"BIRDS GATHER ON ELECTRIC LINES
KEEPING THEMSELVES WARM Terzanelle "
Those the little birds warming themselves warmth
on standing electrical and telephone lines
together side by side one by one doth---
~
The bird’s stance summer breathless leaves
adjoining, aligned, snuggle so steadily
gathering amidst buildings homes, and eaves--
~
Giant rush of big galling winds so gust
soar ever so high above skies freighting
fluttering flapping of feather wings thrust
~
leaving flying in groups from grounds gaiting
talons feet embrace lines like humans lust
every so closed close in distance like dating
~
a mixed the couples birds pairing flaring
up so high tens of feet so very high light
above the somewhat warm grounds staring
~
beaded eyes nestled small birds encasing
shares bodily heat keeps from frozen plight
winter cold so the birds warmth embracing
birds on electric lines all day and night
12/23/2023
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2023©
Terror
When I thought of the terror
Once I sat engaged and freighting
Much I marveled the splendid scare
Deep into that darkness fearing
On that day my soul grew lonely
Once upon a midnight silent
I awoke and flung the deterrence
Sore while all the while violent
Once upon a midnight silent
and its eyes have all the hushing
It was onrushing, violent, gushing!
The clap never brushing
I crave the stirring, somber sedition
There stood a voiceless nutrition
To warn me about the basal metabolic rate
In The blacken darkness riffs of hate
Deep into that darkness sing
Still is sting, still is sting
As of someone gently bring, bring
Death shall bring hallelujahs
Deep into that darkness fooling
All my soul within me grueling
As of someone gently schooling, schooling
Death shall bring acclamations
All my soul within me dueling
Engaged and freighting
Much I marveled the splendid scare
Deep into that darkness fearing
On that day my soul grew lonely
Once upon a midnight silent
I awoke and flung the deterrence
scary-Terror
3/22/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2022©
MOM
Mom is for helping you into your seat and helping you out of tall trees
Mom is for bumps, bruises and scratches on your knees
Mom is for cooking meatloaf, corn and mashed potatoes
Mom is for helping you with a word that nobody knows
Mom is for kittens, puppies, hermit crabs and fish
Mom is for calming you down when homework is due and it’s already ninish
Mom is for artwork, carburetors and giving hugs when you really need one
Mom is for emergencies and sewing buttons back on
Mom is for helping to make the hardest decisions
Mom is for finding peace in the most freighting conditions
Mom is for very important things, like finding a lovely wife
Mom is even more important for learning how to love one’s life
5/16/2014
Dedicated to those that live in a railroad town.
Moving metal monstrosities
Speed along rusty, rhythmic rails
freighting needed necessities
onward, toward forthcoming sales.
Its cacophonous, blaring horn
Sounding each town intersection
with intolerable forewarned
early morning interruptions:
Two long, one short, one long, racket.
Please locomotive engineer
shorten your intervals a bit
so those of us who live anear
can get a good nights sleep; instead
of noises that startle the dead.
Van Gogh’s ear sings tales all night
Soulful moaning over mind’s eye sight
Antagonize the heart and turn the eye
A visitor to the heart or passing by
From this spring that we all drink
What whispers all the thoughts we think
Lunatic genius with eyes turned in
Tell me where my mind has been
A freighting tether is shelter and cage
Where the writer’s pen touches page
Ink’s fossil trail bleeding from my pen
A history of where my heart has been
To go and not say in doing so
Beyond this point no words can go
With feet of clay and hand to chalk
I’ve come to hear Van Gogh’s ear talk
Shadow lines all around…
Above you, below you,
shadows cast by buildings,
people, animals, plants
trees and lots more...
The only shadow lines
that are freighting are
those cast by things…
You cannot see, for when
you turn to look, nothing
is there to make them…
Shadow ghost that is what
I call them, “Shadow Ghost”…
Do you see them as well as me?
By Sandra L. Hoban
©2004
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.