Daiiy run
much fun
By the creek
pleasure seek
Use thumb
guitar strum
Tibetan rite
anti -ageing delight
Crossword puzzle
no hustle
Sun bake
tan make
Fruit breakfast
hunger past
Early rise
before sunrise
With wife
joyous life
Grandchildren come
happy hum
Blue sky
eagles fly
Stay home
write poem
spooky Christmas tree dances in witch Winnie Web's corner
candy bowl with pumpkin spice, sitting next to mourner
red and green candle is glistening with glitter said the bat
who is wearing masquerade mask to fool the hostess’s cat
the trick to being unseen is not dark shared merry ghosts
their grave words were spooky, if you asked the Christmas host
haunted bubble lights on the Christmas tree lit up the room
What five letter word starts with g and rhymes up with broom?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The wire rims~
thin as a whisper,
holding the weight of every page he turned,
every clockface he squinted at before dawn.
Now they sit,
empty orbits on my desk.
I lift them,
and the world bends~
not as he saw it,
but as I imagine he did:
The morning newsprint smudging into prayer,
the stubborn lawnmower that refused to start,
my childhood face,
always slightly out of focus,
as if love itself were a thing
that needed adjusting.
I wear them like a ghost.
The bridge rests light,
almost apologetic,
as if they knew
they were never meant to be mine.
Through Pop’s lenses,
the light is softer,
the edges kinder.
The coffee stains on the counter
look like continents he never visited.
The crossword puzzle~
half-finished,
pen dropped mid-clue~
becomes a map of all the words
he didn’t have time to say.
I take them off.
The room sharpens
into my own life again,
but for a moment,
I swear,
the air smelled like his aftershave,
and the light was gold,
the way it is
just before it fades.
I run in a circle.
Shivering.
Then I ran outside.
“It’s not warmer there,” they laugh.
I try to climb the fence again.
It’s October at the hospital.
They keep it cold.
Although they don’t have ice for our water.
Shivering, while holding a cup.
I can’t sleep, and I missed dinner.
I miss my mom more.
They let us have paper.
Sometimes we get a magazine or a crossword puzzle.
I pretend I’m writing a grand story.
I tell it to the other patients.
Some understand, some are lucid enough to scoff at me.
Paper and crayons are safe.
It is safe here. They promised.
I got a paper cut, anyway.
Lights out.
Shivering again.
It’s no warmer out there.
I think they’re right…
It’s October and it’s sinking in.
But at least out there…
I could live.
As a scarecrow on a post or something.
And it would be windy and cold.
I’d still feel better.
Wearing my overalls like scarecrows do.
Moaning and groaning like scarecrows do.
I might die someday.
I would hate to be a janitor here.
The janitor turns around.
“It’s not warmer anywhere.”
It’s November in the hospital.
They told me so.
Playing solitaire to while the time away
I found that I was sleeping later, every single day
I tried to think of a new pastime
to challenge myself some more
So, first I became a sex fiend
until in the act I began to snore
Next I took up bungie-jumping
but I found it rather a bore
One last attempt – a crossword puzzle
‘til for ‘very sick,’ I wrote wuz’ll...
So back I went to solitaire, my old reliable friend
and that is how challenging myself ~
brought this poem and me to an end
a blue chevy impala basks in a suburban driveway
like a beached whale it oozes gases and black oils
its seeping white walls beg for rubber movements
little boy inside the house sits on a pleated couch
he watches the setting sun through a screen door
fat mother stirs pudding in a wall-papered kitchen
smoking father works a tv guide crossword puzzle
he flicks white hot dust into a crystal glass ashtray
the corner television set transmits black and white
cathode rays of a half-naked wrestler pinned down
the destroyer with mask on lifts his victorious arms
little boy hears calliope music in the green distance
the ice cream man comes with dry ice and cologne
still three blocks away he makes another long stop
fat mother fries bloody meats in a fiery blue skillet
she turns on boss radio to hear elvis sing the blues
little boy goes to the admiral and turns the channel
bishop sheen appears in black cursing the darkness
skipper frank implores the kids to brush after meals
tennessee tuxedo chases tiger tornado to megapolis
smoking father finishes a tv guide crossword puzzle
the ice cream man arrives with dry ice and cologne
No matter when my flight is
On the day I’m flying home,
I am early to the airport,
Where I sit and write my poem…
And read my book or magazine
And grab a bite to eat
And work a crossword puzzle
‘Til it’s finally complete.
It’s not worth the anxiety
To do last minute things,
For any slight delay (like traffic),
Oh, the grief it brings!
For someone prone to panic,
Having hours to unwind
Leads to not one drop of boredom,
But a calmer frame of mind.
Relaxing in my garden chair blessedly alone,
with my cup of soothing chai and Scottish scone.
No TV, computer, iPod, kith or kin,
my crossword puzzle I shall now begin.
So, an eight-word name for a Mayan sink?
A quika--I didn't even have to think!
As the sun clears the rolling hills afar
I'm done, a crossword superstar!
My Corgi Hal licks my face in congratulations,
as the sun-lit moor beckons her invitation.
Such a simple, sweet, tranquil pleasure,
Sunday morning crosswords, my priceless treasure.
2/14/23
Doing a crossword puzzle, to be frank,
One fulfilling task of filling the blank.
It perks up the brain testing my IQ,
Doubting the depth of what I thought I knew.
It virtually takes me 'round the globe
As I fret frantically, poke and probe.
With trendy themed ones I feel like a fool;
What was I doing all those years at school?!
Some words, in the line of my expertise,
Restoring my self esteem back at ease.
Some - at the tip of my tongue - circulate,
While stubborn letters don't cooperate.
Some tough queries raise my eyebrows instead -
I turn to the last resort, internet.
I've never given up in other words,
Most meticulous among crossword nerds.
Google here and there, the word search is done,
Feeling great! Less puzzled and crossed, no pun.
February 2, 2023
Yon raging storm
Over my head
Blowing my neck is wet
With your breath
You rain down upon me
Yourself
And the sparkle in my eye
Reflection of the lightnings
Flashing through the skies
Raging storm
You're not alone
Those the stars surround you
They crossed the moon
Striking it like a crossword puzzle
tic-tac-toe emissions
Flow my head is drowning
Drenched with the mist that surrounds me
My hair is wet with every raindrop
I felt above my head is wet hair
Razing rain storm
2/13/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2022
My pencil is ready;
The boxes are bare.
I look at the clues
That are luring me there.
I always begin
With the first clue across,
Continuing on
Until I’m at a loss.
I do not despair
If a few I can’t solve
But begin on the down clues
With extra resolve.
The empty spots beckon;
They yearn to be filled
And if I’m successful
I’m quietly thrilled.
Today is the date when
We puzzlers cheer
For since 1913,
Once a day they appear.
Livia where have you been,
Only you would bring me true happiness,
Violet which our favorite flowers and the ones the world ignores,
Everyone would try to understand us,
Yet we aren’t a crossword puzzle to try,
Oh, my sister What would I do without you?
Understanding me is hard, so no one tries.
Alivia only you like to pry though my iron doors,
Love is what they call it for what you give is true,
In my heart I know I love you,
Very start I been with you for 8 years,
In the very end is where our lives will truly begin,
Always and forever is what we say, for I love you Alivia, forever and today.
-11/9/2020-
The Empty Chair
Like a single cloud on a sunny day
you knew he had you covered
a constant in an ever changing world
but now all we have is an empty chair.
Like reading a thriller with the last page missing
A joke without a punch line
or a foreign film without sub titles
its a mystery that leaves me sad and speechless
A jigsaw with a piece mislaid
A lock without a key
or a roundabout with just one exit
no rhythm no reason just why
A crossword puzzle that's incomplete
A Sudoku with the numbers all messed up
Or a word search with that word you cannot find
why oh why must we endure the conundrum of the Empty Chair.
sunday sunrise
breaking through
bay window
coffee brewing
the aroma inebriating
crossword puzzle
pencil in hand
and in the kitchen
dreamy wafts
of costa rica java
mingling with
perfumes of
strawberries
and waffles
Published in my 24-page photo/anthology ~CAFFEINE INFUSION~ 2020
AP: 3rd place 2021
This life I live in front of you is a crossword puzzle life
Blank boxes running up down as well as side to side
Fill a few in there is still so much I hide
Inside of this, my crossword puzzle life
A lot of what you see is still a mystery
Just enough I reveal to you to make you stop and think
Black and white on the outside is what I let you see
All the while a crossword puzzle life is what is hidden underneath
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