Some are soft and sweet
Others….well….a bit sharper
Colder…edged in frost
There are those that
Turn up the heat
Slowly simmering
The subtlety of satire
Softening the edges
Of the boldly bawdy limerick
There are those that dance
To that different drummer
Scattered alliterative groups
Counting meter’s coup
On a hesitant rhyme.
Ranters, rambling on the
Borders of repetition
Stung by the brevity
Of a well-placed Senryu.
And still the Bard holds favor
As time, in changing costume
Alters allegorical allegiances
Cold youth rebelling
‘gainst the yellowed page
Numerical wizards
Seeking arithmetic advantage
Lover’s dreaming of lust’s long faded scent
Scribbling in strained distress
Whistling amid the gravestones
Of silenced poets
A forty- nine line poem (which is rated no 19 in PS top 100 love poems listing) that is visually improved in those versions thereof that drop the stanza breaks & leave off the quirky numerical side numbering ( in this version presented here by PS) which merely disrupts both reading & reciting ..as does the traditional first word line capitalisation of what otherwise is a valiant poetic attempt to capture the fundamentals of the key human life aspiration
Gun is fired
Friction-slick bullets heat the barrel shocking the shoulder finding a new place in its socket
Metal pellets rain like rain or hail
As opposed to paper pellets or those made of grain derivatives
How many glyphs exist?
Those recognized by some higher authority
And how many more are there that go unaccounted for?
I have a set of my own
It is smart to keep part of yourself unaccounted for
Keep it on pages buried in second-hand drawer chests
When does a spider's web become a cobweb?
How much dust has to fall?
How many days?
Can we quantify it?
Dusts rain like rain, not like hail
Or like bird feathers telling you something must've happened above
Something of note
I refuse to dust
To wipe away my calendar
Non-numerical calendar grids
Compress to fit into layers
Layers only distinguished by time of fall
Of rain
Of feather
Not by barrier, nor boundary, nor anything which can be marked
Only known
It is only known that upon waking from sleep or else what
That more dust is there
Or maybe that
The surface of my skin has changed
The fibers of my clothes are more worn
And gravity still complies with its law
One breath to clear the mind.
Two Hearts beating in time,
Two lives beginning to rhyme.
Three hopes in a deep ocean,
Three ideas now in motion,
Three dreams deep with emotion.
Four winds to desire,
Four acts you require,
Four directions to aspire,
Four seasons you’ll acquire.
Five tastes we will pursue,
Five promises made to renew,
Five senses you must subdue,
Five days of work to get through,
Five ways to make it come true.
Beta the decay yet kinetic in time
Clue be given to you in this rhyme
Diameter in mass and vector
East north and west with South in chime
Fox and the hound led not the blind
Global position Sovereign in the rewind
Headquarters DMZ
Say I Ram in the wind
Free formed American letters
Aisled constitution
Assent
Report
Confer
Signature of alphabet.
Legislation
Derivative of signatures
Posthaste
Carriage
Distribution of wages
Post War Conference
Numerical Assignments concur
Exchange of freedom
Mandated registration for return
Postmaster
Post mastered
Door frame
Hearth
Circulation of the times
Of America
Objective as Coordinate
Tackling a slick problem like D’Alembert’s paradox—
a cylinder set in motion, destined to roll on and on—
My fresh numerical method spoke in the same voice,
but sparked sharp debate—someone blamed me for ignorance.
Until a quip cracked the tension: “D’Alembert’s paradox doesn’t account for lubrication.”
Truths can slice deep, sharper than we expect,
Yet a wry smile, a joke, can transmute iron into gold.
Humor doesn’t erase the sting—it dulls the edge,
revealing strength when despair weighs us down.
A sense of humor is our forged armor:
a spark of joy in the heart, a reluctant laugh on the lips—
it signals someone who grasps life's brittle elegance.
A gentle jest softens the hardest truths,
shading overwhelming realities with grace.
When wit stands as a stronghold,
even bitter truths echo with less sting.
You don’t flee reality—you greet it with a grin—
and in that greeting, you find the courage to begin again.
If Miracles,
Numerical,
Fun's Light!
To Raise The Field's Of Sunday's
Service, .... Wide!
A better name for an octopus?
It's tough to make stuff up.
We could start with a brand-new appellation.
How about a name like "Suction Pup"?!
Or perhaps we could start the debate
with a numerical tag like "Ocean's Eight".
Another name open for discussion
would be a handle like "Squid's Cousin".
Still another, somewhat grandiloquent,
could be the rather pompous "Inknificent".
My Scottish friends, with joy, will weep
if the new label is "Bagpipes of the Deep"!
Or one can almost hear sailors shout "Ahoy!
Is that a rock? No, it's an Ol' Tangly Boy!"
Shrinking down now,
With each passing day,
Figures fading,
Slipping away.
Diminishing slowly,
Bit by bit they wane,
Until just,
Numbers remain.
Sitting on pages,
In ledgers and books,
Only a trace remains.
Diminishing,fading,
Almost out of sight,
Reduced to mere digits,
No longer alight.
A Financial Phantom,
Once bold and so clear,
Now just a number,
Devoid of all cheer.
Accounting's faint echo,
A numerical scar,
Vanishing softly,
Quiet and far.
On this day of February 2
My reflection back to reckon
The number is 68
Numerical to appreciate
When I think of all my trials and tribulations
My hand is raised in PRAISE without hesitation
Walking in my own blessing
Mercy and Grace
Honor from Heaven
Chosen
Death could have stopped by
Living with every try
When the praises go up, the blessings come down
Living and Breathing Among
Father in Heaven, you are the one
Thank you for life and guided advice
Spiritual like sugar and spice
Firm Foundation
Here is my thought on numerical evolution of Etheree poem form:
One,
Two, three
Four, five, six
Seven, eight, nine
Ten, eleven, twelve
Thirteen, forteen, fifteen
Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen
Nineteen, a twenty, a teentyone
twentytwo, twentythee. twentyfour
Twentyfive, twentysix, twentyseven
Here is an attempted poem:
Joy
brings smiles
cheer to face
on thrill of win.
On hearing laughter
from the voices of kids
evokes bliss in my spirits
contentment fills my hungry soul.
Happiness raeches an ecstasy,
I feel blessed with delight and elan.
Equitable foremost
beginnings numerical
proceeding perception
before the dawn
respect of time
ranked order before the last.
Space forward
brought forth
over beyond
respite truce
if anyone's first must be last
and a servant
of All for
how can one
Hunger,
if one can't
at first thirst
F1rst
01/01/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2024
Let's Rhyme
It’s rhyming recitation,
No race or competition;
Memorize table of multiplication,
Which is a short way of addition.
Addition is a numerical expansion,
It’s an opposite of subtraction,
Process shown repeatedly in division,
I hope you don’t have any objection.
Now, may I have all your attention,
Just an advise in piece or portion,
Always love and value education,
And master each fundamental math operation.
If you want rapid and higher progression,
Join rhyme poetry course and session;
Read dictionaries for correct pronunciation,
Accept constructive feedback and correction.
"One is the loneliest number that you'll ever do
Two can be as bad as one, its the loneliest number since the number one" Beginning lines of a song I like sung by 3 Dog Night
Multiplied by ONE, numbers stay the same.
So unique is ONE, it is like the sun.
For me, it is the number of my name
in numerology, for I was “One”
when I was born. Did you know each letter
has numerical value? You can find
online your name’s number. Even better,
more numbers from your birth date you’re assigned.
ONE means confidence and self-reliance,
maybe selfish, but very self-aware.
I love alone time; dislike compliance.
For God and unity, ONE will forbear.
The loneliest of numbers ONE may be,
but I’m happy “One” is a part of me.
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