AAA
I learned to type in Jr. High.
I learned to tap the keyboard.
One letter than another...
on and on.
AAA
AAA
AA Then... B
AAA
AAB
ABB
BBC
...
One day I came to class,
and we all sat right down as usual.
But to my amazement we were free.
We could do CCC, or DDD... Even ZZZ
My heart was lifted from the monotony
of the drills to lift my skills.
Yet in the end,
it was like magic,
my brain told me nothing,
and I told it just the same.
Regardless of our unspoken conversation...
my hands flew across the board,
as if they were made to dance, and prance,
in an orderly fashion.
I love my typing teacher,
for making me better,
than I was...
before I took the class.
It was a man from ASE ™
Who like to fix his car
On this snowy day
the man would say
Oh! How I miss AAA™
3/2/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021
Artistic
Attraction
Allures
Use charm with the arm down through your fingers
Open the ears and listen
See through sight with movements of sound
Placing your feet into a dancing mode
Tickle the ears of others while soothing your own
Capturing their thought’s with words unknown
While rhyming them with sounds of thunder
Whisking them away into a state of wonder
Ave!
You alone are the
Absolute and Almighty Authority
--Appoint and anoint us as agents
in your army against the antagonist
as he awaits his Avenger and the abyss
Alleluia!
You are our Advocate,
abiding, awe-inspiring, able, and appealing
--Admonish us again in our avarice,
abuse and anger
--Aid us also to abandon adultery, abortion,
apostasy, arrogance and anxiety.
Amen!
You are the Ancient of Days, the Alpha, Abba,
Adonai, Anointed One and the I AM.
--Accept the aroma of agape love arising in
the air as we act in one accord.
written March 28, 2019
Sponsor: Beata Agustin
Contest: ALLITERATION REGARDING RELATIONSHIP WITH GOD
Poetry is a lost art,
Which stems from the pangs,
Of a tormented hearted,
The pain of loss,
Emotion is the true cost,
But without it,
I'd truly be lost,
In the moments,
My heart turns dark,
Thankfully there is always a lone spark,
Which saves me,
From losing my heart,
My soul,
The words I write,
Are out of my control,
I could not tell you,
How I relinquish control,
How, for a moment,
I am letting go,
Of what it means to be me,
Poetry has set me free.
YOU SAY TOM-AAA-TO
Never ever say sorry.
No matter how put,
a meagre sorry tastes
like yesterday’s curled sandwich,
obstinately irrelevant
to any serious discourse.
Instead, play for effect;
make your mark
with the equivalent
of a six course lunch,
a gourmet spread
of words, allusions
and classical reference;
then profusely apologise
with discipline and skill.
When sitting down
on completing this task,
you may append, quite silently,
the word *******, if American,
or the much more redolent British word
arsehole, even if American !
(Challenge words : sorry taste obstinate relevant serious play lunch gourmet apologise)