Long Widowers Poems
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(Yes, title is from Gershwin's, "Rhapsody in Blue"
What is this thing, called, rhapsody, anyway!
A feeling of intense pleasure, happiness or joy.
I've noticed some here think it's only when you h
ave a husband,...l.lthen can you only enjoy?
That and only that, makes your heart sway?
Bragging on having a husband like a Mercedes-Benz?
There are tons of widows and widowers here!
Or are you so lost in a gold ring and husband near?
Husbands do die, and then from whence will come your
happiness and cheer.
On getting a new one to fill your forlorn poetic landscape,
On owning his masculine gear?
On being a new bride again with another cake?
This is so droll, boring and hum-de-dum.
If you cannot be happy alone, then I am sorry for you!
Completed beings,need not be married to experience
pleasure.
Nor muck about finding a man of their own to treasure.
Fulfilled beings does not mean, "two.".
~~IT MEANS YOU ARE HAPPY WITH BEING YOU~~
If,of yourself, happiness you cannot create,
My deepest condolences, if that be your sorrow!
That you can only find happiness and love if you have a
husband tomorrow.
So do not insult poets who intentionally have no mate.
They too love life~ but prefer personal freedom's gate!
4/28/2021
I could not find categories for this so I chose inspiration.
Respecting others, is another.
Source of Poem.
A comment by another poet to me which has been deleted.
He never loved her and yet her breath of life is gone she laid there yes he kissed her yet he still had his life but yet put asunder he did wonder Could have been different can he have not been put to shame yet he didn't even know her spiritual name
She is still not breathing yet she lays there covered in her Daddy's dress this man yet still stands he sheds a tear he believes in her but yet she lays there at rest
Due somber times yet in summertime he awakens in the heat he looks around him and he finds that the soles of his feet grass covered grounds he realizes now she's below but that's not her true essence for her Spirit Soul has risen and now in the presents of the Lord
She was only known to him let it be who's him yet through pain and grief he sighs he cries he says goodbye to the one who took on his name
Yet lastly is it truly over because his breath is still his he can't even remember the last time he felt her breath caressing surrounding him so he endeavors do not remember her sweet message but this is my message to the widowers you must confess this God has taken his daughter back and she's awake in his arms not asleep nor at rest she is with her father now for eternity and she leaves with you God bless
2/6/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2022
As a non-golfing husband I revel at tales
Of sunshine filled days chasing small balls,
Some in the rough others in sand,
All these brave girls fighting nature's pitfalls.
I hear of the times the flock of wild ducks
Hindered a drive that was perfectly hit,
And what of those trees that magically moved
With a subsequent shout 'I just want to quit'.
But then I'm regaled with feats of great skill
Such as the time a Birdie was made,
Out comes the flask, big glugs all around,
Magical moments that no-one would trade.
They say Golf's a passion a lifelong pursuit,
One day may be heaven the other pure hell,
Neither cool mornings nor that full midday heat,
Apparently stops that will to excel.
Yet there's one thing I notice each week,
Yes the real pleasure from playing the game
And what's not to like from those magical views
But without one's good friends the day's not the same.
So to all poor Golf widowers awoken by shrilling alarms,
Then never quite knowing what time we'll see our fair brides,
There's a much higher calling we can but embrace,
'Happy wife happy life' the true gift this pastime provides.
How has it dawn on us so soon when we hadn’t even achieved much?
Why has the marketplace ceased to buy and sell so scanty the streets wither away
The clouds becomes more darkened as smokes ascend randomly our fields are on fire
We can feel the rain but it has lost its coldness
I hear more voices than I usually heard
This time of crying and wailing rather than chatting and hailing
Voices
chanting and singing songs of war
Dust and gun powders like fog fill the air,
with great rumble the battle rages
The long night tarry on nobody has awakened
Some privileged to pass on to the other side
Total transmission from what we see now
Carcasses litter the streets as we run from pillar to post
Yet not so sure where the lot may fall
Great assets lost in hot zones, they shouldn’t have taken the guns,
Gravesides more frequent than bedsides
When did we become such serious foes?
That tears can’t seem to mend?
We let our children die by our own hands and still squeeze our sorry faces
How valuable is this trophy, hope it’s worth the pains we are feeling now?
We match in battalions, onward we go
Faces brimming with boldness and courage,
Though fear still takes its partition
We leave behind loved ones not so sure,
like walking into the lions cave to kill or be killed
Jumping over strip wires, nice try
Only to step on landmines
A time to team up with death taking from one end
While it continues from the other side in its own way
Orphans, widows and widowers we make at will that which we had once pitied
What caused this sudden change?
So unfortunate many fighting ignorantly yet arrogantly
Now we pull down our once fancied walls to build more refugee camps and fill them
We overstretching science and make of men expendables
A time we show how much we can take
What we depict now is wickedness rather than strength
In this game
Winners are
Always
Rude
"War! What is it good for? Absolutely nothing." "There has never been a good war nor a bad peace." Quotations which held true for two separate generations. Nations declare war to increase their territorially expanse into other nations where it does not belong. They caste their covetous and greedy eyes upon rich natural resources. Why bother to trade with other countries?
When aggressive nations can snatch and grab their ill gotten gains. Trade routes and access to water ways. Nations were doing this before the beginning of recorded history. Before tribal groups organized themselves.
Focusing our attention spans. Backwards into the first Old Testament Biblical book of the Bible, Genesis. When Cain took a stone and killed his brother Abel, because he was jealous and filled with wrath. And people have been killing each other and declaring war ever since.
Warfare only provides an aggressive no win solutions to preexisting premediated circumstances'. Frequently spiraling rapidly out of the control of the waring nations. Resulting in massive genocide! Famine! Pestilences! World wide epidemics'! Why not read the last book of the New Testament Bible, The book of Revelations for yourselves? All warfare succeeds in accomplishing is "making the devil laugh." And widowers, widows, and orphans travail!
The Bible predicts the Psalm 83 middle eastern war. The Gog and Magog war mentioned in the Old Testament Book of the Bible, The book of Ezekiel. And finally the Battle of Armageddon mentioned in the book of Revelations.
The second coming of Jesus Christ to the earth, will occur at the sounding of the 7th trumpet. He will be riding a white stallion, and will have an escort service. The heavenly angels and the heavenly saints will be accompanying him. Both the False Prophet and the False Christ will be cast alive into the Lake of Fire! Satan, his fallen angels, demons and condemned mankind will be
joining him one thousand years later!
The Holy Trinity, the heavenly angels and saints. Both during the church age of trace and Tribulation saints will live to see. The one thousand year reign of Jesus Christ! The tribulation saints only will be able to reproduce themselves.
Love in Christ Jesus!
Roxanne Lea Dubarry
Roxy Lea 1954
Roxy 1954/ October Country
January 30, 2020
Dreamscape
Fright night echoes sounds clink tapped chalices,
Amidst caused bruised concoctions aplenty,
Dons alehouse barmaids geniality,
Fair distance yonder gates of said palaces.
Camaraderie placates fools, nightfalls,
Host chambered snores all else unpleasantries,
Wenches clear tables its swill and varies,
Whilst yon night watchman hollers hourly calls.
The stoic slept welcomes twilight approach,
Chasten slumberous surrenders dream world,
Muscled manliness stretches stints winnowed,
Mother swoon child tender desire encroach.
Abandon heads sheath will-o'-the-wisp state,
Goliath behemoths failure foiled wake,
Marooned upon drifts angels blissful break,
The golden book said, chapter, verse bears weight.
Widows paired widowers weep tears befalls,
E'er so oft descends expecting rose cheeks,
Point bold repeats shared long days spells short weeks,
Begs one's heart fair soft sweet exchange recalls.
Voiceless notes unfurl rare unwritten soul,
Strengthen brave quill effects sweet passages,
Pledge remembrance weigh all averages,
Stirs careful measure of aged well-sought goal.
Escapes upon winged flight anointed dove,
Glissades white cloud that welcomes warm dawning,
Expecting eyes embrace forth hours thawing,
Borne souls board morns star golden sleigh brought love.
2020 February 08
*Honorable Mention*
STRAND SELECT H,any form ,any theme
~~Brian Strand
We killed insects in our house without any remorse
We swept clean anthills in our garden without any afterthought
We trampled on insects while walking
We cut trees, made many homeless
We ventured into forests, killed for flimsy reasons
We dumped pollutants in the house of aquatic animals
We took our boats and shipped over their house
We put nets, caught them in large numbers, killed many everyday
Air, home to many microscopic creatures, no longer livable
Forest, home to many reduced to a fraction of what they were
Trees, home to birds and insects dwindling
Million lives gone
Families destroyed,
many orphans, many widows,
many widowers struggling all alone
We were the cause of many deaths
We rendered many homeless
Did we cry all these years?
No! We didn't!
We never bothered
Not a word we spoke
We displayed our selfishness, our strength
Now when humans are dying, we are raising a big hue and cry
They would have felt the same all these years
Their situation exactly like ours now
We are getting back the results of our own actions!
That is the law of nature
We are the cause of it all
If we still do not correct ourselves,
If we still do not respect the rights of all living creatures to live,
Then we are not worthy of being called humans
10.95.2021
"Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap." Bible
little boys playing in the clay road
picking up turtles that fly in the wind
run, run away from the scary old widowers
or you might never be a boy again!
we can only be boys for a little longer
so let’s take our cheer and carry it on
as the great warrior Atreus did
when he gave his life for victory
we’re in Rome, with Kalsus and Andeus
and all of our friends from the east and the west
we are here, with this one chance to say
“we are here, we cheer, to hoping the words here last”
for we are the last of our kind to be here
and we don’t know what comes after
but we don’t give in to fear
and we hope to give you laughter
forever and ever
we are the sons of a generation
that will never be seen again
so laugh until the bitter end
hold the name of the Empire
in the hearts of all who hear
and remember, always remember!
Nothing comes from nothing!
So we will never die!
Fell out of a limousine
Drunk out of mind
Spoiled
Filthy rich
Child
In time
He loved
All his toys
Then a woman
Showed him other joys
Sweet, just close your eyes
On champagne dreams
Wearing butlers shined black laced shoes
Away they went
From here to the moon
In love, their passion heaven sent
Taking the train ride of ones life
Bubble baths, there is no more strife
Pleasures surround you everywhere
Magical is the feeling of loves truthful desires
Falling in, like two young doves
New York City bombed
Devastation lingers in the air
No more love stories
Only dead widows and widowers
As infants tears fall on rainy graves
Now I, Arthur
Alone
Cringe
Staring out my window
Ten in the night. The porch light flickers on, like a lighthouse in rural darkness. Healing begins with a door left open. An old lady at 90 sets the kettle to boil, chamomile steeping in amber pools of hope. The wooden sign leans against her window: Tea & Talk. Always Open to Anyone.
Seven nights of solitude. Cricket songs and empty chairs. Sometimes changing the world doesn't look like a movement. A cat winds between her ankles, purring questions into the cold night.
After a week, at ten in the night, footsteps are heard. A girl weeping, arms wrapped tight as winter coats wrapped around her broken dreams arrives. "Is this... real?” Someone to listen and offering Tea. The only currency that matters is presence. The old lady pours hot tea, with a smile of trust, warmth flowing from her heart to build hope and confidence, as she consoles the girl.
Desperate people finding solace come, one after another, now fifty. The space breathes with hopes, whispers confessions, sorrows, laughter and hope. Words are seeds….some fall on stone, others on fertile hearts. Truckers passing by with calloused hands cradle delicate cups. Widowers unfold photograph albums like prayer books. Teenagers flee late-night arguments, finding sanctuary in the old lady’s silent listening.
December blizzard is cold. Power lines snap like broken promises never to return. Shovels scrape against snow, lanterns bob through darkness. They won't let the place close. Community is not built….it is discovered. Solar lights on, generator humming, thermoses steaming. The warmest place in town glows with human constellation.
Spring arrives with its colourful glamour beautifully. Conversations spilling like wildflowers. Love multiplies when divided. Notes accumulate on old lady’s refrigerator, testimonies to the healing power of witnessed pain. A veteran sleeps through the night. A baby giggles for the first time. Someone chooses life over despair.
The movement spreads without manifesto or mission statement. Revolution sometimes whispers.
The heart's true home is where it dares to break open for all.
Ten PM chimes by Old lady,
warm light spills through winter dark,
tea steeps, door stays wide