Best Lesley Poems
Each day Annie Lesley opened a can
Her eighty-six-year-old hands trembling
As she sat with her cat and ate pet food
What is wrong with this elder’s rendering?
Pride swallowed to remain independent
Large, sunken eyes peered from her weathered face
Her late spouse a decorated hero
Annie’s lifestyle a national disgrace
More enlightened cultures all over the world
Have revered their seniors throughout history
Asians and Native Americans
Are just two who honor their ancestry
Polynesians, other Pacific tribes
Respect the wisdom that comes with age
Seniors are welcome in family homes
But here in the states they’re placed in a cage
Bone-thin Annie Lesley chose to be free
Amazing neighbors with her endurance
When social services tried to intervene
She fought with remarkable resilience
Old photos on walls told many great tales
But only purring Tibby was listening
Each morning she rose to care for her cat
Until the day that Tibby went missing
In tears she claimed he must have been poisoned
Though in cat years he was older than she
Each day she sat by the window, staring
Awaiting the homecoming of Tibby
She’d been abandoned by society
Lost in the world’s most “progressive” nation
For sacrificing her spouse in World War II
Annie received little compensation
This widowed war bride never had children
Her mate had met his fate in Normandy
Posthumous awards she dusted each day
Annie’s life was defined by loyalty
To a man and a cat who never came home
And the vigil she kept all alone
Ended quietly one warm summer night
When an angel came to take Annie home
With a can of cat food in hand when found
Annie had nothing else to eat in her house
This is the way a veteran’s wife died
And tear stains had blemished her faded blouse
Although seniors’ wisdom is heeded
In societies that grow from history
Too many like Annie lead lonely lives
Wisdom untapped, they die in poverty
A WISH -- In Memory Of
"I Wish"
I wish I could blow air into your little lungs,
The day my daughter brought your stillborn body into this world.
Hold your little body warm,
And tell my little girl you have her cute little nose....
Count your little fingers, and kiss your little toes....
I wish,
I could look into your daring eyes,
Facing a little boy, who's ready for this world
I wish,
I could tell my daughter you have her beautiful brown eyes...
Sadly, it’s not like that.
How can I tell my daughter everything will be all right?
When a piece of my heart was stolen with her's,
When giving birth to her son, my grandson
March 25, 2013---- How it Hurts!
~~~
O’ how I wish, you entered this world crying
Instead, we're the ones left in tears of sorrow
~~~
How I wish you could be,
And not this feeling you left inside
How I wish, God could explain why o' why o' why?
Mostly, I WISH grandma could fix this and make
your mommy feel, the joy she was robbed of.
In memory of my grandson: ---Bael Lesley G.
Born March 25, 2013 --- RIP March 25, 2013
----------
by;PD :-(
"I Wish"
I wish I could blow air into your little lungs,
The day my daughter brought your stillborn body into this world.
Hold your little body warm,
And tell my little girl you have her cute little nose...
Count your little fingers, and kiss your little toes...
I wish,
I could look into your daring eyes,
Facing a little boy, who's ready for this world
I wish,
I could tell my daughter you have her beautiful brown eyes...
Sadly, it’s not like that.
How can I tell my daughter everything will be all right?
When a piece of my heart was stolen with her's,
When giving birth to her son, my grandson
March 25, 2013---- How it Hurts!
~~~
O’ how I wish, you entered this world crying
Instead, we're the ones left in tears of sorrow
~~~
How I wish you could be,
And not this feeling you left inside
How I wish, God could explain why o' why?
I wish I could find the reasons now, and not wait until I die.
Mostly, I WISH Mommy could fix this.
Bael Lesley G.
Born March 25, 2013
RIP March 25, 2013
----------
by;PD :-(
Who promised you life would be easy?
Who whispered this excuse?
How can pain be an addition to the life experience?
Answers provided are inadequate to the task.
Who will sit with you and hold you in the unknown?
In the silence of the morning,
I listen for the sound of your heartbeat.
I reach for you and trace the line of your face.
I smell the fragrance of your skin.
I envy the sun as it kisses the small of your back.
I rest in the music of your breath, your slow awakening!
How long have you felt this way?
Why have you not come to me?
I am here, I am within you and without.
Loneliness and fear need not compel.
For you are lifted on whispers of thought!
I wish to be justified
"You are justified from the foundations of the Earth,
to the moment of the quiet walk.
Listen to the wind carry your name.
Feel the music fill your innermost being.
As the song builds to the innermost surprise!"
What is Heaven?
Is it the peace that resides between heart beats?
Is the smallness of it large enough to contain God's Essence?
When does it begin?
Why is it so hard to start?
The small white dog trembles,
as the river runs wild!
Flys dance above the water.
"Go" I say releasing you into the water.
Feeling the depth of love,
as it covers the surface of you.
A compilation poem written by Norm Millross, Lesley-Anne Evans and Richard Lamoureux.
This was six separate pieces organized into one piece. We each alternated line by line.
Norm and Lesley-Anne are fellow poets here In Kelowna British Columbia.
I hear R. Kelly singing, “Your Body’s Calling me”
So I pick up my pen and write some poetry
I hear Usher singing, “You Got It Bad”;
And I write about you every time I pick up a pad
I hear Ryan Lesley singing, “I Choose You”;
And I reminisce about us, and what we’ve gone through
I hear Pleasure P. singing, “I Did You Wrong”
Let us make love to these other songs
I hear Bobby Valentino singing, “Slow Down”
I just want one night with you on the town!
I hear jagged Edge singing, “Gotta Be”
I’m willing to bet this love could be a felony
I hear Robin Thicke singing, “Sex Therapy”
So com lay in this warm bed with me!
I hear Sade singing, “Ordinary Love”;
And I think of your body that was sculpted above
I hear Mary J singing, “No More Drama”
Damn, I wanna make you my baby momma!
I hear Keith Sweat singing, “I’ll give All My Love To You”;
And think of your smell that has me under your spell; your sweet honeydew!
I hear J. Holiday singing, “Bed”
So off with that lingerie let me give you amazing head!
I hear R. Kelly, again, this time singing, “Slow Wind”
As I end this Rhyme, I meditate on your love that lingers on my mind!
*Visit and read other poems at www.poetrypub.ning.com
Naughty little brother hitting people just for fun,
Soppy little sister snuggles up to harassed mum,
While other sister Lesley thinks she’s in a royal court,
And “Ten Ton Tim” throws the tennis balls he’s bought,
One hits little Lesley on the head with quite a force,
She storms off to her room, in a nark again of course,
She slams the door behind her once she’s made her way upstairs,
And then there’s the twins, I know that trouble comes in pairs,
Michael’s riding Richard with his undies on his head,
While Craig from down the road is wearing swimming trunks instead,
“Ten Ton Tim” then offers the other boys a fight,
One which probably won’t finish until very late at night
“You and Craig onto me!”; a tempting offer to the boys,
Who start to rush towards him brandishing their army-toys,
Lesley reappears from the dark behind the door,
Intending not carry on moaning any more,
Dad is quite sensible at stays at work ‘til dark,
I think it’s more crowded here than in Noah’s Ark.
Mother calls for quite but the noise just carries on,
‘Til Craig suggests they go to his and then the rabble’s gone!
(Written at the age of 9 or 10)
Friday rolls around
I am too excited
My pennies are saved
My outfit’s sorted
Bath and make up, done
Ready for a big night out
One problem
It’s the afternoon
Tick tock,
Tick tock
Hurry the fek up Mr. Clock
You really, truly hate me
'Cause of you I’m late for work
Early for fun
You bore me to hell with your incessant tick tocking
If you had a real face I would…
I’ll have a drink
Chill
Kill some time
Just the one
Lightweight
I sip Whisky
And twiddle my thumbs
Bored on the highest level
Eureka!
I’ll check the Net
Laptop open
Booting up
Logging on
123 ABC
Bingo, I’m in
Surprise
I have three emails
Junk!
Unless I needed to grow my ***** ten more inches
Date a married man
Or join Mob Wars and get one million fake dollars for online poker
Now there’s a bit of competition for you
NOT
Facebook is where it’s at on a Friday afternoon
Isn’t it?
Let me see if there are any interesting status updates
Nope
Unless I care that Trudy is having a nice cup of tea after getting all her ironing done
Wow, Susan planted apple trees on her farm, and took a snapshot (WTF?)
David is with Mark, Kate and Lesley somewhere near Southend
I’m glad I’m thousands of miles away from the weirdoes
Oh, wait a second
I have an invite!
And it’s something to do with food
My profile says I’m a chef
I post tons of pictures of food
Finally something worth opening
Wrong!
Amy has invited me to join Chef World
Now I can work in a virtual kitchen cooking virtual food after spending all day in a real kitchen cooking real food
Idiotic waste of time
I click the link and enter a bright red kitchen
Timers scattered
Pots and pan readied
Bacon eggs, beans and fries to cook
All need coordinating
Timing is crucial
And she’s off
Fries on
123456
Bacon, wait for it
Wait for it
On
123
Toast down
12345
Beans on
123
Toast pops
Burnt
Crap!
Fries burnt
Eggs burnt
Crap
I try again
And again
After 4 hours I’m a virtual pro
The phone rings
‘Kim, I’ll be there in ten, be ready.'
'I'll try.'
You've had all day, what you doing?’
'Murdering time.'
A Birthday Party
Today's my birthday and
There's a party and a band.
It's such a jolly time
Except I don't feel I'm
Ready for fun and games
And learning people's names.
I'm being pressed to eat
Things savoury and sweet.
There's trifle down my frock,
This evening's such a shock.
I'm just not in the mood
To contemplate this food.
I s'pose that they mean well
And I must never tell
How I really feel,
Be grateful for the meal.
Oh look, a glass of wine!
Now that will do just fine.
Another one or three,
That always works for me,
It'll blur the jolly scene
And make me feel quite mean.
The music's much too loud,
I don't know half this crowd,
That man and microphone
Should have stayed at home.
But I'll put on a show
And then they'll let me go.
A tear, a sob and more,
Remember Lesley Gore:
It's my Party
and I'll cry if I want to,
Cry if I want to,
Cry if I want to,
...................
(Lesley Ann Down was an actress in
the Golden Age of live TV drama.)
We live in an age of midgets.
There are no seers now, only lookers,
no values left, apart from digits.
Cash is the hook, and we’re all hookers,
no Carmen Joneses, only Bridgets.
Did you have to learn the equation
(“have to”? – what an odd suggestion!)
which represents acceleration?
It’s printed now, beside the question.
No gravity, just gravitation.
Subtitle writers, now, can’t spell,
and language teachers know no grammar.
When banks are hiring tellers, well,
in Alabaster, Alabama,
they sing aloud, “You Never Can Tell”.
Let’s get somewhat more sarcastic.
Our carpenters just never get wood.
Today our craftsmen just squirt mastic,
then, as any moron could,
they clip on bits of precut plastic.
We’ve got police (I like this best!)
who, far from being Texas Rangers,
have never passed exams or tests,
and can’t, by law, face any dangers,
or run rash risks, like make arrests.
No Richard Rodgers, Buddy Holly,
no more Stoller (as in Lieber),
but ‘tis the season to be jolly –
after all, there’s Justin Bieber!
Hence, loathéd melancholy!
High school days
I listened to Lesley Gore sing
Day dreaming
Sometimes feeling like a fool
You Dad’s car
I gave you my high school ring
Friday nights
Trying so hard to act cool
Days flew by
Spent so much time together
Two young kids
In a small world of their own
Your Dad’s car
Sunshine or stormy weather
Drive in show
Soda and an ice cream cone.
Years go by
Felt the sunshine and the rain
Stood together
Butting heads against the wall
Life went on
Took the happiness with the pain
Staying strong
When the storms passed we stood tall
Stories told
By the lines carved in our faces
Photographs
All those memories make me blue
Thinking back
To other times and other places
After all these years
I’m still in love with you.
Suffer little children to come unto
me,
Then stand and watch as pedophiles
get caught tried and set free,
But you know the way it today
there's just no room in jail,
So the dregs of our society end up
released on bail,
See all you do good idiots who plead
their case in court,
For the sexually abused defiled won't
you please spare a thought,
Don't you see that to forgive these
men we simply can't afford,
pedophilias terminal a disease that
can't be cured,
Like vultures nonces hover they wait
patiently until,
They see a little boy or girl then go in
for the kill,
Remember little Lesley ann,Keith
Bennett,Jeanette Tate?
Just how much for a childs lost life
are you willing to compensate ?
And what about the families and the
victims left behind?
D‘you think while these men walk
free they'll find their peace of mind ?
So suffer little children cause I know
the things you see,
I know just how you suffer cause you
suffer just like me.
Suffer little children to
come unto
me,
Then stand and watch
as pedophiles
get caught tried and set
free,
But you know the way it
today
there's just no room in
jail,
So the dregs of our
society end up
released on bail,
See all you do good
idiots who plead
their case in court,
For the sexually abused
defiled won't
you please spare a
thought,
Don't you see that to
forgive these
men we simply can't
afford,
pedophilias terminal a
disease that
can't be cured,
Like vultures nonces
hover they wait
patiently until,
They see a little boy or
girl then go in
for the kill,
Remember little Lesley
ann,Keith
Bennett,Jeanette Tate?
Just how much for a
childs lost life
are you willing to
compensate ?
And what about the
families and the
victims left behind?
D‘you think while these
men walk
free they'll find their
peace of mind ?
So suffer little children
cause I know
the things you see,
I know just how you
suffer cause you
suffer just like me.
in a dream a record store
groovy man its lesley gore
voice mid soprano
and a piano
sleepy sandmans muzak score.
I’m facing a challenge and I’m taking bets
That I can remember the names of my pets
There’s Tommy and Jonnie and Sally and Barry
The one over there I believe might be Harry
Tiddles and Wriggles and Bruno and Gerry
Never stray far from their bestest mate Terry
But Sue, Lou and Nancy, Alberto And Drew
Appear to be loners, a bit like Baloo
That crowd to one side hang around in a gang
But seem to be led by Mei Ling and Chang
Now, can I recall who the rest of them are
I’ll try but they all look the same from afar
Lee, James, Amanda, Frank, Annie and Les
Annabelle, Gilbert, Wilbert and Dez
Sonya, Sam, Lesley-Anne, Mary-Lou, Bess
Stephanie, Bethany, Cuthbert and Jess
Edward and Jedward, Samson and Ben
Zebedee, Gerry-Lee, Timothy, Jen
Josh, Tod and Spartacus, Abbie and Sid
Oliver, Gulliver, Billy the Kid
There’s Tyson and Dyson, and Eric and Jim
And Betty and Hetty, Jemima and Kim
I got them from someone who lives down the road
And carried them all to my humble abode
I needed no crate cos the breeder had bowls
He told me that’s how one should carry tadpoles
To Lesley do I owe a big debt
No more over verse will I ever sweat
Reading her nuanced advice between the lines
My motivation to versify sharply declines
It has become clear to me that my rotten rhyme
Is so very close to being a humanitarian crime.
So,Ms Duncan,to you must I convey my thanks
That no longer will I invest in poetry banks.
Now must I banish my obsession with a final farewell
And consign all future thoughts of poetry to the fires of hell.
Without me,may all you genuine poets flourish
And your love of poetry always and ever nourish.
With a truly sad heart I do lay down my pen
And I will not demean Parnassus ever again
And yet who can ever be fully sure and rightly know
When the Pierian spring through one will once again flow?