Raggedy Army
As morning bathes in spring sunshine
A raggedy army stands in line.
Unkempt and ragtag, oddly sized,
Unarranged, disorganised.
Red, a splash among the grey
A new parade at dawn each day.
Some heads drooping, some held high,
A handful gazing at the sky.
Fresh and bright to start the morning,
Most won’t see a new day’s dawning.
In summer’s heat, the same routine -
A new head where an old had been.
In autumn’s fading dying light
A hardy few keep up the fight.
But then to hide in winter’s snow,
Till spring’s warmth says it’s time to show.
And bursting forth and standing proud,
Though scattered, battered, thrashed and ploughed
The raggedy army stands again
Eternal homage to fallen men.
I wish I've had a fairy godmother
who'd have given me a nice dress
who'd have made my hair look pretty
so I'd have gone to the dance,
And ride in a wooden old carriage
and walked down a long stair
and met my own ragged prince
who'd have loved me until the end.
Jessica
Age wrinkles up the face of youth
and dulls the eyes to mask the truth;
in no time, Death is at the door,
a shadow stepping on the floor.
Our foolish ears pretend to hide
from what is drawing near outside;
we gasp for air in ragged breaths,
ignoring all these quiet deaths.
His scraping nails scratch at the bone,
to claim what we had thought to own;
and as we drop our final tears,
old Death drinks up our mortal fears.
Alvin
Bragg
Is
Such
A
Ragged
Bag
Of
Political
Corruption.
God
Bless
His
Little
(Corrupt)
Heart.
Today was a ragged book that no one remembers
Alone on a dusty shelf
Patiently waiting to share all of the beautiful secrets
Written on brittle pages
And in the margin
The little girl had lost her doll,
Searching up here, searching down there,
The doll was ragged and so small,
Where had she gone now? Where, oh, where?
She looked under her little bed,
She looked under her bedroom chair,
"She must be so scared", the girl said,
She searched for her doll everywhere,
She looked in her big brother's room,
But she couldn't find her anywhere,
Eyes full of tears, heart filled with gloom,
Off she went, with her mom to share,
Mom said, "Oh dear, no need to cry,
Your doll took a bath with Brown Bear,
Look out, I think now, she's all dry,
Your dolly's clean and bright and fair."
I’ve been ragged on
I’ve been pushed around
And I plead to the sky above
When is my time to be loved
Is there a time for me
Oh I just let me be
It certainly is not their show
How would they know
It’s been such a long time
To be standing in the long line
Here I am I’ve paid the fare
Laying my lonely heart bare.
© Paul Warren Poetry
the homeless people
alive in cracks we avoid.
each displays no grace nor glory.
We turn our backs, are so annoyed.
Worn overcoats over scrim pajamas,
angled hair and leather-ed skin,
bags and bottles are their bangles,
we’ve become loveless manikins.
some have singing voices.
souls beautiful yet never heard.
some lay choice-less
all have only what we deserve.
there are angels among them
Sent to check on you and me.
watching, waiting for any kindness
To save us from what we deserve.
What do we know about the homeless people?
Sleeping in the cracks that we avoid?
Those who seem to have no grace or glory.
We turn our backs we’re so annoyed.
John K. O’Zemko
Revised 01-13-2023
02-19-2009
Out, vile jelly! Sightless orb.
Horrified, yet we absorb.
Never sated, always thrilled,
Captives to the ink he spilled.
Our eyes thus peer through fingers tight;
Coveting his wit, we write.
The play’s the thing, its own reward,
Yet emulate we our dear bard.
For a moment, he draws near;
Perchance, we dream, our verse endears.
Nay, with scorn he soon departs:
“Thou art a very ragged Wart.”
----------
musings on Shakespeare be Damned by John Lawless
"Her pain was so jagged. You couldn't touch her, without it slicing through you too. I wanted to fold myself around her and absorb the rest of the blows life would deliver."
~ Tarryn Fisher
"My faith didn't remove the pain, but it got me through the pain. Trusting God didn't diminish or vanquish the anguish, but it enabled me to endure it."
~ Robert Rogers
Tears flow down my cheeks
like small rivulets
Pain is like a volcano erupting within me
It burns down all defences
I sob like a little child
Agonizing spasms cut through me
like a jagged knife sharpened on both sides
I cry out loud
Is there no relief?
Torment churns my being
like a grinder mixing it all or a mixer grinding me
I toss and turn
restless and lachrymose
Anguish pricks my insides
It's like walking barefoot on jagged rocks
My physical pain is just a minuscule fragment
compared to my Saviour's agony on the Cross
He knows and understands my heart’s deepest aches
And so, I remind myself of that
and find my comfort in Him.
20th March 2022
The ragged edge of life
haunts the future.
I have seen it – watched it
witnessed its wickedness
cringed at its callousness
its unforgiving finale’.
The rasp of its voice
chortling in collusion
with languid lungs
accepting defeat
but not yet beaten.
Heaving at great expense
to haul ashore
one more day
one more sunrise greeting
one more sunset farewell.
Gentle breezes
torture its weary form
strain its weakened sinews
splinter its gnarled branches
hum a farewell.
Would that it were
a long walk
down an empty trail
leaving no signs
of our passing.
But if we lived
we left footprints.
How easy will yours be
to follow.
John G. Lawless
3/19/2022
walk in these shoes a dozen miles
hang down you head like a defeated, disciplined child
think in your mind the times of strife you have
beating in your heart your last blood you bleed less
go asleep and as you wake
you awake just to sleep
and all your dreams you've been denied
come and go run and hide
Over the stones
over the mounds and hills
Over the grasses roam
Over the on through river banks
over through meadows lakes
while yet still in the distance
still you walk in worn shoes a ragged dozen miles
walk
walk
walk
walk in worn shoes a ragged dozen miles
1/12/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2022©
All night, wind ragged as rain blew.
And the moon is seen as a squire view.
To be a mentor to the cutting wind.
In the sky, a single moon might askew.
Oh, hurry to the lake in the wild.
Both the lady and the bird sighed.
If only we'd ever loved each other!
If all they've done is look in mind.
Utterance cracks as we become older.
A lighted match's rosy cheeks, blusher.
A sun storm raged underneath the ground. ?
I clean our crystal skulls with a safe utter.
I ramble with most of yesterday's wound.
Along the ragged edges of a river round.
Among the hopes that will never realize
It was only me, my last day, and my hound.
But yet, doesn't all life exist to demise?
Can't the sun have some night bronze?
Isn't it all promise that flickers so dimly?
When faced with the stout dawn rise?
It's likely that the odds aren't so dreary.
But some, we will have to fight certainly.
Surrounded by the lowland meadow.
So I dare to daydream to attain victory.
Written: October 5, 2021
''R'' Contest, New Or Old Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France.
A bum wore ragged clothes in my neighborhood,
With giant holes in them and he smelt awful.
Although he had little, he was misunderstood,
There was a bum in my old neighborhood.
He saw such darkness, but he looked for good,
The many insults he got weren't lawful.
There was a bum in my old neighborhood,
He wore ragged clothes, and he smelt awful.
10/05/2021
Contest:” R” A New or Old poem
Sponsor: Constance La France
Worn strung out shoelaces;
Hostile human remains;
With ceramic faces;
I'm withdrawing;
Beaten up by the law;
Where is your God;
Help us all;
Replace my shoes;
With the wing around my neck;
Gives me purpose;
He's tested the sweat of my feet;
He says I'm a sinner forgiven;
Mercy's Grace has risen;
8/18/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2020
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