Vison Poems | Examples

Unlikely Us

Shrilling seagulls spreading broad wings
are bound for another flight into infinity; 
unlikely us who perceive fear and adversity,
they know how to conquer boundaries: 
and as soon as daybreak begins, they don't wait
but venture further than hazy horizons
with a straight line that guides navigators
on their trail until they vanish from limited sight.


Was Columbus or Vespucci more fearless than bold seagulls?
Didn't they defy storms and pushed forward to match their grit?
Their zest for discovery never threw them into irrational wit;
they goal was to project a vison and turn it into daydreams.
Had there been voluptuous women to weaken their quest,
there would have been none to behold other than deep regret;
and unlikely us who fall for shallow desires and accomplish little:
we ignore seagulls and navigators that are brave and yet fragile.

They Appear from Nowhere

“What is Past is Prologue.”
The Tempest.


It's the young ghosts that
haunt us most.

A vison of my 6-year-old self,
looking up from a basement window
at the gray pavement above my head.

It scared me then and still does.

One dead-eyed day in a wintery city
I saw a man without a coat
crouched and shivering,
the coat that he did not wear that day
I wore at that time.
The more I looked, the more I understood.

Such younger ghosts are spectral preludes,
phantoms of our psyche,
sealed into a setting, just large enough
for them to relive forever
a one-act play
of our soul-etched moments.

GOD LISTENS GRACES US HIS MOUTH SPEAKS BRINGS FORTH LIFE-

I see your smile
It embraces me
Tender earlobes listening
~
Holy-Wholly sweet lips speaking
Life
God’s mouth speaks life
~
His breaths in us
God listens graces us eyes vison
His Holy renditions

10/17/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr©2024

Shuttering

A lot of it happened when not looking,
they are captured as photo-images
still arriving
undeveloped.

Beneath the skin of a retro-vison
dark scenes of rain
slicing through confused clouds
forever caught as an opaque film
over half-closed eyes.

There are visible gestalts –
shadow dances of passing daydreams.
A mélange of cursory detachments
once mistaken for a life.

More small bundles of lost moments
left discarded
on the side of narrowing roads,
nevertheless, the time-ravaged
push on
to stake their claim on this day.

This morning or the next,
you vow to leave your camera at home
even knowing

that there are still empty spaces
in your ever-growing album.

A Mosaic

I have written for some time now and pause,
the quill in my hand rests from wear and tear;
The realization strikes me in my mind,
my mentor used to hold his quill the same;
In morning walks I wave my hand to greet,
the stranger smiles and I remember how,
my Brother used to wave his hand the same;
The time I contemplate, I bite my lip,
my heart shows me a vison and an ache,
my Love bit them the same, what I recall;
The gust of wind, it ruffles my long curls,
and I push back the hair, like Mother mine;
I stargaze, longing my eyes bear, like him,
oh how my Father gazed at them the same;
and then come now to terms with fact I do,
that truly, me for one - a Mosaic whole,
of all I have even been in with or love.

Inside the Looking Glass

The day rises from shadows
of another day 
and now it’s calling.
A neighbor says spring
and another says fall
but now I’m alone.
I look out one window
and see the face
of a woman I loved—
a post says she’s
in a relationship
with someone else.
I look out another
and see a vison of someone
I visited the last two nights
and can still feel her embrace.
It’s October now
and the year is passing.
It will be gone
before I know.
The sun shines
through my window.
Outside
one leaf is green
and another falls
and I recall
a friend who told me
that in each autumn
lies the promise of spring.
As I awaken from my dreams
I take a deep breath.
The day rises from shadows
of another day
and now it’s calling.

IN LOVE WITH HER WHOLE HER SPIRIT SOUL-

I stood before her, forewarned of she is no one’s property,
A vison, a daughter of the prophet ;
A child of the King, beautiful the soul;
Ever a radiance shines bright, her soul;
Surely I adore, solely I adorn,
Daughter, Son ship, a child, of A Living King; 
Set apart beautiful devotion birth;
Before time ran her purposed formed,
I stand before her, in love with her spirit;
her quiet, her sleep, all I embrace endearing; 



9/19/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2024©

IN HER EYES SHE SEES THE SUN RISE-

 in her vison sees 
natures anointing eyes sees
 visualize features
~
 the sun rises soars
 moon set new day view dawns bliss
vison dark to light



6/14/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2024©

Night Vison

I scream 
This night vision
Too many miles without you
Like dissonance craves its resolution 
I covet you
My Peace
With shattered dreams and frozen tears
I stand here naked
My soul pierced by eyes of fire
Desperately defenseless
Consume me
This heart in desolation
Love gives way to thorns

Stars of Clarity

"Sometimes things only become clear when we are old enough to grasp what the universe is trying to tell us."   ~~The Poet~~


Had it been labelled charity?
Gazing at that star of clarity.

Watching it make its trajectory
Drifting through my memory.

Long lost from my childhood days,
Motherless, a father to praise.

Though I was told of her love,
Left me, now lives in heaven above.

I recall his love as he took care of me,
But he left me there when I was three.

To play with orphans and waifs like me.
Was the last of my father I was ever to see.

Gazing at that shining star of clarity,
There creeps a ray of unfamiliarity.

Now though what seemed prison bars,
The orphanage window frames the stars.

I see many stars of clarity shining fair,
A vison of him handing me that tiny bear.

It was cold, not cuddly as a bear should be.
It wasn’t for play, unsure why he gave it to me.

Now, all these years later I gaze at that tiny bear,
Looking deep into it, I see him standing there,
 
Giving me something he knew would last.
In crystal clear clarity his love was never surpassed.

Daring Greatly

Harder vison
 softer rhyme
Lion tamed
—tomorrow thine

(Dreamsleep: April, 2023)

Empire Down Ii

In my empire of dust…
I sit on a throne built of ruined, rust 
I sit, n think about what has been lost

why do images come and 
linger, ghosts in the aftermath 
of emotions holocaust 

why do thoughts come undone
dark, like shadows marching as one 
to haunt & taunt my vison-scapes

as I watch my images 
aline like cruciform’s upon my edifice, 
That singular rock; Golgotha

my eternal scorn 
my dogma
in my empires of lust
my empire down 

wrapped in thorns of rust. 
I cry empire down 
I dig into the dust.

my empire turning to dust…

Njorun

Best, not to arouse those shades from their fragile sleep that lie in thy hallow ground the realms of 

fragile sleep in lands of lost imagery cast away cracked things, springs, and mechanical deities  

flying on strings of installer membranes the skin of creation the in-between and unseen the known and

unknown the lands of dreams racing leagues of nightmares across a vison-scape of darkness n

fractured dreams, where lost things lie as derelicts in purgatory best not to arouse these shades from 

their fragile sleep in dreams of Plutonian night splinters the eyes of Morpheus the bringer 

of sleep best not to arouse those shades from their fragile sleep that lie in hollow ground 

the realm of fragile sleep in lands of lost imagery n cast away cracked things, springs, and mechanical deities…

Rural Glimmers

In the country we do not have city vison,
we have a phosphorus luster,
we have snails and worms
that turn over a silvered mulch.

The slow burn of a late dusk
kindles sun-setting shadows –

the sheen of beetle clipper-claws.

A chitinous moonlight flickers
upon crystalline windowpanes.
Then there is the glint of gravel in starry waters,
unearthed shimmer paths and a leafy luminosity
in midnight cisterns.

Those stars, they keep arriving
until the darkness shrinks between their light,

and if it is overcast, we set a lamp on a high place,
one that can be seen from hidden and
faraway mountain-tops.

Visons End World-

Crowded by the visions
distorted views sites;
unseen totally committed who will 
intervene caught up in the premise;
Visions End World
~
As humanity glows climate trace
changes mankind disposed displaced
Plains surfaces are drowning
West coast ablaze on fire browning
World's vison end
~
melting arctics oceans rises
Waiting apocalyptic arrivals


10/5/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2020

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