contracts, torts, estates
sounds boring
~ ought to be a law
Matzo ball soup, gefilte fish
cook me up a Jewish dish
Kneidels and kreplach, knishes too
a bissele Chinese, egg yong foo…
Chopped liver and herring
and if you’re so daring
Grind the horseradish to bits
serve mit red onion shpritz
Nisht fargessen dessert
rugelach and torts
Roe v. Wade’s overturned ~
it's kosher to abort
Spoilt from birth,
Pampered and needy,
Being the spare an inherited curse,
Leading to actions often quite seedy.
Great aunt Margaret blazing the trail
Questionable choices aplenty,
Drugs and alcohol steering her sail
A life of regrets, vacuous and empty.
Followed by Andrew possessing of valor
But aimless and vain in every respect,
His choices a mess, cause of great clamor,
So by way of example what to expect?
As to his mother, that heart-shearing tale,
The lovely Diana Princess of Tears,
A tragic figure determined yet frail,
The ultimate victim to her own inner fears.
But a glass half empty is a mindset of sorts,
Blindly ungrateful to privileges bestowed,
Clouding his mind with nothing but torts,
Leading the spiral down a winding dark road.
We the onlookers can only but hope
That time and experience will yet prove the key,
Shielding his fall from that slippery slope,
Grasping the change which for now he can't see.
I am weak always
Away from blame he sashays
Faults to nitpick
So who is the one sick
It takes all sorts
All with their own torts
Forgiveness is His to give
to those who wish to live
mon Père céleste
S'il vous plaît, pardonnez-moi;
Pour
Tous les péchés que j'ai commis; Tous les torts que j'ai mal
Je suis désolé
Pardonne-moi
Come Heavenly Father
Please for give me;
For
All the sins, I've done; All the wrongs I've wrong
I'm sorry
Forgive me
Forgive me
I am sorry
For all my sins
and all the wrongs I've done
Father mercy, please forgive me
Heavenly Father
Come
mon Père céleste
S'il vous plaît, pardonnez-moi;
Pour
Tous les péchés que j'ai commis; Tous les torts que j'ai mal
Je suis désolé
Pardonne-moi
Father mercy, please forgive me
Heavenly Father
Come O' heavenly Father forgive me
8/28/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
Rules and regulations bring economic strangulation
Policies and procedures serve the whims of weak leaders
Statutes and ordinances pave the road to subordinance
Hypotheses and theories render creativity weary
Laws and by-laws stick fast in your craw
Custom and tradition tie the hands of ambition
Axioms and corollaries, originality bury
Torts and contracts recall long-dead artifacts
Plea bargaining, eminent domain, the statute of limitations
Reek of appeasement and Machiavellian machination
Give me a world without all the perverse legalese
A world of brave men, who dare do as they please
The Village *****
in the sunlit morning I awoke to enter the village
a vast amount of seagulls flocked overhead
yet my soul permeates through the duration of the walk
an officer was assigned to watch the Lone Blue Lagoon a gay club
as I entered i melted in my seat there were men around me swarming me like a bee
a sip of wine and everything was so very fine
a whole host of finger foods were on a table
it was many years ago let the truth be told
all the way in P Town that a fare lad named Luigi had come out of the closet
although those many years would pass I still had every reason to grasp
the notion of a whisper while passing gas
Luigi today is known as the village *****
a Liberace of sorts with sweaters and torts
has a coffee shop down by the beach his bagels and locks are to die for
yes in 1975 he went to Studio 54
a hippie of sorts always dressed up in his shorts
very giving man let the reader understand
until the day he got busted for heroin it was all in the news
needles were found even in the coffee house's sofa
now the village ***** is doing time but everything is fine
people still come by and shine
After: Harlequin’s Carnival by Joan Miro, 1925.PD
After: Bing Crosby - Swinging On A Star (1944)
I try to apply colors like words that shape poems,
like notes that shape music. - Joan Miro
Listen to the mockingbird rings from ear to ear driven in a
frenzy of delight, naysaying the evil torts of Hieronymus
Bosch’s gardens. Feasting on nature’s foreplay, stringing
leaps of fancy, parading to an oompah-pah, lured by a rendez-
vous with Dali and melted timepieces.
to fly
to soar
soar unconfined
soar scored
scored notes
scored lines
The bliss of true tones, winged squirmings,
dancing snakes, acrobatic merfolk swinging on stars,
the ensemble gestates.
Cues coil, ping, the clocks tick; let your
wired heart purr. Jack-in-the Box to Jack outside,
take a spoonful of sugar with your medicine, & twirl
your partner round and round.
First published by illumen 2016
This is the real world
expressed in the form of several days
worth or ghost writing.
Kowloon: The Walled City of Imagination; cosmetic dentistry;
REASONS TO STOP THUMB SUCKING;
New York's most iconic photograph; container shipping;
How are pets handled in divorce?
Medical cannabis and kids; plumbing and drainage inspections;
immigration counseling lawyer in Chicago;
Metal fabrication in Chuckey, Tenessee; How home security alarm monitoring works; How to make an HDR Photograph;
toxic torts; audiologists; plumbing and drainage inspections;
Tenth Edition, Calculus Early Transcendentals;
ISEE test preparation in los angeles;
vinyl windows in Beltsville; great printers for Mac computers;
orthopedic doctors in Herndon, Virginia;
container shipping; public adjusters in philadelphia; custom order fulfillment in Golden Valley; Minnesota; land surveys. Ghost writers know the real world better than poets.
Changing Values
Time keep on changing without a stop,
Human behavior also keeps on rolling,
Without tiring like Time and Watch.
The Man who showed the world light and torches,
And were the leaders of yesterdays,
To-day they are called the politicians of changing thoughts.
They read less and teaches a lot,
Often without even understanding and following,
The principals of humanity and law of Torts.
They breathe for Money and their belief is Money,
Their aim to live on this earth is Money,
They live for money and they worship Money like God.
The time of those wonderful great leaders like Gandhi,
The time of those history maker’s great men like Lincoln,
May never be possible on this Earth.
As the time of selfless devotion for a cause,
As the time of showing the world a new path, now goes through,
The jungles of irremovable Money Grass, Money trees and Money rocks.
Ravindra
Kanpur India 08th August 2010.
A few strokes to the base and the long nose,
Stretched firstly to the left and then to the right,
Torts blushes to blend within the obscure orbs.
In liquid dispersion of crimson flushes,
Twin crystals defy each sensual love wishes,
Red chinks with lip gloss in their carnal remix,
Veils blue with lewd gesture, rejoices her wails.
Brows in the black laced rainbow verve mascara,
Flash seduction between dark silky actions,
Rain and the clouds swept by sharp lightening bolts,
Thunder to thrill the most illustrious climax.
Expelled tears of ecstasy and the soft moans;
Compliments submissiveness in the groans.
By day she was dressed
With the finest of wear
A conservative sort
With pushed up red hair
So hard to believe
The dual role she had played
When to Law School she went
And appeared that she stayed
It seems that Sara Jenkins
Was a lawyer in the courts
Now a professor of law
With the main subject, Torts
Her father was a judge
Who, through scandal, had quit
He cheated on his wife
Who then died in a fit
That man was the reason
For her mother’s suicide
He had never blinked an eye
When the mother had died
The daughter, now older,
Loved her mother so much
She had vowed against men
And their lecherous touch
She had promised, in honor,
That she’d make them all pay
From the butcher to the banker
And her father, who got away
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