My dear, I have only just woken up
and opened the refrigerator
to take out
some joys, some sorrows, and a few blessings.
I wrote a song
and fed it birthday-cake.
The fennel flowers have remained just the same,
only the chair kept beside the window
does not want to sit there anymore.
And on it, last night’s moon
has folded away its white shirt.
I picked it up,
shook it gently,
and a few old afternoons
came tumbling down.
Then I went out to the balcony
and saw
an ant, very slowly,
changing the co-ordinate of my home.
I said nothing to it.
These days, those who have to leave,
on their way out,
should not be called back.
The fennel flowers have remained just the same.
#1
eroding hooded in-
fantry hounds endure
rear entry neutron edific-
ation
#2
ninety hidden round-
heads defied the
nations's fourth and
vinyl deity
#3
handy indentured Randy
hoed the feud from his
rooftop redoubt
#4
though yearning for
funds i found
knot butt frauds in my
yard
#5
tiny fading freon
nodes adore yon
daring radon onions
#6
reading frothy innu-
endo is only
funny when the
rhino's red hooves have
little or no foundation
#7
not so ornery
fiends hand out in-
ordinate amounts of
Henry's once hoarded
fortune
Gluggy margarine marine grips keels
Apex sun spreads sickly circle of lard
Plugged lungs, gust momentum marred
Strait elongates co-ordinate, pace killed
Gliding knife grease fixed current kestrels
Impotent motor pendulums drowsy matelot
Vacating tranquillity served seas slow
Exoteric tampers spatula flat vapid vessel
Crusading armada cruise aquatic canyon
Rigid crucifix mast meanders evangelical
Illusive land sinks split quills, sodalite inkwell
Top-gallant swallowed, whale snack plankton
Inert surrender line honours, hundred strong
Quelled by existence Earth centric
Universe of solar centre offensive
Encourages complacent latent symposium
Rigging ties tradition to methods regaled
Order drifts on brittle fine line filament
Oceanic only planet confirms familiar
Moribund remains phobic, slick oil sailed
18th February
Fear of Anarchy
GAPS GIVE CRITIQUE ROOM
It helps to be blessed with interior lines.
While your enemy struggles to co-ordinate,
Your units will be able to shift easily
To provide mutual support where needed.
It helps that the enemy’s supply train
Will become its Achilles’ Heel.
Draw them on with deceptive tactics
And make their time in country hard.
It helps to be fighting on familiar ground.
Like playing war in your own backyard.
Change all the road signs and jam GPS.
Hit-and-run is the plan of the day.
It helps that the world sees your courage
And applauds your will to resist.
The dictator’s boot will get polished for sure
When it’s finally shoved up his ass.
THIS SPACE RESERVED FOR
QUINTUS FABIUS MAXIMUS, CUNCTATOR
Once the job has been defined health and safety can be addressed by carrying out a risk assessment.
Contractors also have responsibilities for preparing risk assessments. Their risk assessment should fit in
with the clients and provide complimentary information. Contractors will also need information from the
client about the job, the state of plant, etc. when preparing their assessment.
Clearly health and safety needs to be managed effectively throughout the project. Client and contractor
need to co-ordinate their activities through effective communication and close co-operation to ensure
that all risks associated with the job are covered.
The aroma of your present
The beauty of your essence
Secures my steps
Woman you got me breathless
I confess that I adore you
I really really really love you
From your spirit first to your soul
Your vision of luminous ordainment
My visual ordinate is sparkled as a diamond
You made me complete woman still I'm breathless
11/15/2020
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2020
From anthology " JUST JESUS "
ODE TO ODES ®
Patterns of raindrops on my windowsills
And a rivalry with the scorching sun
Ordinate and baste me an idea
Light filters through the raindrops
Weary wind pluck me a leaf
Cascading down on the patched pavements
Breakdancing of leaves swirling
Sour and dove into the windy music
Sojourning on a brain pulsing quest
Thunders brought me shivers
And slice the sky and the rain
The cold chill poked me
Like the soft tread of a child's feet after a bath
Resort to my noble comfort
As I broil a memory
To marinate a poem.
VickWizzy
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright © 2014
home work shadows keep leftovers
guests solve random facts
torn pages co-ordinate hedge rows
If I ever meet depression in the physical form
I will inflict more damage than a biblical storm.
Invading my mind like satanic parasites,
feasting on my happiness bite after bite.
I'm hating myself for the person I've become,
I'm helpless to it, pathetic weak and dumb.
Thwarted and fallen, appallingly unproductive.
The torment insurgence transforms me destructive.
I'm useless and failing, increasingly alien,
these aint excuses, it's depression I'm wailing.
I'm left handed, right handed, ADHD,
depression, self loathing and anxiety.
My ambition went missing with drive and dreams,
my confidence in submission to doubt that gleams,
these parasites co-ordinate as an efficient team.
My one weapon is hope, and hope is supreme.
7/6/2019
Mother
Insult a King berate a queen
Even a president in between
Be foolish and ignorant if you must
But to attack a woman is quite simply unjust
Study the moon study the stars
And soon the interest will fade
Why not study a woman a lady
She’s fearfully and wonderfully made
With hands that are strong and gentle
From doing chores that’s never done
Her hair grey too early from too many hours in the sun
Lots of hard times it shows in her eyes
Tongue sharp when needed with words oh so wise
Exquisite poems about world leaders penned
But today it’s about my mum my friend
Her love her life forever in my mind etched
My humble tribute to her, lived not fetched
She is the favoured head of the clan
Still arrange co-ordinate and meticulously plan
She embodies all that is faithful and true
Comes July this year she’ll be ninety two
Famous Last Line
I once knew a poet named Anisha
She wrote poems sipping Mimosa.
She did not care for critics
But she loved Mathematics.
She solved sums on ordinate-abscissa.
She solved sums on ordinate – abscissa,
calculated Logarithms-Mantissa.
She loved Literature
Maths, Science and Nature.
Her Idol was Great Mother Teressa.
03/06/16
First Stanza is original from a Contest and Second one follows.
Famous Last Line Contest
Third Place
Sponsor Laura Loo
Mathematician and Poet
I once knew a poet named Anisha
She wrote poems sipping Mimosa.
She did not care for critics
But she loved Mathematics.
She solved sums on ordinate-abscissa.
02/26/16
Corruption! Corruption! Corruption!
Where is corruption?
Seems tone up statesmen notion
Co-ordinate with gallantry pride exploration,
Somewhere scholar's voice explosion
Solicit grant for idle generation.
Corruption! Corruption! Corruption!
What is corruption?
Working against the soul corruption,
Earning money overdose corruption;
Kissing beloved on road corruption.
Homosexuality in India corruption.
Corruption! Corruption! Corruption!
How to eliminate corruption?
Agitation, law, dialect and compulsion
Could not minimize absolute tension:
To eradicate this sensitive passion,
Must regulate spiritual diversion.
Calm and composed to the core…
What from a boss could I ask more?
Humble, patient always gentle,
On your ethics, you can never fumble!
Path of peace is always your road,
Come what may, you never explode!
With "Just hang in there" your favorite line,
Provided comfort, made me feel fine...
My emails, calls, you would never revert,
Made me feel isolated and lost in a desert,
Untill the day I realized that Lee "Does",
And “actions” things without a buzz!
Boss, friend, mentor, guide! Who are thee?
You always supported me! Thank you Lee!
Complexities- you take in your stride,
You help with grace and zero pride....
You are as special as is today,
Sending you wishes from Bombay,
Today-The last date of this century, do celebrate,
Please accept thanks and wishes from your sub-ordinate!!
Clearly defined that life were once
defined for me ~ announced,
nor evolution's goal, a mobile trounce
I live, nay, not to know your love, but ounce?
Not so, some ailing of assume
I live to love as God would see me through
in knowing you, in knowing you, some flounce
that Hope determines ordinate resource.
Then only love can fill God's planning force,
a power divine from wondering its course
forecast by daily leveraged endorse ~
this day so spent, I merger my recourse!
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