He is recently becoming a lazy bum
Been drinking the effervescent rum
Ignoring his petite new wife
with a tounge sharp as knife
Harbinger of crazy thing to come
Shrill she shouts and plays drum
Poker faced he lies dumb plum
The neighborhood gossip is rife
Tried all tricks to end their strife
Both not grooving into their fulcrum
Shohei Ohtani is in a league of his own
playing baseball in a whole new zone
He hits home runs a mile
poker-faced, never smiles
Rounds the bases like lightning
his speed almost frightening
And this near-mythical man pitches ‘lights out’ too!
Methinks he's a robot ~ How about you?
The lost doll was soon replaced
by the kind stranger, poker faced,
who said the doll looks not the same,
having changed both face and name
but may yet be by the child recognised,
by its touch tender and smile undisguised
and so by this well intentioned tale spun,
the lost doll and child again became one,
for what was relevant was spirit, not form,
embrace of innocence, beauteous and warm.
Have you seen the poker-faced man holding a deck of cards in his hand? He shows no emotions and displays no surprise but continuously fabricates the world’s most sinister lies.
He gives two personas to present to us all, and manipulates his way into power to hasten our fall.
Unseen, all pervasive, he hides our demise, the Jin and Jang of deception, suppression and lies.
False dichotomy adopting agents of fraud to change our perception and influence our thoughts to believe their deception they hold so dear, and brainwash the masses into the directions they steer.
His hidden hand controls all we know, to escape his web, where should we go?
The poker face man will outlive all of us, but his day will come when he’s turned into dust.
Judgement will rise and will fall, crush his deception, rendering him naked, exposed to us all.
Poker-faced
played his cards
close to the vest
'til the day
he forgot
to get dressed
You were
neither a destroyer
nor a preserver
like Shelley’s west wind.
You were
a native signal
to harvest the taro and tapioca.
You were
a swing for the shore,
and my soul too.
You weren’t
just a parching wind
for me.
My still leaves
were energized
by your verve.
Moon shines.
Henna plant blooms.
Ghost of a love loiters
in the old melody
from a CD.
If you blow now,
a heaven will open
as in the past.
Climate has changed
like generation.
Vrishchika and the present
are passive,
poker-faced.
Season of stirring wind
is no more.
An Ockhi of havoc howls
instead.
Vrishchika,- a month in Malayalam calendar, noted for continuous
wind in some parts of Kerala
Ochkhi – name of a cyclone
First published in The Curlew
Somber Force
Regenerated compassion of brilliant plights
So dark in color or tone, gloomy.
So dull
blacken is the light, blinding is the darkness
So dark in color or tone, gloomy.
So drab, dingy, shady, ever I'm restrained subdued sober severe austere
Blacken is the light, blinding is the darkness
Earnest serious grave robber sober unsmiling poker-faced coffin bearer
So drab, dingy, shady, ever I'm restrained subdued sober severe Austere
So dull
Earnest serious grave robber sober unsmiling poker-faced coffin bearer
Regenerated compassion of brilliant plights such an enlightenment such a… Somber Force
11/13/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
Feeling grown up
On the edge
Older cousins
Invite me
Nonchalantly
To follow them
Into their world
That magical world
They call normal
Hold my breath
Surprised, hesitant, poker faced
I head down the stairs
The basement is dim
Coloured lights in corners
Comfy chairs here and there
Forty-fives spinning
Floating hazy rings of smoke
A scene surreal
I was let in, invited
A notch above a wall flower observer
Taking it all in
Letting it soak in
My future before me
A glimpse of what I’d become
In just a few years
I remember it all somewhat
As a milestone initiation
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
I can turn up that street any time I wish;
I pass that post box frequently enough,
But there is no returning, that’s the twist,
Time’s poker faced, you cannot call his bluff.
The deepest yearning only meets rebuff,
These houses do not greet me, I’m not missed
And the old school where I seldom did enough
To satisfy my teachers has forgot
The bully and the joker and the swot
The cigarettes, the Three Card Brag, the fights,
The wondering how to talk to girls, and what
Might be waiting round the corner out of sight.
To come so far and barely move at all;
To not escape the gravity of things beyond recall.
As I go through
some old photos,
I can't help but notice,
that we must have been
caught off guard,
at times we look tired,
like we just want to retire,
constipated,
or simply frustrated,
poker faced,
or like we forgot
to tie our shoe laces,
(thats the ones
with the derrieres),
or like were in a hurry
and a tizzy,
even look kind of tipsy,
or like we don't
even care,
so from now on,
not wanting to even
see a frown,
I'm going to count to 3,
then maybe per chance,
you all will have a chance,
to smile and say cheese!
The undertaker prepped him voguishly
Like there was a party six feet below
The earth where anosmic maggots
Were tamed by steep fragrance
He is dead, he is dead
Of what use is a tinseling treasure
To the naively rich sands?
The gold plated casket glitters
In the mourner's eyes
How classy is death in its house?
A gang of aggrieved groupies
Hallowed to a one time
Shylock-baron unleashes its ruckuses
At the swanky funeral
They teemed tiny shell
At the casket and in a tick
The casket transmuted into
A gold plated basket
He is dead, he is dead
The bullets ran its errands
Through and through
But death was poker faced
The deceased wife face streamed
Down tears...The triumphant groupies
Prod the remains for mockery
Until wee in the day
When the police came for a sweep
The shylock-baron was in a feast-
Romance with the houseflies...
Until the groupies dispersed
He is dead, he is dead
He who dies once is lucky
But he who dies again has lost his soul
And would be damned
What was his crime?
That he was having
More than he needs.
ENJOY WHILE IT LASTS………
Sparkling like sparkles,
Sunny like mine sunshine,
Bubbly like bubbles in beer,
And frisky like a fizzy drink,
Enjoy while it lasts………….
Gloomy like a cavern,
Morose like a hungry dog,
Poker faced like a poke-weed,
Melancholic like a rejected child,
Enjoy while it lasts……..
The emblems of life,
The sweet-bitter taste of life,
Embrace when sweet and kiss when bitter,
No condition is permanent,
Enjoy while it lasts……….
Sometimes we tumble, plunge, keel and topple over,
At other times we hoist, haul, propel and zoom,
Life is unstable,
Life has got different branches, alleys, tracks, lanes and pathways,
Enjoy while it lasts………….
We run in circles and don’t even realize it,
With so many questions on our minds, surrounded with problems but never solutions,
Always asking but why but not how,
Enjoy while it lasts……..
Enjoy while it lasts…..the twist and turns, the whirls and twirls…..
Life is short…..
As the clock tickles, so does your lifespan,
Sooner or later your life will be dilapidated…..
Enjoy while it lasts……
As drops from the clouds cease,
I stroll to meet a friend of mine
a paper boat in hand, a local boy
runs from the PDS shop queue,
looks for water to sail his boat,
tried in a small dirty puddle,
embarrassed to see,the boat stay still!
tried in the nearby ditch, already choked!
Cursed heavens, a way out of embarrassment!
Looked around little boy, my gaze, he dislikes!
fellow doesn’t want others follow his passion!
I started walking away poker faced,
Fellow jumped with a smile believing
I know not his embarrassment, got into
his fantasy world to try another fun….
Shaking, the restless world leads
How the heart did ponder upon the triumph
Thoughts made unclear, fogged as the heart proceeds
The mind as lifeless as a poker-faced bluff
Clearing the skies as if all were deemed fair
The shattered walls rumble in their slumber
Matte, the world sits as all fire not distinguished tears
The flattened blows and pulse had quickened throughout
Those who've claimed conflict as rational,
Damaged, as an undesired clout.
The signs of passion are poker faced.
I spend my nights in deathly ardor
Digging deep into the muffled dreams
That cry for forgiveness..
I take a puff of the cigar,
And pant quietly, with tears in my eyes
The sullen kisses and the fake good-byes…
The roses dried with my breath,
I fancied love, but God forbade:
The smiles that played hide-and-seek,
Bore my frowns away..
From every stranger who touched my hand,
Promised the plight to neverland;
I mocked my pain and lived to die
In the arms of pity..
The sounds of passion were tricked to silence.
I spend my hours in muted rhythms
Searching more for the truth that lied..
And warned to conquer forgiveness
I take a sip from the liquor’s trench
And let myself go astray
Wished I had died that day..
The violins cry with my voice
I seek to change the devil’s choice
The tears that stoked my conscience
Have found its place in mystery dens
They wander to deliver the day’s omens
I mocked my pain and lived to die
In the arms of serenity
~~Thank You for the reviews and comments~~
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