Best Mar Poems
Braid thoughts of thee and smile Caelan
What waits beyond the burning Sun
The wife took a job that pays pretty fair
Combing out daylight from Trump's orange hair
Displaying his lust
Trump stares at her bust
Confirming an Ace can not beat a pair!
Cinco de Mayo
At Mar-a-Lago
Is serving up Mexican lies
Trump welcomes us all
To pay for his Wall
In a scam each Republican buys
You know Wells Fargo
And Mar-a-Lago
Are models of integrity
Well, that big Caravan
Is Cartel to a man
There is no true refugee!
So forget the backlash
Just send Trump your cash
For a Wall that defines liberty!
ON THE TOUR BUS IN SAN MAR-ANDORRA-STEIN
“We are older than your George Washington;
We have the tallest fields of cotton
West of the Volga; and our castles are small
But all guaranteed to enthrall.......”
It appears this swing-a-cat country
With its pipsqueak army
Of skirt-swinging, fur-slippered,
Medieval-style soldiers carrying a halbard
Has a National Income less, if you please,
Than most big western companies.
Oil comes not in a pipelines, but a tube’ll do
(Costing many hundreds of roubles too.)
“McDonalds came here five years ago -
Their first restaurant east of the Po.
KFC will be coming next year -
It will be a national holiday here......”
I climb wearily back aboard
Our tour bus here abroad.
I don’t wish to seem quirky
But I’d rather be home in Albuquerque.
.....................................................................................
Note
Verses in quotes are the tour guide voice. Other verses are the tourist’s
thoughts.
Important to note this the ACT of dawning in Spanish (know of no English equivalent)
Cape Hatteras
Joe the Moustache
wiping the suds
& plays a black trombone while she
(Joe has taken a player piano
and nickelodean
from his lapels)
hurling now a nylon
and suddenly
slipped out of it all;
Joe throws her a blue and giraffe skin
She blows a kiss
and lifting a thigh
smiles and is gone
Joe into a head
blows himself
away.
I am a moving train
On a journey of no destination
Desperate as desperate can be
If you have embarked on this train in error
Resign yourself to fate
For there is no going back
If you are a willing Partaker
In this adventure of desperation
You are welcome to my world
We are in this together
Hold your breath my passengers
And see how far we can go
In this journey there are no stop overs
There are no restrictions
Let it go on
Do whatever you can
While it lasts
It is an adventure that could make you
It could also mar you
cause traveling is dying a little
Said the Heifer to the Ox: “O‘ sorry Ox,
How terrible to work your heavy yoke,
All day to wheel around that grinding spoke!”
She lay lazy in the shade of nearby rocks.
But Ox plowed onwards. Hearing Heifer’s knocks,
And paying no heed to her pitiful smoke,
He laboured, knowing well the dreadful joke
Which soon was to repay her mindless mocks.
And just then came a large procession near,
Garbed in diadems and resplendent frills;
“O‘ Heifer, if only you’d known your lot,
You’d have held your tongue and lived life in fear!“
The priests, dragging Heifer to the high hills,
Offered her to gods whose favors they sought.
(Inspired by Aesop's "The Heifer and the Ox".)
CAPTAIN MAR-VELL
Alien Kree race
Soldier warrior
A spy
Yet humble
Defers a rumble
Done his native Kree warrior
Military uniform
To sometime protect earthlings
Found of treason for protecting humans
Humanity
Kree's government found him guilty
Later paired molecules with Rick Jones
Temporary logged in the negative zone
Captain Mar-vell
absorbs solar energy
Protector of the Universe
Captain Mar-vell
Whom earthen identity was Walter Larsen
Psionic energy being
was formally equip with mega bands and uni-beams
Emitting beams of pure blackness
And controlling magnetism this new hero
CAPTAIN MARVEL
2/5/18
by James Edward Lee Sr.
A chocolate split with banana
Amuses the girls in Havana
A little ice cream
Does soothe self-esteem
When missionaries shout, "Hose Anna!"
I sense here some things sinister—a scent
of sulphur, sulking in a sultry pit;
a serpent’s hiss, expressed from space unlit;
a warm spell spilling from some seething vent;
I find now some things filthy—foul ferment
foaming, frothing; a gaseous, gurgling slit
discharging fetid, festering, sour spit;
malignant mold in cold, cracking cement;
So languid, loath, obtuse I trepidate
on into the black bowels of my home.
Gagging back a nausea’s tepid bubble,
shivering a shudder that won’t abate,
discover I a gory catacomb.—
Woah… I see well now how bad my trouble!
Pow! the pale powder pumps power into
The pastor’s panicked pulse. Peeing his pants,
He pulls his parcel and pitter-patters
To the piss-pot, paying his penile penance.
Where went my package, ordered long ago?
The app displays delivered, but no proof waits
At the door, nor at the store—no box, no crates,
Whereto my package? I simply don’t know…
Was it stolen, picked up by some joe schmo?
Or lost in transit, misplaced, dropped, as fate’s
Great comedy, with mischievous whim dictates?
Whereto my package? I really don’t know…
This stupid app is just no help, I swear,
The tracking code is gone, the “Contact us”
Is missing, or hiding in some strange place,
Tucked away from consumers unaware.
Oh! and to what end, all this tedious fuss?
Where is my package? There’s not a damn trace…
I'm not sure how it all began,
When this soothsayer became heroic to some.
As he molded a story of greatness,
Against what our nation has now become.
Those that listened were mesmerized by his fable,
As he wove a tale of conspiracy and doubt.
Then his minions spread the veil of shadows,
To every corner with whispers they could shout.
Almost miraculously, this mirage became a leader,
Beginning a reign that some wish to forget.
But his actions won't be lost to history,
Since the aftermath lives on to regret.
Early on in his term of division, the
Tactics would erode basic trusts once held high.
Such that... we are a nation made up almost entirely of
Non-natives, yet that must stop, & he'll build a wall with lies.
Soon after, attacks were focused on the media,
As 'fake news' ran rampant in the press.
While the mouthpieces, such as, Hannity and Tucker,
Provided his message to the ignorant, more or less.
It wasn't long before this infection on credibility,
Attacked our very own intelligence community next.
Because ol' 45 would disparage the CIA & others,
Preferring Kim Jong and Putin's rhetoric and text.
Now to be fair, he did accomplish something...
A huge tax-cut that the wealthy endorsed.
So while the rich got richer, the melody sang loudly,
While the poverty of others was reinforced.
Throughout this one-term the primary focus,
Seemed to be undoing everything his predecessor had done.
Now while most of these efforts were negated,
The passionate pursuit gave himself, so much fun.
The ongoing hatred towards Obama and Hilary,
Was a constant theme in the Trump-laden White House.
Lending fuel to the fire of partisan politics, while
Staff and contemporaries posed quietly as a mouse.
The end of this pathetic term was filled with failure,
As dual impeachments and the lost election were to blame.
Followed by legal matters that consumed a nation,
As proud followers were jailed in his name.
Yet the MAGA minority spread far & wide to the horizon,
Where vocal women shamelessly sought his favor to gain.
So between Marjorie, Lauren, and Kari...
Their BDE chorus was tuned to deny any pain.
While conducting this orchestra of disaster,
A nation held hostage, sought truth in the wake.
To the point where regardless of convictions or pardons,
Our Constitution and democracy, will not be proven fake.
My bars the words, the prison guard my verse,
Rattling the staves of this poetic cell,
I struggle vainly, locked up in this jail.
Yea, thus is my predicament, my curse.
Oh, how jealously, you smirking blank verse,
I look upon what freedom guides your quill;
For formal phrasing does of me compel
Stubborn structures—the styles which I rehearse.
But, boldy bumbling, art is now arising!
Walls becoming my score, and tallies tones, ?Confined to meter, bound by rigid rhyme,
I yet find measures full of surprising
Motifs. The modern poet at sonnets groans,
But I, I do believe they’re quite sublime.
Bless the Lord, O my soul;
And forget not all his benefits. Psalm 103:2
One day our family joined hands and bowed heads as usua
, intending to bless the Lord and His gifts of food
As we did, our youngest daughter-not quite two years old-asked to lead
For a protracted moment
Her straw colored bangs hung over her rosy cheeks while she stared at our clasped hands
In suddenly exuberant voice
Loud enough for the entire heavenly host to hear
she prayed words she could barely pronounce
“Thank You God for … SINGERS
Daddy’s singers
Brudder’s singers
sissy’s singers
Mommy’s singers
A-men
Our teenagers chuckled at her cute at-tempt to say fingers
We exchanged satisfied smiles with one another
That day
Her childlike wonder reminded us of countless gifts we often take for granted
Even now as I use my hands to type I realized how precious these fingers are
How about you
What simple gifts are hiding in plain sight that you don’t want to forget
Bless you, Lord, and all your gifts