“Happiness is contagious. It can be sparked by one single happy man, making it spread into many, as a small amount of yeast ferments large quantities of dough" – By Poet
Happiness is seeing beauty in simple things.
It is drinking nectar from the wellsprings of our heart
We sense it as we listen to the sweet warbling of birds.
We see it on the beaming faces of children in gregarious company.
We feel it as we watch the clouds painted in pretty patterns and shades
In the burgundy blush of the welkin, as sun gets ready for his rest.
In the beauty of the moon, shimmering on the silvery waters.
Happiness flits round the innocent face of a babe,
As it is nestled close in the cosy warmth of its mother.
It is the sparkle seen reflected in the eyes of a mother,
As she cuddles her baby tight to her throbbing bosom.
It sneaks into young hearts with sweet whisperings of love.
It hides in deep caverns of the mind, jumping out unexpected,
But may withdraw into its secret hideout, when invited.
Happiness is something that we seek, but sadly it eludes our hold.
Falsehood of Pharisees, like yeast, ferments and aerates truth.
Hence, the path of those who chose to live in truth is not smooth.
Are ice slabs formed accidentally during spring nights strong?
So too, the deceptions of false prophets do not last long.
Truth, like precious gems, can't hide under the earth forever.
Bright days will reveal nightly evil's every endeavour.
As spring birds sing in harmony, choirs in a sanguine tone
Deeds of loot and murder done secretly will be made known.
What use is the physique once the psyche from it is gone?
Could those who kill the body bring to the soul a new dawn?
Each little creature is cared for by Abba the Almighty.
Why, then, fear the frail flaunters who, verily, are flighty?
Embrace the truth! Shun from falsehood! Follow the law of love!
Aren't you peerless, you asked, carved in the hands of God above?
I won't pick out one special Poetry Soup poet
None of us are worthy of being a poet Laureate
Choosing just one who has skills shouldn't be a goal
It's like separating a favorite sheep from the foal
Saying its wool has the most beautiful fleece
doesn't seem to be the right way to have peace
There are many poets who write with quality
and if I choose only one, I'd owe an apology
to those I didn't honor by using their name
I don't want to be guilty and won't take the blame
for entering any contest on Poetry Soup
that might hurt someone's feelings in the group
Picking a favorite could cause further division
I don't think alienating any poet is a good decision
Congrats to those who earn it with great writing
No one deserves to be overlooked by slighting
It's my opinion so I have the freedom to say
If peace is to exist in PS, it won't be found this way
Some great poems are written as lyrics to a song
but naming one above the others seems wrong
Tell those you admire by making kind comments
Prevent hurt feelings and ill will before it ferments
Such divisiveness might hurt another poet's heart
It's not pleasant to taste buds, too sour and too tart
in the manure,
grows the flower
ever-sweet is the shower
of rancid skunk juice
that ferments mist the tower
a rodents pile dung
4/1/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2024©
My wide wild imagination often carries me there,
To that fantastic ethereal world of elegance;
Where those immaculate white beings, like goddesses care,
With meekness, patience, gladness, and heroic vigilance...!
Though I don't know the truth, faith, like the yeast in me ferments,
Thinking of glorious, gorgeous beings joyous I feel,
Might and immortality merges with frankincense scents,
My soul wrapped by spirits, I sing glory with zest and zeal...!
With Dominions, Cherubims, thrones, and Principalities,
Firmaments shine like lights of million suns and moons and stars;
Grace and grandeur, reign with love and less of legalities,
Breaking boundaries, my physique and psyche cross the bars...!
All existential crises of this mundane world will cease,
Rid of all pains and aches, I'll enjoy the heavenly peace...!!!
As lemonade evaporates in humid haze,
Upbeat, the pollen sway, so sweet the starry buds,
Good times abound for goldenrod with golden locks!
Unwitting sun ferments in glitzy-bitsy blooms,
Seductive nectar, Nature’s bubbly, brews a buzz,
Two tipsy bees in gold-dust slippers tango dance.
Oh! The joy of life when one it seems
wants to climb into a portrait of sentiment,
only then to create a trembling emotion
that completes an insatiable mind,
when one’s image blending with nostalgia
ferments for a moment like a perpetual habit
served up as vintage wine.
To be reconciled with one’s inner self,
the body here now, yet, a mind
locked in another dimension reliving
a fading monochrome print, brought
to life with one’s own vivid anamnesis.
© Harry J Horsman 2022
Relieve yourself of those words while you still can,
For words left unsaid may haunt you.
Regret ferments deeper than guilt ever shall,
Fear not what the spilling of the truth entails.
Relieve yourself of these feelings untold,
For such feelings will consume you when left alone.
Even when pain derived of emotion is greater than bodily destruction,
Fear not what you may do to find relief,
For you can carry on through the release of such thoughts and feelings.
Cellphone monologue
I’ve been driving, you know the road is no highway,
how taxing, skirting potholes, cajoling the new jalopy
will be there for a candle lit supper, come what may.
Out of the glare, jacarandas form a fragrant canopy
into the glow of passion driving down Love Boulevard
Oh my, your texts been erecting toll gates between us!
I need money to get through to you, road is barred.
Do you honestly believe I deserve to be treated thus?
Sometimes a man has to make do with his love ration.
But the once-sweet ferments, then love loses a mate
when the woman darts in and out for material fashion
though she knows full well her lover is no Bill Gates.
Hard to believe we used to be such a rhyming couple
my said inadequacy has made me reel under the rubble.
A period of youthful vim ferments
as coruscating golden flecks in eyes
that mesmerise and tantalise, give rise
to secrets in my breast to stir, foment.
The xanthous tresses that cascade torment.
My eager and impressionable sighs
that echo every pirouette and pliés,
a fleeting intercession of lament.
A maverick when it comes to amour
and quintessentially a rakish cad.
Unrequited love longstanding rancour,
but finally become your paramour.
An enigmatic smile ever so sad;
your broken heart I gladly give succour.
‘Tis the season with all the scents
Like thistle leaves of pine ferments
Burning logs sweet frankincense
A season of reflective white
whimsical feathered snowy bright
Crystals shape an eyes delight
To treasure kindred interludes
A time of blessed fortitude
questing for in perpetude
Peering through shadow window panes
A glimpse of heaven I do claim
Grasping onto seasons Reign
resistance is not coarse currents;
electromagnetic ferments,
whooshing waves, subatomic spell
insulating amber, cloned crest
neither is resistance a bridge;
inky intervals at bruised bliss
bounty binders by gores girded
lanky lime, felon feast aided
resistance is all but a feast;
mystic mood burnished'n sassy spree
el'vated will, Siamese sway
commedia dell'arte engraved
resistance is rhythmic sway;
a porous plague with sundry traits.
'20:06:23:17:57
Note: of rusty resistance.
wanky urge whooshes
puking rustic rhythm
nauseated by billows
busty ecstasy borrow
generous lust lent
passion prior invested
delicate capillaries crushed
lurched lanky lust
oozes, gores gulped
fostered faith rent
fiery surge ferments
licking lusty test
dark dance drips
from lustful limbs.
'20:02:28:14:48
saucy smoke smirks
gulping gaunt lurch
puking punctured bitumen
blurs bleeding bountifully
filling cloud's peeper
with whooshing phlegm
taunted track clothes
fiery ferments: glows
skate speed blows
voluptuous velocity's vibe
into dances drives
sassy soles thrive
mushy thoughts merges
speed, emotions surge.
'20:02:21:18:29
Like wine,
Poets age with every year
Tattered labels stained,
vintners unclear
Bordeaux, Merlot, or Cabernet,
words mellow in the dark
Where time ferments a riper day
—its richness to impart
(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2019)
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