Spring Bloom, Grand.Ma has labored broom
Layered bub underground, humanity sound
First above Plant base human foot soul
A flower stem, human spinal cord simular
Flowers Leafs, Humans arms and hands
Flower petals , humans head and face two lips
Leaves holds petals in place
Hands caress embrace
I kiss the lips you're too lips I taste
Essense, swoon.Flowers,
3 inner outer ring. Stamen part of flower.
Erect green stem waxy green leaves
Corrugated white erect spinal cord
Spring Bloom, Grand.Ma has labored broom
Layered bub underground, humanity sound
Leaves holds petals in place
Hands caress embrace
I kiss the lips you're too lips I taste
My woman I present I taste
Presenting Tulips and I kiss her two lips
7/27/26
Writtem by James Edward Lee Sr 2026
It was not long ago that Gordon Gleek,
the renowned and gifted science geek,
announced to the world that whales can speak.
But, on this fine blue blubbery day,
the only thing this whale has to say
is mind your own business bub,
and, furthermore, glub, glub, glub, glub.
You’re in the army now
Lather you up, lather you down
Jump in the tub, give a good rub
Bucket of H2O over your head, bub
The line "Looks like a good night to fly"
last words of a Reddit user's great-uncle referred to as Gillybilly
Gillybilly's great-uncle was a Navy pilot in WW II who flew jets for 30 years
I've been behind bars for way too long
each time a prison warden sings that same old song,
"When you've done your time Bub we will release yous"
I'd shuffle my cards then let them fall, hadn't I paid my dues?
They called it psychosis, a personality disorder that distorts reality
it seems to me I have been in here for Oh! a mere eternity!
"Unable to understand his wrongful actions, cuff those guys!" they said,
I replied, "Its a good day to die" in my killer clown's disguise
When the Commissioner said, " go ahead release him " to the guards
I washed my face, combed my hair, and played my last trump card
Sitting on the grass watching the last shards of light, I was glad I didn't die
I came to realize that I was now alone, ... "Looks like a good day to fly"
I whispered to a bat as he soared hard and fast against the sky,
"Looks like a good night to fly," and then I began to cry !
I ja ja ja juh just
Wanna let everyone na na na nuh know
Wuh wuh wuh what I’ve learns...
Fph fph fph fuh faith is grace fph fph fph ful and
Na na na nuh not earned.
Miming my bamboo fph fph fph fishing pole,
I rig the hook with a wuh wuh wuh worm.
I ka ka ka kuh cast up ma ma ma muh my line
Into Heaven...
Wuh wuh wuh wuh wondering
The time away and
Pa pa pa puh pondering...
What kind of fph fph fph fph fph fuh fish
Will take da bub bub bub buh
Bait?
Luscious teacakes twirl in white coats,
Meringues do zumba rumba
Naughty nibbles dance bub-to-bub
Orange pekoe snugs the cosy
Petite posies ring-a-rosie
I jumped on the train, feeling bad.
It cost me all the money I had.
Is that seat empty, tell me bub?
I asked, clutching my ticket stub.
I knew not where it was going.
The man across from me looked knowing.
Will it take me to a safe haven?
Through the window, I saw a raven.
The man marked down one more tally
as the train bogged down in a valley.
The low sun cast a shadow dark
as I was forced to disembark.
The knowing man, he would not talk,
but I was going to have to walk.
I felt I would not be afraid,
as I looked to the sky and prayed -
and breathed my last earthly breath,
in the valley's shadow of death.
Golly, what a Pickle you’re In -- Bub,
How is it That you’re stuck in a Pub?
Gullible -- You look, Pimp
for why not hop, on Blimps?
and Fly in its Massive Ruba-dub.
looking at the world within
he hangs his head down by his chin
many walk by; he makes them think
he is on the brink, he is on the brink
some sit beside him and give him a rub
they feel a kindship, call him “Bub”
He remains inert, his head hanging down
they stay around, they stay around
I am called to sit for a while
He never looks up, gives me no smile
But I feel a connection right away
I stay all day, I stay all day
I.
The weather is cold. Do you need a sweater?
I feel warm and fine – never better.
Anything I can do for you?
Can’t think of one thing or two.
Want a hot cup of tea?
No thanks, not for me.
A nice back rub?
Not now bub.
Goodbye!
Bye!
II.
Hi!
Oh, hi!
How are you?
I have the flu.
Something I can do?
Can I have chicken stew?
So sir, I have no chicken,
But with toadstools I could thicken.
A nice back massage would sure be nice.
I surely doubt you could afford the price.
What nursery rhyme's gayer, I'm asking you, bub,
Than the one that has three grown men sharing a tub?
Was it their sexual orientation,
Or merely water conservation,
And they were all charter members of the Sierra Club?
When Simple Simon met the pieman going to the fair,
He thought the guy an easy mark he could con out of his wares.
But the pieman glared at him and hissed,
"Bub, I ain't no danged pie-lanthropist!
Admit I must, you've got some crust,
But show me dough and then my wares I'll share."
But in the fact that it was barking
trees
The wind moving the tree branches in the night
trees
I felt compelled to sniff the summer lawn
Compelled so to remembering my late nightly gatherings
Where are the dandelions I want them greened
night
So that I may eat them
It's that overnight I muttered fallen into winter colors
But in the fact that it was murmuring
night
That those leafs, brown in grey fallen falls colors socializing
While I pondered, gathering parts of shrubs
I threw my eyes upon the floor covered vision with evergreens
dead
It threw its ghost against the introductions
Dead blossom no longer blooms
That communal meeting
That communal meeting
Fallen autumn winter trees dormant
dead
There stood a social flower deaden bub
While yet still pondering gathered parts of deaden shrubs
And the party never clocking
splendid socialization sleeping
Fallen autumn winter trees dormant
Birds sneaking back building nest
dormant
2/10/2023
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2023©
U K minus queen, where All's not as it seems; the crowds Will Gather, there will be much piety and blather, shoulders
To be rubbed, as people dive into the hub-bub at the
Shop restaurant golf club or pub, has something been
Forgotten? that prior was reported ; of ad-nausem top
To bottom, covid nineteen! prevelant on radio TV screen
Of an era with the Queen, remember; don't go getting it '
Is it still on the scene.? Or is just I'm confusing it with
The prevelance of reports on the dying of a queen?
Of course you will not catch it.' Socially if you mourn
The British Queen.! I mean how could a dose of covid
Ever so tasteless be regarded important; next to the wake
Of the reigning queen? So go, out to the highway and
Gather on the strand; wave your flags don black cry on
Others shoulders, in some anti-quarrantine.' And how '
deep sea
would be
new bub
on sub
fall down
long frown
nerves shot
gut knot
crush depth
last breath
light red
hope fed
want live
may give
can’t bear
no air
2/13/2022
A Strand (1073) Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
inspired by the movie Black Sea
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