Short Shredder Poems

paper that been seen
shredded inside the toolbox
Mice are everywhere...

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Desk top
Chaos, clutter
Shredder coughs and sputters
No deadlines, no pressure, no work
Clean slate...

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When its thought
To be
All over 
Put me through a cross
Cut shredder 
And store me 
In a cardboard shoe box

When the technology is right 
Re-cycle me 
As a vanilla ice cream pop
With a dark chocolate cover
To be eaten 
And loved 
Just one more time...

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Nine mile water pipe.


Ponosse ergo
Godzilla saw
Liggttraxx
Letourneau g175
Saws fractum 2012 Aps
Forage
18123007007
Chain trencher
Sandvik dd42zie
Hw300
Mega tunnel boring machine
Mb r800dru cutter
Long wall shredder
Dc drum cutter
Roof top water harvesting....

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Shredder aurora
An uni, muenster swisses
into the feta


On the glowing dawn
A gorgonzolaing cheese calls
the moo cow kisses


Meandering thoughts
A pale provolone cuddles
italian couples


3/16/19
written word by James Edward Lee Sr. © 2019...

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Like trembling leaves from a tree
 and waves rushing to the sea
My knees fall from beneath me
 and the blood in my veins stops
  its journey to my heart
You whisper words of sweetness
 then rip my heart to pieces
Like being sifted through a paper shredder
I regret ever having met you....

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Do your words flow freely
without any meaning?

Absent of pondering
without rhyme or reasoning?

Do your poems miss marks
without thoughtful sparks?

Absent in your reading
without releasing your feelings?

Do your regrets hold stages
without tearing up the pages?

Absent of your shredder
without writing it better?...

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books
paint brushes
glitter glue
canvases
paper
sewing machines
balls and toys
bats and mats
scooters and bikes
Batman and Wonder Woman
Red Flyer Wagon
rakes
Two axes and a hatchet
Barbeque grill
Couch, chair, three tables
Microwave, TV, light fixtures
Shredder and Fax machine
Bed, freezer, extra mattress
A three car garage but no room for a car...

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I shoved my fingers into a paper shredder to trim my nails.
But it shredded my fingers and it hurt like hell.
People stare because I have stumps instead of fingers.
I had to give up my career of being a country singer.
Listen to my advice so that my predicament isn't some thing you'll have to endure.
Don't be an idiotic moron like me, if you need your nails trimmed, get a manicure....

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It’s years since I’ve been writing poems
So, searching for a topic,
I sometimes might repeat myself,
The outcome quite myopic.

Of course, there are some subjects that
Require repetition
And when I write, I needn’t ask
For anyone’s permission.

Yet on occasion, what I’ve penned
Is destined for the shredder,
For there’s a poem – same theme, but older,
That’s a whole lot better!...

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One day I saw a ghost leaving
From the house of the dead
His eyes were big and red
With large dark circles 
Around them, he had vampire’s teeth
They were extra long and jagged
At the ends, one bite
Would rip your skin just
Like a shredder tearing paper
When he turned and looked at me
I got so scared that I took 
Off running as fast as I could
Just like the road runner
Beep, beep

FEBRUARY 12, 2021...

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I live my life
on paper trails.

It stacks
back to back
in glowering towers.

It crouches and glares
in menacing reproach

or slides, glides
and scatters far and wide.

It clutches and hides 
treasures, just beyond my reach.

It comes to me on rubber wheels
and leaves in black plastic bags
or dies in the shredder.

Put your ink to paper
and send it on to me.

Perhaps your words
will wrestle their way 
into my heart.

Perhaps not....

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