A stag’s head erased per fess
Proper and Gules attired
Or differenced with a crescent

Ermine on a fess Sable
three mullets

Or Dexter
a stag regardant
Sable attired and hoofed

Or charged on the body
with an eagle
displayed
of the last gorged
with a collar of SS
and portcullises Gold

sinister a bay horse
bridled saddled and supporting a staff

Proper headed
Or with a banner
Vert fringed and charged with the letters
Y. L. D.
Gold meaning
York light-dragoons

never a need to say yes or no
just say not now instead
to avoid any decision
apply infinite revision
then crawl on back to bed

the words stick to and fro
following where they’re led
when a Harvard debater
says “I’ll catch ya’ later”
they really mean go drop dead

declarations come and go
everyday is condition red
I have not a clue
if what you say is true
your rhetoric is overfed

intellect is friend or foe
trapped deep in your head
words are often mis-used
context cannot be refused
if you believe you believe what was said

http://teeist.tumblr.com

thank you hello poetry
you helped me find a way
to post and dream and fly
sharing thoughts at play
my work will now be found
at a blog called jimmy tee
with teeism by the pound
in our world menagerie

so long

the attraction must be difficult to resist
the distance comforting
advertised as virtual but falls short

body language, nervous ticks or the lack of them
are a big part of collective contact
you know, two or more eternal souls in a room

that sense of nervousness, self doubt,
not because of the people involved
but meeting other sufferers of modern times

the emperor has new clothes
loneliness, few degrees of separation
nothing social about society

overdosed on poetry
hearing, composing, reading
searching for meaning
in everything literal
what exactly does my breakfast indicate ?
how to contain the overwhelming exuberance
of the spring day before me ?
is there a consistent theme throughout
my handling of mundane chores ?
are my HP printer problems merely a suggestion of life’s turmoil ?
a long break is needed
my head is tired

with their great drooping wings
the ospreys returned yesterday
to scan the raging snowmelt for churned up meals
to set up nest in order to begin the process
of egg to chick to selfish fledgling to conspicuous adult
it is tempting to apply human traits to the natural world
[especially for a poet]
but in this case we will work on an unnatural premise
reaching the small point of contentment
in the form of a fish hawk being
putting aside our never ending need for understanding
and stop measuring beauty and form