So Spake Simple Simon
Is it right and proper to treat us fools so bad?
We are but simple souls, not completely mad.
This world is but a complex place full of traps and snares
That can catch us all out if we’re taken unawares
Even Kings and courtiers find themselves caught out
So, what chance do we have who know next to nought
We are so often laughed at as we try to understand
Why it is that others have all the wealth and land
And when we ask for twopence for to buy some food
We are told we’re stupid and we’re not doing any good
And when we would go fishing so very far from sea
We practice in a bucket. It made such sense to me
And as for seeking plums for to make some jam
Whilst I was a searching, I was chased by a ram
That landed me in thistles; not pleasant you’ll agree
All that was in the larder was dry bread for my tea.
I could go on for ever about injustice and ill use
How those who care not for others avoid the truth
Who only see the world through their selfish eyes
People who are less fortunate are those they despise.
I keep hurting myself
day by day,
a quiet ache
with no visible wound.
Perhaps I need a break.
I am exhausted,
overwhelmed
by something I cannot name.
Is this a sign to stop?
Or an obstacle
before something greater?
I do not know.
They say the world is harsh
on the less fortunate.
Am I meeting it now,
face to face?
I do not know.
If we are travellers,
how many miles are left for me?
This road feels endless,
all rocks and thorns,
no roses in sight.
Will I reach the peak?
I do not know.
They say positivity attracts warmth,
yet I have stood in the sun
and still felt cold.
I keep living for a tomorrow
that has no date,
telling myself it will get better
as if repetition makes it true.
I talk more
to mask the silence,
silence that eats me daily
like a termite feeding on furniture.
I smile
to hide the quiet flood
behind my eyes.
I might break
any time soon,
but I must remain standing.
The storms grow shakier,
the winds stronger.
I ask the sky,
is this finally it?
I don’t know.
Perhaps I am lying to myself again,
whispering the same fragile promise,
like a prayer I barely believe;
Tomorrow will be better.
Yesterday's feast was most extravagant.
So much variety pleasing one and all...
Reminded many are less fortunate.
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Blessed Assurance
What a Friend
Thankful Vibes
Soulful admiration
Gratitude in Heavenly Honor
Dinner table prayers everywhere
Honored wake up among
Heart to Heart conversations
Family and Friends wholesome
Thanksgiving is beyond once a year
It is daily with a praying preserver
Enable open hearts at all dinner tables
As food are placed down
Give Thanks
Pray for those that are less fortunate everywhere, and that they get food as well
The greatest gift is one’s heart for others
Let family and friends smiles and laughter intertwine
Keep the Almighty in mine
Enjoy the Thanksgiving feast
Keep appreciation throughout at least
As you sit down to eat
Remember who made it possible being a treat
Gobble Gobble and Turkey time
Lift up every glass of whatever, click and clack in the blessing of togetherness.
Walk with the power of love
You’ll always feel the glory from up above
The absence of evil cannot access your soul
It will not be able to have any control
Your thoughts will be pure
Your heart filled with all elements of the spiritual brochure
The eyes filled with emotion of the luminescent sea
Your peace is guaranteed
A mission to cleanse humanity
From all of the immorality
The path of the veracity spirit
Will pivot the world in a fast minute
Keeping the most powerful sane
The less fortunate free of man’s inflicting pain
It truly is the miracle that we all have found
Making all of mankind heavenly bound
"Death approaches but we have no regret, when God questions us, we will stand erect”
It is only illusion
and I have no proof
that when the time arrives,
I will surely get to see His brilliant smile !
It is but a dream
that one day soon
He will stand before me and ask me,
"What have you done with your life !"
I have tried to live a life
filled with useful days
helping those less fortunate than I,
being human at every good turn.
The gray hair on my temple is a definite sign
that it won't be long before I meet my King
with folded hands and eyes lifted high,
I dare to ask, "Is there a place for me, Lord?"
It is only a spark of hope
burning bright in the kettle of my heart
I am praying that when my hourglass has sifted
through and through
God will say to me, " Sure I have a place for you! "
It's an area totally different from the rest
From the language to the people's style of dress
Kids young in age but wise with street smarts
Teens sagging and hanging out at liquor marts
Shoes on power lines showing various drug spots
Girls playing double dutch in empty car lots
Loud music blarring from a car with chrome rims
Men lifting weights in a yard turned into a gym
The smell of marijuana just as loud as cigarettes
Where colors worn communicates you with a set
Run down apartment buildings ran by slum lords
Where complaints are registered but go ignored
Businesses looking horrible due to graffiti
Where you always find bootleggers selling dvds
Everyone you meet goes by a strange nickname
Where the less fortunate ask for spare change
Well known people grew up with this background
So the hood isn't as horrible as it may sound
Its helps people to be grateful and to improvise
To get their education and to become wise
Not continuing the cycle but finding a way out
This describes hood life and what it's all about
God dispatches two angels
for each missile sent in war
to recover the souls of those perished
He then lets nature clean up the blood
with insects and bacteria
so the war-torn scenario is blessed
It’s too common a sight
men, women and children
dying in war zones
Heavens gates are swayed open
with a constant line of new souls
carried by the angels
When will the killing stop
when will the world heal
when will the angels get to break
Thank the good lord that you get to
sip your tea and watch family feud
while others are less fortunate
Let’s pray for them
perhaps the rosary
they do not deserve to die
JUST
IF I could smell you,
Would you smell like our Father;
If I look at you do I see God;
If I could taste you would you be liken manna;
If I could hold you, you'll be liken second skin;
If I could speak to you would you listen?
If I wereto dream of you would you glisten;
The more I think of you
The more I ask God if you.......
JUST
IF I could nurture you Would you recieve?
If I were to lead as God would direct Me
Could you believe?
if I were we're to pray would you pray
On your knees, praying for His grace, joy, love and peace
For the less fortunate, in Godwhom you trust;
Admist again and always
If I could speak to you your soul and heart
Would you listen in whole or part
As per your soul beats in part breath life in the the Father's heart
6/5/25
By
dedicated to
Abihail Adamilo Katarma
JUST
If I could smell you,
Would you smell like our Father?
If I look at you do I see God?
If I could taste you would you be liken manna
If I could hold you would you be my second skin
If I could speak to you would you listen?
If I were to dream of you would you glisten?
The more I think of you
The more I ask God if you
Just
If I could nurture you
Would you receive?
It I were to lead as God would direct me
Could you believe?
If I were to pray for you would you stay
On your knees praying for His grace, joy, love and peace
For those less fortunate, in God whom you trust
If I could speak to you would you listen?
If I were to dream of you would you glisten?
The more I think of you
The more I ask God if you
Just
6/5/25
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2025©
I don't know any happy
super rich people -- a
friend of wealth once
told me: "See all this,
a huge property and
home, dripping gold
gilt, "I have nothing...."
I thought, myself spared
leaving, as I gave my vehicle
the usual primer finessing of
the gas pedal, before it would
prayerfully start --
Of course, having spent much
of my life with those suffering, I
have dried many an impoverished
tear, and know no joyful hungered
belly --
I often conclude, the best of my
blessings found somewhere between
two hells -- bellow the peak of
Supreme Religious Zealots, just above
The Valley of Heretics -- best years
recalled, are middle-age....
God's grace and love independent
of experience or knowledge --
Having abundance is opportunity
to better the lives of less fortunate
others....
A midnight full of potential that lets me down without notice.
I've touched eternity without admission in hopes of a reprieve from a destiny that eluded me.
A shade of blue that masks suicide from within.
Love couldn't save her from herself. Love won't save me.
I purchased a romance that was out of my price range.
Destiny as it seems holds a grudge against those less fortunate.
Such a fate we all share, yes, every single one.
Set in stone and sealed, awaiting Kingdom Come.
However you may enter, each differential circumstance, the difference made is none.
Hands of a ticking clock strike the hour, declaring that time Living here will have reached its end, and our final day be done.
Resting besides those unfortunate less fortunate souls.
Riches remain within rich pockets of inheriting soles, unlike others whose feet are bare and are cold, stand firm on the earth you now lay beneath.
Families of both either benefit or wealth, share puffy eyes and salty tears as they heavily weep, the same sadness and the same feelings of heart-aching grief.
Blood bled and bleeding red, layering cuts skin deep, choosing one's self-choices, and ranking bestowed upon by society, mean nothing once we sleep.
To Kingdom Come, shall our destination be ironclad, placing our final sitting seat.
Opposite living and separated by morality.
Yet each for a loved one is waiting to reunite with, and again cross paths they will meet.
the avant-garde clan considered themselves intelligentsia
devoted to intellectual and cultural pursuits
wealthy?
yes.
intelligent? In some ways
but not intelligentsia.
true intelligentsia are illuminati.
advocates for social reforms
concerned for the less fortunate
builders, creators, endowers,
of hospitals and social services
this avant-garde clan was snobbish
felt they were better than most others
looked down at the peons
they lacked empathy, compassion and social consciousness
a friend told me that she thought illuminati means…
to sell your soul to the devil.
illuminati and intelligentsia are similar in meaning
these creeps possibly had sold their souls to the devil
their words were
me, me, me
I, I, I
not we we we
Teaching is a noble profession
But, given less regard on golden opportunities
I saw their plight of sacrifices
One example, teacher in remote places
Where servicing education to less fortunate ones
I saw teachers start hiking on a Sunday morning
And arrive at the place at evening
They have to go to the ordeal of cliff hanging bridge
Flowing river and rocky rough road and too many stops in between
They are stay-in teacher for the whole week or even more
Only few teacher survive the ordeal
Many quit and gone abroad for greener pasture
Some change places and practice in private school
Those who survive the ordeal remain skeptical
But because they love their profession and the children
They remain true and love their profession by heart
I wonder what the government can do to alleviate the situation
I wonder where our taxes go, where the resources went
I wait God to intervene my government and raise good leaders
To address many social issues that concern people and its progress.
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