In this world of heartless consumption
waste of human life to the whipsaw;
children shot dead while at recess
never did so little mean so much
then when a deer in a field
saw you and you him
nothing mattered
as neither blinked.
Self-righteous take aim,
the pious obey at the sight
non-believers stare but afraid
little orbs of shimmering lights,
admiring all in the wafting shade,
stars peek and rage during the loss;
stunning was how twilight was made,
as teary eyes peer at the lightened cross.
You're bound, there isn't argument, says the landlord,
Who bound me? Why? Entwined with what logistic cord?
Your father borrowed; you must pay; this is the law,
Does law say, for father's debt, his son to whipsaw?
Thus went the argument; both did not relent; fought,
Each over the other, by tricks learned, wounds brought;
Though both died, explicitly, for mundane mammon,
Haven't both got, in them, common cause conception?
Who's got more reason? Who's less? You and me must say,
Giving and taking are parts of life; none can nay;
Ethics, in existence-jungles, has lost its way,
Humans need to decide with wisdom, that's on sway...
(About 18 million people in India are unpaid workers or held in debt bondage, according to the government)
14 February 2022
In this world of heartless consumption
waste of human life to the whipsaw;
never did so little mean so much
when one lonely deer in a field
saw you and you saw him
nothing else mattered...
as neither blinked.
2 Feb 2021
All Yours (Feb 2) Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Winds whip and whistle
past bark of branches bare
collar-cringing cold
winter's whipsaw wares
Frozen faces, fingers
tingling, trembling toes
shivers, shakes, sunken eyes
signal endless woes
A-howling and a-knocking
the nasty night unnerves
the gentle dreams of lovers
nestled in their curves
GIT THEE BEHIND ME SATAN-
All my soul within me pitching
Git thee behind me Satan
All my soul within me ditching
Only this and a shepherdess
Much I not marveled the mystic exorcist
Git thee behind me Satan
My mind always strays to enchanters
Much I not marveled this splendid priestess
I discovered the alchemists
And its eyes have all the witching
Git thee behind me Satan
The whipsaw witchery whipsawing
And so I screamed, 'Is that a theologian?'
Enchantress - enchantress - enchantress!
Suddenly, I heard some magicking
God forbid
The occult smiled
God and I proclaim...Git thee behind me Satan
Demons cries and flees
Gods children and angels singing
Git thee behind me Satan
8/9/20
written word by James Edward Lee Sr. 2020 ©
Youth ran away toward the front,
as death pursued from the rear
Catching me inside the paradoxical
whipsaw of life
I stopped, as the boy continued into the distance;
but the reaper stopped too
Wanting me to run some more,
preferring to attack from behind
As I turned to face my stalker, his eyes went down;
and his presence cast no shadow
He took two steps back, but I reached for his hand
while saying:
“Walk with me, keep up with me;
your job here still not finished
The boy has indeed gone; but
the man is not yet ready to go”
(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2017)
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