Light larkish lackadaisical lassie lithe and lean
Measured Mesopotamia’s millionth mammoth, not all mean
Nonetheless, noticing the level of lithium in a coffee bean,
Opposing ornery ocelots who are seldom city seen
Providing palatable parables to Patty, platypus who loves to preen
Quarreling with irksome quail-herders who captivated lassie’s queen
Resisting relatives reaching for gardenia’s gruesome globs of green
Stalwart soldiers seriously slicing sluggishness from a computer screen.
Layla, Lilly and Lollypop lollygagged through life
Making musical merry mischief for Mr. Farmer’s wife
Nestling near nasty Nicholas’ notoriously sharp needy knife
Optimizing oscillating orneriness’, forging a fit of fife
Practically perforating Polly’s pretty pastel pail
Quizzically questioning queenly Quarks quarreling quail
Responding with respect and responsibility, rendering road rail
Seductively seeding a sassy stormy sandy seductive sail
Trying to travel to Tripoli, to tie a terrible tiger’s tail
My blade is sharper, so they claim.
And his hoe is blunt.
Each voice raised is struggling to rise above the noise,
eyeing for supremacy,
living to convince,
competing for dominance,
quarreling to belittle, demean, and degrade.
I found that armchair broken and fixed it.
The chicken you ate when you paid your dowry was mine.
So it goes.
But both are travelers.
Come harvest time, behind those bushes they will disappear.
No inheritance, pension, or gratuity—except what they sent forth.
Had we not wasted our time,
we would have been of paradise.
But we departed with enmity.
We are now roasted in grief.
(1)
Two lumps of sugar kissed.
Locked horns of marriage hissed.
Churns lake of better-worse.
Ring wins for friendship missed.
(2)
Ruddy red the roses. Darling,
Please let’s cease our trifling quarreling.
Rows and rows, of apologies,
Bride and groom are gentle guarding.
Here I lie in a hired bed
Everything around me is red
For their minds bleed much in ponder
Over foolish things, they wonder
The hassle of travelling
But my stomach is quarreling
I need to lie down to past the time
Until all inside me is in full rhyme
Done in SFC, in a hired bed surrounded by prying and barking dogs and jabbering parrots
May 13, 2024
As I walked along that lonely road
Before the sun lay red
Change, was on my mind
Dealing with the devil, too damn long
Endless nights have bled my veins with sour milk
For I have been awakened- by will
God perhaps, maybe- maybe not
Heel to him and he will heal you, so they say
I must prove to myself first- that I am, for real
Just because actions speak louder than lips
Knocking on heaven's door cracked my knuckles
Looking for life with sewn eyelids
Maybe, my world is nothing but a dream
No one really knows me,
Other than myself, or, do I
Poor judgement was my shield
Quarreling with myself, I was sure to lose
Reaching out to hope, gave me hope
Searching for that slim escape passage
Time had come, no more "Mr. Bad Guy"
Under my want, and desperate need
Vowing to believe...again
Wanting to believe...again
X'ing out any thoughts, desires, and temptations
Yearning for life...again
Zeroing out- Mr. Aich
A fire goes out for lack of wood;
when whispers ceased, neither quarreling could.
As hot embers fanned bring flames to life,
a quarrelsome man so kindles strife.
------------
A little more, but a lot intact from the English Standard Version
All answers affect aspirations
By belittling bygone barbarizations
Constantly criticizing correlations
Defined dumbfounded dictations
Edicts evaporate everyone's expectations
Foregone frustrations failed flirtations
Gone great grace giving generations
Harmonies have harmonious hesitations
Impotence influences indignations
Justified judicious justifications
Killing kaputz keratinizations
Living life lonely leaves lacerations
My muse motivated monumental mutations
Nonsense needed no normalizations
Offended overintellectualizations
Past promises purely placations
Questioning quarreling quotations
Resisting relevant restifications
Sentient solutions solve segregations
Total trust triumphs trepidations
Utopias undermined ultralizations
Viciousness visualized victimizations
Worthless weaponizations
Xenodochial xenophilications
Yawn Yuppifications
Zenith zealousness zendrifications
I
The Poems I didn't write
Are words that sit tight
In throat, trials, every fight
Between Beloveds
II
She told others but just not him
His loving, living, quarreling
Were poetry in motion, a ring
Of words binding
Finger, hand, heart
III
Imagine a world, a family, couples ...
Who spoke the poems of life & love?
Sandra said “Abracadabra”
To up conjure candelabra,
Calling self Unrepentant Fox!”
Her mind “Dark mystery and Black Box.
She knew the Business of Magic,
Statement quarreling with logic;
You remain noisy: keep talking,
You don’t stand still: keep walking;
Sounds much like a monkey’s chatter
Which to one shall solve the matter
Your task: to keep charming The Eye
With any Well-Prepared True Lie…
A woman parading cobra
And said to have lived with zebra,
Her watchers for candelabra
From - Could you believe it? - her bra!
"From Bra A Candelabra!"
In the darkness of the night the light evades me
Don't yet humble and it's flight the lightning bug winks at me
Do the flashings of the night the sun dissipates it covers itself with
While in the cool Autumn breeze might come as it dawns a new day
I gaze out my window and there's troubling
Shadows I see their faces their mouth moving
Whispers In The Air ever so troubling
I am bound by the duty as my mind and I are quarreling
I see the shadows and they're a whispering
I hear the shadows as they are whispering
Deep within my subconscious mind the shadows are whispering
I am bound speechless trapped in the darkness my mind eyes
Yet I can't see the shadows whispering
I can only hear them singing in my ear whispering
10/9/21
Written by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021
A letter came from Auntie Mabel today--
Saying how she’s tired of working for low pay,
Seems her widowed sister has come to stay,
The kids make too much noise when they play
Keeps telling me she doesn’t have much to say,
Still having trouble with a molar in final decay.
Her nephew on her husband’s side turned gay
And her favorite rooster died right where he lay,
Wanted to know what I think she should weigh
And, lastly, wanted the latest on Aunt Lula Fay,
Frankly, not much in her letter seemed okay.
In a week or so, I will answer her letter--
Telling her she should retire to spare her back
For a home and money, her sister doesn’t lack.
I’ll remind her quarreling about the kids is smack,
There is a fine dentist in her town named Jack
As to her nephew, I said he finally got the knack,
Sorry, but the rooster would’ve made a great snack
As to Aunt Fay, now I know she’s not snorting crack,
And, if she starts to diet, don’t consult a quack.
written October 7, 2021
A person once said it has always
Been that way
Creating an illusion
Down here confusion on
Earth and
Fueling the emotion
Going with blind devotion
Hovering on a rift
Imagination adrift
Just because one read it
Killing our thoughts of who said it
Luring us into blindly following
More insanity and wallowing
Never to think on our own
Opting to live as a drone
Pouring out empty phrases
Quarreling through the ages
Recesses of our mind
Simply being blind because
Those who said it also
Understood our pettiness and
Verified our weaknesses
Watched their will seeping where
Xanax will be the answer because of
Yellers ceaseless banter
Zzzs are all that’s left to say.
© Deborah Kelly Aug 2021
How might I compose the mystery of my quarreling; that I may absolve the full measure of distance within the present hour, where time is but a compass that leads to all that has become magical in you.
Might forever be found in that place, that I may walk upon those eternal embers kindled anew;
blindly loving with eyes for no other shall I seek hastily and readily again shall they burn for thee,
with the bearing heat of more than a thousand suns.
Alfredo Gonzales (c)
. I EAT MEAT
I EAT MEAT... and vegetables too
but my belly reflects on me,
and subsequently, does not show on you,
the vegetarian.
Romans 14 New International Version (NIV)
The Weak and the Strong
14 Accept the one whose faith is weak, without quarreling over disputable matters. 2 One person’s faith allows them to eat anything, but another, whose faith is weak, eats only vegetables. 3 The one who eats everything must not treat with contempt the one who does not, and the one who does not eat everything must not judge the one who does, for God has accepted them. 4 Who are you to judge someone else’s servant? To their own master, servants stand or fall. And they will stand, for the Lord is able to make them stand.
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