Hope hankering emissive forlorn wishes
Obvious foreseen conjecture
Presume presupposed wanton
Expectation propose forecast longing
10/6/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2021©
Categories:
presupposed, analogy, angst, hope,
Form: Acrostic
As it mingles within and by virtue of substance
relates to the air by the depth of its dance;
the smoke is persuaded to somehow pursue
the course of the breezes developed by chance.
On a journey through space, up a thread-bare stare,
encountering nothing by way of resistance;
the smoke gently glides on its presupposed mission
with nothing to measure the time but the distance.
Continually merging itself to its doom
the smoke on its partner relies
and the air borne of power does slowly consume
til the last of the smoke calmly dies.
And as I relate to the passage of time
and the dreams that I sloppily wear;
I see in myself, and my journey with life,
less smoke with each year and more air.
Categories:
presupposed, cancer, conflict, dance, death,
Form: Rhyme
A Couplet Of The Times
By: Miracle Man
7/11/2020
We now are living/existing in unprecedented times,
streets filled with looters and unchecked crimes.
Activist’s destroy statues that they deem offensive,
and this inevitably leads to a counteroffensive.
Covid-19 and protests are taking their toll,
and racism is on the tongue of each wretched soul.
Lost jobs and businesses are weekly being closed,
and things are much worse than most presupposed.
Our inability to stop time from destroying our wealth,
has an adverse effect on our mental health.
Evil minded people won’t allow hate’s improvement,
and daily some loud mouth starts another movement.
It seems that in this life we’ll never see peace,*
“cause the wheel that squeaks the loudest, always gets the grease”
*1 Thessalonians 5:3(KJV)
3 For when they shall say, Peace and safety; then sudden destruction cometh upon them, as travail upon a woman with child; and they shall not escape.
Categories:
presupposed, america, betrayal, future, happiness,
Form: Couplet
I scaled the heights
and crossed the genre over
Rock and Pointillism
Springstein and Seurat
on dotted i some critic cries
aloud echo canyoned schism
to each his own
we together bemoan
separation of our malaise
individuality's good
'long as it's understood
we're all different in artful ways
the beholder can only seize
on concepts predisposed to sight
the I's of art that you appease
each concept I hold despite
my own presupposed expertise
that much art leans toward contrite
or worse, tries not to displease
some need to be artfully polite
art is what you say it is
who am i to tell you
that your idea, your creation
is not worthy of the tag of "art"
so shake my sensibilities
shock my gentilities
move the foundation of my soul
make a hole, drop it in, make it whole
© Goode Guy 2011-08-23
I'm beholdin' to you...
Categories:
presupposed, art, inspirational, art, art,
Form: Free verse