Long Butts Poems
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Certainly. There's lotsa stuff
that's no more.
Certainty, like death, is forever.
Change stops when you're dead.
Change does just that, keeps changing.
You can give up smoking
yet you can't give up changing.
Gave up smokin' fifty years ago.
Cigarettes, ash trays, things of my past.
There's something about ashes
everyone eventually ends up there.
Many of us make ashes of ourselves.
These Ifs surely can get ya.
And those Ands keep comin'.
But the Butts
no more for me.
Funny how this works.
Certainty, good riddance.
No Ifs Ands or Butts.
19 Lines Free Verse 93 Words October 2022
Pen illustration G. Gaul
Dear Winter and Spring,
Read this letter carefully.
It's very urgent.
Winter, we've suffered
From freezing our booties off,
Horrible snowstorms;
Shoveling outside,
Thirty mile-per-hour winds,
Falling on our butts;
Icy streets and slush,
Sidewalks covered with rock salt,
(Did I mention snow?)
And the worst part was:
Coughing, stuffy nose, sneezing,
And stressful headaches.
We've all had enough!
Pack up your stuff and get gone!
Don't come back no more!
Spring, you're here at last.
What the heck took you so long?
Come and thaw us out.
Finally, it's time
To bid "Sayonara" to
Our winter gear.
We look forward to
Warmer temperatures and
Showing sexy skin.
There'll be rainy days,
But we'd rather have that than
Shivering outdoors.
What we're saying is:
"Good-bye, winter. Hello, spring!"
Sincerely yours, Us.
Can’t believe how many years together.
As a couple the ups & downs we weather.
As husband and wife over the past six.
Loyally accepting flaws we cannot fix.
I’m not going to sugarcoat how we are.
After arguing, asking how we got so far.
Sometimes we drive each other nuts.
Wanting to kick each other’s butts.
But there’s times where we feel the glue.
That keeps together both me and you.
It’s what brought Ryder into this world.
Through the pregnant times, you hurled.
We made a kid that makes us laugh.
Yes, he clearly favors my better half.
A chatterbox overflowing with brain.
So much it can drive us both insane.
With four feline siblings and his fetus sis.
When they get pissed we hear the hiss.
But like us, they have plenty of quirks.
Goofing around like a team of jerks.
But it bonds this silly family that we made.
Our unique love quickly helps pain fade.
We raised so many kids over these years.
Picking each other up after we shed tears.
I honestly can’t say we’ve fully grown up.
Even after seeing Ry outgrow a sippy cup.
We’re still big kids, learning how to adult.
But knowing how to fire off a solid insult.
Our list of inside jokes keeps expanding.
As responsibilities get more demanding.
We often get under each other’s skin.
But it’s forgotten when our humor begin.
My love for you has grown every day.
Even though it’s not what I always say.
So when you read this poem as my gift.
I hope it earns a hug and kiss very swift.
One of the things I love about memories…besides the wonderful feelings they can bring…is their ability to attach themselves to a myriad of things.
Yesterday I heard MC Hammer’s ‘You Can’t Touch This’ on the radio…which my mind was quick to salute…while promptly moving past MC Hammer and his pants made of parachute.
There’s something about that song…when you hear it…even if by chance…that makes you at least want to move your feet…and at most…get up and dance.
When my memory heard that song…in an instant it transported me…back to a time when our two oldest grandchildren were staying with us in NC.
The four of us were sitting on the deck of our cabin when that song came on the air…and immediately we started dancing…how we looked…we didn’t care.
For what could be better than dancing to ‘You Can’t Touch This’ by MC…
with our grandchildren on the deck of our cabin in NC?.
Then Damien and Taylor got it in their heads…I suppose that’s the power of what music can do…to see if they could dance around the cabin before the song was through.
They looked to us for approval…wondering if we would worry…when Deborah turned up the volume on the radio and said…”If you’re going to make it…you better hurry.”
And here is what’s etched into my memory…of that truly memorable day…the butts of our two oldest grandchildren as they happily danced away.
And of Deborah and I watching them…running…dancing…laughing as children are apt to do…with smiles on our faces a they made it back before the song was through.
So as two super dope grandparents from Florida…
yes, we are often known as such…
we’d like to thank MC Hammer and his music
for giving us a memory in NC we will never forget…
a memory…it’s safe to say…you can’t touch.
Wide eyed cat girl had a glow and a glimpse
We steered clear of her of course, as we are imps
She had the crazy look of one of those chimps
You see in the circus who walk with butts out like gimps.
Wide eyed cat girl had a look that said leave me alone.
She did not answer to anyone, rules she did not condone.
I never saw her with technology – TV, an I-pad or an I-phone
Since she was a cat, I assumed she might like to bone.
Wide eyed cat girl gave me a look that shrunk me down.
It was the same look she gifted to others in our fair town.
She ran off one night with Sir Tom, a circus cat clown.
Someone said she got married in a hand me down pinkish gown.
Through the gap between the closed drapes
A maid peers in a daze
An ashtray upon the table
Held her undiffused gaze
Clearly there was bright red lipstick
Circles upon some butts
A golden earring lies close by
Lying cheat drives her nuts
The fog lifted revealing all
Airline ticket back home
A scoundrel, cheater, liar, creep
In the night he does roam
A teardrop fell upon the floor
As the click opened lock
He slept peacefully this last night
Gun shots silenced by the clock
An airline ticket now possessed
Swifter than that jet plane
Around the block to catch the same
Click, clack the sound mundane
Last chapter typed upon white sheets
The typewriter now still
Headlines plastered across front page
Lovers in motel were killed
Sponsor: Giorgio AV
Contest: Structured Forms
Author: Sara Kendrick
Written: December 6, 2014
This is written in a type of Poulter's Measure
Actually each stanza is two fourteen syllable couplets
but broken down into 8,6,8,6 with the rhymes on the 6
Some lines might be a little off..
BUTT ME--
Oh Jazz Age of prosperity and dissipation
Jazz bands, bootleggers, raccoon coats
Bathtub gin, flappers, flagpole sitters recitations
Bootleggers, and marathon dancers boast
Butt me
Cigarettes, Cigars, Pipes, Smoke, Butt, Snuff,
Bone, Coffin nail, Cancer stick smokes
Looks Like the leaves are chopped up
And are made into forms, that can be smoked we choke
Butt me
Ahh! Unluck me Butt me
In a chance to chewed.
Be unrefused I just wanna smoke ya brew
Yeah! Ok, man light me
Hey, is it just me
For I can’t see
For the smoke in here
Hey, is it just me
Butt me
"Sorry man, I just wanted to smoke with ...man it’s real”
It’s not a joke I’m lit, I’m liken a beggar from Seville
Shredding cigar butts and roll
As the guitar and bass plays tolls
And the drums rolls
Butt me
Them in paper scraps to smoke
Cigarettes as them coffin nails
Got me lungs covered can’t inhale I smoke
Bound leaves called twists instill inhale
Butt me
In and sweetened products called plugs.
The widespread smoking in the Western set
Largely a 20th-century phenomenon set cutting a rug
Butt me I shall not resist the call
Merit a puff, a smoke a before
Nicotine to pick up discarded cigar butts,
Shred them, and roll them up
Given in to it a puff-a whiff
Butt me
As cigarrillos “little cigars” some may say calming does
Light up them sticks "Silent Generation,"
Bee's knees an older man in stellar clothes
A silver fox attractive, charming, and alluring class sensation
Ahh! Unluck me Butt me
In a chance to chewed.
Be unrefuted I just wanna smoke ya brew
Yeah! Ok, man light me
Hey, is it just me
For I can’t see
For the smoke in here
Hey, is it just me
Butt me
9/23/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2024©
From anthology #1 SHASTA JAZZ Dedicated verse for Shasta Simms
She has a tumbledown deck, a creaky rocker.
Dandelion seeds carry memories
from one neglected garden patch to another.
She’s not that old, but her wine has mulled,
a hard sun has scoured her features.
There were children once. They play
now upon her mind
as crippled backwoods memories.
The ‘law’ took them, and the grinding years
brewed more bitter coffee, while on the decking
coffee cans were filled with cigarette butts.
‘No-good lovers’ still occasionally
practiced their shoddy dance steps,
but even the one night stands have dwindled
to hasty matinee tumbles.
Few life choices were well made or unpaid for,
yet in the ***-end of each day
she wanders upon her dandelion patch,
and prays to the girl she once was,
then she retires to a tousled bed
to sleep with the rootless shadows
that float as light as air
through her ramshackle nights.
worse than a chipped teacup,
yolk hardens upon heated pavement.
who do you trust when it’s time to sup?
hit with a silver spoon, cracked and peeled.
embryonic tears leak from a chicken’s nest.
what happens when street poultry doesn’t yield?
Humpty Dumpty high
upon the gates of hell
hard-boiled, will he fry?
he leans back with his knighted white chest.
the choice city arrayed in rainbow promises.
lacking calcium and vitamin d, ascends to rest.
Humpty’s sweating the sun. streaks of regret
stain rounded armpits. Slick sill of wall - dire.
his craven and rubbery insides not well set.
wondering and worrying, if he falls, will
all the king's horses and men rescue him…
at his age he could succumb to a nasty spill.
“over-easy” didn’t sound so bad. He hears
whispers of the town, trying to understand.
he longs to meet Benedict and other peers.
feeling a bit cocky, eager to do the eggroll.
figures his tough shell will protect him from harm.
rather charming, and with a whitewashed soul,
forgetting to say the blessing, he slips and slides.
history remembers his silly sounding name.
did the horses and king’s men save his hide?
shellacked shell and runny guts
had to be swept and trashed —
king ordered - no ifs ands or “butts”
6/25/2018
Humpty Dumpty Contest
Blind Date With a Cat
My auntie asks me, "You want a new cat,
who'd love a home as warm as yours?" "How great!"
I say. "I'll take her sight unseen!" My hat
and coat I fetch, prepare for this "blind date."
A blue-eyed tabby, curled on auntie's bed
comes straight to me as I extend my hand
to let her sniff, then pet her dark-eared head.
She head-butts me for more. I understand!
I take her home. She hides a little bit
beneath my couch, but as I reach for her,
she comes right out and follows me to sit,
then covers up my lap in shedding fur.
She sleeps now, purring like a dove in song.
It's like this cat's been with me all along!