Long Hands down Poems
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Is there any better sleep than an afternoon nap?
I think not, my Soup friendlies
Hands down, it's like I imagine what heaven is like
Not that I'm in any big hurry to make the trip
I really don't advise doing this if you haven't retired yet
Your boss could get a cranky old sod
Especially if you have your afternoon nap
In the middle of a very important client meeting
Perhaps then you might know what it's like to be retired
When I was much younger I envisioned retirement
As being “put out to pasture”
It ain't happened yet, I'm still full of “viss and pinegar”
As a hobby, I started searching some recipes online
And have made some tantalizing dishes
Which turned out pretty good for a rookie chef
Much to Cathie's delight I might add!
So my afternoon naps have been a lot less frequent recently
Along with writing poetry and cooking up a storm
I'm having to allot some special nap time
What a twist that's turned out to be!
© Jack Ellison 2014
Him. From my past, occupying my present.
I am lured by his essence - I mean like the presence of him brings me an ooey gooey all familiar warmth inside
He is hearty and wholesome like the yams and collards that grandma would whip up every Sunday after I would spend the service rebuking the hunger pang demons buried in my belly.
I mean like He's like dipping my toe into the hot wet bubbly after a lengthy stressful day.
I mean like he's not just my soul food or my personal spa retreat type get away.
You see he's like my morning fix of caffeine
that jolts me out of dream world into starting my day
I like the thought of being his lady not only because he's not really impressed by the many hip switchers with the 22 inch honey blond strands down their backs
And I'm not saying I'm perfect, like all my coals aren't diamonds yet but
I mean like he sees the core of my soul
he has worked with his bare hands down to the root of me
He reasons with my tears and takes my sadness for hostage replacing it with sweet melodies like honey dew in the morning
I peer into his sparkling Browns watching his spirit reach for and penetrate every last depth within me
Like....he glows he is my night light even
And like....it's not like I'm asking too much of him
He keeps his love stocked and plentiful like he's preparing for Armageddon
See yall he has arrested my heart I release all my woes onto him he washes my sins away like he's my personal Jesus or something
I mean like that's just the start of this love story
He rules all of my planets and wishes on all of my stars
Making sure our alignment will never deteriorate
I mean like....
We met in the summer of 1780,
When violins wept beneath candlelight.
A classical concert in Vienna’s old heart —
Mozart, Tchaikovsky, Chopin —
The kind of night that lives forever.
She sat beside me, dressed in black velvet,
Her hair like raven silk,
Eyes full of autumn skies and secret songs.
A Jewish rose blooming in a world too cold.
When The Marriage of Figaro filled the hall,
She turned to me.
Our eyes met —
Two souls suddenly remembering a story
That hadn’t yet been written.
After the last note fell like snow,
We stood in silence.
Then I spoke:
“Susan, will you walk with me… forever?”
She smiled — like moonlight bending through lace —
And whispered, “Yes.”
We held hands down 11th Avenue,
Not running, just floating —
As if love had wrapped the world in slow motion.
Each streetlamp bowed as we passed,
Each shadow sang.
But time is a jealous clock.
One morning, she was gone.
No note.
No breath.
Only a red scarf left on our bench —
And the scent of music still dancing in the wind.
Some say she was a dream.
Others swear she was an angel in disguise.
All I know is:
Since that night, every time I hear Mozart,
My heart turns to 1780…
To her eyes…
To Susan Brumel.
Again.......
I’ve been all wrong
watching it all disappear
Whispers in your ears
vibrations seeping through
with all my lost years
Lost in my mind
thinking of you
trying to get out
of my souls darkened room
Completely lacking control
lucidity within
Trying to remember
as lustrous looming begins
How did I get here?
where did it begin
Affliction and hurting inside
you can’t see the pain
Feeling lost in my mind
keeping up my defense
Ruefully it’s our hearts
lost souls to be blamed
Seen the show of the passionate kisses
longing for those times
of twilight inflictions
With you alone in the starriest of nights
why do I choose to live such a life
To be so dismissive
not wanting to fight
late night heartbreak
music turned low
long-standing lust
depleting my soul
Totally unconscious
my mind starts to race
Lost with deceitful erroneous painful mistakes
Perceptions can’t trace
as my eyes start to close
My heart starts to race
every time I lose control
It hurts with such passion
wrong or right
hands down its true
our loves seems so right
Moving on down that unsure road
Resisting all memories mindless download
Loving you while
loved by you
In love with you
while being in love to you
Thinking of you
always loving you
Have you ever noticed how
raunchy our children can smell?
Like the stench that arises
from, say, a rotting seashell.
It's true; cohabitation
can impose a certain stink.
But family ignores it,
despite what others might think.
Sometimes a polite request
is personal and discreet.
And other times, dad might yell,
for God's sake, go wash your feet.
Baths are most often paid for
when odors can't be ignored.
Perhaps you'll offer a toy
or some treat as a reward.
When they sit on an incline,
foul gasses tend to leak out.
And with a rubicund blush,
they'll blame the dog, no doubt.
We have learned to tolerate
most odors floating around.
But those silent, deadly farts
are the grossest smell, hands down.
(Quatrain)
3/5/2015
Which - 'Witch' is which :)
when a Bat doesn't need a ball to fly home,
can’t tell a Black Kat from a black cat in Rome
a wood bat has no wings to hit one homer,
havin' fun, can't stay home alone
Which Jack Lantern beats a Pumpkin
in one’s store hands-down:) a hand crafted,
one set alone...over any other lit in a window
at someone's home,
Witch screams from a 'mat' is louder...
than a cat, or 'Kat's Tale' when stepped on
then asked 'What is the mat-ter'
[Or-One]
Witch's hungry howls for a 'Black Kat'
thirsty to mugg some new Witch...
costumed 'City Kat' on some 'White block',
draped in a black cape, on a black pitch
night, not Knight, all out of candy hard rock
'meow',
Which U hear- Ghostly bats or Witch's HELLO?
'WhO' me or BOO; on Fright Night’s city streets,
Witch Trick's or treat for pumpkin sweets...
which is, also known, in our City as Holloween.
Were I to swim to the edge of the sea,
what splendid scene should await for me?
Would I behold the legendary town
with glittering brick roads and king’s famed crown?
Could I uncover the truth in the seed,
win a place in the king’s absolute creed?
Anoint my body, in sticky sap drown,
paddle to Guatavita and dive down.
Arise from the waters clean as a bead,
to the fest of El Dorado I’d lead.
No other exists so gilded, hands down,
an existence of gold — building and gown.
I’d join with the Muiscan folk, indeed
take up residence and full life proceed
to build again a foundation so sound
that none could purloin the gold around.
World befallen by avarice and greed,
best forgotten I hardily accede.
To such golden place without up or down
I’d ever exist in paradise found.
These eyes my own tv i am the star
in my head where chaos is my peace
i will fall like the tallest structure
everything will crash and burn
nothing will ever come back to me
will i ever see and feel or taste again.
Where are my eyes, where is my head?
I wanted to ask but my lips wont move!
Here i am, my hands down on the ground,
here i come, my legs somewhere behind,
smell i can remember was my own,
heart beat that feels like stolen home,
my marriage still hanging on,
does anyone know my purpose,
why i will never again see the snow,
or flowers in spring time,
smell of the dead leaves in fall,
where do i start from this time,
on two wheels is my home,
all alone my voice wont carry on,
can anyone see my glow,
it is gone with all the rest of the parts
i taste terribly just so you know
you hungry beast just finish me off,
take it all, take my heart,
maybe better if still pumping blood,
you will get more that way,
so much more through your veins i will flow,
its been too long since I've have felt this way
i am a monster now i was a monster than,
i wouldn't change a thing.
My first vote was for a Man who would not live long in the job. But to me had I known he would not be long in the job; was the greatest person. This was my first vote, I cherished it. Had he lived, I would put him in office now. He was handsome, he had cherisma, and he was the first Catholic President. None of that mattered to me. I thought because he was young, he could make a difference from the old stuffy ones that came before. I was young; just eighteen. He had a style of speech that could charm the skin off a cat. He was not cruel, but don't test him, because he could cut you into pieces like that of a sharp knife.
Everyone who knew of this man felt he could win hands down against his appointment. He made strides in his time Bay of pigs, Moon walk, and so much more. And when he was killed the World mourned. It came out that there were not good sides to his character, but that didn't matter. He had vision for the future of the country and he carried them out. None of us is perfect, but we have no insight. This man was brilliant. In thought, in word and in deed. And his flame will never burn out. I'm talking about JFK. A great President, And History agrees. Best and almost last vote, I have made. However, tradegy follows with the exception of his daughter who still lives. However, in life there are lessons to be learned. Learn them well America, learn them well.
I was in my sins being seemingly without hope and saving
But God the Father granted me His son Jesus endless mercies grace
Now I am clean completely copiously more or less
quite perfectly wholly repented, renewed heavenly bless
utterly fully all halleluiah
entirely thoroughly absolutely
O’ My father found me
Now I am gladly Oh so madly, now I am
Perfectly Totally found
exactly
altogether all over heartily
at length in whole substantially
through and through generally
Out of the blue
Skies shining brilliants hues
predominantly greatly unqualifiedly
O’ My father found me
Now I am gladly Oh so madly, now I am
Perfectly Totally found
downright to the max
categorically to the hilt
down to the ground down the line
infinite, limitless, boundless tilt
O’ My father found me
Now I am gladly Oh so madly, now I am
Perfectly Totally found
primarily principally extensive innumerable
generously abundantly predominately halleluiah
overall hands down by and large vast unlimited
immeasurable illimitable measureless fathomless
unmeasured inestimable incomputable
O’ My father found me
Now I am gladly Oh so madly, now I am
Perfectly Totally found
unbounded unfathomable
immense inexhaustible bottomless indefinite
abysmal incalculable
immensurable exhaustless halleluiah
O’ My father found me
Now I am gladly Oh so madly, now I am
Father, Father I thank you Lord God I am Perfectly Totally found
4/7/2023
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2023©
From SpokenWords Anthology
" I BEEN WORKING ON ME ME MR. JAMES "