lovely lively lithe Louise Lampford
grew a grainy greasy grumpy gourd
believing beyond belief in Baker’s board
she said she’d been searching for a grumpy gourd.
We thought this would delight Louise Lampford
But she could not cut the beast with machete or sword.
I am tall, I am slender,
Light Green but not cucumber.
Have a snout, have a tail,
Found in market & even retail.
Packed with Vitamin C, K & Calcium,
I punch my weight in nutrition.
Eat me & get a healthy heart, Bring down cholesterol & fat!
I am 90% water & light,
& can climb up with delight.
Eat me & be wise,
as solid, liquid or otherwise!
pregnancy craving
ate too many pumpkin pies
my skin turned orange
Nick's sword of mischief is ready,
The thrusts to be ever steady
For those he is sure are heady,
Now controllable, soon an eddy...
Nick's challengers need steely sword,
Until they accept a Made Lord,
Palm wine has failed with its swell gourd;
No one has ever pleased a horde.
Nick shall reached throats slash with his sword,
Now it's without doubt the Spring Board
For proclaiming himself First Lord
His sword at the back of his Ford...
Too bad for who'd lived in Oxford
And his English Last Name: Clifford.
evil-eyed Jack o’ lantern
grimaces in the dark~
helplessly perturbed pumpkin
I
mystery in seeds:
real to me, small, flat gourd seed
now, shoots at window smile
II
Flat white seed planted
a meter from window
three weeks: hi from window
funny little gourds
slightly ugly and bumpy
— adopted by me
10/15/2018
Let the truth of great God remain
In the hearts of chosen people;
Let all the lies be left behind
By the spirit, mind, heart, and soul.
Let the light stay radiant and bright
In the lives of true God's children;
Let not the dark conceal or blind
The open eyes of the brethren.
Let the fire of the burning love
Be kept alive, warm, and aglow;
Let it not die nor fade away,
Amidst anguish, grief, and sorrow.
Woe is brought to the twisted mind
Who turns shadows into clear light;
God shall punish the foolish one
Who changes day into cold night.
Don't ever call the good evil,
Nor put servant for divine Lord;
Never turn the sweetest mango
Into the taste of bitter gourd.
My mother was a gourd
My father was a sword
Father kissed mother
He had to shudder
My gourd mother was floored
Snap my lonely stem and
Amputate my denied attachments and
Discover the life that drains
From an open wound.
Oozing to the earth it will
Whet the desires of worms,
Each wondering why tears
Taste so much like pulp
From a pale and oddly shaped
Pumpkin.