There’s a guy with the funniest chair,
and an unfortunate lacking of hair.
He always plants his ass
in the back of the class,
and his name is Dave Crandall. So, there.
They say Dave was a major in math,
but his life took an alternate path.
He suffered boredom, severe,
in an IT career,
and, on retiring, felt need for a bath.
Being no longer youthful or limber,
he moved to Leisure World one September,
where, as an old fart,
he found writing and art.
At least, that’s what he can remember.
If he was lost on a deserted isle,
art and writing would not make him smile.
He’d need folk music for that
and a wide-brimmed straw hat
to shield his head in this lone domicile.
old slag value, as valuable as Value allows it
Then as a valuable secondary source,
the slag resulted from the gold-bearing
electrolytic mud smelting
contains up to 0.8–15 k g t-1
Au and 9–13 kg t-1 Ag, respectively
------------------------------------------------
Coal Ash experiments
sorted theories and Soughted formulas.
Coal ash pits using sewage,
sawdust, and other
dissuaded organics
to recreate renewable coal.
Leaves, shredded wood chipped
wood ash, tobacco stalks
straw hat manure compose
all will be mixed and allowed to
cure to recreate a renewable
source for energy.
Racheter l'ancien Walmart du comté de McDowell,
en Virginie-Occidentale, pour créer un nouveau
magasin et contribuer à la relance
de l'industrie charbonnière locale.
Musique pour basson et cor d'harmonie
Ce genre de musique « Ooh Baby »
I used to wear hats all the time.
Maybe a baseball cap that looks like a slice of lime.
Or a teal beanie that feels slightly warm-ish.
Maybe one that has embroidery of a fish!
Where did these hats go?
I don’t think they get lost in the snow.
Just in my bedroom all over the place.
Orbiting my mind like outer space.
My favorite hat of all.
Got lost in a bathroom stall.
Was covered in stripes and mostly pink.
Could it have been set down by the sink?
I liked to wear hats when I was younger.
I had so many, it was a hunger.
But when I lost her.
I lost all interest right after.
When she was gone like a flung rubber band.
It felt like howling sand.
So I stopped wearing hats and felt bare.
She wasn’t there to notice or care…
It wasn’t just my style that was thrown away.
It was us who hung out all day.
And she was gone as fast as that pink hat in the bathroom.
As if down the drain but we can’t assume.
The accident happened and tore me apart.
She was like a straw hat, flying away from my heart.
In front of Starbuck’s, on a bench,
Four Amish people sat,
The woman with a bonnet
And each man in a straw hat.
It’s not a sight you often see
On a local uptown street,
But in New York, you never know
What people you might meet.
That’s why I cherish living here,
For city folk embrace
All types of visitors who come
From every kind of place.
our porch shows what hillbillies live like
because we might as well be from Arkansas or Tennessee
We are creekers – people who live in van down by the river
stepladder, two side tables, one long glass table
glider, barbeque grill, shovels, spades, garden gloves
straw hat, hoe, mud-caked wheeled cart
six twelve-packs of water
dog kennel for a nine- hundred -pound dog
(which we have never used)
mismatched lawn furniture
broken umbrella
refrigerator, full sized, not one of those pussy ones
two night stands
giant fan with dog hair stuck to it
fold up chairs that were dragged in mud
sign with two cartoon dogs
the sign says welcome to our home
Buddy and Beau
It should say Welcome to Hillbilly Heaven
Today Lil wears a flowered dress,
a big straw hat, and comfy shoes
while watering Mom’s many blooms
the big and small, the pinks and blues.
Her golden dog and tabby cat
relax and calmly watch their friend.
What could be better for a girl
than having flowers to attend?
The front yard is a wonderland
with things for little girls to do
and loving pets that wait nearby.
Life bears a happy, rosy hue.
picture 4
I'm just an old-fashioned, flannel lumberjack shirt.
My father was some overalls, a farmer of dirt.
I'm a worn out and holey pair of cotton socks,
An unwanted sweater, packed away in a box.
My son's a fancy ascot living in New York City.
He can't be cut from the same cloth, he's too pretty -
A button down shirt, a jacket of fine leather,
A whole different sort of men's wear, altogether.
I'm aged pair of wing-tips, no longer employed,
Split along the sides, by overwork, nearly destroyed,
Living in the shiny black dress shoe memories of
Backless gowns, diamonds, stilettos and satin gloves.
I'm a quiet and unassuming pair of jeans,
A t-shirt with a picture of natural scenes,
A pair of rubber sandals, and a worn out straw hat,
A beachcomber, escaping the race of the rat.
I'm shorts on the way to the laundry in a sack,
An old hat that's traveled around the world and back.
Though I may have a loose thread that needs a snip,
Still, this hat gives life an appreciative tip.
oh! gentle breeze! flow past my fingers
to caress the meadow,
Wash my fair feet, silver stream
as you whisper to the pebbles,
watch my face as you float white clouds!
high up in the blue, blue sky,
smile at me, wave to me, spring flowers,
and not mock at my golden hair
under my straw hat!
I am nature, I am a beauty of creation too
and as much part of you!
love fills me with desire to bring forth to you,
my innermost longing- a child!
give me a caress, give me a kiss,
hug me with passion, anoint me
with your secret magic potions,
just make me a mother!
I am alone.
I am a motherless child!
Read Ted Kooser. Save your egg cartons until you have a fitted stack tall enough to be mistaken for an art project. Melt them down in a bucket of water. See how the float at first, then slowly succumb. Do not tell anyone about the egg cartons until they have fully disintegrated. Drink Rhubarb wine. Buy the straw hat from the old Vietnamese lady at your local Farmer’s Market. The smile she gives you will sate you for years to come. Fall in love. Do not be afraid to slap the five pound bag of rice in the supermarket. You will get looks, but you will be more alive than those watching. Write for someone else. Make them up, or pick someone out of a magazine. They can be your age, or not. It is up to fate more than your own brain. Understand that you are doing very well, and that there is value in waking up. Do not be afraid that you can’t remember dreams, or that you dream of a huge black wall moving in like a season. Read some more Ted Kooser. Laugh often, and easily. Die on a few small hills. Create a list of advice for young poets to discover who you really are.
A hot day and a smelter
Is it in Qatar, or in Dubai a friendly aluminum
smelter for sale, the one in the picture on a TV add
looks ok
Now that my wife is on holiday with her aunt I cruse
on the TV, but this is the first time I have come across
a smelter of aluminum
I buy food at the deli and warm it at home, taste
remarkable like my wife's cooking, not that I have seen
her peeled potatoes.
She hollers, come and get it and slams the cooking
lids together
I have had many cars, old ones, mainly because
I can't afford the taxi fare, I have no money to
buy a new car.
Aluminum smelter!
Wouldn't that be amazing?
I met a man in a bar who said he was a retired poet
spent his time writing slogans on walls
I told him about the affable smelter in Dubai
the retired poet looked out of the window
picked up his notebook and took no interest
in my smelter
He had seen a donkey with a straw hat and
regretted his retirement
I was thrilled to what the handsome gondolier wore
black and white striped shirt, straw hat,
red bow dripping off back of hat….
like Sophia Loren films from the sixties
I view Father's view
you see me I see you
the view outside
his clouded eyes
back drop summer green leaves
the clothes he wears
straw-hat brim
around bill shadow
I view Father's view
you see me I see you
demeaner still
checkered blue dark and light
white squares
happy to face
embraced-breathing God's grace
embraced-eyes covering dark shades
glasses
I look summer new heated day
I view Father's view
you see me I see you
the view outside
his clouded eyes
back drop summer green leaves
the clothes he wears
straw-hat brim
around bill shadow
I view Father's view
you see me I see you
demeaner still
checkered blue dark and light
white squares
I look a shroud
I view Father's view
you see me I see you
I view Father's view
you see me I see you
2/7/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2024©
I was conceived
in a magical realm
where I can where the sun
on my head like a straw hat
the sea around my torso
like a cocktail gown
with conch shells and coral reefs
The white sand like flip flops on my feet
and the palm leaves across my chest
and shoulder like a Gucci purse
Let me catch you in the morning when the sun comes out.
Under the dawn of light, you’re a beautiful sight.
With your warmth swirls with a dance before me, like butterflies in flight.
Taking my soul for a ride, down by the tree we go with the light of day setting down on us.
Kickin’ back against the tree, straw hat in tow with that summer breeze.
Lookin’ at you in those blue jeans, smiling back at me.
Dreams of a family tree with you and me.
Dreams of us all, under that family tree.
A Kraken with a straw hat cracking jokes and slapping racist white folks. I get my Xbox gauntlet to fight jellyfish ghosts with my friend a talking duck in a Tonka truck. I am asking as be where the axe be "hey taxi". drive me to the bouncy house as I wear my wedding blouse that I got from my inflatable house.
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