Listen...
The night seems paused,
Like the hunter downwind its happless prey;
A silence crouched in a quiet.
It lend to itself a stealth that in these shadows lay,
We may be better off to follow its lead.
Let us duck beyond the reed,
Let the gentle brook bicker over us,
And lend our tongues to monastic solitudes,
And vows of silence,
And speak not till nature finds herself
A newer cause,
Or the dawn vanquishes the need.
And the cock crows,
Midst the hollow stems and lovage weed.
Ah, the life of a cut-purse—
Ere such audition e'er dreamt the need rehearse.
"Life accompanies error,"
And we are full of its merry bliss
How ere it come to this?
A frog atop its lily
Staring at us, so silly.
By so late an hour,
Clowns before rogues—
"And all wet."
The clever night has made us its jest
Let us retreat from fen to den:
A warm hearth and dry clothes,
And conceal our conciet,
For ere the wind of rumor blows
And give nock to doors and wake windows,
Inviting eyes to spy our predicament,
And see where our path lent tself
To such wasteful end
better ways to heal
therapeutic poetry~
a dance of feelings
spoken verse trending
curbs obsessive impulses~
when we meditate
breathe in and speak out
demolish your obsessions~
share and overcome
His miser boss
Went out for a toss
When the MD knocked his door.
He plummeted down
To save his crown
When his senior asked for more.
His hair had grown
on his chest
On his back as well down south.
Where nested in peace
There hung two bees
His tongue got stuck in his mouth.
The doc came up
Once or twice
To run his regular tests.
His BP down,
His wife in town
He lost his killer jests.
He crossed himself
and prayed to God
His taste for wine was lost.
The honey bees
made merry cheer,
His company bore his cost.
Then one fine day
they stopped his pay,
No wife no son no home.
He saw a man
without a shawl,
All hurled and curled in snow.
With nothing to lose,
the bees long gone.
He poured his drink once more.
The only coat,
he gave in zest
To the man and settled his score.
Jest
Show me your creation,
Written down in black ink.
Let me see your darkest thoughts;
I need a place to sink.
I want a place to disappear;
There really is no escape.
If I cannot have somebody to love,
Then I will no longer fight my fate.
Love is out there somewhere to find.
All I have to do is look with open eyes,
But I am blind to anybody who would be nice,
Because of the tears I have cried, so many times.
So cut me with your truthfulness,
I want this pain to hurt.
I am no longer playing just for jest.
Put me six feet in the dirt.
(c)2024 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Maybe I need solitude
Romance requires work to do
Am I up to loving true
Is it enough to love you
Perhaps my muse is my mate
The onyx one who got away
And fills my sun with anticipate
Melted moon runs as night time sedates
Is the quest much more to digest
Than delivery of hearts sole quest
He in the east and I am in the west
Time will tell despite my jest
I'm baked
I'm baked
One toke is all it taked.
Licky butt, oh, licky butt
Lick your bum my lovely puppy
Gonna feed you a dead guppy
It's belly up
So feed it to the pup.
Jesus was a carpenter,
he worked with saw and hammer.
He pounded, banged, for 20 years,
it was an awful clamor.
Then he spent three years a'preachin',
he never had a stammer.
At last they nailed him to a cross,
nevermore to yammer.
I guess I am just a joke,
never to be taken seriously.
Gave pieces of myself out too generously.
Even though I did it cautiously,
The evidence shows it was still done dangerously.
Ive fought for the wrong ones furiously.
Trying to hold on to that memory,
now seems more like a stupid fantasy.
Does everyone think I don't have the mental capacity
to handle the truth or deserve honesty?
I don't hide awful intentions masked by chivalry.
I may have flaws, sometimes rather clumsy,
there's not much of me
Ive become somewhat shaky,
But when you're all in, so am I entirely.
I think people think I am a joke, sadly
I've learned that curiosity can come off as acting suspiciously
Being anxious or nervous can turn into a catastrophe.
Inner commentary
Acting awkwardly
Try to approach things delicately
Failed miserably.
To Be continued...
Ty Tot Ty Taw Tay Tater Tat
Ty Tid! Ty Tid!
Ty Taw Tay Tater Tat!
Jest falseless truths, absolutes POLITICAL caucus coops ?
5/16/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021
Obsession with what's
Politically Correct
Is a moron's job
I but jest a bit
I do not mean to offend
All so serious
Nothing personal
Old jokes are now new insults
I laugh at myself
They do take offence
To a bit of funnery
I won't be PC
To offend a few
Before there may be no one
Left here to offend...
Founders Profit Academy online
To which you must make a beeline
Learning anything beyond limit
Teaching everything is our remit
Join us if, about learning you are curious
You will find us, not always serious
You may think I always jest
Actually we promise you a learning fest
I sing a Mass,
a golden hymn;
The song of Psalms;
I comprehend, with my voice I verse,
I recommend apprehend jest;
Singin!
4/26/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2020
They say the old must surely die
to allow the new to thrive
a sacrifice that bears new fruit
from the ash of kernels cast
the promise for the hopeful flesh
shed with cocoons in the light
a cheerful plan without regard
for the outcome that then transpires
this is the jest by the gods
revealed as the greatest lie
when the reverse is the truth
culminating in a hollow life
what may be new is no more
put aside before it’s born
rotting while the old conspires
to pretend that life will thrive.
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