There was once a dock worker whose name was Dick,
His employers knew not, Dick had worked out a perfect trick,
Forty five was his speculated age,
He dressed according to his meager wage,
Went home daily with a barrow, security noticed dick was quick.
On other days they noticed many a different kind of trivia,
Told security was selling empty boxes to buy pills, had leukaemia,
Will tell you more when I retire,
Continued with his routine and poorly attire,
His secret, confessed stole a barrow a day, headlines in media.
Moved to Mexico, learnt Spanish, dyed hair black so could blend,
Applied for a job in revenue office, made many a friend,
Managed and learnt to cheat a little,
Hey Dick be careful, don’t fiddle,
Persisted to play his tricky games, predictably caught at the end.
May we be blessed to understand…
to one day comprehend…
how this world is made more beautiful
by the ways our colors blend.
Acting role of life
Sometimes don't get too attached
Act fair, blend the vibe.
Georgetown Highschool Fire Drill Today
On top--Georgetown's outdoor blackboards
Setup classmate's first-time meetup sort out
Schoolboys head out--henceforth buddy up one-on-one
Outside schoolyards baseball's first base
Schoolgirls show up--nearby football goalpost
A perfect blend with each other,
you can’t underestimate them;
Just enough don’t add another,
a perfect blend with each other;
Bespelled when they’re together,
ink and coffee stains in tandem;
A perfect blend with each other,
you can’t underestimate them.
dot.. by dot..
frozen forever
as a ‘still-life’ shot
juxtaposed
into our eye
colour flows
into shaped
palettes
of the fleeting
made permanent
a point
becomes
an impression
As see so cares
Yet she’s there
Bundled shrouded
Stichic rhyme blend
Clothed in my bare
He caress and shares
12/5/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2023©
Where dreams and passions fuse and freely blend,
In each other's arms, we've found our home.
The sonnet's chain, unbroken, we defend,
A testament of love's enduring dome.
With every passing verse, our hearts will roam,
United in this tale that we create.
Through time and space, together we'll roam,
Our love's sweet song, an eternal mandate.
Amidst the golden rays of dawn's embrace,
The canvas painted with each passing year,
A cherished trove of treasures rich and rare,
Eternal warmth, erasing every fear,
Our love, a beacon, steadfast 'neath dark skies,
A timeless symphony, two souls in grace,
Where dreams and passions fuse and freely blend.
His practical and thoughtful way
It's either day or night,
With barely any shades of grey,
His views are black and white.
She has a multicoloured blend
Of pinks, and greens, and blues,
A reaching rainbow to extend,
Delighting with her hues.
Pragmatic thinkers often feel
Confined to their black ink,
While feelers' colors might conceal
Their longing just to think.
A one-track mind begins to stray
Outside those narrow lines,
While dreamer's hues shall not betray
A search for solid signs.
Upon a sturdy, steady stand,
His canvas black or white,
Will lighten up when colors land,
And tone down ones too bright.
When passion paints in reason's mind,
And logic heals in heart,
Within this balance, you will find
A wondrous work of art.
HE only will wrest against his equals
he refers to his bouts as educating
lesser knowledge individuals.
He referred to woman management as
being stringed along long enough
to find some means of
success.
"when the celebrities look to you
for inspiration
how bad off are things?"
He'll take both trophy and the crown!
his reference to obstacles, was
the right tool for the right job.
to each beginning.
to my new beginning and you sweet ending.
Musanger is the monster that
distracts
people from being inspired, Musanger is
also responsible for not
allowing officiating in less then one-sided
bouts.
22 in numerology confirms the Sheric samples of nexting
relating to "than what is next shall be"
calming the shore makes a perfect day
but does it help with the drought
then he asked
are the nights divided for day
or are the nights divided for nights.
One spoke the days are of the sun
and the nights are of lights.
An athletic greyhound-bulldog blend
is the pride and the joy of South Bend
Fast and vivacious
Strong and tenacious
At Notre Dame he’s playing tight end
Lightning in a bottle
Moonbeams in a sifter
Star dust in a sugar shaker ~
Bartender ever swifter
Too much PC too
Many interpretations
Nothing but problems
I'm with stupid, but...
There are no stupid people
There is ignorance
Rage against culture
Not stupid just misguided
And misdirected
As Spock might say,
"Logic dictates - blending
Ensures survival"
We're all immigrants
And we are Americans
Americans first
Be in the culture
Don't set up your own country
To be catered to
We can't be all things
To all people all of the time
Stir the "Melting Pot"
Darn nice titles though:
Hippie, Yuppie, Zippidy-
Do-Da, I'm Flippie!
The perfect blend of the past
with the present
provides freedom to live
and explore every joy
life presents.
The new lacks flavor from experience,
but has exuberant energy;
the old has flavor and wisdom.
Breathe in deeply,
absorb the light
allow everything to blend
like colors on a canvas
and live.
4-13-2020
Enter the 'STRAND PICK 11,any theme,any form' Poetry Contest
Brian Strand
i reach to you
across spans of sea
my feathered touch
a gust of wind
bowing down
beneath
tips of waves
flushed
from setting sun
trickled tears
gathered in the froth
flow back to me
in trails of pain
etched of distance
i cannot elide
the salty mist
of your eyes
as i cry back
in whispered echoes
along the edges
of blanched shores
September 1. 2019
more muse scribbles inspired by CayCay's comment to my poem
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