Sun-streaked topaz,
of faint silhouette,
woman gulping phrases,
uncanny mirror’s orbital,
of resonance,
in blind recess,
seeing, hearing icicled image,
psychic blobs melt,
in close locus,
hair-raising halo,
hallucinate my opal eyes,
sultry smokescape,
furnace of,
walnut garland,
from ambling weeper,
whose shaken trauma,
I shudder and pine for,
at red coal pit of,
my abdominal agony,
this lava veiled,
human’s sideswipe,
“you remind me of someone,”
whilst being eclipsed,
by vanilla vapours,
in a hazy billow,
rippling stream heart,
inducing isthmus of,
harrowing bereavement,
blue vault fluke
surreal concoction,
shrouded in mystique,
enigmatic shroud,
shrouded pang,
otherworldly episode
Sun-streaked topaz,
of faint silhouette,
woman gulping phrases,
uncanny mirror’s orbital,
of resonance,
in blind recess,
seeing, hearing icicled image,
psychic blobs melt,
in close locus,
hair-raising halo,
hallucinate my opal eyes,
sultry smokescape,
furnace of,
walnut garland,
from ambling weeper,
whose shaken trauma,
I shudder and pine for,
at red coal pit of,
my abdominal agony,
this lava veiled,
human’s sideswipe,
“you remind me of someone,”
whilst being eclipsed,
by vanilla vapours,
in a hazy billow,
My consolations don’t work anymore
I probably used them too often
I cannot continue like I did before
No new sweet distractions are offered
But is it so necessary to distract,
You may ask, and my answer sounds lame
I’ll paint you how hard it is to interact
With real world’s tough little games
I lack the more meaningful thing to express
I think it’s a drag to delve deeper
A new toy may help to forget all this mess
You won’t get of me a good weeper.
Amid silence filled
with tranquil fervor,
the Weeper stands
blotting the earth
green and yellow keen
against the echoes
of artillery and
dead men
damned to the
muddy wounds of war
The ice storm came in January
And gave her the face of a weeper.
Weighed down, nearly to the ground,
We knew that her roots grew deeper.
However, she was completely covered with
Ice, and her trunk was split at ground level.
We questioned if she would even survive.
But she soon convinced us that she was here
To stay, even when ice stood in her way. She
Knew that God was on the inside, and she was
Ready to produce healthy fruit and thrive.
In short order, by late Feburary, she spoke
With the resounding voice of new spring life.
Her pink blossoms said, "Hello, I'm alive and well. Peaches will be arriving by mid-July".
You’re planned like a hitlist
And I’m clever like a joke
One that lacks grace, but makes you laugh until you choke
I like lighting fires, you like the smell of smoke
Sometimes I’m heavy like a sword, you’re sharp like one
I’m a jewel and you’re the jewel keeper
But you’re bad at your job
You’re the aimer, I’m the weeper
You’re a vulture, I’m a songbird
Some songs are sung but never heard
You wear crowns
And I hold them in my lap to keep them safe
We both like to talk about falling
Because you like flying, and I like to break
I have love and you have the concept of it
You eat power and I lick it off your fingertips
I savor every drip.
You’re careful when you talk, but messy when you eat
You forget that when you drop some, I’ll be waiting at your feet
You miss, I eat
I miss, she sweeps
YOU-
People weeper reaper got no place for you here and I wanted in my house keeper of tortured souls you are not allowed I am not in your employee people of my life
Keeper Father of Children of His Heart Children of a loving living God
Fruits of His spirit apple of His eye
People vessel spirit enclosed housed in a flesh suit
Would not denied me His precious suit
Weeper flesh suit pies on head so cries yet my soul when I die I'm pleasant relentless this I confess reaper I live in spite of you
12/23/23
Written by James Edward Lee Sr © 2023
THAT FEAR
Fear is just a illusion
It creates just a confusion,
Fear brings thought in mind
It can lead us to decline.
Year by year fear is out of gear
By the times its impossible to bear
We fear much deeper
That make us all weeper.
Why to be afraid of fear?
Just try it neat and clear
Promise not to fear hereby
Face every failure and retry.
Hope you weep some more
You’re the one I don’t adore
Let your moth wings soar
Faithful hope in store
Been on meds since forevermore
Cut down to the core
I could’ve sworn - I swore
You’re the one that’s an open
Corridor...ashore...
I could’ve sworn - I swore
You’re not with me anymore
What you waiting for?
You bore me, so torn
You read me like some word ****
So forlorn...unborn...
Where you been once more?
Again, change is your hard chore
Answer left ignored...
Fallen deeper...deep
Oh, lacrimosa weeper
Here, I weep so steep
I reap what I sow
I grow fervently, you know?
Let wicked wind blow
Come hither, thine little Covid face
Puddin’, puddin’, all o'er the place
‘Er thou leapeth, looketh!
‘Er thou jumpeth, deepeth
Verily, verily, weeping weeper,
Look before thou leapeth!
O’ thou dearly beloved Burns
Scotland’s glory
Cheater, cheater, Haggis eater!
Had a wife and couldn’t beater
Stopping by thy Haggis wood
Without a frosty heater.
Jump, jump, jump I say
In thy brine, belly up
Bottom, bottom, bottom shine
Scrub-a-dub-dub
Thy poetry tub,
Darling mine!
Soup a contest,
Thou shall not stray
O' thee and thine alphabet poop
Shall never,
Nor so wickedly ever
Go so far astray!
Weary traveler, eerie ace
Stop and rest thy weary face
No disgrace, 34th place
Win it now
Thy blue-ribbon best
And lose the human race!
Now, say goodnight, crap
Turn on thy vacant stare
Turn off thy thinking cap
Twinkle, twinkle little star
Never stray, never far
From thy happy lap!
What is a Poet?
A singer of songs, a caller of warnings;
A crier of tears, a laugher, a weeper.
Lover of life; of nature, of God;
One set apart; scoffed at and shunned.
Sufferer of numberless maladies.
A poet spreads his soul;
Rampant over white paper;
To be wondered at and mocked.
To incite passion, tears, and smiles.
To expound truth and create beauty.
All alone in tall grass
She sits in the field
Covered in frost
Are it's olive green leaves
Turned yellow
Resting at her feet
The fawn are bedded
In her vee's
Nests of infants and hosts are filled
Atop sits a crow
From the shelter of the sun
Green moss grows below
The lone weeper sways
Nomads of the Rising Sun
~~a homeless home invasion~~
We are nomads of this earthly plain, dining with dust and riveting rain
Dancing with demons dictating pain, making stronger our ball and chain
Under siege upon night, undercover and cold, a blvd sign in city’s light
A penal colony in punitive plight, the surreal scenery of a selective sight
Our breaths keep us warm during the semiconscious soporific storm
Weathering away a contorted form, slowly scared by a slaving swarm
Hunger keeps us alive, descending decomposing death, will we survive
Sleepless nights in overdrive extending hands as they reach to thrive
Sadness creeps with the falling snow, tears drop in the moonlight glow
Kept company by a lonely crow, eating crumbs discarded long time ago
Depression dives in deeper, for I am your brother, are you my keeper
Wounded soul sleepless sleeper, don’t want to be a wandering weeper.
Nov.10.2017
Depression and Sadness
Sponsored by: Craig Hawkins
The past has been an embarrassing blooper
Spying on the present like a jealous snooper
Never been much of a promise keeper
Turning soon into a miserable weeper
Bragging always about the good old days
Urging the present to sing its praise.
Future gives hope but keeps on guessing
Compared to present it's quite a blessing!
Dreams endlessly in heavenly places
Showers with love ambiguous graces
Promises nothing that's worth anything
Mesmerizes coyly obscuring everything.
Present tells tales about the past and the future
It can be a keeper, weeper, or a dream maker
Or cruel, hate, hell, despair, grasping for air
Or hope, love, joy, heaven, granting a prayer.
August 9, 2017
By This Hope My Spirit Often Measures
Pain and sorrow I need never borrow,
for Fate too often looks darkly my way.
I live today, knowing worse tomorrow,
may find me enduring a dreaded day.
Sun may rise but my lot crashes deeper,
as calamity grabs at my hurt soul.
If worse, I just may become a weeper,
and blackness reap its darkest, scary toll.
Pain and sorrow, I need no such bad friends.
This life may yet bring me far more treasures,
with sweet fruitful years before it dare ends.
By this hope, my spirit often measures!
Sun may rise, granting me sunshine so sweet,
my heart sings out in joy, not in defeat!
Robert J. Lindley, 3-15 2016
Syllables Per Line:
10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Lines: 17 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:
Total # Words: 108
Note: Back half of our home flooded Friday, from ten inches of rain in less that a day.
Four days of ripping out , cleaning and now drying.
No use in crying.
So I write a sonnet to mark this day and a better future that my life may find.
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