Unfortunate isn't it
That we only see a roses beauty
Once its been plucked away
Torn from it's roots
Shaven thorns
Simply there for
self preservation
Put up nicely in a bouquet
to look like the rest
But as for me,
I will kiss your thorns
I will leave you at home
You don't belong to me
NB Thanks for your prayers. My eye operation was successful. I still need four weeks for the total result.
The rowan trees grew haphazardly.
Down the North side, where snow
And rain affected them least.
Sturdy and strong, they allow the winds.
To filter amongst the green leaves,
Creating a soft hum amongst the mountains.
Listen, it echoes your name throughout the trees,
Sweet Crystal, my lovely beloved Crystal.
Large flocks of fieldfares, thrushes, and blackbirds
Visit or migrate to rowan trees, eating the berries around.
Among the crevices of mountains, streams run down.
A rhythm humming an echoing romantic song.
My heart pounds with electric love as I feel.
Your soft face cuddles against my shaven face.
Yet twilight is nigh, and so we departed down.
The rough paths and return lovingly home.
Oh, Crystal, my Crystal, I love you so.
I love the colour of my skin,
Au naturel suave evergreen.
From head to toe, and deep within,
Each part of me, feels so serene.
Even the bristles, on my chin,
Tonsured daily, smooth shaven clean.
The only difference, with my twin,
While I am green, he's tangerine.
Hereditary, our kith and kin,
Diverse within the human gene.
8 / 13 / 2025.
Sirius is approaching the gate
dragging the hot and humid like bait.
Scorching dog days are back.
A violent attack!
I fear I will burn my shaven pate!
Though opposed by federal court
Trump’s sport-like media report
Features flights at night
With head-shaven blight
And the hog-walked men we deport
What slave asks for anything more
Than a rave in El Salvador?
With expenses paid
In dirt they’ll get laid
While six million bucks pays our whore
Some people were upset and they said it was unfair.
George Bailey killed old man Potter and he went to the electric chair.
George discovered that the eight thousand was stolen by Potter.
George became enraged and he was angry enough to slaughter.
George went to Potter's house with his gun and he shot him through the heart.
As they strapped George to the electric chair, he knew his decision wasn't smart.
George refused to have his head shaven and his hair burst into flames.
Poor George truly became a hot head and he only had himself to blame.
George became a psychopath even though he used to be nice.
He decided it was best to kill Potter and sadly, he paid the price.
MINDSET: Clean shaven with a conscience that sleeps well through the night,
one needs not worry about guilt or other destroying emotions that bind.
Honest
as mirrors
who don't lie to us
Truthful as the morning sun
We meet our conscience face to face every day
Engaging with heart and soul we are often tested
and if we lie, a great feeling of unrest settles deep within us
Honesty is a moral voice that speaks to our inner compass, please take heed!
A wind, sharp and cold
Leaves the trees shaven,
Of such colors bold
Yet, in my mind are graven
Come November days
Less sunlight remains,
Where it stayed and plays
Filtering, as it drains
Through amber waves
Leaving my heart warm,
In my memory saves
Before the first snowstorm
Be it white by morning
No more gold and red,
Be it winter's warning
That autumn is almost dead
Come November nights
Stiffened by the chill,
The dappled sunlights
Cling to my soul still.
A huge room not denied luxury,
The rejected in it: Misery
Of fine glass up to the bookshelf:
If one was close to it saw oneself:
The weight of a thousand Christian Books
And at what the smart owner looks;
Glasses for whisky but no whisky:
To have whisky displayed risky:
"One can't defend in a voice husky
What surely makes the keeper frisky".
His callers would sit in a cushion
Owner of the room lives for true fashion:
Man can serve Lord God and some passions
And this not prompt long quizzing sessions...
The clean-shaven in a clean cassock
He had vowed he would never forsake.
Keeps trying to pull herself together:
Objects scatters and tries to them gather;
Hard to swallow his withdrawal from her world.
Clean-shaven head she’d cajoled for being bald
She should never forget the month of May,
When God in her life allowed Death a say.
Julius had promised her everything:
“All my envious feuding brothers Nothing”
Their world and lot shall, again, turn golden,
Although, all his companies are folding…
Alas! She, Stella, had got it all wrong,
Her enemies to break into a song.
She’ll have to hold on to memories:
In her mind a neatly filed series…
She knows they’ve coming for her long hair,
The scissors that shall attack it won’t care.
What they can’t take from her his mansion,
They had better not the topic mention.
She’s ready to make phone calls for a Jeep;
A full army that makes giants weeps!
Living life in their lane, lunge-ful lions do not apologize.
Enthusiastic echo roars resound as shy shaven sheep rise.
Gnashing their torn-up teeth, gnawing on marvelously manly meats,
Lions tear their tasty treats up as horrified sheep tweet out their tweets.
Tigers strive to become kings themselves, taking on lions sometimes.
Apologetic, socialized sheep pretend they are voiceless mimes.
Lordly lions like luxury, loving life in their own way.
So are you a socialized sheep or lordly lion today?
Superhero, Marc Spector, known as the Moon Knight,
Plays lead role in the Marvel Comics bright and tight;
Having, like Greek gods, gift of immortality,
Reveals his powers, with lightning vitality...!
Egos of Moon Knight, Steven Grant and Jake Lockley,
Lived and acted, sometimes godly, often oddly;
One handling the trauma tantrums, like a doctor,
Another assists him as though a concoctor...!
With weight-lifting-champion-like physical strength,
Moon Knight comes out glorious, going any length;
When, Khonshu, falcon god of vengeance, de-powers,
Like Samson after hair-shaven, Moon Knight cowers...!
30 September 2022
Moon Knight Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori
The best intention is still rude,
If into others’ affairs intrude:
As two hit each other over food
And you don’t over restraint brood
Nor from the drama keep away:
A begging role of a stowaway …
For this resent I John Jude
Whom I address as The Rude
And would maliciously exclude
From honors I should him include.
The intruder shooting others’ trouble
Could his house end in rubble,
For its rebuilding spend double,
The clean-shaven keeping a stubble.
soda stream pops
gargles are gurgled
mischievous meanders over moss
jutting chins of fresh shaven
intrusive rocks
sunlit tendrils stroking at the seams
Finely broken glass
filters through
my picture heart
from where puzzles start
inside tainted walls
or none at all
shaven and prickly too
In between
on random moons you glowed
melancholy from all and Above
spinning
spinning
spinning !!
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