Best Spat Poems
He bought everyone
A choux pastry
Filled with cream
And half covered with chocolate,
To eclair the air.
Will enough ever be that?Or will we continue to let those who have, dominate, dictate, what we will never have? No a wonder, when stated, lie the created, believed truth. For the majority? the official coup. Must i wonder, Search the frail earth. Seeking harmony, least the never stated truth. My not existing, just one of other, limited raving mind. Enough, gone under, stealing the open dishonesty, taking from another, strength spat in the eye.
Is your body blooming from the calories your consuming and you threw away that yoga mat? Learn a lesson from a cat. If too many hours on your derriere you've sat, playing on face book, conversing on chat, observe a cat. Are you curled up in bed and taking a nap? Filled with excuses not to do that needed lap? Consult a cat. If at your image you've frequently spat and are wearing black now to cover that fat. Watch a cat. Our bodies are amazing. We are uniquely blessed, with seven hundred muscles just begging to be stretched. If we fail to use them properly, our muscles will begin to atrophy. Please get up and find your groove wherever you are at, and start to move, just like a cat.
I’d hang my head in shame
The day I stop querying the man in my mirror
Whose name I’d associate with blame
For daring to conceal the fear and tear
My conscience weeps as the man fails to keep
Promises made to me from the day the avatar
Chose to defend every noble cause I hold dear deep
Within every pore my conscience drives far
Away from consideration beyond contestation
To preserve my dignity and sanity
As I query motives driving the man’s orchestration
Of assets and precepts whose vanity
I feel betray skills God bestowed on me
To add value to the truth to serve humankind
To the best of my ability, to work like a bee
In a honeycomb when shame covers my face if I should find
Joy in oppressing the weak
Misleading the poor in my tour of duty
Where I’m better off dead up the creek
Than alive and dead inside enjoying the booty
Dishonesty, disrespect and total disregard
Landing within my grasp when by stealth of hand
I project the man in my mirror to the vanguard
Despite his puny performance and corny romance that stand
Me in bad stead
On the scale of probity
At work and in my homestead
Where the money in my kitty
Itches to switch off every machine that keeps me in suspended animation
Between a lie and a dye that colour my hair black to spite the grey
Hair from which I draw acclamation
To bless my Creator to whom day and night I pray
Begging for forgiveness for the man’s foibles
As in anger I break the mirror, vowing to reform the man
If he should remain a friend of mine not in fables
But in real time provided the man chooses to accord any woman
The respect she deserves not because of her beauty
But because in my God’s grand scheme women
Matter more as equal partners who no naughty
Men should treat less respectfully than they treat men.
There was a man God called to serve
but he refused to go God's way
going in the opposite direction
this was a price he would soon pay
This man was Jonah a runaway
like so many fleeing the divine presence
going on a ship bound for Tarshish
but God knew who jumped the fence
He saw Jonah had jumped ship
so God brought along a big fish
which swallowed him up into his belly
there for 3 days and nights one big dish
So Jonah prayed earnestly to God
the Lord spoke to the fish so it was sick
it spat him out so Jonah obeyed
preaching righteousness to all to stick
This Jonah is really so like me
the sinfulness rebellion a sick heart
only God could turn him around
but he did give him a new start
When the bluster and champion of words bleeds
from the flue,
quite unintentionally, with seeds…
The whirlwind of contrast and opposing creeds
turns one blue,
when the bluster and champion of words bleeds.
Spur of the moment spat of dandelion weeds
without a clue,
quite unintentionally with seeds.
A test dummy with mouth and lip speeds
seems so frou-frou,*
when the bluster and champion of words bleeds.
Delightful time but for tilt of raw deeds -
a daft wind blew,
quite unintentionally with seeds.
When unmitigated passion and escalation leads,
bad blood breaks through…
when the bluster and champion of words bleeds
quite unintentionally with seeds.
2/26/2022
AN ORIGINAL VILLANELLE
L Milton Hankins
*Frou-Frou — silly
I’m mad she said as she slammed the door,
I’ve never seen her act this way before.
She’ll be back I keep telling myself as I stand there staring at the door.
What if this is really it, and she can’t take no more?
I have to stop her as my mind races ahead,
Why do I hurt her, I really didn’t mean the things I said.
Baby I said I am wrong, I knew all along you were right.
Please don’t leave I am sorry I started this fight.
She turned and looked at me, and said don’t you know I love you?
I said yes, yes I do, I don’t know why I say those things to you.
She said you’re my life you’re the reason I live.
I’ve given you my heart, what more can I give?
As we stand there both in tears,
Recalling all the happiness we’ve shared throughout the years.
Why do we spend so much time hurting each other?
I’m your wife, dang it not your mother.
Her words spoke the truth while cutting so deep.
I finally see and I’m sorry I’ve been such a creep.
As we walk back to the house emotionally drained.
Holding each other’s hand thanking God our love still remains.
depression breaks the ground beneath our feet without warning and swallows us wholly without remorse. when we come back, what have we lost? if we come back, what did we bring back? darkness takes and stains and does not leave anything unchanged.