Another "I Do," Another Pledge**
I found myself confronting mortality in the guise of the viper on the day my heart was irrevocably broken. Deep within, I understand that he liberated you, much like the Meadowlark’s song.
Once again, I utter "I do" and make another pledge. The deceitful viper adorned himself in the same black suit. He donned the colors associated with malevolence during this second endeavor, for it is indicated that "strait is the gate and narrow is the way."
His countenance radiates as he feigns a smile, resembling a contrived pose for the camera. I observed the specter of death in his expression, reminiscent of Pinocchio’s nose.
The well-wishers murmured, "No discernment; what a disgrace, what a waste! A lamentable image of a man." The pastor solemnly proclaimed, "Amen."
I perceived death upon the visage of the haunted individual. The fissures in the antiquated brick wall emitted a haunting melody: "You stand before the altar as yet another fool."
Is this a wedding or a funeral—an evening fraught with foreboding? The middle-aged groom reflects a decline in love and kindness. Love, indeed, is blind.
Mother lowers her sullen face
against a volatile wind,
tasting the insolence
of a heavy laden gust
As she heaves quietly
from musings of unaswered dreams
grating her senses -- hope clinging--
through pits of lonely thoughts
delicately cleansing snarled faith
and disheveled pauses...
where hours impairs near death
as uncertain answers grow pale
...Waking her slow breaths flowing
from tears... Dad in a stupor :
I dreamed within her own dream
a fervent wish of life restored
that she hears my silent words
her boney figure collapsing --
through the bleakest of bleak nights
numbed from pain ...from agony,
That under panels of glass,
...we clutch onto that wish for life
My dream blending with her plea...
and realize she has learned
to pray with me in the rain.
.
at hern
prescription
hern ingest
nibble
raven
gulp
i think'd i
said thuh mouth's
full
.
Ooooooo
wait'up
ooooouch
No
Oooouch
I hope you have
band aidz
there's gotta be
blood
doez yuh sharpen
them nails girlie
(((youch)))
.
if'n i stop mine think's
drip
Exspecially 'bout
herz
Exspecially in theirn
Purest prurient presence
Attract'n mine 'lone
i may touch one uv
thoze flowerz
The Black Sea of Hostility**
I express no willingness to engage in the metaphorical black sea of hostility. It is a misconception to believe that individuals are born with fractured souls; rather, such conditions develop throughout one’s life.
One enters this world devoid of sin, possessing innate virtues and qualities. However, I am not inclined to accept an invitation to your table, where the tablecloth is whiter than the pristine blanket of snow on Monsanto Lake. I will not participate in such gatherings.
Your opulent Gorham silverware glimmers, reminiscent of clusters of grapes hanging from a mountain. Nevertheless, I remain disinterested in both swimming in this sea or dining at a table rooted in animosity.
The children raised in this environment are instructed to disdain the clergy. Meanwhile, violence stains the streets of northern communities as politicians indulge in lavish dinners costing $2,000 per plate. One must question who is safeguarding the gates of moral decay.
The realm of politics is indeed tumultuous.
This is another night, deceiving myself
to be awake...blinded by the sight of
my own surreal wisp of a mellow dream
raking and turning into long reveries,
where something once pleasant is now so trite-
that Illusions of fresh morn quickly blacken
... snuffing whispers of a shadowy wind
slowly retracing its glide into my cries.
Every night, at the sight of darkened moonlight
purple lines of evening air heralds pain--
wind arriving from behind, hushed and still,
that I hide my face from such musky flavor,
carrying scents of our autumnal romps
and remind me of wind songs, play, soft cuddles
pressed in heavenly light, to whisper love
about you, young son high up now with blue stars:
And In his court are a thousand jewels
twinkling from afar with this soft wind cuddling
me in your arms to say, ' all is right, Mama.'
The world is changing for the better
Waiting for a great time to strike rich
We don't wait for the hostile to crashed
We get out before then
A hostile environment is pity harsh
The transistion of human life is vanishing
Our world became hostile
People don't act the same
What was the changes?
A poor life style
People are struggling
Do not think the same
Less smile more pouting
Not appropriate for this life or another
We reach out but no one hears
Everyone deaf and blind
Amen
UTERO HOLDER OF LIFE
Reddish brown hue
Holder of life
So easy to view
Beautiful
Mother’s hold held, life spoil
She stands tall, fertile
Legs sequoia
Woman mother of man
Releasing’s life’s blood
Eggs embryos
Down her limbs
Nurturer, mother of world
Red river life flows through
The womb monthly flows
Utero holder of life
9/3/25
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2025©
"from LIFE DISCERN Anthology "
THOSE THESE SHOES I WEAR I’M BAREFOOTED-
you wear the shoes that fit you
Bottomed out barefooted
Naked toes and sole
Standing on Holy Grounds
~
You dance like David dance
A spectrum of Holy worship
He sees your heart beyond your flesh
Standing on Holy Grounds
~
You raise the hands that were given you
You stand on the grounds the lands in shoes
Naked you come into this world, naked you return
9/3/25
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2025©
"from LIFE DISCERN Anthology "
I walk in a world painted with charm,
where laughter drifts like sunlight,
where hands are gentle and hearts are soft.
Yet I stumble on the broken echoes,
the half smiles and misfired warmth
the ones the world seems to have set aside.
I have watched the golden pass me by,
their steps in sync with the universe,
while I gather the fragments left behind,
learning that solitude is not punishment
but a quiet, fierce companion.
Alone, I sharpen my edges,
I claim my own rhythm,
I dance in rooms built from my own light.
I do not wait for the lost or the lovely,
for I am enough
without the handsome, without the kind.
In this crowd of misfits,
I have found a throne of one,
and it suits me
better than any hand could.
Suffering is not the gate barred—
it is the gate itself.
Confusion, despair—
not obstacles, but the steps of the stair.
Raja Yoga whispers the same truth:
the stages of progress are veiled in shadow
before they flower into light.
Depression is no malady—
it is catabasis, the sacred descent.
The husk must split.
The self must fall.
Only then does the new soul rise.
The weight of the world—
that is the door.
Darkness—
that is the friend.
It calls us: Surrender.
Surrender to the great unknowing,
to the void’s wide silence,
and there—
be remade.
Yet the well is bottomless.
Some wander long in its depths.
Some tire, or falter.
In that night, a hand extended
is grace itself.
I was given such a hand.
And so, even in descent,
radiance found me.
.
yes i did
mine eyne follow'd that drip
down hern
naykid length
yess
naykid
in thuh buff
thuh sun loving her canvas
that drip's glister
amplified
az down it
slid slowly
ride’n her
pink
drip
.
fromg her speak's
lips
just az close
her decollete
twixt hern
excited
'long her torso's length
just 'low her
navel
bump'd
mine
speak's school'd
'tween
hern hip's
limbz
tap
.
never stop'd like'n
sundry
plural
sweets
Specific Types of Dramatic Verse Poems
Read wonderful dramatic verse poetry on the following sub-topics:
animals, christmas, death, friendship, food, funny, kids, life, love, modern, music, nature, rhyme, school, sports
and more.
Definition | What is Dramatic Verse in Poetry?