Not the one to be a boaster,
fifty years of roller coaster
and there I am on the poster,
raising the gold bar.
High apex of the Ferris wheel
to tea cup-in-a-tempest feel,
hot love tunnel riding the keel,
and yet here we are.
I make mistakes! Sometimes?
Rather, I must say, mostly!
Even if I don't! Scandals are ready.
A good heart, I have.
But not so goodbye, I have.
Genuinely, I fix it but it mix it.
The crowd show up me late,
But wholeheartedly agree,
On ones who light up when they see me.
I give thy respect,
I never asked for,
Still that I showed, I earned for.
People will come for their needs,
But I never begged them for deeds.
Still I bless them a good health.
Nevermind, I am happy to help.
But warning you to read first line again!
That's what I am.
Love and missing ones will return,
How far they go, will return!
No need for boaster to come back.
the boaster has been bragging about his game expertise
the object is to throw the ball against the red buzzer
If the buzzer goes off, bam….
the volunteer clown falls into the water tank.
He has three chances
He boasts and brags every time
Three misses
His wife is next
He gives her some expertise tips
She lets one fly
The buzzer sounds
Down goes the clown into the water
The boaster stomps off
There is enthusiastic cheering and clapping for his wife
A life spoken of too much
locks the museum door behind it.
If you write it all down
eyeballs will skate over the
rambling litter.
Many claim to have a book in them
one worth telling to all.
Nod and agree, then flee.
A life underdone is best,
not too hard a boiled egg -
softly does it.
Better to compose pure fiction
secretly weaving some truth of you
within.
Only the subdued liar,
the retrained boaster
can fake it all the way to the end
and make you want to read on.
Under do it if you want to be noticed,
over do it and you are undone!
In my defense, in other silent words
In my actions they are deemed in perils
Harness, perish the thoughts, bring it out bring it about
It’s hard, so very, very, hard to hear
Those empty words
Those words that are always, always heard
And I won’t play favorites or try to flatter anyone
And I won’t as the grumblers malcontents following their own sinful desires
And I won’t be loud mothed boaster
Showing favoritism to gain advantage tryin to git over
While using, empty words
Empty words
Have you ever heard all of those empty, empty words?
They mean nothing if they’re not heard
Empty words
Them there those
Empty words
5/7/22
Written words by James Edward Lee © 2022
Job 32:21
St. Jude16
An Old Roster Needed a Booster
had been boaster
about booster of a booster
for an old roster
from head to his tail
while whiling away a whale
behind left big trail
why did his behind
have left big trail or maybe
big trail left behind
went out on a lamb
when I had heard that Instagram
sure was such a sham
much food on platter
caused me to become fatter
record did shatter
there once was a dunce
liked making punts and pulling stunts
would do only once
A grand tiger I am. My stripes are superb.
You need to leave me alone. I’m quick to perturb.
I’m king of the wild. A carnivore beast.
God’s molded me and made me top drawer at least.
A bragger, a boaster, now who would not be?
I’m all that and pure yellow, with stripes you can see.
I am magical, I said. I can control her.
You cannot!
Yes, I can, and I do.
You do not!
My eight-year-old twin is angry now, with a mean face.
I do not back down. Want to see?
How?
What do you want me to make her do?
Make her come down those stairs.
During Jeopardy?
I am backing up now.
Our mother loves Jeopardy, it is the only TV show she believes in.
I cannot control her during Jeopardy.
I wrack my brain
and it quickly comes up with a plan.
I smack her favorite blue glass vase off the top of the TV set.
There is a loud cracking sound.
My sister’s face turns into a horror movie.
She runs off, screaming “MAWWWWWWMMMMMMMM!”
Stomp. Stomp. Stomp.
See? I think stupidly.
I am magical!
Impulsivity is my middle name.
A braggart for sure
The top best at everything
Amazing stories
A hit at a few parties
Until we could not stand him.
Bragger Who Would Stagger
Total amount of sins was enough to stagger;
About them Trump was boaster and bragger;
Publicly profane;
Hard to explain;
Destined for disaster yet he still did swagger.
Jim Horn
The Seven Deadly Sins
Seven deadly sins:
Pride, Greed, Lust, Anger, Envy,
Gluttony and Sloth.
No altruism found here;
One-way street to selfishness.
Pride, Greed...self-centered.
All goals directed inward
To please only one...
Taker-Greed grabs, swindles all;
Boaster-Pride...smug, but lonely.
Lust and Gluttony;
Human over-indulgence
Of diverse cravings.
Lust for flesh...Gluttony, food.
Both are selfish abusers.
Anger and Envy
Sad sins of self-indulgence;
They feed each other.
Envy hates...wants what it sees;
Anger hates...wants its own way.
Sloth..non-creator
lives to just breathe, eat, sleep, be.
Only take, no give.
No motion and no action.
To be; means only to be.
Seven deadly sins:
Pride, Greed, Lust, Anger, Envy,
Gluttony and Sloth.
No altruism found here;
One-way street to selfishness.
Sandra M. Haight
~8th Place~
Contest: The Deadly Seven
Sponsor: John Lawless
Judged: 02/07/2016
My Holland America Coaster
I have never been bad, bragger or a boaster
But I have liked my Holland America coaster
Which to me was really some big surprise
Which each one was for free I did realize.
Now my coffee cup I put and place on it
After drinking then back on coaster will sit
Cup on coaster as I see both on table there
Us to go on next cruise, I wonder where.
Europe sure is such a long way to go
And jet lag down it really, always does slow
So how about two weeks in a permanent place
On beach staring at your beautiful face.
Many others are doing things like this
Have been totally relaxed and full of bliss
Instead of brains and bodies taking a beating
And for a long time sitting in tight seating.
If what you want to do is see me smile
Should go two weeks on beach near an isle
Where we together can sail to when we want
Through travel brochures should start to hunt.
Find pleasant place like this then let me know
And my get up that is gone will want to go
On vacation where our bodies can revive
And always feel welcome after we arrive.
James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran and Poet
How does that sound for a perfect vacation?
Hercules was my pet monster
He rode a big roller coaster
His bottom ached
His Heart was caked
He should never be a boaster
Hercules was my pet monster/Limerick/Copyright (C) Rajat Kanti Chakrabarty 2014
How Loud Can a Curtain Call
Why do some people prefer to discourage
When what they should do is encourage
Others to write poems and subjects to choose.
Like one which was about a perfect excuse.
I wrote a poem and became the laughing stock
After everyone ended up in a state of shock
Either it was in Oregon or perhaps Washington
Where the actual emphatic story had begun.
We here are called an incredible West coaster
Left behind on east one each bragger and boaster
While we feast on fashion here in the West
And antics are known for pulling the best.
Everyone on West Coast seems to panic
When we will end up doing a frantic antic
And after we see your faces all aglow
We turn it into a great, terrific TV show.
This is our dream always expressed precisely
For part in play we had done so nicely
There is only one way out and an escape
Jump under before they pull curtain and drape.
How about: It was certainly curtains for your show.
James Thomas Horn
Retired Veteran
He always loved the roller coaster, the Triple Loop
Rode it seventy times and never puked
Hands in the air going down hills
He never tired of upside down thrills
He was a vet of the roller coaster
Not a newbie, or rookie, but a bona fide boaster
So proud he was, so sure of the ride
That he paid no attention to the signs on the side -
The ones that tell you to never stand up -
Well he did, and paid the price soon enough
He was decapitated within a second or two
His head flew like a ball, into the blue!
Screams of fun turned to screams of terror
As everyone realized the rider’s grave error
Blood spattered shirts, hair, and faces
Came in with his body, slumped in its place
The M.E. called it, “accidental suicide” -
Citing it as the ride of his life
And unfortunately, the ride of his death
But at least he died happy, shouting “Wheeee”, with his last breath
11/27/11
for "die a fun death" contest
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