Writer T. James' Exploration of Words, on the Internet.
A Gender Studies grad named Rose,
Dreamed of joining the corporate-elite CEOs.
She wanted to rob
Some cis-het-white male’s job:
With affirmative action…
Her application gained traction.
Business degrees, who needs those?
≠
T. James; Sept, 2017.
(Image credit and usage: https://pixabay.com/en/executive-businesswoman-511708/)
There once was a vole, a fox, and a mole—daintily tippling tea from cups with filigree—down inside Mole’s burrow.
Said the fox to the mole, “If you are free, can I trouble you for some giblets or possibly steak riblets, to munch on with our tea? It would do much to lessen my sorrow.”
“My apologies dear Fox, for with meat I’m quite lost, but I do have a worm that will make your innards squirm?” said Mole, his voice touched with frost.
“No. I can’t be doing with all that wriggling and jiggling—my insides I don’t want grumbly. But some lovely intestine is really quite fetching and my digestion will not pay the cost.”
“So sorry, Mister Fox, for your cuisinal loss, may hap you will have to go hungry. Now Vole, a question, no, consider this suggestion: would you like some worm pie, garnished atop with toad’s eye?”
“Ah yes, Vole,” said Fox, “you’re a plump fellow, and despite wearing yellow, I think I’d like you for my tumbly.” And quick as a flash he stripped off Vole’s sash, and swallowed Vole whole with a sigh.
Mole’s mouth was agape as Fox reached for his cape. “M…M… Mister V…V…Vole!” he stammered, as his little heart hammered. “Fox, you’ve just eaten my dinner guest!”
“Mole, fear not, for Vole has ended my lack of a small, furry snack, and now I should be going. But I’ll return next Wednesday to this passable assembly—just invite someone else I can digest.”
—♥—
Taking Tea with Mr. Mole, a nonsense poem, copyright © T. James, March, 2013.
Image: “Cup Of Tea With Cheesecake“, courtesy of Marcus at FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Recently I’ve received some great news: Great Escapes, Volume 1, an anthology of poems and short stories, has reached its funding target on Kickerstarter. Why is this great news? Because I have a poem, Aftermath of a Stormy Night, included in its pages and this will be my first piece of poetry to see print. 
There are still five days to go before the Kickstarter appeal closes, so this is your last chance to dive over there and grab yourself a copy and some perks by making a pledge. Yes, I do get royalties, but I also think you’ll find something in it to fire your imagination…
If you are interested just click this link to Kickstarter. Enjoy.
Love them or hate them, we all have them. They are counted amongst the darker, more mysterious recesses of the human body, and yet in most of western society there is no law banning their public appearances—only taboo prevents them from being openly flaunted. Shaved naked or furred, they are never listed as person’s most attractive feature. The humble armpit, or aptly abbreviated ‘pit’ if you come from the USA, is much maligned, and so I took it upon myself to lift our furry friends into the poetic realm for a much-needed boost to their public image. Continue reading
When I spoke to my Mum recently she requested I write her a poem. I waited for my mind to fill with poetic epiphany, or a melodramatic Oedipal theme. What I got was something simple, and so, hopefully, it is that little bit more truthful… Continue reading
The randomly picked winner of the poetry competition is?
**** Bea of http://beasbooknook.blogspot.com/ and @BeaCharmed****
Bea is currently thinking about what she would like me to write… I think this could be a fun challenge as I’ve not written poetry ‘on spec’ before. 
If you did not win this time then my commiserations, but who knows? I may find another excuse to do something similar at a later date…
Haiku is a beautiful art form. At its best it is profound, moving, and evocative. All this is achieved with an artful economy of words. But does it go far enough? Is it not simply an expression of yearning; for a higher, purer, more quintessential expression of the poetic art?
The wait for the Transcendent Form is now over! The Muse has come, and a new genre of poetry is born!
I present to you, for your delectation, the world-wide debut of:
Emoti-Poetry: Poetry Without Words. 
Why? Because I fancy the challenge, and how many people do you know who have had a poem written especially for them?
The Prize:
Your very own, unique, personalised short poem. (No, you are not getting a modern version of the Ancient Mariner).
Yours truly is the poet. You will, therefore, have to work out the value of the prize for yourself… 
Continue reading
It’s Boxing Day and what to blog?
We’ve eaten a third of the turkey, and barely touched the hog…
The family’s out in the rain for their annual slog,
Filling their lungs with city-park smog.
Aunty’s sprout allergy kicked in – she’s on the bog,
We’ll call the plumber later for the much needed de-clog.
Junior’s new puppy just laid another Christmas log,
Or is that Junior2’s joke plastic analogue?
Uncle is comatose from too much grog,
His still-lit pipe pouring out that noxious fog.
Teenagers, unsatisfied, digest the catalogues,
All thoughts of love, and selfless giving – empty epilogue.
Boxing Day leaves only the young at heart still agog,
To carry forward their joy of giving into next year’s dialogues.
. —♥—
“Boxing Day – A Christmas Poem” by T. James, © December 2011.
Image by pancaketom offered royalty free from stockfresh.com
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