Long Convenient Poems
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‘Three ghosts Mr Scrooge? I find that so hard to believe,
That they might simply visit, to give you a reprieve!’
‘And the ghost of Jacob Marley, who’s been dead these past seven years
Transformed into a door knob, merely to add to your fears!’
‘I don’t expect you, good sir, to understand or comprehend,
Other than there is no earthly reason, why I should pretend
Or put my reputation on the line, with such a sorry tale
But I assure you the new Scrooge, no soul shall derail’.
‘They say you’ve quite the benefactor, in the case of Tiny Tim
But is that to be ongoing or merely just a whim?
And It seems rather convenient that it should be Christmas time
That you positively decide to put your morals on the line!!
‘I wish you well good sir, I only ask that you be good
And help this dithering old gentleman who never understood
Go about the important business of respecting festive cheer
That the ghosts bestowed upon me, to keep throughout the year!
(Inspired by the book ‘A Christmas Carol’ written by Charles Dickens).
A conversation with a fictional character Poetry Contest
Date - 14th February
Sponsored by - Natasha L Scragg
If I were a mountain lion
I would've been wary and wise
back turned safely to the wall
watching with careful eyes
I would've been cautious, cagey
and on the lookout for lies
but instead I trusted blindly
and fell for your disguise
You were my blood relation
a tie that was said to bind
but when I hit my lowest low
you were the most unkind
You used me when convenient
drained resources, energy
exploited my better nature
and got the best of me
When others acted cruelly
telling lies and tearing me down
instead of you defending me
you disowned me all over town
You were the most insidious
sneaky, snarky snipe
proving true the back-stabbing
best-friend stereotype
But, at last I found you out
your cover fully blown
I watched you fall in your own trap
and left you there alone
One criteria for heaven: Unconditional love for everyone
Not for only people who look like you
Or think like you
Not that there are any others.
Your religion, neighbors and family cannot help you now.
Guarantees you will get there: A loving heart
Joy in other’s accomplishments, integrity, standing up for others,
Following the golden rule always, not just when it is convenient.
No judging; which is why spirituality trumps religion.
Initial body death is a dream-state.
You get whopped out of your body sometimes before the flesh dies.
Especially if your body is about to be raped or murdered.
Your heavenly committee sees to it that you do not suffer more than you should.
You are alone in your heaven path,
even if your entire family gets killed together.
You are met by your committee of carefully selected guides and Archangels.
Jesus or Buddha? Possibly if you hold on tight to earthly beliefs.
Some of you might be greeted by Hitler.
If this happens, you may not be in heaven.
Just kidding!
Your committee is selected by you, and tweaked by you,
in between incarnations.
You might be met by your French poodle Ralphie,
who was killed when you were eight.
Whatever you expect is what you get in heaven.
If you expect dead is dead, you might get to sleep for a bit.
If you expect your relatives will all be there, they will be.
I expect to see flowers, trees, and colors we cannot see with earth eyes.
I expect to smell lemons, and Vicks, for those are my two favorite smells.
Have you ever had moonlight kiss the star;
As you hover over a toddler have you ever told them how tall you are;
Seldom mentioned never told;
Have you ever looked upon a woman and have a crush;
Never dreaming or endeavoring wanted lust;
Seldom mentioned never told
Your next door neighbor you don't know his or her name
You have no interest to ask nor to obtain
You're ashamed of your sins you've committed from birth until now
Your excuses to rebuke churches you choose to refuse those self improving choices
The Bible you feel is it prevalent nor real
Church people so unkind they don't come with you with open arms
They degrade you and down you by their denominations they undefined you
You convey your sinner saved by grace
And you don't have to sustain to their faith
Foraging it is useless if it doesn't have God in it
Oh how convenient you condemn me
He threatened me and yet Jesus has saved me...
In remission this is, seldom mentioned never told
You are saved by profession that Jesus Christ is Lord?
3/11/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021
Gossamer silk strings were woven into a work of art.
Dandling from a shrub and glittering with dawn impart
As dainty as a mutter, obliterated by an odd downpour.
And the artist must start at the inception of his explore.
They swing for me in the faint light till the evenfall.
Those fireflies move around in the dusk, too small.
My ingenuity is loaded with delightful charm.
As though love and flow beget all spars swarm.
Dragonflies are reckoned precisely to be apivorous.
Others wittily utter satan sustains them to gauge souls.
Dragonflies were typically the handy devil's Horse.
They persist bugs that swill a haul of active mosquitos.
Violent nature's peculiar brightness dwarfs anybody.
It's less remarkable than most people worry!
Frail creatures, plants, and minor bugs all communicate.
It's in their critical minds and unique dialects, supinate.
They befall welds for hearing from a convenient distance.
What individuals express verbally or divine omniscience,
They correctly display a loyal line of powwows with God.
They carefully review God and bow in ways we ignored.
You may warily aid animals birds and rare insects.
Sustain the valid pact with the blameless, lovely spirits.
The trees, plants, and rocks naturally involve our focus.
They are aiding earth discreetly and replacing the bogus.
Why kill a bug? What makes it equivalent to promptly kill?
Bugs, territory, and the imminent threat of danger shrill,
Others maim people by sucking blood or aggravating skin.
To spare their lives from being grabbed! can this be sin?
Written: January 16, 2022
Insects Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Angela Tune
Blissful emotional, physical, and spiritual state
(alternately titled Ataraxia)
No rhyme nor reason
explains ecstatic feeling woke
bright eyed and bushy tailed psyche
weight of the world
(think Atlas shrugged)
and/or mysterious Sisyphus
regarding former fate did unyoke,
while immense burden freed the latter
either one or 't'other analogy
allowed, enabled, and provided
unexpected reprieve, each reconnoitered
at convenient joint
rolled their own,
and took prolonged smoke
felt themselves as if in dreamland
hooping, pray née wishing
never to provoke...
stealing their lightness
of being with one thunderstroke
of wand, now think Voldemort
(Harry Potter nemesis), i.e.a mean bloke
exempli gratia re: "theft of death"
one whose path,
I would never fain
to cross, wha... iz zat
some kinda lame joke???
Nevertheless the two,
albeit fictitious gents
aforementioned larger
than life characters,
no no no... agents
provocateurs did espouse feeling
unbridled exuberance
communicated nonverbal
crystal clear subtle signals
to each the other regarding
most striking events
exceeding giddiness re:
measured in iambic accents,
than any costly expense
sieve sabbatical writing poetry,
especially Mephistophelean tense
chock full of suspense
romance, drama, comedy...
danse macabre no absence
spanning any genre
plus unfortunately saddled with immense
Earth shaking burdens without sense
and sensibility, hence...
analogous to this poem,
not worth two pence!
I sweepingly meet the slope to face with utmost reality.
There are a lot of glorious deeds for which we are careless.
It's viable to espy, as often as you sense fraternity.
While the rest of the local hut yearns, we are peerless.
Elements that are all around us for a convenient setting.
Being a piece of a visible world that is constantly shifting.
Aiming for a genuine feeling of bearing and mutual safety.
Having a feeling of mutual comfort and moral stability
Since we've risen dutifully and moved forward as a group.
Despite your prime motive for being closer, it does not dupe.
A particular pair of us spurring with a significant deal of ardency.
Others, then again, tacitly allow it to happen, sit aimlessly.
Gleaning to support any kids, we should hold them a prong.
Aiming to convey to them a prevalent belief of good and wrong.
Otherwise, this way, I'm gently moving to undergo the stress.
Everyone promptly settles on typical speed and cadence.
Written: December 07, 2021
Large heads
The Modern Slavery Crisis Must Be Addressed.
Calling on all poets for an urgent meet-up
The Pied Piper has surfaced again in this world.
On this occasion, he is dressed in a Jojo Armani suit.
He never drinks bottled water from the guest tables
He questions the labels, he questions the cell phones
He reacts to the earplug in their ears
It brought on a wave of sadness,
What is this madness? He said under his breath!
He looked across at the audience,
And whisper how convenient!
Stand up, stand up, stand up for your rights
Did this new generation go down without a fight?
No pointed hats, but why so many large heads?
Here ye hear ye, hear ye, have the men and women
This generation sold their souls for honey.
Misery is a life sentence in which love company,
That is why he called the meetup today, per se,
Cats and dogs will never be friends, he said in an unknown language
Timekeepers cannot stop time, time will run out,
Large heads will Strunk because it filled with air,
Great leaders of the world, I welcome you all.
But I am not Bob the builder, I can't shape your future
I am the Pied Piper:
My distracting theatrics verses are preempted versions of impending calamity, one by air, and, one by sea.
The point of levity is to advance the common element of surprise--the unexpected of the "clueless," whereto, I'll appropriately relabel as "passengers," save or bar the crew members, whom I'll also relabel them as, "sacrificial lambs," "... jolly good to go down with the ship, eh, First Mate?" "Every man for themselves, Captain!" "Are you from the States?" "Birmingham, sir." "England or Alabama?"
Levity is on because hope exists as time permits the gullible. A poem I wrote, exacts that point, entitled, "Mirror, In The Line Of Fire: POTW," where impending doom may claim your liberties, both physical [inability to move--fear], and mental [clear process to act--hysteria] is in the strike of you--death seizes your face/fate/faith.
My quantum phrase addressing those factors is, " ... gullible may hold the keys, but 'tis knowledge that opens the door."
Time idles whilst the plane sits on the tarmac--read the manual where on board is the safest place to position yourself or loved ones--a measure of hope--tho' odds are great, lean your faith on righteousness hold--greater than other--hymnally speaking.
With so much floatable furnishing, Titanic could have created a raft for a few souls more--again, a measure of hope.
A clear mind and ability to move give hope to those lacking, as fear and panic claim ownership of precious souls.
The odds may be great when facing such a calamity, and having such a mindset, therein lies the greater calamity.
A third survived, 700 souls, and two-thirds lost 1400 souls the Atlantic Ocean claims. A sad yet true revelation grew in Titanic's aftermath. The phraseology: "The Affluent Survived, The Destitute Died," adds another chapter of humanity's truths of life's measure of worth well-hid in the core of Eve's fruit, hence, illumination, "Since the beginning of time/knowledge of good and evil.
Murphy's Law acts as a jumping point for quantum knowledge in their efforts to simplify life struggles with a convenient doorway for its exit for your journey to a better you--give time for hope.
A Marriage of One
Shazar P. Diddle, a one-man-woman loved Bart, utterly, completely with a full heart.
Bart was a loner, a self-lover, a married-to-my-habits, this man who stole her heart.
She loved her dogs, her cat, rabbit, a goat named Meanie, but they only received about 10 percent of her love, the rest of it was reserved for Bart.
Bart loved his alcohol, cigarettes, secret stash of cocaine, his single lifestyle, and the money he made selling drugs, this good man, named Bart.
Shazar saw goodness and love when she looked at Bart. Bart saw an easy mark, a convenient wife and home, from whom he would promise to never part.
Yes, Shazar and Bart were married three years ago this Thursday,
and we all said, “Bless you both.” We enjoyed their wedding in a sense of family fun.
They pooled their loot, bought a boat, enjoyed a 3-day honeymoon. On day four, Bart called Shazar and said, “Sorry, but I’ve decided to be a marriage of one.”
It was the kind of marriage he wanted, forever and always, but of course she ran after him and the boat up and down the coast line, trying to change his mind.
Shazar, Shazar, Shazar, He was never yours in the first place. He’s too selfish to be in any relationship, To yourself, you must be kind.