My fiancés' stone, ten years- she lost her life
Wish that she can hear me, yet well I know
And yet, in time, she would have been my wife
I grant I couldn't bear to watch her go
Do I think I shall e'er forget her scent
The vastness of my love, has yet, fused thine
And still, the ring I bought her, was ne'er meant
For this, a life of sadness, belongs- to mine
Served thy soul, unwelcoming-sordid boon
Rose odors- from her perfume bottle, still
Keeping my memories of her in tune
Glimpses of her smiles flash, ere- she fell ill
Kept inside my armoires' safe, ten long years
Her perfume bottle, overflows- with tears
scalpel!
gently saw at the sides of the face
let it fall apart at the seams
now, put it up against yours
does it fit? is it a perfect match?
it feels cold, unwelcoming
the eyebrows are far too thick
the nose is far too big
i hate it
it is not a perfect fit.
scalpel!
gently saw at the sides of the face
let it fall apart at the seams
now, put it up against yours
does it fit? is it a perfect match?
it burns with uncertainty
the eyebrows are far too thin
the nose is far too small
i hate it
it is not a perfect fit.
how dare you be indecisive!
you bare no features!
only the blank canvas of a boundless oblivion
we gave you a wick!
we gave you paint!
i hate them
they are not a perfect fit.
Ominous leaden clouds sink low in the sky overhead.
Tiny sparrows cease to fly and seek shelter instead.
Shadows fade, the sun slinks away and disappears.
The gloomy day only increases all uncertainty and fears.
Everything seems to have turned the colour of ash.
Morose feelings overcome me, as rain falls with a splash.
As I walk along it stains the pure white concrete slab.
As the day darkens, my colourful clothes look drab.
The ambience that surrounds me is most depressing.
I don a sullen expression. I can’t stop myself stressing.
As the rain subsides, a misty fog draws in like a curtain.
I can’t see the colours of day. I must get home for certain.
Dispirited and glum, I can hardly tell black from white.
The unwelcoming day to my dismay has turned to night.
This empty sadness I feel renders me deeply down cast.
I know I will be OK when I arrive safely home at last.
bitter
acerbic, unpleasant
sneering, alarming, unwelcoming
acidulent, caustic, saccharine, confection
tasting, appreciating, fancying
pleasing, tasty
sweet
I wish I could untie my tongue --
find courage, strength to shine
light upon those least illumined
recesses still hidden from public
view, shielded and scabbed over
like festering raw wounds...must I
accept that there will never be a time
when, freely, I can express my "me"--
that one among those other "me"s
I've not displayed? Depending upon
circumstances-- places and the hour --
perhaps I may set out at least a tiny
kernel of myself -- but I will never
ever tell, and can never be expected
to expose to this world's cold
unwelcoming climate my failing,
fragile, damaged -- pitiful -- but
still barely beating bloody heart.
.
The brightest yellow ball is dilute on the vast blue horizon.
The heavenly peace that the restless breezes create is indescribable.
It might be the last day for overthinking minds, unsettled feelings, and unwelcoming miseries.
This huge wave will eventually erase them forever.
What...? Why does this chameleon mind get shocking, frightful,
suddenly thinks about the good things, unlike any other day.
It is always professional at making things difficult.
But what can I do?
RIP............... to the people on that cliff.
Amidst the fiery pits, where heaven's memories of betrayal reside,
False divinities reign over each flame of inferno wide.
Mankind roams in robes of despair, with blades of might on their bones,
Each agonizing wound carving their innocent sins, as if in tones.
Infernal flames devour the flesh of the lands,
Leaving nothing but ashes of the damned.
Divine winds blow, directionless and heedless,
The ashes take form, of the faces of thousand children helpless.
The light of heaven's windows shines upon the pathway of hell,
Unwelcoming of remaining faces of what was once man's dwell.
Such holy light leads to an unholy land,
Where each step taken, is a step lost in the infernal strand.
I DIDN'T KNOW YOU THEN
I didn't know you then but
Because you strutted alone
Unafraid, attired in outrageously loud colours,
Performing your provocative
Dance of sacred magic
Through sombre, unwelcoming streets,
You are my personal, angelic hero,
Though you didn't know me then.
I am the one who willingly
Follows in your confident footsteps
Along the golden avenue of hope,
Even though it took me many years
Of unwarranted suffering in my attempt
To squeeze into a role, unfit for me.
I know you now, just as you
Know me now, belonging each to each
Within a close-knit community of saints,
Who have had their Calvaries
And risen again to reach the open skies.
They pierce the unwelcoming night,
perserving eyes that receive nothing
but an unwholesome darkness,
hot accelerated breath scorches the
freezing air, as it penetrates
in entirety her raffish body while a
shivering anatomy provokes an age
of innocence, yet a stark awareness
of life’s tribulations, as she tucks in
her scarf, fastens her top button
before impetuously walking off into
the shadows to confront her next trick.
© Harry J Horsman 2022
Pulling myself from the brush
thorn ripping tictures in skin and cloth
a mumble from the darkening clouds
whisper traces of slipping rain
before me stood a battered domain
its windowed eyes
unwelcoming and barren
turning the path behind me swallowed
by decaying leaf fingertips
once again surveying the hovel before me
my eyes darting between shade and light
hoping for a trace of life
Passerbies wonder what's wrong
What are you looking at?
While I'm fixated on the shadow at my feet
I'm just walking the edges of my thoughts
That cut in silence and make me bleed
No one hears the loud heartbeat
That's giving an ache to my head
Everything is happening beneath skin
Afraid to touch anything with my fingertips
Terrified of letting anyone near these wounds
The pain is an imaginary friend
Hidden, tucked away under a pillow
Spoken to only when alone
Oh, what an unwelcoming home
I scrub and scrub,
trying to erase stains gravelled upon my face.
Age has defined its mark,
solidified a presence in folds and furrows
raked over a once-smooth fabric now heralding me as old.
These seams line my skin,
years claimed my youth
from time I hadn't known had passed
and disappeared too fast
like thieves in the night
creeping without warning.
I smell that newness born with babes,
Oh, how it escapes me,
leaving soiled flesh in its wake.
I'm alive,
still breathing,
but it's sighs of old.
Vibrancy and youth permeate my spirit
until the mirror silently highlights worn flesh,
illuminating my face and
haunting me like a ghost
forever lurking around me.
When I peer closer I see more yet less of me,
fragments of remaining years shadow daylight gone,
like dirt disappearing from a child's face in the rain,
innocence turned to the sky,
tongue gathering pearls.
Age is dark. Quiet. Unobtrusive. Unwelcoming.
These common threads live to capture us all.
Cold
degrees, temperatures
crispy, glacially, wintry
Unwelcoming temps and emotions
Roasting, scorching, searing
Balmy, sunny
Hot
6/3/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2021
I want to whisper to you...
at this very moment,
Darling ...no mighty ocean in the world,
no scary desert, no unwelcoming forest
can keep us apart,
Because I have found you at last.
The rustling fluttering leaves right in front of me,
the demure white jasmine in the corner,
the swaying fragrant petals in exuberance of their happiness,
can’t hold their joy, but want to share,
same as me - because I know, you and I have nothing to fear ....
I have found you at last.
FIRST PLACE
All Yours (May 27) Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand
It's not my fault
I'm just trying to breathe
Devil's in the air
corvid doesn't care
is it China's fault
A Political joust
I must have
And does it comes to the elderly first
It is it biological
Is it's logical
We know of economical
stay away from me
at least six feet please
for the breath that was given me
God has given me
you have no right to restrict me
How can I love you
If I can't touch you
6 feet away
You must stay
Cover your face your nose your mouth
No more hugs, handshakes, or celebrated Michelle Obama fist-bumps
Corvid you restrict my breath
Embrace my Essence
stay away from me 6 ft please
I must contest this is my breath
This is all I have left
Right foot steps
My God I pray today
Save us all from my very essence is my breath
So be it
I'm unwelcoming...
at 6 foot distancing
This Torrid
NEW WORLD CORVID
5/17/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2020
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