there was a young lass named Mame
who thought she was headed for fame
she wanted to be a mime
but ran out of time
she talked too much and had only herself to blame
It’s all in a day
It’s the only way
Living day by day
They capture the way
Nowhere to go
Life is so slow
Live today
Die today
Death on the street
To live this way is no treat
They live on the street
With disgust they meet
At 14 they kill
that is a bitter pill
They don ‘t care if they spill
Your blood at will.
In the street
They will meet
To kill on the street
Is what they need
To Rape kill and Mame
To them it’s all the same.
If they don’t rape kill and Mame
To them it will be a shame
They will be kicked out by their own
They will die all alone
In a field lying on their back
Dead in a burnt-out shack.
The transport - imposing, loud, on time.
Rising smoke, intoxicating black cloud.
She steps past the tracks, onto the platform.
Ebonic eyes float up to her waiting kin.
She ascends the steel stairs, as hearts
Beat faster, and shyness slides behind
Mom and Dad. Dark braids, high cheeks,
Red lipstick - all envelops her mystique.
Melodic voice, a fashion designer. She
Arrives from the Big Apple - New York City.
She seems quite like Auntie Mame,
And Like That Girl, cute and single.
She’d collect Egypt, Africa and Europe;
Display them and marry a movie star’s son.
Like Brady Bunch Jan, she interests me.
The transport leaves its tracks behind.
Who knew old bossy
crooned on the streets of Anatevka?
She fiddled around as a marine;
and a matchmaker on Broadway.
This Golden Girl, Auntie Mame,
Bea Arthur, served her country
then lent her husky voice to debunk
Archie, putting him in his place.
This Archibald served in the Big One
fictitiously, but wow, the one
who’d jump into Maude’s skin
was a World War II Marine.
1/17/2023
Once when a fresh faced young girl named Mame,
Who had a face-lift, when seeking fame.
But the mirror's refraction
Gave her no satisfaction.
For her visage, portrayed an old dame.
11 / 7 / 2022.
Sponsor Tania Kitchin.
Howmanysyllables.com
For a Limerick contest.
The tight rope act fell from the wire
Afterwards they had to retire
All broke-up and Mame
Had no one to blame
But a shifty Beddie eye supplier
What about a touch
No mame
What about a kiss
No Ms.
There'll be no bodies warming
No sensual embracing nothing none of this
Your placement on my "Prayer" list
All I want to get right now is my heart and mind
Entirely I am sorely blessed perfectly and honesty
I am caught in love I am resting in it your love
This I can feel it I just want to love you I just want to love you so
Just want to love your soul
Ahh! I just want to love you to your soul
Just want to love you to your soul
With or without me you're already completed
Completely you're already whole this much you already know
Sorely resting in your love this I can feel it I see it
From above I just want to love you
Just want love with being the only one to love you
Yes and only you I want to love you to your soul
I just want to love you to yourself just want to love you to your soul
Without me it can be no other no one esle
No one who loves you more just want to love you
I just want to love you
I just want to love you
All the way love you through your soul
I just want to let you know
I just want to love you
4/2/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2022
Afghanistan is a country at war.
We fought by their side for 20 years
To keep the Taliban from
Destroying families, destroying lives.
We taught them to be independent;
We taught them to fight for their country.
After 20 years of fighting, it came time for us
To retreat and let them fight for what’s theirs.
Things may have been different,
But Trump decided to let thousands
Of Taliban, ready to go back and fight,
Free from captivity that kept the Afghani people safe.
Because of lack of a clear vision of the future,
Or perhaps because Trump didn’t care,
Our troops are retreating; our citizens are retreating;
Everyone but the Taliban is retreating.
Why did we cage the tiger to save our friends
And then let the tiger free
To kill and mame
As we fled to safety?
It is a no-win situation.
Twenty years is more than enough;
Enough lives lost, enough money spent.
Things could have been different,
But because of politics, it was all for naught.
Flawsymay Mindgone is here to play.
I look in the mirror and know I am in trouble today.
She roller skates in the house and puts mud on the floor.
She calls up the neighbors and runs nude out the door.
My husband was looking in the mirror over my shoulder.
Come on! He said. Why can’t you calm down? You are a year older.
Flawsymay Mindgone comes when she wants to boogie and dance.
I'll ry to get away before midnight, without a rumor askance.
The last time she came over my friends huffed off all irritated and mad.
Told Mame she looks like a porker in her dress, which was kind of bad.
I am calling in sick, for I dare not arrive anywhere close to my school.
The principal there does not put up with any kind of irritating fool.
Many resigned people accept humdrum and boring as their usual
Sadly, it is not supposed to be this way, this was not the plan
However, society allows them to stew in their own gravies, with chunks of who cares.
Which is why musicals will always do well, especially the ones with the bright-eyed optimists.
Rose colored glasses make for terrific story lines and scripts.
Poems full of happiness, hope and enthusiasm will always attract a crowd.
For two hours we can parade outside of our same oh, same oh,
And become Dolly, Auntie Mame, and the Unsinkable Molly Brown.
If you want more, you have to give yourself opportunities for more.
Hone your talents, figure out what gives you pleasure, go after your soul dream.
The poets, artists, dancers, singers, quarterbacks, and wrestlers did not get there accidentally
They followed their heart, gave their soul what she needed and lived their truth.
This could be and should be you. Do whatever you have always wanted to do
Before you run out of time.
We sing our sixties folk songs
And live in our Woodstock memories
Dancing to Cher’s Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves,
Hanging on to our excitement at surviving the seventies.
Peace is our sign, with love beads and Go Go boots
Thanks to Nancy Sinatra and “These Boots are Made for Walk’n”.
Don’t squawk, youngster, go your own way. Be you.
Don’t just survive, thrive! Live your soul dream.
Take this guitar and travel the world. Take Route 66.
Here are the keys to my Chrysler. Sure she’s old, but she’s powerful.
Singing “Little Ole Lady from Pasadena” with Grandma is not enough.
You have to get out there and live. Your life is waiting!
Destiny is sending you a cookie cake. Gobble up those chocolate chips.
Like Auntie Mame said, “Life is a banquet,
and most suckers are starving to death”.
Don’t let it be you. Go out and grab your gusto.
Parade in your pizzazz.
Be your most delightful and delectable you! Live your ethereal truth, my friend!
In her heart, she knew the truth.
And its nefarious root.
In a raging storm of wrath.
And, so she took the wrong path.
"Mame Blackwell," he said.
A shiny Eagle in her hand he laid.
"My wife is in need."
"I beg that you do heed."
"She screams out your name."
"And boast of your fame."
The baby is twisting her inner"
And the light in her eyes grows dimmer."
"He said, " I tried to talk her out of being cared for by a Negress wench."
His face was grim, not so much as a flinch.
From the agony of his condescension, she put a plan at play.
She follows him as he leads the way.
Under the impulse and retrospection of veterinary pedagogy.
The acute stress in the room was her burden wholly.
With skillful strategy, she guided the baby into a world of many ills.
But there was no fight for air through his tiny nostrils.
No shrills.
His face was nearly purple and his chest was still.
copy 2016
Looking out my window
nothing much to see.
A little bird flying by
stopped to look at me.
He was not scared, nor did he fly,
as I opened up the glass,
He watched me closely as he sat
upon the fresh mowed grass.
I stood awhile, then ventured forth
hoping he would stay.
But reaching him I realized,
I wished he'd fly away.
I am not mean, nor am I cruel,
it's simply sad but true.
That most would shoot, mame or hurt,
to protect him there are few.
So, instantly I shouted loud
and flapped my arms enraged.
It hurt me less to scare him now,
then to see him stuffed or caged.
Written by,
Sheri Lynne Evans
February 15, 1991
Completed March 2, 2020
If I was Auntie Mame, I would be excited about everything.
Kicking up fun wherever I am invited.
Even places I’m not, but everywhere being the zing.
Bringing people together, making them united.
I would be like giant puppies, leaping into lap places,
Sure I am welcome, not aware if I am not.
Knowing they are thrilled I am licking their faces.
I would throw up my hands, and dance around the lot.
I would be insanely, gloriously, uncommonly happy.
Unaware of disapproval or disdain in any way.
Oblivious to others’ discomfort, I would be loud and snappy.
Thinking their laughter is for me, I would continue to play!
Because I am the party, I do not want anyone to sleep.
Let the party begin! Bring out the chips and bar stools.
Take a chance, open that door, come out, and take the leap!
It is me, and if you have read the script, Auntie Mame rules!
When I retire and start living
I am going to stop writing and just live
Live, live, live like Auntie Mame
Or, maybe I will write about living:
A.M.
Drink margaritas – lime only
Walk on pristine beach – white sand only
Take three shots of espresso - Cuban only
Read love poems only by Neruda – NO WRITING!
Recite Shakespeare - the comedies only
Cook healthy vegan lunch and do cool yoga
P.M.
Drink cocktails - with Stoli only
Listen to Andy Bey and Patricia Barber for hours
Have sequestered time - with the LOML
Eat healthy vegan dinner and train for something called a 5K
Watch sunsets for longer than one minute
Go to indie films, live theater, hip clubs
And dance all night with buff gay men in briefs only!
I wonder if that is what living will be like.
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