Long Zig zag Poems
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I walked outside in the scorching heat moving papers and turning over pages just looking for that one line that goes back to the middle ages. The search was long, the documents were strong and the paragraph sits at the bottom with the exact words about the controversial land. Moses was deceased, Joshua was bequeathed and mimiram joined the crew when her leprosy
came through.
I traveled to Vatican City to view the writing form the thirteenth century there were piles and piles of them standing in a row but I had nowhere to go and I could not move any of them.
I had to view them with a magnifying glass or the whole thing would have fallen apart .I walked along the Vatican city underground and there were museums all around with documents that goes back to the creation of the earth but they were all sealed up in dirt.
Something caught my eyes from the back and I continue to move my eyeball over the lines to see what historical data I could find. I just wanted to fit the pieces together until I could uncover the secrecy, and just when I thought my long search was done a cockroach crawl up from the corner and there it was staring at me, the very line that illustrate my dignity. A thousand cameras pointed at me from every angle, I could not touch or move a thing until the vessel I had memorized the plaintiff hymn.
The Priest kept juggling on the floor and the Roman soldiers keep asking for more, the theater was where it all began with a harp a violin and a harmonica riding on the gondola and singing a song. They were all playing for me as the discovery breaks the bonds of history to uncover an age-old mystery, the authentic crowd docked on the other side while I continue to hold up my pride and the gondola drift.
I try to fit the piece together so I went on a hurricane ride and landed in Peru and made my way to the city of Cuzco to connect the dots and explore the salt mine of maras and when I got what I wanted I made my way to France and visit the Mount Blanc and made a bond with Eifel tower. When the research was over, I clocked in nine hundred million dollars for a Zig Zag line and a marking on a cave that was divine.
And so the evidence was right in front of me to prove the murder in the first degree and a global fraud in the second degree. You must make haste and come and see me.
Four legs quiver
like clumsy cabrioles
striking smooth gray rivers
of zig-zag sidewalk barrios
in rhythm with happy shivers
syncopated on a muffled drum
as we talk and stroll
On our way
hand-in-hand
we persuade and pretend
this day away
taunting and cajoling to demand
laughing “hide and seeking”
chasing and skedaddling
poking and peeking
like cuddly pandas
or canoodling otters
splashing and clambering
We roll and meander
impetuously twiddling all the way
atop gregarious green promenades
we pause in slight delay
as we prattle and prance
as we dance to the Crickets singing
nodding to their fiddling
frolicking with all the jiggling
Serendipitous stalks
of snickering flowers pop
to dazzle and razzle our wits
we glide in stripes of candy bits
of rainbows bright
Purple painted paisley
fragrantly flairs in pairs
of scented lavender sweetness
among black-eyed daisies
dusting the woozy air
in a meadow’s billowing bloom
sunflowers sunbathe in costume
We giddily tarry
as we carry
a feast of fancies and treats
artsy bits of charmed delicacies
filled with a peck of upcoming kisses
enticing fantasies that wink
Snuggling shenanigans lead us astray
as we find our rootie-tootie hideaway
hugs as we shy away
from tomfoolery jesting
to lay down and swoon
looking up at the soon to be stars
lingering for the coming of the moon
Murmurs of Starlings
gaggle their harmonies
of chirps
in cheeks and broadened beaks
thrumming tiny melodies.
Swallows sweep and woo
fixated on this unabashed swain
through songbird strains
announcing a shrilling review
broadening in sweet refrains
“I love you…I love you”
Fingerpainting the Monet sky
puffy white cotton words appear
from clouds passing by
while tiny violins spin in the air
piccolos peep
pigeon-toed Doves coo and weep
their contentedness to appease
trailing off the pleasant breeze
I fall upon my knees
My words explode to strew
like a thousand storms set free
“I love you…I love you…I love you”
ART
A esthete, I am for I love, love and appreciate works of art and
B eautiful things including alluring women and good looking men.
C reativity of the artists on display, being appreciated and critiqued.
D ance, movements matching the speed and rhythm of the music.
E xpression of emotions, self-expression through body movements.
F ine art, collective term for art created to be beautiful, not functional.
G oals are set by true artists to stay motivated and grow.
H armony and contrast, one of the principles of art.
I magination could be expressed in ideas, feelings, words.
J ewelry making, designs are created by compare and contrast of metals.
K een sense of perception creates an outstanding piece of art work.
L iterature, written works of superior or artistic merit.
M usic, art of arranging sound to create form, harmony, melody, rhythm.
N atural talent is a gift, lack of it can be overcome with determination.
O bjective abstraction, a non-geometric style of abstract art.
P oetry, when spoken out loud is a performance art, like dance, music, acting.
Q uattrocento, the artistic styles of the late Middle Ages, in Italy.
R eflection of innermost emotions could produce aesthetic objects.
S kill and imagination create art that is beautiful or expresses ideas or feelings.
T heatre, collaborative form of performing art played before a live audience.
U nanalyzable creative power and unique and individual emotions in visual form.
V isual arts like painting, drawing, sculpture, photography are visual objects.
W orks of art are categorized as visual art, literary art and performing art.
X ylophone, xylorimba are percussion instruments use for dynamic compositions.
Y outh art, young people taking part in creative, cultural, expressive activity.
Z ackenstil is a zig zag or jagged style used in painting, sculpture, stained glass.
"Predators lurk in darkness. Sometimes however cautious we are, they jump upon us to play havoc. We build dreams, but never know when cruel fate comes to shatter them. Life is so unpredictable."--- ~ By Poet~
On a tree, the Robin built a nest of intricate design,
A beautiful piece of art unmatched in décor!
It was amid the dark verdure of a hefty pine,
Thoughtfully placed at a height above the ground’s floor.
This habitat with its life and grace, none could ignore.
How suddenly the nest erupts into a clatter of sounds,
As the mother bird comes diving in with a wriggling worm.
Discreetly thrusting it into gaping mouths, into sky she mounts.
Comes again to see they are fed well and this to affirm,
She comes often and sees her nestlings are free of all harm.
At night fall, wherever she is, she alights abrupt.
From what infinite heights, God alone knows.
Darting into her nest as she hovers, the birdies suddenly erupt
Into noise, but soon the din subsides into perfect peace.
Bundled in mother’s warmth, the little ones go into repose.
From my window, I enjoy this diurnal scene
Repeating itself in methodical precision
Until someday take on wings and into sky, fly unseen
A cheery sight, with joy, every day I could envision.
Through years, I used to watch this drama in repetition.
But the next morn, what a shock, I lost my zest,
At what I espied through my open window.
On the ground lay the swallow’s shattered nest,
Broken and blown into pieces, what a depressing show!
By its side, lay a few downy feathers in a zig zag row.
In an instant, through my mind flashed past,
An image, I had seen the previous night
It was the glowing eyes of the black tom cat
That regularly prowls my courtyard to my great fright.
With sadness I visualized the horrid scenes of a losing fight.
goodbye summer goodbye
i will miss them so all the flowers in my garden
they needed me and that felt right
i spoke to the flowers explained to them
about the sun
about the shade
about the showers
i will miss them so
all the flowers in my garden
the days won't be able to hang around as long
the nights well they'll be around more
but as things stand i have no one
no one to kiss in the light of the moon
no one to hold beneath the pin lit sky
the days won't be able to hang around as long
i'll have to roll up the beach
I'll have to put it in storage
i wouldn't want it to freeze
or get seriously bitten
by the grip of winter days
i've learned by experience
even in autumn winter visits here
i'll have to roll up the beach
i will have to discretely wave my goodbyes
to the ocean curls and all of its pearls
speak quietly in order to not upset the boardwalk
she always cries
she hates goodbyes
she'll miss her friend
her best friend summer
i will have to discretely wave my goodbyes
no more t-shirts and shorts or barely there swim suits
i'm going to really miss the ladies dressed like this
i'm going to really miss what they do to my rubber neck
yes i confess i am not particularly attracted to parkas
no more t-shirts and shorts or barely there swim suits
i might as well say good bye now summer
i'm not very good at this it makes me sad
i should tell you i won't be going to the airport
i couldn't stand to watch you leave. i like you here
i might as well say good bye now summer
i'll help you pack, you'll need the grey clouds
the thunder cries the zig zag lightning bolts
you'll need some zip lock bags to pack the humidity
i've spoken to the birds they're all set to migrate
why does every story need to have an end...
She’s got happy feet,
kicking moist sand in the air
Running in a zig zag line
like a high-flying kite
Nyla is calypso dancing around,
with her heart floating off the ground
Hearing the trailing away voices of “you’re it ...”
“No I’m not, you’re it” doesn’t bother her one bit
This just might be the best day of her young life
That’s her opinion, she would proudly tell you
It’s birthday year seven
And she’s having so much fun,
at her beach birthday party
Colorful bathing suit cannonballs,
hurtling into the swimming pool
So many kids clamoring, wanting to ride ...
waiting to get all wet on the giant water slide
Cool fun on a hot day
So many popsicle-colored tongues
dripping
with childish carefree chattering ...
melting
all their popsicle inhibitions away
Such warm, innocuous happiness on tropical display
Time seems to fly by so fast
when you’re having this much fun
On birthday year seven,
Nyla feels like she just turned eleven
Kids having so much frosty fun
are working up a grownup size appetite this hot day
There’s a lot of ice cream that needs to get ate,
and she sees Momma putting a slice of chocolate cake
on everybody’s plate
And her Daddy’s taking pictures of those who pass by
Telling everybody
he’s got something in his eye
Momma gives him a teardrop kiss
as he wipes them dry
Then Nyla looks up at the sky,
and thank God for the perfect sunny weather
And suddenly her best friend is standing beside her,
giggling with so much joy
Seeing her favorite friend smiling on this special day,
it feels like nothing could be better
Until her closest sister-friend whispers in her ear:
This is the best birthday party ever!
With a bag of spiders collected for my science project
A fifth grader’s “Spiders Under The Influence” was the subject
Got the idea from a book on the study by a zoologist
Shifting the time when spiders built their webs, his quest
The pattern of the orbs distorted, the greater the toxicity
I knew from reading that they were safe so no need for pity
They gave my mother valium (a tiny pill) for anxiety
Although I always behaved with the utmost propriety
I couldn’t say to her, I’m having a nervous breakdown mom
I must pass a final to graduate, can I please have one?
I waited until she dyed her hair, a beautician I applause
I snuck into her bureau and swiped a pill for the cause
The pot I stole from my older sister, stinky skunk weed
I’d mash then extract, made it hash to put in the feed
I had done the same with the pills and the caffeine
I used sugar water as the solution and began graphing
The results of the experiment a success, I felt like a celeb
It takes one hour for a garden spider to build an orb web
Small doses of these drugs showed the cobwebs were smaller
They were way out of whack, droopy and irregular
The radii uneven, the widespread of the circles was affected
The sleepy one did nothing all day as expected
The spider on marijuana started a web, then flat-out gave up
It took the creepy crawler longer to string and linkup
The spiders survived; I hurled them back into the bag
In the garden I set them free as I watched them zig-zag
Mrs. Byrd, my science teacher was very angry and refused to exhibit
She gave me an A anyway whispered to me, enjoyed it quite a bit!
7 LITTLE FIELD MICE WHERE ARE THEY NOW
There were 7 little field mice;
Living in the field;
One mouse cried;
It’s cold outside;
So pack of six;
Nibbled at the corner of the house;
And that is how the seven got inside;
But alas one mouse died;
Ate some great tasting D-con;
Seven went in the house,
So now there’s six;
There were 6 little field mouse;
In this nice house;
You see it’s cold outside;
Wow!! The furnace is running;
House is clean but there’s some crumbs up under;
In back of the refrigerator some bread crumbs;
And under the sink some water to drink;
Oh, Oh there’s a mouse trap
“S N A P”
There goes Fred;
Guess, He’s dead, dummy nibble on the trap
Set off the bar, down on his head
Yeah! He’s DEAD Freddie’s dead
If there are mice in heaven in the skies;
Guess, we’ll see him later when we die;
Now there’s five
So four little mice in the house;
Benny ate a hole in the bed;
The mattress taste great;
But he got a stomach ache
He choked on cotton, that’s the end of him;
So now he to is dead leaving only three;
Three little mice in the house;
Played tagged running around zig-zag;
Came out of the wall;
And saw Paul being eaten by a big-fury cat
And now there’s only two mice left;
And to think they were 7 little field mouse;
Snuck into the house;
Only because it’s was cold outside;
Also the furnace is running;
And in the nooks and cranny's plenty of food and trash to nibble on;
Well now there are only 2 mice left;
But little did they know;
They too must go;
For you see the home owner’s a MAD SCIENTIST
Alas!!! Where the 2 LITTLE FIELD MICE WHERE ARE THEY NOW
11/7/18
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2018©
Local used bookshop, an easy energy
comforting shelves crowded with tracks of wisdom,
literature, philosophy, religion, the sciences
even graphic novels, saucy and weighty
fluff, too, for pool side reading
fairy tales of fear and fancy (what does turn pumpkins
into coaches after all?)
stacks of Natural Geographic, provocative, with
indigenous innocence, lands and space
undusted spread of news
I walk through zig-zag enticement on floors that creak
like old folks mating
uninhibited, protracted browsing
bookworm's comforting crawl
steadied nirvana
Do I take a step in a different direction?
buy a cookbook though I've little kitchen recollection
Authors recognizable
soothing charm in
brittle, yellow pages
that have passed through protean ages
Gravitational pull of old, in a world where nothing much
stands still
like wired lives, pushed hard in the making
I'm told that I'm shackled to what's obsolete
to free myself from choke holds past
like a bookshop, anachronistic
Did I mis-read value? Nourish the inessential?
Outside signs are visible: site cleared for re-development
Demolition seeps (like tar) into our lives
to strip space familiar
to uproot stakes of what's connective
My aged bookshop, a disrupted treasure,
worthy of a quiet reverence
dignity
before the landscape veers
Poem composed: March 8, 2021
Revised: April 3, 2021
Take me through dear Lord Take me through what my flesh failed to do. Take me through the mountains of steep hurt steep pain. Take me through the valley floor where now I see no door forward just Towers-Towers of myself mirrors of my own reflections of myself when sometimes no one seems to care about my pain but to tear at my soul that is at rest. Take me through the night being the night tears flow- but this calms the heartbeat and unsteady unstable zig-zag pain and my mind hurt with tears but my soul is free to love loving the scene continue and glows -So I walked through the tunnel of love speech retreat a voice did greet-Let not your heart be troubled---- you believe in God----Believe in me-In my Fathers house are many mansions -if it were not so I would have told you-I go to prepare a place- and If I go and prepare a place for you-I will come again and receive you unto myself that were I am you may be also and where I go you already know and the way you know- So face the strong towers be not afraid so tower moments come tower moment goes ahead - my child let not-your heart be troubled- neither let your heart be afraid!
Verily verily I say unto you-He that continue to believe on me. Your Lord
Greater says he to be! Greater than these towers of hidden agendas where secrets are kept in the darkness---- Bow to the promise of love -If you ask anything in my name I will do it for you I promise I will do it to dry your tears sadness and fears weeping may endure through the night but joy come in the morning light awaken my dear child awake beauty those lovely eyes and see alright!
I will do it.
Just Ask!