Best Trent Poems


Premium Member Christmas Eve

Santa’s sleighing high,
Among the starlit sky,
Mounds and mounds of toys,
For all the girls and boys.
Rudolph leads the trip,
Knows every curve and dip,
Rudolph knows his way so well,
Santa can relax, how swell!
Ho, ho ho he shouts,
Have never any doubts,
For every child, the elves
Have packed, lovely lovely toys,
For all the girls and boys.
No child will wake up sad,
For none have been so bad,
Promised they've been good,
Mom and dad agreed,
So all the children will be glad.
Rudolph dives down fast,
This night has magic sprinkles,
Forever this will last.
Down every chimney Santa goes
One of his tricky feats,
Looks forward to his treats,
And brandy in case he’s cold,
Homemade biscuits and tea,
His face shines up with glee,
He’s thankful to each family,
Ho ho he shouts out happily.
He’s tired but content,
Nearly woke up Benny Trent.
All the toys have been delivered,
Must get home before the blizzard.
Rudolph, North Pole please,
I’m cold, i have a wheeze,
Mrs Claus is baking,
Santa’s toddy in the making,
She made a stew so yummy,
Santa rubs his tubby tummy.
Thank you, Santa Clause,
You deserve only applause.
For eons around this globe
You’ve been, 
Yet never ever seen,	
Delivering so many toys,
To all the girls and boys.


elivering so many toys,Tr all the girls and boys.

I'M Home

Don’t cry over my vessel
For it no longer holds me
It was time for it to return to the Dust of the Earth

You’re not suppose to Grieve for me
You should be Rejoicing
I know it’s hard not to
I’ve been down that Road one to many times
I want you to Rejoice for me
Rejoice like you’ve never Rejoiced before

My soul has been set Free
I now have my Crown of Jewels
I’m sitting & worshipping at our Savior’s feet
I’m Home

Here in this Glorious place
I’m no longer old or brittle
I no longer have pain or sickness
I can breathe without difficulty
I can run and I can jump
I can sing and I can dance
I get to makeup lost time with Don Don and Bubby

As I walked through those Pearly Gates
I was meet by many
They welcomed me with open arms
Our sons, our parents my brothers and my sisters

It’s so Beautiful here
I long for the day you walk through those Gates
The day we get to walk down this Golden Road together
Hand in Hand, Side by Side once again

Please don’t dwell on things in which you can not change
Heaven is where I’m needed now
I’ll always be with you in some form
I’ll be in your Heart
I’ll be in a stray thought
In the whisper of the wind
Each time you look at our given daughter Amy
In our grandchildren Alyssa & Trent
Our nieces & our nephews
In the faces of my brothers & sisters I left behind

When the day comes for you to walk the same path
I’ll be the first one to Welcome you with open arms
You’ll also be greeted by our family & friends
Until then, I’ll be one of your Guiding hands
Always watching over you


----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Written for my Aunt Brenda, in Loving Memory of my late Uncle Rev. Don Thomas

Premium Member Intermission: Ad Infinitum Lux Vitae

"Intermission: Ad Infinitum Lux Vitae"




Intermission
I wait
You call
I have loved


I wait 
Lux Vitae
I have loved
Through the Storm


Lux Vitae
I have loved, to love You more
Through the Storm
You call, Open Door


I have loved, to love You more
Ad Infinitum
You call, Open Door
I walk with You through the Storm


Ad Infinitum
My Love is always Yours
You walk with me through the Storm
The Waiting Room calls



Intermission


(Lovejoy-Burton/April 2018)
for "my" Georgia, 
who is entirely her own person 









The inspiration for my poem - 
This "Pantoum" is about Birth, Life, Death. There are all sorts of "Waiting Rooms", in this Life and the next. Of course, this is my belief. The reader may interpret Birth, Life and Death distinctly separate from my belief.


Georgia, the 'True' inspiration for your name, below. x


"I decided to start anew, to strip away what I had been taught.”
- Georgia O'Keeffe

"I had to create an equivalent for what I felt about what I was looking at - not copy it. ”
- Georgia O'Keeffe

"I said to myself, I have things in my head that are not like what anyone has taught me - shapes and ideas so near to me - so natural to my way of being and thinking that it hasn't occurred to me to put them down. ”
- Georgia O'Keeffe"

"Marks on paper are free - free speech - press - pictures all go together I suppose. ”
- Georgia O'Keeffe

"To create one's world in any of the arts takes courage. ”
- Georgia O'Keeffe

"Anyone who doesn't feel the crosses simply doesn't get that country.”
- Georgia O'Keeffe






Artwork, Georgia Totto O'Keeffe (November 15, 1887 – March 6, 1986)
“Ram’s Head with Hollyhock”, 1935
https://www.georgiaokeeffe.net/ram-head-with-hollyhock.jsp


Trent Reznor/Atticus Ross
"Technically Missing"
https://youtu.be/EBaa0k1y57w


"Politics is a dirty business. If you are going to 'write' policy, fabrication is not advisable, make sure you have ALL the true facts in front of you and that TRUTH is delivered by whatever means necessary". Quote, Leanne Lovejoy-Burton to daughter, Georgia - April 2018.


Lost At Sea

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>My brothers Son was lost at sea,
                               His body was never found.
                               The coast guard searched up and down the coast,
                                The crew they think had drowned.
   
                               Trent was just turned twenty-three, 
                               Full of life and had high expectations.
                               He wanted to  earn his own way,
                               Not have to rely on his relations. 
          
                               He got a job on a fishing boat,
                               On the ocean they did go.
                               Dragging was  the means use to catch the fish,
                                It some times went very slow.
                               
 
                               When they failed to return that night,
                               The coast guard  were asked to look.
                               They looked up and down the coast,
                               But not one thing came in sight.

                               The boat  was never found that day,
                               It was presumed, that it had sunk.
                               It seemed awful strange though ,
                               There was no storm or no junk.
                               

                               As the search went on one was found,
                               Drifting just of shore.
                               The others were never found, 
                               Only to be seen no more.

                               The families gather togather ,
                               To pray for thier lost souls.
                               For the fishermen who lost thier lives,
                               Whos hearts were pure as gold.
© Alan Fitz  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member The Trials of Meretrix Canto V

Here, this day, on this inglorious
Field
Thy vain struggles will count no
Valour.
All hope now abandoned,
Imminent defeat unconcealed;
Erstwhile countenance display 
Such waxen, languid pallor.
Surround by your dwindling 
Forces
Ye will but sadly find...
That the stout keep of your 
Valiant fortress is all but breached,
Once strong foundations failing -
Wherest badly undermined!

For a rigorous examination beckons
ye;
Stood before impassioned jurors 
Chosen from the feared and all
Powerful families of the ignoble
Medici.
Black curtains drawn back from 
Deep reveals
That look out over the enlightened
Years...
Where conceals...
Hidden between leafs of peremptory
Decree:-
A blight spread upon these lands,
Inflicted from Romes insidious 
Plans -
That cause stain upon the
Renaissance of a golden century!

When clapping thunder breaks and
Brazen lightening clashes
Still I would know ye again: 
A pounding, frenzied reflex devoid
Of all Godly purpose -
Detached from any amount of 
Blame!
For I have sought ye out, O lowly 
Meretrix;
Heaping upon you with bondage
Enforced through servitude and
Shame;
And I, O lowly Meretrix,
I...hereby command thy name.

A fastidious Advocate of intellectual
Character
Shallst I elect,
He who be a practitioner of 
Theological proposal unrefrained,
To represent you -
Raised from the rank files of the
Dead and slain!
A public gallery, wherest seated,
Ghostly phantasms 
That I purposefully select;
And for a judge - A deathly one:
Ill measured, worshipfully detached,
Beneath it all,
And hopelessly arcane.

This "Innocent" fool, dressed in
Guise of highest ecclesiastical 
Enforcer,
Perpetuated a medieval Inquisition,
Both protracted and prolonged,
That openly boasted and rejoiced
In its zealous slaughter!
Thereby spawned a terrible edict -
"Ad Extirpanda":-
Cannon law that advocates the
Use of "Legitimate torture"!

Know thee also, Meretrix, the Pius
Pontiff,
Heaven sent,
Who in his greater wisdom 
Convened over
The council of Trent:
Four hundred years spanning 
Across a Reformations fears;
Reaffirmed when Pope John,
In reflective reiteration,
Was heard to chillingly hiss:
"What was...Still is"!

TO BE CONTINUED...

Fabrication

There was a lady from Trent
Who could not pay her rent.
She stitched and sewed
And lo and behold
She now resides in a tent.


Premium Member Gent Morse and His Horse

With bent torso, fenced horse Corso,
Tows corpulent gent Morse into a Kent forest.

This portly source torments tense Corso to such a contentious extent
That he sends them off course with vehement force to show his discontent.

“Whoa”, vents the incensed Morse 
With voice tense and hoarse from onerous discourse.  

“Endorse a gentle course,
And dissent from one so dense and coarse.”

With sore torso resentment, Corso forewent his horse-sense and sent
Enormous Morse into a torrential watercourse from Trent.

“You senseless, offensive, violent horse,” 
Chorused the tortured, drenched Morse.  

Yet, Morse lamented and swore to descent his portly content, 
As soon as Corso implements his chores back in Kent.

And to mend his sores
From his hell-bent horse, 

Reinvented Morse reinforced his orders
By tensing the cords toward extensive fence borders. 

With a consenting snort for repented gent Morse,
The contented horse, relented pretenses and wended a short decent course.

For Sheri's couplet contest

Premium Member The Vagabond

The Vagabond
By
Tom Wright

There was a traveler named Trent,
From a city in Michigan called Flint.
He traveled so much,
He was never in touch,
Seems each time he arrived he went.
© Tom Wright  Create an image from this poem.

About Twenty Two Score Years Ago

About Twenty Two Score Years Ago...

One “FAKE” rumor purports April Fools’ Day
accepted with hostile abandonment
according to Giggle ling search result
conducted by this gent
adopted when France switched

rather than fight abolishment
transitioning from Julian calendar
to Gregorian calendar,
(yet maintaining same gender reassignment)
called for by the Council of Trent

Lot affecting chronological abridgement
forthrightly, immediately, and
magically decreeing making
with flourish of inkhorn - prestidigitation
"poof" quite few months absent

necessitating rejiggering
displaced vanished days forcing
latter time keeping paradigm absorbent,
asper sands of time no matter such
figurative tectonic shift population

aghast at August accomplishment
and probably did March in protest,
cuz entire season,
sans couture accouterment
suddenly rendered obsolete and unfashionable

manually crafted, swiftly tailored, and
harry styled clothes no mean achievement,
and uninformed folks got hashtagged
kindled, and named plenti admonishment
visited on their person such as

bumsteads, dolts, fools, et cetera
howling guffaws when derriere adornment
slapped with "kick me steady bum,"
or stuck with tail like appurtenances
eventually this "FAKE" – advancement

ha ha April fools historical joke
became embedded tradition inn advertent
lee established meshugas, where Jews
and especially gentiles went meshugoyim
generating cottage (cheesy) gum mint industry,

and brisk business for nascent advertisement
industry, (albeit handily horse drawn
attention grabbing kiln fired tablets)
mainly for (Philly buzzfeed string) affluent,
who secured lifelong gentlemen's agreement
with artisan, and of apprenticed trumpeting sons

(after tithe thing allotment) earnings
portion squirrelled away for rainy
May Day festivities ambient
brouhaha babushka's celebrating divine comedy
21st century poet tindered mild amusement
regarding this "FAKE" flight of fancy!

Premium Member The Danger of Sunglasses

I knew a young lad from the village of Trent
He wore dark sunglasses wherever he went
Ladies couldn't see his blues,
So they focused on his fuse
'Til one day his vision was entirely spent.

written November 30, 2021

Premium Member The Smug and Silver Trent

"The smug and silver Trent" - Shakespeare's Henry IV, Part I

************************************************

"The smug and silver Trent"
flooded badly in seventeen ninety-five,
when every bridge was damaged/washed away.
It's a risk today, but less so, so they say.

"The smug and silver Trent",
Will Shakespeare's quill recorded,
though at "smug" he took free license,
I would say.





10/27/2015
© Julia Ward  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Payday

A lady from Burton on Trent
Would never have sex during Lent
Her husband would bleat
So how do we eat
And how do we pay this weeks rent

Thank You Lord

Thank you Lord

thank you Lord that you are the centre of our life
thank you that you are the centre of our heart
thank you that from your love we will never part
thank you for your miracles that still stand true
thank you for all the things that you say and do
thank you that you are always there
with your Love tender care
thank you for your your healing touch so sincere and true
... but most of all i am thank full just for you. Amen.

been to A & E with leanne, yes again, she has a fractured wrist which came close to needing an operation, as I was praying she would not need one and would not need it pinning leanne was hopeing she would not have to be put to sleep at all and praying against having an operation , I told leanne to trust God and he will do what is best for her, in the end the doctor came and said they were going to use the laughing gas to push the bone back in place, Leanne did not get on well with that and ended up just having it pushed back with out any anything at all,. our God is so great working together for the good of those that love him.
the best news is leanne talked about going to maze again at trent on week one or 2 on the the way home from QMC this is awesome, she is still at youth group tonight and insisted she is not missing church group for anything Amen God has fixed more than just two bones today for leanne Amen , she loves God whole hearted and she loves tent youth group.

Premium Member The Bible Defined 11022011

Other source of supernatural knowledge is the Bible
In the words of the Council of Trent
Which enumerated the books of the Bible under their proper titles
The Church declares that she receives

All the books of the Testaments
Old and New
Since the one God is the author of both
The Vatican Council is more explicit

The Church holds those books as sacred
Canonical
Not because
Having been composed by human industry
They were afterwards approved by her authority

Nor, just because
They contain revelation without error
But, having been written under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit
They have God as their Author

The word Bible comes from the Greek ninlion meaning “the book”
The plural is biblia, was taken for a feminine singular
Testaments
The Bible is the Book par Excellence

Pleasingly Plump Praiseworthy Princesses

women that tip weigh ling needle to spin vicious circle
     akin to puppy chasing her/his tail
     or require digital scale,
at the extreme alt right registering heavy loads   
     whether young or old ought to appreciated

     as waifer thin self starved as a rail,
instead they suffer unfair injustice
     like a trapped quivering quail
thus this fatalistic, generic,

     and holistic landlubber
     wanted to point head lee 
     hammer home one secure
     heterosexual bondage stronger than

     omnipotent Marcy's Playground
     weather beaten pail
     Trent Reznor's sixty 9 inch rust free steel nail
into the coffin of bias

     against bevy of beautiful babes
     within the mind of this male,
who inherited genetic predisposition
     for being average, hearty and hale

yet feel compassion for those engaged
     in an ongoing with battle of the bulge,
     hmm... perhaps hiding ample bosom
     akin to milky sopping wet grail

or accepted unequivocally themselves
     without envy of lithesome women,
     who seem to possess flair with nary a flail
     yet possess much love to avail,

and tis wise to love oneself unconditionally
     despite premium aesthetics considered svelte
which mass media accentuates de facto spelt
definition of femininity aka runway models

     donned in faux animal pelt
whose deliberate self exhibition
     prompts madding crowd of man

     to waggle tongue with slack jaws
     as if ready to melt
or at instantaneous signal telepathically felt
drop drawers upon removing blackbelt.

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