Lesion Poems

Almighty God’s Son

He visited Simon's mother-in-law, who had a fever.
Did he do so because she was kin of his disciple?
The elderly needed care. He knew this as a healer.
Wasn't their psyche more than their physique what made them ill?

A lesion in reason and logic rots the mind, like rust.
Depression, delirium, dementia, and rifts in moods
Loss of autonomy, grief, loneliness, and lack of trust
Optimism fades like a waning moon, and pessimism broods.

He knew these puddled muddles. Was he a psychoanalyst?
How was he able to read each mind like a telepath?
Wasn't he, for-bye, a universal philanthropist?
Was he not the zenith of extraterrestrial math?

Innocence, like crystal clear streams, flooded from his person.
Wasn't he, after all, the Almighty God's precious son?

A little muse on our myopic views

“Somewhere Ages and ages hence”
Past all attempts towards defence 
Of our doings we begin to see
For both our eyes, we did not see

A little is often taken for too much 
That we can’t but be imbeciles as such 
Is a sore lesion to life’s beauty
Seldom do we see sense as duty

We think we know while we do not 
Immured we live in our cosy cot
This is all life has, thinks the simple mind
Indolent to seek a superior find

FORGIVENESS

A poison casted in the wind 
leaves a scar in your heart, hard of healing, 
but keeping it deep inside you for long 
makes the air that you breath suffocating.

A wounding blow on your skin
leaves a lesion that may heal for too long,
but thinking of it everyday 
adds a salt to the pain that you suffer.

For, a grudge that you keep 
buries your happiness to the deep, 
where your memory adds a salt to your pain;
You'll be wasting your time without gain.

For, hating only begets hate,
and the time you wake up, it's too late;
So, better find a way to forgive,
and sound sleep becomes part of your treat.

5th place 
Forgiveness poetry contest

Protesting 2

 
Protesting 2
Miracle Man
November 4, 2023

Protesting, has always been a popular endeavor,
winner is the mouth that runs the longest.
Many join the crowd for anything whatsoever,
the winner is the one whose lungs are strongest.

No one should ever give in to mass cohesion,
when it takes the voices of many to make a point.
Many times protests result in some bodily lesion,
all because whiners had their noses out of joint.

Blue Jays

The chirps of blue jays fill my garden,
The colors, grace and flights keep me smitten,
They are not like peacocks of the east or the parrots of amazon,
But who cares, beauty is my inner perception.

The constant food search of birds gives me a good lesion,
Even if you try hard but don’t succeed makes you a winner,
The search for straw and hay to make their nest makes my day,
Anticipation of their nest with chicks keep my heart fluttering away.

I watch my blue jay picking a cherry from the big cherry tree,
Enjoying the fruit while spending whole lot of time to get the seed out and away,
The fruits of labor make us happy after difficult work day,
Enjoying the good and discarding the bad ought to be the norm of the day.

Einstein said look deep into the nature then you will understand everything better,
Nature engulfs us like air, we usually ignore it,
Just take a rose bud, watch its beauty and intricate patterns,
Rejuvenate your mind with thoughts and wisdom of creation.

Planting Garden Platoons

25 people in a neighbourhood, could really
Impact the area for good' if ten 
Committed gardeners keen; could, gave advice to
Others, say a minimum of fifteen?  All within
A half-mile square.  Gardens on a minimum
Also fifty feet square! To plant some fruit trees
And beds of veg? Rows of corn beside the
Shed to allow a beekeeper, for pollination
It would feed that group; could inspire a 
Nation? On large village greens, would what be sown? I can
See  possibilities
Almost endless on the growing  I say a healthy initiative what say 
You?
Could it be aided? Would the government help too?
That might mend
Some fences? and cause cohesion
With some in politics who aren’t just like a
Damaging lesion.'


©Joe Maverick 28-7-2023

Who Do I Miss

Ferrying in the ocean of my thoughts,
I happen to see the dreams that I lost.
All alone and sailing on an endless ocean,
Deafening screams emanating from my lesion.
A moonless night that takes me away,
With nothing but pain leading the way.

I see a glint of light,
A radiant bird in flight.
I row to the end of the tunnel long,
To find me in the mirror all along.
I see the smile that faded from my lips,
I miss my merry sojourn and trips.
I miss myself most of all,
The happy version who slew the demon, and stood tall.

Time the healer at work again,
Allowing cheer and happy thoughts to ingrain.
I smile this time with a resolve strong,
Never miss me for the rest of the journey long.

Despondent Heart

Each walk along the cobblestone of night
reminds me how gladness becomes gloom
a despondent lesion from a heart,
while star-beam winks without a flare.

Here trembles a skyscape in the cold
as our affection in gradual leaks drains ,
and near winter too icy lingers,
that numb senses against it endure.

Although this moment denies to grip
one dedication tainted with a stoic end
as forward crawls our harrowing rift,
where a vanished dream lies , concealed.

For with this acceptance of loss, I pause,
yet, a  graceful beat remains in frost that glows,
to triumph over reminisces stinging, 
and stumble down like passion undone.


Ambedo Contest of Silent One
11/3/2020

Scenes From the Countryside

I love to sit under a tree
And smile as songbird sings,
He cocks his head and stares at me
And drops white slimy things.

And now behold, the leaves above
Reflect a change of season
A touch of brown, a flare of red
A dripping, sappy lesion.

Migrating robins from the north,
Their song too sweet for words,
Awake my soul; my heart calls forth,
“Shut up, you idiot birds!”

My eyes are like a dried up sponge
And soak in scenes of nature,
The tree, the brook, the winding road,
Some dead, runover creature.

And with my love, in peaceful bliss
As frequently I am
She shares with me in one sweet kiss
Her life, her soul, her phlegm.

And in a flash of brilliant truth
When fireflies start to dance,
I relive golden days of youth
(And promptly wet my pants).

Happy April Fool's Day, everybody!
Wrote this in college the night before a final 
when I should have been studying...

Black Sheep's Bullying

Hard knuckles punch young boys--
    to drill batchmates with madness
where innocence lays bloodied, done--
      from a quickening of fear, a groan of oppression:

Our children silent as unfinished dreams,
  in this wasteland of vicious apathy-
     As hunters' whims injure meek lamb
through their rabid sense of entitlement… 

Is it about a fancy of being anti-heroes
   or alleviating youth's untold pain?
 Tell us sheep, hearts of black;
for each lesion pierced, your own essence...torn apart.


-------------
For Lu Loo's NA the Day Away Contest
Submitted 9/4/2019
---------------------------
Re-post: 1 -12 lines ONLY - A Poem That Did NOT Receive
A Ribbon Placement 1-3 Contest

Memories Back Then

When i used to cry 
she says,

Why crying?

Is it because you are not a man enough,

Is it because you are too docile to be bold

In her slaping words,
I learn to smile when i cry,
To laugh even if it hurts

I hate my tears,
They makes me weak, but with this unhealing lesion 
Can you allow mr just for a moment 
Or i should burst in pain

Syncopated Soul

Syncopated Soul


Voices of reason transfixed by treason, a heart murmurs in the cold
Echoes of depletion of a heart in lesion, a face in the mirror gets old
The love escaped and ravenously raped, a tired tear turns to mold
Where darkness dwells and sorrow swells, walking with a blindfold

Life a drowning drain of a punitive pain, a wailful lost in a whirlpool
With a destiny in detain a sacrificial stain, a transposable trivial tool
Shadows of silence in deific defiance, a master and his menial mule
Where winds are rampant and emotions fragment, a cunning cruel

I’ve always known and often shown, existence of a fermented futile
As I stand alone a despondent drone, spewing words a crying crucial
Idol illusions of seditious seclusions, my thoughts begin to be fruitful
Standing at the edge of time a new paradigm, a poetic pensive pupil.



Music by Sinamore~'Frozen Mile'



Sept.11.2018
Second Chance for the Unloved Poem 
Sponsored by: Jesse Rowe 


N/A for contest

Enclosed Memo

How could I how much you mean to me

When all you are is mean to me

Tell me why I cannot see

We are just not meant to be

I know this may sound crazy

But your lifestyle makes mine feel dazy 

And I know you never mean

To try to sound so mean to me

I just want to be

Welcomed in my own family 

All I get is pushed away

Should I leave or do i stay

What's the difference when I feel astray 

Tell me now and don't delay

Make me wish for another day

Do me this one simple request

And you too can see we cannot last

Because when I am around

All you do is push me in the ground

Tell me one good reason

To feel alive without being a lesion

Give me back a feeling a normal season

Hurry now and say it true

Please don't make me lose you too

And in the end I can promises 

I will never be in the way

Just give me a reason

One reason, to stay

Blood of Sorrow

Scars in entity deplores all the time..
Gashes poultice blood of sorrow..
Tears screams all the time..
Lesion utters stream of woe..

Perpetually Reasoning Why

Perpetually Reasoning Why


Within the line of tedious thought a precarious perpetual rot
In a tensional tangled knot, an intensive intellectuals wrought

Passing sceptered seasons embroidered by relentless reasons
We look at times of turbulent treason a lacerated lashing lesion

Wise men with questions in peril of their secular seismic sessions
Renunciation of man's confessions reinventing recurring recessions

Evaluating evolved equations in reason of discursive verbal vibrations
Decisive declarations lost in humanities communal communications

A comprehensive cognition in realization of redundant recognition
We are the human condition suspended within a perpetual position.





Aug.25.2017
The Edge of Reason
Sponsored by: John Hamilton

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