He is bright and curious
Mr. 2025
Eager to give new fresh starts
He is handsomely suave and sophisticated
Without being abrupt or mean
Mr. 2025
New possibilities
Lovely beginning
It can travel upward and inward or downward and outward
Once bestowed this gift, man must decide whether to go forward or backward
Whether to go back or forth, many men will never ponder or know to ask
And maybe, just maybe, if they do know, they also know it may be a Sisyphean task
Nevertheless, the gift whether used or abused, is real
It is evident in how man looks, acts, and feels.
Santa with his ruby-red cheeks and robust waistline sliding down the chimney
With his claustrum bag, he's jolly and bearing gifts of plenty
But not just on the 25th of December
Santa delivers all year in the Hope that man will know and remember
Yes!
It gives and it keeps on giving whether acknowledged or appreciated
But oh, too often it's not so it's foolishly deleted
Man's gift, the sweet essence of life that sustains
Handsomely, it rewards but only if he retains
I'm way ahead of the darkness that cast shadows
& there's no looking back when moving with his light
I'm light years away so even if you're walking by
I'm still way too out of sight
Crystal clear blue sight sees the waves way before
they reach gritty shores
I pulled anchors & set sail to see what this voyage
had in store
The answer for many of life's questions can be found
in deep waters you won't visit because it's cold
Too deep for the thin skinned but you must dive as
fortune favors the soul that's bold
I'm sold on this fact based on experience not vicarious
stories told to win
The wages of going to war with yourself can't be counted
but you're paid handsomely for the win
Immerse yourself in the battle & lock in for this is the
key to your elevation
I surmise that there's many counting themselves out
but this is a guess not summation
A hypothesis if you will as I don't know you, but the
joke is on you if you don't dive
Many hide behind masks of jest but the joke is on you
& your disguise
They chatted for so long
The day was here to meet
She was so excited
Feeling her hearts every beat
He was Scottish and oh so lovely
She thought he may be the one
She had looked for red flags
But there had been none
Meeting place was at the pier
The wind was blowing a fearsome gale
Her beautiful brushed hair blew wild and free
The gusts were steadfast with no intention to curtail
He stood there handsomely in traditional Scottish dress
She thought her heart had stopped
A mighty gust of wind then blew his kilt up
Thats the moment she knew…..she had hit the jackpot!!
We could learn a lot from Doctor Doom
He's ruling the country of Latveria
and everyone is happy
There's literally no unemployment
and there is no war; civil or foriegn
The people of Latveria dance in the streets
and they love one another unconditionally
Yes, he rules with an iron fist... literally
but the devotion to him is rewarded handsomely
There is no famine, everyone is well fed
and the schools are rich with knowledge and learning
He's a ruler that is loved and he/Doom simply yearns for one thing...
to rule the world
So why don't we let him.
The young man sits handsomely
Enjoying his perch in all ways
High above the cool foamy waters
Showing off his love of Norway
We laugh when we receive the photo
It is so “him”; captures his personality.
He will never change, we tell his dad.
I hope not, he replies.
Many employees or professionals will say, "I love my job".
Yet, many other workers will exclaim, "I hate my job".
I've had jobs that I hated, but livelihood and necessity
demanded that I keep working in spite of its drudgery.
The meaning of work defines the purpose of work. *
Unmeaningful work often defies the purpose of work.
Then, the question arises; must work be meaningful?
We are all aware of, by experience or otherwise,
the reality of working on a 'dead-in job'.
Most people aspire and long for meaningful work.
They prepare, train, and pursue work that not only
matches their skill set but also work and careers
that value them as humans and reward them accordingly.
Many times, the rewards of work exceed 'the happiness factor',
often resulting in the need for changes that yield 'meaning work'.
Is my work enterprising and audacious or is it simply drudgery?
It's not enough to be paid handsomely; work must be fulfilling.
082222PS
*Celebrate the Labor Day Holiday
Reflecting (Self-Esteem)
Reflection of yourself,
Physically sometimes so painful to see,
Yet a lady should remember
How she was born beautifully.
Reflection of your life,
Emotionally some times are difficult to heal,
Yet a girl has the right to high emotionality,
Only to eventually learn to truly love.
Reflection of yourself,
Physically sometimes so bothersome to see,
Yet a man should remember
How he was born handsomely.
Reflection of your life,
Emotionally some times are difficult to forget,
Yet a boy has the right to be strong,
Only to eventually learn to grow-up a little more.
Reflection of ourselves,
Spiritually sometimes we feel frustrated,
Yet a humanity has the choice
On to be good, or to be “bad”, it’s all right in a way.
Handsomely heroic
Half human heavyweight
Hera hates, harries him
Hacks hideous hydras
Hunts horrid Hades hound
Hippolyta heister
Hitches honey, Hebe
—————
For the “Greek mythology” Poetry Contest”
Sponsored by Joseph May
Syllables checked with HowManySyllables.com
Written on 02/25/2022
Before me is a pile of bricks.
Some so handsomely carved from granite and quartz,
Fit for the construction of any deserving community.
And some are made of mud and straw, dried in the sun,
Thumb prints of this world and even a few of my own.
These bricks are mine to carry.
Beautiful or not, they are all heavy, but it is an honor to stack them,
I shuffle to and fro in the brickyard, trying not to let them sink in the mud.
Sometimes so exhausted, so sore, not knowing where the next one will go,
And then I see your face, the way you looked at me when we first fell in love.
The bricks begin to change.
Though the work is hard the bricks soften in my hands,
They lighten as does my heart when you hold me, when you are near.
The bricks become warm to the touch, as though they are coming alive,
Much like my senses when I see you smile, when I hear your laugh.
The bricks are like doves.
I know the bricks are the foundation of my life,
But when I carry them with you, they float into place with fidelity and care.
And they fly from my mind in the beautiful sunlight,
When I am with you, so vulnerable and yet strong, together as one.
I love you.
VISIT ZANZIBAR
where the spelendors beach found from far north to east,
as well as identically you shall encounter all over the coast,
Its cloud handsomely shining in blue light,
and it's sunshine sunning so bright exquisite,
hence it's beach looks cleaness and neat,
I really miss the word and sentences to explain it,
because it's endless beauty and excite,
hence, visit Zanzibar, you shall admit,
Ali Mohammed
msheli@excite.com
Zanzibar Islands
Tanzania
her daintiness well hidden
Armora slid out of bed
fully sheathed in full armour
ready to fight anything that came along today
A handsomely muscled knave arrived with breakfast.
She let him live.
Her ex-husband popped in.
Where had he gotten a key?
She picked up her sword.
A~B~C
Astonishingly
Beautiful
Cornucopia
Dancing
Entrancing
Fairies
Graciously
Handsomely
Infinitely
Jubilant
Kittenish
Lively
Mood
Naughtily
Outrageously
Playing
Quaint
Rapturous
Simplistic
Tunes
Underneath
Velvet
Willows
Xylophones
Zinging…
Written 9th May 2020
Contest ABC
Sponsor Allright Poet
Contest Brian's Choice A
Sponsor Brian Strand
HONORABLE MENTION
Set-a-spell, and I'll spin you a yarn
of Bobby and Suzy, who lived in a barn:
Rooster crowed at the crack of dawn
Suzy slept on; Bobby stifled a yawn
But he had to get up; he worked on a farm
First milk the cows, then get out of that barn
Collect all the eggs that the chickens did lay
Bobby did his job well; he was handsomely paid
And just what did he make? How much was his pay?
After work, Suzy'd give him a roll in the hay
She'd get all worked up, all set to explode
Then from Suzy the cow a load of milk flowed
I've seen the best in him, yet he was a wind that blows everywhere. Happiness to me meant him when all I thought of was his handsomely love. Not knowing that I'm a feather that was lost in a dark place.
Words I wanted to hear was a misery to have. Love never had its way towards me
As I always look at it, it always seems too good until it fades away.
To imperfect it was an alternative move to let it conquer my joy,
Knowing that it's never for me felt not enough as I saw it as a better ideal place to visit.
I saw it coming but I ignored the fact that it's not pure- but it's a better chance to let my sorrow sink in.
To love is enough when to let go it's a pain to endure.
I'm a simple lover
Related Poems