Salamanders Poems

suggestible thirteen year old girls

many girls at thirteen want to be seen as unique
declared amazing in their attributes
appreciated for their individuality
then Susie wears a polka-dotted frog hat with roaming eyes

six roaming eyed frog hats are purchased the next day
Jenny brings her salamander in to show him off.
the pet store has a rush on salamanders two days later
girls at thirteen are often highly suggestible.

professing they want to be totally unique
unlike everyone else, and yet,
striving to be exactly the same as girls they admire
thirteen is a year of confusion
where peer pressure pack mentality often trumps individuality

REVISTING VOGON-

 Heey! What' soul up freddled googlefort,
Thy salamanders  burst of crust lavishes mee
See
The dawning flightiest of dis missive
Vogurest blight
As daunting flights winters height dawns the light
In the night
Planetary burg vogo by vogon 
Vogon blight
A kill veal legions loft
Olt left is the being of the vogon soul dance in the vira so
Zionary sighted-blite
Revisited I now remember Vogon pronounced plight?
Planetary Gibberish

2/14/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2024©

Old Oak Tree

A stream flows by the ancient oak, a steadfast soul remains,
A heart of the forest, a living log, a cover that still sustains.
The redwood of old growth, a verdant menagerie,
Simple in its English name, yet rich in its legacy.
My lowly view,
Navigating slippery slopes, salamanders in their hue.

They dart in and out of holes, in the clay they seek Refuge,oid debris, their world they won't subdue.
The forest boasts of many kinds, each with its unique feature,
The young maintain their heritage, with the plantation as their teacher.

Expecting watchful eyes, some wear their feelings on their face,
Their composure reveals their thoughts, their feelings they can't erase.

In nature's design, many depend on the old oak's shape,
Each creature with a purpose, none existing out of place.
Some salamanders are short, thick-headed and round,
Living and dying inside the wooden cavity they've found.

Others, with huge heads, delve deeper inside,
Breathing in the oak's heritage, rooted and never denied.
And as she watches from afar, she can't denie that those large
Head's can't get inside of what she feels inside.

After the Rain

After the rain, there are puddles;
After the rain, there are worms.
There might be some salamanders
Venturing out on the berms.

After the rain, some see rainbows;
After the rain, some see slugs.
There might be dripping umbrellas
Soaking your floors or your rugs.

After the rain, plants are happy;
After the rain might come sun.
Then there’s a time we’ll be waiting 
Until the next cycle’s begun.

Dark Woods Clear Water

The woods burn dark with heat.
The tree's have broad tops
That are sharp and winged.

As if they were named Ariel.
Green moss drips yellow water
Drop by drop.

Inside out their curved beards.
Old and new are entwined, together
Apart, as if green,  each bush is.

Water yellow,
Flows from her, thick with fish.
Tadpoles and frogs,
Stuck in the necks of the storks.

Snakes large and larger still,
Where any could see, no one does
Or nothing of this is spoken of,
Because.
Smooth and round the swamp in length
Is.

Feeling the squirts, fifteen or twenty,
pulsating each time, flowing from
Away into the dark yellow swamp water.

Roots twist into the thick, callused,
Bruised flesh.
Mirrored in the warm, humid air.
Shaped as if an hourglass,
Caught in between, the middle.

Going in and out,
Are the long dark salamanders.
And then comes sleep.

Through the Old Oak Tree

A stream flowing through the old oak tree is still alive.
The heart of the forest (wood which has lived to long it is, unexpected obstacle, this living log
and complicated cover which I lowered)
of rich redwood of old green growth
the menagerie where these forests are in English it is simple.

Once of the lower order I climb up to be exchanged.
Decrease slippery many salamanders for example,
going in and out of the mouth of holes in the clay.

Fighting it depends on the rough ligneous wreckage.
Many kinds are compared to the forest
where the plantation and other young person maintain
social structural their heritage and are managed,
at least temporarily.
It is expected some watching while a few others
all over one maintains their feelings, facial composure.

Being natural, the dependence of many more of the same
but different shapes to the feature of the old forest.
Some salamanders are short thick headed and round.
It lived and died inside, the wooden cavity of the oak.
Others with heads to huge were lowered deeper inside.
Before, perhaps, it's empty when full catching breath because
of the heritage which remains there it is there rooted mainly.

Animals

Animals
Animals love us, 
and we love them, 
So take action 
to save the same.
Big cats from the African savanna 
or Orangutans from the Borneo forests,
the world if full of creature
found only in places rarest.
Birds also are important, 
Some are found in American woods,
But I found many, right in my neighborhood.
Amphibians and reptiles,
all lay eggs,
many of them
may dare to eat cleggs!
Ostriches, beavers and caribous,
drakes, eels and kangaroos,
quails, seals and camels,
arboreal animals and mammals.
Moles, sharks and rhinoceros,
fawns, parrots and hippopotamus,
Polliwogs, does and baboons,
Salamanders, budgies and racoons.
Animals of every kind and more,
so go out there and explore!

I Cried

for all the dying butterflies

for all the leopards gone

for all the tusks of elephants

for all the lost bird songs

for all the frogs and salamanders

for all the fish and fowl

for all the deeds that man has done

and the shame I carry now

I sat within the center of the clear-cut

and cried.


                                                       mankind, 
                                                       maybe the first 
                                                       oxymoron?

Sluggishly Different

Enough of golden daffodils, romance and paths not taken
Let's lend poetic airing to a subject quite forsaken.
An opportunity's emerged to give a little plug
To that much lambasted creature called the common garden slug.
Though snails have stirred the poets' muse on many an occasion,
The slug has been subjected to a poesy evasion.
No poet worth his salt would waste much time on this intruder;
A slimy, homeless gastropod and shameless gunge exuder,
Repellent garden wrecker with a squirming gloopy tail
Which lathers lubrication in a sticky winding trail.
But just to be contrary have you ever stopped to think
How an absence of these creatures would create a mighty stink?
They go about their business eating signs of plant decay
And help the ecosystem in a beneficial way.
The hedgehogs, frogs and badgers, salamanders birds and shrews
Would view their disappearance as quite catastrophic news.
So next time you are tempted to dismiss them as a pest
Take pity on the homeless and give naked slugs a rest!

20.05.20

And Now For Something Completely Different Poetry Contest
Sponsored by John Lawless

Frogs Toads Salamanders and Newts

Story of frogs, toads, salamanders and newts   
Crocodiles, seals, beavers with flutes.
These cold-blooded moist skins
Amphibians with twins
Live on land and sea in custom wet suits

Spring

dusky
salamanders in the spring
pure water

Rubezahl

Once whence the wind was roaring,
Atop the highest mount where the rain was pouring,
There stood in cloak a peculiar presence,
Of man whose nature is wood in essence. 

Bellowing blows of gust blew from beneath his garb,
Where he held and waved a wand tipped with a briery barb.
I saw him when I clambered up the wicked climb,
To the top of the cliff where Rubezahl spends his time.

Seeing me see him he laughed and winked,
And was gone in a flash of the dark in a blink.  
After he slipped from the grasp of my eyes,
He whispered from the ether: "You are the same as I."

That was my first of encounters with the fairy folk,
In which one spoke 'fore it snuck away in a smoke.
For I've seen undines and sidhes and salamanders too,
Emerge from the mist 'tween what light passes through.

Always a Poem

drinking 
from a clear spring
with curled fingers
shadowy salamanders
always a poem is coming

On a Wet Country Road

I’d hoped some salamanders
Would be crawling on the road,
For a downpour in the country
Makes them exit their abode.

But I haven’t seen them lately
And I looked with every tread.
What I noticed, though, were lots and lots
Of slimy slugs instead.

Like the worms that they resemble
They enjoy the ground when wet
And emerge from ‘neath the soil
With each chance that they may get.

In my youth, a salamander
I would lift up by the tail
But there’s not the same attraction
To this skeevy shell-less snail.

Clean and Clear

Shortly after studying consciousness for a few years, It dawned on me why going with my grandfather to clean our pasture spring was such a strong memory.

grandfather
tossing hat on a branch
kneels

As I watched the brown leaves and small limbs being cleaned out, I dimly understood that this was a kind of truth, which I finally realized a few years ago. Cleaning the spring I felt was similar to clearing the detritus from consciousness to experience the clarity.

red salamanders
clean cold clear water
bubbles from source

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