I wonder why my parent said
She’s the spitting image of grandma dead
For in death, grandma did not look her best ~
though she still aced the saliva test
the gargoyle spouted restless streams until
icicles silenced the steady façade’s faucet
into perma-frosted solitude in meditation
You can’t destroy
a word
like vanquishing
an enemy
Its meaning cast
immortal
beyond
— victory or death
(Dreamsleep: November, 2024)
With every word you utter,
there you go you splutter,
thanks to my old ears,
I can hardly hear,
your yelling and ugly,
maybe dear your hungry.
I never argue with buffoons,
they'll waste your afternoons,
I've learned this over the years,
It's good that I can't hear,
so splutter away my dear.
Cracked often reminds me of pecan nuts.
Cracked also reminds me of earthquake scars.
Mostly cracked reminds me of Jerry Butts
Who loved driving Italian racing cars.
When he drove, Jerry often munched cashews,
While wildly weaving down roads he would choose.
Jerry switched cashews for sunflower seeds.
Spitting split shells out at a breakneck pace,
Once some flew back and lashed his bearded face.
With shells dancing in his eyes, he raced on.
That was the last time Butts cracked any nuts.
His sports car cracked on a fresh earthquake scar.
the daily news droned on and on
as hope gave way to gloom
every ray of sunshine doused
by raindrops spitting fumes
war and murder everywhere
no part of earth untouched
I pulled my hood up over my head
the burden was too much
I'm
spitting grape's
these day's
I don't wine and dine
but when the time come's
I'll be her guest
quite
next to your brother
half sister I smell
attract's you
and well so being
so leave it be
and be quite like me
~Saliva drips down my mouth
Must have been a restful sleep
Crust in corner of my eyes
Frightened in my sleep
2/11/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2022
Sadness and compunction rapidly moving
Combining the immorality with bad;
My mind soon will be distorted
Each thought composed drives me mad.
Before long each thought mingles with
Sadness and compunction rapidly moving;
Unable to change them into happiness
Knowing there’s no hope to improving.
Wherefrom I came and where I travel,
Too soon the darkness on me descends ;
Without receiving blissfulness permanently,
Contributing to intimidated amends.
Standing tall over sadness triumphantly
To life, I spot with hate confidently.
holy peeping tom
all seeing guy in the sky
ogling mother earth
***
When you a petty thief house,
Expect a dramatic disappearance of your blouse
And one other filmic vanishing and sure goodbye
With his waiting, believable alibi.
When you all . webs browse,
Not against this holding a grouse,
You’ll definitely see
What shall make you feel at sea…
When you can’t from your hair extract a louse
You might not out-smart a cornering mouse…
If you can powerful emotions arouse,
You can a spitting fire douse!
When you a petty thief house,
Expect a dramatic disappearance of your blouse
And one other filmic vanishing and sure goodbye
With his waiting, believable alibi.
When you all . webs browse,
Not against this holding a grouse,
You’ll definitely see
What shall make you feel at sea…
When you can’t from your hair extract a louse
You might not out-smart a cornering mouse…
If you can powerful emotions arouse,
You can a spitting fire douse!
When you a petty thief house,
Expect a dramatic disappearance of your blouse
And one other filmic vanishing and sure goodbye
With his waiting, believable alibi.
When you all . webs browse,
Not against this holding a grouse,
You’ll definitely see
What shall make you feel at sea…
When you can’t from your hair extract a louse
You might not out-smart a cornering mouse…
If you can powerful emotions arouse,
You can a spitting fire douse!
Rhetoric
get over it
I must confess
double tongue
I'm on the run
I don't eat raw fish
Speculated observers must think I'm rich
Just cause though because I eat caviar when I take a bath
Such lies what's up my eyes covers my skin
That's why I'm not bathing
Shall I commit
Truce and not spit
Get over it
Rhetoric
2/7/21/written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021
Death is not a failing
—only its denial
(Dreamsleep: December, 2019)
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