Long Newborns Poems
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Incomers
From the middle east and Africa, people seek European shores
dispossessed and poverty struck, they seek, a better life
a promised life of democracy and work for everyone
Many, when reaching Europe, cross the channel from France
in Britain, thanks to the BBC World program.
Their point of embarkation is Libya, once a successful state
now a rough country laid low when their leader, Ghaddafi
was murdered by Western power getting their blood dripping
hands-on petroleum.
With many races and cultures coming to Europe, one asks?
Is there an upper limit for this invasion; is there a moment?
When, this must stop for the sake of the individual nation-states?
Is this influx good for Europe, making it malleable for business
a low-wage economy and no bothersome trade union?
The truth is, in Western countries, have a net loss of newborns
because of a high standard of living and top-educated women
who no longer want to be burdened by many children, this
make perfect sense not to waste time with childbearing.
When Russia noticed the population was retracted, they did
something about this and introduced an economic plan to
counter this and gained; we see the same in Nordic countries
In Portugal, say, too few children are born it only takes
a couple of generations to empty the land of its inhabitants
Migrants to our shore can be a blessing infusing new blood
to an ageing population, it may not be like the nation of Yore
two cultures merge, that is better than being forgotten. No?
The colorful times of cool warm autumn
Warm autumn breeze blown
Trees bark chap like lips burn
Mothers snuggle up with newborns
Green grass brown no longer shown
Ants scatter bees sucking blooms
Everything’s dying no spring zone
Fact of the matter is stone
Promises of squirrels planting nuts loan
Hearing chitter shatter rattles of groans
Warm autumn breeze blown
Trees bark chap like lips burn
Turning whirling whisk of cyclones
Boarder line tornadic paths unknown
Warm autumn breeze blown
Hummingbird trombone based beak
Tamable radiant sugar nectar sweets
Autumn fall trees multicolor leaves
Leaves orange, yellows, brown red
Notable tones overgrown alone bled
Warm autumn breeze blown
Trees bark chap like lips burn
Turning whirling whisk of cyclones
Boarder line tornadic paths unknown
The colorful times of cool warm autumn
10/25/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2022©
A coyote howls amidst the blackscreen
of the woods as unknown silhouettes
crawl on earth's crust ,
rainstorm ramming on muddy soil.
The cry of doom threatens each being
when the monstrous hour screeches
to gather a crew of newborns
and within every vomitting breath ,
weak infants tumble over an abyss
of carnage... without resistance.
Mothers wail, yet sharp hands
blackened by thorny nails
grip the fresh bellv of kohl twilight --
Nearer and nearer
hooded spirits so humongous descend ...
their green eyes breaking the window chain,
moving closer for a more macabre feast
while babes wiggle like worms :
I turn the screen off in a dark, dark foyer
my heart throbbing in throes of angst,
hurrying to view if my young son
lays on his crib... dreamily asleep;
my mind wrapped in thrall... where is he?
As the sunray's beam ~ through my sunroom shades
And the warmth of summer ~ slowly fades
My old heart soothes ~ when flowers bloom
And newborns exit ~ mother's wombs
Songbirds singing ~ in backyard baths
Children playing ~ out bursting laughs
Ocean's beaches ~ morning boat rides
Swimming, fishing ~ on moonlit tides
Four or "Fore" ~ an eighteen hole
The groundhog's call ~ bless his soul
His tale a myth ~ his truth be told
Summer's here ~ lo and behold
Priceless moments ~ in summer's sun
Love it, enjoy it ~ so much fun
Summer season ~ I do adore
If I were god ~ I'd give us more
Form:
...oooOOO Tears of Gold OOOooo...
Prickling hot glistening tears from the eyes above
Fall in little rivulets round the nose out of pain, thoughts or love
Hot tears roll down the cheeks cooling as they fall
Salty on the lips they pass they don’t stall.
Tears of pain, tears for the dead, tears for the dying
Tears for the newborns the weddings and tears for the sighing.
Tears that roll onto the bared chest with arms open wide
Giving comfort and strength as they try to stem the tide
Tears for the fears unrealised but real
Tears for those lost or that’s how they feel
Tears that flow for those we have not met
They need our tears but they will not know it and yet
They may feel our tears shed for them all
Tears shed out of pity or love they can fall
Tears for the free who think they are not worth it
Tears for the captives that do not deserve it
My tears are falling without knowing why
But the tears that are golden never run dry
They run for the love of all human kind
Wishing and hoping the deserving will find
Some one to bare their chest for them all
And comfort them as their own tears do fall.
Daily grind or daily find
Choose wisely my friend
Same oh same oh, never mind
Day drags on, it never ends
Daily grind means you have forgotten
How much fun life can truly be
Daily find shows you definitely have not
Searching for a newer way to see
Each person you meet along your way
Is there to help eliminate your boredom Blue
What you do to meet these friends today
Is truthfully solely up to you
So get out of your rut and go help someone
Every hospital needs a lover to cuddle newborns
Enabling others to succeed is a world of fun,
Every school needs tutors, ones without horns
Someone is waiting, hoping you will find them and help.
Remember the last time you did something new?
Maybe a tiny fish is entwined six feet from you in fishing line and kelp.
I am going to start something fresh today. How about you?
Dear Inhabitants
We visited you from distant stars
Only thirty - three light years beyond
We were sent to explore your nature
To see if we'd all get along
Your planet sure was beautiful
Green grass and crystal blue seas
There were beasts and birds of color
And some that roamed so free
But much to our amazement
What took us by such surprise
Is the hate for your own species
We witnessed in your eyes
We watched you kill each other
And what we thought quite odd
You would try to justify your acts
All in the name of your God
We watched you end your newborns lives
On a whim without a care
And we were shocked by all the blatant greed
And your lack of will to share
So we came to a decision
Mostly because of our own fears
Of what you would do to strangers
So we're getting the hell outta here.
My favorite pet was Susie the goat
who had the softest pure white coat
We purchased her when she was in kid
the newborns copied what Susie did
They devoured the grass, each on a tether
but stayed in the shed in inclement weather
Susie's favorite food was ripe bananas
but she'd nibble the washing, even pa's pyjamas!
She gave us many pints of sweet goats milk
which was creamy white and smooth as silk
It's been many years since I lost my pet
Susie was a birthday gift I'll never forget!
*****We lived on a small holding and I asked for a goat for my 13th birthday****
Write a poem about your favorite pet living or not poetry contest
Sponsor Regina Riddle
10/10/19
The moon illuminated the scenery of crisis
Leaving my hands on my sweating face, as my eyes fade in hypnosis.
I see life at a glance,
Sweet and bitter
Lost in a trance
Of flowers with butter
Awoken to the real world by rifles, bombs, commotion, sounds and drones
The strikes of soldiers, the screams of newborns
Many torn apart by anger at dawning
Streets full of blood, wails and yawning
Buried deep, choked in silence
I took to my eels, pacing the pavement blindly in turbulence.
My gun on me, bullets for safety
Still life reads continuously
I hope I see the moonlight again
Not from this cave, but out there, freely drinking champagne
With no nuclear shots but fireworks in Ukraine again
In the gist of the Jester
The jiggle doesn't match the jangle
The tester bangle is not at the right angle
For the name tag should be hanging on Esther
Three cribs over in the newborns you'll find her
By the ancestor of the jester called Sylvester
He's at 180 degrees to the kid named Lester
Just to fester the find of the whole manifesto
Of this ridiculous idea about the bangle
On Me not Esther who had the jangle
From the bidding of the ancestor of the Jester
Named Sylvester at 180 degrees to Lester
Because Dear God my name is Ralph!!
Picture #1
Written 5-25-19
"Baby Face - Whats You Thinkin"
James Edward Lee, Sr.