SweeterThan All the Roses
Wishing that I could roll back the years,
And stop my hot, burning tears!
Though no prayers, can turn back the clock,
As you slept in my arms, with only one sock.
No more seeing you in Wal-Mart, silly -dance!
Only in cracked, memory’s mirror, I have a chance.
For you, belong to tomorrow ‘s rainbows and sunshine,.
Grandson, for you, in gratitude, I do in tears pine!
Those baby soft days, talcum- powdered, ever divine!
-8/16/2025-
Oh, lovely snowflakes,
from billowy clouds,
plump with expectation,
you break free and come tip toeing lightly
on tiny feet, gliding and dancing,
through the air in crisp December.
You travel through ether
uncaged and free and drop down
littering the earth’s expanse.
you keep falling and collapsing
one on another, and lie huddled
as a white massive heap-
sometimes landing thick as round balls
sometimes as the light dusting
of talcum, soft and pulverized.
The earth wears your white mantle with pride.
Those of you come first,
get vanquished instantly.
but when the real exodus begins,
you accumulate and heap,
inch by inch and foot by foot,
becoming a formidable force,
covering the earth in a thick white blanket.
In day light, you wink like twinkling stars.
at night what delight it is to watch you,
gleaming in moonlight, with your white hair,
grizzled into grey and ivory.
Folded in your dazzling beauty,
and enjoying the silent lullaby,
the world wrapped in cold stillness,
goes to sweet slumber.
Hungry for ideas -
a fish dish would help,
an unhinged arm's length away,
way over the Yangtze River,
where, far from the nearest eyeball,
drunken cormorants dive
for silverplated carp.
Alas, any old iron skillet
will not fit this oily range,
I will have to cowboy it,
first, beans and baby powder
to talcum my muffins
while I break-in some roughhewn chaps,
then to rodeo this coal-black cooker,
as I lasso a China man,
a wise angler who knows how to catch,
the natural gas of an angry Puffer Fish.
I have a secret happy place that's deep inside my head,
It's where I like to visit every night when I'm in bed.
I travel there by boat, the sail flaps gently on the mast,
The ocean shines a million shades of blue, the sky is vast.
My happy place appears on the horizon far away.
I land my boat upon the beach, the palm trees sigh and sway.
The sand between my naked toes is talcum powder soft,
And seabirds greet me, singing loud while soaring up aloft.
I watch the ocean push its white-tipped waves toward the shore,
And listen as each wave collides with beach then is no more.
I'm quite alone on this small isle, nobody else around,
No Friday footprints in the sand to spoil what I have found.
My island paradise soothes each and every body ache,
And sweeps away the pain and angst the daytime strove to make
So I drift away, serene and calm, my body free of stress,
And off to sleep I travel filled with joy and happiness.
"The teacher who is indeed wise does not bid you to enter the house of his wisdom but rather leads you to the threshold of your mind." Kahlil
Grade one, six years old, born to immigrant parents
not a word of English did I speak, but I found compassion
in a kind loving teacher who smelled like talcum powder
and wore baby blue eyeshadow the color of the sky.
She never married for the love of her life died at war
each time she spoke of him her eyes shone like stars *
I will never forget that first day at school
when I began to cry, for I did not understand language.
I walked down a corridor of oppression and gloom until
she walked over to my desk and leaned into my ear,
"Don't worry, I speak Italian too in case you get stuck."
Its as if someone had just let me out of a dark suitcase.
As I inhaled the scent of her talcum I suddenly knew,
I would be fine. Miss Cartolano was my first grade teacher,
she was the one who taught me how to never give up.
Copyright © Mystic Rose Rose | Year Posted 2024
"The teacher who is indeed wise does not bid you to enter the house of his wisdom but rather leads you to the threshold of your mind." Kahlil
Grade one, six years old, born to immigrant parents
not a word of English did I speak, but I found compassion
in a kind loving teacher who smelled like talcum powder
and wore baby blue eyeshadow, the color of the sky.
She never married for the love of her life died at war
each time she spoke about him her eyes shone like stars *
I will never forget that first day at school
when I began to cry. Not understanding the language
I walked a dark corridor of oppression and gloom.
She walked over to my desk and leaned into my ear,
don't worry I speak Italian too in case you get stuck.
Its as if someone had just let me out of a dark suitcase.
I inhaled the scent of her talcum and the color of her blues.
Everything would be fine I knew as I walked through
the portals of my mind unafraid, I began to trust and learn.
Miss Cartolano was my first grade teacher.
She was the one who taught me how to never give up.
HEAVEN IS A SPECIAL PLACE
In Honor of the Unborn
8/8/2023
A giggle Land where we cannot go.
0f pink fingers and crystal clear eyes
Forever azure springs and sunlit skies,
A place of talcum powdered souls.
Unaware, from this life, they were taken
God did create this oh, so special place.
Angels never let them know they were forsaken.
To keep a smile on their dear, tender infant faces.
Squeaky toys and cuddly, soft teddy bears.
Angel mothers do lullaby each newborn to sleep.
One day,with their Mommy,~ they might share
Meanwhile, in the still of the night, mothers weep.
Sleepless, they wonder, how is my child doing?
Their life always has a lost, dark empty space.
Does my baby need me, or is he just cooing?
The mother can ask for forgiveness and God’s grace.
But she wonders, very often what ‘s my baby playing?
You see, that is the story we are never told.
On her knees alone, each night, she is praying.
The Mother ages, lonely, shivering in the moonlit cold!
A giggle Land where we cannot go.
0f pink fingers and crystal clear eyes
Forever azure springs and sunlit skies,
A place of talcum powdred .souls.
Unaware , from this life, they were taken
God did create this oh , so special place.
Angels never let them knoew they were forsaken.
To keep a smile on their dear, tender infant faces.
Squeaky toys and cuddly, soft teddy bears
Angel mothers do lullaby each newborn to sleep.
One day, with their Mommy,~ they might share
Meanwhile, in the still of the night, mothers weep.
Sleepless, they wonder, how is my child doing?
Their life always has a lost, dark empty space.
Does my baby need me, or is he just cooing?
The mother can ask for forgives and God’s grace.
But she wonders,very often what ‘s my baby playing?
You see, that is the story we are never told.
On her knees alone, each night, she is praying.
The Mother ages, lonely, shivering in the moonlit cold!
5/12/2023
Dedicated to my Mother on her birthday., today.
Thank you , Mom, for allowing me to have a life!
Sometimes hard, but mostly years of sugar and
magificent spice!
Let me tell you what women do,
After a child’s delivery is through.
The birds, too, know: they jubilate
While animated ones ululate!
Adoration of baby simply true,
Eyes feasting on the frail thing Glad Glue
Foreplay’s sex women simulate
Hoping to future births stimulate…
A-once-childless his bad luck slew:
The same as saying ‘Reproach flew!
‘Unmarried’ to Married’ imitate,
Long celibacy to hearts palpitate…
Wriggling of waists no wasted strength,
Face powdering taken to a length;
“Who in the end shall look like baby?”
Talcum, help me to seem a baby!”
The powder is not free; you drop cash;
To declare one has no cash rash!
talcum powder was almost the death of me
it was bathroom winter elegantly scented
blinded by the dusty seductress, and i ache to bathe again
then cocoa shea hit me like an odd sort of heat
there were so many bumpy roads and dead skin cells
there were so many speed traps and balled up and torn up tickets
what should have been clues instead came as covered comfort
yes, lou, there was, originally, always something there to remind me
now, as naked as the current version of my eyes, i put the unexpected generic on the recently renovated pedestal
yes, again, Your Highness, Mr. Radio, the Woman of today is still smarter than Man in every way
thank you, Sweets, i will now live longer
Quote: Don't let the lilacs die without a touch of sweet perfume
send forth, from life to grave
She scented her wings with a powdery substance of lilac
then parachuted to earth tipping her scissions
with utmost precision;
Stardust fell across his cupid cheek but he did not rouse
talcum scent of baby powder mingled with sweet sachets
alighting gently like the moon when discerning the sky;
With whispering wings wrapped snuggly
she leaned over his tiny body then whispered,
" go ahead,... live "
January 14, 2022
Mind break
Just a moment ... frozen
Time stands still, in a very quantum way, (chuckle)
I look down by the base of the ladder
It's just a footprint, left by a boot
It could be ANY foot ... or any boot, really
But its mine, and perfect, the dusty soil like talcum
Every irregularity in my sole, left there as witness
But nothing special ... nothing earth-shattering, (another chuckle)
How many millions of such have been placed?
And without a thought or bugle call
Oh, the words that will be spun!
The phrases woven for the sake of that single impression!
For despite its normalcy and casual imprint
It IS special after all ...
The very first pressed on this new frontier,
The moon.
I was sitting in my
small cottage with
a cot and a chair
On name of furniture.
The little window was
my amazing friend
Because it gave me
Chance to peep through.
The next window panes
Always welcomes eyes
A girl Motee(fat) was forcing
mirror to declare herself princess.
A coat of talcum powder
followed by sun cream lotion,
all artificial things to fool girls
market produced for beauty.
Nice fragrance to add ghee in fire
From left to right, feet to head
examined herself but not satisfied
Once I dare to tell her truth hard.
Beauty lies in our self not
in things that used by you
Wrestler brothers bad memories
Recalled ,got on first they met.
If you have courage enough
to tell her once Motee
got rewards fractures on body
Then why not dare my buddy.
PUT YOUR FOOTLE OUT YOUR MOUTH
Here's Fred Froogle
Bald headed
Wears eyeglasses
He used to wear boots
Feet itch so
Soaks feet in toilet bowl
Sprinkles talcum powder on his nose
Drinks hot Coca Cola
Sucks his heal
Spits out his foot before a meal
Foot kiss ashy nights
Walks on shredded broken glass
Swollen breath toe jam dress
Spitting toe nails
Choking on my heals
Can't walk foot caught
Put your foot out your mouth
3/2/18
Written Words by James Edward Lee ©2018
My cousin had such sweaty feet
I hoped with new socks they’d smell sweet
Much to my great chagrin
They’ve not been on his skin …
I’ve given up being discrete!
When I wore a peg on my nose
The topic of his feet arose -
To get rid of the stink
He washed them in the sink
With talcum they smell like a rose!
10-20-17
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