69.
My Memories of Las Piñas
Las Piñas - memories sweet
Soul was innocent and neat
I miss the friends of childhood
The closeness of neighborhood
It's where I learned ABC
Twinkle Stars and 123
I miss the townhouse playground
My afternoon hang around
With Jay, Fritz, Toto, Len-Len
Yobi, Cyrene…more than ten
It's nice when night was brownout
My friends and I would play out
After church mass, family
SM Southmall was hobby
When Holy Week was around
Night film showing on playground
Also on time of summer
Neighbors resort together
When it's Christmas eve and night
Flood the gifts from left and right
Best is every New Year's eve
Night's merriest street party
Visit kin both side parents
Those another excitements
Oh Casimiro Townhomes
I should have never left you!
-11/27/2011
(Dumarao)
*First Incubus Collection
Townhouse crackers
Is the best
Can they really past the test
You have shrunk so
Much in size
I don't think that was wise
But your rich flavor
Still stands
Because you're the best brand
This sunset's rays are reaching through the green trees in the neighborhood,
Eventually it will be night and I'll see stars soon.
Moonless, sparkling sky right above my mother's townhouse roof.
Back in the days
of yesterday and today, or,
traditions and contemporaries
... she came.
Yesterday and tradition say ...
leave your things home, she'll leave your things alone.
Today and contemporaries say ...
in so many words ... heart heeds all abilities.
Yesterday and tradition say ...
you leave, she leaves, or you take, she takes.
Today and contemporaries say ...
that theirs were words of comfort.
She came and they left ... she never came back, nor did they, except one, me, [oldest parents and siblings passed]--I'm the lone inheritor, with a piece of paper of a new sizeable land and redesigned coastline, turned into a new land deed, along with my new will, --sits in a bank, I, in a beach townhouse in Hilo town. All three (3) are well-deposited earning interests, one happily due in ~June~.
A Villanelle by Jelsr
Junebug couldn't stop thinking about the hood the house
It was just so slumming and urban
Never had he known anything so robust
That morning, Junebug was shocked by loss
He had to calm himself with a cross
Andy couldn't stop thinking about the house
Later, Taten was spooked by a townhouse
He tried to focus on a herein
Never had he known anything so in-house
Junebug tried to distract him with a penthouse
Said his mind had become too interurban
Taten couldn't stop thinking about the pit-bull eating rotten souse
Hood rats playN dominos
Wild cats in the trash cans crunching Doritos
Come to find out they were both under the influence
Homeless living in a crack-house
2/10/2023
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2023©
https://www.facebook.com/StMatthewsEpiscopalChurch
a knowledge miser
when he had become wiser
now a supervisor
what we did intend
much money to them will lend
all of it can spend
price gains and gains
from all of our money drains
price high still remains
more oil can create
high price will eradicate
how to educate
great start made to stitch
are not sure the one or which
that did have a glitch
new one we have found
was a townhouse on the ground
silent with no sound
Beige is the itch inside my head
The dreary, drab walls I stay locked in
I’m a townhouse with a freshly painted facade,
But moldy wallpaper and carpets that are soaked with the stench of cigarette smoke
I’m trapped in this house
Blinds nailed to the sills
Doors latched by keys long lost
Milk spoiled
And the fridge smells stale
I sit in musty rooms on crumbling couches as oblivious pedestrians pass by and say “What a lovely house! A sunny porch to sit on and cheerful mint green accents.”
But inside my house paint peels like shagbark and dust collects like dew
You knock at my door and I can’t let you in
I rip out the knob and claw down the splintered wood
I throw myself against the frame and try to tear out the hinges
But the door doesn’t budge;
Not even an inch.
So I stay stuck inside my beige house
Left to wonder if there is an out
Written by Gail DeBole
September 10, 2019
A couple had less – wanted more.
Were convinced that their lives were a snore.
Sold their house for a thrill.
Spent the money until
Lottery tickets covered the floor.
Spending months on their townhouse floor
Scratching tickets ‘til fingers were sore.
I’m sorry to say
Because of all that they paid
They ended up with LESS - and Not MORE.
Note: Based on a true story reported in a Michigan newspaper in the 1970's.
As My Town Goes Sinking
My town goes sinking, sinking
Beneath a sea of shopping malls
As I sit and ponder, drinking
Staring into merchandise stalls.
Each mall boasts two dozen stores for shoes,
Providing fashion for Yuppie feet,
While all I can do is feel confused
As I watch the disappearance of my streets.
Now it's 300K for every tiny townhouse
For the foreign invader and his spouse
Come to commute, born to shop,
To drain the town's spirit to its last fatal drop.
Seems to me my memory of a nice little town
Used to exist here, before the glitterdomes;
A place where one felt up when things were down,
Sensible people in sensible homes.
Now I just sit sometimes, and watch it all sink
As I help myself to another drink.
Now Bart Simpson, over across the way,
Advises me, as he did yesterday
Not to get worked up, or "Have a cow";
But on reflection,
At the risk of rejection,
If I could, I would - right here and now.
30 miles out, I'm here to stay
Soon you will leave and be on your way
To work of course, back where I was living
Gadsden to Oxford, long drive, are you kidding?
Like what am I doing? I'm new to this city
As I drive the bridge, glancing at the river that's pretty
It's Even better at night
Let the lights cast over the water, it gives a reflection so bright
I'm tucked away in what seems to be the edge of town
One lonely street, not a peep, not a sound
By now I'm use to the privacy of it all
Referring to my old house, where the drive way compares to Great China Wall
All love to the new owners they really pulled a bargain
A backyard orchard, a pond, and a garden
Here I am, a townhouse, the space is so different
30 miles out, not a curse to be distant
It’s a small townhouse development in New Jersey.
From the names of the streets, you would think you were in Italy.
One section is called “Corte di Roma”.
On the other side sits “Corte di Venezia”
In the middle, there is a small lake and a glade.
In Italian, the name of the place means “The Cascade”.
“Il Paese di Anatre” should be this site’s true moniker.
It seems there are so many ducks around each corner.
Those mallards and their mates can easily be found.
There are countless numbers of them roaming the ground.
Why are there so many? There must be a good reason.
For one thing, there is no such thing as a hunting season.
Anyone seen the Laptop?
“No” answered surprised wife
“Nope” replied my boy
“Power cord is gone!”
Along with young daughters toys.
Around one and three PM
Yesterday
Yellow townhouse rest alone
Vigilant unwelcome stranger,
Silent visit
Name unknown.
Rape like feeling
Aftershock
Internal rage bleeding,
Impotent clot.
Rejoice fearless coward
Empty handed soul
Sell our memories
Pack your bags
Prepare next visit,
Down to Devils hole!
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