Abortive Poems

Stars Crossways

They came together, love entwined,
When stars in heaven were aligned.
But their love hit a hurdle,
When their vinaigrette failed to curdle,
Their blitz emulsification ill-fated,
leaving oil and vinegar separated.
They crossed their fingers together,
Looked up at the sky, to see whether
The stars had crossed to unsupportive.
Sure enough, the stars were abortive.
So they went their separate ways.
Pledging to try again on better days,
When double-crossing stars crossways
Had unclasped to an uncrossed phase,
And they could dump their mayonnaise.

Poetry Soup Is Supportive

Chances she had to be disruptive,
Like others try out The Abortive
And like them unleash The Eruptive,
But she chose to be The Supportive:
For the legs that hop a bit a prop,
To pens asking for more ink "Don't stop".

Soup  I thank for proving me active
On matters hyping not The Native.
Tower she does with clean objective,
Her actions shaming The Subjective!

What a lovely meeting in Soup Hall
For slacking verses an overhaul;
Great ideas rolling like football,
Before Doubting Thomas I stand tall!

Stay the Course

No deeply rooted history,
nor implied ordered liberty,
abortion, gutted like a trout,
dismembered, lies there, bleeding out.

Hyperbole is through the roof,
a million times more fun than truth,
and so all things report as true;
they’re coming for gay marriage, too.

The court is not deciding fates;
that can is kicked back to the states.
Now each will rank on published lists:
abortive destination trips.

Chasm widens on the issue:
right to life or useless tissue.
More than ever, we decide
to separate and to divide.

Pro-life Christians must up their game,
not being pro-life just in name.
This is a war, if one will dare,
‘gainst darker forces in the air.

Though victory, hard-fought, was won,
this, a mere skirmish, not that one.
Though joined to us in life and pain,
till His return, work still remains.

With hope, we see a foretaste grand
of life preserved throughout the land.
He is our motivating force,
so we press on, we stay the course.

Hoarding

My home is filled with degrading losses. 
Instruments that I didn't learn to play. 
Seeds that abortive to spring up
Backyard hot tub is now stage.
Books bought but never read,
Plants that perished
Dreadful seats
And me.
Trite

Written: May 31, 2022

Slave To Time

A second is defiant 
a minute is aggressive towards my dreams
flourishes a formidable mental anarchy
I creep confidently by the tail of a second
To the dejection of sympathizers
The patience of my sympathizers tires me
Waiting for the minute of abortive strife
Anticipated steps abrogated
Triumphant move trails the second
When fear surrogates confidence
Hope carries away the receiving end
Pain being exacerbated by giving
To bond the two sides
For passionate diffusion
Carrying hope together
Sending waves beyond normal.

The prologue was so pulsating
With punitive ideas meant to probate
pummeling the frail wasn't prolific
the effort of maternal Ponto punch,
but made it abreast with the potent

pseudo abrogate of stitch made it puck
the accord was to prelude penal
disloyalty chastens from pudenda
we swore the cause by purity
now we stand exhibiting 
enjoying our terrifying purl

Struggle Yet

Tick, tick I hear the clock whispering,
whispering to my heart and soul,
the words of wisdom, it whispers. 
Put in more effort, it says.
But the more effort I put in,
 reaching my goals look like an illusion.

Working under the scorching sun has been unto thee food,
 The sweet from my body, my water
And pressure my spouse
Hard work has ceased to be the way to success
Since my skin color has replaced it.

The less privileged hope seems to be darker than Halloween,
and their future plans close to abortive.
Depravity unto us like siblings,
See nothing wrong, those benefitting from it.
 hopes seem to fade,
depression, and hardship unto thee as a best friend.
.

I thought dirty hands were a sign of clean money? 
should I follow their wide path?
should I still stick to my narrow path?
this narrow path that looks endless?
will I ever wake up from this nightmare?
These questions keep dancing at my foot.


 Staying up at night has been my hobby
my life seems empty and void,
life has chosen foul to me,
I keep repeating these words to myself.

I should get rid of all these negativity
I know one day the sun shall shine on me.

Yet I Rise As Nazi Knee

Yet i rise
ThanX poetry
soup or is it crap
as
algorithms
are abortive

Worshiping Idol Only For You

courteous living life I had
as if in dreamy land
where autumnal breeze
brought your whispering and soft kiss,
where flying flower the butterfly
brought your sophisticated hug,
where the sinuous river
played a rhythm of our heart unity

but now fall in abortive seclusion without you
hopeless conciliation life donates
intimacy with shouting hellish insects,
I'm confined my worshiping idol
only for you o my love
in my life
I adore you 


-Tuesday, July 23, 2019 Chattogram

Abortive Men

on others putting
the blame is a habit of
abortive peoples

a show of fake blame
the lazy men and women
Love talk more than work

Apocalypse---

Apocalypse---

Abortive gorgons cling.
Political messiahs creep.
Other dystopias eschew.
Called messiahs lament.
American messiahs laze.
Lyrical raptures luxuriate.
Youthful doomsayers linger.
Private revelations lurk.
Startling revelations cower.
Environmental catastrophes cavort.


3/8/19
Written by James Edward Lee Sr.©2019

As Scarecrow

Late October
On the harem of love
 November rain is ready to blow 
Candle light is missing 
Wind is hissing like hidden snake 
O' Beloved! The dark of eve ravishes me 
Necropolis greets me to the foggy midnight 
Neither grave yard nor the ghostly knell 
Fall on me the far around.
Wind of revenge, wind of hate, wind of blood 
Sings the songs of winter's pregnancy 
The moon live on abortive faculty 
All of me stand still before the shining sun as scarecrow


-October 25, 2018 Chattogram

Coffee Addiction

Coffee Addiction

Calibrating coffee homeostasis flows easily back and forth

On the ‘high’-way of instant craze and crave of gratification

'Feodor' true to his name slurps the divine gift all day to rise

From moody withdrawal of night slumber slumping aground 

Energetic vigour and buoyant exuberance alights from 

Exhaustion brought on by life and pulsating caffeine’s fix


Abortive attempts to reduce hooked intake accrued no success 

Doomed at one time and in lack of hot water 'Feodor' even

Dissolved coffee in Cola to feed effervescent dependence

Imbalanced the mixture blew up but nourished his need

Caressed by foam on his face he confronted his addiction

To vow not to drink less tropical grind but have water 

In sufficient vital supplies at all times to keep well afloat

On balance his highs derived from his beverage of choice

Navigate his depression much better than Cocaine or booze

30th November

Tears of the Unborn Child

Incoming to live 
I died unborn, and 
I don't know if I did 
Something wrong. 

Don't play on being bemused 
Mom, 
As I'm gone 
Now. 

Why the killing of the unknown me 
I also did not know you 
Nor the world's beauty, 
You know I'm true. 

I was assured to life by two 
Participants, you and dad 
I took all the believe I had, 
For you mom are to give birth. 

I thought I was under warthog 
Shadow, therefore not vulnerable, 
Not knowing you wanted me gone, 
Now I'm not available, 
Honestly you're not responsible. 

You terminated my life, 
Did abortion,
And I'm now abortive, 
Failed to cruise to living. 
I died unborn.

The Broken World

We beheld the beauty of the first garden in originality
Life in its simplicity
An egalitarian world
Needs and wants afar us
We neither pray nor fast to feed belly 
We commune and fellowship face to face
Flesh and spirit is one
Death abortive

The proclaim wisdom acclaimed by man
Hamper it intended mission
Placed us amidst mess
Deviation from the state of merriment, rest, respite, jollity 
Who is to be blame?
The creator, the created perhaps the mediator
The blameless remain irreproachable
They’re will wheel us to this end
Selfish being
End of discussion hope for a new heaven

Behold you are the garden  
The seed to design second palace
Feed the feeble
The tree that shelter the vagabond yet build bridges
The river that giveth life
The Peace that accommodate conflict yet combat evils
You’re second Adam
Special breed ordained to bring heaven on earth

Awake!!!
The mediator yet live
It intended mission yet live
Steal, kill and destroy
Girdle your heart and take your position
Now you are gods.
Build your dreamed world 
Habitable for all

Disvirgined Truth

DISVIRGINED TRUTH

We don’t have enough time left to check time
Many left as too much couldn’t get enough
Stranded in the middle of no where with no dime
The lord will provide; yet, journey still too tough
This is a historical case we all presumed
Based on facts fore-known; this is presumptive
Reasonably not the worst we all assumed
Mission not accomplished became abortive.

On air, same plane, different pilots
On a coming together, different cohorts
Our problems too enormous, might capsize us
Engulfed in cloudy flames, critics criticize us
Sin is fun, fun is sin; poison tasting so sweet
Let the apostles wash their heads, Jesus will wash their feet
Time to leave the multitude and reach the altitude
Time to ignore our oppositions and maintain our positions.

Many prophets, same quest, different prophesies
Ambition is priceless, same quest, different emphases 
We are here for destiny sake, one mission
Starting to keep moving, confused vision
Time to focus and get it
Our ‘F’ is for forget it 
Kiss it and stuck your tongue
Even we are wrong.





...LORDVIP...

• Short Abortive Poems
• Famous Abortive Poems
• Best Abortive Poems
• Read Abortive Poems
• Long Abortive Poems
• Abortive Quotes