dear tall child,
your bones probably don't fit your frame yet;
they shift awkwardly,
and your spine hunches and slopes.
your hands are likely to be dry and grimy,
legs speckled with ant bites
that sting like fire.
spending those arid days snatching lizards off the hot terracotta wall,
next to the withered rose garden belonging to your shouting mother.
unfortunately for you,
the shouting will never stop;
your mother will bleed her vocal chords raw
trying to scare out your soul to place of her own.
there will be so much hardship,
but you will learn so so much.
so much.
to drown the world out,
just think about horses.
she will see you as strange
no matter what you do
just hop in the saddle
tighten the reins, grip the mane,
put your filthy Velcro sneakers into the stirrups,
and think about horses.
you will be a weird girl, it will hurt.
but suffering is just suffering,
and voices are just words.
you will become a strange young man, dear cowboy-
but you will always be that tall child.
a dear,
dear tall child
Categories:
jesse, child abuse, childhood, gender,
Form: Free verse
Jesse James
Albia Iowa’s claim to fame
remembering when the bank got held up
they celebrate annual Jesse James Day
in honor of the outlaw who did not hurt people
Categories:
jesse, history,
Form: Free verse
Jesse Duarte
Muslim South African
Dead just before age 68
Best known as antiracism fighter
Along with Mandela
That generation is dead, it's over
Self-serving "ANC activists & comrades" remain
To steal and blame (minorities)
II
Jesse was eloquent; loyal leader & 'spokesman'
"Diminutive woman;" Dedicated warrior
Never about herself
She died today
Will be buried today
Now, her religion shows
Categories:
jesse, africa, appreciation,
Form: Bio
Secret mysteries
open before us in the light of the Lord.
The flame of which does not burn but warms as the
sun’s morning rays. This flame penetrates the consciousness of man,
giving him a soul. Looking inward, the soul then answers this Divine call
of Love and becoming self-aware leaves behind egotism and conceit.
The Soul’s gaze reaches outward, opening to the beauty and
the truth of the Light.
It now understands
the Guiding Word
and Supreme
Harmony of
Heaven.
Joy found in her journey of life becomes
a collective symphony triumphantly singing a celebration
of life's journey in the tree of Jesse.
Categories:
jesse, color, dedication, devotion, green,
Form: Shape
Imagine my surprise,
When David killed the bear!
I couldn't believe my eyes,
When the lion lay there!
Little did I know then,
God trained him for a fight.
A fight he could not win,
Fighting the Giant's fight.
Sent to the battle line,
His brothers' to report.
He heard the troll's malign,
And purposed to retort.
He'll fight God's way today,
His honor to uphold,
Running into the fray,
Killing the one who trolled.
Imagine my surprise,
The eighth and youngest son!
God shepherded his rise,
The Giant is undone!
Did not see this coming,
All of us scoffed at him.
Our lack of faith numbing,
Our view of God was dim.
My son sought God's glory,
Never fought for his own.
A shepherd boy's story,
Leading to Israel's throne.
The Lord is my Shepherd,
He trains me for a fight,
My heart for Him is spurred,
When faith transforms my sight.
Categories:
jesse, bible, conflict, faith, spiritual,
Form: Rhyme
Jesse rode with Quantrill as did his brother Frank
They were soldiers of the southland before they robbed a bank
Quantrill was a hero to the southern rebels when
He sort of lost control of his senses and his men
His troop was made of hotheads who completely ran amuck
And anyone who crossed them were simply out of luck
They terrorized the boundaries collecting their supplies
Unmindful of the damage, death and neighbor cries
Were they ever here in St. Joe, the rumors say they were
But that’s not been documented and old memories were a blur
There was a barn just south of Bartlett we heard about when young
That really peaked imaginations – kept old Quantrill on our tongue
Did Frank and Jesse go there, did they hide what they had taken
To supply our rebel bushwhackers or were we all mistaken
You know it really doesn’t matter if it was or if it wasn’t
It’s in the mind of dreamers and that my friend just does it
Categories:
jesse, memory,
Form: Rhyme
Two empty coffins...with unknown names
Saved for the unfortunates...of Jesse James
Made for the men, they say...Jesse killed
Only a matter of time, they'll both...be filled
An Epitaph To Make Me Laugh Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Jesse Rowe
4-22-2019
Categories:
jesse, humorous,
Form: Epitaph
Jesse F. Hunnicutt
1867-1908
They placed me near the gate, there,
My tall tombstone rising above all the others;
All were friends and neighbors way back when,
We Worked and worshipped together, in the presence
Of our Lord creator, and savior most wondrous.
They are all dead now, but are alive evermore in his grace.
Step inside this dead world, my friends.
Come closer, over here; Me and May are soundly sleeping
Here waiting, in the walnut shadows,
Down, way down here, sleeping the dreams of life and love,
Down, way down here…waiting…
Inside this heaping bed of rotting bones,
Dancing gaily in still death, as we once did,
Years ago, alive and alone,
Hidden deeply in the orange fields,
We touched our baptism with water, and fire!
And saw our god in the clouds that day.
Categories:
jesse, faith,
Form: Epitaph
Holy fire come
I surrender all
Thy Kingdom Come
we gather one and all
Here Down Under
On your hills and beaches
Holy Fire roar
Holy Spirit teach us
Glory to the One
Who gathered all the nations
Where can we run
For true salvation
Here Down Under
God is moving strong
Spirit-led prayer
In Australia leads us Home
Singing out to God
Who sent us His Only Begotten Son
Now, too, His Spirit
Fire, Holy FIRE, You're the Only One
"You have no rival; You have no equal
Now and forever LORD you reign
What a wonderful name it is,
The Name of Jesus Christ my King."
(Dedicated to the soulful praise and Christian music of Hillsong, and the faithful preaching of Brian and Bobbi Houston. This Church saved my sister in Cape Town, for which I am ever grateful).
Categories:
jesse, appreciation, bible, fire, gospel,
Form: Lyric
Jesse was a common man
he never made a lot of money
he had a troubled marriage.
His wife left him for another man
he never saw his kids again.
Although he never wrote a book
he read hundreds of them
trying to solve riddles in his life.
But Jesse had a lisp, you see,
and others liked to laugh.
After he died last week
the undertaker poured his ashes
over the edge of an ocean cliff.
He liked to watch eagles dive
and carry away big fish.
Jesse was a common man
as are we whose whole is
greater than our parts.
But Jesse had a lisp, you see,
and others liked to laugh.
Donal Mahoney
Categories:
jesse, rude,
Form: Blank verse
Jesse Lasky met Boris Spasky
Musket musk-catty spider husky
Lasky's knight cooked Spasky's rook
Spasky's queen is spider's spook
Bishop stomped heyho where is Cash key ?
Categories:
jesse, fun,
Form: Limerick
Jesse Forbes
1893 – 1911
Black Canyon.
Now, there was a place to be!
It is true I was born a brute in a Quaker Town.
Born a bad-tempered brute of a boy
In the two-room digs on Bailey Street and Comstock..
My father fathered two other families,
Unbeknownst to his wife..
And I was the first one disowned.
But my father was a great believer,
And I loved the man like a fool.
I took up the milkin’ business at fourteen,
And made my morning way from Orange Drive down to Penn Street.
Delivering the dozens of clinking milk bottles.
Delivering the dozens of morning salutations,
To neighbors and friends in the glad and dismal days.
I had but one romantic interlude in my short stay,
Just one futile attempt at Carpe Diem.
But was left slapped and standing by a disheveled Ethel Hurst
There in the dark shade of Black Canyon
That inauspicious August day in 1910.
Ethel Hurst did not accept the entreaties of a 17 year old brute.
Did not accept my wild stares
Or my insanely puckered lips.
It was to my surprise that I died.
Died so young and so unready.
Still desiring the perfumed kisses of Ethel Hurst,
Still desiring her heart-quenching embraces,
There, in the dark shade of Black Canyon.
Categories:
jesse, death,
Form: Epitaph
** This poem is in memory of Jesse Lewis. Jesse was a six-year old boy who died in the Sandy Hook Shooting. Jesse died while leading the other children to safety.
He rides to the place of glory.
He rides to the place of the Lord.
Jessie will sometimes act like the pint-sized Scrooge to make the angels and people laugh and smile.
He had a lot of courage and love inside of him.
Now he will go horseback riding.
Helping people ride into the gates of heaven.
Categories:
jesse, life, people, people,
Form: I do not know?
Well they done took away ma pension
whilst I waren’t payin no tention.
Never thought thet thar could happen,
Seems ma face they keep a slappin'.
Ah trusted all them folk thet said ah could,
ah took their word like they sed ah should,
but now ah see they jest a bunch a thieves,
Take all ya got and knock ya to yer knees.
Use ta was be you could tell a liar,
plain’s ya could the town crier,
Now they got sneakier ways,
from lots a practice these days.
Them banks and the government’s in cahoots.
Reckon they standin’ in each others boots.
Whisht ah’d a knowed they wuz gonna play those games
Ah’d a set much lower aims.. maybe like …Jesse James.
Done asked a lawyer onced bout business and ethics.
He laughed and said “Bob, business and ethics don’t mix!”
Never heered anybody say that right out loud…
Still laughin’ at me,.. he walked away proud.
Yep, maybe I’d a set much lower aims…
Reckon I’d a understood… Jesse James.
Categories:
jesse, business, cowboy-western, business,
Form: Couplet
Ooze be reality upon the page
Betwixt the courtship of pen and paper
Reveries aid in sustaining spare sage
Refrain he must from such foolish capers
As cyclical evidence he distributes
Yearning to establish a solid voice
Such fervent vocals shan't be silenced mute
Quite a conscious, yet such a wise choice
Devil's dearest a portrayal inclined
Gambling upon his impending death wish
Deeming his existence as asinine
Within spooky graveyards he shall relish
Categories:
jesse, imagination,
Form: Sonnet
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