Short Egg White Poems

transparency
egg white runs down clear glass bowl....
dew 'pon daylilies     ...

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I am still contented
I gaze at your sun
crack the yolk
you're no so egg white
my instincts demoted
the peaceful ones may stop the war
the one i am indifferent to





...

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   It does not grow in the ground
     in a bush, on a tree

   No animal's beheaded
     Or fish netted
   It's seldom shredded

   Makes a perfect meal
      prepared as requested

   Symbol of life in the world
     Yolk inside egg-white ~ mysteries swirl
...

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Bastardizations of a good night;
Sullen moonlight pours recklessly through blinds,
Sickened stomach turns,
Eyes rill and flutter egg-white visions.

Shuffle:
I am a joint rolled from Bible paper,
A blood blister in a hemopheliacs mouth. 
Deal:
You are an inkstain of poetical nonsense,
A burst pipe running lengthwise through brain matter:

The entire ****ing world....

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The Baker’s glazed the brush today
the vine, the grass, the trees
He’s covered every conifer with
protection from the breeze

The Baker’s glaze like clear egg white
drips sugar upon every twig
His frosting covers the mountainsides
no boulder is to big.

He top-dressed all the architecture;
He’s polished the asphalt.
The Baker’s glazed the world today
He’s given it much thought....

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We’ve not dreamt the crystal morn,
the tinkling ping of sun warmed ice,
the egg white branch of lilac dipped,
the magic of the wintry day 
which fills the heart with awe.
Such days of silver ice and blue white snow 
the lancing spears of ‘cicle formed
awake are we to majesty, that all too soon is gone.
Gone in graceful austerity, a loveliness all its own,
the white of skeleton, these beauteous bones....

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COPLA TRES (THREE):  This Bad Guy World

Bad guys signal to each other
In cryptic lingo and hand signs
Close ranks bind ties

Egg-white eyes of the murderer
Encroach the pupil with designs
Embryo dies

No worse enemy than the friend
Who feigns being a bosom pal:
Snake in the shoe

They know their role is to offend
Their lives but ephemeral
Do they yet rue

            (Continued from COPLA DOS)

© T. Wignesan – Paris,  2013...

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The color of my eyes brown;
The color of the soil beneath my feet, brown;
The color of my skin tan-medium brown;
~
The color of my spirit soul
Is silver and gold
~
The color of my heart beet-red (beats red)
The color of my brain is egg-white tan
The color of my God-

































Everything!!!




7/7/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2021©...

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Oh, I've dreamt of the crystalline morn
where the tinkle of ice melts, as the day's born. 

In my sleep I've seen the lilac boughs dipped
in ice like egg white upon each buds tip. 

Panes of glass with frost with doilies adorned
each melt in the sun, their passing is mourned.

As I rise, I see my dream's come to pass...
I stare from beneath down out through the glass.

Such is the magic of Winter's white days
when all of nature is a frosted bright glaze....

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Just get some cream, grenadine, egg white, and dry gin.
A cocktail shaker with cracked ice is where they go in.
Strain that concoction into a stemmed glass.
There you have a drink with a lot of class.

The name may come from a Broadway musical.
That musical was written by Ivan Caryll.
Other stories of its origin continue to exist.
It’s another cocktail that comprises a long list.
The drink is an old one that maintains popularity.
This cocktail is known as a “Pink Lady”....

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