Short Laundered Poems

Surreal as can be
Laundered now looking bluer
Than the darkest sky...

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Grandmother's linen
Brief look into bygone day
Antique memories
Soft monogrammed sheets with lace
Carefully laundered....

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Like freshly laundered bed sheet,
nature spreads a white silken
gleaming, sparkling, eye blinding
cool earth coveralls.


~11/08/15
~Winter Dodoitsu contest by Heather Ober...

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HOLY---



Holy cleanse vessels without spot nor wrinkle.

Orderly fixed in spiritual and of physical realms.

Laundered flawless immaculate intangibles pure.

Yearning of dexterous proficiency untarnished unsoiled.




1/28/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.2019©...

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What is your favourite smell?

There's the smell of the sea,
The freshly mown lea.

The smell of fresh bread,
And a new laundered bed.

Summer rain is really good,
And the smell in a wood.

A cooking Sunday roast,
And thickly buttered toast.

Which is the smell that you like the most?...

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The clothes in the washing machine, I now pondered
how I might best pass the time, and so I wandered
up a muddy hill, late to perceive I’d squandered
my time, for now my jeans needed to be laundered.

—————

The Awit is a monorhyme quatrain narrative as a complete sentence, with each line containing 12 syllables....

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I remember how
clean his eyeglasses were.
He took care of himself.
and expected people to 
listen when he spoke.

.

With his black,
political, contrasty suit,
scrupulously laundered,
his face was red and
he took large steps.

.

I remember the honor
in his presence,
as if he had some
magical favors 
he could grant....

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Moonshine drapes
 laundered white
  wetting two
   raw appetites
Petite niblets
 morsels of feast
  captured by
   rocking beast
Flash of light
 off window pane
Motherhood tattoo
 nary a shame
Tepid buttermilk
 readied sup
  served in flowered
   demitasse cup
Perched on haunches
 shutter release
Private drive
 now restful peace...

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Where do I begin ~ my memory fails me all the time
I just shake my head although sometimes I do scare myself
but it's truly hard to top the story I heard last week
about my friend who folded her laundered undies neatly
then placed them diligently on a shelf in her fridge
before proceeding to prepare dinner



Read on air by invitation  ~  June 23, 2021  'WORDS & MUSIC'

Posted on June 21, 2021...

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; ; ; ; . . . . . . . ; ; ; ;




tears spill crumpled memories
are they laundered dry?
or rehashed?




* quinzaine is a 3-line poem consisting of 15 syllables: 7/5/3.
    the first line makes a statement,
    the next two ask a question concerning that statement


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Contest: Brian Strand”s “ Whatever"...

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Bleeding Sons of Lucre



Happy Mother’s beam is the Bank;
We lean on cash, our Father’s flank.

In search of it others eschew grime
For easy “one” by committing crime.

(This is Poetry; this is not a Sermon
I’ll not recur on cursing mammon!)

Oily hands stretched for reception
To that you give without deception...

Is “clean” money not so “laundered”
That can be peacefully squandered!


JM

31st Oct’ 2013...

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After a long and stressful day 
Running the bath and adding scented oils 
Watching the bubbles foaming and frothing 
Climbing into the deep soapy suds
Sensational scent of lavender rises
Relaxing in the steamy atmosphere 
Blissfully all my troubles melt away
Drying myself in a soft warm fluffy towel
Climbing into freshly laundered sheets
Sheer bliss!

21st January 2015
~awarded 1st Place~
Indulgence Contest - Shadow Hamilton...

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In the corner of my room 
I have a magic basket
It’s been there for a while, and
Does everything I ask it
When I’ve been out working hard
And the smell is overpowering
My clothes get thrown inside
Before I start my showering
I throw inside my tee shirts
My denims and my socks
I throw all my dirty clothing
Inside this magic box
I only have to wait two days
And I’m happy, just because it
Has laundered all my clothes
And hung them in the closet...

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My thoughts are laundered,
       all soaped up and soaking;
  cold and hot water rushed
       round and round in bubbles. 
Dirty and clean blend in the soup
       swirling in the mixed myriad of dreams;
  lost to its original form and use intent
       faded colors mixing in the froth.
A word spoken, taken back again, slips and slides
       mesmerized by the true reality guides
  of wash and rinse, dry wrinkles unhinged
      as life adheres to the cyclic spin....

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