Cruise ships appear over the horizon
As white
As the crest of tidal waves
Surging to harbor
No I said
To hell with cruise ships
To ride inside a machine
My wife and I
Prefer
To sit beside
The purr of ocean with opened books
Sun on our shoulders all day
A mom in a string bikini
Wrestling her morning pre-teen by his neck
With applied sunscreen
At low tide
I walk half a mile out to sea
On my knees
My wife watches me
A Royal Tern with a black tuft atop his head
Pesters a female until she is exhausted
Or that annoyed
She looks him in the eye
Then lifts her legs
And flies
As fast as her wings will carry her
Straight out to sea
And as far as I can see
She never turns around or looks back
But he pursues
Blind to her wake
He will follow
Over metal ships and the flesh of the horizon
Over the humpbacks of the spouting waves
He will follow her to where the sun and moon
Are born each day
He will follow
To that round shore of the tired spent and nests
Until she rests
And turns to him
Come my love come with me
Let us be one with the sea.
sultry days, Summer sun
budding breasts, bikini
a pre-teen flower blooms
tan skin, baby oil shine
misty water beading
making sweet rainbow dreams
Some Kind Of Misty poetry contest Sponsored by Nette Onclaud July 5, 2025
On the stage, the pre-teen girls
Displayed their hip hop moves,
As sequins sparkled while the dancers
Got into their grooves.
Though just a dress rehearsal,
Make-up gleamed on lips and eyes
And you could spot the older selves
Their bodies did disguise.
Yet even with suggestive thrusts,
Their innocence shone through.
Of grown-up sexuality,
These girls had not a clue.
And that was wonderful to see,
Especially because
My grandchild was among those dancers
Waiting for applause.
Age is over rated
I went from cute and cuddly
To terribly two
In the flip of a calendar
From being inquisitive
To being nosey
From pre-teen
To A TEENAGER
Meandered
Through the military
Into construction
And against the Vegas spread
Married
And became a father
AGE
That sly bastard
Has made me
A grandfather
And a great grandfather
I have taught them all
To spit, to curse,
To love
Even the seemingly
Un-lovable
Age has slowed me down
Stolen my fastball
It has not been able
To wither my wit
Stifle my laughter
Or contain my enthusiasm
I still laugh
Too loud and too often
Too frequently at the “wrong” things
The children and grandchildren
Share their “Papa stories”
Most include mud puddles
A few scars from the jungle bars
H U G E….ice cream sundaes
Getting hit by a baseball
He threw to show you
It wouldn’t hurt that much
To get hit by the pitch
I may be getting “old”
But age had better be ready
When I round third
Headed for home
He’d better be holding the ball
With both hands
Cuz there will be
A collision
Before I’m
Called… “OUT”
Step up and get your Covid jab. Hey, hey!
The devil’s advocate I play today.
The vax is still on trial? Don’t let that sway
your mind against it. Covid we must slay!
A waiver you must sign. Don’t let that weigh
upon your mind. Come on! You’ll be okay.
So what if you feel sick for a full day?
It’s for the common good, Comrade José !
Fatalities are rare. That should allay
your fears despite the areas all grey!
World leaders know what’s best. They won’t betray
your trust in them. Their words you must obey.
And vax your pre-teen too. It’s child play
despite his being safe from Covid anyway!
You’ll get a nice certificate you can display,
and safe from the Pandemic you will stay.
Don’t listen to “flat earthers.” They’re cray cray.
For sure, don’t listen to your gut. That’s so cliché!
Big Pharma never would on people prey
Hear what Fauci’s science has to say!
The vaccine’s GOOD for you, so don’t delay.
Meet Biden’s deadline. Get free donuts. Hurrah!
June 28, 2021
for the Let Er Rip #3 Poetry Contest of John Lawless
It is skimpy
But not indecent
It looks fabulous on a pre-teen
But do not get any ideas
Because that would be creepy
Old women look better in a one piece
And if they are wide they sometimes do better with a skirt
Bikinis are not for everyone
But when I see a yellow polka dotted one,
Look out.
My singing voice comes out
And I am no Brian Hyland
Pre-teen girls with wild
imaginations,
we watched Bandstand*, danced
and pranced our way to
fame--at sleep-overs.
I went pro and
wowed the whole world?
Nope! Not in the
cards—or my feet.
Teaching proved
challenging,
rewarding.
Any
regrets?
None
*American Bandstand--teen dance show, hosted for decades by Dick Clark
Date: May 11, 2020
Contest Title: Diminished Hexaverse placed 8th
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
June 7, 2022
entered in Caren Krutsinger's Diminished Hexaverse Contest
I was starving
in the most middle class, American,
pre-teen way you could imagine.
We were headed to a restaurant
Applebees I think
I was sitting behind the driver
My mother
A phone rang and someone answered it
I could hear panic on the other line
I could picture her saying the words
into her crimson samsung juke...
"Levi was in a car accident"
We took the next exit to head towards the hospital
Confusion
To this day I don't know if I was being sheltered
from the truth
Or if everyone was as lost as I was
Lost
That's how I felt as I wondered
How sun kissed cheeks could look so pale
The cramped waiting room they shoved us in
Wasn't big enough for the words the Doctor spoke
"He's gone"
I sunk in my chair
I was somehow worried my actions would be deemed
Inappropriate
Uncouth
As if there was an improper way to mourn
How was I to know?
I had never lost anyone before.
They say you are blue when you are depressed;
what sort of blue is a depressed blue?
I’ve played so many bluesy Blues
yet, they only make me happy;
I call them bright blues.
Blues of rainbow hues
swirling, curling, twirling in my head;
it’s my favorite color so,
how can I be depressed when I am blue?
Instead I find that my blue is fantasy neon
with shades of creature blue hues.
Blue unicorns fed my imagination as a child;
a pre-teen carnival of blues ran the gamut
of tear-to-elation, sapphire dreams.
Often I would build my bluest schemes
of turquoise and ultramarine.
I found that as an adult, I can’t go wrong with
royal blue velvet; such smoothly soft, ooze blue.
In my downtime, I like to vacation in the
blue tranquility, of an aqua blue sea and
that’s where I find my perfect, harmonic blue bliss.
No, I do not believe that depression is...blue, it is undoubtedly, gray.
They say you are blue when you are depressed;
what sort of blue is a depressed blue?
I’ve played so many bluesy Blues
yet, they only make me happy;
I call them bright blues.
Blues of rainbow hues
swirling, curling, twirling in my head;
it’s my favorite color so,
how can I be depressed when I am blue?
Instead I find that my blue is fantasy neon
with shades of creature blue hues.
Blue unicorns fed my imagination as a child;
a pre-teen carnival of blues ran the gamut
of tear-to-elation, sapphire dreams.
Often I would build my bluest schemes
of turquoise and ultramarine.
I found that as an adult, I can’t go wrong with
royal blue velvet; such smoothly soft, ooze blue.
In my downtime, I like to vacation in the
blue tranquility, of an aqua blue sea and
that’s where I find my perfect, harmonic blue bliss.
No, I do not believe that depression is...blue, it is undoubtedly, gray.
As a child I would never have abandoned
my family, my friends, or my dolls.
As a pre-teen the dolls were put away with reluctance,
because I never wanted them to feel abandoned.
As a teenager I realized I had to abandon
some friends, in order to save myself.
It was not easy, but it was either them or me,
and people become sad when they abandon themselves.
As a woman in love, and a young mother,
I decided to abandon all things that did not aid in my goals.
I abandoned people, places, and things right and left,
in order to be the happiest me I could be.
I am an expert at abandoning things now. I abandon everything
and everyone who takes away from me.
Because I never want to abandon myself.
Written July 15, 2018
Entered: Contest Abandon 2
Sponsored by Brenda Chiri
I bubble and I gurgle,
I’m tangy and I’m tasty.
Unless you stop drinking me,
Because if you do that, you really won’t be able to stand my taste later.
Believe me, I do not care.
I don’t need the few of you who don’t adore me.
Because so many others truly admire my gassy stomach bubbles.
They don’t care that I’m tearing the enamel off of their teeth
In the 1960’s we tried to sell my cousin as a hot drink, remember?
That worked a few Friday nights at parties of pre-teen girls.
My cousin was all puffed up when those commercials came on TV.
I have always been special.
Usually, poured into punch bowls with sherbet ice cream,
Or doled into children’s mouths when they needed their stomachs soothed.
My can is gorgeous; with the contrasting colors, both Christmas-like and bright.
My distant relatives are usually red or brown - crass, harsh, rude even.
Were you around in the 70’s when they used to make shoes using my logo?
Boy, I was all of that then!
A baby in a dream recognized by a smile
A kids playground at square inch
A pre-teen ac-knowledge with knowledge of what's to come
A teen wonders inside his circle most trustful desires
An adult to reach a full potential in a concrete world
An old man nor bitter nor exhausted of a beautiful existence and afterlife.......
White cotton balled Q-tips;
Orangey yellowed fuzzy basketballs;
Purple covered lemon balls, lemon heads;
Melted down into the carpet;
Once a highway in the skies;
Home is where the heart is now;
Wrong-way Jones is left way out;
Salamander Samuel eating raw trout;
Carpet stained by Shout;
Pre-teen agers learning to make out (What!)
Melody played by a museum;
Gases arranged by Albert Texan;
Opera souring panes;
Wrong-way Jones spilled his lemonade;
What's all this walking in this room about. . .
Carpet stained by Shout;
written by James Edward Lee Sr.
March 18 2014
Mom you have been there for me countless times,
When i need a shoulder to cry on,
When i need to just vent,
When i just need a laugh.
Mom, you are my best friend,
When i’m heartbroken or lost or even confused,
You know what words to say to make me feel better,
Without you i’d be lost and alone.
You mean the whole world to me,
I can’t imagine what i’d do without having you in my life,
Thank you for taking me in as a young pre-teen.
You’re the mother I never had growing up.
You have helped me through everything.
Happy mother’s day mom!
I love you.
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