09-12-2024
Being as unfaithful as Ashley Madison
That’s how I honestly feel when it comes to God
Who’s not like luggage which I can just jettison
Though the world at times tempt me to never applaud
Him it tantalises me endless draws me in
Like raindrops on spider’s web yet so bitter-sweet
I can’t deny myself this feeling which can spin
Me out of control making me think I’m complete
Caught up in this trap where I feel like flame exposed
In the wind struggling to stay lit and bright on site
I thought being in the dark no one sees me imposed
On me consistently afraid of how this Light
Tracks each move I make I’m like Eve in the garden
Ecstatic with this set-up where I always find
Myself in God’s mercy asking to be pardon
A perpetual sinner under His watch aligned
To go astray right away even if I do
Believe in God wholeheartedly with all my faith
The main challenge my flesh constantly puts me through
Trials and tribulations not once not twice not eighth
Time provided I’m cognizant of how I live
Under His radar forgiven every time I
Sin and sin and sin again and again He give
Me chance provided I repent and not just try
She developed a keen appreciation
For hotdogs, revered in the nation
Eaten during July 4th celebration
Fried chicken a close second of her faves
Eaten during veterans’ day near the graves
Of Civil War masters, who used to have slaves
What about ham, does Dolly eat ham too?
While working on guest list overdue
Madison might give you a clue
She will go down in history
Resourceful as a large oak tree
Of her talents we must agree
Giving her praise and acclaim
Hostess with the mostess was her aim
Dolly Madison is her name
Today, in Wisconsin, three children lost their lives.
The media of course pours on us, emotional jive!
I, personally, cannot imagine, such a heartbreaking loss.
In a school, no less, friends and parents bear the cost!
Mental illness is a bloody monstrous thief.
When neglected,……it causes endless grief!
Watch the screams to take guns away.
While the breath of innocents by other means.
No…no guns needed …no,none at all.
Young girls choked and raped.. no border, needed.at all?
Fentanyl came here flowing like rivers without any ration.
Add 1,500 last minute pardons, we will not have a nation!
12/16/2024
There were 4 beds, a mom, a dad, and a grandmother.
At first 4, but later on, there were 6 rooms.
There were 8 girls in a large household.
There were 4 boys and a dog named Jack.
There were plenty of toy guns for the boys,
but 8 dolls for the girls were never seen. Perhaps
there were 6 or maybe 7 at best but never more,
because at least one was lost and never came back.
That lost doll had a name like all the other dolls.
So, losing her was more than just plastics and cloth.
It was a most beautiful doll whose name was Madison.
Madison was a special gift from Grandmother Myrtle
to the youngest girl whose name was Mary, who never
was able to get over Madison's being lost. I must add
that no one was to blame for the loss of Madison.
Grandmother Myrtle replaced Madison and with teary eyes,
she handed the new doll to Mary. Of course, she and everyone
knew that there would never be another Madison. Everyone
loved Madison deeply, but because of the loss of Madison,
the entire household learned that Life is filled with losses,
but we learn to live with them and move on.
There are so many wonderful ways,
To describe you on any given day.
So, each letter is given a few words,
Expressing exactly who you are;
From the bottom of my heart.
Marvelous Miracle
Amazingly Artistic
Dazzling Dancer
Immensely Involved
Superb Sister
Observant One
Noticeably Natty
Radiant Ray
Outgoing Optimist
Gracious Girl
Enthusiastic Entertainer
Reliable Role-Model
Social Star
Who am I and what have I to gain
This I ponder walking to Madison Lane
Where my old grandmother's house still stands
Oh how memories twist like old rubber bands
Not much to it but I hold it sublime
Reminisce of a much happier place and time
Never have I in all these years
Walked through a house with many falling tears
This old abandoned house has a place in my heart
Even though day by day it falls apart
My love for this house will grow and grow
And when I leave my fruits will show
What have I now to gain
As I walk back home from Madison Lane
She's broken.
She just wanted her thoughts to be spoken.
For her words to mean something,
For her words to be affecting.
But she feels worthless.
Her dream was to become an actress,
to inspire others ti achieve their dreams,
but she had fallen in the streams.
She lost all of her hope,
having no way to cope.
She wakes up every morning,
ready to start acting.
She puts on her mask,
hoping for someone to ask,
hoping for someone to realize
how long this has been going on, and apologize.
Yet no one seems to care,
she feels like she shouldn't be there.
Since no one seems to notice her,
that is what she has inferred.
But then someone spoke up,
noticed how she was lost like a pup.
So they decided to help,
she first yelped.
For she never knew how to accept,
she only knew she wept.
Later, she saw light,
and shone bright.
She finally saw that she was someone,
not a no one,
but she meant something.
She was finally acknowledging
Her true beauty,
she found her true duty,
to help others,
and make things better.
MADISON SQUARE QUINTAIN
Wild-haired, gangly boy from Queens ,
Garfunkel, in his awkwardness and tallness,
Like a kitten dangling in a pair of blue jeans,
But purring pure harmonies, giving it his all-ness,
Reaching to the heights over Simon’s smallness.
Paul enthralls, picking a lick so pretty
In the darkness, our old friend,
Mellow music-poet with his home city
Crowd - and listeners and singers blend -
Will the li-de-li-li-de-li s never end?
The Boxer’s timeless rhythm begins :
True champs staying till the end of the fight,
New York City’s musical twins,
Filling the ring in Madison Square tonight
Till the cheering and clapping split the night.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Written 2 August 2011 by Sydney Peck for
Francine Roberts’s Contest “Hangin' in there”.
IN MADISON SQUARE
Only the sound of silence
As timeless Simon and Garfunkel begin
Singing in the Madison Square night
A reminder of post-911 defiance : The Boxer’s
Inspired tale of no surrender – he remains,
Beaten but undefeated. The art of survival.
Wild hair and unsure of his arm movements,
Art, in his awkwardness and tallness,
Like a kitten dangling in a pair of blue jeans,
But purring his heavenly harmonies,
Reaching to the heights as Simon drops to bass.
Paul creating magic on the guitar
In the darkness, our old friend,
Mellow music-poet in his home city.
Solidarity in the audience and me in middle,
Drinking it all in, savouring each metaphor and descant,
Till the li-de-li-li-de-li s ended and the
Cheering and clapping split the night.
Madison's poetry replays in my head, and she said, "Tag, you're it!"
My poetic wings will spread, so I'll be the pilot and she can sit in the cockpit!
With my wordplay, I'm taking her up, up, and away!
I want to be one with her DNA, and together she'll forever be my protege...
Let me show you my dear MS. Poe what has inspired the push of my pen.
My poetry is a love TKO, and my words will meld with you, skin to skin!
If I climb inside your brilliant mind, can I take a swim?
A rare jewel is hard to find, and our hearts are a synonym....
Ok let me look through your pretty brown eyes; but tell me what I will see?
I'll just use my creativity, and fantasize, giving you universal poetry!
Yes, do show me, 'the god's amongst men,' for I am king of all kings.
I'll make love to your mind with pad and pen, and comfort your skin with angelic wings!
You called "check," and said it was my move.
Here's a poetic hicky to your neck, and I pray you don't disapprove!
Physically your beauty, from one through ten, is eleven!
Yes momi you're a cutie, so ignore those other men, and I'll show you heaven!
*Re-tag you're it Madison!
The Corner of Wells and Madison
I know that if I ever
fall in the street
the way that man did,
in the middle of an intersection,
someone will mind.
But if unlike that man
I make it
to the other side,
scale the curb and
mount the sidewalk
and then fall,
no one will have to
drive around me.
There will be no extra noise.
There will be only the usual honking.
People walking by
will have to watch their step, true.
But this is Chicago:
No one can blame me for that.
Donal Mahoney
The heat hung on the spiders webs
tinsel from tree limbs
taunt between gargantuan boles
the golden hour lay garland on silken floss
with its intrepid arachnid host.
Dream weaver, fate Mother, Earth balancer
She dances.
A minuet brown bit suspending itself
between heaven and earth.
Across immense spans of grassy knolls
where the Cahokia sleep in the mounds of Kings.
She dances.
Dream weaver, fate Mother, Earth balancer
Centering the spinning Earth, the Cosmos…
harmonizing harp home of the Mother
caller of the four corners
She dances.
The country calls in waves of whispers
to the golden greens beneath your feet
As you dance a swirl to the sounds of birds
that grab your ears as they sing
She adores my laugh
and fears my history
But finds herself in the pieces
of a mirror that hangs above an empty bed
Empty of heart
Empty of desire
Empty of that void that hides what a soulmate can only see
without vision
without touch
without light
without her
Explain the taste that lingers upon my ears
and drips me wet upon a dry heart
with hope
with passion
with trust
with adoration
She adores my laugh
She adores my words
She adores my pain
She adores me
a me that needs her
a me that does love her
a me that is learning to like me
because of her
because of her heart
because of her desire
because of her laugh
I slip into a pallet of paint
that contains her
that envies no rainbow
that never washes clean or away
that is of a rare brilliance
She heals my damaged soul
and fades my hidden scars
beneath the glass gates
beneath the nervous smiles
beneath the unwilling goodbye
beneath the pain
My Madison does exist
The dry sand blends with her flesh
as I sink into that coffee cream fresh valley
that peeks beyond the safe beats of a bellybutton
tapping against the winds of me
Rain runs against the porcelain bottom
as she releases hidden sounds from her aching soul
that resist me through distance but shall fail
to the desire of our entwined chance in time
Related Poems