Long Appealing Poems
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It’s easy sticking to routines,
Though some might find it boring,
Yet out beyond your comfort zone
Are risks not worth ignoring.
Away from home, your bed and bath,
Especially untested,
Might make you worry that you won’t,
When morning comes, feel rested.
And all the unfamiliar foods,
So different and appealing,
May be too tempting to resist
And leave your stomach reeling.
And even if you do your best
To get your things together
And pack your suitcase carefully,
There could be freaky weather.
Another possibility
Is illness when you travel
And being sick away can cause
Your spirits to unravel.
I get why people never leave
Routines which keep them going,
But sometimes stepping out may tap
A part of you worth knowing.
My Lord and my God,
Do not turn away from me;
Do not take Your Holy Spirit from me.
I have grieved You time and again,
And in full knowledge,
I have chosen the path of bitterness and wrath.
But You, O Lord, are not like me—
You are slow to anger, rich in mercy,
Overflowing with steadfast love.
So I fall at Your feet,
Appealing to Your compassion.
You were ready to deliver me from evil,
Yet I walked willingly into the shadows.
You filled my cup with lovingkindness,
But I drank instead of hatred.
All day I wrestle with this thought:
“Surely, You have withdrawn Your Spirit from me.”
Why else would my soul groan in anguish?
How could Your holiness dwell
In one so defiled?
Yet even now, if You still hear me,
O God of my salvation,
Do not be silent.
Speak again to my soul.
Restore me by Your grace.
Renew a right spirit within me.
I asked my pal what he was doing
tomorrow- should I pay him a call?
He said that he'd had such a tiring week
he wasn't doing anything at all.
So he got out of bed and he didn't get dressed,
and he didn't get washed or brush teeth,
just wandered downstairs with no clothes on
showing all normally hidden beneath.
He didn't have coffee or breakfast,
and went without dinner and tea,
to go a whole day without filling one's tum
doesn't sound that appealing to me.
By evening his boredom was raging
and he vented his spleen on his kin,
eventually chasing them all down the street
wearing nowt but what he was born in.
Hairy and hungry, ranting and raving
like something from out of a zoo,
next time when I ask what his weekend plans are,
I'm sure he'll find something to do.
On a Sunday in the evening
The old barn becomes a hall
Social place where every weekend
The town folk go for a ball.
The inside is decorated
Lights are lit, the banners sway
By the walls barrels and cartwheels
Wooden stools and bales of hay.
Everybody loves a shindig
Where square dancing is the craze
Violins, guitars and banjos
Loud hillbilly music plays.
There’s a guy who’s always present
He’s the handsome Cowboy Kurt
On his head a leather Stetson
Dressed in jeans and chequered shirt.
Carol comes in golden pigtails
Gorgeous looking in flared skirt
She stands out; her smile is charming
She is hot and likes to flirt.
Cowboy Kurt looks quite appealing
He taps his feet to the beat
As other couples are reeling
Pretty Carol takes a seat.
Kurt decides to mosey on up
And lay his heart on the line
See if Carol would share some grub
Perhaps a swig of moonshine.
Tiny Carol surprises Kurt
Chugging down half a bottle
She eyes him coyly, looking pert
Then starts to jig full throttle.
Stunned Kurt is reeling to and fro
As wee Carol takes the lead
Dance floor clears; they put on a show
Kurt looks like a tumbleweed.
Music wouldn’t stop fast enough
For Kurt who couldn’t square dance
Carol is made of tougher stuff
And has high hopes for romance.
Totally lit and loving it
Carol trots to the outhouse
But when she returns, Kurt has split
“Where’s my man?” Carol does grouse
In his truck Kurt has hit the trail
Head still spinning from the dance
Carol sits upon a hay bale
Hoping he’ll return to prance
After the hoe down was over
Banjos and fiddles tucked away
Cowboy Kurt was still a rover
Out cold on the hay Carol lay.
------------------------------------------------------------
Written 6th October, 2014
A collaboration by Paul Callus and Carolyn Devonshire
You've been doing something that I really loathe.
You've been putting down a family because they don't have nice clothes.
You tell people that this family should stay home if they can't dress better than
that.
I'm ashamed to admit that I know you because you're a dirty rat.
You think they're not good enough because they can only afford clothes that are
second hand.
I want you to stay away from me because you are a person who I cannot stand.
They are human beings with feelings.
The things you've been saying are not appealing.
You are pathetic and you are lame.
You should definitely be ashamed.
Form:
To my younger self,
Here's a message to you,
A reference for all you go through,
Take heed from the start,
Cherish your giving heart,
It'll push you beyond limits,
Without even counting minutes,
Pushing yourself till pores bleed,
Working hard is your creed,
You are actually addicted,
Making social life conflicted,
Don't forget to smell the roses,
Understand the threat that poses,
This physical world is cool,
But will take you for a fool,
It'll chew you up and spit you out,
Don't give the devil any doubt,
He'll use anyone or anything,
Making sin a diamond ring,
Appealing to mask the masses,
Twisting your rose colored glasses,
In the midst of all of this,
You'll show love in a deep abyss,
Your light will shine in dark places,
Pulling loved ones from deep stasis,
Do not let this light smother,
There might not be another,
Mine is dim lit at best,
Yet still warms my chest,
Grab all falling hands in the path,
If not they'll suffer Hell's wrath,
Tell them about the great news,
Jesus has paid all of their dues,
Reach as many as you can,
For this was His plan,
Use the love God has given you,
Remember your worthy no matter what you'll do.
Love,
Garrett
Written: April 08, 2024
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Morphing into an appealing landscape,
gathered around a table embrace.
In the connection of family mindscape.
We find sanctuary in this precious place.
It engulfs you and completes its task,
a ghostly husk that is waxy and pale.
Dreams that last, a disturbing mask.
A table decorated with a phantom tale
Heirloom, the pink hearts flap,
In rhythm, they dance a poetic trap.
A heart, still beating, with metronomic grace,
twitching forks, dancing in the space.
Melodies in the air, a symphony's prism.
Their metallic bodies, alive with grace,
In utopian harmony, they find their place.
Never shall your children hear such schism
In whispers gentle and voices clear,
a secret kept, forever near,
Hidden in the depths, so dear.
Trusting even amid fear.
broken promises
expectation belied
heart feels anguish
for we have been to lied
double think deceit
where lies the fault line
to aggrandise ego
did not love for love pine
if earth life be a play
by God scripted
is not our consciousness
by each encounter uplifted
some hands hurt us
whilst others heal
why then are we not vibrant
at each point on the Ferris wheel
when someone tells a lie
why is our eye judgmental
to propel our soul’s growth
was not the wound instrumental
after betrayal we forgive
only for self-healing
instead offer loving embrace
invoking God’s grace appealing
oh worthy hermit
rise above the mundane
know we are spirit not form
let love and light reign
Thirty degrees and heavy frost
Of last night, killed the Impatiens
The running rose blooms and buds frozen
The Ginko is almost naked nearly all leaves gone
Only a few yellow strands
Left on the chilled branches
The white hoar's frost excentuates
Gold beneath the mostly barren limbs
Air is frozen as breathe into lungs
Comes out as foggy drift
Too cold to linger for the warmth
Of the inside seems so appealing
Responsiblity calls for today
Is celebration Sunday at church
There will be dinner after service
Then an extra choir practice
It was a hectic day but refreshing
In its own way, renewed friendships
Sharing a meal with church family
Seeing people enjoy what I prepared
Went out to see the damage to plants
From the first hard frost of the season
Most tender shoot are totally gone
It is amazing though the rose hangs on
Form:
The healthy foods do not appeal to me.
Carrots. Nope. Radishes. Na-dah.
Peanut butter. Yes! Chocolate! Uh-huh!
Apple pie with ice cream.
I dream of these things.
Someone brought something foreign to lunch.
Try it! She said. It is wonderful. A healthy snack.
It looked like mountain oysters, but maybe not as appealing
And I would never eat a mountain oyster
If I knew what it was.
Others came in and tasted the foreign blobs.
No one ranted and raved. A polite one or two thanked her.
You really should try one, she urged me.
She is the new wellness health guru for our company.
I politely declined. Without making the gag sign.
These little balls stayed out on a plate for an hour
Before I decided to take a whiff of one.
It’s peanut butter she told me. Try it!
At her coaxing I ate it, and it was pretty appealing.
I have been luring people into my office,
Telling them how awful these things are
Because when she leaves I plan to finish them off.