Long My bad Poems
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Why would I share with you my pain for you to turn around to inflict the same rain. My bad, I opened my own self up, allowing you my heart to touch. Now my heart tested again by another man, he claims friend. Found myself trusting in you to help see me through, but I in return does the same things for you. I liked it better when you called yourself friend and not my man. You were less boastful and we a lot closer. Things can never be the same a now un-kindled flame, another missed opportunity, a dam shame. Now I must go back to what I know, trusting in God the most. Thought he sent you to be a blessing to me, a lie in dicise like the Apple given by Eve. One thing that I can say I learned is there is learning in every situation, even in the most sinister occasion. So now I rather do it alone, then to have another man who calls my house, his home.
I want to live until Jesus comes down
I want to live until he parts the skies
by and by
My selfish prayer is
I want to live until Jesus parts the skies
I don't want to die by my bad choices
No longer shall I listen to those voices
A true relationship with God
starts first believe in of his righteousness of course
And on and on and over and over again
I remain I stand and shall things are possible in Him
Don't wanna die by gun fire
Don't wanna die by car
O' I don't wanna be remembered as a stistic
That would be horrific
Don't wanna die of cancer
These things I rebuke I'll not answer, O Lord
I want to live until Jesus comes down
I want to live until He parts the skies
by and by
My selfish prayer is
I want to live until Jesus parts the skies
Don't want to die by wrong choices
No longer shall I listen to those voices
A true relationship with God starts first
Believing on His righteousness if course
Don't wanna die by murder
Andi rebuke suicide to smart for that
Refuse to allow Covid 19 to take my last breath
And the matter of fact is wanna see my God, my Lord Jesus
Here on this Earth first
For alive I wanna see Christ part the skies
While the world's in raging fires
Oceans and seas elevate over land masses
Meteors fallings from the skies
People dying in front of my eyes
Cold and warm blooding down the streets
No need to call the police
Wars everywhere
No where to hide
Satan's demon's running rapid
Nation's leader telling you accept the Mark of the Beast
No thank you don't want that receipt
I'll eat dandelions and sparrows first
Before submit
I am only good and strong in God
Now I stand strong
All I want now I pray for to be alive
When Jesus parts the skies
10/31/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr ©
I am happily teaching my second grade students two bully-proofing strategies earlier today.
These powerful anti-bullying techniques are "the thank you" and the "skip away" both invented by me.
First I explain that the mean bullying types are sad inside, so they want others to be mad and sad too. which is why they choose meanness to do and say.
I need to know who they are, so the children write down the names of any child they have seen being mean, for only the teacher and me to see.
We practice the "thank you" this way. I bring up a student who gets to call me names. All hands shoot up. Everyone wants to bully me, until they get up here.
Today I gave twenty-three examples, and I implored the teacher to come up and call me names after two children tried, but failed me.
The teacher, a personal, great friend of mine,said, "I can't do it! But Cameron can." Cameron ran up as if he was being chased by a bear.
BAM! Five mean and ugly things came out. I was amazed and thanked him profusely for each compliment, even did a two-step and a skip to my Lou.
So don't let them see you're mad. Don't let them see you sad. If your face is giving you away, use the "skip away." Jimmy yells out, "Can't we just run away?"
"If you use the skip away, they wonder why you are so happy. " I tell them as they laugh at my bad skipping. "Skipping indicates happiness too."
The children returned to their seats to write down the names of all children who have said or done something mean that they have seen with their own eyes or heard with their own ears since Easter Day.
I say, "Not since kindergarten or first grade. Not something you have heard someone else say that they said. Only write down names of children whom you SAW or HEARD do meanness. Okay?
I was asked thirty-two times if they were supposed to put their names on their paper, curious since there are only 29 students , and two were absent today.
I made a little tally sheet and gave it to the teacher, only. One teacher asked if she could share it with her class, I said "No, because I promised the children this would only be seen by you and me. I smile at my own clever petard.
That's when things turned.
The teacher got a bit snippy. And I quietly skipped away.
stop telling me, trying to persuade me
that you won’t do what you do no more ‘cause
the first time left me blind, but now I see
it is what it is, you was what you was
the games the same men and boys like they toys
where you from a project slum taught you s---
tomorrow brought sorrow and little joy
what’s your point light the joint and take a hit
a change of mind can sure mess your mind up
fools and lies can be a futhamucka’
I brought all my bad habits and my cup
call your mother and tell her you love her
your sip and flip make me want to holler
cut the bulls--- and loan me five dollars
Refugee
I caught myself, my bad side. in the mirror
Of someone else’s face. I stopped mocking
No longer thinking it funny and placed my
Feet in the shoes they had to wear.
In my cynical mind it was a comedy
In theirs a moment of indecision, worry.
Go home to a war zone or stay here in safety, no brainer.
But here is not home.
They left: three-day journey by car. Dangerous in itself.
An escape made three months before, as missiles rained
And debris crashed around them. Scrambled essentials
Into a case, picked up the cat, dropped off spare keys.
But there’s nowhere like home compared to the life
Of a refugee.
Easy looking in, do the right thing as if a robot.
Joke about stupidity, as you see it. Life is a tragedy
And I can’t imagine what I’d do if I were a refugee.
David Cox 19/08/22
There I was seeing this Girl
We were both married having a thrill
We met at her house all the time
But she was too scared to meet at mine
There we were in the shops
Even on a farm among the hops
We where hooked, enjoying, we could not stop
Even at a red light being watch by a cop
Then one day I pulled up at her home
I see another man walk in with a chrome dome ( Bald head)
She’s two timing me
Don’t worry she’ll see
So I text her hubby that his wife is cheating
So that could come back and give this man a beating
The man walks out carrying his tool bag
So I think to myself “Oh Sh-t my bad
I get out the car warn her of what I done
And maybe take her some where we can have some fun
She was forgave me thinking being jealous was cute
Till a heaving seven foot ox walked in with a size fifteen boot
How do you explain to an angry man, that you got it all wrong
When you can’t speak the lingo of the dangerous King Kong
With his wife in your arms doing the bump jive
The only thought in you head is how the f-ck do I survive
Well let me tell you this from my hospital bed
Never describe the man if you both have bald heads
I never intended it to turn out this way
Sorry the morphine is kicking in so have Ahhh a nice day
I know I'm second-hand
Filtered out to feed ur addictions
It's bad for my health
But I can't help relapsing over the touches
They take the cigarettes to their lips
and blow the leftovers at me
And I inhale with everything I have
I'm out of breath
But when im with them
It feels like something to live on
I'm an addict for the 2nd hand
I can't avoid it as it blows through me
Around me
Hazing everything I used to be familiar with
It becomes a part of my bad habits
My new form of oxygen
Different from the one I was taught about
I'm second-hand
And I hate that my lungs are worse than u thought
It burns when I think about it
I shouldn't have gone
I promised I'd stay away
Find something to give me purpose again
But turns out it's all I'm good for
A product of what I was made of
2nd hand on what I grew up on
During strenuous hours
Too busy to daydreaming
And after a strenuous day
Too tired to dream too
But sonetimes my mind is
Too hardworking to dream
Maybe the challenging outside world
Makes me dream
No interpretations
Let it be
I have bad dreams and sweet dreams
I struggle in my bad dreams
Wake up sweating
But I feel relieved
Because it was only a dream
I smile in my sweet dreams
Wake up happy
Hoping that it may come true one day
But sometimes I feel disappointed
Because it was not true on the spot
And maybe hard to achieve in real life
I'm wandering in two worlds
Dreams just add colours to my life
Although without compromise
But free of charge
Like a movie on the TV programme
Our sponsor papers much earlier had reached,
To my dear sister we had promised,
This vacation we were to spend in Brisbane,
Surgeon declared emergency, plans in vain,
Oh trip to Australia, landed up in hospital instead!
Planned a gala party at home,
Leaving unturned not a single stone,
Invitation sent to esteemed guests,
Sickness left me quite stressed,
Food bland soups, no lavish bone!
Planned to meet beloved on a bright day,
Dressed in favourite blue, I was on my way,
Much to my agony, he said he was stuck,
A bad vacation it was, and my bad luck,
Consoled myself, thinking he must be gay !
Written on 13/7/14
Contest- Vacation humor
Sponsor- Carolyn Devonshire
Dear Tom
If I had the courage to speak from the heart
Ladybirds of redness would sing from
It.
I imagined my pain was of your making
But it was only the making of life.
Now I'm alive like a ladybug.
Still small but making my way bravely
Forward and backward and forward again.
Now more smoothly and flying at times.
Dear Tom
If I could speak from my heart
I'd say
Nails have been stuck in my chest
After you left.
I cared about each one of your steps
I could not witness you make.
It was the kind of loving I wanted for myself.
Dear Tom.
Your silence is empty like a heart that's
Been shut -
But I give myself to it and I'm full of it
Now.
I call things for what they are
Too. Do you hear ?
Cause shying away from the heart
Keeps it shut.
Dear Tom
I imagined you could be my home but
This was my bad.
Like I could have owned your being and
Fill it with mine.
That's not loving, that's owning.
Colonising. I retract.
Dear Tom,
I honour your spirit.
May it be freer and freer
With each day like a ladybug
That flies it's own
Own
Own way.