CELESTIALLY GRACED LOVE
The day has its sun,
And the night, its moon;
I’m blessed to have you,
Each day and its night:-
For your love is as
The cosmic beauty,
Reflecting the shiny glow
Of God’s divine light:-
As you are the ever glowing
Sun and moon of my heart,
May I likewise be of your heart:-
And may God forever grace us
In this onederful onement of
The oneness of our love:-
the rich aroma of chai
enjoying a quiet rainy sunday autumn morning
~ serenity captured in a mug
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025, Honorable Mention 2025
In a bottle's transparent depths,
ants struggled, waves of chaos
each fighting for life,
yet forming a living pyramid,
a reverberation of unity's might.
Some submerged, others held fast,
a coordinated dance of aid
no panic, no selfish haste,
each ant surrendered to the greater fate.
A spoon's gentle rescue came,
ants emerged, one by one,
until one faltered, slipped back
into the water's grasp.
The last ant turned, dove deep,
clinging tight to the drowning form,
a bond of brotherhood,
a sacrifice that shook my core.
Shame on humans, lost in pride,
building walls, not bridges wide,
ants teach us unity's strength,
a lesson in selfless length.
True power lies in collective might,
let ants' wisdom guide our plight,
unity's lesson, forever told
in their small, mighty hearts of gold.
Cherished moments spent
With your bestest friend a sharing,
Quietly sitting side-by-side,
Thoughtfully, at simply nothing, staring,
Just shooting-the-breeze together
And for each other caring.
See my love in the waves of the seas.
Hear my love in rustling leaves in the breeze.
Feel my love in my soft caressing touch.
Share with me a gentle light kiss, not too much.
Like the love shown by a cooing dove,
Through these fleeting moments, sense my love.
To be black
Is to live life freely
Despite being trapped in a cage without a key
Ignoring the hate from society
As their bodies radiate envy
Trying to destroy our joy through spreading negativity
And taking our lives violently
To be black Is to smile in the face of adversity
To be black
Is to find beauty in the aftermath of war
And find a singular flower thriving in the trenches
To be able to see life even when faced with death
Because being black automatically means that we all face loss even when it's not ours
But it's a collective loss that comes with the black experience
To be black
Is to have the ability to come together as a community when something bad happens
Whilst others are divided by the pain they experience
To be black Is to lead with your mind whilst being supported by the heart
It's the ability to have the strength to face pain
Whilst simultaneously fueling that strength with the pain they've had to endure
To be black Is to have the whole world against you
And not only survive
But thrive
The journey is beautiful as we stay together.
It is just the beginning, more wonderful stories to write together.
Our journey continues....
every beating cell in our human body is God's internal eye
April 6th 2025
Peter in the summer morning sun
his cool smile shaded by shadows run
his voice as soothing as coffee’s scent
tell me he wasn’t heaven sent
Peter of Malibu moss and Spanish rose
his lips like light-coral, in kissable repose
his legs slouched akimbo, like a tiger’s limbs
how I long to re-entangle myself in them.
Peter’s quick caress, on windy Tropez beaches
aren’t men the most delightful, of nature's invasive species?
I miss the jeweler’s precision, of his warm and playful hands
and how the sun slowly gifted him, with a model’s golden tan.
Peter sipping coffee under a brittle, New Haven sun,
his rough laugh following something silly I’d done.
There’s no cryptic, localized pathology, happening at the beach,
when the two of us are together, our worlds just seem complete.
.
.
Songs for this:
What the World Needs Now by Tori Holub & James Wilkas
be mine by strongboi
Hooves of horses thundered across the fields
Onward they came urged by murderous men
Huddled behind stout stone walls
Women and children in the halls
Tears were shed as in fear we waited
Not knowing what would happen
as evil came to our door
Where are you we cried in despair losing all hope
Would we eventually swing high on a rope.
Faith misplaced on invisible beings
We were few against a mighty force
Heat from their breath felt on our skin
Our men were doughty fighters all
Soon though they would eventually fall
Over run by superior numbers
Trampled in the dust by sharp hooves,
Cheering from throats of viscious men.
Those that survived broken and bloodied
Hung by their necks until they passed
Mutilated and despoiled now gone to their peace
Jeering victors tied us and carried away
To imprisonment in hanging gibbets
Facing all weathers and words of hate
This in the end was to be our fate.
Andrew P McIntyre. 07/01/2025 (c).
In a world of festivities, we prioritize the frivolous,
Elevating Valentine's Day, a celebration quite dubious.
February 14th, a day assigned to love's display,
Yet, I refute this notion, for love should be everyday.
In my culture, this celebration reeks of absurdity,
Promoting premature sexuality, a moral calamity.
Should we allocate a day for love's celebration?
Does this imply we've been fostering hatred in iteration?
Even young learners, grades 6 and above, are caught,
In the web of crushes, a trend that's quite distraught.
In Africa, hotel rooms are booked, a Valentine's spree,
Teenagers dominate, leaving one to ponder the decree.
Are we more Catholic than the Pope, in our fervor and zeal?
Valentine's Day, a celebration that love's true meaning does conceal.
So, if you choose to celebrate, do so with reverence and might,
Upholding cultural heritage, and the sanctity of love's light.
Let organizations, schools, and families unite,
Educating teenagers on the dangers of sexual abuse, a love that's not right.
love is a biscuit –
spread with jam or dunked in tea
according to mood//
love is a hairnet
catches stray strands to hold them
gently, and softly//
love is a mirror
reflected affinity
in each other’s eyes//
love is a window;
look inside; you see your soul –
look out, see the world//
love is an apple
make apple pies or cider –
it’s your decision//
love is an orange;
squeeze out the last single drop
then make candied peel//
love’s a banana –
yellow outside, white inside
feisty yet tender//
love’s a bicycle
two wheels moving in tandem
like kindred spirits//
love’s a tangerine –
easy-peel, many segments
fragrant smell lingers//
A heart of kindness,
Loving others more than self,
A philia JOY!
Bound by threads of love so fine,
Girls gather close, and their spirits shine.
A sisterhood of dreams, they weave,
A tapestry of hope, they believe.
With laughter shared, and tears they shed,
They stand together, strong ahead.
Supporting dreams, with a gentle hand,
A sisterhood, in this new land.
Their voices blend, a chorus strong,
As they uplift, where they belong.
A sisterhood, a guiding light,
Embracing dreams, with all their might.
A blessing of joy we souls so share
His love beats in us abundantly we cheer
Blessed and peaceful Sabbath time for renewal hope spiritual growth
And love may this Sabbath bring you and yours
a sense of more hope peace joy togetherness and love
6/14/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2024©
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