Lord Of The Flies

Lord of the Flies

Oh yea.. I know this dance
Very well
See
Misunderstandings misdirect missions against a misconduct
That doesn't exist
What a two step
And after promising my heart
That I would care no longer
Damn it there that bitch goes
Again
Caught up, then playing catch up
When I really dont know the answers, shit, sometimes not even the questions..
Shit just falls apart
Names get flung to all corners
And titles immediately assigned
Mine?
Lord of the Flies
Cant see the forest for the trees
So now the mole hill is mountainous
Once
Again and
The Lord stands alone
But not in a regal way
Just kind of
Standing alone
In a human way
The words are pressing against my skull now i cant get them out fast enough
Until all explodes into a catastrophic mess
Of words and pain and tears
And confusion
And that mass eats all
Digests the hurt it once
Swallowed
Breaks down the reasons until they dont give a fuck anymore
The reasons dont fight long
They only kick a little bit as they fade to black
Im sure its painless
Tho I feel the numb ache for some time after
Dont even know what i want from love any more
It will devour u whole
And I will only allow i to eat
Never be eaten
Food chain be damned
Where is my throne
Let me sit again
I am the Lord
The Lord of The Flies

...An Idea of Love

She...
Tends to the stripes ripped into my Life
With a Slow Hand...
Envelops my Suffering like
The Soft Glow
from a subdued Moonbeam..
We
Collect Starlight and
share the Sparkles from
Constellations
 in order to Create
Shimmering New Stories in the Heavens..
Generations Upon Generations
Will fall in Love a million times with Our Tale
and
Relive our Essence..
Rebirthing Our Love
over AND over
The Eyes of Angels tear up anew
for this Creation of Ours is Legendary..
Only able to be described
Hieroglyphically
Alongside the Likes of  Cleopatra and Marc Antony,
Isis and Osyrus,
 Hatshepsut and Tuthmosis..
Rah and
All Creation..
I can only hope to Live up to Her Sunshine
I wish
She would Write with Me..
Our Verse a New Baby
With a Heart of Cotton,
The Strength of Steel..
Aware of its Intent
but,
Unwaware of the
ABsolute Feeling of Its Origin

An Evolution of Thoughts
An Idea of Love

Confessions In the Gardens of Peru

~Confessions in the Gardens of Peru~

Chris Lee:

What have we started?

Tammy LC:

I am not sure, but if not knowing feels this good, then I don't care to know.

So what do you think we've started? A fire that is out of control?

Or a fire that works its magic? Warms up our souls and leaves

traces of love at our door? What have we started?

Chris Lee:

It's a fire that warms long cold embers and reminds me of.......

The Gardens of Peru... Secret but so known to us,

but unknown as well because the expected

was wonderful, and the unexpected was solace. Where the accent of she enabled

me to close my eyes, and experience free....

Tammy LC:

The warmest fire my cold has ever witnessed. A fire that burns down despair,

and lights up a flare of sweet sounding melodies.

So tender it numbs our ears,and kidnaps our fears.

Distracts our minds with a sweet taste of wine that keeps us drunk,

high, and make us forget about the painful past and its lies.

Yes my dear, let us meet in the Gardens of Peru and continue this write.

Keep spoiling my senses and massage my inner.

Chris Lee:

Jah knows I need free. These chains have rusted around my aura,

and a film has began to overcoat my 3rd eye, and my heart

denies my soul it's existence, and my interior is so very empty.

Somehow I still smell your scent on my emotions,

and the bonds begin to loosen.

Tammy LC:

Yes, I want to lead you to my free, and nurture your flee.

For those dark and lonely cuffs that has you in shackles

by the pain of a tree. My scent finally caught

up with emotions of your possess.

Chris Lee:

I want to learn your body like an intricate acoustic guitar,

and then, play the Melody back to your soul.

Tammy LC:

I long to play your unique bolt and become that part of your inner rock star.

Chris Lee:

We've allowed room for error, but nearly reached perfection, a wonderful opera

of words and tales and you. And I and ambition, an ambition for what you hold only

stated by the smell of your hair against my chest in the morn.

Tammy LC:

I will gently rock each beat that your beautiful soul releases with each

string that carries the flame of your love beat.

I will award your spirit in my write. With each chapter I feel

your being inside of each vein that forces me to press

out some more love instead. Red becomes my ink now, from love,

life, and harmony. Yes baby, let us continue

the tone that is marked with melodies of my mental seduce of pure ecstasy.

Chris Lee:

Why do you open up to me? Your words and motions and moans

surpass even the brilliant colors and hues of all the crayola boxes

in the world, as if they were all emptied onto this table,

and that couch and yonder bed, and yonder bed.

The window closed tightly. You seduce me by the slitted light

passing thru the blinds. Your very touch like the fire fueled

by the Vulcan to forge me into a weapon of the purest ecstasy,

and caused senses to erupt in me that had long lain dormant.

  Who are you? You wonderfully brown Angel.

Your lips carved from the cliffs of living

mountains  and then softened by the trials of love... to match my kiss...

Your voice whispered into a conch shell, and then tempered for

ages and pressed into the sounds of your laughter.

Tammy LC:

I am the one that your heart demanded. I am the one that your

soul commanded to be. That raw pure truth that your life deserves in me.

Submerged no more. Only sustain, and love gain is accumulating

inside of your no more locked door.

I am sent from within yourself. You dreamed me,

and made me your reality of your wish come true, eternity.

Chris Lee:

Your eyes... borrowed from the design of Isis herself,

and consigned to your body to gaze upon my melting heart.

Are you the secret? The sweet Garden of Peru?

Tammy LC:

Wake up, you're not dreaming anymore. I breathe, I bleed,

and each beat in my beats is the reality of me. I'm your real.

To not be awake would mean that you are missing my passing thru.

For passing the truth would be a crime inflicted by false denies of not

claiming what is rightfully mine. Wait, rightfully yours,

because love behind glass will deny you the view to the windows

of my heaven. Find your truth, and stare at me.

I am your confession in the beautiful Garden of Peru~

© 2013 Chris Lee & Tammy Lisa Carmen (Tammy LC)

D.U..ET. (a poem by Christopher Lee & Kalonia Jennings

i

glanced at the image of her shadow in my mind

and

and had never laid eyes on her

* I touch his face and kiss his lips

as he daydreams

waiting for Him to discover me

as his star

I

caught the faint whisper of a sweet scent

as if she had passed in the night..

quickly

she lingers there and

sweetens the back of my palate

* I leave messages of my love for him

on the winds. With strict instructions

that they stay til he closes his eyes and savors me

that familiarity is

what has me smitten

the sweetest deja vu i have ever witnessed

* So long, I have been with him

I am a memory

So long apart

I am a dream

I am always faithful

i rely on her smile

i

hinge my moods on her lips

i

dream of the cascade of

sweet serenades

that she

reads to me from Books never published

but she scribes deeply into my heart

* pen in hand

I find the words in me

unspoken

I bleed from our separation

and I write those words invisible

for him to find

skin on skin on sin but what can be wrong about a dream?

a dream of

eye to eye... open gazed orgasmic expressions

never look away

* looking deeply behind his eyes

I see more than pleasure of the flesh

but, of the soul, heart and mind

I'm captivated by the faces u make 

even when u

...

i study movements i have never seen

..

she sways with a dance beneath my caress

and i

i relive ecstasy

just being in her presence

* if only I could find you

I would recount the moments

we spend together in our minds

i think

i think she would

cry

* I would cry

and i would

comfort

starting with the smiling curve of her bottom lip

or maybe she..

maybe she would

nuzzle me with her nose

evoking a blush

* I feel so safe in my innocence

with you

or maybe i

maybe i would

urge her to an upper position and

her locs would tickle my nose

* stroking my cheeks across his beard

to create memories

listening to the sound he makes

when he shifts in his sleep

its the little things

*it's the little things

the

singular drop of sweat from her brow onto my lip

* the way he licks his lips and smiles

the tingle of her bangles in the summer night

* the way he holds my hand before he kisses it

the gentle,

gentle giggles elicited from

a joke whispered in private

* the gravity in his voice when he laughs

the feel of her softness...

* the feel of his strength

i want to press her into me

and take her

aura home

* I want to relax into him

and breathe deep

like she is the

master copy

and i

i wear the imprint

* he is the prototype

and I am the blueprint

we are the perfect notes to an unwritten melody

the perfect duet

yet we sing alone 

of

seduction

Blue

eyes of brown sugar backed by
a smile of blue
she sought
continuity of curvature
to speak without the utterance of one sound
but i heard every word
all the makings of
a classic
beauty by
mine own standards

• she defined purpose in her stance

• others reveled in the obvious

• and i

• longed for what was

• deeper

• my

• mind was tickled and giggled at

• reasonings that filled her that

• soared above the minds of the average

• i was awed

• she wasnt impressed

• 
  

• "its just me"

• she said

• as i

• marveled at the caramel simmering

• beneath

• this fleshy kettle of fire

• and traced lines with invisible fingers

  that merely started at her legs

  and ended at infinity

  so it is unneccesary to comment

  that

  the caress is forever

  rooted to both earth and man by locs of Queendom

  and the heart by sincereity

  and the eyes by a smile of blue

  an unshakable essence

  she possessed

  that i wished to bottle

  but who can bottle the spirit that is free

  without

  killing

  what intrigued ur mind from Genesis

  and

  returning her smile to blue

  i pray that if i were to be haunted

  she would be my tormentor

  and

  if i were to be blessed

  she would don the wings

  of my

  guardian angel

  locs of wool caressing the

  side of my cheek as

  eyes meet and

  lips contact

  and meld into

  this sweat inducing dream

  i smell her breathing
  i feel her cry
  i arise
  she
  escorts
  we
  travel
  who arrives
  inconsequential
  i came before i went
  fight the feeling i must the desire to

  crush the memory of this nymph into my soul
  she is forever etched there and
  i have never

  seen

  more
  than the 
  Idea

  of she with the smile of blue

..In regard to my search for the perfect sunset

I think she probably scribed

the most perfect lines across the crown of the sky

that I had ever seen

Shining light into the lowest valleys and

Burning the glades and their shade with a

Quiet brilliance

Even thru her haze she managed to illuminate

other dark days

And with subtleness show us all another way

She Darkened my melanin and showed me ways to be a black man

again

She reminded me of my mother

Warming cool days and making things alright again

or At least to endurable for now

I watched her pursue her dream as she settled in the west every night.

Oft i dreamed of pursuing her but

she ran too swiftly along her track

So far away she would wander

I wondered if she would come back..

Alas for the wings of Nike

I would give a jewel

To follow just once

But in my 3rd eye I knew only a God

could look in her eye

I half-human

So every eve I would pray her vision not see tears

as I sit along the coast of the Pacific and

watch her explode into arrays of amazing color..

reaching out

as if she were rubbing my hand to say

"Maybe one day

Never is always worse than late

Who knows what sayeth the Fates.."

And if not for this human and weak body

I would sit forever on this beach

tearfully

but happily regret

My failure to capture

The perfect sunset

Chris Lee

LifeSignZ

2012

Waltz Of The Colors PT.1 (a dynamic Collaboration of Emotion) designed byChelleBell/WreckAB

HE

warmed me up like the 1st day of spring ,

She surprised I in her Sunshine State,

I

Wish to know flowers

Wish to know hours on end enveloped in

You

And I

Just He and I

his hand over the small of my back

and

my

hands playing in his locs,

My

mind is on one thing,

staying in the moment with this King

I

his diary,

HE

whispered to me all his pain and defeat

no tears

just ink

flowing with each word

gently caressing

My

lobe

I

leaned

into the hold

of her soul,

SHE

wanted me to see

SHE

I

wanted familiarity with

WE

Longed for the dance

WE

Shared In Our Minds

IT

was so inevitable

I

kiss his words...

making this dance sacred

his thoughts

go

from pain and defeat

to

conquer and retreat

...the pace of this dance

moves a little

faster than before

....phrases forming

and

my ears

yearning for me....

i will never tell

express it all to

ME

See

SHE

had body

I gave SHE curves,

the stanzas

erotically

danced

in verse

all care to the wind ..

all whispers silent

.. blanket my private

... intuition with ur

sultry essence

WE

survive

the inkletting

WE

don't bend unless it BE

to the will of this

sexy serenade of the pens...

DANCE

like I never knew how like

I never was able

insects of men she has made

but ME

she made KING??

Grateful to the offering..

pauper in the inkwell,

until her

thoughts sex with mine..

mind?

feelin some kinda way

feel the rhythm of my strokes,

its like being the

yellow, red or green crayon

in the crayon box..

im stuck like glue...

waiting

to be peeled off the palms of school kids

Duly Noted

The Paper never asked me to tell my story
Truth is I wouldn’t know how to write the feeling
But the Pen.. She knew
She guided my hands to dig deep obtuse
Screaming lines againt the evenly lined surface
I no longer pen in organized letters
But in
Gashing wounds
That reveal themselves more readily as mortal
Injuries than prose
Stuck in parables amid paralyzed paragraphs
That at times scrawl the same letter of one word
Deeper and deeper into the page until the ink and the impression and the
Meaning and the tears begin to show through
To the unsoiled side
Passion is a substance
Fear is an element
Anger is a curse
Tears at times the blessing
For the weeping
Like open wounds releasing the bacterial drippings
Of a diseased aura
And exhaustion never takes over the senses until the final
Agonizing line
Bleeds fully from my friend ,the pen, my enemy the heart
And the emotionless vulcan of my mind
And as my knees touch the ground at last in a weary
Relenting pose
And I dare not open my eyes
Just KNOWING that after such a tirade
The world most certainly has ended
And I peer out to see the sun still shining
The SON still shining
The grass still bladed
Living another day


Duly Noted
...

Dimples, Eyes, SOUL.. pt 1

She had those
dimples...
they made me blush...
when she smiled & shyly looked away from the...
lens of my brown eyescope...
deep inkwells of cute, but not
sassy talk..
her eyes looked out in longing...
the mystery that was
SHE,
intrigued my sanity to its breaking point...
i sweated in my sleep...
i wanted to agree with my disagreements...
just for a walk with SHE
because
SHE had those dimples...
see
dimples are a trap in themselves
draw u in because,
if u can cause the dimples then
she's smiling...
u love it when she smiles...
but when her eyes smile...
i collapse under the weight of my own humanity....
i redraw the dimensions of her face with my eyes perfectly closed...
i etch them into my thoughts like a blind man,
her lips grace conscious thought &
unconscious rhythm...
her tongue my mind's pacemaker..
when i was about to arrest...
my God! those dimples....
Smile at me please, eyes....
grasp my hand with your soul....
whisper a single thought in my ear
i'll remember it forever...
i've already stored your style in my medulla....
smile for me dimples....
my eyes need to be happy one more time....

Ode To The HoneySuckle Princess

Delicate white fronds on
thick brush...deep in the woods,
back roads to oblivion..
sweet
scents assault the untrained nose,
sweet
protests, the untrained palate..
so hurt ,when the storms blew by
watching her other sisters get tossed in the sky, she
held on
steadfast,
inviting hummingbirds to
taste her nectar in days of Sun,
needing the bees to
pollinate her mind,
help her make another song,
herself a sweet ode to history,
flashbacks to the past when
she herself dropped out the trees
as a seed,
surviving for her babies to feed...
they say its cold in the "D",
i
butterfly
uncoil my siphon
to read
pen styles of iconic depth,
at such depth i catch my breath...
and
hold it to
soak in the essence
and
enjoy the sweet blessings
of the honey suckle princess...
Bloom now
Bloom forever, but...
Bloom for you

The EMPTY

the empty made me full
how?
non-answers, none answered
too busy to
explain yet
too idle to
understand..
the empty scared me
scares me
embarasses me
harasses peace
yet
so still like
dry leaf whispers
raspy advice to my life's bio..
autobio story bound & leather backed
moth nibbled but empty
me/she story related one-lined like
off color joke
laugh because
the tear ducts
empty
take me
my life
my pain
my love
my angles
my theories
and
secret them away
under
midnight shadowed elms
blood on the parchment now for
the pen is empty