A coat of light brown and a heart of thread,
Waiting for me on the edge of the bed.
So soft and squishy, a pillowy prize,
With quiet patience and brown button eyes.
With a black little nose and a bright red tongue,
To your comforting spirit, I’ve always clung.
I hold you close when the world feels loud,
Or wrap you in blankets like a terry cloud.
I hug you tight till the worries depart,
And feel your stuffing against my heart.
Sometimes I’m angry and toss you aside,
But Cushy, you never once leave or hide.
I smile at your face when the morning is new,
Finding a comfort that’s honest and true.
I share every secret, my thoughts and my fears,
While you soak up the laughter and dry all my tears.
From your fuzzy ears to your small scrubby tail,
A friendship with you will never pale.
When the day is finally done and it’s right,
I tuck you in with me for the night.
Under the covers, a snug little team,
Floating together through every dream.
Keep us cozy, warm till sun’s light,
My best friend Cushy throughout the night.
To make a light and pillowy kindness soufflé, you need:
two cups of generosity
a tablespoon of compassion
a teaspoon of melted tenderness
and a packet of goodness
Combine the generosity, compassion, and tenderness
and mix until it has an even consistency.
Whisk the goodness and pour it into the mixture.
Cook until golden brown.
Once it has cooled, serve it charitably.
There's plenty for everyone.
To make a light and pillowy kindness soufflé,
you need: two cups of generosity
a tablespoon of compassion
a teaspoon of melted tenderness
and a packet of goodness
Combine the generosity,
compassion, and tenderness.
Mix until it has an even consistency.
Whisk the goodness and pour it into the mixture.
Cook until golden brown.
Once it has cooled down, serve it charitably.
There is plenty for everyone.
A challah is a braided bread -
With butter, it’s delish.
It looks impressive when it’s whole
And waiting on a dish.
But when it’s time to eat it,
Many raise a bread knife - but,
It’s so much better with a piece
Ripped from the loaf - not cut.
I always grab a hunk this way;
Its texture, so enticing,
Is pillowy and soft and doesn’t
Taste the same with slicing.
Here’s one more tip - some bakers
Overstep and are quite brazen,
But to me, it is a shonda*
Eating challah filled with raisin.
*a disgrace
Running fancy free into a field,
Chasing butterflies my path revealed,
My arms outstretched into the sky,
I am so happy--not caring why.
Cooled by a fragrant soft Spring breeze,
I trip and fall down to my knees,
Then wistfully gaze into the sky,
To watch the clouds drift slowly by.
Slowly my youthful mind escapes,
Into their billowy pillowy shapes,
As my youthful imagination rages,
Onto life’s unwritten pages.
I reminisce about these scenes so well,
But to them I’ve had to say farewell,
To blend with the accepted propriety
Of my adult world’s fast society.
Though I mostly do what people expect,
I sometimes upon my youth reflect,
And dream nostalgically of my life then,
Knowing I can never be that person again.
My body is too big
My bones loom over me
and my flesh wraps around them
Heavy like the bricks of a lighthouse tower
The waterfall of my tears posted proudly on a magazine cover
Eighth wonder of the natural world
A thousand miles before it reaches the pillowy ground
My skin stretches over my frame like a canvas
painted with freckles and scars
Enough paint to cover the world twice over is needed to cover it’s expanse
My body lumbers around like I giant when I move
Collapsing in on itself under it’s own weight when I stumble
My souls feels like an ant trapped in the body of a lion
The pins that hold me together are silk needles trying to hold wool
I am a pebble in the body of a mountain, unsure if the wind will whisk me away or if I was ever supposed to move in the first place
I feel bulky and gangly
Shaky and frozen
Filling a room like water fills a cup, cold and loud when all i want is to disappear quietly
Because I feel like my soul could walk through the eye of a sewing needle like a grand palace gate
And whenever my soul feels small
My body is too big
Fielschgenuss erster Gute
They spoke of her as a bedswerver
words that only made it more difficult to
understand why I had become privy
to these conversation.
The Harrows and Quick Hitches were
new and unused. The flail mower
and adapters were put into a postion
so you could see they were in constant use.
the new tractor he painted "lecherwite"
on the door
mats that were custom " Chuck and Duck"
were on the floor. a plum colored pillow with
beautiful embroidered stitches, had a dark
pinkish message talking about his Missus.
" Cuckquean" the stitches spoke a
fluffy pillowy seat. Sweet yeasty rolls
filled with delicious meat.
Back to inventory a label for
the hydrylic mulcher
people are something
now adays seems they lack culture
Only a fool could understand
silly things silly people say
I sprayed some pest be gone
to keep the pest away.
I smiled and asked the Fellow
what did condonation mean
he said if your wife were on yourside
you be on the losing team.
The handle of the hoe to replace
the broken one.
When my wife comes over here
don't laugh when I call her"Hun"!
Wriitten By
Bocal, LongJoint and Keys
A canvas as wide as my teacher, and taller than still
It swallowed the wall whole,
And barely held still inside the frame,
The belly of a whale with it's arms open wide in welcome
The detailed impressions of people
Sinking into pillowy flesh
Inviting, violent, gentle pinks and red
The blessings in my mouth converted
Into the excited bounce in my stunted legs
My eyes, hungry
A child that probably should not be looking
But entranced nonetheless
Art with impurities, mores and values flayed wide
I cup the feeling in small palms
To carry home with me
To carry for the rest of my life
Have you considered, even once
Heaven’s golden throne?
Not the one that God sits on,
The one you use to go.
I think it must be gilded gold
With seat so pillowy soft
That angels sing when you are done
As Heavenly odors waft
There is no need to spray with Glade
Or sneak out once you’re done
For when you poop in Heaven,
Bad odors are undone.
And when you pee, of course, it’s gold
For what else would it be?
It’s used to color rainbows
For all below to see.
When you flush your waste is mixed
In very special vats
To form the colors of rainbows
That light up habitats
Who knew that when you used the loo
In heaven every day
You were creating rainbows
To light your loved ones’ day?
‘Nature’
I lay on the pillowy grass
green needles poking my cheek
announcing their minute presence in my life
The eagles circle my body
watching me lay for seconds, hours, days.
They pass by as the gentle breeze shifts tendrils of my hair to curl up against my cheek, seeking shelter from the wind.
As flowers bloom on my skin,
A silent arrival of new life growing from within me
Slowly, finally,
I become one with the song of chirping birds and rustling leaves.
- Amna Tariq.
In the Fresh Month of April
There is a finesse expressed in a spring step
When flowers unfurl and come out to impress
And release fragrances unique to the nostrils
In the fresh month of April.
Pillowy clouds suffuse grey silken skies,
Bringing with them isolated showers,
Yet she would have us dance until the sun sets
And cherish the moment as if a promise kept
And partake in the frills of romantic thrills
In the fresh month of April.
So, shower away and revitalize the planet,
Unlocking the essence for life’s experience.
And we, light on our feet, limber in the chill
In the fresh month of April.
***
Note:
“April” comes from the Latin word “Aprilis,” which means “to open” and implies youth, beauty, and renewal. The daisy and sweet pea flowers represent the month of April, symbolizing purity, while the diamond is April’s birthstone, representing innocence. The colours of April are yellow, red, and colourless.
Yon dismal grey golden skies;
Puffin pillowy white clouds fly;
Birds shutters streaming by;
Canvas hues of lightening blues;
Hills and mountains labour views;
Streams, lakes and ponds glimmers;
Underneath the yellow golden rise;
Horizon so shine visual kindred sun skies;
6/7/20
written words by James Edward Lee Sr. ©2020
Rain storms, ice crystals and freezing snow
Thick breath vapor as they say hello
Wool sweaters, furry coats and there they go
Footprints melting in the pillowy snow
Cigar's smoke stuck on chilled windowpanes
Grey, white and all shades of frames
Cherry-red cheecks and warm palms
Blankets, wood stove and sweet psalms
shall i wait for his plane to land?
— or meet him midair in pillowy-clouds,
clear the aisles meant for two,
order the finest dinner a steward can zoom,
prepare to feast on fingers and toes,
earlobes and sweet bubblegum lips.
shall i wait for the hail from the air?
— or fly my own airlines to climb aboard
certainly we don’t need two seats, only one
and that one is blushing from all of this touching.
shall I vigorously fly like a drone?
— spying out my love in from Japan
shall he unwrap an early present
i’m wearing red and green ribbons
...he’s wearing none.
~ certainly two stars search the horizon
~ climaxing at the speed of light’s dreams
air pressure certainly entertaining
the clash of thunder and lightning
a show of stupendous energy
for three weeks has weakened my pulse
and my knees.
I hightail to meet my love
in the air, so close and yet
i’ll certainly have to wait ‘til he lands
so he can take me back to the heavens.
12/21/2018
Silent evaporative collection up high
White touches the blue, the spectrums delight
Your presence dictates the mood down below
With oceans and trees respirations you grow
Your gloom makes us weary and your absence brings praise
Working nonstop, both nighttime and day
Pillowy softness at first the pretense
Hollow and void lightning a defense
Surrounding our spaces wherever we go
Sounding off loudly ions explode
Beautiful violence, tranquil and serene
Cumulonimbus electrostatic machines
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