Best Jovial Poems
There once was a jovial baboon
who loved to put music to spoon
he came to my house
quiet as a grouse
until he pulled out his bassoon
Feb 5 2020
Newest Limerick contest
Wine for two,
I drink alone.
summer cloud flies
dream bud wake up sluggishly
jovial letter
Though I'm in a funk, no need help to get out
To once more wake up and dance and shout
Just like the old days
Big smiles on display
I'm the same jovial dude, of this there's no doubt
JOYFUL JOVIAL JESUS IS LORD--
Joyful, Jesus-is
liege, loving Lord
Just Jealous, jovial Jesus
loves, lean Lord
3/12/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
All was well in the kingdom until squirrely
Burlesque queens with raunchy, yet
Candid sense of humors and delectably
Delightful appetites of various natures began
Eliminating unappreciative uptight relatives and fair weather
Friends who could not empathize and did not care about their show.
Gearing up to annihilate the competition with laughs and giggles, and
Heroically re-build unearned, sullied community-given
Images into what they’ve always believed to be truth-telling, these
Jovial, unified,
Kindred, happy-go lucky souls were soon
Laughing their shoes off with crazed relief and corrupting
My own self-assured Uncle
Nathan who at 19,
Often
Portrayed uptight
Queen Viviana, in his weekly drag queen side show,
Respectfully and with love, and a smidge of irreverence.
So let this be a lesson to Drag Queens
To whom we owe respect.
Under no circumstances should Queen
Viviana’s
Wayward Son,
Xisus, be allowed to wear
Yellow tights, garter belt or dress. Not that
Zanier things have not happened in the palace.
All the time, I feel funny
Strange Gaze Observings
MayDays Come and Go
Great wings I want to show
Whether it is True or False
Whether it is Gay or Not
Whether there is Time or So
Gay Rays Feel my Gaze
Abstain indeed I know Again
Where Is There Time to Play Safe
Feel Good Beyond Reasons
Stop All the Lying Games.
Jolly and kind teacher
jollied the students to have
joy from the simplest things
just by spreading kindness
joining hands with each one
jibbing bad things like greed,
jealousy and anger
My Death might be some beautiful evening of 8th January , 2018 whence I will have heart brimming of contentment and a tummy brimming of snacks .
My death might be bed time stories to your young mates who will burst out in laughter saying 'hey , your grandpa was kinda cool' , breaking all the generation gaps and captioned cracks of boredom , that day I shall be the star of a young night , maybe not a permanent one but surely the star of the night which won't ever grow too old.
Die as if your death were to be a bed time story , a coffee partner , a light joke or a karaoke of early 90's , said a man at his deathbed at ninety , unemotional and unmoved of any heart stroke which wasn't as loud as an aged phart.
Amidst the easy conversations of diseases and diabetes there is a faulty concept of " sorrow is the new cool " says the modern fool . Heartbreak heat is
8 the twerky beat and vaguely judged and surrendered sadness is the depression 2.0 .
Death to us might be an easy succumb to struggle you find strong , stronger than your trekking adventures and passport stamps . Death to us might be a lonely night of cigarettes and victimisation and pitifull stories that would just remain an instagram story for 2 days unlike that of our grandparents .
So dear trendy death , please visit my door when I am done giving all the love that the world desired and not when I wrongly thought I didn't get the love I desired .
Knock my door like a neighbouring child known yet anonymous and not like a part time lover who just gave me life lesson nd I thought it was a suicidal fuss .
I woke up this morning.
poured a cup of coffee.
but it was bitter -
more like wine than coffee.
but if there's nothing wrong with the coffee,
there must be something wrong with me.
I got dressed
and went to the store.
but it was bitterly cold.
more like january than june.
but if the weather isn't wrong,
there must be something wrong with me.
I bought from a list.
I got some cigerettes
but they were awfully expensive.
more like coke than smokes.
but if the price tag isn't wrong,
there must be something wrong with me.
Then my eyes hurt.
and i took off my glasses.
but things became crystal.
more sharp than hazy
but if there's nothing wrong with my glasses,
there must be something wrong me.
I ran back home
communed with television.
but it was drivel, lunacy
more like circus than theatre.
but if there's nothing wrong with television,
there must be something wrong with me.
I heard yelling next door
a crash, something fell.
but it sounded violent
more like anger than resolve.
but if there's nothing wrong with my neighbours,
there must be something wrong with me.
I'm tired now.
eyelids heavy, low like blinds
but alert, i feel uneasy.
more of a disgust than a peace.
but if there's nothing wrong with the world,
then there must be something wrong with me.
JOVIAL SANTA
A jovial Santa named Jack
From Macey’s was given the sack,
When he hung in his grotto,
The following motto.
“It’s cheaper at Kohl’s round the back.”
28th November 2019
Holiday Themed Limerick Poetry contest
Sponsor - Tania Kitchen
Are you,
could you ever
be jovial
And if so, how would
that suit your true
persona, your whole
standing in life?
No, I mean your true
stature, the way you
truly do feel.
Would it be uplifting
and pretty darn grand
day in day out, with ok
sure some setbacks here
and there, and isn't that
to be expected at the very
least.
Or, would there be a
disconcerted what the what
is going on, wickedness
that bubbles up in the background
of your small little guise of a life
jovial means, nope
that is not me, I got
nothing totally figured out
I don't know much,
and yet still,
I'm transfixed in total
amazement
jovial means, I am a zoo
animal mailing it in,
I am no zealot who screams,
"Watch Me now", at the top
of their lungs, as they imagine
their private takeover of all
the world.
And what about the universe you
ask, is it jovial?
Do you secretly scream out,
no, it is pure a Chaotic Freak Show,
Well it could be.
Statistically nobody has no math
to figure that much out.
There could be multiple universes
after all.
I just don't know.
I would like to know more
but I realize I can know only
so much within any life
Am I jovial, a jerkoff, an *******, or
a scumbag?
I choose to be jovial.
given those choices.
J-ovial smile and walk
E-xpress your conviviality;
A-iming to show your joy,
N-o signs of being empty.
A-s you wave to the crowd,
S-eptember fifth Tuesday;
T-he jovial scene in you
R-emains far from gray.
O-pen both your eyes,
L-ook at the pleasant sight;
A-im at what your heart feels,
V-iew the sparkling light.
I-nspire the people around the way you speak or talk;
O-r just impel everyone with jovial smile and walk.
You make gaurantees, yet do you intend to keep them? I doubt it.
My companions say i am significant, am I? i doubt it.
I try to exist a jovial life, but well I? I doubt it.
They all say i am clever, am i truly? I doubt it
Of course they shall keep said vows.
Will they really? I doubt it
I believe their words of kindness.
Do they honestly mean them? I doubt it.
I willl try to no end
I can lie that i will try, shall I? I doubt it.
I truly am clever, I have proof.
Why do i keep telling myself said lies, i have proof? I doubt it
L-ady
O-ccasionally
R-eads
Y-early
P-oem
U-nder
J-ovial
E-xpression's
D-elightful
A-crostic
Topic: Birthday of Lory Pujeda (January 02)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic