.
'tiz hampered
twixt'd
ooooh thuh storiez
each mine duke's digits
would
'pon slip
spill
each their own
tome
e.g.
i reach'd 'low
whence 'witch'd
warm
(((shnap)))
thus thuh
bard born'd
were
this way
There once was a doctor who did circumcisions
He was well known for his bad decisions
Sadly enough alas and alack
One day he slipped and got the sack
From his colleagues he got much derision.
Right in the middle of a massive
Walmart parking lot
An enterprising young lady
preyed on cars in a most unusual way
Weaving in and out of crowded lanes with consummate skill
she soaped up every windshield for free - no charge - no bill
Her calling card sticking out from the wipers at a hyper-extended angle
she fully expected to cash in on her ludicrous finagle…
But alas and alack, her business was about to go ka-plooey
For just as she sponged extra soap on her two-hundredth car
The sheriff of the town approached her, trying not to grin
“If you wipe down all them windshields, darling
~ ~ I may not put you behind bars”
Softly, she lobbed the serve across my heart
it fell harmlessly on my arm
Intended not to tear me apart
only a harbinger of harm
Her game gained traction soon enough
darts and arrows whizzing ‘cross the net
Stung my forehead where I once was tough
her ringing accusations captured the first set
My counsel – my coach – gave me his advice
not to fight fire with fire, which never works
He’d seen it fail not once, but twice
wouldn’t let me look like a jerk…
Alas and alack, to no avail, as a forehand smash
won her the trophy, the kids, and all my cash
A merger of holidays was proposed
Young hearts for it
The elderly opposed
Fiercely debated
Bitter grew the divide
Neither young nor old
Could speak peaceably
to the other side…
The holy spirit waded
into the fray
its magical mix infused
love and brotherhood...
Alas and alack
~ Humankind refused
Abraham dared to challenge the Lord
not to destroy Sodom if fifty righteous men be found
Alas and alack, that just wasn’t to be
yet Abraham continued his fruitless go-round
What if 45, 40, 30, 20, what if only ten
But in Sodom there weren’t any fine men
The Lord knew Abe’s quest was hopeless, but He played right along
which got me to thinking, maybe the Lord was all wrong
Yet Abraham saw nothing in it; he went back to his place
And so too should I – though I earn not a tad of God’s grace
What does it mean to think
to have thoughts
to have ideas and opinions
to have likes and dislikes
to trust and to distrust
to dream, to contemplate, to analyse
to plan, to postpone
to love, to hate
some thoughts remain inside
some thoughts are spoken out loud
what is it
this intangible that we call thought
this thing called thinking
who or what is doing it
who or what decides the topic
the stance, the angle
we are the thinkers
but we are seated back there in the carriage
mere passengers
we are also up front in the caboose
shovelling the coal
hand on the throttle, hand on the brake
doing the driving
we are both passenger and driver
my immediate thought is
how can that be
I have come to realise that it can be
simply because it can and is
that at least is my thought on the subject
that is what I think
I do however harbour this thought
what does it all mean
I think that I have thought enough
all this thinking has made me weary
I will now go and lie down
and let both the passenger in the carriage
and driver in the caboose
guide my thoughts where they must
and I will dutifully follow
alack and alas
what does it mean to think.
O how had I always fallen back;
With days full of retrogressions, alack!
I was degenerate;
Surely a youth of no notable rate.
My existence was like an ungodly song
With defiled rhythms was it sung
Wherewith I dreamed no dream
And saw no, not a gleam
For there was no light in me to reflect;
So my star could take no effect.
I was consumed by the darkness
Of mundane blissfulness,
Which was deceptive to inward madness.
I thought I was living happily;
Alas! I was dying virtually,
Forgetful that Life could wane out for itself alone
And hand over me to my Maker whom I never knew.
But there came an hour
At the Annual National Campus Community Congress
Of the Deeper Life campus fellowship
Entitled `Excelsior`
For bringing Life and Hope to intellectuals
And equipping them to reach the utmost height:
Where I wholly got transformed.
I was taught to be purposeful, and not lust to be conformed
I could then soar to the farthest height
And ignited became my light
Revived to live for Christ the Saviour
After which I farewelled failure.
Today I've decided
Not to be misguided
By negative feelings
I'm sick to the teeth
Of feelings of grief
Overpowering and revealing
My negative approach
Requires a coach
So my thoughts
Are more decisive
Negativity you see
It is of no use to me
I think it is derisive
So I will try today
To throw negativity away
And be a more positive person
If negativity creeps in
I'll throw it in the bin
Telling it I have an aversion
I may have left it too late.
To illuminate
My mind into positive thinking
I do not feel that strong
It hasn't been long
Before my positive thoughts
Start shrinking
Alas and Alack
Please hurry back
My thinking is getting hazy
I've had enough
Of this philosophical stuff
My negativity has driven me crazy
Shadows surround me in
my den of iniquity
Satanic sprites flit across walls
faint traces of smoke inhabit the halls
I draw forth my sword
Lunge at the air
Alas and alack ~
I've laid my Muse bare
Kangaroos bounce lower
for tis the season
some roo laze on their backs
smoke electric cigarettes
Green moments
are discovered in Antarctica
Give your thanks America
give us your huddled elves
your heaving tinsel mountains
sprinkle all our glary nights
Wild-eyed are the rug-rats
they expect a baby-born
one bearing gifts from Toyland
alas alack the three wise guys
took a wrong left in the sand
and found themselves Outback
they waltz now around the billabongs
seeking the vapor trails of large marsupials
and they, the Aussie big boppers
the hoppers, are just chilling
unwilling to face more festive day's
nor shovel up or scoop
yet more reindeer poop
The contests number 22
Oh, dear, oh my, what should I do
I must choose one
I must, I think
My printer’s running out of ink
I’ll pick a theme
A gentle dream
That ends up in
A freakin’ scream.
I’ll write a brilliant
Subtle Sonnet
Before it’s done
Already torn it.
Perhaps a bit of freeing verse
Meter and a line break curse
That taunts the temper of the muse
To hissy fits of “No!! You Choose.”
Mayhap I’ll wrestle with just one
Pick a form and hope it’s fun
Alas, alack, call it by name
This poetry - this demon’s game.
John G. Lawless
©9/16/2022
O, to write verse steamy and romantic
I perceived as a treat semantic
Alas and alack, 'twas an anvil's press
A sea-wreck, I, of a murderess
He chose to dine on the seas of time
to drink from Cinderella's slipper
Alas and alack, the glass did crack ~
sparkling champagne awash in kipper
A wealthy old man in his fifties,
Loved a girl he thought was just nifty.
Said, Will you marry me,
I'm just fifty-three?
But she married a man in his sixties.
The old man did not take this lightly,
And his friends warned him she was flighty.
He wanted her back,
But alas and alack,
She'll return on the day you turn ninety.
The young girl's first husband did die.
She returned to her first love to cry.
Said, Will you marry me,
I'm as lost as can be?
He said, Not this time but nice try.
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