Short Meritorious Poems

 deserving love is---like a humble lily that shines endlessly....

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Sediments of life experiences may seem precarious
One’s faith and hope that they may be found meritorious
As one lies six feet underground
The hereafter will only be compound
If the Creator’s judgment finds you sinfully nefarious...

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Live from hand to mouth

More meritorious than to live from hand to mouth
With no reserve to depend on,
And far better than
Keeping body and soul together
In hopeless destination
Make ends meet
Tete era ne nne
                      ABED ANTHONY...

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Many memories of my mother
making moist mellow macaroons 
marshmallows and Madeira cake,
minuscule madeleines, marvellous,
mum measures, marinates, melts,
more majestic meals.
My matriarch makes,
marmalade,
marzipan,
muffins,
mincemeat,
meringue.
mousse.
My meritorious mom mixes, merges, mingles,
melon,
mango,
mulberries,
Mandarins.
My maternal materfamilias, masterminds 
Mealtime masterpieces....

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A cavalcade of savage singing lights  
whip worshippers of ultraviolet;
Indulging the most hedonistic threat 
they raise hooks to meritorious heights;
DJ’s entourage being read last rites
at the end of that set they won’t forget;
A cavalcade;
The swollen witching hour synthetic bites 
direct reckless dancers to a sure bet;
Inarticulate’s the best you can get;
Obsessing over complicated fights,
a cavalcade....

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They live in mortal sin and shame
Between the lines of old and new
As us the righteous good and few
See infidels who aren't the same
How dare they question our belief
Eternal fire is prepared for
The devil and his angel scores
Who claim their brand of truth as chief

Our war is waged victorious
In time our vision shall prevail
Our purest essence, glorious
Barbarians are weak and frail
And we the meritorious
Will fight the battle tooth and nail...

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A milestone in love
I have just got
When I joined the club
Of the sorrowful lovers
Not I am to be praised
For all this 
Glorious achievement
It is only 
The grace of her love
Now it is up to me 
How meritorious I can be
By making my sorrow
More and more high
But even for this
I need her bliss
Of her hateful eyes
I pray to God
To give her power 
To rain hateful shower
Without caring
The cover
Of my loving fire
The more she hates
The higher the glory
Of my sorrow becomes...

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