I am a girl with densely haired arms.
In school, classmates would exclaim upon seeing my arms,
"Oh my gosh, how can you have so much hair on your arms!"
"Kiwi girl! Haha"
I looked at my own arms, then at the arms of other girls.
Their arms were smooth and bright,
While mine were like unpeeled yam sticks.
Fine, dense hairs scattered in every direction,
A gust of wind could even make them change course.
I gently brushed my left arm with my right hand,
Though not touching the skin,
I startled the little hairs,
Feeling a tickle.
So I raised my arm to observe it against the window.
Hey—they're like little grasses growing freely on a hillside,
Some long, some short, swaying in the sunlight.
I think I'm starting to like my arm hair a little.
A Moment in Time
A moment in time…
Like no other -
No twin or triplet –
Sharing the split second
In eternity’s space
As minutes chase
Perpetual movement of earth -
A meeting of fleeting glances
Momentary held in eyes of seekers
A possibility – opportunities
Running by on flashing silver sandals
Waving
Throwing kisses of solutions revealed -
Another layer of life unpeeled
In blinding clarity
Never replayed;
No flat footed response for the note
Not repeated;
Though time may bear sharp teeth
Like instances cascading torrents
Moves on into anonymity
When purest understanding smiles
In a breath
A sigh
A sneeze
A glimpse
Touching creation’s destiny in a wink,
Grabbing onto golden rings -
Choosing one momentary diamond
Refracted by the magic of the miracle gift –
One moment in time –
An epic told only once.
7/27/20
Based on Whitney Houston’s song - One Moment in Time
A QUESTION OF fruit-What do bananas do, when they un peel their skins?
they await being eaten by hungry humans...
What do grapes do, when they are all dried up...
and blue and purple act like Dracula...
they dry up risen?
What do oranges do when they're unpeeled and quartered?
they're separated sectioned off and placed one at a time in a mouth...
YUM!!
that's what fruits do when they are being eaten and chewed.
If bananas could talk
They would say "don't unpeeled us"
If onions could cry
They would dry their eyes
Now, now dry them their eyes
Banana stop crying onions here
Banana, banana stop flashing pull up your peel
Banana disorder as onion cries
1/9/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2020©
In my bedroom the three of us all high:
her, her, and I: pass methamphetamine
in circle, her to her to I, our lean
mannequin forms pressed hand to leg to thigh,
one on my left, one with a school yard eye.
We three are, and have been since seventeen,
friends without borders, like grass without green,
throating for water from skiffs diver dry,
strung out on wire like trout with tin-foil breasts
and pupils bulging black as once-a-star.
In my bedroom, the three of us undressed -
took her, then her, now I - have logged too far
on thirty six strips of backward spinning crests
to hide our heal where love unpeeled is scar.
My hands spade the shovel - spay the rooted grave.
Earth is impassive. Why won’t life relent?
The silver blades south for the black plastic bag
swallowed by west winds, wrapped in a blanket
that is olive green. Under the sun’s harrowing husk
I peel away the last bit of crust yet unpeeled.
Pink scab, raw, refusing to heal. Dusk is dawn, hushed -
the garden takes back what the plate glass revealed.
There is no breeze now as I sit down to write
in my black plastic chair once taken from me
by a black plastic bag. No peaceful leaves blow
as I swallow remains of what remains of night
while the lumbering bough climbs down from a tree
and sees through the window a fragmented shadow.
Perfectly observant,
We share the same exact struggle.
Perfectly normal,
A conversation with all but one subject.
Eyes that refer to the category
Of deep need.
Apologies do no justice.
Unpeeled oranges that sit in wait.
Guilty at first glance, suppressing true desire without a word.
Wanting to unravel- peel away at things kept from view.
Mistaking ears for a heart.
Just what are we observant of,
Have we become profound.
A perception seen but not heard
Are we that oblivious.
Selective, inconsistent.
Following our hearts through unspoken lips.
Soiled in the thought of need.
Was I ever ready to speak,
Needing, urging.-
What is it that you are trying to say,
I feel that this is us.
The priority of a first thought,
Overcoming all else.
Every day, a basket of oranges
In arms reach- woven together
In deep thought.
Beauty is only skin deep.
Spoiled by the nectar of lips
Perfectly observant,
We share the same exact struggle.
Perfectly normal,
A conversation with all but one subject.
Eyes that refer to the category
Of deep need.
Apologies do no justice.
Unpeeled oranges that sit in wait.
Guilty at first glance, suppressing true desire without a word.
Wanting to unravel- peel away at things kept from view.
Mistaking ears for a heart.
Just what are we observant of,
Have we become profound.
A perception seen but not heard
Are we that oblivious.
Selective, inconsistent.
Following our hearts through unspoken lips.
Soiled in the thought of need.
Was I ever ready to speak,
Needing, urging.-
What is it that you are trying to say,
I feel that this is us.
The priority of a first thought,
Overcoming all else.
Every day, a basket of oranges
In arms reach- woven together
In deep thought.
Beauty is only skin deep.
Spoiled by the nectar of lips
POTATO PEELER
I want to peel potatoes all day long.
I love peeling potatoes because of their lovely round shape
and their lovely little nodules. I like to feel the earthy texture
of their skin and I love to take a potato peeler to them.
Just to feel the knife bite through their skin and to reveal
the white flesh underneath.
There is such joy to behold in taking a bite
of an unpeeled potato. The feel of the earthy skin
on your tongue and those acidic juices running down your chin.
Such is heaven in my warped little head.
A SAILOR WENT TO SEE SEE SEE. . . .
In Vladivostok, that’s a lot colder than Britain,
While my sub was in dock refittin’
After six months of sea-trials unremittin’,
I went to a burlesque show, of sailors befittin’.
In the crowds of fur-clad men sittin’,
I became a participant unwittin’
In a strangely familiar art-form, omittin’
No item of clothing and not quittin’.
She was one communist sex-kitten.
This girl unpeeled right down to her mitten:
Pink flesh was blue because it was frost-bitten -
Gave a new meaning to blue-movies yet unwritten.
All of a sudden I was smitten:
I saw her beauty was real fittin’
And thanks to stage lights she was well-litten.
It was my wife ! - and her image was spittin’ !
The last time I caught her, she promised she was quittin’ !
………………………………………………………………………………………………………..
Entered in Andrea's SHOW ME THE FUNNY poetry contest
Daisy field
Blown by the soft breeze yield
Downy petals flow malleable
Brave pressures of nature designed to be able
Created by God very good acceptable
Sturdy stems golden scented center
The pollen presenter
Field enter
With a soft kiss sealed
The butterfly's touch on Daisy
Their hand perfect dealed
Short kiss pollen sip love one
Flit onward to next Daisy
In Daisy field healed
Viewing birds adorable
Scene feelings affirmable
Birds, bees, flowers my good emotions revealed
Those emotions that once were locked away thinking concealed
Good feelings now able
To let all blocked emotions yield
Freedom very accomplishable
Like a banana skin is unpeeled
Life before Daisy field so abominable
Glad that life now accountable
Emotions pour slowly unconcealable
Lessons learned from Daisy field high yield
(Very difficult three forms in one write.
Thanks Jared for the challenge..I was
determined that I was going to write
something..)
January
February
Sitting atop a frozen world
In this igloo house
Hovered o’er by Gods
Of ice and snow
In their awful grey vault of heaven!
Some Jupiter’s joke up there
Has turned things upside down
Somewhere above the roiling roof
Lay a land of spice and fruit
Mind reaching out
Logy along the vein
Tastes the unpeeled
Plumb of paradise
One short minute’s warmth
But then
Back down again
January
February
This igloo house
Daylight
I was so close to you
As to yours
We share my darkness
Must we breathe in just
A bottle of champagne
A can of olives
Two unpeeled tangerines
On this evenings campaign
Midnight lies within a crush
Metaphors of silence
My dear
I just cannot hush
Beneath our skies murder lies
Sensationally
I quiver at your touch
Occasionally you whisper
It’s just too much
A product of pure lush
Two adults
Within an undefined trust
Lust
A gentle thrust
Sleepless
My nights beside you
A ship of marvels
A day of dreaming
My mistress of deceit
I adore you
Do fulfill my notes of relief
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