out of the ashes

Friday, February 25, 2011

A new poem:)

Click the cover.

Go To Your Window

Go to your window, precious love.
Can you see me?
Look closely. I am there floating helplessly by.
My lips are moving, calling—but do you notice?
They search for your fingertips again.

How I long to brush my lips against them,
Hold them captive with gentlest kisses.

Oh, call out, This way! I am here!
Take hold of me—I’ve shattered the glass.
For you, lovely one, for you.
My hands are near you, take hold!
Touch them. Kiss them.

How many years, how much despair,
In blind and futile wandering, alone?

I feel as though I am in a cloud;
Blind, deaf, unable to move
Except at its whim.
I have called for you, but no sound
Escapes my locked and feverish throat.

How I crave the healing of your voice,
Open my ears with the breath of your words.

I’ve called. I call. I entreat you in darkness—
Cold, alone, disconnected, moving upward, now.
No…no, downward. Oh, I cannot tell.
I am blind, I am mute. Near to dying.
Desperately in search of you.

Lift my lifeless ghost from abandoned hope,
Become my flesh and golden path.

I know that even with eyes stolen by your beauty,
Words hidden in the mist of separation,
Your sighing trapped in silence
By some mysterious cruelty I cannot comprehend,
I will find you. I will happen upon your window.

Do you see love’s brilliant sunrise?
Azure eyes that color my pale firmament?

Go to your window, precious lover.
Find me. Reach out!
I am deathly naked, floating somewhere near you.
Searching for your arms, your fingertips,
Sighing for your stomach…

How I long to brush my tongue across you,
Taste the sweetness of your perfect skin once more.

Shatter the distance between us.
Reach out, find me…I am near.
Say to me, Here is that which you desire.
Here I am. Touch me—take my hands in yours,
Touch me with your soft mouth.

My reply to you is passion, sweet lover,
An immensity of intertwining longings.

The glass has vanished. Find my hands.
They’ll swim the rivers of your body freely,
Easily, like fish, or children’s tiny boats atop you,
Rushing to remember every current,
Every turn, each cataract delightfully exciting.

I hear. Your ears drop their hundredweights—
The music of my voice releases you.

Whisper, whisper, Place your hands on my skin.
Feel me—I shudder with infinite desire.
Your fingertips move my breasts,
Your soft lips awaken my thighs—
I am captured by an awakened fire.

The glass has vanished. I alight, softly.
I let your fingertips find my lips.

(c) Patrick Sean Lee, 2011

Sunday, February 20, 2011

This email shattered me...

Listen, your minor typos are nothing that can't be fixed and cannot take away from the brilliance of your book which I am still reading.  sherry wine does not have a capital "S".  I am so captivated, jealous and admiring of this book.

Patrick, have you submitted it to publishers or agents yet?  If not, DO SO IMMEDIATELY.  Anyone who turns this down is a fool.  If you want my Writers Handbook code number so you can access them on line, do this

Go to:

Register using this code: 

I hope it works, although I do have the 2009 version, so it may not.  Worth a try though.

You need to get this out to as many publishers as possible.  It is a fabulous book.  I am going to say something that I never thought possible, but it is true.  I am two thirds of the way through the classic, OF HUMAN BONDAGE, and your book is just as good.  I really mean that.  In fact, it is better!  So take my praise and use it to get yourself published.  If you need my help, i.e., my feedback, etc. to use when approaching an agent or publisher, just ask.  If you don't win the contest, then something is wrong.  My feeble attempt at writing pales in comparison with this, and I truly mean it.
I do so believe in my new version; many others have smiled after  having read it...Trish, Carolann, Cherilyn, Pammy, Laz.  Maybe it's finally Marvin's time, God love him. 
Thank you, Valerie.

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Saturday Morning

Gooooood Morning!

Poke me in the eye if you like.  I might grit my teeth and step back.  But if you poke my friends in the eye...999 out of a thousand...I'm stepping forward.

Sunday, February 13, 2011


So I learned something new!

The Romance Contest came and went, and I didn't place.  That took the wind out of my sails for a bit, until I really considered The Book of Angelina. Oh, there was some nice lyrical writing in it...the dream sequence, but it wasn't a short story. Only a vignette. I threw in (literally) an ending statement, and entered, confident it would place. In the book it was taken from, it makes perfect sense, situated in the chapter as it is...
Had I extended the dream a bit...beginning, middle, and end--fleshed out a bit more--I could have made it into a story that had no extraneous elements (Matthew's pov).  I suppose. Hindsight is 20/20.  Okay, mine might be 20/30:)
Still, I was delighted for Serena. I helped her edit her entry.  She did well. Proud of her.
Robynn seemed almost apologetic concerning her entry!  But why?  She did her best--we all did--and she should be proud of her efforts. I applaud her. She took the judges private comments to her and used them to strengthen her story.  These people didn't know us from Adam.  Critics "out there" in the real world who read, judged, and announced. She benefited, and is now a stronger writer.

So short stories...honestly, I believe had I pushed Graciella instead of Angelina (this WAS a Romance contest), I would have done much better.  It had all the elements needed, plus a resolution that everyone has commented on, lol. Yes...Graciella told Martin...:)

The Get Published.
Thanks, Val and Laz:)
I'm the Wildcard choice with Marvin. God, how I rushed to get those missing chapters written--tie the story together! I have to thank Trish, Paige, and Cherilyn for critting chapters as I wrote. But now I'm re-reading, catching little plot errors.  Oops.  Critting chapters is one thing.  Analyzing plot is something else entirely.  A different mode of reviewing. Well, I wrote much of it--rewrote it--over a year ago, and then finished up a few weeks back, having put it aside to work on other stuff. I went for more genuinely real characters this time around, especially concerning John Sampson and John Delilah. Overall I am confident I succeeded. It will require another final edit, though, lol.
It's a James Michener length book compared to most of the entries! 114,000 words. The minimum word count allowed was 30,000.  That's a bloody novelette! That's okay. Conditions of entry are conditions of entry:)
Trish asked me again last week what the theme of the story was. I was hard pressed to answer (again). Love makes all things possible? Maybe it's the quote I put by Robert Fulghum on the first page..."I believe that imagination..." I just tried to write a good story. We'll see how it's judged.

Aside: There are some harsh critics vis a vis Bookrix. No matter what they think or say, it's an incredible site.  I have to laugh, it's so filled with starry-eyed kids writing VAMPIRE STORIES, and bless them, so many who haven't a clue about constructing a sentence--let alone a paragraph.  But some of us who know the basic rules are there to help.  Anyone, anywhere, of any age can actually create a book. Design a cover...the works. How neat! Better, there are more than a few authors who know how to write.  I don't mean journeyman, either. Real talent.  Why are they there? God, I don't know for certain.  Maybe they write lousy query letters, lol. A few legitimately published authors, too.
But many friends--many who know how to write and will take the time to privately review your work.  I'm glad I stumbled onto it...even if I didn't like Val's demure profile photo at first:) :) :)  She's a gem.
I should mention, I guess.  If you want to see my page, go to Bookrix.com and search felixthecat. When the screen comes up, click on user profile.  It'll take you to my homepage:)
God bless us one and all.