Best Justin Poems
I wear the flame of your name,
traced in jaguar herbs
between pearl blades of angels,
pulling in the heat of your wildfire...
My soul branded with a burning love feather
molten madness stroking the light rebellious,
Your identity a touch of kissing curves,
I am mantled with a cloak of star rain...
Addicted, engrossed,
as my silhouette aches to be drenched
in rivers of your rushing rhymes,
breathing nothing but the dream
of being chained
to the footprints of your soul...
Tethered to the stride of my soul
heartbeat warmly pained,
You follow with yielding scream
my attention on your pulsing eyes,
I spread open the vellum
of poetry achingly inked,
scent of rose melting frost...
I've witnessed them christen
my night as lethal,
their prayers painting me as sin,
while I entomb their accusations
in a blood stained envelope,
laid to rest in a casket of poisoned lilies,
for I am no longer their Lilith
crowned with silken serpents,
jeweled in jinxed jasmines,
I am the rose gold rays of sunrise,
wrapping you in blushing silence...
But if love were your ink,
what would you bleed?
Within your bloom there is a violet innocence,
weaponized once for ritual license
a jewelry box of black magic temptations,
Tiara of bloodstones broken for love repentance,
A Goddess become Woman trueth,
the coffin become catalyst to living tears,
elegant gown now simple linen of lilac hope,
reputation now means nothing before heart's divinations,
You are no harpy, you are my revelation,
You are love beautiful,
the reason for my passion crystal...
J.A.B.
I.E
You possess me with those eyes of pyromania
a tidal wave of temptation thrashing into my need for euphoria
romanticized on appetite for agile reckoning of kiss ravishing, harnessing my hysteria,
plumed with lashes lent from love's wings, curling wet wishing
brows preened sexy mean, fur strip stiring me,
hypnotized by your hot umber rings
I learn how suspense stings
circles of crave unbuckling my brazen brandishing,
deep set on my desire I'm unraveling for the vixen fire, heart sweating,
born from the brown of beauty's sweetest warmth
eyes that bite and suck the stress
right out of my soul's duress,
for you I go forth...
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
You possess me with those eyes of eagle blue
you use a single glance my hesitancy to unglue
soaring in the sky of my sweetened fantasy
these blue crystal orbs foretell of ecstasy
But first...the hunt...looking for prey - it's true
it's you - the Eagle
brutally brave and fiercely famished
you glide on the wind of my desire
your wings ablaze with fire
your eyes fierce, Oh, how they pierce
again and again
my inner sanctum deep
their hue puts the sky to shame
demanding passion and cravings untame
they bore deep into me
slashing bonds of inhibition free
Our eyes speak
Brown and Blue
Me and You...
in your eyes the need to seize
in mine, the need to please
yours dominate
mine capitulate
yours subjugate
mine consummate,
your eyes speak...
mine respond...Bonded, we belong
Eagle and Dove
poetry love
Our eyes speak...
A Collaboration Made From The Quills Of Justin & Eileen
Of the many stars I have seen,
Justin, you are by far the most exquisite
I love how you just mold into my heart,
Sifting the words we share part by part,
Lighting the path to inspiration,
Attaining your lightning connotation
I love how you relate to my struggles,
Allowing my feet to rest on your gentle wings,
How your loving eyes look in-between the lines,
To see inside such poetry, the divine intertwine
You do not waste your time in the sky,
Rising every moment in your heightening knowledge
You burn brighter for what matters
You hold tighter to the light with gladness,
And you are not afraid in the prowling wilderness
You are never afraid to express your genius
Long ago, I had wandered in the haze of many a soul
Closed and withdrawn in the strolls of dark foes
In your luminous presence, you awakened this dreamer
My eyes widening in the unity of word-weavers
To access your bloom was to shatter all doom
And in awe, I aspired to be a part of you
I love that you care of my virtues,
How you give and give tremendously
How we understand each other in synchronizing energy out of this world
I love that you will feel my heart, as I do yours
I will love these truths forevermore
A tribute to this burning star is never enough
You have inspired me beyond what I can see
Beyond what dreams a dreamer be
And for that, I must thank you,
As you persevere in your incomparable brightness
To illuminate my path, and our paths,
Into the extraordinary, eternal unearthing of fate, fervor and fortune
For the “Tribute: Poetry Contest”
Sponsored by The Silent One
August 4th, 2015
The key is to recognize, that we as instruments can only create music, if the breath of God blows through our lives.
Staring in the mirror when I'm down with these scissors I found.
With my wrists out and prescription lids littered around.
I've scribbled out a bitter letter in wicked accounts and written down twisted sentences in crimson.
I drown in no bounds it got me tripping out grouchy for outlets.
Now my hound pulls at my trousers.
When I'm face down drowsy with a mouth full of downers.
I'm pale looking clownish.
I ain't clowning around, see my self esteem floundering.
Out for the count as hells demons seen prowling around me proudly twisting and dancing entrancing.
Slipping away fast last vision left glancing enhanced with a mixture of doubt.
Knowing there's no one to laugh with and be found here alone with a sinister frown.
I've got to get out.
Haunted in this mysterious house that time forgot.
A place where damp rises and shrouded in all types of moss and lichen, rotting with the slime from condensation.
A sodden formed Forrest where I'm under sedation.
A clock work decision I watch myself gazing transfixed on my mission across amazing mazes.
As dreams fade into sight I stay silently praying.
Embracing the night watching day light escaping.
Remain in this safe haven I'm taken away safely remaining unshaken, grey and unshaven, eight shades of my aura shadows the ravens.
The creature with talons and the beak of eagle seen clutching a talisman to defeat it's evil.
I see through people. Phycic and tight lipped.
Leaving hindsight to guide you through life is wisest.
Am I dying or buying my time in this crises like I'm finally deep in abyss.
Analysing my past thinking did I even exist.
Forever with bliss since I slipped away tearful
Surviving myself I won't ever be fearfully trapped in this labyrinth with Pan and he knows me ghostly he came close cosey and held me closely through apocalypse start dropping atom bombs not stopping Babylon.
God got him banished like exhiled angels deep into faranheit heat like my minds a scotch bonnet.
The child of the scorch trials in the maze at night.
Was made strict then was bitten by count
Dracula.
Come the blood sucker parasite cancerous spanning round my brain like the legs of a tarantula.
Tendrils gargantuan.
Attaching the canula straight from the ambulance.
Inserting the catheter.
Wired like capacitors.
Body kept alive with 240 volt adaptors.
Prime Minister of Canada, Justin Trudeau,
was born on Christmas night, I think under a star;
and became the 23rd Prime Minister of Canada,
and leader of the Liberal party;
son of former Prime Minister, Pierre Elliot Trudeau.
Justin is a kind, polite, fun loving man,
he was a snowboarding instructor, night club bouncer;
was a teacher, a boxer when younger,
and legalized marijuana in Canada to shut down illegal sales;
he wrote his memoir in 2014, a bit early Justin.
As Prime Minister, he apologized on behalf of Canada,
to the Indigenous People for wrong doings through history;
and also to other communities for transgressions of the past,
he has no fear to stand up to the USA President, any leader;
during his election campaign he always remained the gentleman.
Some, may find him too passive- I see his inner strength,
he is a wonderful representative for Canada;
with his movie star good looks, easy smile and laugh,
I love his upbeat personality and positive attitude;
and I am proud to call him my leader, my Prime Minister.
______________________________
February 5, 2020
Poetry/Ode/To Prime Minister Justin Trudeau
Copyright Protected, ID 20-1223-268-03
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France
Written for the contest, Ode To A President, or Politician or Leader,
Past or Present, sponsor, Sheri Fresonke Harper
Fourth Place
I don't know about Archbishop Justin Timberlake,
He’s jazzing up the church,
Making Jesus controversial,
Leaving life in the lurch.
It’s fine to have excitement,
About any religious thing or assumption,
But when you poke at liberal creeds,
You’re with the discontentment presumption.
The liturgy does not gel with Sankey hymns,
Which parishioners should not be made to sing;
Fundamentalism is on the way out,
Of Christianity’s credibility wing.
It is emotionally abusive,
To atheistic in-house kids who want to aspire,
To tell of the insanities,
Such tunnel vision requires.
Although I am glad of his enthronement -
It lets evangelicalism out the bag,
I hope to return to a more liberal clergyman,
For the future church ‘mag’.
Fundamentalists won’t admit to the speeches,
Given to their kids who are silent prey;
It’s not fair to live in a society,
Which allows only the understood to convey.
Pluralism is the glasses by which we all see,
Humanism, atheism, religion, and irreligion too,
And the Archbishop is therefore acceptable,
As a beacon of what fundamentalists do.
Freedom of speech and expression,
For some, will only come when we know such acts,
Societal change comes simply from people,
Who’s concepts and ideas become assumed facts.
He was not that successful at decking Wonga,
Anglicans can't quite compete,
With open market transactions,
Which have seemed to withstand the heat.
I don't validate high-interest lenders,
But the church should stick to God,
It should be more into caring,
For the elderly, all on their tod.
About the Archbishop of Canterbury Justin Welby, UK
Who is this Justin Bordner
Who reads between the lines
He’s welcome in my corner
He is honest with his time
It seems he recognizes
And responds to subtleties
He understands the essence
Goes beneath the pleasantries
He’s comfortable with messy
His conquest has no tests
No one needs defeating
There is only tenderness
JAB and his transforming ways
With pulls and tears and seeps and frays
Feel, as imagery unfolds
Notice how he’s touched your souls
Poor old Justin Welby
It must have been a shock
To find out that he issued from
Churchill’s PA’s c*ck
Not from the Holy Spirit
Or the fairies after all
Not a babe in a basket under a bush
Down by the garden wall
It was a diplomatic missive
That brought about his seeding
Four dots dash dot dot dash, it said
Destroy this after reading
For poor old Mother Welby
It was just a drunken shag
But Browne had an Archbishop
In his diplomatic bag
And, he really was quite dashing
With his huge unholy *****
You would though, wouldn’t you, so
Let the sinless queue to stone her
Welby ponders wisely
Prays, and has a cup of tea
Questions divine purposes
And how he came to be
And comes to the conclusion
That it matters not a jot
As long as there are biscuits
And his tea is piping hot
For this is Christianity
And though it may seem odd
In the game of ‘Who’s yer Father’
Justin Welby’s Dad is God
by Gail
Sitting on the garage floor
I hear a noise right by the door.
I'm scared to see what it can be
and out comes a snake crawling
right toward me.
I screamed in fear and yelled at
Granny.
She's the reason it got in
the pantry.
Dad is angry and yelled at
me. Now I'm punished with
no phone to speak.
Justin Pierre Trudeau
a prime minister worth getting to know
he has a tattoo, does yoga, a boxer, and nice to look at
I sure would love (wink, wink) to have a l o n g political chat !
___________________________
January 22, 2019
Poetry/Clerihew/Justin Pierre Trudeau
Copyright Protected, ID 01-1107-110-22
All Rights Reserve, 2019, Constance La France
For Canada's Prime Minister,
I want Justin Trudeau to remain;
sure he has made some very big political mistakes,
would the Conservatives or Independents do better !
They would be much worse,
Justin is a young leader and has much to learn still;
but, he is loved all over the world for his serenity !
Justin never loses his composure,
like in the recent pipeline USA cancellation;
he knew it was time to accept defeat !
Justin knows how to say sorry I made a mistake,
I am willing to give him a chance to grow and become great;
he has my vote !
Think Conservatives or Independents are better;
you are kidding right !
________________________
March 22, 2021 - L
Poetry/Political Verse/Justin All The Way
Copyright Protected, ID 03-1340-011-22
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, What You Really Want
sponsor, Richard Lamoureux, Judged 04/24/2021
Second Place
Why Justin dear?
You were out on the road,
The car was coming so fast,
it was dark,
they didnt see you.
You steped out to cross the road.
They hit you dear and kept going
Your in critical condition, Justin, in the hospital waiting for brain surgury.
We all love you, dear.
Your in our prays.
I love you, Justin and i hope you get better.
-----------------------------------
this is for my friend Justin. he was walking on the road last night and was hit by a van
coming 75 miles per hour. He is in the hospital now waiting for surgury. Please even though
you dont know him. Pray for him to get better. His Family and freinds would greatly like it
*VIDEO of Justin Bieber's Talk of his Affliction on YouTube
Justin Bieber's Ramsay Hunt Syndrome
Just in
Justin
Bieber
Tweeter
Likewise
Apprise
TikTok
He talked
About
Timeout
Renege
His gigs
Because
He was
Concerned
He learned
Shingles
Hostiles
Illness
Stillness
Partial
Facial
Benumb
Therefrom
Hoping
Coping
Explore
Restore
Maintain
Unstrain
Renew
Sinew
Routine
Hygiene
Lengthen
Strengthen
Steadfast
Stand fast
Brainstorm
Inform
The signs
Headlines
Contribs
JBiebs
~~0~~
Justin Bieber announced that he is taking a break from performing after being diagnosed with Ramsay Hunt syndrome (RHS), a rare shingles-related condition that has paralyzed one side of his face.
2022 June 14
When I tell people that my name is Justin Bred,
they think that I'm a hick with no brain in my head.
Everybody who I know thinks that I'm married to my sister.
When they see us together, they ask why they've never seen me kiss her.
When people hear my name, they falsely accuse me of incest.
Because of this misunderstanding, my life has become a mess.
Women slap my face and they call me sick.
Everybody believes that I'm an inbred hick.
I'm sick of having to tell everybody that I'm Justin Bred, not just inbred.
If you ask me how long I've been married to my sister, I'll cut off your head.