Reprimands Poems | Examples

Good Night Sweet Kitty

Good night, sweet kitty.
It is time for us to sleep.
The moon is out, the day is done,
It's time for us to dream.
What is that crash, oh furry one?
You say you see a bug?
I've looked and looked, nothing is there,
Are you sure it wasn't a dream?
I'm startled awake by an apparition,
a screech, a snarl, a scream
A furry streak of puffed-up fur, 
a wailing and a keen.
It seems I forget to leave out treats,
Oh, how bad of me. 
As the moon watches the exchange,
the cat reprimands me.
Here's your treat, my goblin child,
Oh, please forgive your servant, me.

A Jelly Apple

Today I had a jelly apple – 
What a special treat!
My husband bought it just for me
‘Cause he is very sweet.

Atop the jelly, coconut
Was sprinkled, extra nice,
Although the jelly by itself
Would certainly suffice.

The coating on these store-bought types
Is gooey and real soft.
As kids, we would have tasted them
And laughed or even scoffed.

For in my youth, the jelly apple,
Sold in outdoor stands,
Would crackle when you took a bite
(To dentists’ reprimands).

Yet nowadays, I am content
To take what I can get
And my teeth are probably relieved;
My dentist need not fret!

They Rather Lift Your Casket Than Your Dreams

THEY RATHER LIFT YOUR CASKET THAN YOUR DREAMS

Dreams are made 
just like beautiful caskets.
Dreams can be waylaid,
even in reality outskirt.
Dreams do come true
but death has only one rule:
that is, the inevitability of death.
With colossal demands,
a dreamer rules the earth.
Despite your reprimands,

your corpse is lifted up
only to later undergo a drop.
To lift the casket of a corpse,
it takes 6 to 8 people max'.
Now, fathom the possibilities 
and probability of the visiblities 
of those 6 to 8 people,
eradicating portentous evil
in a man's life when actively alive
and save a soul about to starve.
Let's lift each other's dreams in life
rather than wait for the coming of death
to lift our casket while dissipating wealth.

Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Form: Rhymes 
Copyright ©? April 10th 2023.

Slippery Slopes

“Not down any drain!”
livid chef reprimands sous
fatberg prevention

Fourth and Four

Adjust and move four words for worth/ 
Aghast at July 4th I’ll power forward north / 
Away from what’s been uncovered worse than I’ve ever been coerced
I devour and nourish as the demeanor looks gorgeous/
He could just be mean and cook gorges/
Or spree clean to book and flee out of storage in the mind/
Got to get adorned oranges to be hoarded all timed and primed/
For the reminiscence of my minutes to cinch/
Or seconds to seize as I inch through this decadence towards reverence/
I’ll replenish and diminish the sacks and lost yardage/ 
It’s 4th and 4 hence the past porridge to sift in historic pork/
Let’s get to the meat of the stork like underneath the bark of an oak/
I won’t sulk I’ll spark and soak in my marinade/
I stare and gaze with a glare and a glaze/
Going through phase after phase/
Placed in places where there are no choices just voices/
Demands, directions, reprimands and disciplinary actions for noises/
Their discrete dealings and doings drive dimwits down from poises/
Disillusioned durations debunk the punk directly to become disinfected from a disenchanted situation and he rejoices

Benevolence-

Mighty is the mind that understands
Strong
 in due time 
Strong is the hand ,
Mighty that reprimands
Strong so that unbinds
Benevolence


5/13/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021

Watching the French Open

What joy to watch a tennis match 
Despite the empty stands.
At least the umpire needn’t give
His “Quiet!” reprimands.

Today I watched the Open (French),
A famous match on clay.
The action kept me riveted
A good chunk of the day.

My favorite player did his part
To glue me to the screen
And won the title, making shots
Both powerful and clean.

Though life for some is normal now,
For me it’s still on hold
So show some tennis on TV
And surely, I’ll be sold.

Flash Visit

Zooming to my room in a flash

...oblivious of sweet reprimands

my insistent dear guest

then whirled with quest fervor…

now triumphs over treasure found:

story* book** stuck in his wheel chair. 

*Our special child loves Bible stories.
**Joshua 1:8 This book of the law shall not depart out of thy mouth; but thou shalt meditate therein day and night, that thou mayest observe to do according to all that is written therein: for then thou shalt make thy way prosperous, and then thou shalt have good success.

May 27, 2020
5th place, "HEXASTICH IT" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Nette Onclaud; judged on 5/29/2020.

Stop Being Down Rise Up Above It-

All you bottom dwellers
Come up from the sellers 
~
And rise above the plain
Come up from above it
~
The shames
The pains
Those reprimands
Make them distance
~
Don't remain
Below sustain
~
Come up and walk
 be strong and talk
 rise up above it  ...

4/7/20
Written words  James Edward Lee Sr  2020

Carpe Diem

Events that live in infamy
Some life-changing, others life-ending

Hiroshima, the World Trade Center, 
areas struck by tornadoes, hurricanes, earthquakes

Life that remains will never be the same
Survivors are plagued by emotions of loss and grief

Consider couples who fought over breakfast
Or parents whose last words were reprimands

A king’s ransom might be offered
For the opportunity we still have

Live without regret
Part with tender words

Express feelings every day
Love alone lives on past tragedy

The Board

Accessible rhyme is never good.
The penalty is understood—
soft titters from dark board rooms where
the businessmen paste on their hair
and, Colonel Klinks, defend the Muse
with reprimands of Dr. Seuss.

The best book of the age sold two,
or three, or four (but not to you),
strange copies of the ones before,
misreadings that delight the board.
They sit and clap; their revenues
fall trillions short of Mother Goose.

Finality

Ample company, loneliness weighs
Spirit that existed, reduced to a shadow
Boisterous laughs that were, drown in nostalgia
Efforts to restore, succumb to depletion.
My heart is lost, can i end?

Thoughts rotate, only to stop
Sructure that flowed, a forgotten memory
Inking emotions, tears dried
Wishing a return, distance accumulates.
My heart is lost, can i end?

Speech begins, wary of slurs
Command exercised, relinquished through silence
Pronounciations natural, pronounced pride
Attempting freedom, conscious reprimands.
My heart is lost, can i end?

Steps occur, breaths strain
Will to wander, led astray
Aimless explorations, wonder enticed 
Sighting paths, blurring avenues.
My heart is lost, can i end?

Appeals subtle, expressions elude
Releases unfiltered , shackled by insecurity 
Portions share, layers shed
Necessity uncomprising, relentless avoidance.
My heart is lost, can i end?

O, Fluff, Fizz, Ice-Truffles and Bandalees

O!  FLUFF!  FIZZ!  ICE-TRUFFLES and BANDALEES!
Can't see the forest, for the snow on trees!
Where every gossamer veil of snow delights
And every string of bulbs mimics Heav'n's Lights!
O!  TRUE! the tales of gnomes and Ice-Elves are!
(I fear some fool will catch one in a jar
and so, I've held my Peace on this -- so far)
But NOW, I must speak out, you see... on par
With Ancient Wisdom are the Fairy Stories,
Chuck full of Angels, dwarves... filled with the Glories
Of... Champions, Magicians of Renown...
Of tiny folk, who live in Tinytown…
Of Reprimands for those who trouble Nature
(Or use JUST Scientific Nomenclature).
REBUKE!  O, WISE!  The Unbelievers, ALL!
Who LAUGH at gnolls and trolls, both great, and small!
For He that trusts not, sews with poison thread,
That knots Hope; leaves Imagination dead.

Date Written:  December 28, 2018
For Contest:  BUNNY LUMP
Sponsored by:  Caren Krutsinger

Forgiveness' Plight

Midst biblical knowledge
Along the verse Psalm 14:1* I acknowledge
Yet in self-exaltation along vested interest’s mileage
I cling to humanistic tenets gained from secular college…
Forgive me, Lord, when I deny You with heart of blasphemous sacrilege.

Midst exposure to awesome miracles
Along ecstatic experience toward victory-pinnacles
Yet in financial constraints around dearth and crises’ cycles
I’m gripped with worries’ angst; shackled by miseries’ manacles…
Forgive me, Lord, when I’m overtaken with mind of skepticism-tentacles.

Midst truth-revelation’s acceptance
Along deception’s circumspect avoidance
Yet in good works and faith-pleasing performance
I fall short due to my doubt’s endurance and trust’s reluctance…
Forgive me, Lord, for being overruled by rebellious will filled with arrogance. 

Midst radiance of goodness’ glow
Along wisdom’s guidance to follow
Yet in clear warnings against spiritual low
I ignore admonitions, rebukes and reprimands’ blow…
Forgive me, Lord, for showing folly that forsakes grace-flow.

*Psalm 14:1 “The fool hath said in his heart, There is no God…”

November 28, 2018

A Flood of Tears

A Flood of Tears

When tears glue eyed lids’ tar to balls of fire
	
        and tear apart a soothing balm called resolution
	
        as tar defeats the lysosomes of ragged vision
	
        a third eye calls for sixth sense in a sickened time
		
                 a cry for a cry decries a festering splinter inside out



When shackled chakra invites distorted sounds

	sticks on that loopy tone and tune in endless loops

	as hearing plasters mucilage in mutilation’s muteness

	a third ear of quietude invites a healing frequency

	        a voice reprimands cacophony and beats the drums

When smell exudes a sewer’s skewer

        taste falls foul on buds and buts again

        touch lost its grip on grapple’s clench

	and rotting leaves leave decomposed what’s left behind

		one message remains to battle out the wreckage

There is no phoenix no panacea no external healing

        no clever plot to complete the warring conqueror’s return

        let alone no algorithm or conceited panoply of ease

	but only you can change the things you try and can

		and everything starts with longing length for suffering to cease

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