Ditching Poems

Mayday Comes From French

M'aider … Mayday, comes from French,
that word, with fright, I radio,
my engine dead, this nighttime glide,
vast sky and ocean black as ink,
waves rising, lapping, leaping up
until the splash, wings ditching in,
a frantic swim, inflating raft,
my sea-soaked struggle to climb in
then drift and bob through endless dark,
despair and chill a numbing pair
while drooping, dozing, nodding off …
then through his succor of weak sleep,
the sea's east edge grew limned with white
and stars lost vigor in dull sky,
its gray, faint light caressing him;
he gasped and jolted, jumped awake,
aware hope rises with pale glow,
that pastel-pink renews all life
and rescue, soon, will be at hand!

Labour part 5

The  fox quakes with delight
Means testing winter fuel
what a future precedent
Already ditching the social care plan
They say they have a black spending hole
so spending must abate for a while
Tax your January private schools
and who else
They ride roughshod over the old
tax forms for the lot
They collect monies 
you've never read about
like inheritance tax

A Pep Talk for Poets

Let the dog out
who needs its opinion?

Let’s talk editing,
start with the first line -
no,
start at the first word,
the human mind is not equipped,
to produce brilliant ‘first words.'

Consider ditching,
a few exuberant adjectives,
if not controlled they will breed.

Imagine you only have
$5 of original things to say,
be economical,
or the poem may well be
under-valued.

Run it through a spell check – twice.
Send it out upon the internet,
with a light heart.

Wait patiently,
if nobody responds
it might be for the best.

Remember,

your dog still loves you.

I Dream -

I dream of heaven in my sleep 
For long, I've cherished far and deep 
A world without detestation 
But peace and reconciliation 

I dream that I got wings to fly 
So I could soar to touch the sky 
And tell the whole world down below 
That all of us were meant to glow 

I dream that I got ship to sail 
So I could cruise on a grand scale 
And tell each and every nation 
That giving love is our vocation

I dream of mind as sharp as blade
So I could write in shapes and shades
I'll write wonders for world to see 
That ditching hate is being free 

I dream poetry contest 
3rd place

The Back Burner

If there’s one thing I excel at,
(I am really quite a pro)
It is using the back burner,
Which, in case you didn’t know

Means procrastination, baby!
Putting things off for so long
I forget I meant to do them,
Which I guess is kind of wrong.

Still, I do deserve some credit -
The ideas are all my own:
Swapping couches for replacements 
Or an upgrade for my phone,

Sprucing shelves up in the kitchen,
Ditching clothes that I don’t wear,
Having floors both stained and sanded,
Planning trips to who-knows-where.

Once I pounce upon a project,
I do research so I know
All the people I must contact 
So I’ll be all set to go.

You’d think gathering the info
Would present the hardest part,
But for pros like me, that’s nothing -
What we cannot do is START!

Edit Edit Edit

Start with the first line -
no,
start at the first word;
the human brain is not equipped
to produce brilliant ‘first words.’
Consider ditching it
and its associated adjectives,
trust me there will be adjectives,
if not controlled
they will breed like rabbits.

Imagine you only have
$5 of original things to say,
be economical, for if you overspend
the poem may go bankrupt before the end.

Run it through a spell check – twice.
Send it out upon the internet
with a light heart.

Some poets will already know 
what will happen next –


          crickets.

Alphabetical Love

Anecdotes all arousing my head
breathless begging to be your best
carefully caressing your caramel skin
ditching the deep ditches of dolor
enveloping the ever-present eerie aura
faithfully faking the smile on my face
glamorizing the greatness of giving
helping the halos of doubt in my head
idolizing your individuality and independence
joking about jumbled thoughts creating a jittery feeling
kites of your kindness kindling a wind
loving every little thing you do
memorizing the many lines on your memorable face
not caring about nefarious nettles that pierce me
ornating odysseys of our past
picturing a perfect picture of us play 
questioning why I ever had quixotic questions
rising ricochets of rampant tears
setting sails of the ship of our love
touching thoughts twisting in the air
utilizing every unexpected moment we have together
vacillating the value of valor
wandering eyes over the warm waters of your eyes
xenial relationships and the feel of your xilinous skin
yearning for the youngblood of yesterday
zoning into zeniths of zeal

Doors of Progress For Jim

You can’t kill nor hurt Jim
For Angels are singing his hymn
Only risking a filling to the brim
The Fatal Cup that would your own life trim.

You can neither silence him;
I have this discussed with Athletic Kim,
Who the same thing said like Tim
And cherishes him more than a gym.

Of course, you can’t intimidate him:
Luckily, he is not at all slim
His alert eyes shiny, not dim
And can see through a whim …

They had all these tried cleverly, 
Enemies’ ditching attacks heavily
But what in the end happened?

Doors of progress still opened!

A New Start For America

Out with infighting and lack of general respect,
Let’s restore our Congressional reputation
Rank partisanship and grandstanding
While padding their own coffers, I expect!

Let’s rid ourselves of all the current trolls
“Let’s throw the bums out,” it has been said,
Not a one of them worth saving, I suspect.
Better off with zombies at the controls.

Let’s start by ditching Mitch; Pelosi, too,
Right down to the bottom of the barrel
Grifters, the shysters, and arrogant fools
Send McCarthy and Schumer to Timbuktu.

Greene, and Gaetz, and dummy Gohmert
Publicity hounds and holier-than-thous
Let’s start with a clean slate this year
Out with Cruz, Cotton, and Lauren Boebert.

Repubs and Dems—all those fat cats alike,
We need to start with a clean slate now
Hire those who will make government run
Let’s tell Madison Cawthorn to take a hike.

All of them! – I’ve just named a very few
But I can’t think of a single one I’d keep,
Clear out the entire House and the Senate
We need to clean up this despicable zoo! 

HONORABLE MENTION
"Religion or Politics No. 7" Poetry Contest
All Poetry.com
April 24, 2022
Written April 9, 2022

Plots

Some old movie plots
can't happen now, with changes
in technology...

You know, in a movie
when someone texts everyone
at school by* mistake*?

Who has *EVERYONE*
at school on their contacts list? 
No way that happens.

Parent-less parties
where scores show up - with modern
*surveillance systems*?

or ditching class, heck
my parents are texted my
quiz scores real-time.

"why'd you get an 88
on that Calculus test, I
thought you studied?" Argh!

Polishing a Poem

Let the dog out
who needs his opinion?
You’re going to need elbow room.

Let’s talk editing,
start with the first line -
no,
start at the first word;
the human mind is not equipped
to produce brilliant ‘first words’.
Consider ditching it
and its associated adjectives,
trust me there will be adjectives,
if not controlled
they will breed.

Polish with an abrasive scrutiny.
Imagine you only have
$5 of original things to say,
be economical for if you overspend
the poem may have to be
de-loused for cliché’s.

Add polish –
mix with sweat, piss, and vinegar,
scrub but not too much,
smooth and slick makes for bland poetry.

Run it through a spell check – twice.
Send it out upon the internet
with a light heart.

Some poets will already know all this
but sadly
many will not.

Git Thee Behind Me Satan-

GIT THEE BEHIND ME SATAN-
All my soul within me pitching
Git thee behind me Satan
All my soul within me ditching
Only this and a shepherdess
Much I not marveled the mystic exorcist
Git thee behind me Satan
My mind always strays to enchanters

Much I not marveled this splendid priestess
I discovered the alchemists
And its eyes have all the witching
Git thee behind me Satan

The whipsaw witchery whipsawing 
And so I screamed, 'Is that a theologian?'
Enchantress - enchantress - enchantress!
Suddenly, I heard some magicking
God forbid
The occult smiled

God and I proclaim...Git thee behind me Satan
Demons cries and flees
Gods children and angels singing
Git thee behind me Satan

8/9/20
written word by James Edward Lee Sr. 2020 ©

A B C D E F G Etcetera

Awful avocados always
Breathe bitter blue breaths
Craving cardinal’s Christmas carols
Ditching deliberate dungarees during
Elusive extraterrestrial escapades.
Forsaking fitful Floridian flamingos,
Getting gaudy, gratuitous gnarly gifts,
Herewith having hilarious hefty hallucinations,
Imagining India’s illustrious indigo ideologies.
Jackals jerry-rigging jealous junking jackalopes
Kangaroos kissing kindly, 
Lamenting lovebirds likely leering 
Meandering muddobbers making merry,
Nevertheless necessary negotiations 
Ostentatiously overhauling orange ostriches
Private parties practically prancing,
Quiet questions quickly questioning
Ripe red russets revolving rapidly
Sensing secretive shadows shyly
Traveling through trickier times, 
Underlings ultimately understanding
Variegated virgins vitality
Waxing willfulness whilst
‘xacting ‘xtra ‘xciting
Yarned yellow youthfulness yipping young
Zesty zipper zings zealously, zapping zebras.

Ultimate Realization

The sky has became heavy with a lot of pain
Moaning and roaring in acute misery
Peace of mind has gone and
Night becomes nightmare
Again and again.
Remembering the sweet melody of your voice
My heart and soul has broken into pieces;  
It's overwhelmed in gloom and
It makes listless my 
Room.
I did not realized how loving you are
When you had with me there.
How many curse and pain you had to bear
And how much dropping of the 
Tears.
Now I can realize 
That breaks my wings and I can't fly
Which sharply ditching my heart and soul
The memory of 
Thy. 
You shall remain in my heart 
With acute pain………. 
Be happy where there you are 
In.

Blues In Bling Or Ring

Bootlicking
In a bid from noxious lives to curry favour
Invites worse kicking
In each endeavour 
 
You undertake
Leaving your soul drained and empty
As you stake
Your future into Humpty Dumpty

Expecting the best
Reaping a whirlwind
In a messed test
With a frailty fiend

Until from sentiment slumber you snap
Into the valley of hope
Ditching the trap
On the sliding insanity slope

Where convoluted conclusions
You draw
Assuming seasons and prisons of delusions and illusions
Into your life deserve to crawl

But better outcomes you deserve
Precious life, detract
From the despair you preserve  
As in your mind and soul attract

Vipers
Who in the main to you mean nothing
Positive or receptive as sentiment snipers
Into your limpid life bring only blues-in bling or ring.

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