Long Fly on the wall Poems
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Fool
[Verse 1]
In the corner bar where stories unfold,
Pouring out dreams worth their weight in gold,
Each drink tells a tale, a heart is revealed,
Listening close to all the wisdom that is sealed.
Hope in the glass, lift your spirit high,
The night is young, let your worries die. (Fly on the wall)
[Chorus]
Raise a toast to the night, let stories ignite,
In the rhythm of laughter, we’ll find our light,
With every pour, we chase away fear,
In this bar of belief, the Neon gods cheer,
Then we tend to shed away our tears.
[Verse 2]
Masters of thought, with a drink in hand,
Bartenders, philosophers, Cocaine dealers seem to understand,
Mixing up more ambition, give me a shot of that,
Things that can’t be ignored, like a baseball bat,
Words flow just like liquor, wisdom in disguise,
Open you mind, your heart, your soul realize with real eyes.
[Chorus]
[Outro]
So come and sit with me, the pain will go away,
Let us find a solution for when we stray.
I say...
No one heard no one listened
Now you're gone and everyone is trippin
You were so young no one payed attention
A fly on the wall a part of our life.
Our voice don't matter it hurts me to know you're gone.
No sees us no one feels our pain they look past us wishing we'd go away.
Another statistic one more dead soul. It's not your fault that that the world just didn't know
Our hearts weep now that you're gone we always saw you for the blessing that you are
You were left alone to die as in life when you needed it most no one by your side
We tried and we tried to be a family you wanted we're left to feel alone now today we cry
You're in a better place we'll miss you always please check in on us. We miss you we Need you you'll live forever in our hearts always
Rest well lost one
In 1976 the release of High Voltage
(In grade six) this is old school dopeness
Then Dirty Deeds [were] Done Dirt Cheap
Still in grade five, wanting summer relief
So I Let There Be Rock
Because of all the other schlock
So came the disco rage
I liked Blonde but even more Powerage
My first attempt at poetry was lost in the past
It was behind my painting [stolen] of the abstract
Out of Eight Grade, and the summer went well
Over the radio I heard Highway To Hell
And Bon Scott’s AC/DC were on the verge
Then it opened with a funeral dirge
And out of boom boxes Back in Black shot loud
It accompanied me on my paper route
When I heard the cannons and opening salute
For Those About To Rock was about to shoot
My mind in kind as I Flicked the Switch in ‘83
(A kind of Jailbreak) as I graduated high school early
And ended up in Georgia in the barracks
If I could’ve been a Fly on the Wall like a poster with tacks
(I wouldn’t ask Who Made Who, It was The All In All)
And I shouldn’t have lusted because you were married
I should’ve stayed away from Sherri, harried
And I’d Blow Up Your Video screen
I couldn’t get your perfume off of me
Then I walked The Razors Edge
As I tried to find my way away from the ledge
And as the walls were being dismantled by a Ballbreaker
I was playing the heart breaker
I was told to keep a Stiff Upper Lip
Even after the death of Dad and Nick
I slipped on Black Ice and into a Rock N Roll Dream
The things of this world were growing strangely dim
This is when Jesus changed my life
(A timely clearing of the mists of time)
And I started losing interest in AC/DC
I changed focus to more on Jesus and less on me
So I hold up a sign that says “Rock or Bust”
But it was in the Rock Jesus that I trust
It's been a long way here from where I once was
So now I Power Up on God and His love
my thoughts if I was a fly on the wall, would I be like God and observe things
light on the wall, waving my hands and arms
Or would I be still as a mouse, not trying to be caught
my thoughts if I was a clock on this self same wall
Would I talk would my language be tick tock-tic tock
or just tic tic tic tic tic or would I just be illuminated silent
If I were a bird on a tree just sitting quietly on the branch of a tree
What would become of me would I just light here or fly away
my thoughts are
I am a fly
I will stand tall
I am clock
I will tell time
I will sit strong I will show light
I will be strong I won't run out
I am a bird on a tree
I won't leave this branch unless the branch leaves me
I am
Of God
And God created me
more than a fly, a clock on the wall or a bird in the tree
I stand for God
for God stood for me He and Jesus stands my thoughts?
9/8/19
Written by James Edward Lee Sr. ©2019
Written for Project North Omaha Writers Group (NOW) assignment
Poetry: Assignment
The despicable fly thinks he is tall
Because he landed so high on the wall
But I’m about to show him just how small
He truly is when I make him fall
All because of a fly on the wall.
With a paper rolled tight with a band
Held firm in my good right hand,
I’ll send that dirty fly to the promised land —
The end of said fly will be so grand.
All because of a fly on the wall.
I draw back, then let it go,
Delivering the most powerful blow.
That nasty fly just has to go —
But alas, there’s nothing to show.
All because of a fly on the wall.
The cunning beast is fiercely fast —
I’ll stop him yet with a greater blast.
Time for mercy is long past.
A swing. A miss. I am aghast.
All because of a fly on the wall.
Past my ear the fly goes buzzing —
It truly makes me want to cuss-ing.
Now his brain I’ll be concussing,
But instead, my room’s a-mussing.
All because of a fly on the wall.
The lamp is broken, the desk upturned —
The fly. The fly. My anger burned.
But it does not seem concerned;
Oh fly, your buzzing, I’ll adjourn.
All because of a fly on the wall.
My efforts redouble, I do my worst —
My head is pounding, near to burst.
Oh this fly, it must be dispersed —
I miss again. I’m cursed, accursed.
All because of a fly on the wall.
Chest heaving, not enough air —
But I’ll do for that fly, it hasn’t a prayer.
Swing and swat, but it’s never there,
The fly acts as if it hasn’t a care.
All because of a fly on the wall.
I stumble, bumble, fumble, and fall —
Pushed too hard for something so small.
Too spent to stand, too weak to crawl —
Nothing to show though I’ve given my all.
All because of a fly on the wall.
My breath grows shallow, vision goes dark —
So much effort, I’ve left not a mark.
The truth sets in; reality stark —
I meet my end with none to remark.
All because of a fly on the wall.
There he is again/searching...
for me - the object of his disdain/
his bete noire
Looking at him through the facets of my vision...
- He is a hulking one of them
The ones who seek to cut off my already
truncated life
Swish! a swift and practiced mano
takes aim
Lo Mein from last night's relvelry
my launch to escape
....too evasive...
Yet, my aggravation is apparent -
if only to myself
Agitated setae sit stilly upon a
bottled back
Nonetheless, I take this latest attack
in stride....An insignificant setback in this
current battle between he and I/between I
and them
Since this is a constant struggle/one that has
probably been going on since the inception of time...
I profoundly ponder past assualts from
whilom ages
Is this the Genocide that my brothers from
another phylum speak of through the whisper mill?
For, I am also Black, but very
uncomely/I am Black, but the sun
has not made me so...
No!...
I have attained my shape, size, and melanin
through the evolutionary hand of creation
Still, do I deserve to procreate,
to be fruitful and multiply?
Each day my numbers diminish
and nobody questions why?
Yet, every attempt to exterminate my existence
is met with a well executed jete
Since hardly anyone is successful the first time
I then let the momentum carry me high
and away/until I once again become a
negroid speck on a drab canvas
....A canvas that only I can bring color to...
...F.O.T.W?...
Fly On The Wall
The Day
There is a Nat...
swimming in my coffee.
It is not too hot,
so he is still alive.
I could fish him out,
and let him live.
Or...
I could just,
drink him,
in.
There is a fly on the wall,
he has been watching me,
since I got up.
He waited for me since yesterday...
because I did not bother
to go and get the swatter.
He...
will be dead soon.
A mouse ate all the food I had saved...
the pantry is empty.
I will get traps. I can solve that.
It is the bigger problems of life,
that do me in.
Like why this or why that?
The indecision of making decisions,
that should be obvious...
for those, with common sense.
It is not common anymore.
I looked for some on the net.
There was none to be had.
It is in short supply.
A. Foster, Ann Foster, Annette Foster
Hot off the heels of Back in Black
A face melting 10 track
From the opening with cannon blast and more
It went to number one, Back in Black only number four
What? You question and rightly so
How did Back in Black peak so low?
Not sure, but none are out done
All AC/DC albums are number one
Even Powerage (the anti-disco disc)
And Flick of the Switch
Will scratch where you itch
(don't scratch the vinyl)
Or Fly on the Wall some say
Doesn't fly the AC/DC way
Hey it's all AC/DC when tracks are laid down
So put it in the 8-track, cassette or CD
into the player and rock your hometown
So when I listen to AC/DC my neighbors do too
All the way through (the mists of time):
For Those About to Rock (We Salute You)
(P.S. Thank you Daniel Mannix for the history of the Coliseum in Rome
AC/DC wouldn't have had the inspiration without reading your tome)
(P.S.S. AC/DC music has spawned more air guitarists
Than any other group or suzerainty or boxcarists)
sad the muse
sleeping muse
muse Calliope of epic poetry
muse Melponmene of tragedy
tragedy and a child mournful
tragedy born in childhood
cannot tell
will not tell
tell how this child was inspired
tell why words fill her dreams
dreams that swirl within
dreams that torture the night
on paper the child writes
this paper
paper
paper that bleeds with words
words pour out sadness
words dripping deep pain
a child doomed to tears
sad the tears
tears of deep sadness
tears rich with blood
blood and poems intertwined
blood that the muses desire
please you ask show
to us show
show us how to comfort her
show us why she has this skill
skill the Lord above bestowed
skill only the fly on the wall observes
a child poet
little poet
poet of a thousand words
poet of dancing prose
prose inspired by life
prose elegant and beautiful
poetry
poetry
poetry of rhyme and lyric one day to be
poetry that tells a story
story of a journey
story of a shattered heart
cannot tell
will not tell
tell you how the child spins the words
tell how words became writing
writing that leaves beauty
writing always leaving sad tears
tears of the innocent . . .
tears fall as I realize the child dreaming is me . . .
_________________
May 12, 2015
Poetry/Free Verse/sad ''tears''
Copyright Protected, ID 05-572-488-12
All Rights Reserved, 2015, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Show Don't Tell,
sponsor, Thomas Martin, Judged 2015
First Place
If I were a branch of a tree I would wrap my limbs around thee
And as if I was a bird flown flying in the mid-air
I would light at the end of the nap of your hair
Ahh! And if I could dance like a deer glimmering, galloping, jumping over many things
I would lie on you like the morning do grasses dew in the spring
~
If lavender were my essence and I was your last breath
Moisten lips I would comfort you with my kiss
If I was a fly on the wall and there was no stink no bone morrow left
Nothing disgustingly smells torrent tormenting odors yet
I would be suspended in mid-air if I was able I would suck the nectar out of you
~
Like a radiant flower you'll be lavender
Dripping from your breasts soothe cool warming essence
Neither one of us can resist
Buzzzz! Being so succulent pleasant evescent
All I need Is God first and the He that created thee
~
For on my morrow bone which is left for decades
My soul my spirit rises we together subside
Caressing, embracing and dancing on the golden streets of Heaven
Where we will once again hold hands and meet
For yet in heavens mansions there'll be no need
~
No need for marriage yet and still we shall be one eternally--if I
11/28/21
Written by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021