Glimitz!
According to your order - pronounce,
I weigh less than an ounce.
As gratchens flame and fly, to my disdain,
I wonder, have you got a light?
A conference call,
a violin,
a gently rappling, nightly nappling, finger poppling, ripe penguin,
all of them, on ice,
or would slipslod them on rice?
Catch a tory,
a chicken allegory,
seizing up, all oblong,
I don't belong,
I am more a scroodle square - don't glare.
Chattanooga,
What's it to ya?
Blampart on rye -
as I sit and sigh,
a bicycle goes by.
Oglethorpe in greeches,
idly ironing breeches;
say aloud:
I'm not unproud.
Morebly, I am constitutional.
Cribble, Crabble, my friend Jasper,
grasshoppers of alabaster,
frogs from South Chicago,
a ballpark frank for Joe,
did I stub my finger?
...or my stomach?
Saskatoony
on the half shell,
Pinkerton gets all wet.
Could I ever master
Vogon without regret?
teens table their tablets —
a boy and girl lean into conference.
their mom, the professional, puzzled
as the family dishes out dinner, discussing
the call, “that man and his sidekick, so funny!”
tasteful humor provides entertainment.
6/10/2021
Bite Size Poem no6
Sponsor - Line Gauthier
Like an empty glass
Hope fills
among the mass
Hope fills the glass
Empty carts
broken Heart
Hope fills
Like a chuck hole
Concrete asphalt filled
Joy is spilled
Empty box
Toddler falls
Hung up conference call
Unemployed wallets moneyless
Empty pockets
Empt y hands empty Glass empty hearts purple glance
I'm filling chance
12/12/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2020
Can I declare a duty poetic,
orating of a love alphabetic?
No honorable intentions,
free-venting my notions…
Escapes in a mere write,
reshaping joys, or spite…
Echoing wordy sashays,
nuances, and mind play…
Calculating mythomania,
elevates to an egomania!
Cast the grandiose delusions aside
Artistry is where pretensions abide…
Like words full of farce,
levitate beautiful scars!
(10/12/2020: '05 Crownline 236 LS, Folsom)
I have a good charade
I can make a step from a stumble
No need to be afraid
Here in the human jungle
When you’ve a good charade
If you’ve a good charade
The tigers will not pounce on you
If you’re camouflaged
The gorillas will not pound on you
If they think you’re a god
You know, a good charade
I have a good charade
I can make a scream sound musical
Learning to make the grade
Here in the giant cubicle
It’s all a good charade
A really good charade
The paperweight is a pacemaker
The conference call, traffic for drugs
The copier is life-support
Lord, let me never be unplugged
And never let them debug
My sweet charade
It’d be a pity to debug
Such a good charade.
I kissed them both goodbye and said that I would try
To meet them in two days down at the shore
I had some work to do but as soon as it was through
We’d all have some fun, that’s for sure
I was on a conference call when outside the house I saw
A policeman walking to the door
I said I had to go, somehow being in the know
That I’d see my family nevermore
The look upon his face froze me standing in one place
I never heard a single word that he said
The picture he showed to me was of twisted metal around a tree
Where they had found my wife and child dead
A deer carcass on the road explained the tragedy, I am told
But nothing explains the sense of it all
How could a God up above take away all that I love
Is my only question as I can recall
Now I lay awake each night in a room devoid of light
And envision that picture on his phone
Twisted metal around a tree is the only thing that I can see
As my whimpers echo throughout the home
Twisted metal around a tree is the only thing that I can see
As my whimpers echo throughout the home
- A Fictional Tale, by Joe Flach