Steadily swimming
She flashes a grin
Doc in a boat
Take's a note
she won't surrender.
She wants to win
finds strength within.
Worriedly Waiting,
friend wishes she'd ask herself "why"
and paces the French side.
Hastily helping,
she rises a moment
to wave, before waves re-hide
He feels pride inside
Stand by the starlight,
The watch boat is tossed
Pain isn't peaceful,
enter the arena
know the cost
Their bond is a beacon; the channel was crossed.
this race isn't lost.
Shining Son.
Mum, can you see me?
Can you see what I’ve done?
Do you understand I wouldn’t,
Be here, without you mum.
Dad, are you looking?
Smoking your Player’s fags
Rubbing your chest like you
Used to, look at me, now, dad.
The rumours always abounding.
You didn’t want me around.
It’s no longer hurtfully astounding.
Some babies just aren’t planned.
All the things you did I remember.
The poverty, jealousy and the lies.
I’ve let all the malice go now.
Understand your shocked surprise.
But of course, I’ll never know.
Just exactly how you felt.
I see the holes in our carpet.
And my heart begins to melt.
I know you had dreams dad
Mum’s sewing could’ve been more.
You both stuck it out together.
Blooded plasters, on festering sores.
So, I’ve competed but never won.
I’ve tried and dreamed just like you.
I’m grateful, you had one last passion.
And created me, your shining son.
Jesus did teach us to turn the other cheek,
But never suggested we ought to be weak
In those instances of obvious wrongdoing
He sent the moneychangers gelt strewing,
And he called out the miserable hypocrite
In the strongest of language, as he saw fit.
Keeping the peace is good, I certainly agree,
But not at the expense of a bully’s spree,
Who goes about inflicting pain unchecked,
Comes the time when they must be decked.
For bullying indicates feelings of superiority
While it actually cloaks an inner inferiority.
We need to show bullies they’re not “all that,”
Sometimes it calls for knocking off their hat.
Letting them know we will be calling their bluff
When we are fed up with their hateful stuff,
Not allowing them to feign self-righteousness
As they hurtfully nose into another’s business.
It is always preferable to be meek and mild
But not when an adult acts like a spoiled child
Taking pleasure in causing others’ distresses
Probably struggling with their own sad messes
And acting like their way is the only way
While refusing to allow their victims a say!
Written December 8, 2022
Today, my homepage was deceitfully defiled
I had a visitation without any brotherly love
Her actions were similar to those of a child
Calling ME a troll, with a push and a shove
Without provocation or any hint of warning
She soiled upon my precious front stoop
Her vitriol was left for me here this morning
A pile of stinky doody is in my Poetry Soup
Her accusations were wrong, hurtfully made
Misinformed is what she said that I was
She's another minion who was easily swayed
I guess Forest was right, stupid is as stupid does
Hateful as they may be, to the eye
and ear, the elimination of words,
statues, ideas, etc., will do nothing
toward making a venom free society –
to flood with light, explaining,
though far more difficult,
more laborious (seemingly impossible
at times) is the only palatable good.
A great, natural builder, artist,
builds his (his/hers – God I hate this,
Politically Correct) foundation using
those odd, irregular stones as well as the
seeming, symmetrically perfect –
variations, outliers are a blessing,
and not a Cosmic Blemish –
the fault, if any to be laid, is when using
ourselves, needlessly, hurtfully -- making
arrow-heads of the pen's of Valentines...
Taking free-thought away from children
will only do away with individuality,
leaving soulless shells instead --
not cleansed human beings, ready for
fresh priming; but globs of rancid, detergent
filled sponges -- the soppy, dead remains,
of what were once, thriving, healthy, alive
brains...
gone any true worthfulness, and sense
of sacred being....
So lovely,
Yet, they vanish stealthily,
Truly, hurtfully.
Excuses are made,
Your heart weeps in rhe shade,
A raid on you, made.
So gullible,you,
Thought you had a good friend, too,
You, alone, not two.
7/2/2021
Hoping helps horribly
the hoping happens hopefully
the hoping hesitates hastily
the helpful hope hoping helps has hurriedly
Holds hoping handles hurtfully
the hoping heartens happily
6/9/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2021©
The heart broken/b> handles hurtfully hopelessly~
4/27/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021
Hope happily
horribly the hideous heart hopes
beating hope
the heavy housings hope hurtfully beating hope
the humble hope hopefully hopes bleeding hope
10/15/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2020
How hard help hits hatefully
Holding huge help hires hurtfully
8/14/20
written words by James Edward Lee Sr. ©2020
~~The Covid Grinch~~
"My daughter, please, stop crying," I said.
Standing before her favorite store.
The sign most hurtfully read:
"Because of fear....our business is dead'
She stood in the wintry moonlight,
A child's tears melting the snow.
"Where can I see Santa Clause, now?
I realized the Covid Grinch, stole our
Holiday, and how!
But, no hope was not at all lost!
I wanted her to have a wonderful memory.
We were lucky we had a large, artificial tree with lights,
Pulling in to the driveway was heavenly.
In our absence, my husband had set up the tree
Including her beloved, Christmas ornaments!
Even the decorated fireplace was lit.
So, this great surprise was more than perfect.
No more missing Santa's lap in which she longed to sit,
We made cookies and hot cider with our feet warmed by
The amber flames of a warm fire.
Not even the fingers of the Covid Grinch could expire,
Our souls' happiness brimming with Yuletide desires!
August 9, 2020
4:30pm PST
humble hope hears hopefully
hope happens happily
happy hope helps hopefully
hope holds hastily
helpful hope handles hurriedly
hard hope hits hurtfully
humble- humble hope hears hopefully
2/27/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.2020©
It comes with a jagged dagger flashing in the moonlight!
Teeth, sharp, like a mad dog showing!
Howling with a jackal's gruff, stiff hair in the wind blowing.
To destroy honor and integrity with vicious attacks.
All endless and hurtfully, ongoing.
Humiliating any with its filthy, bloodied, toenails growing.
His path, one drawn by jealousy, and pretentious clown boyishness, a strolling.
Beware this jackal wearing the face of Christ that's throwing....
Comments to harm any loving and truthful poet.
His harm done with evil-spiteful, vicious knowing.
February 19, 2020
3pm PST
** never wrote a Dark poem before like this**
IN HONOR OF ALL DECENT POETS HERE WHO BEAR
THE SCARS OF THE JACKAL, BUT SURVIVED!!!!
I should have let it go,
theunkind words they spoke
the phrases unjustly, hurtfully said
but you know me...
My mind thinks and mulls the words
over and over again.
They churn like whipped shakes and malts
until they begin to overflow.
Before realized, they spill over
onto counter tops and make a mess.
Cleanup doesn't serve me well
as the disliked stickiness is spread
Soon, everyone around sees and knows
that thing they said -
I should have let it go,
I knock back whiskey, you’re taken away
No more pounding hate games and left for dead
Despicable games you hurtfully play
Withdrawn, forbidden, bruised – discarded
At last truth uncovered, my life to keep
I knock back whiskey, you’re taken away
Realization dawns, head reels pulse slows – weep
Despicable games you hurtfully play
Spewing fountains a gargoyle, I fall asleep
No more pounding hate games and left for dead
Losing him, unknown future lies ahead
Withdrawn, forbidden, bruised – discarded
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