Spare the rod, spoil the child;
We should take care of our children now;
Just as God does for us...
The Lord is...
The Lord is like a father;
A father to His children;
We are His children;
Father tender and compassionate you those who fear Him;
God, I'm your child an adult now, share not your rod,
like a father
Reprimand me Father I'm your child
written word by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
Psalm 103:13
Categories:
reprimand, appreciation, engagement, introspection, perspective,
Form: Light Verse
In reprimand of Donald Anus Trump
(the Grand Old Party's best and choicest loser,
who sleazed and promised us he'll “drain the swamp”),
you live up to your name for there's none cruder
than you. And you behave like a male hussy
(who'd lay your daughter because she's a blonde peach),
and chirpily urge Bush to “grab [women] by
the pussy” (on video) in no figure of speech.
How to laud you our Commander-in-Chief;
when all you do is lie, distort, and threaten
your way out of the charge that you're a thief
(and fraud with whom Lord God has yet to reckon)?
And God help those children all at the border,
now dying by your executive order!
© 2019 Ngoc M. Nguyen...All Rights Reserved.
Categories:
reprimand, corruption, eulogy, immigration, parody,
Form: Sonnet
Our last stand
Last chance
For a reprimand
Yet none came
Good for there’s not
Anyone to blame
Categories:
reprimand, abuse, addiction, america,
Form: Free verse
This poem gives a slightly different viewpoint of the meadow in 'Two Painters,' written by Arthur Vaso. His poem can be read by visiting his site at: http://arthurvaso.weebly.com/current-poems.html
From a hill overlooking the meadow green
I watched two painters with canvas and brush
Eyes focused on each other and nature's scene
I saw when her face took on a faint tint of blush
A basket lunch was laid beneath an apple tree
Skies grew dark when the serpent slithered in
Forbidden fruit not bitten, I watched them flee
Turning away from the evil temptation of sin
The meadow is again lush with morning mist
I removed the evil one with strokes of my brush
Two painters fell in love with their first kiss
I stand at my easel listening to songs of a thrush
I created the meadow and the man with my hand
It's you, evil creature, who will feel my reprimand
Categories:
reprimand, god,
Form: Sonnet
Still, chimney birds emerge,
cobweb-coated, darkly blithe --
to skim the sky's everted
bowls of purple porcelain
and to utter their gray-tinged
raucous cries at evening:
a reprimand, and sorrow.
Categories:
reprimand, angst, depression, forgiveness, introspection,
Form: Free verse