THE LORD IS MY MUSE*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Lord is my muse; I shall not despair.
He giveth me inspiration; he leadeth me to magical waters.
He restoreth my creativity; he float-eth ideas in my mind, for poetry’s sake.
Although I write in the early morning hours and darkness of night, I will remain tireless; for thou art with me; thy energy and enthusiasm comfort me.
We traverse the night together, endlessly seeking the stars. Thou anointest me with metaphors, rhymes, and alliterations; my imagination runneth over.
Surely effortlessly flowing words shall follow me all the days of my life; and I will write in the house of His spirit forever.
*Note: This poem was written for a 2024 Poetry Soup contest in which entrants were to adapt Psalm 23 for writers. My intent, therefore, was not to plagiarize the Bible.
Before I embrace you vision mine eyes;
I am so aroused entrants by you:
Often as I adorn heart beats: WHYS?
those that the visions views souls shine hues;
I see your eyes beautiful so trues
~
I see, I touch, I embrace you such;
I so embrace the thought paid my dues;
I soul, my mind, my heart loves you much;
I stand and tall I am burden in a crutch;
Come unto me my darling let's soul touch;
1/25/2024
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2024©
Every day I see children excited
Makes me feel really delighted
Children on a playground swing
Parents just sitting doing their thing
I go to the races, and when they win
People just cant keep their excitement in
The thrill of winning is bound to excite
Especially for a contest on a poetry site
Been a long time since I have had luck
At the club one night I won a duck
I was lucky that I had struck it
Until I got home and had to pluck it
Had my share of excitement and fun
Last year I went in City to Surf fun run
Hundreds of entrants at the starting
Many on the way were seen departing
This the end of my entry to the contest
I'll be excited if picked as the best
I'll put the trophy high up on a shelf
Cause the only one to look at it is myself.
Sponsor Constance La France
Contest Name Writing Challenge - Words with 'X'
Word Chosen : excited
1st May 2023
There's a passport I would like to revoke
from one person who thinks it's a joke
to repeatedly make fun of fellow writers.
Like a pugilist, she calls us 'prizefighters.'
What harm if we enjoy entering contests?
That doesn't prove whose poetry is best
because one person's opinion has weight
and another says it's open for debate.
If she's trying to deflate anyone's intellect,
she won't do it with a weapon of disrespect.
I applaud people who bravely try a new form
They're not afraid to write out of the norm.
She stabs with a pen, trying to draw blood
while sitting on her toosh like a couch spud.
We don't write to be popular. She's wrong,
but lord, she keeps howling the same ol song.
She claims we want attention and a high profile,
but her posts draw attention in words that defile.
I've never understood why her eyes get glazed
over contest entrants who should be praised.
She dares write of grace and having humility
but complains vehemently, and with hostility.
Her PS passport should be revoked & shredded
as punishment for being rude and hardheaded.
SOUNDS FISHY
In this recent competition I was number one
And they confirmed officially that I had won
But I actually heard from entrant number two
And she was also told that she had won too
I do wonder what are organisers really for
So few entrants, as there were only four
The prize was a Scottish holiday up in Fife
Not for the full seven days, but only five
I requested if they could extend it to eight
But I never made it there, something I ate
*Image of Winnie-the-Pooh Spoon Race by the sponsor.
AUDIO: by Ka'au Crater Boys singing 'House at Pooh Corner' popularized by Kenny Loggins
Christopher Round-Robin
Christopher Robin, whose name bears o'er song,
strained mid per sideline crowd of the racetrack,
praising those three most skilled entrants along,
Piglet, Tigger, plus Pooh Bear hears soundtrack.
Strained mid per sideline crowd of the racetrack,
ah, the well-versed Rabbit and his small friends,
Piglet, Tigger, plus Pooh Bear hears soundtrack,
Owl talks and sees while y'all listen, sight lends.
Ah, the well-versed Rabbit and his small friends,
praising those three most skilled entrants along,
Owl talks and sees while y'all listen, sight lends,
Christopher Robin, whose name bears o'er song.
*Photo #4
2021 August 01
*2nd Place*
Pantoum Rhyme 1
~~Eve Roper: Judged 2021 August 13
In sponsoring a contest, one should know
the basics of the poetry that he
is judging! If the form has got a flow
such as iambic, that’s what we should see!
Of course, there’s more to poetry than that.
Free verse we know is different from rhyme!
One ought to judge the forms that he’s good AT,
and with each entry that he gets, take time
to analyze those elements which should
be mentioned as what he is looking for
so entrants know what he considers “good:”
the message? Imagery? Succinctness? More?
If judging, I’d be clear with rules, and I’d
be nice to poets I could tell had tried!
May 18, 2021
for the Judge Not Lest Ye Be Poetry Contest of John Lawless
THE ETERNAL TRIANGLE
In the arena of love
The crowd await
As they see
The lifting
Of the players gate.
And in they come
Two entrants unknown
And as they meet
Chemicals fly
The betting is born.
The crowd begin
A bet here, a bet there,
Are they stayers, or not
Will they eventually pair?
And then the gate
Opens once more
And the third slowly,
Enters, Sly through the door.
The stakes are raised,
Watchers eyes shine
Lips are licked
Gossips gobble and dine
In the Arena
The crowd await
As they see the closing
Of the players gate.
The horses were frightened
refused to leave their stalls
Some kind of racial clash
compromised the safety of all
Then one horse looked about
one fact clearly stood out
15 Derby entrants, 4/5 brown or black
not one white stallion in the whole shack
Well, this was quite the crisis
it called for a calm and cool head
That's when that one horse
Put a call in to Mr. Ed
Ed picked up the receiver
but his voice sounded strange
I can't help you posthumously, he said
I'm now 'Home on the Range'
They pollinate our farms
Without them, what would we do?
They give us the opportunity
To eat those veggies and fruits
They pollinate our farms
Help us to satisfy our appetites
With gourmet cuisines grown
By those who know the richest earth
They pollinate our farms
With their jubilant buzzing praise
Creating what we cannot
Blessings of God’s endless grace
They pollinate our farms
Give us a sample of what it takes
To bring about nature’s miracles
With their dancing wings of yellow
They pollinate our farms
Without them, what would we do?
They bring us a wealth of good bounty
To keep us filled with nutrients.
September 11, 2019
Where Bumbles Bounce Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: craig cornish
POET'S NOTES: I reread the instructions for this and it said memories which I have a few of - being stung when going barefoot, etc... but I'd already written this so decided to enter it anyway. Hope it's not too far off topic and if it is - God bless the entrants who have a better idea of bee memories than I do.
A keyboard was on a typewriter or piano
Spankings were approved of, rarely condemned
Clothing was 'gay' --- brightly colored
They rolled up the sidewalks at 10 p.m.
We said 'heck' for 'hell' and 'darn' for 'damn'
Teachers were respected, never disparaged
Left-handed kids were forced to be righties
Death, not divorce, dissolved most marriages
A click usually meant a torn meniscus
Folks shopped in windows and stores
Cash was king; credit, irresponsible
TV dinners, unanimously deplored
Marathons had fewer than 100 entrants
Devices were mechanical, not electronic
Nobody I knew took showers, just baths
'Human' meant 100% being, not bionic
Everything written above is true
I swear that it is, doggone it!
O Fingernail Moon
pointing down at the ocean
what goddess clipped you?
O clipped fingernail
without your acute reply
can I scratch mind’s itch?
Scratch may be:
the swipe to light the match
the breech that summons blood
the spouse of pad
the early exit before the race
the gelt to stay and play
the flaw on the record’s face
the mindless cry of the itch
How do I scratch mind’s itch?
Pray to the word to guide you:
O Scratch, light the way
of mind’s blood
into my poems.
One possibility:
If you can swipe the match to light the mind
and from the slice follow the summoned blood
until ripe words spill upon the sorting plane
and weak entrants leave before the race
while hope sticks to build on the opening ante
you may at last scratch out a piece of verse
that justifies this frenzied motion back and forth.
O Fingernail Moon
does the goddess know or guess
what she has released?
The doors stance, do I question
At my request, did it open
Though at will, did it shut tight
As its entrants, did it welcome
But he who turns his back
Has only that which his mind can hold
A world, did I leave behind
A better day, did I see ahead
Optimism, was no challenge to maintain
Though it is they, who poison my mind
With their words of reminisce
That brings out the regret in me
My decision, I can accept
Consequence was my own bounding
For my motives, I thought well
A being of excellence, was my sight to be
A dream did I seek to life
Though a shell of my former self, has my sight become
Remorse, do I ask of none
For their well wishes, I heard loud
Though to my ignorance, had I only listened
As to stay, their pleas never stopped
Though acknowledgement, I saw no need
My heart to them, I did not know belonged
Hello soupers..' I have voided a contest due to the fact I had a glitch in not
being able to keep poems that were not compatible with the theme of the
contest out of the second round I am most put out at this state of affairs,
I was very pleased with the entries that did address the subject I have re-
started the contest with a September end date as I considered that entrants
will have poems saved on file, if this is too soon for anyone I would like you
to message me or leave a reply, thank you all..'
There's an excercycle race on
Down at the local gymn
One guy's clearly out in front
But others closing in
All are pedalling frantically
They like to win these races
Each one with a determined look
As sweat pours down their faces
There's an exercycle race on
Down at the local Gym
This one's for ladies only
It's part of keeping trim
Each one of them has extra fat
A reservoir in case
Additional energy's required
To make the finals race
There's an exercycle race on
Down at the local gym
Vast calories are burning off
A race for life and limb
The mirrors on the wall will show
A worthy use of time
As most entrants likely should admit
They're more than past their prime
In the exercycle races
Down at the local gymn
At least one person's thinking on
What it is that's asked of him
All this time and money spent
Just maybe could be making power
To put on to the national grid
Then charged out by the hour
If we could store this energy
For use in something good
Like the greening of the planet
Then we probabubbly should
In some big battery somewhere
Or tank or holding pond
And draw on it when lakes are dry
Next summer and beyond
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