Stumbling through the language of the city,
I walked today
through the middle of a battlefield.
Blood.
Death.
Destruction.
And yet, tomorrow
will bring another new beginning.
A brooding, reverberating,
suffocating silence.
A shattered, broken world.
I plunge my hands into the earth
and paint a picture of revolution.
After a long life in exile,
I return to the village
and find how much
the homes and settlements have changed.
The traces of my childhood
are no longer there.
My eyes fill with tears.
Scattered, rough-edged pebbles,
broken branches of trees,
fragments of shells.
And yet, carrying all their mysteries
and adventures,
they return to me,
again and again.
wipe themselves
the tears in my eyes away.
For so long,
I have told the next generation
so many lies.
Now I have folded myself inward,
away from my own self.
Gender dysphoria,
distress, puberty blockers,
the search for gender identity,
hormone therapy.
Gender transition
continues to unfold
by individual choice.
Boys become girls,
girls become boys.
And even that
gives some people
a headache.
I woke up in paradise,
beneath a sky painted pink.
Then suddenly, I was on a mountain,
watching the clouds drift below.
I blinked—
and found myself by the sea,
standing beneath a crimson moon.
Everything felt real
until I woke up again—
Oh! It's just another dream.
i dwell within
underlying overgrowth
hiding from the world
Judgment
and criticism
from people
who fear
the unknown
and want to
control others
do not carry
much weight
when it is
known that
most of these
same people
have already
thrown their
own personal
ethics out
the window and
have also
contributed
to the karmic
messes being
cleaned up
to this day--
which is why
we must carry on
and go forth
knowing that
someday our gifts
will help
the community
see more clearly.
she is an oak tree
roots drink storms in deep silence
still she shades the dawn
Lock me behind bars,
Hide my eyes under the cloudy sky.
Sweet to burn my heart,
Kiss my nape and burn my soul.
Lovely crime, to love a boy.
He despises the fate I write,
The will I wish to sign.
O dear Lord, I beg as I close the closet,
How gay, and never overjoyed,
Over loving a man who hates my wine.
I plead to close the gates of my closet,
So, I never let him out of my mind.
Diamonds locked inside the safe.
Within the sunrise,
You are already stroking my heart,
And I touch the breast of the sun.
Ah, how breathtakingly beautiful.
Yesterday, together with the sun and the moon,
We held and touched each other in turn.
As we shared our steak,
I pressed sweetness upon your lips with one hand,
And with the other, you poured sweet warmth into my soul.
Toward our target,
Along with the rolling waves,
We smile at one another
And laugh together.
The sound of waves echoing from afar
Now swells and breaks through the joining of our hands.
My heart,
Your heart.
Whether asleep or awake,
Together, we crash like the eternal waves.
To me she is grace, a radiant light,
Turning grayest mornings into luminous bright.
Her laughter is music, a sweet, ringing chime,
That lingers and dances a lovely warm rhyme.
With a spirit so cheerful, she scatters away
The shadows and clouds of a difficult day.
Her empathy runs deep, as a crystal stream,
A comforting anchor, a beautiful dream.
She knows every word that is healing and true,
And says what is needed for comfort to you.
No awkward missteps or regret in her phrase,
Just wisdom and warmth to embolden your days.
Her heart is so pure, benevolently gleams,
The truest of treasures, the best of my dreams.
She’d go to great lengths to whisk away tears,
And quiet the doubts and anxieties and fears.
For nothing brings more to her gentle-eyed view,
Than seeing a smile gently blossom in you.
She’d do most anything, wondrous and grand,
To offer a laugh while holding her hand.
So cherish this lady, so lovely and rare,
Who meets every moment with patience and care.
A heart made of gold and a spirit so true,
She lives for the joy that she brings unto you.
What lies within my history?
None other than cats.
Today, where the second generation
conceives new life,
I stand night watch without hesitation.
The cat that once nursed in the past.
The fifth-generation cat I raised—
The moment it first saw this new life,
It mistook it for prey.
Yet now, it does so no longer.
Instead, it protects.
And I, no longer need to stand night watch.
Within the mirror
wander ghosts through fractured glass
Of this ruby home
Wandering chilled winter rooms
Ash footprints fade from the hearth
There is a pearl within your heart,
Though trials make you feel torn apart.
You think the journey’s reached its end,
But He will guide you to ascend.
So, press into His presence dear,
For fullness of joy is always there.
Healing, miracles, peace abound,
In Him all that we need is found.
His presence shifts both systems and ways,
Transforming processes through His rays.
Consider the ant, keep pressing on,
Till the pearl shines bright as diamond strong.
Institutionalized,
the substance of the vessel;
Is more than flesh bone and matter
For it's a reflected all within the matter
Is the spirit soul within the vessel
7/12/26
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr
Life is no accident-it is a fragile monument adrift upon the relentless river of time.
Drawn toward the quicksand of ignorance, the shadows of greed, and the venomous whirlpool of hatred, it stands on the edge of oblivion.
Yet even in the deepest darkness, one spark of conscience endures; one quiet flame refuses to be extinguished.
When compassion awakens, violence begins to lose its voice. When truth rises, fear surrenders to light.
Beyond the brief horizon of mortality, neither wealth nor power survives-only the love we have shared, the peace we have nurtured, and the humanity we have chosen echo into eternity.
To go within
is to delve
with the within of things
that matter hides inside
and spends a lifetime
trying to gather enough
to be become conscious
and know that it knows
and able to be visible.
I have learned that silence can sometimes feel like a room with no doors and yet some how still keep searching for meaning inside its shape Yearning for eternal rest not as an ending, but as forgetting the weight of being seen.
As I slip into the void of endless black, I do not fall so much as dissolve into thoughts I never said out loud.
There are voices I still carry deep inside me Your acidic tongue drips venom, and I learned how words can bruise without even touching skin.
Still, I stayed longer than I should have, mistaking damage for depth, mistaking that longing for love.Love that seeps from curling words into a floundering bloodstream and I feel it even now how something tender can travel through pain and I still insist on surviving.
I do not know what am becoming, only that I am no longer who I was when I began.
And maybe that is the quiet truth of it all to not escape, not arriving but continuing with everything still echoing inside me Am drowning quietly
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