"Think of the cold, hard glance;
This is the second chance;
Destitute and impoverished, yet;
You do deserve to dance;
Matters not how you get;
Passage is through regrets;
Think of walking on pomerance,
Lance enhance freelance,
Prance sufferance in advance song and dance;
Hard glance thinking of the cold ground
Frost bitten toes barefooted winter parking lot slam dance"
2/5/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2020 ©
Categories:
slam dance, analogy, assonance, cheer up,
Form: Dramatic Verse
I'm a Zombie girl...In a Barbie world.
My body bag is plastic...It's fantastic!
I creep at night...In the moonlight.
My scars do gleam...I'll make you scream!
My skin is pale...My bones are frail.
I take a chance...When I slam dance!
"Come on Zombies...Let's go party!"
Oh! Oh! Oh! Wooooh! Ooooowooooh!
( Background vocals: "Brrrains!" "Aaarrrgh!" )
"Come on Zombies...Let's go party!"
Oh! Oh! Oh! Wooooh! Ooooowooooh!
( Background vocals: "Brrrains!" "Aaarrrgh!" )
I'm a Zombie girl...In a Barbie world.
My body bag is plastic...It's fantastic!
When you say "Bite me!"...That excites me!
My veins are blue...My brain is goo.
My senses are numb...My lips are plum.
I sleep underground...In a dirt mound.
"Come on Zombies...Let's go party!"
Oh! Oh! Oh! Wooooh! Ooooowooooh!
( Background vocals: "Brrrains!" "Aaarrrgh!" )
"Come on Zombies...Let's go party!"
Oh! Oh! Oh! Wooooh! Ooooowooooh!
( Background vocals: "Brrrains!" "Aaarrrgh!" )
Categories:
slam dance, angst, anti bullying, crazy,
Form: Free verse
Poetry is music
Just words spoken and not sang
Picture the melody
Imagine the beat
You can even dance off rhythm
but be confident when you speak
Words reveal rhythmically your perception of creativity
Poetry is a place where words dance
to thoughts about the day
And the paper is where they rest
until the slam at the cafe
Then like a lion it comes in
and overpowers the beat
Placing periods in places where they shouldn't be
Betraying verbs and. cheating on metaphors with euphamisms and irony
Poetry is emotion and dance and freedom
It's a happy place for the mind and
also a spirtual medium
Poetry is art.
It's what you want it to be
So just write write write
about just about anything.
It doesn't have to rhyme....all the time
If you don't want it to
As long as it comes from the heart
No one can correct you. So Write.
POEMS ABOUT POETRY CONTEST
January 8, 2013
Categories:
slam dance, art, faith, family, children,
Form: Verse
Now hushed bleak sterile corridors
recall the cries, laughter and tears
of those once termed insane;
all is still now.
Rooms behind forbidding windows,
shutters slam-dance lazily in the breeze;
all is empty.
No actual cells, no straw on cruel stone floors
or padded walls,
reality is cracked linoleum and Formica;
all is quiet.
The local Bedlam towers black,
decaying dead slumber,
etched against a red-tinged horizon.
No movement now within the confines
of her walls,
other than upon the evenings of the
Autumnal moon, when perhaps
resonances of the past send strange
drifting spectres to walk the balconies
and pace the grey great hall,
acting out the bygone dramas of this home,
this refuge, Asylum.
Those who would dare to
venture here
on such tragi-comic nights would see;
but no one comes here and no one sees
and all too few care or understand,
for all that is past are now dead memories,
and all that is to follow
is the truest madness...
Categories:
slam dance, death, health, nostalgia, sad,
Form: Blank verse