As cock of the walk and feeling cocky
I cocked a snook or two
derisive snorts more than cheeky
with a cock-a-doodle-doo
at her cock-a-leekie
and when she cocked an eye at me
on the moment's spur
I first cocked my hat
then cocked an eye at her
on a slippery slope downhill slide
absurd it was because
we were now both cockeyed
Did the first creature to crawl
out of the proverbial, primal primordial,
onto the sand,
feel like a fish out of water,
out of its depth,
when high and dry on land?
With no wish to carp or cock a snook
I won't leave you in the lurch
but oh my cod take a look
what a plaice to perch
as just for the halibut
putting seahorses out to paddock
is enough to give one
a severely bad haddock
so no red herring I don't flounder around
take a peeled eel flake of baked hake
plus a pinch of pickled pilchard
and an ichthyic sandwich make
but if my words are vitriolic
you may grunt and kiss my bass
as it's all a load of pollock(s)
The story of dory
And the story of John
Could be glory
Could be wrong
Dory was a Gent at heart
Dorian was the birth mark
John preferred the Dory part
As was his name from start
A younger brother with might
John enjoyed a good fight
Dory had no choice in life
As his brothers fire reignites
Sat in constant silence
In denial of the violence
Seeking the vengeance
Of a brothers pretence
To the viewer looking in
There was no sin
No bullying of the sibling
Feelings was kept within
But poor old Dory
Was more than a story
A tale as gory
To make the devils glory
A knifes sharp look
Sharper than a serpants tooth
No more playing by the book
Dory looks to end the snook
Waiting for the right time
To end his eternal prime
Lifting up his knife
Here's to you and life
Claret filled the room
With no time to gloom
The blade spun with a zoom
As Dory fell to his doom
A story of brothers grim
A story of feelings within
A story of lifes sin
A story we need to bring
So the masses will see
People hide their grief
From judging thieves
Who steals from realities
Elmira faerie used to paint teeth
It was disgusting.
She asked to be reassigned.
faerie manager took pity on her.
She now paints flowers white.
Lily of the valley, daisy, Queen Anne’s lace.
She gets to ride on the back of Snook, her snail.
Her sidekick ladybug criticizes; it is nirvana!
- The Villanelle Of The Look MINDSET MISCONCEPTIONS-
Misconceptions babbling unspoken about the look
Deeply was just so broken and outgoing
Forces could never forget the outcome book
Stories miss read, Mindset was shocked by the rook
He found himself feeling rather flowing
Mindset couldn't stop thinking about the look
Misconceptions was spooked by a notebook
He thought the situation had become rather seagoing
But Mindset could never forget the outlook
tried to distract misconception with a hook
Hook-Line and sinker like a fish time to start thinking a boing
Bells ringing couldn't stop ding-donging about the look
Misconception took action like a snook
The look was becoming too easygoing
Mindset could never forget the outlook
Misconception nosedived like a dreamy overlook
His mindset became dangerously glowing
Misconception couldn't stop thinking about the look
But he could never forget the outcome shook
2/15/23
Written words© by James Edward Lee Sr.2023©
A Villanelle poem type
Life is running among the Pages of time book
Is the journey easy as it looks?
Well the journey is through a flowery/thorny Brook
At times, life runs through flowers and is happy like a snook
While at times, it runs through thorns and is shook.
In its journey, life runs for things which Captivate it but never come to it
In spite of being traumatised, it keeps running without quit
Keeping trauma aside, it brings optimism within it
With full vigour of optimism, it runs again for making itself a big hit.
Through its Sweet /bitter run, life has learnt to feel free and fierce
In its journey up till Now, life has learnt to run through flowery/thorny Brook without tears
Now life runs through the thorns and they seem scared as to them it is a mighty bear
It seems that thorns have accepted life as a bear without fear.
The cats ventured out from every nook,
As if parading from a pretty picture book.
One gave me a very scary look.
It truly had me feeling a little shook.
You’re not afraid of cats? Asked Mother Snook.
I was not sure. This one’s nose was an ugly hook.
She seemed like a felon, a criminal, a crook.
I was a bit afraid of this cat, Mr. McNook.
He rushed me and I fell in a mire of a brook.
Now when I spy cats from the family McNook
I don’t just glimpse. I take a really hard look.
Most of them truly have me a little bit shook.
A hot July evening, and nothing had stirred,
the minutes just ticked slowly past,
too hot for much effort, and even the birds
gave up chirping as long shadows cast.
I savoured the moment and reached for my glass,
cold lager to help quench my thirst,
when I saw something black in the bubbles of gas,
close inspection, and I feared the worst.
A fly had snook down while my back had been turned
lost it's footing and fell in the beer,
and now paddled in vain for the side of the glass
but could not make it out of first gear.
Since it spoiled my enjoyment, a spoon for employment
was acquired and from my drink was scooped
the sad fly in some drops, poured it out where it stopped
with no movement, all out it was pooped.
With it's legs in the air (and I know, I've been there)
it finally righted itself, shook a wing, rubbed it's head
but not flying, instead took a gentle walk on my shed shelf.
Oblivious now to the story of how
I'd just graciously saved it's poor life,
I wondered as it slowly wobbled off home-
what on earth did it say to it's wife?
Announcing its presence it snook in above,
through a window that I'd left ajar,
no time get up and give it a good shove
to close it, the distance was too far.
I was in no position to choose 'fight or flight',
my options were cut down to just one,
that was sit very still ( I had some time to kill)
and then make a move when it had gone.
When it comes down to fear, and I'll make this quite clear
things that fill me with terror are few,
but one of those things is being stung by a wasp
when halfway through a sit on the loo.
The August's heat wave made streets sizzle,
in the fifties there was no air conditioning;
can we imagine the frustrutating feeling
that made bodies and minds very feeble?
Summer was fun on that noisy Mulberry Street,
no traffic went through it: such a sad downbeat;
how happy were the kids that couldn't help screaming,
getting wet in a large pool of water that was refreshing.
Blame that rascal kid that opened the firehydrant,
nobody went to school and mothers seemed moody;
some vendors were mad, but watching was so groovy...
they weren't nagging and enjoyed the scene with interest.
My books lay on the stoop, splashing water made them slide
nom brought them in giving me a naughty and disapproving look...
even she realized that's another silly excuse for me not to hide,
dipping bread into her delicious gravy while dad sliced the snook.
Copyright ( c ) 20017 by Andrew Crisci
There once was a pigeon
Who lived in a cage
Its fluffy exterior
All tormented with rage.
The beaky beast ruled
The entire place
Scaring it's fellow creatures
Venom scribbled all over its face.
"PIGEON PIGEON!!!" all the other animals cried
Look what you've done
All the other pigeons have died.
Defiantly the pigeon stood firm
And puffed his chest out proud
"Can't you see from my actions
I stand out from the crowd!"
Later that day all the other birds devised a plan.
Ollie the owl who lived in the tree
Whispered to everyone
Had them chuckling with glee
To make a fool out of the pigeon
Was their plea.
Ollie the owl snook into his cage
Grabbed him by his talines
Plucking his feathers like a leaf of sage
Ernie the Eagle snatched him
And swiftly flew him into town
Without any care.
Mr Pigeon now shivering in disbelief
A fallen tyrant soon to be disceased
Ernie the Eagle now the thoughtful chief
Vowed not to speak of Pigeon the life thief.
Gotta have guts to fall and rise,
To buck the trend and wrest the prize,
To thrust your life in hands of mates,
To believe in self, tempt the fates.
Each day give yourself a surprise.
Night's dark mantle leads to sunrise,
Rise from the dust with this surmise.
Cock a snook at life if it grates.
Gotta have guts.
When you are down and life's not nice,
It's up to you to add the spice.
Play not as the rule-book states;
You'll grin when you knock at the Gates.
Heed well these words , those of the wise :
Gotta have guts!
~12 Jul 2016~
syllables checked via www.howmanysyllables.com
Best Rondeau Poem - sponsored by Laura Loo
Rondeau Rhyme Scheme: AABBA-AABC-AABBAC
EIGHT Syllables in each line except the 4th line in second stanza ( C ) and the last line in the third stanza. ( C ) They have FOUR syllables and is the repeated refrain from the first four syllables in stanza one
What I know about fish
You could fit on this dish
But I thought I would give it a try
So I bought me a pole
Catching fish was my goal
And I thought I could learn on the fly
What's there too know ?
How bad could it go
It's as easy as baiting a hook
You cast in your line, in a hole that you find
loaded with oodles of snook
So I started out early,
A bit feeling surly
For rising before the sun
When I got on the boat
I was wearing my floats
And the others began to make fun
So we trolled out a ways
Through the brown muck and haze
To get to a spot, we all thought
Had plenty of fish, but our inner wish
Was to drink all the beer that we brought
So I've learned, from that day
The real fishermen's way
And I'll never forget it, because
It's not important the size, trophy or prize
We're just out to catch a good buzz
Once innocence was all you can see
To my suprise my sin had snook up on me
Although it was my choice
I stand here still in remorse
I know now that I would never recieve your trust
But remember the times when it was just us
laughing, enjoying life, enjoying each others company
I tend to only remember the past as a reminancing time
I will prove to you that I can take back what once was mine
Innocence
I snook up to the window
Light was lit inside
Trying to make myself invisible
Against the wall I pressed my side
I shuffled along inch by inch
was just about to peak
When i heard someone in the room
Raised voices and a slap, felt weak
Oh my what shall i do now
Do I call the police
Can hear a lady screaming
Something about relief
Many blows were struck
Cries hard to understand
I peeped could see the man
A belt in his hand
I dialled the police
Said dont make a sound
When they arrived
Was pleased to have around
They looked through the window
Starting to laugh out loud
Just 2 nymphomaniacs
Whipping to them was allowed.
Just goes to show you
Not all is what you think
Keep your nose out of trouble
Stay chained to the kitchen sink.
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