Short Folded Up Poems

Devil Mask

It was late in the evening
When he bore his devil mask
Just the typical proceedings
With a candle and a flask

He tore down all directions
Until the stars grew old
Then he folded up the darkness
And let in the cold...

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My footwear in hand,
Trousers folded up to fend,
Dunk in tide I stand,

Unsteady a bit,
Sands under feet digging pits
When two huge waves hit

Splashing sea water,
Wetting me and all my wits,
Clueless I totter.
___________________________
Haiku |30.06.2021|...

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He keeps a locket of her hair
Folded up in an envelope 
From the days she was there
Before that's all she wrote 

He pulls it out from time to time 
Finding time to reminisce 
About the time they shared a life 
Along with a kiss

And just as fast as all that
He slides it in the envelope 
Thinking back to the time 
Before that's all she wrote...

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"Clean shaven memories remain
stuck in silence waiting to scream"

Voices sing out in adulation
inflections bending an ear
float me off   to be
lit eye interior arranged
to be blown away 
with heavenly wings

Candlelit flickers imagine 
soft breeze kisses  await
crisscrossed oceans and moonbeams 
aired along whispered dreams
folded up neatly
cascading my way...

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Amour,

A little letter for you,
And a few words to state the sweet obvious.

Keep the love I write of folded up in paper,
Our origami correspondence, if you will.
Swallows, ravens, cranes and swans,
Enough for an aviary of everything you ever need to know.
Un-caged, un-clipped, unending,
Free to the parchment blue.

Mon amant comme un oiseau,
My lover like the sky. 

I remain yours....

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Sad, sad little paper bag
No one brought you to school
Nobody listened to the crinkle
Of a sandwich being lifted out of you 
Folded up and left in the junk drawer 
All hope was lost, deflated and defeated 
Until, one day, some little hands
Drew your eyes with black marker
On your bottom, and made you anew 
Little green scales, some red and yellow
Hooray, the day has come! All hail!
The dragon that guards the tea party!...

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The old man's dipping bread.
An earthy porous piece.
He's plunging in his coffee
and drawing forth in peace.

And when he's sipping from it,
he's weening at it's lip.
His thoughts befuddled actions.
His stare a slow, dumb dip.

His sip is quick and quickening.
He's quick to raise his cup.
His last sip before leaving-
His paper folded up.

A shadow of a man
that's left within the room.
A quiet hush around it.
A ghost he's left to bloom....

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What's in the closet
Betty Davis old wired hanger
in the upper left hand corner spiders web
on the floor by the baseboard a mouse hole
and on the closet shelf an folded up patch quilt blanket
Grams old fur rabbit coat
nestled tween the raincoat and dad's work shirts
ragged old hoody
Mothballs scented smell entire closet a memory of useful things now hidden away

7/9/19

written by James Edward Lee Sr....

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Water in a bubble bath
Forms a tide
A ring of salt
When the plug is pulled 
If baby oil is used 
And the towel won't dry
If it is folded up for aesthetic effect 
And the milk goes sour
And the butter melts if they are not put back in the fridge
Dishes don't wash themselves 
And laundry goes foisty if left in the machine 
I know this and so do you
Yet you persist 
Well played mam 
Check mate
You win
But I love the smell of bleach on skin...

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In my life, many poems I have written
And never have thought about quittn'
Why when you are as great as me
Many more poems people want to see.

Yesterday was when I started to reminisce 
What most about my poems will you miss?
And how long could you be contemplating?
Over length of time you must be waiting.

No matter what I so surely must confess
After each of my poems you will caress
Many a message they will have sent
After being folded up and then being bent....

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Astraea
The Starry One

While they slept
she folded up 
her two sisters
between two great wings
holding them tight
like she was protecting them
on the LA Metro Red Line.

The next day
nothing happened to them
while they walked to work.
A few feathers fell
which others
picked up and slid 
into purses, pockets
or hair.
She awoke 
in an empty warehouse-
Los Angeles Street-
and waits,
nearly bound, struck by daylight,
no longer a star-
barely a goddess....

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I guess you saw the note on the door
And the clothes all folded up on the floor.

I was going to leave before you got home.
It’s easier to leave when I’m all alone.

I guess the neighbors called when they saw the movers pull in,
And I don’t have to guess where you’ve been.

Yes, it’s plain to see.
I don’t even want to know if you still love me.

I’m leaving today!
Theirs nothing left to say.

I know the tears you cry are not for me,
But for a love that use to be....

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My mah jongg buddies came today
(We’re 5 if all are able)
And thus it was my turn, as host,
To prep the folding table.

It mostly lives behind my bed,
Its metal legs tucked in,
Where it just sits and gathers dust
Until the games begin.

We play but once a month and then
We rotate where we meet
And when the table’s center stage,
The set-up is complete.

The game is over, friends have gone;
The table’s bedroom-bound,
All folded up and tucked away
Until the next go-round....

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