"The languish are not the unfortunate ones, they're only victims of circumstances. Let's throw in the buoy."
- Quote _ by poet
They become weak as the days go by,
Some even fall and die,
The elements are too feeble to prop them,
Something else pervades the realm.
Their beneficiaries are nonchalant to their plight,
They’re engrossed in their search for light,
Ignoring the attendant effects,
Jettisoning the causative defects.
The former are gradually becoming a shadow,
Around them is a shrivelled meadow,
They’re bleeding on the inside,
The writings are all on the outside.
I found him lying on his bed,
hair tousled and with a sweet smile.
I realized that he was dead.
I knew this was no show of guile.
A lifeless shell fueled with faith
betrayed a muted mask of wraith.
Though none, I called Emergency.
They asked me blankly, “Are you sure?”
No breath, stiff limbs, lividity –
a terminal illness, no cure.
“I’m sure (as Hell!), yes positive!”,
assuming that, the causative.
All three came as well as ER,
coroner, sheriff, mortician.
One to play the body’s chauffer.
One to judge the man’s condition.
One to say there was no more breath.
One to announce the “formal” death.
A cold harshness to the moment,
finality so sure and straight.
No use to sit down and lament.
Too late to try to clear the slate.
It is what it is, as they say.
Nothing further to do but pray.
An homage of his joy and bliss;
his ardour for life and nature.
His pure love for God not remiss;
his place within Heaven secure.
A faith-based life and in the end
all he wanted was one true friend.
I’m going to take some excellent advice
Some poets whose negativity is depressing
[Actually, it’s not going to be such a sacrifice
Negativity, I have long been suppressing.]
Some poets whose negativity is depressing
Can find so little to be uplifting about
Negativity, I have long been suppressing
Why read them if they come on with a shout?
Can find so little to be uplifting about
They focus on all that’s unsavory and sad,
Why read them if they come on with a shout?
Frankly, not everything afoot is always bad!
They focus on all that’s unsavory and sad
Spending their time tearing down what’s good
Frankly, not everything afoot is always bad
True, not everything is going as it should.
Spending their time tearing down what’s good
I, on the other hand, choose to think positively
True, not everything is going as it should,
Some things are just natural and not causative.
I, on the other hand, choose to think positively
It is not going to be such a sacrifice --
Some things are just natural and not causative,
I’m going to take some excellent advice.
Written November 6, 2022
It seems that we’d not seen enough
Of young actress Hilary Duff.
What is the causative?
She’s body-positive;
I won’t be the one to rebuff!
Causative agent of disease
One of several variants to appease
Void of any discriminating abstractions
Interaction breeds human contagion
Distress inflamed in us by slow vaccination
Vaccine does diminish Covid effects
Antigen activity does reject
Chills that instill fear among us
Coughs that grip lungs, with expulsion dubious
Immunizations, please make haste
Never ending cautions are relentless
Ensuring man’s safety is quite precarious .
law'd ya'll gonna get me to be straight
she told the member of the press
we gay down here gal
how i look committing to sum man
have generations of people
talking together at a ceremony
kissin sum man: .
don't look right saying I dew.
I does but when they dew, dew they?
being submissive to sum man,
well that's sorta strange, deranged and kinda like
sumthang my momma wanted.
ah shucks, I forgot to mention
think I better pay attention
sumthang want me to say
now she be rie for loving and pregantationitive
but marrge up on a woman
and settling to a man might be
submissivation
a part of causative fussin.
she at gonna be with just you
tell me what you want to dew
be juss you and me rite.
i gotta dyke at home, six chillium daddies
and this ole fool want me to settle down-nay wit hymn.
huh! aint happening he crazy!
he crazy!
he crazy!
Not all mentors are positive
I’ve come to realize
In fact, mine is quite causative
Of things from which I agonize
He calls himself Pierre
And he hides inside my head
His words wrap around my thoughts - a snare
Tearing my esteem into shreds
If I’m not careful he’ll be:
Tap, tap, tapping on my consciousness
Rapping on my thoughts
Screaming his way into my everything
And he does.
As atrocious as he is
He has taught me many a thing
For he is me as I am his
We’re tied together with an unbreakable string
He has taught me to live with my insecurities and fears
As he exposes (and attacks) them in his rants
And I’ve learned over these years
That even I, with all my flaws, deserve a chance
Finding Happiness
Far away there is way
Need to find things which can be affined
Hard tries never get lured
Failure are there god is a saviour
Honesty just needed to be modest
Patience is a wise thing just required essence
Positive thinking will make a causative.
Glory will come assuring the truth..
I Promise That I Try
An unremitting struggle that imprisons me within
Constantly trying to juggle between morality and sin
Change my perception and try to transform my ways
Head in a direction that will lead me to better days
I attempt with all my heart but it conflicts with all my passion
If given a chance to restart there is a great deal that wouldn't happen
I make a point to be positive but always seem to regress
Insecurities must be a causative that created all my stress
I can no longer find the words to say, but I must apologize
A relentless attempt to change my ways, I Promise That I Try
I've never written a triolet before
I thought I'd give it a go.
Some are beautiful, but a bit repetitious
for my liking, no offense anybody
At last a contest, I could win
This challenge seems quiet causative
And made me think, while I begin
At last, a contest I could win
And write this Opus, with a grin
Because I'm feeling positive
At last a contest I could win
This challenge seems quiet causative
JTCurtis June 2014
People need something to believe-
Something to bleed-
Thoughts only thick as flesh-
Visions of the future must mesh-
With all want and will-
The pursuit of personal thrill-
Eliminate possibilities of grief-
Since this thing called time’s a thief-
I must try to be brief-
Within myself I feel the drive-
Externally I have lives to revive-
And where I rest my head in the end-
Is hopefully in the heart of each friend-
I’ll meet-
From every street-
I’ll pass-
On the road to destiny-
See the stars above feeling no terror-
Learned from a history of error-
I’ll serve up my creative juice-
There is no excuse-
Not to consume-
Around the room-
Social minds can join-
Ideas like flipping coins-
It sure is a rush-
But hush-
Forbidden is assembling in peace-
No inspirations exchanged apiece-
Could be positive-
Though potentially causative-
Goodwill for the earth-
Should be measure for each worth-
Maybe then all will move forward-
Rather than rely on being tortured.
Why won’t you look me in the eye?
Is it the tears I continue to cry?
The lack of spirit has me lost,
With all I wish being to accost,
I feel crumpled like yesterday’s trash,
As you press on with thoughts so rash,
Cannot fathom not opening the doors,
Instead I curl up and re-open the sores,
All my knowledge felt so warm and positive,
Though appreciation in the end was causative.
Pain, hurt, grief, emotional dissatisfaction
Tormenting in great detail my spirit being
Disappointments in distinct fashion
Immense heartache like never seen
Causative organism – a pretty disguised damsel
Deceptive thoughts made her look unique
Now her confessions piercing down my nostril
Deep regrets for entrusting my most cherished antique
Pieces of my heart scattered everywhere
Friends and loved ones showing colossal sympathy
Words of encouragement here and there
The ruthless “devil” displaying stinking apathy
Modest, true and faithful – one day I will find
So we can solemnize in holy matrimony
For now suicidal intent is running through my mind
I bear in my heart so much acrimony
One
The tilted day do ruminate so slowly on its fate.
How shall one dim time’s lasting set display towards mourning?
If filled is eye with circumstance whose show pours forth such splendor bourn; what
causative power shears the moon and stars so crisply?
This night, this bright and vibrant night of squalor?
What dream has been squandered on this day?
A time of 9, of 12 of 45?
All men huddle for warmth against such numbers – all dreams are answered at 10 o’clock on
a Sunday Night when you question still the division of the week; where upon fibers strewn
with cells of being, rub your feet to
Feel the static of a million souls replete – in wonder, in longing, in spirit flesh this
day, in all that needs to say – it falls from past decay – it hangs still in hallway – the
rain pelts it to a fro – upon entry all evil reigns supreme – then slowly, surely it
passes in the mist – the gist of circumstance, the measure of all must dance – must move
against the plane – all grain must have its day, to wail, to roil in the wind before
chance cuts it down.
One.
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