Fame and football
This morning, a British newspaper read
On the net, a news item was written about a family
called Beckham, a son who wanted to leave
and find his own way
I thought the story was irrelevant and fit as
a news item
The Tv evening news in Portugal showed
the same story, with photos of members
of the afflicted family; one can say it was
a banal story that often happens in families
and often get solved by time, and why would
That story interests viewers in Portugal
It has later been pointed out to me that
A Beckham was a famous footballer married
to a woman who used to be on TV.
Fame is like a red wine spot on a carpet
It takes years to rinse off and get on with life
Love is like a dirty Dish Cloth
Rubbing on cups, plates
washing them making them clean
Rinse off the dirt grime
placing them in the strainer
clean unsoiled stands tall and dry
I'm like the dishes
dirty soiled God the dish cloth
washes me over
embraces me in hand washed
my sins has been rubbed out now
10/7/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. ©2019
potty train
small brain
to loo
till through
turn light
on bright
pee or poo?
one or two?
wee boy
has toy
great fun
small bum
wee kid
lift lid
on stool
hold tool
small wee
big pee
shower
power
aim, fire
no! higher!
whoops, missed
mom pissed
kid frown
sit down
boo hoo
no poo
big push
wipe tush
now flush
big gush!
old rule
close stool
small sink
succinct
faucets turn
don’t burn!
soap cup
wash up
scrubba dub
(not in tub)
rinse off
small scoff
towel dry
give a try
shutoff light
outta sight
repeat
so sweet
lesson learned
didies burned
I am here behind a closed door
Looking clean and gleaming
Oh my what is that smell I just got a whiff
smells like curry hope I am dreaming
They won't knock of the excess from the plate
The rice gets in my tubes and makes me hick up
The smell makes my motor lurch
Before you stack them, I shout, scrape it off
In come the dishes and bowels they used
Nothing is worse for me than cold curry for sure
Stuck to the plates , my work will be hard
Why don't they eat jelly, so soft so pure
Oh they turn up my programme
Will be sweating in here
All they needed to do was, rinse off the debris
Life would be simple why don't they hear.
Ok sauna here we go,round and round I spin
Geez I am dizzy, rice everywhere
Every orifice it can get in
No thoughts for me the worker, they don't care.
My work is done
gleaming dishes once more
My head is still aching,
Please, no more dirty dishes to abhor
penned 10 September 2015
THE BRUSH
I stand in my shower covered with soap.
I rinse off alone. I feel out of phase.
I see the brush hanging there by its rope.
Unused it has hung for many long days.
Used by Dianne, caressing her body.
It gave pleasure while cleaning her back.
The brush explored, sensual not bawdy.
Its use she applied with love and a knack.
I live my life much like that of the brush.
No longer do I caress her with love.
Nor give her pleasure, making her blush.
For now she looks upon us from above.
Today all alone, we both try to cope.
I covered with soap, the brush on its rope.
As these clouds keep surrounding, my space
I keep walking
Until, I've fallen to deep
Hoping and praying
I have a reachable hand
A ladder, some way up
I wish drum-fires, thunder-cracks and twisters
Would leave me alone
I wish my roses
Had no thorns, as they leave me bleeding
In so many places
I try to rinse off
Deep, deep in the ocean
Rinsing all these scars
I keep collecting, day by day
As, I lift up a voice and caterwaul
Take away my fever
Stop letting me, tumble
Stop receiving my blood
Each and every way I fight
Causing me to lose, my field of vision
Deep in these clouds
These clouds, surrounding my space
My only space
MOONLIGHT MADNESS
The moon falls out like a secret above the frisky clouds
Daylight and night the stars come in crowds
Like a glistening diamond, I can't stop staring
Mixed-up in that moment that has no time sharing
Holding onto the tip of the tree limbs like a puppeteer
I can hear the words the moon whispers into my ear
TONIGHT!
I will illuminate into a world only I know of
My very own little secret sparkling island getaway
A world where beauty hides the beast
I'll be the only exile under a sunless night feast
TONIGHT!
I'm going to pass on all my secrets away---
As I have on my dreaming moonlit gear
Comfort upon this mundane wonder, astronomical sphere.
TONIGHT!
I looked one last time at the mooned night
I will close my eyes, and find myself in a box kite flight.
TONIGHT!
I will lay myself down to sleep,
Not allowing my imagination to rinse off with wild sheep
Like a Nightingale, I rather sit and serenade myself to sleep
With the refreshing thought, the moon is like the pillow I keep
In this mad, mad world!
The moon seems to be the only object that holds it's sanity
Arousing me with it's inner peace and spirituality
I long for passion mixed with comforts sort,
awaiting warm welcome from this delight,
I count with words of romance this effort,
and hope to see a love that shines so bright,
yet war intrudes and I must leave to fight,
my heart is slashed,rebuffed and left to rot,
I toil and try to rinse off dusty thought,
but meet a brick wall lined with hatred`s thrill,
to keep our love in progress this I fought,
for war has filled my hands and head with steel.
Meter Form:Iambic pentameter
No matter how much you rinse off your hands,
You can never erase what's on my mind,
I cant stand those hands,
The same hands that held her her hands,
I badly need your touch,
But the pain in my heart is too much,
It would have been essential,
For I to have amnesia,
I wouldn't remember the way you smell,
I wouldn't see your fake smile,
It's driving me crazy,
That she was so lucky,
I cant let go,
I cant move on,
Am tattered,
Am wasted,
Am so lonely,
Am scared,
My body is so shaky
Renewal
Stiff spring wheat, still frosted with memories of Winter’s icy hand,
Poke a head out, and rustle the all clear!
Red Winged Blackbirds send musical greetings to each other.
Loyal sentinels, back from their journey south, sing tall tales,
with friends joining in chorus.
Over the next hill, venturing into the field for the first time this
Spring, a young lad searches for his favorite ball he lost in the Fall,
afraid to tell his Father it went missing….
With a THWUCK! Happily it releases from the mud! Ready to rinse-off
And fly again!
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