Ancient horoscopes
twelve constellations arrayed
a circle of fate-
read as the constellations
behind sun on your birthday
But the Earth titled
its axis drifted through ages
wobbling through the years-
one degree in seventy
it seemed insignificant
A hundred years pass
the stars slide out single days
just out of the frame-
the chart remains accurate
yet the heavens advancing
After 300 year pass
for some their sign is now wrong
spring appears in fall
what was once read as Aries
is now Pisces behind sun
The lesson is clear
zodiacs freeze time in place
but the stars move on
prophecies lose their anchor
when the sky forgets its map
She used to be fast
and bouncy,
but after two strokes
her head began to tilt
over her rolling neck
and podgy body.
Yet, through bleary eyes,
she saw off
starlings and cats,
toppling into them
with her comic
John Wayne walk.
When called
She would stagger sideways
wet nose tracking the sound,
then lurch forward,
tongue lolling,
a wide grin of recognition
plastered over her fuzzy face,
her brain.
Questioning my existence,
I feel myself responding
to what’s in my head.
Overthinking the next move?
A quick way to lose.
Not taking in what’s right here.
Moments shatter in your hand
never held again.
Walking on a balance beam,
wobble and remount.
Sunrise calls me to visit
and taste her coffee,
each day with a smile.
Beaming a warm reminder:
Go enjoy this day.
She used to be fast
and bouncy,
but after two strokes
her head began to tilt
on the rolling deck
of her body.
Through bleary eyes,
she saw off
starlings and cats,
toppling into them
with her comic
John Wayne walk.
When called
She would wobble sideways
tracking the sound,
then lurch forward,
tongue lolling;
a wide grin of recognition
plastered over her fuzzy face
and brain.
The cry of the turkey's gobble
left me in a cranky nobble
so I could fall sleep
no sound should he peep
stupefied, my head did wobble
armed with a hatchet in my hand
hoping a final blow to land
he ran, zigged and zagged
he dodged, jigged and jagged
I could not land the chop I planned
when at last my greatest chance came
though red-eyed, I took deadly aim
my aim was way off
the turkey did scoff
this Thanksgiving was turning lame
no turkey please, I’ll just abstain
my determination did wane
sleep overrated
ego deflated
bird became perpetual bane
Time to dance for God,
Song in African rhythm
With men and women.
Best choir dancers who
can wobble demons by their
Mavaillous dance moves.
June 24 /2023
Cheers to the Penguin
our tuxedo-feathered friend.
They're sorta shaped like bottles
from end to end.
Though he can't act, or model
On swimming most depend.
And they wobble at full throttle
Cheers to our little friends.
Faltered faith pedals roughly on roads without a map
Towards year's end, staggered by reality
Trust I tore from you lays shredded in spokes' overlap
Hurtful words snapped chance of entity
Regrets course cold recollections of my impatience
Cognitive cycle struggles with clogs
Grinding seizure from lewdness suddenly seditious
Pumps lumpy oil, paved traction lost
Travelling backwards, collision's desist is inevitable
Flipped over frozen spinning frightens me
Knowing I've zero desire to waver if I can have you
Navigation re-established in 21speed litany
29th December
- end of the line -
I'm a weeble wobble
Fingers in my pocket looking for change
I sit down in a chair and my buttocks looks for the ceiling
I'm a weeble wobble
Ah! But my anatomy is so rare, what?
You can see the ceiling with your, what?
I'm a weeble wobble, Ha!ha!
I'm a weeble and I walk on my butt
Yeah! And when I fall
Unlike you I git up
8/27/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr ©
It was judgment hour at the village show:
I was volunteered as they thought I'd know
how to discern between eight small bottles
of rhubarb and ginger vodka tipples.
Tasting just a sip from each of the eight,
I puzzled over a method to rate
just which was the best, then second and third.
I knew which was first but my memory blurred
the flavour of others. So what to do?
I looked for sediment, for clarity too,
but couldn't decide without more tastings
of others before making the placings.
Each one I sipped seemed better than the last
so should the one given first now be recast?
I looked at my jottings and scratched my head
as my mind now fuzzy was losing the thread.
I stuck with the first but with others so fine
placing second and third was hard to assign.
For each of the eight who entered a bottle
thanks from the judge with a bit of a wobble.
She used to be fast
and bouncy,
but after two strokes
her head began to tilt
on the rolling deck
of her body.
Through bleary eyes,
she saw off
starlings and cats,
toppling into them
with her
John Wayne walk.
When called
She would wobble sideways
tracking the sound,
then lurch forward,
tongue lolling;
a wide grin of recognition
plastered over
her fuzzy brain.
WEEBLES WOBBLE BUT THEY DON'T FALL DOWN
wicked wobbly weebles both wondrously
Junior Super Stretchy shame
Hippity Hop astonishly
Crazy forts
glow in the dark
Limbo Hop
Weebles wobble but they don't fall down
The Cat in the Hat I Can Do That
Junior Super Stretchy I do blame
Sunny Patch Bella Butterfly Hopscotch
Jungle Jive Jungle Jive, Oh my
hold the plastic "amazing egg" and perform moves directed
By the cute monkey on a series of cards
Weebles wobble but they don't fall down
But if they tip or drop the egg, they'll wake the giggly baby bird inside
Melissa & Doug Monster Bowling
indoor bowling set is fun, funky, and furry
Set up the pins for a game that's active, but also quiet
—well, except for the giggles
Wobble Deck wiggles
Weebles wobble but they don't fall down
challenge their balances and improve their coordination and reflexes
While all the Gen X's walk and text
Falling off curbs and stairs
All this and grand pa dropped his cane
After that he slipped and fell on his can
Weebles wobble but they don't fall down
10/31/18
Written by James Edward Lee Sr. ©2018
Weebles wobble
but they do fall down.
Once without windup whimsy weebles wobble writhing in wistful wiggly wattles,
they bubble, bobble, boggle, bottle and boondoggle coddles and dawdles;
a colossal ensemble debacle joggles and toggles the toddler's throttle
waiting on wafting waffles the twaddle and goggling the toppled pottles.
Just google that old fossil's nozzle schnozzled squabble.
Tongue twister:
without windup whimsy weebles wobble writhing in wistful wiggly wattles
Wobble
When love is lost and tossed aside,
there faith and hope will all have died.
For the loss you feel when you're alone,
there are no words that can atone.
And a heart that's lost within the night,
has no hope of shining light.
For the truth you see is simply a lie,
and the word you heard was just Goodbye.
Too late you learn this simple truth,
that dreams once born of a childish youth.
Can never see the light of day,
as long as the heart stands in the way.
For the heart you see is a fickle thing,
that spins in a wobble on a blackened string.
By Tom Clark
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