, these dogs were a win!
words give a lively dance
not staying on the lines of the paper
or in left to right order
or even down the page order
letters are flinging onto the page in every direction
I just saw a crazed T jump onto a Z's back
C stuck out her tongue and two ran off to tattle
the verbs decide to outdazzle the adjectives
racing, chasing, facing, macing, spacing,
These wild wonderful words are excited and joyful
I happily give up the reins
leaning back in my chair
allowing yet another poem to write herself
as every good poem does
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