Let clichés get frowned at in poetry,
Though trite, a tested phrase is still my friend
That saves goodly time, trouble too to me,
Describing it in a long-winding hand.
The grass is greener and apples sweeter,
And why should those fish bite the other rod?
Why distant hills to me look prettier?
And ‘shining object syndrome’ seem so odd?
Yet, too little can I on the ‘ther side,
Were I to shun the use of a trite phrase,
Escape there’s none than a long-winding ride
That won’t invoke visions of envied grass.
Let trite phrase be the thief of joyous cake,
Clichés do some useful toys to me make.
_______________________________
Tongue-in-cheek | 03.07.2026 | cliché/word play, friend, humour, poetry, Sonnet
Roses, subdued lights and a little wine...
It's harmony when our hearts align.
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
The winding crevice is filled with moisture streaming river flows;
The conscious expulsion from the clouds;
vapors , waters pores;
Heaven waters beams;
Inclement drownings, rain.
,
---Winding streams.
1/27/26
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2026
Long and winding is the trail
slickened by a slimy snail.
Through life he does wend,
wondering how it will end:
"If I might beg your pardon,
little snail in my garden -
is your day going well,
little creature in a shell?"
The mollusk replied in fright,
"I beg your pardon if I might",
said the snail whose skin was wet
with nervous beads of sweat.
"I'm God's creature just like you",
said he as he eyed the shoe,
and, "My, you're looking good,
glad you're in the neighborhood."
But those words were too late,
for the beast of sluggish gait.
It wasn't how he had wished,
his life stilled by being squished.
you're laying back and toking
is that a funny cigarette you're smoking?
~ looking suspiciously calm and mellow
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: 3rd place 2025
Crimson scaled serpents
Sinuously slithering
Winding through the reeds
Ink Hues On A Winding Road
Chapters turning
Leaves falling
Story telling
Intrigued animation serine
Deeper in every page sink beneath
Verge of complex themes
Rewrite unbound verses
Limitless parallel rendered
Lost in absurdities
Books for miles dusty planted in libraries
Sophisticated torrent
All the effort is worth it
Writers block
Brainstorming your thoughts
Achieve novel narratives
Ink hues on a winding road
Written passionate
The love of poetry
Turn every page, uncertain mystery
Dig deep, unfold in suspense journey
Walk with the author on the other side
With greenish sunsets with mint coffee
Too much pain wrestles in my dark,
forcing limps that stifle my spark.
Trekking life's long and winding road,
I seek You for a faith reload.
Praising Your road paved with truth's seed,
I will find where pain does recede.
Where there's a will
there's a funeral
death is a fact of life
a grave undertaking
for a mortician
and one day some day
you and I
will wake up dead
hopefully the lifetime led
was of our own making
too late for looking back
no regrets and yet
it's appalling
when we wind up
in a winding sheet
waiting on that beir
aside from six feet under
where do we go
from here?
Some say, 'Heaven,'
some say, 'Hell,' oh well,
by then our goose is cooked, wagon fixed,
and we'll never know 'til it's too late
as they've punched our ticket,
cleaned our clock and wiped our slate.
Spools for a day.
Wound up with what they say.
Tighter and tighter.
The insanity won't go away.
A year or two marinating.
Chaos has won.
Then the spring becomes undone.
Starlight in the snow...
Feel it's gentle glow...
Call it a feelin...
Deep within my soul!
Starlight in the snow...
Feel Winter's cold...
The future seems unknown.
Your touch completes me...
Feel your grin as we hold.
Your face does not deceive me!
I've found you today!
Starlight in the snow...
Feel it's gentle glow...
Crystalline raindrops...
Deep within my clothes.
Starlight in the snow...
Feel Winter's cold...
The future seems unknown.
Your shine does please me...
Deep in this dark and winding road...
My heart does not deceive me...
I've found you today!
Starlight in the snow...feel it's gentle glow...
Crystalline raindrops...deep within my clothes...
Starlight in the snow...Feel Winter's cold...
The future seems unknown.
Alone I walk this winding road,
With no hand to hold, no love bestowed,
In the stillness of the night, I quietly cry,
For a future where I’ll grow old, until I die.
I know deep in my heart and soul,
That I will never have that lasting spark,
No partner to share my joys and fears,
No soulmate to wipe away my tears.
The years will pass, like sands in a glass,
And I’ll watch as others find love that lasts,
But I’ve made peace with my solitary fate,
Embracing the life I know will await.
I’ll find peace in the beauty that surrounds me,
In the songs of birds, in the wind’s sound,
I’ll cherish friendships and moments of grace,
And carve out a life that I can embrace.
Though I may die an old maid, alone in the end,
I’ll know that my heart was true, my spirit will mend,
For love comes in many forms, and I’ll hold it dear,
Even if the love of a partner, remains unclear.
So I’ll walk this path with my head held high,
And find beauty in the moments that pass by,
For my worth is not defined by who I may wed,
But by the love I give and the life I lead.
pathway back to woods
grapevines twisted through fence line
priceless memories
Why does the wind create that howl
and with it such a sensation?
It's in your heart, your mind, your soul.
It seems to reach for your very cognition.
You sit, so still, in your room - just sulk.
The thinness of glass is so frightening;
it tries to fight the mighty howl
but cannot hold it back,
as that blow drives against your window
from the world outside, with no mercy, it seems.
Or does it prefer not to see you sulk so much?
Does it ask what's in your heart, your mind, your soul?
Perhaps this is its way of wanting you
to know its wish, its supplication.
Does a wind howl to make a plea?
(7 Sep 2023)
Secluded in the last visages
millenium wine washed down by punters
Pinch pockets stare sideways
Spot like eyes
being close with lilly eyed iwallets
A figurative disguise turning blase
The servant drums dance
Harlequins of night mass parade
winding seawards
worshiping the pipers
who have to be paid
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