Collectible Poems | Examples

The Frog That Became King

He took an oath beneath the chandelier palace,
tongue lapping at furtive moth wings.
A crown of collectible bottle caps
balanced on his warty brow.

Lilith bowed as he passed,
her petals muttering oaths.
Tadpoles formed a scepter’s ascendency,
guiding his webbed ascent.

In the court of cattails and reeds,
he declared dominion over ripples.
Bullfrogs drummed a royal cadence,
while dragonflies danced in tribute.

But power is an annoying fly,
buzzing just beyond reach.
A heron’s aperture loomed large,
eyes shined with hunger.

Final words stung in the chasm:
“Long live the king.”
Then muted,
as the throne sank beneath the reeds.

SEA GLASS

O’ I sea! Kaleidoscopes pageantry beige dew of specks of sands
Sun shines powerful midst the high day mass;
Mine eyes sees is a smooth and rounded pieces of glass;
Sparkled weathered and polished by the waters, waves and sand;

Mine eyes spies as it sees from the watery sea;
Distinguished smooth, rounded shapes, 
Frosted surface texture, and unique color variations debris;
O’ I sea! The color of sea glass deepens none phosphate;


Also known as beach glass;
 By the action of waves and sand; 
It is a popular collectible beautiful catch;
And can be found on beaches all over the world lands;

"Genuine sea glass” Common colors include by lots;
Of white, brown, green, and blue, while rarer colors like red, orange,
And yellow are highly sought after by collector’s connoisseurs;
Tumbled in the ocean for years broken glass tumbled broken rounded pretty to the amateur

7/17/24
Sea Glass Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Craig Cornish

roaming into the past - Ephemera

I like roaming thrift stores
full of worthless things
lost treasures that I can hold
within my hands and mind
capturing a time gone
for a pretty hand painted cup
a collectible or a relic from the past

I love the old dishes
what stories they could tell
I imagine their history
oh, I could write a poem about old dishes

things from times long passed
inspire me to hold a treasure for a moment
I do not have to own it
to capture it with my thoughts and pen
but oh dear the vintage jewelry is my weakness
how can I touch it with my hand
and not own it, how, and I always wonder who did

a visit to the thrift store is quite inspiring
but I best write it down because it is fleeting

HER TASTE ESPECIALLY SWEET-

Her caramel essence I tasted her heart
 it was strawberry tart
I kissed her beautiful feet
 they were very sweet
I stroked her hair 
that was so fair
Her essence 
very vessel so precious
 sweet nectar her sweat
Her essence collectible 
confectionate
Sweet tantalizing is the blood that flows
Sweet and taught lavender succulent
Her skin is sweet
Her eyes so peak her aroma
I taste her calm
I taste her faith brilliant
Her taste especially sweet
A Daughter of Elohim Father
O' I love her

12/12/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2023

treasure

fine collectibles
	nature’s munificent gifts ~
		infinite treasure

Contours of Passion

You are a thousand miles of sheer delight,
When I turn the key our passions ignite,
Firing off a strong robust heart that's yours,
My knees weaken waxing your sleek contours,
O' my splendiferous, overpriced Genie,
My bright yellow, dream Matchbox* Lamborghini

8/12/22

*Toy collectible cars

Bitesize poem No.56 poetry contest

Sponsor: Line Gauthier


14/12/22
Second Chance N/A Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand

Cats Not the Musical

Cockroaches backstroke lazily 
in pools of condensed milk.
Stacked newspapers pile up,
yellowing ingrained tabloids.

Her bed has a curved spine,
her couch is a witchery shaped coven,
a semaphore center for twitching tails.

At her whirling core, she is mad,
the way angels go mad,
with bright-eyed ecstasy.

The cat food cans are collectible,
labels brown in a mold-tinted twilight
all else decays 
with the half-life of stale urine.

She calls her pink-tongued children
by secret names,
names handed down by necromancers
to generations of neurotic felines,

cackles, while she sleeps, spinning fur balls
the size of small planets.

Jokes101 Recycled: March 26 In South Africa

TIME issues:
1. Whenever I am short on time, I eat my watch, and always have seconds to spare.

2. Why do I still buy old clocks and collectible watches in a cellphone age? I love keeping time.

Wearing Slippers On the Ice

Decked out and wearing slippers
Driveway ten miles high or so it seems
Icy and unrelenting
Why does my David think
we can make it through the moss?
We climb the cliffs or so it seems

Two sons, well a son and his friend,
see me almost meet my end
They’ve been staring out the pane
Are they teens at all?

I slip as if drunk ~
a winterwork’s wipeout

‘Fore I can blink
I’ve been set upright
betwixt the stately oaks,
carried into the comforting arms
of home

Sons are born, some come as a friend —
together they save a mother
from death’s humiliation and shudder

I think my David made it inside
He must have ‘cause he is by my side

The next uproar is our hearty laugh
as our car sits lonely at the bottom
awaiting tomorrow’s thaw

Things look prettier
behind the pane

and once again these young men
morph into teens
hiding in their cave

Like fairies at midnight,
no one believes they exist
to save you, reset your timeline

Boys grow up to be men
sometimes it shows
‘fore their time

and love grows for two sons -
one will stay,
the other’s the equivalent 
of one snowflake ~
worth a dendritic cent,
a collectible

10/26/2020

I'M In Love With H U E

Your Rainbow mine your purple soul t
The emerald spirit I'm in love with h u e

Red green brown tan terrain 
Drenched in tangent Blue Horizon

Pillowed in white  pearls of puffs
The Ambrose. I'm in love with h u e

Fluorescent kaleidoscope of effervescent
Body of color cavalcade
Surrounded by pageants of radiant parades
Awesome beautiful spectacle
Radiant beautiful collectible
Body ever so colorful
Your Rainbow mind your purple soul
Your emerald spirit Essence blue...
I'm in love with h u e

Written words  by James Edward Lee Sr 2019

Hope's Illusion

Romantic dreams are filled with joy,
but that is not always the case.
For sometimes you're somebody's toy;
a collectible, pretty face.

Fueled by dreams and delusion;
vows lack any sincerity.
And embracing hope's illusion,
You let lies fog your clarity.

When half of a duality,
love should not come into question.
But viewed in their totality,
his lies look like an obsession.

Ask yourself why love's on trial;
if you believe you have found bliss.
And stop living in denial;
Happiness is more than a kiss.

Doubt weighs heavy upon your mind,
so you need to unmask its cause.
And though you're scared of what you'll find,
confront it and put trust on pause.

Cruel To

Every fascination becomes a bauble
a gold encrusted noose
on which to dangle
the desperation of appeal

Stuffed into feathers fashioned
cushions fighting for the adverts
these sown together facsimiles 
is the me in expressive tailor-made

And your life a piece of art work    
each symbols collectible remark  
paints the mask
of who you never really are
In the mirror dissatisfaction
daily judgment of perfection
you wear it like a scar
never a smile for who you really are

If you were and only could be
more faultless than you really should be
a photo posed abstracts anatomy of beauty
the accommodation of magazine publicity 

Every fascination becomes a bauble
a gold encrusted noose
on which to dangle
the desperations to appeal
a presentation of nothing that is real
such are the cruel theaters of the skin
betraying a soul wishing not to be constrained within

Antiques Roadshow

collectible things
tweaks our brains
and pleasure it brings
its odd but still
the antiquing bug
got me to a thrill

Tokens

And we have become
so cool     so   cool
collectible tokens

token 
bike courier
popping up everywhere
selling pills
selling time
ambiance
reality
through the TV screen
strategic
comedic relief
token
character conflict

bike courier heroes
saving the world

and can we admit
we are so cool
when we feel it
know it to be true
no more just 
a job exists
we will always be
just
the messenger

The Building of a Moment

narrative

Precious novelties, rare and unimpaired
reminder of events I'd love to share.
Recalling special trinkets in a hutch
for display only, labeled "Do Not Touch".

Awaiting finding of a misplaced key,
a new piece tempted curiosity.
Too precious to ignore, my small grandson
maneuvered carefully, warned by his mum.

Rejecting caution, which kids oft ignore
forgetful child just left it on the floor.
The next day, sister found it with her foot.
One piece, now three pieces, ruined, kaput.

Comes precious moment, happ'ning on my watch.
The brother faults his sister for the botch
who then returns accusatory blame.
Routine occurrence, 'companied by shame.
 
The moment builds, we search the house for glue.
Some chips still gone?  Hurrah! we find a few.
Together, we three, talking as we work,
accountable, not acting like a jerk.

A precious moment in our history 
when that collectible met surgery.
Four years later, standing tall, gath'ring dust
a priceless symbol, joint endeavor, plus.

written Jan. 2, 2013, revised June 29, 2017

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