A classic wind upstaged the evening,
Vocalizing Leaves and Tremulous Aria
Branches. On accompanying fused-sand, framed
and clear, began a run of finely tuned
rivulets -- busy writing, I had not
looked, and saw, dark clouds conjugating --
nor sniffed thickening troops of air~ my
sinuses alerting, their usual swelling. Came a lantern's
flash, came a vivid slash, rumbling
likened to a heavily weighted freight-train, with frantic
mind to lighten its burdensome, brooding load.
A good thought conceived in the soil of positivity
making its way through shard and slag
finding its way home into the heart.
The slag is cleverly staggered and thickening
filled with thorns and snags and dirty rags
The good thought forced to play pachinko
with a venomous society.
Battered, fanged and chipped
the good thought's ragged journey end
has it found its way into the honey hole
will there be much of anything left.
I am verb! Created by the divine breath,
coming from primitive events...
Essence of ethereal circumstances,
Plasma of thickening, voids
Of invisible cosmic mysteries,
juice of amalgamated conceptions!
Succinct metamorphosis of balance.
In my primitive molecule, the genesis
the core of physical-chemical reactions...
It is from the axis of me that magically spring,
The health of subterranean energies
And the phantasmagoria of utopian beings!
It was grandma’s last winter.
I watched her hurry outside
to split enough wood so her old kitchen stove
would burn through the new storm
she felt gathering
along the horizon,
its first eiderdown already afloat
on the twilight
settling over her white garden.
From nowhere
a dog tormented by visions
plunged through the drifts
and laid ahold of her leg.
She hacked half through its neck
and crawled to the house,
dragging the axe in her blood-trail
lest she lose it in the snow.
She bandaged her wound at the sink.
My breath frosted the pane,
and rubbing a hole
I peered through the gloom
at the scarlet peony
blooming ‘round the dog’s matted head.
The thickening whorl of snow
gently tousled its fur,
tucking it in
until spring.
Disconsolate obsidian waves crash over crumbling dunes,
Sweeping afflicted grains of sand back into the depths,
Dragging my paralysed soul with them.
Engulfed in despondent riptides,
I gasp for oxygen amongst rippling currents,
As a fiery moon hangs precariously overhead.
Blood-red reflections illuminate the stark waters,
While calls of the lost sing to me,
Like sirens beckoning sailors to their doom—
Louder and louder, until it becomes unbearable.
Flaring arms fill with cortisol,
Burning, tangled within suffocating seaweed.
Farther I get pulled from the shore;
The horizon is growing fainter now with every somber beat of my heart.
Isolation shrouds the thickening atmosphere.
Saline leaks into my mouth, drying my tongue as I frantically spit it out.
Hysterical laughter escapes through lips without realisation.
Dehydration overcomes.
Sanity slips with each sip of water.
My larynx sharply tightens—
Barely a noise can be uttered.
Yet the siren calls of the irretrievable continue to crescendo,
Pulling me into an empty expanse, everlastingly.
If ever we needed to ventilate,
it is now…the thickening tragedy
of lies have become too heavy
for the respiration of living truth…
Indeed…the dire situation
has reached lunging capacity
and the alveoli of reality
are sparking gut-wrenching
diarrheic retribution…
Breathe people…breathe…
check the yellowing mane…
strings of manipulation pulling
thin loose-lips of a sinking ship…
Breathe people…breathe…
the corona of truth shines
its bright light of truth…glowing
around the dark moon of deceit
of Americanism’s tragic turn…
Be mindful… people …scapegoats
come and go…in God, we must trust…
rather than loaning our sacred lives
to ill-fated government iniquities…
As believers—in the Lenten resurrection—
let us be about the business of resuscitation
of our beloved dying nation—yes …ours—built
by the blood-brick masonry of our Ancestors…
Hello…
HELLO?
Nothing.
Silence.
The absence of sound.
Shhh…
I command my body to stay still, to obey, to shrink into the silence.
Rigid.
Unmoved.
It might come back—
SNAP!
Screeches from the winged night guards above slice through the air.
A sudden rush of wind frantically whispers its secrets to the trees.
The stars and moon blink in my wake, and I cry.
I cry out, but their light does not reply.
Did I even speak?
Did I even call?
Maybe the silence is mine.
I long for a response—an answer—
But at what cost?
What if it finds me?
What if it already has—
What if—
it never left?
No. No, I won’t think about that.
But the silence is shifting, stretching, thickening.
It lingers.
It shifts.
It grows.
It listens.
I can't be trapped here with only myself.
Not when the silence is listening.
Not when it breathes.
I will let the silence take me.
Going.
Going.
Gone.
The echo will not return.
Because the echo never was.
Because I never was
Because—
my love life is like a plot in a grand novel,
where dawn stands tall,
yet dusk must kneel
and grovel.
each chapter of it dims as twilight nears,
unleashing darkness that feeds on
the carcass of
waning years.
yet expectation remains high...
waiting for another page
to turn and turn
until old age.
meanwhile, the plot keeps thickening...
bringing to life
more of the fears
in a world full of strife.
yet love keeps its shine in the distance,
like a mirage that gleams in space,
offering false satiation,
only to fade into non-existence.
but the story will never end...
until the Author of all things
chooses to write an epilogue
of how much of his love we all depend.
The opportunity sparked a fierce desire
A cunning liar is trying to conspire
Plotting schemes that would require
Causing the masses tears to flood the mire
The choir sang with voices higher
Looking for a bold lady or noble squire
Capable of mending our old attire
Bake these words in an air fryer
The hissing revealed a situation growing dire
Look a devious flyer is soaring above the spire
Falsely proclaiming tales to inspire
Hiding in the quagmire as an actual occupier
Their words thickening the air like a humidifier
The supplier is attempting rewire
All of us who dare to still inquire
An amplifier’s hum drew the self-proclaimed sire
Who foolishly gazed at stars with his heart’s desire
Each promise made proved to be a modifier
The identifier called it out as a testifier
Through it all the proclamations became slier
We need to rise above the snake oil salesmen’s ire
Buckle up and find the strength not to retire
Find the heart to not back down or tire
So, a rich surfer kid with multiple degrees
whacks a rich CEO of a health insurance company
and suddenly he's the robin hood of the A.I generation
feeding the blood of the rich and greedy
to the uninsured and needy.(top that Greta Thunberg)
Folks this is simply another facet of
the redistribution of wealth
Part of the great reset that they had promised us.
Where the middle class pays the premiums of the poor
getting hammered once again.
While the elites and forever politicians
watch the widening division
from atop the insider trading hill
a thickening layer of sedimentation
Far above the unfruited flood plain
unblemished.
stumbling, my way through the maze,
for what purpose and going where?
evening is thickening in to darkness,
a vague fleeting thought of where am I?
no one to call to, no one to share life with,
just legless sojourn and in a pointless daze,
a hint of hunger, of fear and fatigue,
as I suddenly come to a clearing of open field,
walk through miles of soggy land,
but still that worrying thought,
where am I?
A familiar house to my left, bricks
and windows with no one inside,
just darkness, silence and emptiness,
I walk through the walls and past the house,
and seep through rocks in the backyard,
no one, there, no one at all.
How loneliness travels past fields of love,
seeking answers to questions that are long lost,
a dream, a trance or a reality that is trapped
deep with in me.
Thoughts travel through the dread
of unconquered reality, that sometimes are a reflection
of the dreams, that reverberate through the
unending maze of conscience.
MY FUTURE SELF
My future days are as a grey thickening mist
I refuse to countenance them and will resist
Life’s mill is slowing now with no more grist
I am told to live for today, whilst it may last
Nor breathe deep on the oxygen of the past
No longer who I was, I will be who I will be
I am, after all, just one of many mere mortals
Even fantasise about stepping through portals
Imagining an amused ferryman as he chortles
I cannot believe in any weird alternate future
With any link to permanence held by a suture
And tomorrow is a barred gate, don’t you see
Some seeking a different prospect to entertain
May, in their mind, hope they are not insane
But perhaps it’s just like a worm in their brain
Yet reality can offer only a very cold shoulder
That is pushed further back as one gets older
Past present and future, we will have all three
Come…
Like the ray of hope
An oasis amid the mirage
Bring back your rivulets
Inside my desert!
Spoonful of water
Caring tears!
Come…
Like the rainbow
In to the thickening twilight.
Let the smiling moon
Dance on the lips.
Where two eyes-
Singing in joy,
Dazzling vibes
With passionate dreams
Come…
Like the sea waves
Crushing ashore
Roaring midnights into the veins
Like the woman in love
©SriSuvro
My actions have turned into muscle memory,
my memories have blurred.
I can no longer see,
I no longer distinct.
The faces are fading but the names are etched.
I am going blind but I can feel by touch.
My head explodes
I can feel the blood
I stretch my hand
And it splatters my bones
Thinning and thickening
Dripping and not
The memories are fading
Gone they have not
So it does the thunder roar
The light is thickening beneath the storm
Clouds gathering drops of rain
Step by step winds gently breathing inside me
Yet sweet to me little bird
Lord I hear you Whispering in my ear
Nature's calling He is Elohim
My Father the wind nestles and breathes
Speaking to me nature's calling
I am hearing I am listening
The russells of the limbs of the trees
I embrace the sound that touches me
Longing I receive inside my heart
Hears my eyes see the words
That leads me to Him Jesus
I'm hearing I'm listening hearing
And listening my heart beats
My soul speaks my spirit receives
Hearing listening I hear my Father whispering
Speaking to me in my heart and my soul
In my mind my eyes see as I live and breathe
My Father's hearing and listening
I receive speak Lord speak I hear I receive
Hearing, listening Father I receive quietly still
11/20/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2023
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