Every day we are ushered as the school bells peal
To inaugurate the start of the next school day’s zeal
Everyday we pledge allegiance to our flag
And to our nation, and to our God we appeal
There is teaching and learning going on
As the custodian passes by each class
Removing black marks from the hallway floors
Cleaning finger smudges from the glass
He knows the goings-on and those coming and those going
He knows what to do in the heat and after every snowing
He is the surveyllerist and purveyor of them
He’s behind the scenes to keep the school year rolling
As soon as the school year starts, there is a period at the end of the sentence
And the adventure of summer cleaning commences
And the kenopsia of a school vacated
Eerily all cries and sighs and laughter as echoes have faded
Don't know if I've ever told you before
But I'm the creative director
Of our cool little community newspaper
It's quite the people connector
It's all about events and the 'goings on'
That interest the local folks
But I'm not averse to lighting things up
With an abundance of silly jokes
Keeps me out of damn mischief each day
Instead of walking the streets
Scaring the little old ladies half to death
Offering them goodies and sweets
Guess I sound like a lecherous old man
But I do get lonely at times
That's when wifey chains me to the porch
But I'm a sweet old loveable kind!
So it's finally out, now you guys can see
When not concocting silly rhymes
Try hard to find ways to amuse myself
Till wifey calls me in at nine!
From in our homes, we view the world
Through windows which reveal
The goings-on around us, which
Affects the way we feel.
The wealthy, in their mansions,
May see mountains or the sea,
Which so many of us think is where
We’d also like to be.
While lots of folk may gaze outside
At scenes of homes and trees,
The sight of which brings comfort,
Worthy of their landscape fees.
The urban dwellers’ windows,
Sometimes from a dazzling height,
Show the bustle of the city,
Which may offer much delight.
For the poorer ones among us,
If they have a view at all,
It may reinforce their sadness,
Staring at a shaft or wall.
Still, by gazing out the windows
That our home accommodates,
We can dream about what’s out there
And what future life awaits.
Every November it happens.
I see diaries on display.
The lightbulb moment, I'm inspired!
I must keep a journal every day.
Every January starts off well.
In keeping a promise to myself,
I faithfully pen the goings on each day.
It's apparently good for your health.
February is often quite patchy.
Many a day goes a miss!
I start to question why, each annum,
I spend to fail at this...
One day runs into another.
It's mid September now!
It feels like only in a blink
Six months have passed - holy cow!
I start to reason on why it bothers me
That I can't look back on what's gone on.
It's about now I say, " If I get another
I'll keep my own promise to write on! "
I suppose it could be apathy.
" I can't be bothered " type of mood.
What's the point in writing trivia
- This conversation or that food?
So last year I decided once and for all
That keeping a journal is not for me.
If I've something I really want to express
I'll wax lyrical with poetry!
Written 11th September 2021
For - The "J" Contest... Sponsor Constance La France
Worried are the dreams of the phyllite degrees
Goings on are those severed screams
Fashion are the promises
Mouths and hearts covered with harness
Demons have received
Humanity minds reframe
Mind games?
4/27/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2021©
Spooky rustling in the night
In the corner on my right
Could be this or could be that
Not certain it’s the cat
Awake for so many hours
Diving under bed sheet cowers
Last night woke with a start
Watched light speck about me dart
“Strange goings on, you are sad,
imaginings” said my dad
Sudden awake, hear name call
See-through ghost against the wall
Shaking, “who are you” I said
“I’m from the house of the dead”
2/23/21
What are the particulars
What are the circumstances
How do they add up
Can you fathom goings-on
Can you tolerate the tragedies
What are the circumstances how do they tally
In and out of realities
Can you tolerate the tragedies
The times that presently past
in and out of reality
Can you fathom the goings-on
The times that presently past
What are the particulars reality time streams
1/11/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2021
Always together 24/7
Isn’t this bliss?
Isn’t this heaven?
A lot to share and care
And, at times, bare
What’s missing is
The attitude of dare
Now, you would wonder
Why and what to dare?
After all we make
Such a perfect pair
Well, dear reader
There’s a slight problem here
We are ‘virtually’ one soul
In two bodies
Enough to please
Anyone so much in love
Like the two of us
However, the oozing love
Needs to be controlled
Tomorrow’s plans
To be put on hold
The ‘extra’ in the ‘relationship’
Is the slight blip
In the smooth goings-on
The endless wait
For a new dawn
It’s someone else
Who can our future
Make or mar
A classic case of
So near, yet so far.
The country's crazy, out of whack somehow
There's a new 'Republic' in Seattle now
Young folks are calling to defund police
A fury in the streets that will not cease...
They scream their slogans, every day the same
For 'racial justice,' -- it's an age-old game
'Cos no one really thinks that things will change
Most voters find the goings-on quite strange
America the Beautiful's long dead and gone
Sure seems the leaders guessed completely wrong
They watched as cities festered, crime increased
So many murders, little kids deceased...
Our cities smolder as the hurt returns
The people on the bottom still get burned
Iambic Pentameter
Couplet-style Rhyme
10 DOWNING STREET
Six years ago on 10 Downing Street,
Tourists by the score we did meet,
Fascinated by the pomp and splendor
England’s Political leader, in his famous home,
Safe from the crowds, having tea
A discreet meeting at
This Historical house,
Trumpets, guards, I didn’t care
About a sign that said “Beware,
Horses may kick or bite”,
I stroked his nose in spite,
Of the sign,
This horse was adorable, a fine
Regal animal who sniffed my hand,
I felt honored, so grand,
Not about the goings on around me,
But that the horse and I connected,
I immediately loved him, infatuated!
Thank You said the sign at the end,
All I knew I found a life long friend.
I have never forgotten that horse
I let love take it’s sad course,
And had to say goodbye,
But she maybe he and I,
Would remember
That day in September,
Where among the pomp and splendor,
A horse and human secretly bonded,
Despite a sign, written boldly, a warning,
Not to go near,
But I showed no fear,
The absolute highlight of our holiday,
Despite a slight drizzle and a grey
Sky it was my
Moment, my horse!
yes
it's the
same oldt
not a problem
something ridiculous
a meaning for nothing
screaming out hey man relax
no reason to rush and be early
life keeps moving at its own speed
we're just here to go along for the ride
to make what we will of scenery passing by
and establish a mechanical understanding of life
so we may see it for what it means is just dimension
but not complete as a picture of the goings on around us
requiring only memory to make sense of it all as best we can
of this shakespearean play that appears mainly in sign language
because there are at least two different plots for audience distraction
and i can't randomly keep up with the popcorning shapes called this reality
so my life is as analog to parallel and understand the happenings as music......
stan sand
'Tis said that Mercury is in retrograde.
Is it just an astrophysical charade —
An illusory cosmic joke being played?
Is the wee beggar's energy bill unpaid?
Give me
A quiet camp
In a remote national park
Any day
Over a caravan park
Where the snakes
Bake quietly
And roo's abound
Fleeting qlimpse'es
Of things between the gums
And dingos howl
From across the other ridge
With the setting sun
Give me
A quiet camp
Out where
Bushman still roam
They stand tall
On a low hill
And watch
The goings on
Give me
A quiet camp
Where the silence
And cicadas
Are deafening
The stars
Shine brighter
Than any street lamp
Give me
A quiet camp
Where theres
No rubbish lying about
And white toilet paper
Dots the ground
Give me
A quiet camp
Where theres
No people around
And i will show you
The bush
Where animals abound
Give me
A quiet camp
Out where the roustabouts
Made a push
Near where
The dead men lie
And the pioneers
They still whisper
On the wind
Give me
A quiet camp
So i can
Lay my head down
You’re Secret is Safe
Written: by Tom Wright
February 2015
None know the secrets of our Grandfather clock
It stands mostly quiet, in its niche,
In our great room;
As if camouflaged, it observes all goings on,
While eavesdropping on every conversation;
It never betrays any secrets, and most times,
Won’t give you the time of day,
And be truthful about it.
The excitement's overwhelming
From daylight until dawn
Kissing but not telling
At all the goings-on
As we put our hands together
Then pull our hands apart
Defying Gravity
The crowd is on their feet
Imagine if you can the scene
Then add an extra scream
As we put our hands together
Then pull our hands apart
It's like a three-ring circus
Without the scary clowns
I'm told that they won't hurt us
But still don't like them around
As we put our hands together
Then pull our hands apart
The politician is center stage
Promising free rounds
To change our minds is it too late
Could you send back in the clowns
As we put our hands together
Then pull our hands apart
We're clapping cause they're clapping
They're clapping cause we are
Talk about your crowd control
Is that now where we are
As we put our hands together
Then pull our hands apart
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