Long Noticeably Poems
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Here's a terrifying piece of news about every mother's nightmare...
Happened in broad daylight with numerous customers everywhere...
A mother, busy festive shopping in a local retail store, was distracted for a couple of minutes...
She had her eyes and hand on her sweet little girl of 6 for all but a couple of minutes..
She turned around, panic rising but her sweet darling was nowhere to be found..
Her frantic eyes scoured all over as she desperately searched the whole floor...
Acting fast, she informed the supervisor of the store, and a alarm was sounded...
Panic button was hit and there was a security lockdown immediately effected...
Exit points were secured and free movement among the customers was curtailed...
An immediate search operation kicked in while a loving mother wallowed in despair..
For some 10 minutes it was high suspense noticeably tangible in the air...
Patrons and management alike intensified search in rising desperation..
Until a scream of exultation pierced through the tumultuous situation and turmoil...
A moment of pin dropped silence hung suspended in the air as all involuntariy recoiled...
Then a frantic throng of people rushed in haste to the wash room area....
To witness the emergence of a security lady craddling a bedraggled little girl..
The little girl was a sight, her long hair was half cropped, she was dazed...
Gone was her dainty little dress, she was in a garish pair of pants, eyebrows shaved...
There was a few seconds of shocked silence, then the mother rushed forward..
A huge roar of approval erupted and claps of elation thundered in unison...
Loving parents, do take heed for this was no figment of my imagination....
It did happen and the local daily papers headlined this episode for attention...
All it takes is some 5 minutes for a predator to lead away an innocent child...
In their evil ways, predators have endless devious means to sneak away your child...
I hope this little prose of mine is pleasant enough reading but let it be clear...
The message within is a dire warning to all parents who hold their loved ones dear...
Please be forewarned for dangers abound in the wide world out here...
Please be forearmed in order you and your loved ones are in the clear...
The Cunning Stranger at Dragon's Lair - A Narrative Poem
One day at a comic shop,
I met a man selling cats,
For the money, he wanted to swap,
But I really wanted some bats.
"Got any bats?" asked I.
"For that's how I'll spend my money (wow)."
"No bats here!" said the guy.
He seemed to find it quite funny.
This ain’t no zoo or pet store!
"We've got some interesting comics,
I'll give you a very fine price."
"I'd rather have some ergonomics."
The man blinked rapidly thrice.
The store owner said I got Batman # 7;
The man said I’d rather have rabies.
The man seemed exceptionally energetic,
And his manner was strangely amused.
He wasn't what I would call acetic,
The great disdain he noticeably oozed.
Like others, he thought I was odd,
Some say I'm a bit cunning.
Still, he gave me a courteous nod,
As if he thought I was plenty stunning.
In his hand was Spider-man # 5.
In mint condition worth $1.000.00, what a fine;
So in search of my goal I departed,
But before the comic shop could I leave,
The man came running full-hearted,
"I can help you I believe."
"Cats, bats, you shall not find.
Comics, ergonomics, you can get.
You must now open your mind,
And get down to Dragon's Lair Comics.
So to Dragon's Lair Comics, I decided to go,
In search of the bats, I craved.
The winds it did eerily blow.
But I felt that the day could be saved.
There were stalls selling comics,
Role-playing cards many heroes shades.
There were even stalls selling home economics
People were scattered from many trades
I was greeted by a peculiar lady,
She seemed to be rather cunning
I couldn't help thinking she might be quite shady.
I wondered if she was at all stunning.
Before I could open my mouth,
She shouted, "For you, I have some bats!"
I headed towards her, to the south,
Past some comics and cats.
"But how did you know?" I asked,
"Do you want them or not?" she did say.
Silently, the bats she passed.
Then vanished before I could pay.
As I walked away I heard a crackle
Or was it, perhaps, a hushed cackle?
Next door to the comic shop Acme Pet Store?
For you see a pet bat, not a cat or a comic was I looking for
6/6/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.
Over saturation with
welter weighted Yuletide
drenching world, web, wide
equal and/or greater
effort demands energy tide
to global warming,
lest apocalypse doth ride
high and mighty mandating,
inculcating, buoying... pride
toward planet Earth, the
apathetic, demonic, horrific,
plastic... malleable passive
can no longer run and hide.
Results elucidating, forthcoming,
groundbreaking courtesy of 23andme
nsync with network of
newly discovered cache of relatives
which painstakingly diligent
(joint) effort helped
map our family tree,
though her ardent effort
completed many months past I re:
visit substantially detailed
information about our genealogy,
this time (December)
of every year prompts me
now with particularly increased clarity
to conjure, imagine dragons,
order summon... glimpsing
mine Jewish ancestry,
yet nary handy
dandy blues clues,
not even one iota subsequently
qualifies yours truly to identify
with persecuted peoples be
leave me you,
a sudden fiery conversion
to immerse myself with Judaism fee
bull, nonetheless chronology
to broaden knowledge
base shockingly woke
greater awareness (i.e. truncated limbs)
regarding Holocaust soak
king unrepentant perpetrators
with blood on their
hands doth provoke
sadness more aware about
Eastern European distant
cousins bore yoke
of anti-Semitism
spiritually, figuratively
incises, didst stoke
albeit time delayed
vicarious pain, no matter broke
ken spirits long since
turned to dust, whereby
former ignorance (mine) linkedin
with smattering generations
of yore besmoke
horrors indelibly stitched within genes
comprising every bone
and sinew (mine).
Said heightened awareness
noticeably pronounced sudden
agonizing psychosomatic sensation
that did further third eye blind,
hence painful to open these brown eyes
already afflicted with severe myopia lined
with so called "floaters" necessitating
custom made bifocals, where Ophthalmic
laboratory technicians (manufacturing
opticians, optical goods workers, or kind
optical mechanics) deftly grind
cut, edge, and finish lenses according
to instructions provided by dispensing
opticians, optometrists, or ophthalmologists.
The Menacing Stranger At ShopCo-'Tar-zhay' - A Narrative Poem
One day at a dress shop,
I met a man selling shoes,
For money he wanted to swap,
But I really wanted some hushes.
A fence, also known as a receiver,
A mover, this an individual who knowingly buys stolen goods.
Now secretly selling now to later resell them for profit
So dishonest?
"Got any shoes?" asked I.
"For that's how I'll spend my money."
"No hughes here!" said the guy.
He seemed to find it quite funny.
"We've got some lovely dresses,
I'll give you a very fine price."
"I'd rather have some guesses."
The man blinked rapidly thrice.
The man seemed exceptionally beautiful,
And his manner was strangely amused.
He wasn't what I would call dutiful,
Great disdain he noticeably oozed.
Like others, he thought I was odd,
Some say I'm a bit tall.
Still he gave me a courteous nod,
As if he thought I was plenty cool.
So in search of my goal I departed,
But before the dress shop could I leave,
The man came running full-hearten,
"I can help you I believe."
"Shoes, hughes, you shall find.
Lulus JACQUELINE CHAMPAGNE FLORA dresses,
guesses, you can get.
You must now open your mind,
And get down to ShopCo 'Tar-zhay' .
So to ShopCo Tar-zhay I decided to go,
In search of the hughes I craved.
The winds it did eerily blow.
But I felt that the day could be saved.
There were stalls selling rings,
Barbies doll in many shades.
There were even stalls selling wings
People were scattered from many trades
I was greeted by a peculiar lady,
She seemed to be rather tall
I couldn't help thinking she might be quite shady.
I wondered if she was at all cool.
Before I could open my mouth,
She shouted, "For you, I have some hughes!"
I headed towards her, to the south,
Past some dresses and shoes.
"But how did you know?" I asked,
"Do you want them or not?" she did say.
Silently, the hughes she passed.
Then vanished before I could pay.
As I walked away I hard a crackle
Or was it, perhaps, a hushed cackle?
Lulus JACQUELINE CHAMPAGNE FLORA dresses,
guesses, you can't get at ShopCo-'Tar-zhay'
Ha! Ha! Ha! the man laughs
4/5/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
Dusk dawns noticeably earlier each night in Schwenksville, Pennsylvania - yup
Which trend will continue some days before
winter solstice 2021 in Northern Hemisphere,
Tuesday, December 21 10:58 AM.
Yes, interestingly enough earliest sunset date(s)
along eastern United States
will occur December 7 and 8, 2021 at 4:28 pm EST.
Similar respective phenomena
takes place across globe.
Winter solstice constitutes
shortest day of the year in terms of daylight,
but does not have latest sunrise
nor earliest sunset of the year.
This prevails because discrepancy exists
between modern-day timekeeping methods
and how time is measured
using the Sun known as the equation of time.
The equation of time comprises
east or west component of the analemma,
a curve representing angular offset of the Sun
from its mean position on celestial sphere
as viewed from Earth.
I thoroughly enjoy onset of early darkness
unperturbed courtesy
seasonal affective disorder (SAD).
Alas and alack
matter of fact yours truly
optimally thrives when pitch black
skies immerse bookworm as impetus to crack
open a novel and/or read
one of my favorite (MAD) magazines
versus basking in sunshine which doth distract,
thus I while away hours appeasing
sixty plus shades of gray (cerebral) matter
processing criteria at greased lightning speed
considerably faster than once
venerably touted supreme ENIAC,
whereby mine figurative pistons
incalculably subvert additional
superfluous irrelevant flack
spurring me to burrow
deep inside invisible gunnysack
cause ordinary stress I could not hack
conveniently latched onto
ninety sixties counterculture mantra
"turn on, tune in, drop out"
popularized by Timothy Leary in 1966
essentially only in body not spirit
throughout academic foray,
I occupied space and time
paid dear price, cuz
submissive behavior heavily did impact
writer of these words a jejune Jack,
who during formative years
never dated, nor got jilted
cuz he possessed
unquestioned unhealthy uncanny
fealty and deadly eating disorder
body dysmorphia knack
positive image of self I lack,
an existence punctuated
by one after another panic attack.
LXII+ years old and he still carries a security blanket
Move over Linus
Van Pelt of Peanuts fame,
cuz yours truly
also psychologically lame
since prepubescence
mine noticeably long hair
delivered inner comfort,
yet found some classmates
calling me "hippy" by name
though other tormentors among them
hurled expletive laced offensive insults
even ethnic slurs much less tame.
Absolute zero
anti-bullying laws prevailed ahoy
when reasonably rhyming poet
just a little beastie boy
"mean kids" hurtful tactics
they did deploy,
though one bookish lad named Donald Hoy,
he rode the same bus as me,
and most likely practiced magic ploy
to ward off nemesis.
Impossible mission
to detangle mane reason why
I experienced omnipotent
hair reed bond neither thy
father, mother nor therapist
could understand or qualify
outsize (obsessive/compulsive)
significance well nigh
much more (hyperbolically writing)
blatantly mystifying and unsettling
versus comprehending meaning
regarding the bridge on the River Kwai,
whereat these long strands
emanating from scalp, I
imagined them extending
out into space into no fly
zone, and if adored locks threatened
with someone brandishing scissors
one puny lad would cry.
Parents did not berate,
when early within mein kampf,
no matter my mother did execrate
obsessive compulsive thoughts did instigate
long necked pencil geek son
did unwittingly irritate
analogous to Samson
(though Delilah not my mate),
I imbue power courtesy each golden lock
atop me addled sub tracked pate,
where fifty plus shades of gray matter
houses ticky tacky psyche substrate,
which doth bubble, gurgle and percolate.
Only upon taking me last breath of air
viz, when grim reaper delivers death,
I will unroll welcome me
Scottish Harris tweed mat without fanfare
(for this common man),
and just maybe allow, enable, and provide
thee opportunity for scissors
to lop off longish straggly hair
subsequently repurposed into a
security blanket ideally suited
to create creature comfort within lair
for garden variety and generic caveman,
who truth be told lives very near
yours truly in Schwenksville.
Mr. Willie At CREATURES NORM AND WILD - A Narrative Poem
One day at a pet shop,
I met a man(named Mr. Willie) selling cockatoo,
For money he wanted to swap,
But I really wanted some cuckoo.
"Got any cuckoo?" asked I.
"For that's how I'll spend my money."
"No cuckoo here!" said the guy.
He seemed to find it quite funny.
"We've got some lovely gecko,
I'll give you a very fine price."
"I'd rather have some Caballero sparrow."
The man blinked rapidly thrice.
The man seemed exceptionally energetic,
And his manner was strangely amused.
He wasn't what I would call epigenetic,
Great disdain he noticeably oozed.
Like others, he thought I was odd,
Some say I'm a bit happy.
Still he gave me a courteous nod,
As if he thought I was plenty strappy.
So in search of my goal I departed,
But before the pet shop could I leave,
The man came running full-hearted,
"I can help you I believe says Mr. Willie."
"Cockatoo, cuckoo, you shall find.
Gecko, delgreco sparrow, you can get.
You must now open your mind,
And get down to CREATURES NORM AND WILD Market.
So to CREATURES NORM AND WILD Market I decided to go,
In search of the cuckoo I craved.
The winds it did eerily blow.
But I felt that the day could be saved.
There were stalls selling rings,
Cats in many shades.
There were even stalls selling wings
People were scattered from many trades
I was greeted by a peculiar sales lady,
She seemed to be rather happy
I couldn't help thinking she might be quite shady.
I wondered if she was at all strappy.
Before I could open my mouth,
She shouted, "For you, I have some cat nip!"
I headed towards her, to the south,
On the end cap by the tuna and cat/kitten mattress.
"But how did you know?" I asked, Huh!!
"Do you want them or not?" she did say. What!!!
Silently, the cuckoo escape flew passed. Did you see that...
Then vanished before I could pay. Hey!!
As I walked away I hard a crackle
Or was it, perhaps, a hushed cackle?
MEOW! You see the cat also ran off out the door
Hey……………
11/22/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.
Anferny was convinced that all
his problems were due to his skin,
he’d been told by teachers, and his mom,
that there was just no way to win.
He grew up believing he was part
of an awful, bigoted nation,
that he could never survive without
hand-outs and reparations.
He never tried to keep a job,
wouldn’t be caught ‘acting white,’
believed that he was a victim,
an thus had extra moral ‘rights.’
Spent all his days scraping by
on a meager monthly check,
turned to drugs to hide the fact
that his whole life was a wreck.
On welfare until he was forty,
when an overdose his heart rent,
Anferny relied on the government,
Anfery died on the government.
Savannah, she was quite a beauty,
and knew that fact all too well,
she battled her lashes and the boys
ran up as if she’d rung a bell.
But she believed she ‘needed no man,’
and always flitted from guy to guy,
content to ride on the carousel,
seeking nothing but a good time.
Until one day she was thirty-six
and decided to find a husband,
but her looks had faded noticeably,
she could no longer hook a man.
With no real skills to fall back on,
she turned desperately to the state,
she later died, alone and poor,
found with her cats eating her face.
Her final decades spent miserably,
living on other folk’s dollars and cents,
Savannah relied on the government,
Savannah died on the government.
Paul fought for his county overseas,
he did all his country could ask,
never a foe did he let escape,
he took our enemies to task.
He came home and live his life,
made good money as an auctioneer,
until three years later when he went
to a veteran’s doctor in fear.
He’d found a lump, and the biopsy
showed it to be a malignant growth,
a cancer that was aggressive,
it was a hard and heartbreaking blow.
They began chemotherapy,
but they started it too late,
because of bureaucratic fools
who'd made a paperwork mistake.
By the time they got it right
his last remaining strength was spent,
Paul had trusted in his government,
Paul died on his government.
Already noticeably marked
increase in daylight
yours truly courtesy affected
qua heliotropic phenomenon
finds me noggin gently being tugged
upward and westward ho toward sun
after dark mine talking head
rests downward and eastward.
Soon very indistinct
environmental intimations
regarding onomatopoeic
ubiquitous murmurings,
whereby old man winter
ever so faintly
relinquishes, loosens, forsakes...
Judas Priest iron maiden grip
upon emergent biosphere
suddenly awakened when
Mother Earth generates
invisible signals transmitted
across world wide web
analogous to conductor
standing on podium
with baton in her/his hand
orchestra playing on cue
perhaps choice selection
Rite of Spring
work by Russian composer Igor Stravinsky
or Flight of the Bumblebee
written by Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov.
Soon dormant species will exhibit rebirth
out their linkedin hibernation
flora and fauna tentatively
begin to issue forth out their slumbers
shoots poke thru across terra firma
insync with twittering tweeting creatures
hint viz verdant and/or fecund potential
ready to burst forth and proliferate
instinctively trumpeting joie de vivre.
Sensational show stopping, eye catching
breathtaking... parade of sights and sounds
await buzzfeeding eyes and ears
about six weeks hence,
within mine home box office
here at Highland Manor apartments
quite affordable rent
allows, enables and provides
radiant quiescence, preponderant observance,
nonresistant magnificence, jubilant innocence,
exuberant deliverance,
concurrent buoyant abundance.
Accordingly and allegedly other than
meteorologists plenti schooled
ascertaining onset of temperate air
more particularly otter den non humans
unassumingly (ferreted out), who bear
the tidings, when that season
of rebirth dawns with crystal clear
blue skies, and terrain where deer
and antelope eagerly play without despair
purportedly realized, reassured, recounted...drear
re: days vamoosed foretold by
Punxsutawney Phil on Groundhog Day
The Fast Stranger At Barker's Cake and Pastries Shop- A Narrative Poem
One day at a cake shop,
I met a man selling cats,
For money he wanted to swap,
But I really wanted some diplomats.
"Got any diplomats?" asked I.
"For that's how I'll spend my money."
"No diplomats here!" said the guy.
He seemed to find it quite funny.
"We've got some lovely chips,
I'll give you a very fine price."
"I'd rather have some onion thrips."
The man blinked rapidly thrice.
The man seemed exceptionally impatient,
And his manner was strangely amused.
He wasn't what I would call abortifacient,
Great disdain he noticeably oozed.
Like others, he thought I was odd,
Some say I'm a bit fast.
Still he gave me a courteous nod,
As if he thought I was plenty overcast.
So in search of my goal I departed,
But before the cake shop could I leave,
The man came running full-hearted,
"I can help you I believe."
"Cats, diplomats, you shall find.
Chips, onion thrips, you can get.
You must now open your mind,
And get down to Barker's Market.
So to Barker's Market I decided to go,
In search of the diplomats I craved.
The winds it did eerily blow.
But I felt that the day could be saved.
There were stalls selling cats,
Crisps in many shades.
There were even stalls selling bats
People were scattered from many trades
I was greeted by a peculiar lady,
She seemed to be rather fast
I couldn't help thinking she might be quite shady.
I wondered if she was at all overcast.
Before I could open my mouth,
She shouted, "For you, I have some diplomats!"
I headed towards her, to the south,
Past some chips and cats.
"But how did you know?" I asked,
"Do you want them or not?" she did say.
Silently, the diplomats she passed.
Then vanished before I could pay.
As I walked away I hard a crackle
Or was it, perhaps, a hushed cackle?
3/5/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.©2019