Long Gangs Poems
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As I sit and think of the world of today
A part of me just fades away
To give you an idea of the state the world is in.
I have no idea where to begin..
Murder by stabbing: a child with a gun
The parents say that they are just having fun.
Two-tier policing and turning a blind eye
No one cares when the innocent die
Drugs sold freely on the corner of the street.
People are starving with nothing to eat.
Sleeping in doorways in the heat and the cold.
Being homeless affects the young and the old.
Grooming gangs and knife-wielding thugs
Promising good times through drink and hard drugs
I remember the good times when the world was a safe place.
Now the world is being taken over by an uncaring human race
The grandeur of God, brilliant and ablaze,
shines bright like the sun from His white-hot eyes,
and gives light to space of vast and endless size;
conferring sight so Him the blind may praise.
His untold grace, which abides, endures, stays
forever, keeps and seals their lips from lies
so hearts and minds remain ordained and wise,
and give His Word divine, angelic raise.
For the millennial Kingdom's appointed time
arrives beyond end times' brief, labor pangs
and will save God's elect from sin's deadly grime,
so the oppressed by hell's demonic gangs
will live in glory and their sinless prime
once Christ destroys the Serpent's deadly fangs!
A foul stray-dog stink and a head smooth and pink,
A mouth full of razor sharp fangs
A gloss headed monster? The long-missing link?
He dines upon beast-hunter gangs
Its arms double jointed, its ears they are pointed
With hair sprouting downward from there
A long snout in place on his hair covered face
Means your blood he can smell in the air
He’ll sneak with such stealth which is bad for your health
For if you don’t spot him you’re dead
A few see him coming and make their escape
When the moon reflects off of his head
I’ve seen it in zombies and sometimes in ghouls
I think there’s been vampires as well
I once wrote a novel about this mad beast
My publisher said, “It won’t sell.”
He told me, “I’m sorry, I don’t like the story,
It’s silly, I can’t applaud this…”
But what he called ‘silly’ was my pride and joy…
‘The Werewolf With Male Pattern Baldness.’
Dustmen were dirty
Shoes had holes
Typewriters qwerty
Clothes were old
School was tough, kids were rough
Summers were always, quite cold
Three-day week
No power at night
Week after week another union strike
Nothing to do, so early to bed
Wake the next day to no loaves of bread
No central heating
Winters were freezing
No phone tweeting
Less coughing and sneezing
TV was great, watching films late
The Friday night Hammer, the best to see
British bulldog we played,
as gangs in the street
The shop round the corner,
had all the best sweets
And despite everything, when all’s said and done
The discontented decade was still lots of fun!
Gangs in the Cape Flats
are like wild cats
it does not matter who they come across
for you it can come across as a great loss
In an instant
They can become violent
Killing is in their blood
Like a flash flood
Harming people is what they do best
A life that everybody detest
Their lives are like a bad potion
Filled with poison
They will kill, rape and destroy
And take away people’s joy
All this can happen instantly
Without any dignity
Gang members only have respect for self
Only having respect for one self
Never showing respect for each other
Not even for a blood brother
To them poison is more like death
Like taking their last breath
Dying a slow death,
until taking their last breath
Never in a day
Will they go through in a good way.
The only way
Is by being the prey.
Helping someone shouldn't be
Thanked with such hostility
Meanness and harsh words from you
I've been trying these weeks through
Getting you to notice that
Your heading down a deadly path
Doing drugs and joining gangs
Showing me your scary fangs
That come out each time I try
To show you that this kind of life
Isn't meant to be taken
By someone already shaken
From a past of family trouble
Being blind that this will double
The effect and take a toll
Every time you lose control
Listening to your fake friends
And a life that's just pretend
All because you can't erase
The worry every single trace
Of your family history
Is how you were meant to be
But there is another way
Not to make the same mistakes
If you'd just take my advice
You could take a happy slice
Out of each and every thing
That this world offers and brings
So take my hand and I will lead
You to a path that will succeed
Step by step and side by side
I will see you shine with pride
Leaving the bad far behind
Now your friendly and so kind
Saying thank you with a smile
Even though it took a while
To reverse your way of thinking
No more violence, drugs or drinking
Getting high on life and fun
Replaces gangs and deadly guns
Now you shine in a good crowd
Friends saying how very proud
They are with the way you switched
Now your life is so enriched
Strong Faith
There are so many things in this life
So many obstacles that isn't right
You have to sit there for a minute
Be clear and no that Satan not always in it
Sometimes yo just have to beware
It's you and your personal choice
In sin nature
I am so glad that I repented
I hate to be late for my trip
To heaven when I pass this life
I am saved and guaranteed
That I won't be first nor last
I'm gonna be number eight
I believe I got this
I got strong faith, strong faith;
I got it, strong faith;
Use to be a sinner man
Now I'm just a repented soul
Use to say just any old prayer
head bowed down and folded hands
Sometimes I jut have to beware
It's me and my personal fears, (my choices)
Can't blame it on friend or family
Or even sin nature
I am so glad that I repented
I hate to be late for my trip
To heaven when I pass this life
I am saved and guaranteed
That I won't be first nor last
I'm gonna be number eight
I believe I got this
I got strong faith, strong faith;
I got it, strong faith;
So what if the world gonna end one day
So what if police and gangs shootings keep on
So what if a major disease comes and terminates every family
So what if there's more tropical storms
And in Alaska still they try to keep warm
So what if there's a World War 3
So what if California drops off the continent
I shall and so will you be covered
By the blood of the one whose already set us free
And I believe, I believe, I believe
I am so glad that I repented
I hate to be late for my trip
To heaven when I pass this life
I am saved and guaranteed
That I won't be first nor last
I'm gonna be number eight
I believe I got this I got strong faith
from anthology "Strong faith" 2017
written by James Edward Lee Sr.
10/05/17
Northern Ireland, it was a peaceful Saturday of August 15,
1998. There were many people shopping in the center of
Omagh, in Tyrone. Then, at 3:10 p.m., the car bomb
exploded close to the junction of Market Street and the
Dublin Road. The bomb, the murderous bomb, the
life taker ripped into the flesh, the existence of 29 people,
men, women, children, including 2 unborn babies. It
injured 220.
Britain's PM Tony Blair, Marjorie Mowlam, the Secretary
of State Northern Ireland, Mary McAleese, President of
the Republic of Ireland, Bernie Aherne, the taoiseach
Irish PM, all condemned this slaughter of humanity.
The Irish National Liberation Army called itself the "real"
IRA, claimed responsibility. They had slain God's own.
I dreamt of the Troubles, as mournful Celtic music
slowly played in my sorrowed psyche. Blood on the
shamrocks as the bombing victims still tell their story.
In my daydreams, children's choirs sing-
"When Irish Eyes Are Smiling" in many other areas of
the world, in the merriment of children's goodness.
Death should not collect especially the young, the hopes
of all of Ireland's youth, including Northern Ireland.
These days gang violence has made more shamrocks
bleed, as the gangs murder each other's dreams.
All of the emerald beauty's Troubles cannot fade into
history without the names of the innocents, and their
blood will not disappear. The tears of generations of
her people, her mourners, in every one of her rainfalls.
And I, an American of both Irish and British heritage,
grieve for her too. ~
Living in a bubble where reality is virtual
Truth is a blur in a fabricated ritual
TV news bursting with political views
The rich pay no taxes and the poor pay their dues
Guns are the toys that manufacture death
Violence the machine to take away your breath
The streets are a war zone not fit for walking
Some are mentally deranged, their AR15's do the talking
It's them against us and you against me
There's no compromise in the political sea
Gangs in the street, their guns have no pity
There's no mercy in bullets in the heart of the city
Hate is a commodity traded on wall street
The love stock has crashed in agonizing defeat
The Capitol's been sacked, and some people gloat
And some senators are selling their soul for a vote
2-16-2022
Follow the red dirt road.
Take it slow, walk it,
this is not an exploration
nor a pilgrimage,
it is a short tour around
the beginning of an idea
and its end.
Move along
past the few rural homesteads,
pass beyond the shacks
and the weather-beaten
tumbledown cabins,
the double and single wide
not so mobile homes
with their rusting trucks.
Hurry past the gypsy encampments.
with their gangs of wild dogs
until that dirt road ends
in a dry long uncultivated field.
This is where the dust
covers the old road maker
and beside his sunbaked bones
see how his maps and plans
are rolled up tight
never to be unrolled again.