Long Gunning Poems
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Nothing boot toe till rot and duff feet...
concerning yours truly
poor righteous leftist sole.
Great way to begin the new year
mine little feet about size nine wear
sneakers acquired At Ian's Boots
not for profit business
origin of said enterprise
brings more'n one tear.
Attempting nightly ritual
nsync with sole and
instep of beat
January second 11:33
two thousand twenty two
footwear equipped with
custom made cleat
proudly standing tall
(think) as an elite
able, eager, and ready
to sprint skyhigh fleet
ting into netherlands
(towering well over
other wiry contestants,
hence exception to
maximum height waved
outrageous illegitimate forfeit
chore blithely Atlas shrugged off),
the fountain head
whereby marathoner Olympian
amidst godly pantheon did greet,
then melted starter blocks
competitors crouched tigerlike
deftly gunning generating barreling heat
fast as greased lightning
Achilles catapulted courtesy blur,
zee mister (oak kay)
tree - man, i.e. helpmeet,
he roundly squared off
accompanied by his wifely entreat
for sakes Pete.
Thus situated, positioned, and finagled
husbandry duty obliging the misses,
no matter she kick started
(think thrashing outsize toddler)
childish task deemed
markedly cockameemie design,
subsequently these little feet (mine)
stood stolid upon bedroom floor
she did man date me,
supplicating, necessitating,
imploring, and decrying divine
intercession, cuz thee mademoiselle
did authoritatively assign,
thee mister getting mine
handy dandy grip upon her supine
corpulent physique
outstretched leaden legs
awaiting (the missus)
salute perfect sign
to commence powerfully
prying and pulling
first straight then nine
tee degrees practically pulling
footloose and eventually
detaching fancy free
thunder thighs, what strong
amazing anatomical design
nearly defying might
of super rich a$$ a nein
bird brainer heron
an ill eagle cro-magnon scheme
to untie clodhoppers
snug as a bug in a rug,
whence laces unknotted free
and clear whirled,
wide webbed formerly tangled skein
fo shoe more intolerable
than swallowing quinine.
In the pit of the darkness it's midnight
Cross horizon lots of new day
Fluorescent wrong casualties of war
Spun out tires the interstate grows
Infatuated with the debacry
Fathom crew it's all that's lost to me it's new
In the pit of the darkness it's midnight
~
On the clouds of righteousness none of this fits
Caught up in the mirage of prayers
While even in the darkness they pedal their wares
While being strung out on life, embracing your strife
Providence is gunning for you infatuated with the democracy
Fathom cruise it's all that's lost to me and it's new
In the pit of the darkness it's midnight
~
Shall I get up to heaven in this fleshy tattered frame
While it's not about getting their it is more about staying there
For our God has unequivocally has said that there's nothing new under the Sun
For one day when the Son sets down on this terrain ground
Bringing with Him His warring angels to battle the sin ful strangers
~
From the clouds of His righteousness He commits
His merciful salvation yours you should accept
While being strung out on life embracing this strife
Providence is gunning for you infatuated with the bureaucracy
Phantom dues it's all you have left and to me it's old it's new
In the pit of the darkness it's midnight
Callus prospective hues what's true what to do
Turn on the lights, Why? Cause...in the midst of in the pit of the darkness
1/1/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2022
“You saw them two sticks of that chicks’ and you know when you saw them you would easily be teased until on your knees, bereaved and pleased just by one simple hint of a squeeze breezing by the easily greasy feasibly weave that would succeed the mead that would come from honey by the bunny that would breed the pleading steed doing the deed that would not only completely beat the heat but accomplish the feat leaving the steep cleat carousing creeps to seek a new discreet meet up to wreak their teal dealing tear drop one stop hop hillbilly thrills of the buzz kills that go to stop the lot of pill popping pushers of the lush gush ers who stutter when one blunder makes a whole sunder of plunder wonder scum but humble for some done shunned gunning under-run mung crumb grumblers who then became grateful because the fate of the hate breaking masturbating mating rituals became habitually cyclically mystical in the fulfilling pill-killer of a psycho thriller!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Mine fervent aspiring political activism...
Gunning gusto, (while rosy axles grind)
for Bernie Sanders dagnabbit
nipped in figurative bud triggered zilch
prospects to germinate,
cultivate, and amalgamate
late blooming spore port as
schlocky, reedy, quirky, political neophyte,
whose aura, charisma, dogma
enigma, persona... absent gregarious masculinity.
Scant hours after posting Facebook message
Monday February 17, 2020
(regarding becoming linkedin
among Bernie Sanders's supporters
within Southeastern Montgomery Pennsylvania
hinting genuine motive (mine of course)
to join local grassroots bandwagon
electing catapulting aforementioned
Democratic candidate president,
into Oval Office
overwhelmingly elected
Tuesday November 3, 2020
an unexpectedly pleasant forthcoming response
(courtesy Jon Hall seven nine five eight at gmail)
informed yours truly transcendently, telepathically
inspired debate watch party
would be (accompanied when in full swing)
by most popular contra dance bands,
and eminently choreographed counting
topnotch cadres of policy wonks
upstairs at Molly Maguire's Irish Restaurant
(197 Bridge Street,
Phoenixville, Pennsylvania)19460
slated for Wednesday
March 19th, 2020 at 2000 hours military time.
Guess what dear readers...?
Yours truly, (an aging,
albeit eternally youthful
long haired pencil necked geek)
never experienced sought after fraternization
think ennobling rite of northwest passage
comprising electrifying informality
getting plugged into self-described
indomitable enthralling brouhaha
starring none other than
Democratic socialist and independent senator
from Green Mountain state
(by Samuel de Champlain in 1647)
Bernie Sanders exuding vim and vinegar
at age seventy eight
heartily hailing (no kidney ying)
who served in government since 1981.
I showed up at designated place
and specified time,
and got politely informed
courtesy young attractive hostess,
no such arousing, inspiring, spine tingling...
commingling of eager electorates slated,
thus overzealousness (mine)
bit the dust i.e. never got kickstarted.
What's happening?
Things are getting worse by the day
What's happening is the only question left to say
We are living in a world ,
That is not ok
We display
What we think the world wants to see
It's hurting us both you and me
For us to see what's going on
Police gunning down
Whether we are right or wrong
Mother's crying everyday
Fighting for justice in every way
People pulling out guns
Like its for fun
Now no one can enjoy
To afraid they may have to run
Now politics coming up
With all kinds of stuff
So I say this not to be distracting
I try to enlighten you on what's happening
What's happening to this world
It's going up in a twirl
What's happening let's see
How we can bring peace
People working
Just to get by
Can't even make enough to survive
The cost of living going up
Sometimes we get stuck
We get comfortable
Enough is enough
We need to build a brand
Do all we can
To let people know
We have the upper hand
The hand is upper
Provide the supper
Break the bread
Help out disciple's
That's what Jesus said
How can we bring peace
To a destructive place
How can we bring it back to ease
How can all this violence cease
What's happening to this world
It's going up in a twirl
What's happening let's see
How we can bring peace
Bridge
When will it come
Where there is no harm
When will we ever see
The world peace
(Repeat 1x)
What's happening to this world
It's going up in a twirl
What's happening let's see
How we can bring peace
(Repeat until chorus fades)
Written by: Concetta Hardnett
07/03/2022
Formidable flourishing fiends...
harangue since landing
yours truly immersed
in a dream-like
fiercesome state of war,
not quite a dream
can be described
as a "hypnagogic state"
while virtually in Singapore,
where Katy Perry
namesake of a lion doth roar
noise amplified courtesy dissonance
while nine inch nails synthesize
scraping across chalk board
evoking discordant soundcloud
foo fighting beastie boys
comprising a quatuor.
Socked away within
cerebral nooks and crannies
house mailer daemons
inconveniencing yours truly
i.e. an Indus das scribe
hub bull mendicant
bullying jimmying,
jump starting, joy riding
junket at breakneck speed
disregarding dangerous signposts
warning reckless (heedless) highjackers
speeding stolen heavily
sedated body (mine)
slap happily, obliviously,
jauntily (devil may
care attitude) careering
across rubble strewn
bombed out stone age terrain
gunning engine like
there's no tomorrow
zipping past crumpled
suspended abridged abutment
jarring sole abducted,
bound and gagged one tramp (me)
hurling over edge of cliff
temporarily free of gravity,
(albeit an infinitesimal eye blink)
between life and death
rapidly descending in accordance
with laws of physics,
when suddenly motion stops
as if thee Earth stood still
freezing all life forms
held as if invisibly tethered,
when ghostly debut appearance
courtesy Rod Serling
rattles of his trademark narration
"...fifth dimension beyond
that which is known to man.
...This is the dimension of imagination."
I resort to aforementioned loose analogy
to approximate mental state of limbo,
asper...this man falling to Earth
minus parachute on par
with crash test dummy
an absent firmament
to feel securely grounded
held stock still,
when moments before plunging
pitched head over heels...
only to find this mortal,
either entering or exiting
somnambulant state
only groggily awaking
out of deep sleep
falling out of bed
singing hup bout poor lovely bones.
Poet Destroyer is such a fox
Just look at her long, silky locks.
She just may be gunning
Watch out for her cunning.
She can scare you right out of your socks.
Poet Destroyer’s on site each day.
Writing poems, she does have a way.
She’s as swift as a cat
Everywhere she is at
On this website, she looks for her prey..
Of PD, you had better beware.
She can be ferocious like a bear.
She can take a bite
Out of anyone on site
Spit you out and never even care.
Poet Destroyer can be so loose.
She’s as ferocious as a mongoose.
Her road you don’t take
If you are a snake
Give it up, it will be of no use.
PD can sting like a scorpion.
You can’t think you have the battle won.
Unlike anything,
She has a big sting.
With her tail, you can become undone.
Despite her untamed interior
She displays a sweet exterior.
In all she can do
She is like a zoo
You have to be a great zookeeper.
Anti-Poem – “Prom Night At LAX 1973”
(Poet’s Instruction: Before reading this anti-poem, kindly go to YouTube and play Muzak: “Stimulus Progression.” Music can also be heard at my Facebook page under Stark Hunter. If possible, kindly play it in the background as you read.)
nine flags cologne boy
gunning a green ’71 ford torino
lapping up black asphalt dreams
cruising on deaf aviation boulevard
Ignoring the roaring jet monsters wheeze by
looking for pineapples and mouse ears
his date dressed in pink formal attire
sniffing a blood red corsage
ahead of them —
the flying saucer made of steel and space
mecca for their zipped-up prom dreams—
teenage reveries of lust and blue lace
now inside the circular restaurant
its glass windows vibrating with lights
another silver boeing beast lands nearby
with tornado voices howling in the wind
she says to her date—
‘how lovely the view is from our table—‘
‘people coming and going like mice from water’
‘it is exhilarating’
a tall waitress in jetson uniform brings iced tea
she tells cologne boy ‘bow ties are righteously cool’
now soul-numbing muzak is playing inside the restaurant
it seeps and drips and hovers like a funeral fog—
oozing through invisible space age loudspeakers
‘i just love this music,’ his date says
‘it is so romantic’
presently another 727 roars by
ascending like magic to the descending sun
11/23/21
Regardless of what you heard in town
There'll soon be a turnaround
No need to have it all burnt to the ground
First thing I got to do is put the alcohol and herb down
Girl we can still work it out
Don't think otherwise, we both deserve it now
Saw it coming
Doing something
Not only running
Towards success I am gunning
Got no time for fussing
Always careful on who I am trusting
Because it all can be disgusting
Which is why I'm adjusting
While particles continue fluxing
Often it's no quarter
Grow up instead of calling others a foreigner
Few if any truly in my corner
I remain an explorer
Not fearful of horror
As the planet stays cold or becomes warmer
Realize our lives over time become shorter
Meaning live it up on any side of the border
Because it's not all set in stone or requiring a mortar
Instead of always diving in head first
Don't just make the best of it, make an effort
Getting better with experience and putting out your best work
Going in all directions not just westward
Endless questions remaining
Quit always doing the same things
And complaining
Start changing
Toward a better path you may be paving
Ground is what you are gaining
After taking time for training
Eventually you'll be prevailing
After having gone astray
You might feel like it's not okay
But please don't throw it all away
Show love and have a happy holiday
SAWN ASUNDER
They were young black African-American boys
Some teenage, some twenty to thirty years old
Tempted slain with the guns no one wins no one won
SAWN ASUNDER
SAWN ASUNDER
Sin is a tempter
But choice is you decision
But like America you got tunnel vision
Are you sure you wanna do that
SAWN ASUNDER
SAWN ASUNDER
They're wearing the skins
Of non Caucasians
Not races just hates us
For no apparent reason other than sins lust
SAWN ASUNDER
SAWN ASUNDER
They are our troops in conflicts and in wars
What are they fighting for
Tempted slain with the guns no one wins no one won
SAWN ASUNDER
SAWN ASUNDER
Sin is a tempter
But choice is you decision
But like America you got tunnel vision
Are you sure you wanna do that
SAWN ASUNDER
Their are police who are protecting us
Not all of them are bad cops
Running around gunning down youths, and common citizens
SAWN ASUNDER
SAWN ASUNDER
Sin is a tempter
But choice is you decision
But like America you got tunnel vision
Are you sure you wanna do that
SAWN ASUNDER
Tempted slain with the guns no one wins no one won
They were stoned, tempted and slain by the sword
Wandering about in sheep and goat skins
Destitute, afflicted, tormented
SAWN ASUNDER
2/15/18
written by James Edward Lee Sr. 2018©
taken from/inspired by HEBREWS 11:37
from anthology “Actually Happening My True Testimony Reality”