Best Treating Poems
The sweet-sour scent of waning hay
drifts to town from nearby fields,
pleasing all walkers with an edgy peace.
While autumn gusts enliven shadows,
the wavering moon turns sheets to ghosts,
and disguises reveal diverse fancies.
The mind evokes bewitching specters
cavorting like bats on their nightly hunts,
quickening the pace of parent and child.
Spooky music beckons from porches,
conjuring up faux frights and terrors,
as diffuse mysteries tug at innocence.
Went to treat my nerves
Will come back in the morning
Drunk tender horny
When I get lonely, I step out of my home
and surround myself with people familiar or unknown.
After 1 hour with people, I realize what I've always known.
I am so mother freaking grateful to be alone,
and then my loneliness ends and I return home.
TREATING PEOPLE UNFAIR
if you think about
life and how people treat you
most treat you bad and...
they find nothing good
nothing good in you so they
speak untruths and lies
9/1/18
written by James Edward Lee Sr.©2018
Trick or Treat, "Edith get the door," yells Archie!!
"Oh Archie they are so cute come and look Please."
"Shut up Edith just give them their stupid candy, will ya?"
" I'm not dealing with Meathead, you, and these brats all night, Na"
" Edith don't give Snickers bars, they're my favs, are you crazy?"
Michael Tor
Inspired by Lin Lane
Archie Bunker was
a rude SOB he starred
in a sitcom called All
In The Family. He had
no manners and
treated his wife Edith
like she was dumb,
but Edith was smarter
than him...
Like a zombie at a town picnic
Scarfing brains in my room, like a shtick
My costume I offed
For I retched and coughed
Mom said, "That was the ultimate trick!"
October 30th, 2019
9
9
5
5
9
The book that’s my absolute favorite
is the most effective by far
after all my years of stuttering
having left many a inward scar
‘The treatment of stuttering’ on hardback
written by the renowned Charles van Riper
a former severe stuttered now it’s master
so hoping could be my stuttering wiper
Having tried many therapies in my life
none had much effect upon my tongue
so now in my early 60s one last fling
giving it my all so full must be my lung
CVP was leading speech pathologist
with this book showed his learned light
working out his pre-block modification
hoped this technique be my speaking sight
Now since my study of this therapy
can get coffee on my very own
this indeed is a huge forward step
so now make on to next milestone
The fears of past now receding
thanks be to God for His intervention
directing me to get hold of this book
giving me the way to speech correction
('The treatment of Stuttering' by Charles van Riper (1905-1994)
Speech Pathologist and former severe stutterer.)
Another yawn
'Tis early in the morning
4 a.m. again...now 6 a.m.
So I do what poets do...
Turn the pages of my brain
Searching for something
Old to share...or write something
clever and new...
Soooo here it is...
Hoping your day is filled with
Someone's radiant smile
I hope your day is crowded with hugs,
Hope your day is flooded with phone
calls from family or friends...
I hope you'll find the time to caress,
If only with your eyes, the flowers
inside my endless paper gardens,
Real or unreal -in some magazine
you are holding...a distant vision arrives.
I have my mother's Garden magazines
and I often flip through those
flowerbeds with immense wanderings
Each one thriving rooted from the 70's.
Take a walk, call someone to join you
For an ice cream cone...
Ah come on... so you have give up french fries...
Don't close the shades to the sun screaming
to be let in...
If some Senior Soul complains that the AC
is tooooo cold, it really is...
Smile and offer a sweater, knee cover...
offer anything to warm them up, except
a frown...
Place your PC near a window so you can
see outside...
The Crape Myrtles are in bloom
Roses are showing off their beautiful faces.
No this is not another garden poem...
Early moring rising...
Musing!
Humming!
Singing too, of course!
Hey! You out there!
Have a great Day!
Early moring rising
Blessed to do so!
Thank you Lord!
Trick-or-Treating in the 60’s.
The good ole days.
When no one wore a bloody costume
Or a provocative costume or an offensive costume.
An innocent time when adults monitored children.
We had those awful hard plastic masks
The ones with an elastic string that broke.
They were ill-fitting and made seeing almost impossible.
Our parents did not drive us to the good neighborhoods.
We walked from house to house trick-or-treating with
People who knew us in our own neighborhood. No one checked their candy.
Homemade brownies and popcorn balls were devoured not discarded.
They were our favorite treats, we ate them between houses.
When it was getting late these adults who knew us sent us home
And we went without protesting because they were adults and we knew respect.
Did I mention we said thank you too? Integrity and manners preceded us.
Trick-or-Treaing in the 60’s.
In the dark outside,
all the kids try to hide.
Door to door.
Looking for more.
Running and screaming.
Not knowing the true meaning.
Of this night.
What it could be like.
I look around
to find my own,
and I notic to my horror,
that one of them is gone!
I have six daughters,
and the count is five!
Which one is gone?
Is she alive?
Gather them around
They're all scared now.
Their eyes are big and round.
One's gone, they don't know how.
Now I'm yelling,
"Where's your sister? Where?"
Without a word they are crying,
and looking for her.
And where could she be?
Then they all just look at me.
"Mom, you're tired. Lets go home.
For our sisters not alone.
No need for scolding.
The sister you lost, you're holding."
(This is a fictional poem)
Years ago on Halloween I wanted to wear costumes that were scary.
But my parents always made me go as the tooth fairy.
People laughed at me all over town.
It took years for me to live it down.
It was something that I always hated.
When I was a teenager, I never dated.
When I asked girls out, they always laughed.
Now all of these people are feeling my wrath.
I make them sorry that they made fun of me.
I bought the bank and I foreclose on their property.
They say I'm mean but I say Tough.
I tell them to start packing their stuff.
People have learned that laughing at me isn't a good thing to do.
If you laugh at me, I'll foreclose on you.
Form:
With ghosts and ghouls out and about
They make kids quiver,scream and shout
Treats soon calm them down
When they come around
While tricks will spark another bout.
Oh ,my dear beloved five -room box, You're designed a set of five round tins, in which spices are stored like a tools box, My mum treats you as a treasure of our mansion.
Oh, my dear costly cooking spices box, You're filled of five essential spices, Mustard, fenugreek, cumin, fennel and pepper box, And they make us to live lively and alive.
Oh, my dear fine first -aid kit, You're used to treating minor injuries and pains, Black pepper is healing wounds as a gift, And it can help with bone health gains.
Oh,my dear beneficial treasure bin, Your five seeds are very fruitful in many ways, Cumin is a traditional medicine like a safety pin, And it controls sugar level in those days.
Oh,my dear valuable money box,
My mum keeps you as a secret treasury, You play many roles like a life clock, And we can't forget your functionality for century.
There was no trick or treating tonight
The weather had made it too light
So they went to a show
Where the dead tend to go
Which gave them much more of a fright!
“How’s life treating you?” A neighbor
Recently inquired.
He’s a working dad and I’m
A nana, long retired.
“I can’t complain,” was my reply,
“Or rather, I will not.”
For what’s the point when, after all,
I’m grateful for a lot.
The elevators in our building
Finally both work
So endless waiting is no more
What many weeks did irk.
I’m happy for the little things;
There isn’t much to gain
From doing what I often do -
Carp, grumble and complain!