Webs of a certain color
The wheels of dancing
Silk under the stark stars
Love unwitting
Hatred spinning
Filling the night with choices
A black rustle of her mind
Challenging the corners
Where pets play and music sifts
Jovial matters in witting the ring
Towering the shake of debate
Anchoring the blood of soon
The relenting attack a fever still
Touring the measure
Her eyes, opiates
Her bread wrecking
The siren in her well
Love, her lease
Hatred her paw
Among the misunderstanding
The child is the father
of the man, a motto
of the world at a time
a love of it before
and even since a time
past and immemorial
one thing to be recalled
a memory of how
such life went through the row
witting and changing as
if enough is the locale
whose glowing light is it
recall that there were echoes
that nothing is strange but
perhaps, a new way or
if it is let well through
sound of sweet melody.
Started wondering how it would feel to be in your arms.
Uncertain, I would be able to tell if your pulse is vibrating.
Nonetheless, I'd like to daydream about our happiness ahead.
Fantasizing about how we'd run to the beach at sunrise.
Lavishly witting the fresh sunrays to relish our fondness.
Only gazing into the sky without saying a single word.
When the wind blows, you stretch out your hands to hold me.
Extending thru the twilight sky, you are the hope in my heart.
Revived moon shone your eyes while you hexed your pledge.
Written: May 19, 2021
Sunflower Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Malabika Ray Choudhury
Much I marveled the romance dear
Instead I uncovered the fondness
Ah, distinctly I was conquering
And its eyes have all the occupying
There stood an avenging spying
The catching closeness concerning
Learning, learning!
The apprentices came concerning
What could there be more purely discerning?
With such a passion for churning
How they were churning, burning - learning
I crave the floating, flowing fascination
With such a passion for turning
I crave the decisive, diverting doing
Long I stood there leaning, dewing
Of the bonk's that is wooing
Of regards that are cooing
My breakthrough, I could not awaken
All my soul within me wooing
It threw its ghost against the heavens
The witting whipping wringing
All my soul within me winging
I discovered the lovers
The revolutionary brought such sorrow
They are perfumed from unseen vipers
The pertinent push preferring
Do you like quivers?
They are perfumed from unseen hardcovers
Our love is just now discovered, unlike any others;
1/8/2021
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. ©2021
Vials of sacred births
By choice-less compulsion
Shattered at earth darkest harbor,
The male and female cargo ejected at nature’s will.
Nine branches abide in one face of a lonesome vine
Some are scorched as if passed through nature’s kiln
Others are wrenched as saplings, their nodes blood-dried
Yet others seek nutrients for witting leaves,
Flourishing branches excised by unseen hands
Breathe the air of foreign climes as
Gnarled hands of malice and envy
Tattoo native branches with ugly incision
Bleeding sap from gaunt members
Now cracked, hacked and sallow.
Am I mad?
Am I upset?
I dont know my emotions,
The day is gone,
The feeling passed by,
Like winds blow in my face,
And the tears fall,
Yet the sorrow is still there,
I feel numb to everything,
I feel hopeless; yet I try to pull away,
I feel so sad, all my friends ran away,
I feel good witting in poetry soup all day and everyday
Isn't weird when we need our love ones, friends, family to be there,
They look at you and walk away,
I look up to them to pull me up from the ground,
Yet I set there with deep pain,
And when you write poems here
You get some advise,
Isn't weird getting advise from random
People that you never met?
And your friends act like they don't care.
Why I always ask God?
Is it because God want's us to go,
To Him as a child?
MAY THIS WORLD THINK AS MAD
MAY THIS PEOPLE PELT STONES ON ME
IAM FOR THE PEACE
AND IAM FOR THE TRUE
THE WORLD AND YOU MAY THREAT TO KILL
IAM FOR THE GLEE AND IAM FOR YOUR LOVE
THE DARK NIGHT MAY COME AND GO
MY EYES ARE WITTING FOR A SINGLE BEAM OF SUN
THE STARS MAY GO AND HIDE IN THE DARK
MY HOPE TRAVELS TOWARDS THE MIDDAY SUN
MY LEVEL MAY BE POOR AND CHEAP TO YOU
MY AIMS AND THOUGHTS ARE SO HIGH AS SKY
GOOD BYE TO SORROWS FORVER
IT IS MY SLOGAN FAILS NEVER
SAKTHIRAVICHANDRAN MA PGDCA INDIAN POET 27.9.05
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