Best Bernice Poems
When blossoms fall
From the tree of life
Their ash will feed its roots
And bloom away the strife
These ambassadors of hearts and smiles
And handshakes
These caretakers of souls
Theses brothers and sisters
And mothers and fathers
And husbands and wives
And grandmothers and grandfathers
And friends of friends of friends
Who hugged life with happiness
And white orchids
Who embraced the sick without fear
Who opened homes to students
Who joined faiths
Who shared humor
Who laughed with gentle spirit
Who cooked meals for neighbors
Who knew community
These blossoms from the tree of life
Of life
Of life
Blooming again and again and again
No evil shall stop these blossoms
More life will prevail
More trees will bloom
Like vines on hills blooming in the sun
Like wild flowers in fields
And rose bushes in gardens
Sweet roses, blooming for 97 years
Nothing will stop the multiflora rose
Or honeysuckle or wisteria or lantana
They will bloom in spite of prejudice
In spite of bias
In spite of hostility
In spite of this drought of kindness
These blossoms
Of Irving
Of Melvin
Of Rose
Of Bernice and Sylvan
Of Jerry
Of Joyce
Of Richard
Of Daniel
Of Cecil and David
Will come back year after year after year
And our Trees of Lives
Will grow taller and stronger
And beneath their shade
We all will rest in peace.
The old woman argued relentlessly, her case.
Resolute, she raved in her conviction;
two thousand and one reasons were there for her to be mad.
Eleven was given to questioning eyes.
It was September,
and Bernice brought home the bourgeois man,
and the two fell
from the pedestal
they held among friends in the big city,
(the city) a melting pot,
now a city in affliction.
Bernice’s brown eyes combed the neighborhood;
two boys, with open arms,
played aero planes;
Across the street,
the rug pilot laughed his ass off
as if mocking the bourgeois man,
and his woman hid her face in rags …,
in degradation –
but her sad eyes openly mourned her son’s suicide.
Grief of that magnitude brings offense,
and the bourgeois man was red with wrath,
and he abhors the old woman
with every inch of his being.
Racism was reversed.
He avowed by God to ruin the rug pilot,
and the people that loved him consented.
Hearts were left to wonder
what makes men so cruel.
The reasons for the old woman’s rant was explicable,
and of the grounds for the revenge
the negros conceded,
in only one instance.
Revenge was foreseeable,
and the spirit breeds more phobias.
In a land far away lived a fairy named Bernice
Not a typical name for a fairy, I do belieth
How about that Sir John John
I just wave my magic wand wand
Words magically rhyme without any grief
© Jack Ellison 2015
december fly buzzing by
how on earth did you survive
frozen cold outside
snow drifts waist high
how are you alive
december fly
december fly buzzing by
my naps slumber you deny
bzzz bzzz bzzz
over my head you whiz
how i wish you dead
but you wing me instead
hovering over my naps bed
december fly
why why oh why
are you still alive
nasty noisy naughty december fly
december fly buzzing by
erasing my afternoon lullaby
happily you swoosh by
dive bombing my tired eyes
waving hands, a moan and sigh
up i slouch sitting on the couch
swing a pillow at the nasty fellow
december fly now you hide
peace and quiet now reside
i know your game so coy and sly
mean so mean december fly
i place the swatter on the coffee table
i recline to rest feeling able
if he dares awaken me again
i'll swing and swat the life out of him
beware december fly
this very afternoon you die
but a yawn and pillow soft
i again nod off
BZZZZZZZ!!!!
SWAT!
the portrait of our dear aunt bernice
now has a smashed fly in her teeth
hope i clean it after i finish my rest
could be a story for our evening guest
sweet dreams and goodbye
in deep winter no longer alive
rest in pieces little december fly
The Truth That Must Apply
I’m testing fate for now, resembling a vision,
A reality hit the present, world-wide division,
Rapist on the loose yet stoners on death row,
Nowadays reality, freedom where’d it go?
We vow to live stress-free, but the opposite applies,
Why does all authority get away with all these lies?
Homeless on the rise, they don’t have a say,
Innocent in my home, until they take it away.
Where is the freedom, where is the promised rights?
Not in this lifetime, while there’s children alone in the nights.
Narcotics taking over, leaving the economy on there last breath,
Always remember the end, jails, institutions and death.
Loyalty is losing its meaning; the world’s turning in,
No ones better than anyone else, we all do our daily sin.
The facilities are over packing, maybe it’s a sign,
It sickens me that some inmates don’t see the sun shine,
Race against each race, violence on the rise,
Global discrimination, National leaders breaking ties.
Inflation over exaggerating, leaving people with out homes,
Federally involved technology, sending drone type items that roams.
-Nicholette Bernice Perry”
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there's a bridge
built in spite of
doubt, fear, and, division,
It was built with patience
and a caring Love
The builder's mastered
time to serve each other
with a perfect Love
like watching the
sun rise in smiles
they labored all
while watching
and waiting on
God's Glory
Light to the world
with purpose
a humor that eases
with a "Good Morning"
like watching a Graceful
Dance with Heavenly tunes
Grace
Mercy
And Service
Effectively
Love built it
A bridge to
cross turbulent
waters
Withstanding
Turmoil
Their hands perfectly
crafted a structure
that's a Legacy
reflection of
Alpha and Omega
The Creator's
Authority authored
and merged their lives
into inspiration to
let Love be a
Power that prevails
across space and time
There's a Hope
in their Heart
that reaches deeper
than the seven seas
a magical embrace
allowing them
to walk on the waters
Of the mind
The evidence of
God's blessings
Not even death can
separate,
they have
Built a bridge
on a now Faith
All for Our tomorrow's
When God called one
the other remains
to write the story
as evidence of how
Eternal
A Love
like the Jennings
Is Supreme..............
Kevin GURU©2020
The Example of Love
Aunt Bernice and Uncle Wilbur
Bernice May
1899-1918
Emma and me in 1916,
Spent many a summer Monday morning,
Over there, across Citrus Road,
In old decrepit Clark Cemetery,
Prancing and picnicking amidst
The majestic stone monuments and markers,
Of the redeemed and the damned alike.
Talking and dreaming of later days and years,
Wondering aloud with faraway stares,
Together in our starched skirts
And matching silk stockings,
Of futile futures with men we would never meet.
But oh, the crazy tales we told each other,
Tales of tricks and secrets,
The like of which would put,
The devil himself to blush!
So what is my message to you-
The present alive and the future dead?-
It is this: Seek the unseen.
This is a poem that I am asking all who read it share today. This would have been Holly's birthday. There is no life that is without meaning, there are none of us that should ever be forgotten
Who will remember Holly
Who will remember Holly
Some people might ask
Was she famous
An actress
A singer
Was she on television
Or the radio
Who was she
She was a mother
A daughter
A sister
And friend
She was a woman
One many of you
Will easily be able
To relate with
A single mother
Who had 2 wonderful children
One nine
The other only one
A woman who worked very hard
At UPS
To try and keep a roof over their head
And food upon the table
She was a person
Most people would say
Was someone
That you would want to meet
She was happy
And tried to bring that happiness
Into the lives
Of all around her
She was the one
Who would insist that you had cake
On your birthday
And would do everything she could
To ensure that this would happen
You might find yourself asking
Repeating a question
One that I have asked you before
Who will remember Holly
But the question you should be asking
Is
Why
Holly was a wonderful woman
A single mother
A mother of two children
Whose life was cut tragically short
For at the age of 31
Someone came into her house
And took away
Her life
Today
That someone is still out there
And her mother and father
Alice and Bobby
Are left to care for her children
She was the person
The one special friend in my life
Who first asked this question
Who will remember Holly
My answer to her tonight
Is that I always will
And hopefully
Now you will too
Ed Roberts
12/05/15
We never lose the ones we love
Not if we carry the smallest piece of them
Forever
In our hearts
Written for
Holly Bernice Van Auken
2/6/83 – 4/7/14
She now waits for her family in Heaven
I mustn’t shiver I mustn’t quake
Alas, of late
I have more than one candidate
My 1st favorite teacher is…
Mrs. Hammin my teacher with green hair
In the six grade she set the stage
For that I give a grand hip-hip Hooray
And coming in 2nd but yet ties for first place
Is my eighth grade junior high teacher Miss Hanger
She’d was into black history you must know your origins
Or she’s shame you right down to your roots, WOW! Ya
You must be first obedient to God Country and parents
I was chosen as one of the three in junior high to receive
Junior Achievement Award (for just being me) hey!
Also last but not least she too, ties for 1st place
It an ex-Nun, Military woman Bernice Godowski
Her stern pleasantry and writing mastery
She sparked me in creativity in my creative writing class
You see reading, writing so exciting
Verses and lore’s that’s what I glean and gotten
I thank God these educating sisters. . .
All three tie it’s my decision
Mrs. Hammin
Mrs. Hanger
Miss. Godowski
My Favorite Teacher or Professor is…
#2 Place Placement in Contest
Favorite Teacher or Professor Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke |
I Still Wait
I wrote poems and sang songs to make the love I had more alive
Wrote endless passages tryina explain what my heart sang
I tried the best I could to make the words I said more meaningful
Stayed up at night tryina find ways to hold and touch you right
I paused every moment I had with you
Shut the whole world out for there was you
I begged and I prayed that I find ways to love you right
Asked for the strength to be there for you
I stayed even when my heart ached from the looks they gave you
Saw the thirst in their eyes whenever they looked at you
I knew some would know how to touch you and some, to hold you
But again, I knew neither would love you like I did
They had all the right words to say
Had all the right ways to feed what you long desired
And I knew you'd easily fall for you stayed with me who couldn't
Even though you said I was all you needed, I knew you needed more
I saw how happy you got when with them, a happy I never saw reflect when with me
I know I sparked a certain happy in you but it was never as long
I still hope I could, that I could love you just as you wish
But again I'm still the same person, the me that I was if not better
And deep in my heart, my love whispers your name
Once more longing to keep you.
Copyright © Bernice Makotanyane | Year Posted 2018
Agnus & Esther
there once lived two witches alone in a barren home
locked away from he outside world but still social
the pair were there own best friends
Each grew their hair very long
they had a cat named Bernice that would frequently drink
Each had their own ritual to honor the dead
What was going on inside their heads?
On one such encounter really rare for the pair
A village photographer capture the true eerie essence of them
Satanic demonstrations that would spill the girls around in mid air
They were once friends with a nearby Warlock but he had died
Agnus cried but it never seemed to bother Esther
The both live a quaint village of Croate, Minnesota
They exist to spread their faith as a true Wiccan sect
They make there living by selling fruits & vegetables on their stand
Neighbors think they are really whacked out & crazy
But the pair was never found to be lazy
A man with love… is a happy man to think of
But
A man with no woman to rely on
Is a man so lonely so dead and gone
A man with room and broad… is a shut in opened man turn cold
But
A man with no home to call his own
Is a man with few clothes poorly with no money and depends on loans
A man with friends is a lonely shatter man
But
A man with no enemies is one who runs from Freddy, Dick and Dan
Is just a man trapped behind two pool balls queue sticks and…
A man with no smile… is a man without laughter
But
A man with no face to express himself
Is a man who will be exposed to bedevilment
Think about it
Don’t just try to do without it
Just try to remember that
Without no smile it’s like a baseball player without his bat, glove and ball
A man with no smile
Is like a poorly ragged fatherless child
9/11/70
Written words by James Edward Lee © 1970
From Miss Bernice Godowski Creative Writing Class
North High School
Original written under the name of AKA"pen name"),pseudonym Michael Block
Do you know anything about the various
Time pieces that are on different lengths
Of thin chain dangling from the forest trees?
Are you or some one you know missing a
Time piece?
Did people actually abandon these things?
Were they stolen or did they become a
Payment to some unknown wing Banshee
To ward off an unexpected catastrophe.
Where are the forestry police?
Do you know anything about the various
Time pieces that are on different lengths
Of thin chain dangling from the forest trees?
This is a mystery.
It will be a feather in some ones cap if they
Can solve this theft ring master piece.
Did people actually abandon these things?
Were they stolen or did they become a
Payment to some unknown wing Banshee.
I will talk to all the woodland folk brownies,
Elves, and I will start with the wood fairy.
He might have some information for my
Investigation that he will release.
Do you know anything about the various
Time pieces that are on different lengths
Of thin chain dangling from the forest trees?
Well! I did see
A sparkle as the sun hit something metal
Or flashy in the mouth of the crow named
Bernice.
Did people actually abandon these things?
Were they stolen or did they become a
Payment to some unknown wing Banshee.
When I called out her name she dropped
What was in her mouth and kept going on
Her journey.
Thank you so much you have been very
Helpful. I will put out an all points bulletin
Right away. Crows love shiney and sparkly
Things. Don't leave anything that can be
Taken by the crows on your picnic table.
We will try to give everyone back their
Watch as a lot of them are still very nice.
If you all help us with this we should see
A very noticeable theft decrease.
Do you know anything about the various
Time pieces that are on different lengths
Of thin chain dangling from the forest trees?
Did people actually abandon these things?
Were they stolen or did they become a
Payment to some unknown wing Banshee.
Hell, no, no, no
I don’t believe there is no way there ain’t NO God;
No, no
Oh no, no, no
Hell, knows no, no, no, no
There ain’t, ain’t no God
You all have ta show me
Cause I ain’’t believing
Hell, no, no, no, I don’t believe there’s NO God
Who made the trees, not man
Who made the universe, I can’t
I was born yet I’ve died;
I shed tears yet I haven’t cried;
Why, is it so hard when I’m sure there is no God?
Hell, no, no, no
I don’t believe there is no way there ain’t NO God;
No, no
Oh no, no, no
Hell, knows no, no, no, no
There ain’t, ain’t know God
You all have ta show me
Cause I ain’’t believing
Who made you boy, man, dog, fish whatever you wished (to be called)
For you have sinned you’ve professed to believe in Lucifer Satan first;
You wish yourself to hell cause heave ain’t no real place for ya;
There ain’t no God
Yes it is
Where is He at
He’s right here
There ain’t no God……He’s He real
There ain’t no God…..Yes He is
There ain’t no God…..He not here, yes He is He is right, right here;
There ain’t no God……He’s He real
There ain’t no God…..Yes He is
There ain’t no God……He’s He real
There ain’t no God…..Yes He is
There ain’t no God…..He not here, yes He is He is right, right here;
There ain’t no God……He’s He real
There ain’t no God…..Yes He is, He is real, He’s right here
Don’t chance it or denounce it;
At deaths door you will surely truly know
When EVERY KNEE SHALL BOW AND CONFESS THAT HE IS LORD
5/1/70
Written words & arranged music by
James Edward Lee 1970 ©
~Poem was written in 1970~
" I'm not atheist this verse I wrote in high school for my Creative Writing Class"
From Miss Bernice Godowski Creative Writing Class North High School
Bernie Loves His Gloves
Bernie loves his gloves
Which were sent from God above
with two turtle doves
through thick and thin
Bernie wearing gloves has been
so give him more skin
Except during pandemic.
Bernie has been thrilled
with gloves his bedroom is filled
overflowed and spilled
rules Bernie bended
wore his gloves which are splendid
more laws amended
gloves Bernie would wear
after taring out his hair
head has become bare
Bernie will bake a cake
wear both gloves his wife would make
later threw in lake
while wearing a tan
Bernice received gloves from a fan
which soon they would ban