Long Injuring Poems
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He grew up a fat kid
now a gym addict
can’t play sport though no good at it
thinks he’s worked hard while you had it natural
when really he’s doing what you did when at school
but it’s just the weights protein shakes
and muscle relaxers for him
not the competitive contact sport constantly injuring
it’s just losing fat and building muscle up
he's finished growing too so he's building pressure up
causing problems that see life took
in vain training to have a superficial look
getting big without cardiovascular
turning overweight fat to muscular
the poor heart and lungs straining
at a body to big to maintain
as they don’t really adapt to the new muscles he trains
a pressure on the respiratory system cannot remain
he's got the heart and lungs of a fat kid
building up muscle stack an obsessive habit
cus the foundation is layered during puberty
after which heart and lungs don't grow usually
so forcing the heart too far when as huge as he
fuelled by fat kid issues making it about how he appears
he has a jealousy if you were healthy in your younger years
and now he appears to be healthy
but the heart’s saying help me
it’ll hang on seemingly ok
but when it goes wrong,
that’s your life mate
have a nice day.
Being healthy starts young with the lungs and the heart
if you’re older these two the most important parts
build yourself up as strong as your heart is
or be someone too young to have since departed
Jock stumbled - pals called him a wus
(No injury was obvious)
But Jock bruised his willy
And now he feels silly
With todger strapped up in a truss
WRITTEN BY JAN ALLISON
Old Jock had injured and bruised his man thing
His doc said "Jock, you'll need a tartan sling"
He's now looking quite built
Bulging under his kilt
Lassies swoon when he does the Highland fling.
After a week his thing turned black and blue
Jock said "hoots mon, what am I ganna do"
But he'd left it too late
Doc had to amputate
And now poor Jock has to sit on the loo.
WRITTEN BY TOM CUNNINGHAM
He washed his new jock, it was new
So it tightly embraced both its crew
But after the race
Oh what a disgrace
His now aching partners were blue
WRITTEN BY JOHN LAWLESS
Jock stumbled and he landed face down
Injuring the jewel in his crown
His bruised pride and joy swelled
By awe it was beheld
Jock's tackle became talk of the town.
The doctor said I know just the thing
To give support to your ding-a-ling
Doc got Jock's bits strapped up
Jock swore and he cussed
For doc said it could be longstanding.
Jock's dilemma can be seen by all
He's going nuts because of the fall
He's craving free willy
To swing willy-nilly
And longs to unstrap his cannon ball.
WRITTEN BY BELLE BELLEVUE
Now Jock knew about liquid nitrogen
But sprayed on far more than he might have done
So just when it mattered
One tap and it shattered
And Jock said Hoots mon, me old fright’ner’s gone
He said Doc, I need a new caber
My wife has never gone through labour
The Doc held his gaze
Grabbed three treble A’s
And sewed on on a three foot light sabre
WRITTEN BY TERRY FLOOD
Jock managed to get his willy banged up,
He cried loud like a little newborn pup,
Stayed in bed a week,
It hurt to take a leak,
All because he slipped on his sippy cup
WRITTEN BY ALEXIS Y
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Stef, born in New Zealand’s fine country,
Moved to Canada aged 4 with her parents,
Where she had a boating accident aged 9,
Which amputated her right foot for her life.
She’s married to fellow Paralympian fast,
Canadian wheelchair racer Brent Lakatos,
And they both train at Loughborough Uni,
Where there’s a plethora of sports facilities.
Stef graduated from good Queens University,
In Biochemistry with honours and at times,
Is a professional speaker, a fashion model,
And lay preacher of the gospel and the way.
Before the accident Stephanie played rugby,
But afterwards she could not do this because,
Her prosthetic was at risk of detaching itself,
Mid-game and injuring near placed players.
So she went into track and field athletics,
Practised until she became sick and tired,
Which saw her make the 2008 Paralympics,
In Beijing when she won gold for the sprint.
She graced the podium often at small meets,
In Manchester and in London. Christchurch
Saw her flourish when she won two bronzes:
One for the long jump and one for the 200m.
In Swansea at the European games in 2014,
Stef took home for the T44 long jump a gold,
And in the London Paras which introduced,
So many to disability sport, she won a silver.
In Rio she won another silver, on the mark
For TeamGB. She hasn’t always represented,
Britain because when she was much younger,
She competed for Canada’s rocky territory.
November 29 Relationship to God Bible Meditations Based on 1Timothy 1-2
Key Verse– 1Timothy 1:2 Unto Timothy, my own son in the faith: Grace, mercy, and peace, from God our Father and Jesus Christ our Lord.
LORD GOD, YOU ARE MY PEACEFULNESS HOPE
Lord God, You are my peacefulness Hope with Your beseeching kindness
Thank You for keeping me around Your ministering goodness
Toward Your charity’s purity and loving helpfulness
Away from swerving vain worldliness.
Lord God, You are my peacefulness Hope with Your affirming desires
Thank You for securing me along what Your holiness requires
Toward Your sanctification which Your righteousness requires
Away from defiling sins that quench revival fires.
Lord God, You are my peacefulness Hope with Your shining Gospel light
Thank You for enabling me to win souls by Your faithfulness might
Toward Your mercy’s delight against unbelief’s fright
Away from injuring deceit with foolishness-height.
Lord God, You are my peacefulness Hope with Your everlasting grace
Thank You for teaching me by Your wisdom along life’s race
Toward Your charge for powerful warfare-brace
Away from wavering faith-shipwreck of bad conscience-trace.
Lord God, You are my peacefulness Hope with Your interceding supplication
Thank You for leading me by Your authoritative direction
Toward Your cheerful servanthood exhortation
Away from mocking taunts and insulting degradation.
Lord God, You are my peacefulness Hope with Your upholding testimony
Thank You for enforcing me Your truth more precious than money
Toward Your answers for my prayers exceedingly many
Away from tempting entertainment filled with carnality’s honey.
Lord God, You are my peacefulness Hope with Your pardoning claim
Thank You for forgiving me by Your compassion’s flame
Toward Your purification for my transgression-blame
Away from continuing plague of iniquity-shame.
November 29, 2023
Do I stay or do I go?
Through rain and shine, sleek or snow?
Promises haven't happened just yet
But sometime soon, I bet
Confused thoughts roam in my brain
Like a vicious loud thundering freight train
Tears cry no more, but my heart screams
Because I feel like I'm losing all of my dreams
Silent footsteps through the halls
Red eyes appear through these four walls
So much love but so less trust
Bracing myself for it to be lost in the dust
Burning words may be from his heart
But different counties keep us apart
Do I listen to all he said?
Or am I just preparing myself for dread?
Can he make the kisses feel like new?
Well, the one's he's given me are very few
Watching him drift in and out of life
Injuring so deep like a bloody knife
Letters were written did they mean a thing?
Does he really want me to wear his ring?
Poetry to me is a very beautiful thing,
It’s about your identity and community,
About friends, family and kind feeling,
And it’s about how you place in society.
It reflects upon your sexual partners,
References them as your mind’s pivot,
What love’s base is, about its garners,
And what should be loves fine ingot.
It explains sociology, culture and trends,
Shows your diversity, admits your choices,
Specifies any displacement for kind amends,
Any disorientation for your readers’ voices.
I believe poetry can just be for yourself,
For your own edification and collection,
Because if by it you identify as an elf,
You won’t be defined as uncanny deviation.
Indeed, deviation does not exist in poetry,
Nor does it form the reason for its writing;
Poetry embraces honesty, love and sobriety,
With an imagination where truth is flying.
The credibility of poetry goes unquestioned,
Because if you lie by it, you’ll feel the traction,
It always takes you seriously unreasoned,
Never disqualifying a difficult emotion.
Your awkward emotions are disquisition, code,
Eagerness and enthusiasm are their reception;
Sociology by it can become your chatting mode,
And politics can become your injuring person.
Poetry as a literary art is fructuous with stance,
Offering a handshake to any from a dumb;
Sets alight concepts and feelings to enhance,
Lives that may otherwise be under the thumb.
"Life is so unpredictable. What we expect may not happen. Life deludes us with a happy beginning but can end up bizarre" - By Poet
‘Twas the night before Christmas, a time eagerly awaited,
Had plans many in store to make the Christmas eve bright
That morning, with rising thrill, I woke up early before dawn
A gentle breeze whizzed past me, telling all would be right.
I had to set up the Christmas tree, do many errands
Sure, it would be a lovely day with blessings on my way
But sad it turned to be a doom’s day
With misfortunes in succession coming to slay
Going to the kitchen to light the gas stove,
To make a cup of morning tea
To warm up in that early hours of the day
I found the gas cylinder completely empty.
As an alternative, tried to plug on the electric stove
Ouch! I got the shock of a violent kick,
And in my effort to balance myself,
I leaned back upsetting a tumbler of milk.
The glass tumbler broke into several pieces
And the milk got strewn on me and all over
Messing up my dress, the floor and the kitchen rug
Making me lose all my composure.
I picked up the umpteen shards of glass
A job I did with utmost care
Again it took an hour, cleaning up the floor
And also washing the rug, a messy affair!
I thought of taking a quick shower
And in a hurry was moving barefoot
When suddenly I winced in pain
As a piece of glass got struck underfoot
I heard the door bell ring n’ ring
Limping, I moved to open the door
Back from his usual morning walk
Was my husband all shabby, his face with a deep scar
A cyclist had knocked him down and he fell sideways,
Into a muddy puddle injuring his legs and face,
And by the time he got onto his feet
That miscreant had vacated the space.
Nothing I could instantly think,
Other than leaning on his soiled chest
With a suppressed sob and a moan,
My body still sticky with milk by morning’s accursed test.
Sad, when the time came, there was no Christmas tree
Nor was there a gala dinner with roasted turkey,
As both of us had to limp with bruised legs and scarred face.
Never expected Christmas eve would turn so murky!
Many folk think their life is sore
even describing it like a living hell
but really ia that really true?
as it may be media wanting a sell
We really need to look at scripture
for it says plenty about this abode
it speaks more of it than heaven
as reading the bible has showed
Hell is described as a living torment
one which is like never ending fire
an endless darkness having no sight
the pain there will never tire
Whatever this world brings upon you
doesn't remotely compare to what's to follow
don't hide your head continually in the sand
denying your hearts voice will be sorrow
Be grateful this world is not the hell
scripture teaches is to eternally come
take the rescue route via Jesus
don't neglect it to be spiritually dumb
QUOTE:
("We are already in Hell. It is the earth itself that is Hell, the prison constructed for us by an intelligence superior to our own, in which I could not take a step without injuring the happiness of others, and in which my fellow creatures could not enjoy their own happiness without causing me pain.”
-Inferno ? August Strindberg )
“ ... the bee collects nectar and departs without
injuring the flower, or its color or fragrance .... "
Quote from _ Quotefancy
I am a bee and my life is an eternal struggle
each day I need nectar and pollen to survive
I also need water- but I have found a haven
a bee friendly city garden created with love
oh, I don't mind sharing it with butterflies
and hummingbirds, I know they need food too !
I have watched the young women planting
she is so calm and tranquil and knows
exactly what I like. How did she know that
I cannot see red, but love purple and yellow
and I don't mind blue and white, but no red !
She has created a sweet garden of delight
with purple coneflowers, black eyed susan
sunflowers, daisies, lupines, zinnias, phlox
yarrow, asters and even herbs that I love
like rosemary, oregano, basil and chives,
of course, in reality I do not know their names !
One day, I made a mistake and flew inside
an open door, I was in a daze and was buzzing
but she did not hurt me but cupped her hands
and carried me back outside and placed me
gently on a purple coneflower, that was nice !
She even considered that we need to drink
and has given us a bird bath of clean water
well, I have to share it with the butterflies
and birds, ever seen a hummingbird take a bath !
Oh, I love my wildflower haven . . .
____________________
May 27, 2022
Poetry/Personification/The Bee Haven
Copyright Protected, ID 05-1459-026-27
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Bee Creative
sponsor, Matt Caliri, Judged 07/1712022
When i think my life is boring
Childhood memories out
of nowhere appear to me
Speaking has my life really
been so boring this far
If i in fact did thus
Like when i was only 13 i and
my friend went into town
And on the way back i jumped
off the train
Luckily injuring myself just
enough i didn't have to explain
to my parents
Why and what i was doing on a
train or in town in the 1st place
Ran into a barbwire fence at
night needing to pee after
drinking to much tea because
that fense i could not see
Or when i cocked a gun and
it accidentally went off and
i ended up with a bullet hole
in my hand
And when at 3 o'clock in the
dead of winter 4 sheets to
the wind my friends decided
to climb a mountain up
Stopping only take on board
fluids and start a fire
Nearly setting that tinder
mountain and all of us ablaze
Then trying to put it out with
with a survival backpack with
only Vodka , Brandy and Rum
in it
So when i think my life is boring
Rather instead i should think
I am not so much boring as
evidently stupid
Better to be boring than
dead exciting
As i am not a cat or 9
And cannot know exactly just
how many lives i possibly
have left