Hefty lefty lever trademark arc
Bazball achiever didn't embark
Whooping hooping looping shark
Hark that howling hallmark bark
Whizzing tizzing fizzing spark
Disembark batters off the park
Stoking smoking poking lark
Scary lairy fairy benchmark
Another sarky snark remark
In-jagger ragger dagger stark
Mighty Blighty's lights gone dark
Stagger..swagger malarkey of STARC!
Written: February 13, 2023
____________________________________________
An anathema for,
pilose nettle burns,
an art form of unstable feathers,
tropes across the ivory cuticles.
Melted mascarpone in a figurine,
pearlescent obsidian,
hooping sapped spirit,
sight of the blue sky.
within her boneless flesh,
the artist grumbles severely,
in a strained, velvety voice,
jumping into the air.
Prima picture goes away,
with feeble equine acclaim,
the nest of the forlorn swan,
embracing an ethereal dawn.
Whimsical soprano,
barely etched in matte black,
diploid remains,
a flawless fleck of fascinating fright.
Rakish Requiem for an,
unrequited magnum opus,
rushing on pinewood stains,
on the cusp of collapse.
As she droops on the ladder,
the impresario draws the
opera curtains closer,
while soothing music,
numbs her toes.
When Requiem strolls,
across the stage to the tune of
Mozart pianissimo,
he manages to pull off,
fulfills a task with accuracy.
2nd place contest winner
captivating winter child
outside playing gyrating
spinning and twirling hula hoopings
vibrated so much landed on the roof
plastic ring slowly falls down
until the ground
~
the little girl
still dancing, jumping up and down
little girl on the outside full of joy
bye and bye
she hula hooping outside
in the winter time
2/12/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2024
Chain rhyming scheme: aaba bbcb ccdc dddd
Iambic tetrameter: da-DUM-da-DUM-da-DUM-da-DUM
And Yet, Another
An errant wind ran dead in spring
lost lives chilling ain't no big thing
saints live across where river parts
just love of life freedom does bring
no spades facing just ace of hearts
a bro bought smokes payment imparts
store clerk alleged fake bill, and drunk
nine-one-one called, by fits and starts
flashlight taps car glass, clunk, then clunk
show hands gun drawn obeys, blue funk
from hooping his mouth foamed, not crazed
begs mom, as three pressed, his heart sunk
ignored pleas, time and time, sets phased
swarmed crowds sadly look on amazed
stagnant with no pulse, warning raised
shocked city and country soon fazed.
2021 April 12
I shall never see the world as it used to be
In my dream it was 1960 I could fondly see
I could see mom blowing smoke at our faces
Dad spouting bad remarks about certain races
I was there at the table waiting for the bomb
As remembered just an unfulfilled alarm
It was summer when the fun never ends
I was having fun with hula hooping friends
Listening to Chubby and acting double bubbly
My sister and friend were getting kind of cuddly
Young for New York, where the people are so gay
I was dancing in my room, twisting the night away
I saw women in town as dolled up as they could get
And my mom going hep to hip with never a sweat
I saw a married man who I knew would often stray
I heard he tortured his wife when it was other way
I saw proud women, housewives doing their job
Men I remember getting killed belonged to the mob
I could see it was a year, long gone, when men ruled
If you don’t think they still do, you have been fooled
There is a lovely fellow;
a joyous sight to see.
A personality that’s quite mellow;
he swims space easily.
He travels many light years;
dancing in and out through time.
His song in my ears brings the tears;
Sometimes for him, I pine.
In my glass eye, I watch him;
jogging throughout in space.
His varied hula-hooping rims;
his rotund belly grace.
Looking like a toy, in that distant place;
he’s quite a dapper fellow, with a precious face.
How can I explain my love for you
When I’m judging you
Afraid of every subject
You bring to my attention
Things on your vision board
Gained your intuition
You’re intuitive I’m a pessimistic
We both God’s students I’m Muslim
You Christian
Who gives a
Chuck Taylor ties like I’m hooping
But I’m just tired of falling for old games
I seen girls 3 times bad as you like the blue print
But I’m use to holding in
But this seems like I’m folding a letter with date on it
Chinese fold
Then it’s a bomb away
Throwing shots to your direction
We older it’s a section
If I die tomorrow let’s make kids our complexion
I was one year after 5 during 9/11
I get nervous and disguise the weather
And it means nothing but you ask God why are we catching
So many feelings when we don’t even how long we here
At the moment bring closer to your ears
I whispered that I love you and the butterflies reappear
I once stopped and got paint brushes from sears
If you are going to attempt a waltz in a spotty teapot costume complete with a lid then do remember not to partake in tea drinking beforehand because the liquid might ruin the material and thus render the authenticity of the costume. People then would not quite believe that the waltz was going to be preformed by a tea pot for the fabric would be unsuitable to maintain an act. Acts admirably administer admirable and administrative actions. And a duty bound club of a chosen cup formation is now passing down the streets of the towns to clink and wave their handles at passers-by. And passers-by are neither Portarlington polestars pulsating, pink pine poles picking pogos. And neither are they decagonal in diameter. Disc like then. Good. Spin spin spin. Great. An electrical elephant prancing in a printed gown with a pointy hat. A peanut is very very inebriated and fell off a cushion. Left angled mirror equals four wheels driving to a dunk. Xxxxx authentication z z znz at thirty six hollering hula hooping hummus humps to twenty one beef cutlets in tight trousers. Z
Stresses in dresses are not wanting streams today they are wanting to watch a film where animals sing. It is great to know that a aqueous solution of a pickled onion jar is clever when unsealed and unsealed is neither a shark in a tank top, an exploding rhino suit, a gas game of monologues, a circumference of a chasm in a chapel chat, nor is it a notable noticed nothing. It is with reading glasses that a sewing pattern forms shapes and within shapes the hour glass chimes a pretty note and the citation from a chandelier competes always and only with a field of candelabras'. Radiographic radiuses' reaching radiant releases. And a dome in a dolmen is a chamber of commerce in a wheel. Spinning. Fantastic isn't it? Free forming synchronisation of seventy frogs hopping and hooping and hoping that an ordered meal will arrive soon in the basket bead. Ha the tail of a duck is extended down the canal and the boats trip over. Ha the capsized mirrored eels delivering the droppings of a giant metal pie. Pie of thought is slicing. Not sluicing. Slicing. And a little ant travelling carefully over the rocky tor. Xxxxxx intercorrellated z z z z z at a point to a pin and a pin to a paintpot. Z
where do I set my bags
I believe I am dizzy from all this jet lag
passed through gas like smoke coming out of a train
I need a chair to sit down I may go insane
pass out from all the exposure of this transition
crossing the Pacific Ocean misting
clouds puffing around mountains
back up I am dizzy again did I see a clown and
a man hula hooping across a farm
no let me get together I am too paranoid
from all this sea motion
I am experiencing dysfunctional balances
bar tending soaking
Will a Mai Tai help?
is that all you are drinking
well I may as well and enjoy myself
because when take off after this vacation
I will have nothing left
especially to complain about
here we come beach side surfing zip lining
flies in my mouth
I am ready for this week
i am socially satisfied it is time to eat
pineapples coconuts with straws
while I run under a palm tree with sticky leaves
Hawaii I have come to thee
to enjoy and raise much noise
I left the kids an I am all yous
I started hooping like a bunny,
Carrying my big chocolate egg,
But thought it could be funny
To hop while using just one leg,
I saw thru the window’s frame
A cuckoo bird on the ground.
She and I were doing the same,
So I imitated the cuckoo’s sound.
She was curious and I was too:
Did the bird understand my coo?
Or she only wanted to protest:
“Put back this egg on the nest!”
So I undid the egg’s blue lace:
“Would you do too in my place?”
Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo
A mother holds her first born son
Life and love become one
Two hands holding firm
When apart he shakes and squirms
The cure of a mothers voice
Erases any other noise
Warmth and warmth together
Combining their hearts forever
A mother and her first born son
Three years later 2+1
Two young boys in her arms
Some would say her two little lucky charms
Three hands holding firm
When apart only one shakes and squirms
Together they grow as a family
It started before they were standing
A mother in between two big boys
Grabbing the belt is a mothers only other choice
But boys don't cry they take their licks
Except when mother decides to grab a big ole switch
Hooping and hollering
The two boys rant and cry
But at the end of the day
She tells them everythings all right
For a mother with two young sons
A mothers work never seems to be done
Cooking, Cleaning and dressing
To a mother these things are a blessing
A blessing full of curses indeed
If your a mother you know what I mean
Motherhood at it's very best
Raising two boys is a mothers ultimate test
My name is Mr. Moore,
And I’m 5’2”.
If you’re a young a black male,
I care about you.
I am the father of two daughters,
And the husband of one.
I believe in running,
Until the race is done.
I appreciate music,
I appreciate it much.
I am a drummer,
With a distinct touch.
I enjoy the sound of a saxophone,
And if you mention Jesus Christ,
IT’S ON.
I play both drums,
And sax by ear.
I can play the rhythmic notes,
If they are near.
I like counting money,
Because I’m crazy about math.
I have a little "hooping" skills,
So don’t get in my path.
I had coached for five years,
Being champs of the final three.
Was put out at the buzzer,
The first two were defeats.
I had been with “The Academy”,
For eight years now.
“Tricks of the Trade”,
Was about showing young men how.
I am unique,
And like a little rhythm.
That is why I wrote,
“My Bio” to be a poem.
My name is Mr. Moore,
And I’m 5’2”.
If you’re a young a black male,
I care about you.
I am the father of two daughters,
And the husband of one.
I believe in running,
Until the race is done.
I appreciate music,
I appreciate it much.
I am a drummer,
With a distinct touch.
I enjoy the sound of a saxophone,
And if you mention Jesus Christ,
IT’S ON.
I play both drums,
And sax by ear.
I can play the rhythmic notes,
If they are near.
I like counting money,
Because I’m crazy about math.
I have a little "hooping" skills,
So don’t get in my path.
I had coached for five years,
Being champs of the final three.
Was put out at the buzzer,
The first two were defeats.
I had been with “The Academy”,
For eight years now.
“Tricks of the Trade”,
Was about showing young men how.
I am unique,
And like a little rhythm.
That is why I wrote,
“My Bio” to be a poem.
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