Yes it looks like you're late again
let me guess
you missed the bus you missed the train
then 'Bang!' I heard the front door slam
when you walked away
taking the life out of who I am
here we go again with the same old story
I've already seen this movie and it's oh so boring
not the first time you've been busted
and caught out
with your excuses and can't be trusted
when 'Wham!' I heard the car door slam
then you drove away
driving the life out of who I am
here's that same old song and dance yet I still care
but why do I have to relive this same nightmare
there's always something
drama trauma tragedy no matter what you do
saga stigma calamity no matter where you go
always something with you
wish I had a silver bullet like cupid's little dart
and if I had that magic slug I'd shoot you through the heart
Found the abandoned misused tomb
Metallic and ancient it slept
Airstream trailer, silver bullet
I wandered the forest and wept
Found a rusted knife in the ash
Metallic and ancient it slept
A kitchen tool, left in the rain
It was just begging to be kept
Found a can of neon spray paint
Metallic and ancient it slept
I helped my siblings paint our barn
And at time’s end, away we crept
I’ve got a thesaurus and a gun
arming torpor trigger fingers;
Poetry at point blank range,
silver bullet savage;
Deliberate verse
detonated,
you never
felt the
hit.
As I look into the vast ocean of wight,
here in the shadows of wont right,
left amongst the myriad mellifluously,
will you still hold a monstera like me?
To be this maiden fair — to care about myself,
ore not to mine — opals rainbow in black skies,
heralding a new plateau of what you know,
breaking the shackles of the winter cold.
As I gaze into the bleak sea of night,
hearing sweet edicts of your final rites,
left turning into an arrow without a quiver,
wilt lullabies still paint my death in color?
To sweven this ounce of decadence in my beloved,
my amo mia, my final goodbye to you,
gould by the expire in hot vermillion — and blue,
kiss blew in the mind with lead — me and through.
Sometimes we need to be — golden silence.
sinking putt
kicking butt
sticking shut
humiliating hut
feeling gut
asking what
removing rut
dancing strut
having been cut
muttering mut
becoming nut
News reporter on MSNBC talked about
"Sinking putt" and I thought he had said,
"Kicking butt." Rest of words above also
came to mind.
Seems like cloth masks are a no no.
They are even having metal lined
masks.
What could you add to above?
TV Programs are also great like
77 Sunset Strip, the Shadow Knows,
Done da done done, done da done
done dah, Lone Ranger Rides Again,
Nation Wide on Your Side, Butter Milk
and Hi Ho Silver, Have Gun, Will Travel,
Gabby, Ten-Two and Four, Silver Bullet,
(I used to have a silver bullet pencil
sharpener), The Wave, Just the facts
man, etc. Married dear old dad;
The King and ?; Easter ? Leaf Clover;
Merry Go ? Long ? Short ?
? in a Corner; ? Bill; Donkey and
Elephant; African ? Where is it now?
? Trombones; ? Dalmatians; Merry-Go-?
Eiffel ? If you are an Einstein, what
are you being? Which president always
tells the truth and splits rails;
Name of Masked Man? What do you
do to shenanigans?
When the Lone Ranger has his finger on his gun's trigger, he constantly has to pull it.
When the moon is full, he hunts and kills werewolves, that's why he uses silver bullets.
He also uses silver bullets to stop outlaws from committing crimes.
But he uses those bullets to kill werewolves the majority of the time.
A werewolf smashed his way into an innocent man's house.
He tore him to pieces and was also going to kill his spouse.
The Lone Ranger saved her by putting a silver bullet right between the werewolf's eyes.
Whenever he encounters werewolves, he defeats them, each and every one of them dies.
A werewolf was about to attack Tonto and he would've ripped him apart.
But the Lone Ranger killed the werewolf by shooting him through the heart.
Silver was the Lone Ranger's horse until a werewolf ate him and he was also going to eat Scout.
But the Lone Ranger woke up in time to save Tonto's horse and he blew the werewolf's brains out.
Whenever a werewolf tangles with the Lone Ranger, his life comes to an end.
When the moon is full, the Lone Ranger kills werewolves with silver bullets and he always wins.
I feel like Archimedes building calculus from scratch;
Got a lever I can lean on, but the fulcrum doesn’t match.
You’ll find them on the scoreboard
And every roulette wheel.
They help you cheat at blackjack
By sweetening the deal.
I feel like Isaac Newton making gravity a game,
Setting poetry in motion, riding Kepler’s horse to fame.
They figure into interest rates
to calculate the yield,
And help the fans identify
The players on the field.
I feel like Alan Turing cracking codes at Bletchley Park,
Decrypting the enigma of injustice in the dark.
They calculate the census,
And quantify amounts.
They’re handy for those vultures
Who tally body counts.
I feel like when Bob Seeger sang of bad arithmetic,
And rocked his Silver Bullet Band in Hindu Arabic.
They give a helpful estimate
Of what we’ll have to pay.
Just amortize your mortgage rate
And wait for Judgement Day.
I
Turned into something of a wolfman.
(Sometimes beauty will do that to a man).
In
a dream I was told you lived in a motor home.
Somewhere on the continental divide (so unlike you).
In the frothy whirl of a dream, I was at your door and howled.
It was obvious you weren't home for quite some time.
I stepped inside as if I'd been there a thousand times.
Everything {Just like your mind} in your place was in great disarray.
A single silver bullet embedded in a wicker nightstand.
I never did reacquaint myself with that angelic face.
That turned a man into a howler on a forever chase.
The American way
The only way
The last place on earth
The Last Chance Saloon
The bee's knees
The Great Satan
The silver bullet
The last roundup
The life of the party
The enfant terrible
The golden girl
The ugly stepchild
The man in the moon
The Frankenstein monster
The great white hope
The end
Killer jeans ...
sidewalk recombinant retinal lethal
Hazardous faded denim optics
Mahogany bombshell —
moving target drop-dead beautiful
Double helix ...
T-virus (Tantalizing) traffic stop double take
Gazelle graceful mitotic movement
cause pedestrian pause,
magnetic gawk gyroscopic directional
DNA dynamite dynamics ...
(Double-digit Numerical Anomaly)
Short fuse strutting,
sashay fireworks ... body comely
A chromosomal figure eight 10,
estrogen silver bullet sight no-brainer
Steely sizzle vision ,
sultry slow-motion ...
smoking hot chamber
A DNA pristine, walking dream —
The perfect fit
in a faded pair of twin coarse twill
Fatal attraction struck a coroner pose,
when my hazel eyes told her
that she could do whatever she will
Dyed denim genetics,
chromosomal femme fatale optical
Twas crosswalk balk retinal lethal
Bright rainbow aurora halo
yielded a flatline squint,
at the changing of a traffic light
Pedestrian aorta revival ...
it wasn’t pulmonary pulse optional,
at the DNA eye-sighting
of glow retinal drop-dead beautiful
The Lone Ranger
The silver bullet
Was placed in the gun shot fired
"Hi, Ho Silver wwway!!"
12/16/17
by James Edward Lee Sr
Sipping slow and deep from a steaming cup
of lemoned tea that keeps his rubbery hands steady,
His ever-meshing throat clears and his shaking lips utter agedly...
"Son, a man is as he speaks to his groin.
You are the red staining my now limping heart,
You are the blood running in my now rusting veins,
You are the tomorrow of my now sore marrow.
Go forth to comb the forests of adulthood,
Find that trunk of age on whose ab raise your ark.
Never look too far, there is no such thing as greener pastures,
Gold mines are everywhere and every day is the mining season;
But be wise not dig too far in the wrong places.
Always remember that every time you shoot at the moon,
Expect back a silver bullet…always remember;
Go on little one, live youth to see your days of age.
There’s a deficit of words that shape the world,
When the soul is emptied into words,
The world is rich with beautiful poems;
Write your ode, son of the sun and sing your song.
Should they ask you of where you come from, tell them...
--- A two-shelled tortoise sows her seed on rock.
20/08/17
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
I was bitten by a Werewolf and now I'm undead.
I was a mortal man but now I'm immortal instead.
I'm responsible for many deaths because I'm a Wolfman.
Many people have tried to kill me but they never can.
They never use silver bullets when they fire their guns.
People can never escape even though they try to run.
When I change back to human, I'm covered in blood and gore.
I want somebody to use a silver bullet, I can't take it anymore.
I can see that the moon is full tonight as I look up at the sky.
I'm about to become the Wolfman and more people will die.
Unless somebody does what is needed, things will get worse.
Somebody must use a silver bullet and end this horrible curse.
i cannot rest i cannot dream until my thoughts, they softly seem to drift on over drift away to dreamy landing and you sway. you whirling durvish of vietnam my silver bullet written on.
no inspiration
winter is a lie
a thousand sayings
the damned rise and speak
fortunes and sex
fame and disease
cholera of the mouth
choking pleas
too much thought is burning down
golden paradise
in a book is gone
tv died in the 70’s
a silver bullet
a microchip
lost on the moon
landed in the broadcast
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