Long Abhorred Poems
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I was a famous conductor, and performing beautiful music was my joy,
As diamond sunshine, to pervade darkness, finds any means to employ.
Music had long been a part of me, in that I sang long before conducting,
Like the famed adult bluebird choirs, lead the songs they are instructing.
My much loved work kept me busy. Still, I loved every precious moment,
As wild, crazy, summer colors dash afar, with no cries of encroachment.
But I had a personal favorite song, which I loved more than any other,
As anyone recalling their great loves, find their thoughts turn to mother!
This song had held special meaning for me, for what felt like long ages,
And I never tired of hearing it, as blooms will never have enough vases.
I thought of the melody as 'my song,' for in my heart, it was mine alone,
Like multicolored autumn leaves flying, when green summer is disowned.
It was then marigold days of sultry July, and dark purple martins soared,
Like finding you have heartfelt passion, for someone you once abhorred.
I had just entered a restaurant, when I heard that stirring song playing,
Like chattering, mischievous monkeys, swing forever in treetops, saying.
Then like always, I was transported, back down nostalgic memory lane,
Just as orange birds recur every springtime, singing the melodies again.
As I was returning home that evening, the full moon was in the treetops,
Whispering with those flashing stars, as a part of the nightly peace talks.
As I went up the front porch steps, the fragrance of lilacs was tangible,
As on the streets of scarlet summer, where wild blooms are fashionable!
The moment I entered my house, my heart song began its playing again,
As a sultry summer that's come lately, only to meet the vivid fall refrain.
Though I was enraptured by extravagant music, and music was my life,
Still, it was odd that it could play itself, the moment this person arrived!
It seemed that the song I'd loved so long, had come to love me as well,
And had determined to follow me always, like fragrances casting spells.
My heart song is still pursuing, through mellow days and jasmine nights,
As owl stares at a moon of rapture, and bees are off on honeyed flights.
That song of precious sweet memories, greets me every room of my life,
Like a red rose that blooms for you only, even where wild blooms are rife!
It was now growing dark as the sun was going down
When a stranger rode into Soup Creek, a frontier town
No one could see his face, he was all dressed in black
An old boy was heard to say "I think he's come back".
He took his horse to the stable, then went to the boarding house
Before he went in looked across the street, to the town jailhouse
There was a familiar figure sat outside, in a rocking chair
Cradling a Winchester and the stranger, felt his cold stare.
He'd returned after all these years; he had something to prove
And just after a few days back in town, he would make his move
But Sheriff Koplin is no fool and he had planned up far ahead
And had formed a posse whilst the stranger slept in his bed.
Three fiesty girls from the saloon, Jan and Jenna, Tania too
And a Texas ranger called David who was just passing through
With gambler Milton who was deadly, with a colt forty five
And Tom the undertaker who looked more dead than alive.
It was the evening of the showdown; the stranger came out of the saloon
The sun was now setting but the tension had been building up since noon
From his holster he withdrew his pistol and then fired shots up into the air
The stranger was not one for living a peaceful life and he just didn't care.
Sheriff Koplin approached him and said "Hand over your gun"
And the stranger replied "Lighten up man, I'm just having fun"
The stranger was laughing now and looking down at his feet
The townsfolk were nervous and had disappeared off the street.
Then behind the stranger came a shout in a loud Texas drawl
It was Jenna disguised as an old woman, covered with a shawl
"You heard the sheriff " she shouted, "Put your gun on the ground"
The air was now thick with tension and you couldn't hear a sound.
Then from nowhere the rest of the posse appeared pistols in hand
They abhorred bullies and conflict and were prepared to make a stand
The stranger realised he couldn't win and threw his gun down
Walked to the livery stable to get his horse, and rode out of town.
The drama was now over but it could have gone either way
Sheriff Koplin and his posse restored peace, and had won the day
It was now days end in Soup Creek in that peaceful frontier town
All you could hear were chirping crickets as the sun was going down.
Written on 20th May 2022.
For a month Laurie mulled and brooded,
even tried to think it wasn’t her fault,
if Stan had just told her the things he did
maybe she wouldn’t have left him at all,
but such thoughts were nothing but a stall.
The fault lay entirely on her end,
she’d failed to even try to comprehend.
But finally she summoned her courage
and went down to his small apartment,
she meant to explains the things she did,
but when he answered and she caught his scent
to his lips her own instantly went,
Stan was surprised, but her lust was strong,
so like most men, he just went along.
It wasn’t until after, lying in bed,
rhat the first tears came to her eyes,
He said nothing, just gently stroke her head,
didn’t have to ask what was on her mind,
After several long minutes she cried:
“I now understand why you were hurting,
But it’s too late, I screwed up everything.”
He tried to hug her close in his arms,
but she struggled, pulled herself away,
said,”I’ve tasted of other men’s charms,
and there is nothing that I can say,
what I’ve done deserves only your hate.
there’s no way to go back to what we were then,
for what I did, I can’t be forgiven.”
Stan struggled and said,”So tonight was just you
trying to give me a pleasant ‘so long?’
I don’t buy that, because if it were true,
you wouldn’t be feeling the pain this strong,
would not want forgiveness for your wrong.
You want to still love me, but don’t know how,
unsure if you’ll love the man I am now.”
The words struck her hard, and she stammered,
he just put a soft hand to her lips.
“There is no need to get so bothered,
I think that there’s a solution to this,
I have an idea and this is it:
If some love remains, come back tomorrow,
we’ll take this by the day, and see how it goes.”
Laurie didn’t think that this plan could work,
but she found herself each night coming back,
she didn’t know how he didn’t feel hurt
at the compassion she had lacked,
but every night they’d end up in the sack.
Before long she’d left her apartment,
in fact she never left Stan’s bed again.
Wasn’t long before they called the lawyers,
said they weren’t needed anymore,
Laurie looked back on what they were
and saw glimpses of what was in store,
taking on the demons they abhorred.
Stan wasn’t the same, that much was true,
but no longer was she a cowardly youth…
You dig into my skin with your claws of distrustful disdain
Why don’t you welcome the Healing rain?
I promise that it will wash away the troublesome pain
That bullies you to the extreme – try, darling, try to remain sane,
Yet, I still feel for you…I have been driven insane
By the fact that I have been left behind…
I was that one insecure, sad child…
Don’t give me the cold shoulder…please don’t hurt me…I know I am not your kind
I am not your kind…but I am kind and mild…
I was once that dense, wild, immature child, carelessly doing whatever he wanted to do…
Until I met you…out of the blue, I knew you were lost and alone too…
How did I know you were coming down with the love flu?
We both wanted love to feel right…we wanted to be accepted…we wanted to be embraced with one-of-a-kind affection…
The passions, pounding pleasurably into our mind’s tranquil eye…we didn’t know our foolishness was another form of corruption…
Say goodbye to bliss that once said its vows to me...my heart is throbbing with endless fright...
Strife is knitting in every verse…I lost my train of thought, feeling worthless, but that’s nothing new…
My soul is crying out for your attention…there’s a hole in my contrite heart; though shame embraced me long ago, I’m still willing to search around for your other shoe…
Let’s face it – you're just another abominable sin, making me feel vulnerable and downcast…are you a sheep in wolf’s clothing? The truth is becoming black and white…
You were my black long hearse,
Running me over with your cold-blooded ignorance…
No one or anything in this wretched world ever felt much worse…baleful dilemmas start to rehearse (double doubts and abhorred avarice; but, nevertheless – there’s more grand land to explore)
I was twirling around in my sugar-coated trance…
I caught a glimpse at you, daydreaming relentlessly…you are a graceful gift, not a corrupt curse (that sends guilt into my numbed noggin… I’m no longer kissing the abyss; in other words, the sentiments of hopelessness doesn’t intimidate me anymore)
I am cursed...a heart like mine is broken...dark angel, sorrow is not the answer...so rehearse...our exquisite love oath…we welcome the halo-shaped sun…the dazzling, astonishing auras, surrounding your body, deflating and inflating like a kid’s red balloon…
The age-old dream is a nightmare,
that has haunted us far too long,
still it lures in so many souls
with the sweetness of its song.
But beyond the simple melody
a darkness quickly appears,
those who preach of utopia
are the ones we should most fear.
It all starts out pleasant enough,
they want to build the perfect world,
with peace, love, and prosperity,
for every single boy and girl.
But on what defines perfection,
the can never truly agree,
tell them it’s abstract idea,
and they scream out ‘heresy!’
Not that this will stop the push,
they’re convinced that they’re right,
and any who would oppose them,
are an evil and a blight.
First it’s campaigns to convince
that they hold the greatest truth,
then to the schools for targeting
the dumb, impressionable youth.
They think that this will do the job,
but too many reject and dismiss,
then comes all the social pressure,
go along or you’re not ‘with it.’
And when even that doesn’t prevail,
they always turn to government,
use law to force you to agree,
or face a long imprisonment.
This becomes the tipping point,
since government is always force,
yet convinced they’ll bring perfection,
they’ll do what was once abhorred.
Some penalties put you in camps,
doomed to a miserable fate,
no longer do you just ‘disagree,’
you’re now enemy of the state.
It does not take much to see this,
such an endless, brutal trend,
Hitler’s ‘perfect’ Aryan Reich
sent ten million to their end.
And all those workers ‘paradises,’
their purges and class enemies,
Sent a hundred million folk to death,
to build their ‘ideal’ societies.
Even down on the smaller scale,
the same result you will find,
Jamestown, Heaven’s Gate, and Waco;
where people were burned alive.
How many would still be with us,
how many fewer would be dead,
if we could take utopia
and drive it clear out of our heads?
In fact the very word itself,
if you look back on history,
literally translates as ‘no place,’
in the original Greek.
As in no place can ever exist
where mankind lives perfect,
Better is the best we can do
without leaving people wrecked.
Best we keep shouting this truth out
before we all tumble and fall,
We must fear, fear utopia,
or else it will kill us all.
I’ve often heard you say these days
that your skin is keeping you down,
that others look at it and try
to drive your dreams deep in the ground.
As if ‘The Man’ was right out there,
scheming against skin-tones abhorred,
even though ‘The Man’ was last seen
way back in nineteen sixty-four.
You think this shouting and whingeing
will somehow make a difference,
then you ascribe to racism
what’s explained by pure indifference.
Nobody’s out to keep you down,
and I think it’s time we be fair,
they don’t want to help or hurt you,
the truth is they just don’t care.
They have no time to plan or scheme
when everything is said and told,
they’re busy trying to survive
in a world frightful and cold.
Ninety percent of their own thoughts
are ever-focused on themselves,
it’s the same for every human,
it’s the story that we all tell.
We honestly don’t have the time
to think much on other's lives,
this self-interest is a good thing,
otherwise we’d not survive.
They don’t scheme to oppress you,
their minds don’t even go there,
it’s too much struggle to go plot,
the truth is they just don’t care.
Perhaps you should stop and look at
the content of their own thoughts,
I bet most of it is about yourself,
that is just humanity’s lot.
Does that mean you despise all those
that you happen to pass on the street?
Of course not, it just means that they
play no part in your daily beat.
Do you waste time thinking of how
you can hurt them for their skin?
Or do you just ignore them all
to focus on you and your kin?
If you’re not taking lots of time
to plot how to bring them despair,
then what makes you think that they will?
Like you, they do not really care.
If your mind's craving excuses
for a potential yet unmet,
then trying to blame another,
is an old, time-tested bet.
But smearing people in that way
will just retard your own mind’s growth,
the true problems lay deep within,
that is what the wisest know.
But shouting names is so easy,
and gives a person false-esteem,
you believe you look heroic,
but we see hateful and mean.
Blame lighter folks, or darker ones,
but it won’t get you anywhere,
you’ll only be hurting yourself…
but luckily, we won’t care.
THE DOWNFALL OF KING SOLOMON
Great King Solomon, wisest of the rulers of Israel,
The favored son of King David, who was beloved of our God,
Did fall from grace in his old age,
Though God suffered him for years.
He warned him and He warned him,
That his actions would bring tears.
Solomon's wealth and power,
Were known both far and wide,
And kings from other countries,
Brought their daughters for his brides.
But God said,"Solomon be wise,
Send them away from you,
For they are vile before My eyes,
And all their daughters too.
If you accept them in My son,
Their sins will be on you."
But Solomon paid the Lord no mind,
He welcomed those kings in,
Made pacts, alliances and deals,
Ignoring grievous sins,
Committed by these kings and queens,
Acts that God abhorred,
And took unto him concubines,
And wives before the Lord.
Women that God told him,
Were unclean before His eyes,
And that they'd bring their gods with them,
So strong would be their ties,
That Israel would follow them,
And he would fall from grace,
And that's just how it happened,
That Solomon lost face.
Seven hundred took he them,
And even their gods too.
He let them build their temples,
And went in with them too.
His heart was turned away from God,
By the company he kept.
He followed other gods with them,
And God, Himself, wept.
That's what's happening here today,
They're coming here in droves,
Fleeing from oppression,
That their way of life enclosed.
They say our God offends them,
And we shouldn't honor Him,
Well their god offends me too,
So the same is just for them.
They wish to take away from us,
The very thing they seek,
Denying us our freedoms,
Our own laws have made us weak.
We are infidels to them,
And of little consequence,
They'll change our laws and change our God,
I say it don't make sense.
We'll fall from grace like Solomon,
Lose all that we hold dear,
Our freedom gone, we'll lose our land,
Then hide and quake in fear.
1Kings 10-11
Judy Ball
WAKE UP AND SMELL THE COFFE Y'ALL!!!
IT'S THE SAME THING THAT'S HAPPENING TODAY!
I shan’t forget the SKETCH of your silhouette
I outlined your curves with charcoal of black-
Come here my love, don’t you ever fret,
for your BRITTLE bones seem ready to crack,
but I shall get your fragile soul back on track.
BEREFT you were left in the cold depressed,
IMMUTABLE, your anguish a permanent fixture-
You used to be FORMIDABLE, your pain caressed,
but yet, your existence makes a beautiful picture.
I shall read you verses of Psalms from scripture.
Your frail and TENUOUS mind full of insecurity,
DEMURELY you grimly take my loyal hands-
Living a life of fear and obscurity,
God is the only Man who understands,
so, I’ll leave you His Word on the nightstand.
You deserve an INTERLUDE not days of solitude,
moments free from atonement and stress-
Please tell me darling, if I seem to intrude,
but my love for you I shall always confess,
oh my sweetheart... I’ll never love you less.
When dark days arrive may you survive
all the things to come without warning-
If only you were grateful to be alive,
maybe your nights wouldn’t be spent mourning.
I vow to show you my touch is heartwarming.
I knew not passion before you, my dear,
I only had a heartbroken crimson stain-
I can only pray God takes away your fear,
where only happy memories remain,
a life full of righteousness, free from disdain.
When I leave tonight I’ll turn on your nightlight,
so that you may read passages from the Lord-
May His sonnets and ballads bring you sight,
and may your life never be abhorred.
Only He understands your pain with full accord.
I pray for simple things not cars or fancy rings,
I have high hopes your faith will set sail-
Trust in God and as the white dove sings,
only mercy and grace shall prevail...
take a deep breath, say a prayer and exhale.
Eight Word Challenge
John Hamilton
October 23, 2017
Wonder's Mother, Misery
Digging up the philosophical topic:
Disputing bliss as the ultimate state.
Argues that striving for worthy causes
is crucial to satisfaction.
Told as a narrative:
I settle for serenity before empathy emerges.
Fortune arrives! Freedom's apostle forsakes anguish
Gifted infinite Bliss, my solace destined deservedly
Stream of clarity meanders a universal language
Friction's absence nestles purity imperviously
Embalmed in Calm's acclaimed lake, swan flossed
Rythemical ripples push potent satisfaction
Praises recited by besotted Constancy credulous
echo honey hive hums of hexagonal exaction
Departing debaucherous City vividly abhorred
Putrid brutality writhes with tired rivalries
Beanstalk brings salvation, stem thrust forward
Garnered ease guarantees Eden's glories
Possessive Bliss demands spellbound devotion
Heaven threatened if Bliss discerns disloyalty
Clouds combine to combat empathy's erosion
Chastise my facile option of blind buoyancy
Fog's fugitives scowl at my serenity tenuous
Big top brandishing condemns complacency
Stampede creatures wet sterile to spectacle
Aloof cautions, storm's rampage prophesied
Thunder's scorn in boisterous cloud growls,
" Are your horizons devoid of curiousity?"
Lightning despises consolation Bliss allows
" Ventures usher insight, mishaps carve tenacity. "
My plaintive protest, " Bliss gives reality reprieve."
Vehement gust howls, " Glassy serenity smothers"
Truth edits template, discards denial' s dry leaves
" Necessary Misery is Wonder's Mother."
"Wonder's discoveries honour researchers who develop them
Trials and triumph craft tapestry immaculately woven
Showcased esteem denies distinction endless spectrum
Taunting tranquility extends pledges inevitably broken."
Narcotic Bliss persuades with privilege of inaction
Compassion scaffolds resilience duly collected
Pragmatic rain alerts to a pertinent maxim
Intrigue's face created by Misery's descendant
July 2020
The dawn spoke her name like a silken secret
carried carefree by the tradewinds of lust and larceny
imported from the traderoutes of paradise and pandemonium,
sequined with violet venom she venerates the virtue of volition
her love is unlawful, unequalled in unrest, righteous in conquest,
tender in temptation, torrid your surrender, her beauty a will bender,
Queen of Empire Passion, warrior unknown to submission
her kingdom was not inherited, glory and throne ungifted,
the treasures, stables and territories, battles and crown all won,
rich in intellect, endowed with rare resources, affluent in original passion
bejeweled in natural beauty, she bewitches beasts and men alike,
Poets pen her preciously as Woman Total, Priests implore her pardon,
male servants pander to her anger and ardor, satisfaction she commands,
Sisterhood the symbol and soul of her mission,
I was just a man, a wanderer wading through her reign,
from the unsubdued North I came, a curious traveler with ancient name,
my tribe unfamiliar, underestimated, a Chieftain of steady pulse,
tresspassing towards her roots my aim was direct knowledge of her
woman of renown cunning and learning, woman of exotic ability,
seeking teaching and romance, though I would not be her Subject or victim,
this she knew, this she abhorred, a challenge to her dominance,
I agreed to meet her alone in the open morning of war,
in an abeyounce of gliding fire she comes riding out of the sun
regalia of black roses against red tears flying above her shoulder,
our horses begin a battle tromp, breaths heavy with moist mania
she has leopards in her eyes
poinsettias and death's palms painted on thighs,
scalps of exlovers and enemies slung on sadle
we acknowledge one another with ritual yell
I exclaim, Warrior Poetess, she screams Poet Warrior!
dismounting with mutual vigor our combat erupts
cutting my cheek with her blade's lip
kicking me in the ribs
I clinch her collared throat
and heel trip us to the ground
she snarls, I growl,
a glimpse of rescue in eachother's eyes -
J.A.B.