The jig was up
and the seller got the shaft
as the fletcher (all a-quiver)
pricing feathers (more arrows for to craft)
saw the target total cost (legal tender)
as sky-high (yet altho' not immoral)
let fly and shot his bolt (at the vender)
which started quite the quirky quarrel
Quarrelsome neighbours are the worst
Rage bubbles and screams of obscenities escalated
~ Taken away in a hearse
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
Upstairs; a bed with sleeping teddy bears
Downstairs; a table and two chairs
His sighs
His lonely eyes
The dim silent room
The snow falling through the gloom
The reflection in the window
Stare back upon
The one who in anger bid her go
Lamenting the hours she's been gone
And the shouting that seemed so long ago
Even pride can no longer recall
what winds brought the storm
nor how deep the rainfall
Not even knowing if she’s safe and warm
Then the creaking door
The room awash in sudden cold
He waits no more
For the darkness to unfold
Her, in his rush to hold her
Their eyes meeting as he enfold
Her, and his unashamed tear
Ponders his disgrace
As he wipes the same tear from her face
Midst the rapture of love's embrace
In passion's haste things were said
For anger's sake
-now anger is dead
In both their hearts
Where love left smouldering erupt in flame
And cupids darts
Linger without blame
In their quiver
his cheeks dewy
His bottom lip aquiver
Serpentine artisan in Eden
Crafting a second creation
A molten piece of idol
By the dexterity
Of word of mouth.
Tongue lures ear
And then à tongue kiss
To the ear, both soulmates
Titillate the neurons of the body
Stir the impulse of all senses
All segued to Judas kiss.
Telepathist tool
Transmuting visions from pluto
To reality on earth.
Forked-tongue town crier
With cymbal and gong
Improvising a dissonance
Of glossolalic tales
To the age of gullible gullivers!
Ear, O hear!
In that gaping cavity
There lies lie lair
The sword of Damocles
Gliding and Churning honey gobs
From its cavity to founts of lies
In every public square.
Like the big lie of Hitler and Goebbels
To the holocaust.
Let not all thy senses,
Emotion, reason, and conscience
Trust her tongue!
Two hands beckon forth towards promise of their yearning hold
One deadly dark with beauties mark; the other a pale white gold
Both dance for me as they do sing in full display of light so bold
Twin voices ring and compete to bring their sister’s knees to fold.
In service my heart as it cries for love;
What shall I do I am in remorse mode;
Beating ever sweetly covered in blood;
Tangent dreams of ever falling implode;
Eyes catalyst broken in heartache blind;
Heart can't sight where my malignant head is;
Those screams of brazen swollen eyes inclined;
Heartbroken beating no wise appears gives;
Solace passionate joys flooding over;
Challenge burden promises sprung loveless
My heart beats of joy laugher full closure;
Promise to you together we shun less;
Ourselves let us excuse and unlearn this;
May we congregate come ad-lib let's kiss;
8/20/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2023©
9th place~ Placement in Contest
For No 1230. New Poem Only Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Poem Syllable Counter Results
Syllables Per Line: 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Lines: 17 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically: N/A
Total # Words: 97
They began to quarrel,
After he heard ‘Squirrel!’
Instead of Stan Scammel
And he called him ‘Rommel’:
“The Not-Strong Enamel”
Who could Hitler blackmail
While it was ‘Same Barrel!’
Then, they stopped The Quarrel,
When he heard ‘Becquerel’
A Laureate with a Laurel …
Quarrels from Nicknaming:
A Purposed Misnaming!
Who would such start claiming:
A hateful Misnomer;
KGB’s Informer
For OGB Omar …
A will is set up
So that
It is valid
So that no mischiefs
Will come in
So that no quarrels
Will arise
So that no snatch
Will happen
So that no court cases
Will be ushered in
So that the host
Will be always treated as a host
So that a fair share
Will be drafted
And so that
Money and wealth
Will be a blessing for all
Door
Slamming
Emotions
I heard a shout
And angry voices
Until calm was restored
Door opening gently now
All is well quarrel forgotten
Soft footsteps in the hall and on stairs
Then whispers of reconciliation.
Doors
Poetry Contest
Sponsored
by
Anthony Biaanco
Deadline 21/08/2021
Do not count the times my truant tongue spoke
As though counting spring lambs high on the hill!
Can a fire rage aflame with ash and oak
And not yield it's embers to the dawn's chill?
A sabre’s errant challenge to confront
With parochial Envy at its root
Now presented again, both dull and blunt
That turns, by parried defense, to be moot.
Again, with mirth, I engage thine outrage,
Though tire from its false theme of affront
As rote as the actor’s lines from his stage,
No more to win than the fox in the hunt.
Rest thy rage, it to mellow by the morn
To soften thy brow, no longer forlorn.
Together – he and I – him and me
We grow things in abundance
Green beans, tomatoes, squash
Okra, calves, chicks and pigs
Guineas and turkeys, some kittens
A puppy who is mostly grown
But never too old to play
Together – we – us – our
Hearts thrive on a world
Of abundance, plenty, wealth
In rich, black earth that gets
Nutrients from a downpour
Pounding the ground and bouncing
Drops off the rocky path
Together – he and I – him and me
We listen to friends who bicker
Consuming time with quarrels
Never thinking about how this dispute
Can grow, like our cucumbers
Vining their way from a short word
One weed, to something you can’t pull up
A vine that leaves you feeling
Lost, lonely, silent
Amid the beautiful blooms
That proceed the vegetable
And the tired ache that throbs
Inside a heart who is breaking
From the sorrow of squabbling
We co-operate or quarrel more?
Sometimes not this, and sometimes not that.
Lockdown, each faces this question sore.
Is there any option in the hat?
Sometimes not this, and sometimes not that.
Virus might catch us, out if we went.
Is there any option in the hat?
Have to sort out now, lest we ferment.
Virus might catch us, out if we went.
We will take turns to do the home work.
Have to sort out now, lest we ferment.
Set rules for default if one is jerk.
We will take turns to do the home work.
Lockdown, each faces this question sore.
Set rules for default if one is jerk.
We co-operate or quarrel more?
She sits there on a branch alone,
Along comes another, swish down with the swipe of his wing,
She fly’s quickly with a vengeance, swish through the branches,
To another tree she goes, mating season has come,
He sits there with all of his strength, she fights venomously not to be taken,
She fly’s again through the trees and he fly’s after her,
The quarrel has begun as he will fight to the end,
The nest is warm as he fly’s by and settles in,
She moves closer to him as he spreads his wing over her,
Lovers they become as he wins her heart,
Soon comes their offspring,
He patiently sits with his warmth,
Why she fly’s looking for worms to bring,
She takes her turn warming her nest,
They hatch with all their glory as they feed their young,
Soon the offspring will fly and we all will fly back north,
to come again in, Winter and Spring. A Lovers Quarrel it is.
They’d had a fight and he’d gone out for “air.”
Now he’d returned, a frown still on his face.
She knew him well and she did not fight fair!
She’d quickly guessed the way she would erase
his apprehensions. Now to set the scene
which would take place, there wasn’t much to do.
Embracing splendor, she looked like a queen,
and her intentions he’d not misconstrue.
The scent of flowers she’d dabbed on her skin.
Her mouth she’d painted and her hair let down.
It fell - gold water - and with no chagrin,
she left inside the closet her best gown.
His scowl fast vanished as he came undone.
Nude on the staircase, the battle she’d won.
Oct. 13, 2019
For the 'NUDE - descending a staircase' Poetry Contest of John Lawless
do not quarrel with the heart
when
love is in a quandary
wounded and abandon
in the battlefield of love
but
love
wants to query the soul
to reveal the essence of love eternal light
and
we must honor the requests of love
once more
to seek
and
make the spirit hold
to give it breath and flush out the light
to secure forgiveness and compassion
if
we bring the shining light
if
we do not quarrel with the heart tonight
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