Tell me masters of cringe
Should we suffer so long
Practising what you preach
Can’t you make it alone?
That will be fair enough
If you do what you say
Never mind a good laugh
You’re a joke anyway
You’re the masters of cringe
And you never retire
Your warlords on a binge
Setting buildings on fire
People want you to die
But the God says oh no
I don’t want these old guys
Strutting out at my show
They are devil’s concern
But the Devil says nay
They’re too stinky to burn
I shall kick them away
Back to where they belong
To that muddy old soil
Where they’ll drown all alone
In the puddle of oil.
On the 11th of September
A day we should all remember
That sad day the Twin Towers came falling down
Crashing to the ground
That fateful, infamous day
When Americans passed away
2,977 unfortunate souls
Went up to become God's Guardian Angels
And let's remember as well
Those who died from the toxins in the air from hell
Those Brave Police Officers, Firemen, EMTs and brave Citizens
To rescue people, went back in again and again
Now, God's Guardian Angels watch over us
As we do dangerous things and such
Things that must be done, understand?
To save people in danger, as many as we can
So, let's bow our heads and say a prayer
For our Heroes who die every day everywhere
Our Heroes who may not always get recognized
But are Brave Heroes none the less in our eyes
When you relax after your day is done
Please remember our Heroic Unlucky Ones
Who are sadly no longer here
To Them, raise a cup, drink a toast of wine, spirits or beer
Remember we must!
Cause when the debris is cleared and cleared the dust
The Terrible War Site is gone
But the Memories live on...
Copyright ©? Jeff W. Watson, September 11, 2026
On the day the angels came
To the island of the dead
There was nothing more to do
And all had been already said
The waters black with time
Circled round the rocks of lime
The trees had turned to stone
And the sky had long gone home
On the day the angels came
To the island of the dead
There was no air for breathing
Nor room for wings to spread
All light had fled the caves
All souls were left unsaved
And the buildings of the past
Came tumbling down at last
On the day the angels came
To the island of the dead
They gave one fleeting glance behind
But moved swiftly on ahead
The buildings
It was the lost
It was the people
who didn't know where to go
It was for people who didn't know who to grieve
how to love
how to be
Just live
The path
He took me sightseeing
Hand in hand
Smiling bright
Eyes for each other
To the city of his dreams
Navigating the twists and turns of the streets
Awed by the sights and sounds
The majestic buildings
Their architectural splendour
Where history whispers
And echoes through its corridors
We stopped by a quaint cafe
Enriched by the experience of it all
Buildings blue
pink, yellow, orange
and white in
a row, and it is
snowing.
At midnight
they seem to hover
in the dark,
and snow glows
in the sky
and on the ground.
No telling
if they are all alone.
Perhaps,
they are facing
neighbors.
The blue building,
teal and curtain-less,
abandoned,
and yet freshly painted.
The pink house
is decorated
with pretty lights
in swag fashion.
An orange church
is between
the pastel yellow
and large white home.
Its windows are stained
in saintly colors; its steeple
like praying hands.
The windows seem to twinkle.
And the steeple invites
those who find themselves
in the darkness; and
the lights are
on the verge of welcome.
We know nothing
of the townsfolk.
They are sleeping
as the pleasant snow,
fluffy white
hides its beauty
until morning light.
'Scepter and Crown
must tumble down.'
wrote a poet of a long past day.
For want of renewal,
must so many a school
not tumble but crumble away.
Wonky is nature's norm!
Our obsession with straightness,
conceived in arrogant innocent bliss,
kowtows to a belief
that adroit straightness
following straight lines,
somehow makes things stronger, smarter,
more eye-pleasing and ever better in the long run.
But entropy knows better than the 'know-alls',
that everything transforms and decays
to maximum disorder in time.
For order and straightness
requires the input of energy
and effort that entropy lusts
to pull down, bend, twist and topple.
Being simply, wonky simple is a start!
Light beams at dawn, are one of the
rare straight things things seen in nature.
These beams shine dead-eye straight
into wonky clouds that blush red,
embarrassed to be caught outside,
in fluffy slippers with night clothes on,
feeling kinda shonky, disheveled and wonky, as
the humans, straight-faced,
said they were.
drenched roses shiver
dark silhouettes buildings far
sliver of moon shines
Concrete looming into the sky,
Cars and people rushing by.
This is the town man has built,
Causing mother nature to take a tilt.
You don't see here sunny rays,
Everything appears through an exhaust fume haze.
In these towns, violence and crime are rife,
Is this what man wanted to make of life.
If he goes on detroying nature to make his town,
One day this whole world will come crashing down.
Buildings and Mind
Houses, mansions and big castles
Statues, monuments, and holy temples
All are built with cemeht and sand
Mixed and erupted on solid land
Once shattered, could be rebuilt
without changing the original requisite
Thoughts and memories of many kind
Made along with time, in human mind
Kindness, affection, love land trust
Never be compromised at any cost
Unlike the lifeless man made buildings
Human minds are delicate seedlings
When once the trust is severely impaired!
Difficult to mend and be repaired
A sunny Sunday afternoon
The daffodils are sprouting
You and I walk hand in hand
Antiquing and just browsing
We're looking for a wooden tray
Not sure just how we'll use it
But like my bluebird's tender love
I'd never want to lose it
Houses, mansions, and big castles
Statues, monuments, and holy temples
All are built with cement and sand
Mixed and erupted on solid land
Once, if shattered, they can be rebuilt
without changing the original requisite
Thoughts and memories of many kinds
Along with time, made in human mind
Kindness, affection, love, and trust
Will blend with heart and soul upfront
Unlike the lifeless man-made buildings
Human bonds are delicate seedlings
That’s why, if and when they are impaired
Difficult to mend them, and to be repaired
He was a designer from an early age
He knew this when he turned a catalog’s page
His parents were proud; his ideas were all the rage
He grew up to design buildings, some will never age
He has a knack for seeing things in a new way
His designs are incredible which is why we’re here today
To honor this designer who had such a great eye
He designed this building – so gorgeous, it gives me a sigh.
Titanium white floats on the snow OWLS path
Large black eyes focused front and down to hunt
Rodents worship birds of prey but fear being eaten
There is more to life than living in the trees
Over the river and to the left a cathedral ends
Inside there once dwelt a tabernacle bright
Now once upon a time and than again a temple comes
There are no gods inside do to structural concerns
Some buildings take on the powers of creation
Becoming more than the sum of their holy parts
Pray to your building blocks, to your creation
Sleep with your pillows where your heads lie down
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