Long Call a spade a spade Poems
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I know, my child dear, you are growing up physically,
Your mind, I see, has been developing quizzically;
As your flesh and blood, and bones intermingle in your growth,
Shouldn't ethically fine fiber become your true troth...?
While respecting your father, mother, sister, and brother,
Shouldn't you respect, too, your neighbor and any other?
Shouldn't each word you think and speak, at each moment, my child,
Be truth and truth alone in your self-styled way - mild or wild...?
Shouldn't, my child, your confidence combine with your kindness?
And to your helpfulness to others, should you show blindness?
Shouldn't you be industrious, and all the same, sincere?
To call a spade a spade should you ever in your life fear...?
Shouldn’t you accept your wrongs, while you're happy when you're right?
Against the might, for the rights of the poor, shouldn't you fight?
Shouldn't your love, just as humans, reach out to all creatures?
Shouldn't optimism be the brightest of all your features...?
Shouldn't you, to safeguard Mother Nature, always be bold?
To esteem, the world as your household, shouldn't your mind, mold?
Could you execute these, my child, in your life, as you grow?
Shouldn't, like the priceless gems, your existence ever glow...???
20 February 2023
The 12 Things You'd Teach Your Child Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Matt Caliri
Now, being a senior citizen,
Is it too late for me to reflect on,
What went wrong in my life?
Born and brought up in a family,
Where morals and values played their role,
I learned to call ‘a spade a spade’.
My straightforwardness, distanced me
From my relatives, and friends.
‘Tyrant’ is the title, I got from my kin and kith,
For I am a disciplinarian.
My dislike for servility, is taken
For haughtiness, by my employers.
My impartiality towards others,
Made me a foe of all equally.
To my pupils, I’m an alien from outer space,
Since I am a lover of perfectionism.
I drew a ‘Lakshmana Rekha’ for my children,
Wishing them to be on the path of righteousness.
They think by being firm towards them,
I have clipped their wings of freedom.
Now, as the most misunderstood man I remain!
To be a pet of all, should I come out of my domain?
Note: ‘Lakshmana Rekha’, in some later versions of the Hindu epic Ramayana, is a line in the soil drawn by Lakshmana. This line is drawn around the dwelling in the forest that he shared with his elder brother, Rama, and Rama’s wife, Sita. This line is meant to protect Sita, while he was away searching for Rama.
People say I am like my mother.
The apple did not fall far from the tree,
We wear our hearts on our sleeves.
We call a spade a spade, so
What is good for the goose goes for the gander,
And when a letter turns up,
We don’t return it to the sender,
Because we believe in forgive and forget,
Life continues, no regrets.
So whenever, an opportunity knocks on our door,
We are very obliged to reach out and help a friend.
Because a friend in need, is a friend in deed,
When days are dark, friends are usually few.
So I really try to walk in my mother’s shoes,
She wore the same size that I do.
And I can fit in them too.
I try always to do my best,
Because better is best than less.
Who knows how the wind blows,
Tomorrow I must just need a friend, to return a favour,
One hand wash the other.
And like they say, we cannot be,
Our sisters’ keepers or brothers’ seekers.
But we can keep a promise, cross our hearts ’till we die,
And swear never to tell a lie.
The politicization of masks is as stupid as
it is tragic, if I may call a spade a spade.
It's so irresponsible; thousands are dead as a result!
I'd shout this fact out from the mountaintop
if I could! Who thought it was a good idea?
It's sad to see so many Americans, especially those
who identify as "conservatives" not being
conservative in following the advice of doctors,
epidemiologists and scientists. It's quite perplexing.
Nothing about it makes an iota of sense!
Wearing a mask, or not wearing one
has absolutely nothing to do with
one's political affiliation. Thousands
of people dying alone in the hospital
of Covid-19 on a quotidian basis...
are Democrats, Republicans, Independents,
children, senior citizens, the rich, the poor,
shall I go on? Covid-19 cases are still surging
exponentially across the United States, and not a soul
is immune. This virus infects and kills every one of us.
A mask is not and shouldn't be thought of as
a political statement! It's no different from any
piece of clothing. One wears it for personal safety
and the safety of others. Wear it to protect your child,
friend, neighbor, parents, grandparents; even strangers.
Until there's a vaccine, we must continue to
protect ourselves against this insidious virus
that has stolen more than quarter of a million lives
and counting! Wear your masks and maintain
a six-feet social distance from others. Safety is key!
Date written: 11/22/2020
A giant glass of warmed up milk
A great bedtime elixir
Don't know bout you, all my P-Soup friends
Prefer pie as a bedtime fixer
Now I know I'm being extremely naughty
But just turned seventy-eight
Who gives a poop if I'm a contrary old geezer
It's my right I've accepted my fate
Always been known as a sweet old duffer
Time to call a spade a spade
Thought you knew me, sure fooled all youse guys
The crankiest *****sapien made
My most intimate friends know not to cross me
To feel my wrath would be deadly
They stay clear of any controversial subjects
So they don't make the boat unsteady
At one time in my life it was important to me
To be loved and to have lotsa friends
Not any more just couldn't give two hoots
Seventy-eight and nearing the end
Who knows how much time we all have left
No guarantees we'll even see tomorrow
So from this day forward gonna make my own rules
From now on gonna rest on my laurels
LOL
© Jack Ellison 2013
At times we should not be afraid
to roundly call a spade a spade.
I shrink not from a reference
to a fearful pestilence.
From Leo the king to a lowly vole,
the fear of death held all in thrall.
Even the amorous turtledove
found no appetite for love.
At last King Leo called together
birds big and small of every feather,
dogs, wolves, hares, horses, cattle,
to join a mighty fearless battle
against a woe that knew no measure,
that revealed divine displeasure.
In a tone both low and grave
the king proposed a way to save
his subjects from destruction's pit
in a way that would best fit.
"Beloved creatures, renouncing sins
alone celestial pardon wins.
Let each of us search heart and soul.
to find what error played a role
in provoking Heaven's frown,
sparing not Our royal crown.
We too have erred, let Us confess,
sharing guilt for the present mess.
Often We - Oh, truth to tell -
a flock of harmless sheep befell.
We must not omit to say,
the shepherd too his life did pay."
"Your conscience is too tender, Sire"
From all such self-reproach retire!
That shepherd got his just reward;
for humankind no tear afford.
Us animals they kill, enslave.
The world has lost but one more knave."
Thus spoke the wolves dressed in black
whose legal minds no cunning lack.
The animals told, one by one
all the wicked things they'd done
until it was a donkey's turn
to say for what his heart did burn.
"Once I was standing at a fence,
For what I did there's no defence.
I felt an urge - o woe betide! -
to munch grass on the neighbor's side.
Some demon drove me to so act.
Conscience forbid I hide the fact."
"Oh monstrous sin! Abomination!
Betrayal of the animal nation!
'Tis this wicked foolish ass
that has incurred God's wrath, alas!
The court did not brook delay.
Someone had the price to play.
Love’s Fatality
Love is a fickle partner
One moment it is deep like the color of a red rose
The next it is melancholy like a faded yellow lily
For the slightest interpretation of the mind
Can render it to be trivial almost useless
Inevitably time will find fissures in the walls of life
These become cracks that cannot be mended
Good intentions are mere bandages to a wound
That will not close
Slowly but surely like the wilting of a flower
The inevitable occurs
Best to remove any ill will afore it spreads
Like a cancer run amok
To call a spade a spade
Before the pain becomes too great
Love lost is better than none found
This is the plague that follows us all
Andreas Simic©
Has the world gone completely mad
All the words we've been using
Are quickly changing, it's so sad
I am a woman
Feminine as can be
I still call a spade a spade
And a she a she
It does not offend me
Or cause me any strife
I am still a person
I am my Husband's Wife
I am independent and unique as well
Since I was born a female
I'm delighted I am a girl
I do not feel my gender is for others to debate
Have they nothing on their agenda
Of which we people can relate
There must be many others
That think the same as I
It makes no sense of lots of things
And you start thinking why
Are they interfering in this unnecessary direction
I'm quite happy as they were familiar and perfection
ps
A thought has just occurred to me
I wonder how it would be
If you could no longer call an E mu an Emu
But Personmu or She
(TeeHee!!!!!!)
Someone asked us how we began,
in as what was our truth search plan
and the path to which we were drawn
to perform a consciousness scan?
We sleep when we’re prompted to yawn,
awaking to vibrance of dawn,
table laid for joy readymade,
soul transforming as life flows on.
Let us then call a spade a spade,
saying God’s always at our aid,
which we know not, for we’re in thought,
assigning our ego a grade.
In strobes of love and light we’re taught,
recognised if heart be not taut,
for which if we befriend the void,
we’ll frolic carefree as we ought.
No longer then by mind decoyed,
childlike heart pure and unalloyed,
lighting the lamp of love within,
God’s grace ignites our head ovoid.
Life is a dream, know there’s no sin.
Breath by breath let’s anew begin.
God dwells in the cave of our heart.
He calls to us; plunge in therein.
Ego, not love, seeks vibrational match
for love is simply an effervescence
like yonder sun, lighting up each dark patch,
being quintessence of our soul’s essence.
Is not fickle love, that seeks a caress,
being dependent upon an exchange;
which if denied, soon begins to regress,
succumbing to cravings, our soul finds strange?
Love that is pure, is of the agape kind,
non-judging, all-embracing compassion,
a sublime radiance, no urge can bind
but perhaps such love is not in fashion.
If endearment be reduced to a trade,
deludedly, we assign love a grade.
Deludedly, we assign love a grade,
higher, if it gratifies our ego,
which is afraid to call a spade a spade,
need to be stroked, unable to let go.
As life unfolds and our consciousness shifts,
we may find that our interests diverge
but elixir of pure love, all hearts lifts,
radiating at all times, a bliss surge.
What matters at all times, is simply this,
that we see in our partner, divine light,
ensconced wherein, both our souls merge to kiss,
drenched in bliss mists, heightening heart’s delight.
Where love pulsates, there can remain no catch;
ego, not love, seeks vibrational match.