Five Poems by Edward Lee

 

More Than One, Less Than Many 

After too many years

losing myself

in others,

I realised

I was the problem

in my world, or

one of them

at least,

 

though the solution

still remains obscure,

or if not obscure,

beyond my lonely reach. 

Mouth 

Long before I pictured

kissing you, I imagined

what it would be like

to go down on you,

taste your wet sex

on my tongue

as I drank as deeply

as human bodies can allow

before drowning.

 

Time gave your mouth

to me first, the rest of your body

following eventually,

the lips between your legs

coming last,

first to my fingers,

then to my mouth;

 

we never went any further

than that, but there was no further

I wanted to go,

your taste shining

on my mouth

the heaven

I knew it would be,

 

the distant memory

of it now

still enough

to tighten my skin

and water my mouth. 

 

A Life Of Few 

The public-money-built

house of hand-jobs

and blow jobs

has the highest rent

of any building

in the city.

 

The queues for rooms

are longer

than the country

is wide, death the only thing

that makes them available.

 

I have stood

in a queue for a time,

as have you. Despite

our riotous words

and shaking anger

we want to be able

to look at the world

through the windows

coloured with pleasures

and privileges.

 

The queues continue to grow

as the rents continue to rise,

a better life somehow possible

even as life becomes unliveable. 

 

Waxworks 

Do you remember that tunnel

in the old waxworks

we crawled though,

stopping halfway through

to kiss, and touch,

our hearts hammering

with desire

and the possibility

of being discovered,

before continuing on,

faces red and bodies eager,

to look at the rest of the wax statues

that looked nothing like

whoever they were meant

to look like, strangers to us

and to themselves?

 

I remember, of course,

though there is little

I do not remember

of our time together,

 

our one year, six months

and thirteen days still existing

inside my heart

and nowhere else,

the memory of us

a stranger to you now. 

 

I See You 

I watch as my shadow

pulls away from me

and the sky becomes

my world, the clouds the ground

my feet can barely touch.

 

Eventually I reclaim

my equilibrium

and risk another look

at you, the spin beginning

again, the dizzying

like a flutter in my chest. 

 

Edward Lee's poetry, short stories, non-fiction and photography have been published in magazines in Ireland, England and America, including The Stinging Fly, Skylight 47, Acumen, The Blue Nib and Poetry Wales.  His play ‘Wall’ was part of Druid Theatre’s Druid Debuts 2020. His debut poetry collection "Playing Poohsticks On Ha'Penny Bridge" was published in 2010. He is currently working towards a second collection.

He also makes musical noise under the names Ayahuasca Collective, Orson Carroll, Lego Figures Fighting, and Pale Blond Boy.

His blog/website can be found at https://edwardmlee.wordpress.com