could you favor a jaunt with his tiddley ? never ! he is not for me .
(Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • September 7–13, 2026)
Ore occlusion occident.
Zephyrus blue pshent.
Ichor wicker nicker sent.
Bent to leave a dent.
Chaotic code core commode.
Resonant red road.
Cackling crest cockerel crowed.
Roundabout reload.
Serendipity sprite see.
Toll trill tympani.
Yucca yawndrift yellow ye.
Xiphoid xylem xi.
Ravine ricochet relay.
Dread dead dawning day.
Alabaster planchette play.
Houses holy hay.
Fricasee flock frailty fold.
Broken bow old gold.
Baneful bell blossoming bold.
Cross child city cold.
Heliosphere haunt gaunt jaunt.
Grimace gore gauntlet.
Warlock whippoorwill weird want.
Blackening blind bet.
Psychology psychopomp.
Cheer career severe.
Dervish whirling stump sump stomp.
Pump it out of here.
Watch white wailing widow.
Frequency freak mystique.
Nuclear fine fission glow.
Tan the table teak.
Papa bear, no longer there?
Who are you? This can't be true.
Gone are you smiles, our distance is miles
Poor Vinnie wants peace, but you dance to the beast
Greed is you shame, wish we did not share a name
The dad I once loved, to be held to be hugged
Your motives are clear, but grandads still here
Much to your angst, oh just piss off to France!
Leave him to me, we'll be fine him and me
Long live the king, I won't let you win
Go off on your jaunt, but know this will haunt...
Lost your only flesh, now as for the rest
Don't know how you sleep at night, what you've done isn't right
But God is swift these days, you'll get karma for your ways
Julie too, crocodile tears are moot
You can both whistle, she's prickly as a thistle
Me and mine are just fine, going alone in our prime
Soundings' most heartfelt streamlet
That voiced of you.
For its spell's long- held impact
Dreams flow into!
Beneath its own coverlet
Of a soft mist
Can one conceive, plashed twilights
On a late jaunt
What, a sleep-sent dell, to haunt
Must so persist.
autumn call to fall
amidst the smilecool winter
paramount cool jaunt
11/15/25
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2025
O mist, thy dawn of chaos.
O morning, discord's dew.
Flame creation, take per os!
Belladonna blue...
Rhythm, rhyme, and riddle.
The griddle pipes with heat.
No use, second fiddle!
The middle? Tasting sweet!
Forever, last a moment.
Rebellion, foment fast.
Wicker man, fire, thy lament.
Nickering mare, spell cast.
Blast off, O my intellect!
Bubble in my veins!
Golem, shall we genuflect?
Someone, take the reins.
Well, vulgarity. Disgrace.
Doubt, dismay, displace.
Time, thy shadow. Joint, thy case.
Jaunt and jig-jag, jayce.
Poison, pour. O pen mine, soar.
Two-faced god, guard door.
O for golfers yelling fore!
Grim the gauntlet gore!
Yellow queen, thanks. Generals, thy tanks.
Prisoners, shiv. Shanks.
Financiers, from the banks!
Red the rumbling ranks...
Tympani, burst. Ocean, thy thirst.
Racer, get there first.
O for warriors a-worst!
Crazy are the cursed...
That folded barrio flour,
Candor candied blemish
Was found
Beside my times
Nestled curtsey
Pliant blush
Confi, confetti
Tower piza tall
Ballerina repose throw rugs
Of roja fiends
The upright ends alone
You know you got
Just what it takes
The stairway from I do
Baby you lost
What I take
There in wait
I am planned forwards
Rest of mind, escapes in days
Mare on jaunt
Fred nostaire?
Parent hatred and fair
Whims and spotlighting darkness
A posting flyer of despair beautifully written
Collide in hides
Invites and excentric
Repulsive conversion of meeting place
School ties and community bland
For three hours, I wait.
Is patient the word?
A friendly face, too soon?
Still, when your old
you have no time
for particulars, need to tell
your story to who will listen;
and walk miles and miles
of aisles in the dollar store
where your friend
never goes; and you tell
her about the rose;
and eventually
Mary and Martha meet,
having never crossed paths
before, and
probably nevermore this side
of heaven; and
the painstaking path
has been blocked.
For three hours I wait
to retreat, as
my husband texts me -
I mean I’m not that far away,
yet, time seems to travel.
Now, I’m quite familiar
with the products sold.
I bought a plastic box
(for a wig I used for my sister’s party);
a yellow, smiley face neck pillow,
nail wraps and nonpareils.
The jaunt of longsuffering,
surely was worth my time;
I survived. This was merely
the end of a very long day.
I’ll not bore you
with the unusual beginning.
Back home, I stuffed my face
and watched a show with my
husband. It was after seven.
I will see all of this reel as a real blessing
and be glad I didn’t stand anyone up.
A jaunt into the mouth of feral woods
to grow the most intimate connection.
Eldritch whispers through the trees,
let’s scare the boys with our smile.
To grow the most intimate connection,
fall upon the sword of a diamond mess.
Let’s scare the boys with our smile,
cat-calling and out of control tweaking.
Fall upon the sword of a diamond mess,
crystals just sparkle brighter broken.
Cat-calling and out of control tweaking,
this will be an hour to remember.
Crystals just sparkle brighter broken,
imperfection magnifies the prism.
This will be an hour to remember,
buckle up and get ready to ride.
Imperfection magnifies the prism,
eldritch whispers through the trees.
Buckle up and get ready to ride,
a jaunt into the mouth of feral woods.
jealous of
a morning walk
pleasantries
underneath
sun- rise and set
jealous of
painlessness
yet muscle
ache
oh i’d take
jealous of
going, going,
gone
out all day
pulling
my weight
jealous of
watching
so effortlessly
the jaunt
of travelers
jealous for
the blessings
given
for all these years
I’ll hope for fix
so others jealously will watch
me effortlessly with my slow gait
i’d settle for mostly pain free
i’d jump for joy but carefully
Inspired by Christian Schaffer’s YouTube travel videos
Rolling fogs and crashing waves
Add to memories one saves
Kissy breeze upon your face
Rumbling vibes, no home base
Raindrops on the pane’s glass
Colored clouds moving mass
Mesh of moss imperfect blotch
Tallest trees eternal watch
Morning coffee, sunrise rays
Distant mountains in haze
Wide blue sky is van’s marquee
Things unspoken, set them free
Introspection, open eyes
Thoughts exposed mighty wise
World’s unspoiled rare scenes
Walk that beach in torn blue jeans
Ashen peaks in silent chants
Winter wind incessant rants
Lakes of green reflecting light
Forest creaking through the night
Swaying grass, the rustling sound
Fair maidens' heart unbound
Places shown, not betrayed
Road, alone, unafraid
Charming smile reflecting lens
At the end it all makes sense
Watch, imbibe, accept and jaunt
Wanderlust is what you want
April 6, 2024
She'll be the queen of my decrepit ridgeline,
Her crown, heavy with my wasted want.
Never knows best, a fault of design.
Her tensions a dagger, a cunning divine,
A soul-bleeder, god as a vaunt.
She'll be the queen of my decrepit ridgeline.
The arson of anger will never confine,
For the plaid that’s been woven, I a gaunt
Never knows best, a fault of design.
I check the guest list for a name I can’t find,
A ghost of a promise, a lingering taunt.
She'll be the queen of my decrepit ridgeline.
I hate sour drinks, but I chug it all in time—
A golden apple; a jaunt.
Never knows best, a fault in design.
As the season passes, with its cruel incline,
I swallow one more time; her shadows daunt.
She'll be the queen of my decrepit ridgeline,
But never knows best, a faulty design.
Florid banshees recoiled, neck and hankering sneer.
A succinctly exuberant suggestion when selective.
Came on, fell flat with laconic ornamentation.
A miniature jaunt, interment; glove comparted.
Pin-striped foxtails attuned tune maddening clairvoyants.
Precisely predisposed, wine-flavored latten tobaccos.
A wooden-tipped juxtaposition, stilling waisted.
Bygone midge nonguarded, slunk olive drabbing on bayou.
Thicken handkerchief lightly dabbing brow.
Darkness entrapment, fiat practice gymnastics.
Money management, coinage magnet, honored in mathematics.
Backflipping,
Backtracking,
Backpacking.
Super-Soaker moisture, quickie; quickly, socks on prickly.
Sloped incline, inside Mount Saint Helens' Slip 'n Slide.
Take me to the water once again
where seashells are cradled
by the soft lull of shore's end
sitting contented and ladled
At the seaside two discarded oars
traded in for a summer jaunt
across the waters, a dormi d'or
waving at an early morning font...
Lead me to God's paradise on earth
and dip me in the waters blue
for I am a piscean girl at birth
and I'll know just what to do
When you glide me into waters
deeper than the ocean floor
I'll be a doting good daughter
just open me the door.
these carnal desires will see me expire
inseperately stained from this foul game
of avoiding the smallest pricks of pain,
growing rage for making me play
with these machinations inside my brain,
artificial aspirations alienate the cause
and effect, misdirect these things we call laws
it's so flawed, I can't move on
I'm weighed down by noiseless sound,
of no one else around,
can't let that put us down
the drumming want to take a jaunt,
to run away with no embrace
can't look back or face regret
still managing to get upset
bereft of those I truly wept,
but on I crept, each lowley step
a constant pace and rhythmic breath,
unruly unrest, unconsciousness,
what does it mean do I exist
or just subsist on this planet,
trapped in my orbital plane,
fighting flames of growing disdain,
this dark domain will surely wane
but not without closing its veins
refrain from pulling the trigger
that figures, it doesn't help you
or me so I think I'll reconsider
trying to see this whole play through
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