You are the opposite of everything I am.
You are so unique; nothing like a carbon copy.
Unlike the average--the reason you complete me.
Unlike many without identity, you are happily you.
You are the meaning of, 'opposites attract each other'.
You are so set in your way, often stubbornly unmovable.
Unlike two positives or two negative terminals on a battery.
Unlike so many others, you are able, capable, and very stable.
You appear to be a woman of steel, permeated with a strong will.
You are predictable, with little variation; yet so full of suspense.
Unlike plastic, recyclables, or reusables; no rival; you are the real deal.
Unlike anyone I have ever met or known; you have no twin, I'm convinced.
You don't need circumstances, or people, or things to make you happy.
I perceive the happiness inside of you, infused, permeated with God's Love.
God sees that you are the clay, designed in heaven, and a God-made woman.
God was the potter who saw what he wanted in you, and made no mistake.
To my devoted wife,
Happy Birthday.
I love you.
090721PSCtest, A Poem To Your Spouse On His/Her Birthday,
Funom Makama. 8P
Categories:
recyclables, birthday, wife,
Form: Couplet
So here we are in the 21st century
acting like a flock of birds that suddenly went blind
and flew into a red brick wall.
We have to worry about the outbreak of Ebola,
and ISIS murdering and taking over the globe,
and climate change that’s melting the ice,
and why there’s no sure-fire cure for Lyme disease,
and why our politicians favor their own personal agendas
over helping us citizens live a happy and healthy life.
Maybe we’ve become an illogical species
that treat the facts about how we behave
as a can of recyclables like a plastic soda bottle
or an empty can of peas or beans
or an unread newspaper gathering dust in the trash.
Maybe we think our current behavior
couldn’t be reincarnated as an instrument of our demise
even when we act like a distracted driver of modern-day car
that kills a Raccoon crossing the road to visit with his lover.
Categories:
recyclables, america, conflict, culture, how
Form: Free verse
I tried to hold my breath,
lacing plastic together with curdled finesse.
Days of remnants rolled around in a heap
and awaited it’s pallbearer. One final destination.
A graveyard necessary for human greed.
I guess everything has an expiration date.
We find these things, and love them
desperately until they die.
Enjoy it’s taste or fiddle with its edges.
We soak ourselves in their worth,
and hope it settles in our stomachs.
We need to know it’s money well spent.
We have to make ourselves believe that
we won’t end up alongside everything we’ve bought.
Like we’re something greater.
And yet, we will still rot under the same dirt
that we place the husks of our misguided and fickle creations beneath.
Burn me when I die,
I want to fly on the wind
and escape the sin that I’ve been living in.
I want to visit the trees and breath new air.
I want to be better than I’ve been.
-James Kelley 2013, All rights reserved
Categories:
recyclables, imagery, inspiration, inspirational, introspection,
Form: Free verse
IN A TIME AND PLACE,
AND OR CASE OR SPACE,
WHEN THE WORLD IS TRYING,
WITH ALL OF IT'S MIGHT,
TO RECYCLE, GO GREEN, INCITE,
RESTORE, OR PRESERVE,
MOTHER EARTH,
IT SEEMS,
AN UNBELIEVABLE DREAM.
WHEREAS PAPER, PLASTIC, RUBBER, AND ELASTIC,
CANS, GLASS BOTTLES ,POSSESS SUCH VALUE,
FANTASTIC!!!!
WHAT VALUES MORE,
THAN RECYCLABLES,
THE HUMAN MIND,BODY, SPIRIT AND SOUL,
THE ULTIMATE WHOLESOME REDEEMABLES.
VALUES.
INVALUABLES.
YOURSELF, DAILY, EVEN MORE.
YOU PRICELESS JEWELS,
PRECIOUSLY ADORED.
Categories:
recyclables, people,
Form: Free verse