Long Witty Poems
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it seems …
like yesterday
and it seems like forever …
I can see them clearly
I can feel the soft wrinkles of skin
her little hands -
clutching the round disc
skin as thin as tissue paper
veins winding their purple-ish way
across bone and tendon
not always so delicate …
I think of all the miracles those small
appendages worked -
all the wonders taken part and witnessed
many times for the benefit of my
own rather undeserving hide …
almost obsequious in their regard
(when it came to me, anyway)
unspoken, that bond
since before time,
at least in my awareness of it
and that alliance has been my salvation
more times than I can
put number to …
that amazing woman -
small in stature, yet anything BUT in
energy and spirit -
saw the activity of her sweet hands shrink with
her height and strength
until she could no longer perform all
but the simplest of tasks …
oh, her mind stayed as clear as a glacial rill,
sharp and witty and creative
and the spark in her eyes
always shined bright
but moons and miles took their toll
and I became her legs and
arms and ears …
it was a job that blessed me
beyond imagination
and one I see now that she
trained me for …
so …
while her small hands came to lack the
vigor for most daily tasks
she could still press the call button on
the little disk that hung around her
neck like a pendant …
it was ME on the other end, you see
as our unspoken bond had become a very
vital electronic one …
I didn’t give that button much thought, really
until one night I was putting her to bed
and she grabbed my arm with one hand,
grasped her call disc with the other,
looked deep into my gaze
and said to me …
“I always keep this close to my heart,
because I know that whenever I press it,
my angel … will come”
now …
those little hands are but memory
(tho I held them ‘til the warmth was gone
then lay them upon her) …
but I keep that buzzer near me
for it means so much more than I can express
and sometimes I press it,
(as silly as that may seem)
sometimes I press it … and pray -
I pray even harder than I prayed when
I was faithful …
but nothing happens
there is no sound
and no one ever comes
for SHE was the angel …
and I …
was the needy one.
* For the “Seems Like Yesterday” Poetry Contest sponsored by
judge/sponsor Mystic Rose Rose. *
WHAT'S GOING ON
The things going on in our families,
The things going on in industry,
The things going on in politics,
The things going on just make me sick.
Most folks don't see what's happening.
They can't seem to see what the future brings.
Our music, our culture, our kids and our schools,
They're changing it all as we sit here like fools.
The things we allow and the things we ignore,
Will kill us at length like malignant sores.
They're trying to kill off our ethnic pride,
And pride in our country has all but just died.
We hang head in shame when they mention our God,
We apologize for being Christian clods.
We defend with a vengeance the idols brought here,
Reminding each other that their faith is dear.
While allowance is made for strange cultures and faiths,
Our own God and culture's pushed back, loses face.
We sure have been lucky God's so full of Grace,
And has waited so long to put things back in place.
Our country was founded on God's good promise,
And no we treat Him like some obscure premise.
Some think it's so cool to insult God Almighty,
They think they're so witty, so with it, so fiesty;
But soon they will sing a whole different tune,
When the seeds that they've sown have all come to bloom.
When they've all lost their freedom and there's nowhere to turn,
And they see when they die for indifference they'll burn.
When they finally see there's a Heaven and Hell,
And all of these changes were their warning bell.
When they see the cost of their wicked ways,
And it all comes to pass at The End of Days.
Judy Ball
"Let the one who does wrong still do wrong, and let the one who is filthy still be
filthy; and let the one who is righteous still practice righteousness, and let the one
who is holy still keep himself holy.
Behold, I am coming quickly and My reward is with Me to render to every man
according to what he has done.
I am The Alpha and The Omega, The Beginning and The End.
Blessed are those who wash their robes that they may have the right to The Tree of
Life and may enter the gates into The City."
Revelation 22:11-14 "
Pay Day is going to be a blessing for some and a curse to others.
What's it going to be to you?
No bull in the proverbial china shop
but of the astrological skies
you’d ride bareback upon the animal
assured by its strength and muscular form
Ruled by Venus and of the second house
A feminine introvert or negative sign
A lover of all things nature and natural
Earth, loyal and faithful but needs stability
Although stubborn enough to charge at one disturbing the peace
Fulfilling the senses with beauty
Neck and throat sensitive and strong (aim affection here!)
Homely content, liking the comforts of life
Attracted to material things in simplest form
although from senses – tactile or pleasing to eye
Naturally practical likes comfortable space for home and work
Food clothes music and linen of importance
for ‘things’ are of value, money and those not materialistic
Sensation more important than feelings and thought
A Taurean can appear boring to others
Practical and sensible in approach
Basing life on the real not imagined
Not willing to take unecessary risk
nor put foundations that are solid in jeopardy
Happy with stability and simplicity so long as functional
Not to be distracted and not exceptionally clever
You get to where you want to be through determination
Always needing the tools to get back to basics and build
A feminine introvert or negative sign
Life is good, ruled by Venus sensual and simple
In Venus Taurus is about physical and idealistic love, arts and beauty
Patient, reliable warmhearted and caring nature
One determined and persistant, a creative, placid creature
Needs watch health especially throat, repiratory, abscess and rheumatism
Stubborness and inflexibility can sometimes be issue
Possessive and relentlessness yet loving
Law abiding and somewhat hostile with change
Witty and practical, faithful and generous to friends
More than averagely loving and very self-conscious
Fixed in opinion down to experience and acceptable patterns
Steadfast, just and firm when faced with difficulty
These are not afraid of dirty hands nor shy of hard work
At best in positions of trust and responsibility
Strength is sensible outlook on life
Weakness of being unable to accept less than you can achieve
Seeing is believing
and because the feet are firmly on the ground
others will come to this sign for advice
as they plod along taking only what is needed to survive
What’s a lovely girl like you doing in a dump like this.
I own it.
That course I took is working well.
Was that the diplomatic course.
It was, have you been on it.
Have I asked you any stupid questions.
Not yet, but give it time.
Ask me another question.
What’s your name.
Sonya.
You’re kidding, did your parents not like you.
Did you actually attend that course?
Well, i sort of started the online application, but this **** site popped up, and I got distracted.
Did anything else pop up.
That’s quite witty, Sonya.
It wasn’t meant to be. I was meaning, did any religious sites pop up.
Well, they do say God works in mysterious ways. So I’m thinking he came through as busty Bertha from Berlin.
Are you a bit rusty chatting up women?
Well, I have just come out of a long term relationship.
Sorry to hear that, how long were you together.
A week.
Wish I hadn’t asked now. Was that a full week.
Well, a week is a week.
Not necessarily, it might have been Saturday, Sunday.
I suppose so.
So was it.
No, it was Wednesday, Saturday.
So technically it was four days.
If you want to be pedantic about it.
What about your relationship before that.
Eight days.
What’s your longest relationship.
Three weeks.
That must have seemed like a marriage to you.
Actually, my wife died tragically.
I’m really sorry, that was insensitive of me.
Only kidding, Sonya, she ran off with the window cleaner. The windows have never recovered.
My God, you’re a train wreck.
You want to be on that train, don’t you, Sonya.
I do, I actually want to go out with you. Why the hell do I want to go out with you.
Well Sonya, if you don’t go out with me. Then one fine day you’ll marry this boring guy, and I’ll be at the back of your mind.
But in my mind, I’ve already dumped you.
Not necessarily Sonya, this could be a match made in heaven.
It won't be, I’ve already known you five minutes, and already you’re doing my head in.
Well that is a sort of relationship, is it not.
I suppose so. I don’t even know your name.
It’s Paul.
Paul, did your parents not like you.
Do you see what you did there, Sonya?
OMG, I’ve become you, how the hell did that happen.
I’m not sure Sonya, maybe we shouldn’t go out together.
No, we must, it’s like I need to go out with you for my sanity’s sake.
Okay Sonya, pick you up at eight tomorrow night...
Exposure
All the pretence of innocence
The rules that one invents
Laws that must be seen to be
Beyond the reach of devilry
Those in power can circumvent
As they like, with full intent
Legal eagles can but try
To keep your vision from the lie
All in all I wonder when
We'll truly have our freedom again
Twisted knots of red tape can
Imprison every once free man
Number six once held the key
The prisoner seen in the sixties
Enigmatic though he may have been
His story soon exposed the dream
Freedom is so rare indeed
I ponder if we can succeed
The papers headlines cry out loud
As if they could be truly proud
But nearly all are but a scam
Or spin made by some witty man
Lies they tell us day by day
No wonder many kneel and pray
And though they tell us vote for me
The end result will plainly be
Within their rules so we can play
At democracy but still lose the day
For freedom, truth and all that's fair
Are lost to men who really care
The sails are rigged to the systems needs
And we'll all be subject to their deeds
Evidence of this I have found
Is very common all around
In daily life the taxmans strength
Is way beyond the rules he bent
A quota for all spheres within
The scope of all the suits who sin
Against the public, the underlings
Those like us that like to sing
No matter what we say or do
They find some plot to take from you
An extra tax, a fine or worse
Small wonder many learn to curse
Those that stand before the judge
And spoil the truth to earn a grudge
A grudge that if you can't escape
Will trap you in the coils of hate
In blue and white they stand and say
This is what they saw that day
If justice can't be had for all
Then democracy is bound to fall
For only when we can truly see
The end to all kinds of tyranny
Will Castros and Mugabes flee
Instead of grinding you and me
When Idi fled Ugangden lands
His shelter was in desert lands
Where oil wealth grants the right to rule
To very few, that were sent to school
Within our own society
Supposedly land of the free
But once back home they have the right
To strike your hands off if they like
Suffice to say we still can write
But perchance we may awake one night
To find the rules have been changed again
Our only freedom's within our brain
©Rhumour
April 9th 2008
My Sin City seems to be lustful and so darn pretty
Made me feel pity and I’m shameful honestly
You’re so witty in your confidence genuinely
It makes me feel ty that you’re gone entirely
Stars appear
Without a fear
Without a tear
Exhausted as hell
In this lonesome cell
Inside my lonely shell
Going pell-mell —
Does it ring a bell?
Exhausted as hell
Can’t you tell?
I’m under a dirty, little spell
While I’m listening to Adele
Does it ring a bell? Ring a bell?
Paranoia got the best of me
I’m showing you how to save me please
Insomnia got to be a test to beat
I’m showing you on my knees, on my knees
I’ve been incomplete upon my feet
Can’t you tell
That I’m exhausted as hell?
Pennies for your thoughts, my thoughts
What about dollar bills for your thoughts?
What about quarters of shamelessness?
What about you get rid of my loneliness?
Stars appear
Without a fear
Without a tear
Exhausted as hell
In this lonesome cell
Inside my lonely shell
Going pell-mell —
Does it ring a bell?
Exhausted as hell
Can’t you tell?
I’m under a dirty, little spell
While I’m listening to Adele
Does it ring a bell? Ring a bell?
Paranoia got the best of me
I’m showing you how to save me please
Insomnia got to be a test to beat
I’m showing you on my knees, on my knees
I’ve been incomplete upon my feet
Can’t you tell
That I’m exhausted as hell?
Exhausted as hell
In this lonesome cell
Inside my lonely shell
Going pell-mell —
Does it ring a bell?
Exhausted as hell
Can’t you tell?
I’m under a dirty, little spell
While I’m listening to Adele
Does it ring a bell? Ring a bell?
Paranoia got the best of me
I’m showing you how to save me please
Insomnia got to be a test to beat
I’m showing you on my knees, on my knees
I’ve been incomplete upon my feet
Can’t you tell
That I’m exhausted as hell?
I’m so driven insane on another rowdy lane
Happiness hit the fan and turned into sadness
Your love is as sweet as precious sugar cane
Madness suddenly tore me apart regardless
I’m exhausted because I’m tired of fighting back these tribulant tears
I’m exhausted because I’m fatigued of building up walls against my fears
I’m exhausted with utmost dread
Let’s fill me up with gladness instead
Thank You, God, for being there
When life can get rather unfair
Written with admiration for Tom Cunningham ~ a gentle poet
maligned by one who really casts an aura of darkness
My smile is genuine and reaches to my eyes.
I do not wear a mask, nor a cloak of disguise
and I post poetry in my given Christian name.
From the hand of one it was written in a claim
that I cast shadows of dark energy around me.
Should I assume that I'm thought of as beastly?
Someone thinks that my spirit has gone awry.
I have to shake my head in disbelief as I decry,
"If you liken me to a sinister, malevolent being
I would ask what movies have you been seeing?"
Call me rude names if that makes you feel witty,
but each shines a gleaming light on your lubricity.
I'm not insulted by the sticks and stones thrown,
nor do I write anything that I would ever bemoan.
I will champion myself, my friends and my nation,
never seeking battle, nor in fear of confrontation.
I am not a troll, a gang member, or wolf in a pack,
so don't falsely accuse me. I won't take your flack.
There is no darkness surrounding my aura, I'm sure.
It may be that your malicious thoughts are impure.
You struggle with defining what's right from wrong.
Is there anyone with whom you can get along?
Friendships are important and you would be wise
to recall that poets should be a coalition of allies.
You're entitled to your opinions, and I am to mine,
but if they are different, don't moo like a bovine.
"Spiteful words," you said, my friends and I write.
Well, in this case I'll say you're absolutely right.
I've been told that rebuttals are a waste of my ink
but not a drop is wasted if it makes people think.
Think of the insult to a poet belittled by another.
One who treats everyone as a sister and brother.
Tom wrote of the bloodbath Putin draws in Ukraine
then selfish comments were made that left a stain
on his words that were written to ring out in truth.
Don't sling mud on other poet's by throwing a stone.
Give voice to your beliefs. Write one of your own.
And now, you're thinking, "You just slung mud."
Yes, I did, in hopes that it will land with a thud.
I don't relish penning negative lines of contention,
but sometimes things are in need of attention.
I'd rather write about Santa and Christmas cheer,
than calling out snide people who taunt and jeer.
See this girl in the painting, this skinny girl
working on a puzzle at the bottom of the stairs.
With big rimmed glasses and her plain brown hair,
she’s an ordinary girl, with nothing seeming special.
Now see this girl. . . really SEE this girl.
At age 12, she’s just been fitted with new glasses -
They are black horn-rimmed - an utter disappointment
in the life of a young girl.
Some guys now call her four-eyes, and they don’t even notice
the beauty of her light green eyes and
long lush lashes behind those big-framed glasses.
But still she likes to fantasize, and in her dreams
she’s idolized by every boy she likes.
Always having wanted to be part of the “in” crowd,
she was a girl that struggled for popularity.
However, she’s been learning of another way to be!
Seeking out girls more like her, she hardly has to try
to fit in with her new friends. And now she’s much less shy.
With fun new friends, she is witty. She makes them laugh.
She’s even feeling pretty, wearing lipstick frosty pink.
She’s discovered she is smart in all her classes.
This girl who now is wearing black rimmed glasses!
She gets into the Glee Club, even sings on PBS!
With her athleticism, she also has success.
She makes Top Twelve in tryouts for cheerleading.
And though the student body does not vote her through,
she’ll soon get over it. She’s blossoming!
The glasses she will change for contact lenses,
and she does not know it yet,
but soon enough - a number of boyfriends she will get!
Also years of dance lessons and being in recitals
has boosted her self confidence.
Both her body and her spirit are transforming!
See the girl in the painting; a puzzle she assembles.
She does not know that one day
her mind will be on puzzles of a very different kind:
She will be assembling many words inside her mind,
and she will be partaking in an art called poetry.
I know all this because
the girl inside that painting - that ordinary girl -
is the one I used to be.
Based on the painting "Assembling the Pieces"
from Contemporary Figurative Artiste Stephanie Deshpande
for the Contemporary Free Rhyme Contest of Cyndi MacMillan
I hope you will see the painting at this link. When I saw the girl, I was
struck by how much it looked like me as a young girl: http://www.stephaniedeshpande.com/porfolio/
Just by chance once I got acquainted
with a Bengali Writer and Novelist in a festival.
I had special admiration about his writings
which I had gone through beforehand .
He was a very handsome guy running in mid forty.
On interaction I was simply charmed with his orating power.
I developed a feeling like Hero Worship ,
though I was in late thirty then.
As a witty talker he drew my attraction,
but on throw of every third sentence
he was boasting of his writings.
It was irritating, making me feel inferior to him.
Actually his approach pricked my ego.
I am a Mathematician acting as Lecturer
and is satisfied on that identity.
I had never tried to write,
but I was successful in my chosen career.
He took initiative to make my ten- year old daughter,
subscriber of a leading monthly children’s magazine.
Later I started thinking ‘Is writing a big deal?’
Let me try.
My common sense predicted,
fields of stories and poems are too crowded to compete.
So I composed two scientific topics
and sent one to a leading Bengali newspaper
and other to the children magazine which was coming
in my daughter’s name.
Astonishingly , News Paper published my feature on fifteenth day.
Second topic came up on next issue of renowned Children Magazine.
That was the start.
Spectrum went wider broader.
Features on social aspects, scientific articles, fictions, poems
came up in series.
My story and drama got opportunity to get telecast.
All India Radio welcomed me as Talker.
Channel of writing Text Books is opened.
Acted as Editor of a Bengali Science Magazine.
I turned a professional writer.
Later formed team to stage drama on own script.
Life changed : New career started.
Activities in multiple channels flourished .
I’d like too invite all to be my guest
a dine of mindfulness and rhyme digest
a week of conflict now victory blessed
standing united to silence a pest
Since the last time you heard from me I was banned again
ran my mouth and pen and stand condemned
taking a time out as the site suspended
yet always polite to poets I’ve befriended
In my lifetime of few consistences
a sucker for trouble
not designed for resistance
never stuck in a bubble
don’t run nor crumble
my back’s up I stand tall
I’m one for the rumble
not decided but natural
I’m an alpha with a non fictional reaction
I can’t stray from friction I give it back to ‘em
They flint
I flame
retardants
don’t reign
Even with intense insistence I’m risky
back and forth witty hits get me frisky
I’m Jack Daniels confrontation’s whiskey
and as it ascends force
whistling me wolf
I submit my thoughts
with all above board
but as the war gets me bored
within my core recycled and restored
enemy amo pours out below par
firing missiles I go to far
through lost remorse
this one track horse
gallops the course
with overwhelming force
only to fail care and I fall where I fell before
Standing up squarely
Cus nobody scares me
then punished unfairly
cus I ain’t no fairy
Deemed out of line
as I mouth my mind
blow for blow with swines
or write down rhymes
I’ve got one finger for sign language
knowing 5 fold in flight damage
You’re not the first to run me down
I’m not one to get the boys around
“I know a lot of people” not my threat
get me vexed I come direct
Others rely on their made up crew
not me though mate I come straight for you
One minute you’re coming calling me chump
the next minute running Forest Gump
I’ve never experienced intimidated slumps
the altercation ignition leads me to jump
start the motor ticks, over being a victim
insults thrown deflect don’t sink in
get thrown back with hurt inflicting
stand his ground does Nick Trim
Will call us HMS Victory and him the birds eye on a French deck,
one cannon ball later he’s drenched in a shipwreck
So thanks to the soupers standing with me,
the victory with us not he,
again I say soupers standing with me
are the ones standing victoriously