The strings of my Stradivarius
have waited too long
for you
Crows are breaking the sky
with frantic, angry feathers
and lawn mowers cut straight lines
with the raucous killing of sound
Quieter, more sinuous
strings should fill the thirsty air
Play ‘Promontory’
by Trevor Jones and Randy Edelman
so I can feel
the meaning behind things
through metal
and resonant wood
You control the bow
like a desperate, dying dancer
creating new colors
through the rubbing
of horsehair to steel
and goat gut
Beautiful things sometimes come
from raw origins
That I were your Stradivarius
when I need a little pick-me-up, I think of happy memories with my kids
Your
Beat-up
Pick-up truck,
With the rattle
Somewhere deep inside,
Carries me through the night.
The windows are down, the scent
Of the day's petrichor is strong;
I've seen something new today, I feel
Like the child who once craved your attention.
But we've changed, the truck isn't silver -
Today, from now, we're eye-to-eye.
Our work, bills, meaningless things -
Whatever comes to mind,
I smile and laugh
It all away
In the back
Of your
Truck.
In the garden, roses grow,
how to pick one? I don't know.
People bloom in every space,
how to choose one special face?.
Life is waiting, wide and free,
how to pick your destiny?.
Clouds will hang within the sky,
how to make them pass us by?.
When the heart holds pain inside,
how to find a place to hide?.
When you tumble, falling down,
how to rise up from the ground?.
Pick the rose despite the thorn,
know the truth that life is born.
Choose the one in tune with you,
steady, loyal, and true blue.
Life is hard to pick, it's true,
just be proud of being you.
Help the ones you love along,
when you're weak,
and when you're strong.
Let the clouds live in the sky,
though they pass,
and time goes by.
Falling down is part of fate,
rising up is never late.
Grab whatever you can hold,
stand back up, and be quite bold.
Carl’s frequently picking his nose
He's saving it, as does twin Rose
They now have a huge pile
Of dried snot, it's so vile
And daily their collection grows!
Their mother found the pile of snot
And deftly removed the whole lot
Carl cries, Rose starts bleating
"That snot was for eating"
Their mother does not care a jot!
What season I love best?
The answer's easy as can be.
Summer tantalizes with its many luscious charms.
It explodes with abundant love and life.
Summer is my favourite... many reasons why !
AP: 3rd place 2026
little ghost moved to a cozy shed in Ireland one fine October day
He was tired of being bullied and teased, to him this was not play
why do others pick on me? He asked his jack-o-lanterns with a stare.
But they did not and could not reply, for their voices were not there.
PICK UP
Pick up the bottom
As the top on its side
The horizon coping
Yet, broken skies cries
Grounds unending,
Rips and cracks open
The top is picked
Though the bottom lifts
Down is up, and up is down
Pick up the bottom
1/12/26
Written by James Edward Lee Sr. 2026©
Gingerbread cookies baked just right.
Tall cold glass of milk to complement.
What a great afternoon treat!
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
Love is a harpoon
Joy is a spinning umbrella
Grief is an empty suitcase
Hope is steam above tea
Love is a gun
Love is a sledgehammer
Anxiety is a pencil sharpener
Relief is a freshly made bed
Fatigue is a half-buttoned coat
Love is an ice pick
Love is a bonfire
Gratitude is a signed playbill
Resentment is burnt toast
Shock is shattering glass
Love is a ship in a bottle
Mr soldier
Drop your weapon, your gun
Here is not a war zone but a city
Use your wisdom, ain't you educated
Harassing a civilian, instead of protecting them
Your duty is detecting the criminals not a commoner.
Mr soldier
You're not stronger than the people
You're only armed and authorize not the mighty
Drop your arrogance, it's not important
Stop the intimidation and pick up humility.
Mr soldier
I've got so much respect for you
Defending and protecting our nation
From oppositions even amidst dangers
But I despise oppression
Humiliating an innocent citizen.
You're stuck in a dilemma from the way things seem
Through our friendship alone we've always been a team
I'm just one of the apples sitting in an apple tree
There's really no guarantee that you would pick me
There's always the torture of picking one out of reach
So many to choose from like the shells on a beach
My apple is no different from the others on this tree
If I had to pick I'll choose the one closest to me
To put in all that work to go after one you can't gain
Only to bite into it to find rejection and pain
We're different apples but share a common seed
In some way, form or fashion we fill the same need
Taking your time is the best way to know if it's ripe
I might have a dent that's true but I'm your type
You climb latter's trying to go after the most shiny
I'm the sweet one but you keep passing by me
I hope time doesn't pass and I start to decay
Picking my apple would be the best decision mad
Pick up your oar, sweet -
And row by me forthwith
Away from the huddled reeds;
Away - away, my intrepid!
The canyon rim keeps us
And also the foot of time
And sufficient tenderness
To carry us on wave and whim.
What will we find further on?
Jesus and the angels expect
What lies on the horizon
So let's go there on account.
Wonder why dearly creatives are really gruff
Ponder artists fright...why they're in a right huff
As if their plight wasn’t nearly hard enough
Now AI picks alright clearly nicks natives stuff
Copyright blight.. tight AI guys fight with trite guff
Won’t share …it’s unfair…don’t care..life’s tough
Your ”off the cuff”.. they lazily buff.. crazily turn to fluff
Like a stranger getting your lover or wife up the duff
Red hot bot rot danger is rife but still they will just bluff
Strife..this lot don’t give a jot ..another blot we must rebuff
Muster the puff to bust their bluster..off they trot..play rough
Stand tall..together they’ll fall..grab by their neck’s scruff
As sagacity…loquacity.. bodacity & veracity techs nab & snuff
Authentic becomes drab identikit wrecks..cultures these vultures scuff
These AI fingers lingers in everyone else’s pies…Nuff is a Nuff
Yep and I can hear in my ear.. dear old.. Brian Clough chuff
“That’s Bloody rubbish”
AI guys lies..snaffling then raffling is baffling…but surprise surprise in the buff…it’s total shruff!
Peg slapped Bill on the side of his head,
he said he saw a rat moving under the bed.
That is not a rat honey,
but harmless dust bunny.
Bill would rather have had a rat instead.
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