Short Memos Poems

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Memos To Myself

I write so many
Notes to myself...that perhaps
I’m only lonely!
...

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"Food is our common ground, a universal experience." - James Beard 

Spice-sweet-sour-salt-starch-blended 
dumplings, like dim sum... 
Fish, meat, or greeneries filled
enzyme-fiber-mixed
nutrient cuisines... 
They thrill my
tongue...
...

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Jessica James, oh what a name!
She sits in her window like a flower in a frame
She pushes out contracts, memos and letters
Is it true what they say that no one does it better?
When the long day is over she speeds to her abode
Ignoring every traffic sign posted along the road...

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a pomegranate’s
split vulnerability –
chinks in the armour

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an autumn sunrise –
a bird’s melodious song
breaks the morning hush 

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September memos –
sporadic lightning scribbles
on congested clouds

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Magazine Madame measures mammoth mackerels
Manipulating measurements, marking misguided memos
Momentous mistakes moves and muffles meager mackerels
Manufactured mutilated memo mystifies many, milking money
Magazine magistrate Marine Morey measures mackerels
Making meticulous memories, mimicking Magazine Madame...

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company memos are flowing out
escaping like fireflies in July
overly communicative
no confidences now

leaking information
losing credibility and integrity
hoping for likeability
worlds worst employee

no confidentiality
lack of professionalism
she has put our company at risk
jeopardizes our future and her own...

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Just like a new ocean 
Rushing into my wall
Made me lose control
To say that I love you so...

I’ve heard your kindly words
Making me feel a golden one
But know back in my life
I have just memos 
Making me feel one more
In your big world

Just like a king
Loving his own queen
Made me lose control
To say that I love you so......

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Eating my microwaved Salisbury steak 
Pretending winter is gone
Saving pennies to move our trash from A to B
Humming a sad little song
Writing memos and signing them well
What would happen if I actually fell?
Arguing religion with a guy from Maine 
Taking my mind off the constant pain
Stepping out in the cold to smoke
Laughing life off like a joke
Tomorrow is the same as today
So I guess I might as well stay...

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When the pagesof my years are turn
Doubt not much about the lost years
The tears,the wears, and the running fears
I could have been any man but not
Myself i am but myself
In love of thought and pen points
I hold a flame to dark night 
And light with light he moon light
And when the sun is up about heaven
I try a smile for frown path
Reckon a good is good of righteous self
As the path of moon and sun never meet
And a glad heart is a precious thing
That few a man would but need...

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