Best Perfected Poems
Here we have in this 119th Psalm
the psalmist speaks of avoiding sin
so that reality knows obedience fully
when the living word is meditated in
Be careful to avoid every sin filled trap
having reverence for God's holy word
achieves for believers a deep respect
any other view is totally absurd
If our works are not holy
our obedience can never be likewise
so meditate biblically and continually
to root out all sinful lies
So follow Mr Spurgeon's wisdom
avoid sin so to pefectly obey
as verse 101 would teach
and follow your God all the way
I hold back my feet from every evil way, in order to keep your word. Psalm 119
v. 101
The Great “I AM” that could not stand
Yet held the fate of man in hand.
Jehovah Jireh laid to rest
Upon the milk of Mary’s breast.
The Prince of Peace of priests despised
Would heal the lame and open eyes.
Infant, holy radiant infant
When God became a babe.
Through Christ, a way to God had come
And hope’s foundation laid.
Who scarce can ascertain the depth
And wonder of His birth.
Humility perfected,
When Jehovah came to earth.
Commit to me the art of you and I will be alone
See to me you are the light and I will be blind
Rejoice in me your very soul for I cannot atone
That in the very faith you hold, I knew not any kind
A flower bent with broken root, a pretty sight still
As naked night is veiled sight, this I am to you
The happy fear laughed away is a nervous shrill
Echoed in the heart of you, abounds within me too
So drain my thought and make me straight, and you will be thrown
Into a gale of rememberings, there will we be found
Again another knowing known, a screening show shown
Predictable enlightenment in repetition bound
Please make this truth the truest, and lies the first I heard
Please take me to a garden wild, and lose me in the fray
Please find me scarred wanting more, whisper me that word
Love and love and love again, my dark and light of day
and like theriouthly what wath their problem
ith jutht thex
the story continues on all the way to newfoundland
who sort of did it justice, how jesus even taught them to procreate is beyond me
I's the bye that builds the boat, I's the bye that sails her
I's the bye that catches the fish, and throws em into the sea
Jesus foresaw that this was going to be a problem
so he had to act fast which brings us to the tragedy of russia
russia being the place religion was created to stop this epidemic
and many psalms were written, their favorite at the time
Oh come all ye faithful, glory of the triumphant
which did them no good, they later burned the books
Still definately a problem he thought he would give the irish a turn
without telling a fib, he was at least lucky there
caught in the act actually, and wouldn't you believe this happened on his birthday
in they walk with a cake to discover the joke he would never live down
Happy Birthday to you
happy birthday to you
Oh dear jesuz!!!
The legacy continues to greece
where jesus was definately going to encounter hardship in his endeavors of spreading the
love....
He uh, he looka like a mang, and he did not want
to play with my fun bag
pips
pine
poses
perfect
perfectly
perfected
perfecting
perfectionism
perfectionistly so
he played his harp
only heard in the dark
shadows shattered rest
broken by silences test
waves wane on sound
vibrations are bound
touching chaotic'ing realms
brushing neurotic'ing whelms
blushing arts streaming scars
prancing like gleaming shards
glancing with seeming stars
romancing loves branded
regaurds
only heard
in
the
dark
he played his harp
?
purifying sense is the finest way to be perfected with wisdom
One in the morning
Pitch black outside
He looks around
The neighbors are sound asleep
The homeowners are out of town
He pry's open the door
With a crowbar in hand
Pieces of the door frame broken all over the floor
He looks for expensive electronics
Jewlery and more
This isn't the first time
Certainly won't be the last
He could have changed his ways
But he's perfected his craft
Thousands of dollars in items taken
Days pass and the items are sold
To support his heroin addiction
Seventeen and addicted to the lifestyle
While living in denial
All the while
He's destroyed another mans life
Destroyed his children and scared his wife
“To love, or not to love?” that is the point,
the focus which men lose beyond disjoint.
To be a god among men, and unloved,
is woe: even wild beasts are not unmoved
by these fragmented, lone, unearthly souls,
for whom the scroll of history unrolls.
Man, being so much better than feral beasts,
should eschew (and end!) the vile, evil feasts
of his ire: then love these wide-browed seers, men
and women like the wielder of this pen.
A shiny forest of an armpit
By Ninety-Five percent a cesspit;
A quick verifying touch of this
By Ridiculed Christopher Elvis
Also brandishing a moist pelvis,
For long months now excused by Doris
His Understanding, Hopeful Girlfriend
But clearly seeking its abrupt end.
Anew, Elvis investigative finger
Goes for The Sticky Feeling that would linger,
His Poor Hygiene Principal Bell Ringer
And Change-for-the-Better Soft Singer;
To his Dad something he should be killed for,
As he keeps wondering what he’s waiting for,
Already by him pronounced A Serious Matter
And on Offending Elvis’ Head a metallic clatter …
His show of disgust had to be perfected
Because Elvis has a wisdom rejected
“All the stops pulling out to pick poor hygiene
From his interactions with Useless Eugene!”
#EPANALEPSIS POETRY
look into the eyes, look
true love eyes never lie about true love
infatuation, loves learning curve, infatuation
I do, the vow, forty-eight years and still I do
together, we will always be together
alone again, never again alone
together now, and forever together
perfected love our life, our life is love perfected
IN HIM PERFECTED- I am
I am in Him perfected
I wonder if I fly in heaven
I hear the sound of the angels wings
I see the lion sleeping next the sleeping lamb
I want longevity of life, to see Jesus descend from the heavens
I am in Him perfected
I pretend to be invisible
I feel triumphant
I touch the hearts of the clouds
I worry all men will die
I cry about mistreatment of womankind
I am in Him perfected
I understand we live forever in heaven or hell
I say I believe in Him who created all things
I dream only in black and white
I try to love everyone
I hope and pray for continual soften heart
I am in Him perfected
2/15/23
Written words© by James Edward Lee Sr.2023©
made divine
& healed
rescued
&transformed
our life
fully satisfied
in the physical
psychological
& spiritual
appreciated&
appropriated
a deliverance
from bondage
healing hurts
& memories
life permeating
our being
in visions of another Eden
heaven
a deeper blue
erth sweeter green
as his poiema
flood the scene
a coming kingdom
scene
light
with
no darkness
a purpose
a direction
love made manifest
timeless
lasting
satisfaction
our design revealed
in our organic
unity
an immediate impression
death defeated
a vision giving
meaning to life
potentialities awakened
aesthetics imagined
given form
as dilemmas dissolve
emotions evolve
in
poiema
perfected
Have Been Perfected
As long as on earth I do remain alive
With God and Son in me shall survive
Each moment and complete my destiny
It is God always bringing out best in me.
No telling where best is liable to appear
Could be far off or place nice and near
On occasion some people may bother
Each time I said I was a perfect father.
Not only that, great poet have turned into
Writing from early morn until day is through
On any subject you prefer and also pick
And another poem I will come up with quick.
What else should there really be left to say?
When writing poems use a round about way
In my life by God effort has been directed
And with His help each poem was perfected.
James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran
All of my poems have been highly influenced
by Robert Frost, Ogden Nash and Will Rogers.
Poem Was Perfected
After effort, all things are corrected,
And only the best you truly selected;
Devoted to duty;
Such a beauty;
Each poem you wrote was perfected.
Jim Horn
Remember doing this receiving a Bachelor's then a Master's.
Each Diploma on Table Lays
These have been all bygone days,
When I had received much praise;
In an aura
Of euphoria;
Now each diploma on a table lays.
Jim Horn
Rounded corners and soft edges
Come to us
Like white geese waddling
Small babies swaddling
Without knowing
them as gifts
We are
Much deeper
Than our borders.
Past skin and heart
And long into the soul.
We are all and ever only
Wishes from before
And we are all and ever only
Dreams of something more.