it is said that a woman's true beauty
moves from her face to her heart
she is likened to the aging rose
from bud to bloom, to potpourri
enveloping her existence
she is the truth in beauty
walking towards Heaven's Gates
mother said, find such a woman
in whose heart God is enthroned
be honored to sit at His feet
how many times i have peered
across this vast space
a vacuum that separates us
wandering and wondering
when your hand will grace my existence
a touch i have so longed for
the poems i so long to write
beckon in your every fingertip
silent lines i can see, blinded
where a muted man can only glimpse
waiting, a simple man, waiting
where we are separated only by eternity
and in that perpetuity is there an answer
to a forever question
a timeless existence perhaps
a valise of toiletries and disposables
Oregon 9/10/26
toiletries arranged by the sink
toothbrush green, powder in pink
cylinders, tins, glass bottles too
make up, soaps and comb of blue
most of it is used every day
except a red pig made of clay
paraphernalia in its place
husband defers with sweet grace
Toiletries
My toiletries manage well an
organisation devoted to
fruits and
vegetables (non-organic only).
Do something before you’re stopped by Logic,
Logic: scarcely a good friend of Magic
Rapidly grabbing its territories
Even seizing Magic’s toiletries!
Do something before Logic gets tragic,
The hardest of blows landing on Magic.
I see you side fast with Aristotle
In quest of the same size, same title.
Midcourse, you turn Attacked Helpless Turtle
And this would you out of race hurtle…
Do something before Logic screams LOGIC
Or continues to say “Be strategic!”
There has been a helpful “Just say you can;
I would pass a hotel “Be a man.”
Both, of course, neither Magic nor Logic
But upon test deliver as magic.
I hear girlish laughter beyond the bagged onions.
Imagine her swimming naked among green ripples.
Her white arms are lily stems, hips as sleek as an otter
flow in a neon moonlight.
A sound system promotes discount cookies.
Visions of idealized females fill the dairy product section.
A courtly love of grapes spreads to the potatoes.
In the toy aisle, Avalon, Camelot, and Tintagel
appear in plastic miniature together with rainbow painted ponies.
Between the crisp covers of Guns & Ammo and Cosmo,
Annales Cambriae, Historia Brittornum,
and the writings of Gildas shimmer in periodic reality.
I should turn the old legends off, but the Kimble audio
keeps me walking with Malory and Tennyson.
In toiletries and cosmetics, I find her.
A teenager shyly laughing as she texts a boy.
My imagination reaches for the forbidden,
a fruit that was fresh this morning –
a thousand years ago.
Good morning dear love, how are you doing this morn
After our pleasantries embrace in early morning squeeze
Let us arise, rise up my darling totally awaken slumber torn
Throw back, throw down the comforter arise from bed and be freed
Go unto the bathroom and do our toiletries
Shower wash up our respondent bodies
After we're done, come into the kitchen
So darling dear I'll fix for you breakfast
A brighten meal prepared by me first
I shall prepare for you the meal
As fabulous a Jesus last supper
I spoon feed you proper
For you are my queen
And what real love means
I will show you things
Henceforth we find together
I'll gently wipe off your lips
As you finish your dish
I'll lean over quickly we'll "kiss"
Good morning breakfast woman
To you whom I am devoted
12/21/21
Written by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021
I hear girlish laughter beyond the bagged onions.
Imagine her swimming naked among green ripples.
Her white arms are lily stems, hips as sleek as an otter
flow in a neon moonlight.
A sound system promotes discount cookies.
Visions of idealized females fill the dairy product section.
A courtly love of grapes spreads to the potatoes.
In the toy aisle, Avalon, Camelot, and Tintagel
appear in plastic miniature together with rainbow painted ponies.
Between the crisp covers of Guns & Ammo and Cosmo,
Annales Cambriae, Historia Brittornum,
and the writings of Gildas shimmer in periodic reality.
I should turn the old legends off, but the Kimble audio
keeps me walking with Malory and Tennyson.
In toiletries and cosmetics, I find her.
A teenager shyly laughing as she texts a boy.
My imagination reaches for the forbidden,
a fruit that was fresh this morning –
a thousand years ago.
Valley of the kings
Romantic ideas
Word spread rapidly
Undiscovered tomb of a pharoah
World renown archeological teams
headed for Egypt
Amateurs, we stood in line for almost twenty-hours
before it was our
turn to take a look inside.
From the sunlight to the darkness, at first you go blind.
You hopefully catch yourself
As you find yourself falling over all of the stuff the servants
Felt the Pharoah would need in the afterlife
Toys, tools, everyday items, seeds, toiletries, decorative items
Vast amounts of lapis, and gold are glimpsed at corners where
generators are lighting lamps.
The air is stale, like a death march.
There is little light; but lots of angry shadows.
I lost my footing twice, tripping over an embossed box.
There were three sarcophagus,
In this unusual tomb.
A family disaster perhaps?
I could barely see in here.
I went back out,
and gulp-breathed
Gorgeous Egyptian air,
relieved I had not been grabbed
by a mummy.
My vacation prep consists
Of checking items off my lists.
Toiletries and extra socks?
One more pair of shoes, sans box.
Make-up? Check! A book to read?
More clothing than I really need.
An umbrella? Meds and snacks?
Passport? Chargers? (Can’t relax!)
Bills paid up and cards all sent?
Nothing left to thus lament.
Pencil and my writing pad?
The checking off is ironclad.
As the time to leave draws near,
One by one they disappear.
When I’m headed out the door,
My lists aren't needed anymore.
A sign at an outdoor restaurant I found was a wee bit barbaric
“Tables for eating customers only” soon the townsfolk would perish
Much the same as toiletries
A tree on which you can pee?
The english language at times can send a confusing message
tryn press me
site conspiracies
over-rated poetry
look-ma's we's
write like me's
pressing
toiletries
slithering
on
then
sleeves
my moon
hung love
star spiraling shove
appealing to me
threw saturns
ringing rings
sumening
sound
am
i
ever bound
no never
what kiss made your knees weak
what words made your tears creak
squeak me clean from you
my ducts have dusted
mine tears sea'd
oceans waves
compare
to
me
eyelashes fall
in
my
misery
still they brink me
brink me under drunk
never into the boxed cybers
ever had mine words stumbled
never seen
an
stumbling cocky-roach
found that the cocky
can make her choke
back up my words with my fist
jump on in line
try'n find
loves
lips
what is this
shy hands
dress sea
try an press me
?
G-rocery center Thursday
I-s open to the public;
N-oodles, canned goods,
A-nd toiletries are fantastic.
L-et twenty-third February fill
Y-our bank account with money;
N-ever let the customers take various items for free.
B-usiness, commerce, and trade
U-se huge financial matter;
R-equired time and effort
A-re spent in a grocery
C-enter.
Staying at a Marriott,
You know just what you'll get.
In terms of cleanliness and style,
You have no need to fret.
The same applies to other chains -
It's comforting to find
The room decor and toiletries
Are what you had in mind.
But when you book a local inn,
It's always a surprise.
Descriptions of your room might clash
With what's before your eyes.
It may be better, may be worse,
But one thing is for sure;
It won't resemble any room
You've ever had before.
So play it safe or take a chance
But either way, relax;
When you're away, enjoyment should
Be amped up to the max.
Staying at a Marriott,
You know just what you'll get.
In terms of cleanliness and style,
You have no need to fret.
The same applies to other chains -
It's comforting to find
The room decor and toiletries
Are what you had in mind.
But when you book a local inn,
It's always a surprise.
Descriptions of your room might clash
With what's before your eyes.
It may be better, may be worse,
But one thing is for sure;
It won't resemble any room
You've ever had before.
So play it safe or take a chance
But either way, relax;
When you're away, enjoyment should
Be amped up to the max.
To nourish breaths and twirl away
when island counts beachcomber years
folder and pen will imprint scripts
of journey’s tales sucked from my womb
with drawings and poems handwritten.
For private care, need I bring toiletries?
oh , Mother Earth offers all herbal scents,
except for undies... that’s a load full;
just maybe, they’ll wrap me from the cold
or guise them as hats for summer’s fare.
Forget the playlist as necessity,
the music of waves, seagulls and leaves
is finer than orchestra or blues combined;
a serenade of night chirps will invite
the lull of twilight, the hop of morn.
In between survival and lush of days,
Rumi’s journal would embed new seedlings
opening chakras with tender wildness
for pauses while I lay on moon’s hammock,
enshrined in a banquet for body, mind and soul.
What Would You Take Contest, Shadow Hamilton
10.30.2013
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