Big Ben chimes again
With Bazball zen
One of those men
From special stock
Shepherd of the flock
Hewn from strewn Volcanic rock
From New Zealand's Southern Isle
But only there for a wee while
Mighty flame haired flair laird
Without doubt more about Blighty's North East
They forged this bellicose beast
Ripsnorting sporting cavorting squire
Glutton & gourmand gorged feast
Test town crier
Puffed buffed chest
Inspire..burning
Proper copper topper
Churning fire..
Endless zest..desire
No dull lull
No bore draw
Simple...aspire
To score more!
It's not arcane
Stokes campaign & reign
Train like you're insane
Always entertain!
Remember us flounder
In the gutter
Trounced...17 on the bounce
Could we have found
Pound for pounder
Better all rounder
Nutter...go getter
Sounder founder
Run rate record setter
Of the evolution
And revolution
Of Test cricket
Toe to toe
Blow by blow
Heave ho
Give us a ticket
In the Baz ball or
Ben buzz grotto
Gung Ho motto
You will never know
Till you give it a go!
Written: December 06, 2024
___________________________
We were born into tribes
cinctured by bonds and praxis
welded by ambits and dictums
an eyeless chasm.
But scope a sounder view
just under the shimmering surface
and the outcome will be luculent
our parallels often outshine our oddities.
Our blood is crimson
all of us slipshod weeps
all of us longing for love
all of us fail to face our fears.
Our zeal fashion fetching flow
our souls seek seraphic symbiosis
we all itch for a warm welcome
and achieve startling accolades.
But, we build walls,
and draw lines in the sand,
we judge hinged on appearance,
and ignore the outstretched hand.
But if we may just foresee,
beyond the color of our skin,
and the language we spree,
we may find kin.
Because in the recesses of our souls
within our deep cores
all of us are noxious
rhapsodic around finding fulfillment.
So let's slip away,
from the chains of tribalism,
and gasp our kinships,
with love and hope.
For only then,
can we for real unite,
and transcend our differences,
Into a world of light.
Long at first, truncating then on,
Short to start, sounder as goes on,
Like forenoon and post-noon shadows,
Friendship of the good and bad goes.
________________________
Translation |34.09.2024| good, bad, friendship
Poet’s note: Sanskrit has thousands of verses of wisdom called Subhashhitam. This verse talks about friendship and compares it with the shadows cast from sunrise to noon, and then from noon to sunset-- long to start with and then shortening (of the evil), and short to begin with but growing big as time passes (of the good). The transliteration of the Sanskrit verse follows:
Aarambha gurvee, kshhayinee kramena, laghvee puraa, vriddhi-matee cha pashchaat |
Dinasya poorvaardha paraardha bhinnaa, chhaaya iva maitreem khala sajjanaanaam ||
I spied a valley low
Across the road from the cemetery
A Columbus monkey swinging by
The trees of the vale
Stood tall and forlorn
Observing the crematorium
Covered in light gray smoke
As morning traffic streamed on by
Giraffe reached for the tallest bough
And I thought I heard the leopards growl
And by the road was a troop of baboons
As people walked on by
And a few yards away,
Was the army garrison
A regiment trooped on by,
As a sounder was grazing idly by
And people walked on by
Yes I spied a valley low
Where life carried on slow
Across the road from the cemetery
Where footsteps were dull and hollow
A funeral procession was going on
Yes the trees of the vale
Were tall and forlorn
The sun hung high and lorn
As were the clouds of dawn
As I drove along that road
Away from that valley low
On way to work you find a dog asleep,
And see the same scene on a return trip.
If that makes you wonder
Who lives life much sounder,
You live a dog’s life, no need to think deep.
If your dog has your bed taken over
And you’ve no option but to sleep on floor,
I suggest what to do,
If you have not a clue.
Turn three times before you sleep down, and snore!
____________________________________________
Limerick |03.08.2023| life, dog, humour
Poet’s note: The first limerick indicates that many a man live a dog’s life. The second, if your dog has usurped your bed, and now that you live a dog’s life, do as dogs do: Turn three times before you sleep on the floor. Additionally, snore and see if your dog is disturbed and vacates your bed. Good luck.
If you want to darkness dump,
To in life take a long jump;
If you need a sounder base,
A crossing into new phase…
For who wants to rule his thought,
Not relying on ideas bought;
For emerging a true champ,
Where you happen to now camp…
To know how to drink with straw,
Fingernail clip when it’s claw!
For leverage to the fore,
Behind leaving days of yore…
You’d better you went to school,
For therein awaits The Tool;
When one is no longer young,
Earning money like The Strong…
In higher ones find a course.
Don’t try stampedes of a horse;
You will have broken a rule
And might not escape Half Fool…
God knows I’m the First Witness,
Now, a fast–selling–business
Ingratiating the teacher,
Who sometimes sounds like preacher…
Sounder of pigs
ruined golf course
coming to you
Call me a Poet,
but I’m just a writer
these words that I breathe
respoken much later
Call me a Poet,
my couplets in rhyme
each stanza to shorten
with meaning sublime
Call me a Poet,
my retinue sounder
to live by the moment
my squares getting rounder
Call me a Poet,
I’ll call you the same
if one phrase you’ll tender
—attached to your name
(The New Room: March, 2022)
He was grizzled, intimidating, the original Viking all in black.
We were fearful, tearful, he was frightened us. We felt lack.
Is he a Viking? A Trojan? A Greek? A devil not clearly seen?
We did not know, so we reported this stranger to our darling queen.
Our queen was not afraid of anything, we had seen this before.
She summoned him to court, but he disappeared, gone forevermore.
We pondered this stranger with blue eyes the rest of our life.
He was a battle of one, scaring us soundly. We all felt the strife.
He was Celtic, a pagan, a man with battle and death on his mind.
He was horrible, a meanie, nothing like our loving sweet kind.
Some said his name was unmentionable, so they would never tell.
One thing for sure, this curious stranger was straight out of hell.
The story of him grew until it could not be contained, alive in the air.
He killed with his bare hands. His ebony coats were made of a bear.
He was a hermit, a rounder, a sounder, a man to be avoided and feared.
We love the stories of him. They are camp fire songs too, many endeared.
As ageing growing old;
It turns out, most grumpy stale people used to be grumpy young people;
This I believe it is so;
Ageing doesn’t turn a cheerful person into a grouch;
Now that I’m older I need to go get and off this couch;
The birth we’re born then we were young this is the prequel;
As ageing growing archaic elders then not treated as equals;
We are sounder problem-solvers;
And can sooner quickly draw the message from an argument;
Neither am I poor nor destitute but now I’m on a fix budget:
As ageing growing old;
Being comfortable a must and not being stylish anymore;
A sense of urgency comes with ageing, I know who I am;
And to whom I AM PRAYING;
Do you, hear what I’m saying;
The nice thing about getting older is you have seen it all, lived it all, felt it all;
As ageing growing old yes! We all see it all, live it all, feel it all;
(if we don’t die before we’re 45)
As ageing grows old, I sigh;
As I remember what my grandparents had said why...
As ageing growing old OH! my;
06/13/19
Written by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
For UNO 2019 Intergenerational Poetry Contest
Our World In Sync
We all dream of peace on earth...a lasting peace
when all wars no longer threaten, cease.
To live sounder lives, and drink
to a strengthened link:
all, from birth,
sync
with our earth;
live more kindly, think
how unrest and fear will shrink
when our hopes for brotherhood increase.
We all dream of peace on Earth...a lasting peace.
Sandra M. Haight
Form: Andaree
Syllables: 11, 9, 7, 5, 3, 1, 3, 5, 7, 9, 11
Rhyme: a-a-b-b-c-b-c-b-b-a-a
First and Last Line Must Be The Same
I think about intelligence
And wonder why we think our due
Is sanctioned by our own IQ
That natural inheritance
Compels us by unbending laws
To evolutionary cause
That beggars to irrelevance
The truth that brains can be a threat
That make it easy to forget
The most compelling evidence
That intellect may well provide
A rationale for venal pride
Displacing sounder temperaments
With logical proficiency
Ignoring self-deficiency
And cultivates intolerance
With vanity incredulous
And tidy, hidden prejudice
That blithely leads to negligence
Denying those less capable
In contexts inescapable
I much prefer the elegance
Of caring for the other guy
Of answering a helpless cry
Of principled benevolence
That intellect cannot be taught
Beyond the wit of reasoned thought
I think about intelligence
That natural inheritance
That beggars to irrelevance
The most compelling evidence
Displacing sounder temperaments
And cultivates intolerance
That blithely leads to negligence
I much prefer the elegance
Of principled benevolence
Written July 5, 2018
I’d almost forgotten
how you make the sun shine brighter
as you did yesterday
taking me back into your life
Where once I’d stomped my clumsy way
blundering on to blunder yet again
yes, while loving you,
but far less deserving than
I thought myself to be.
Despite your knowledge of my truths
you made a sounder, happier, more contented man
than existed yesterday
before you forgave me.
Overwhelming Thoughts
Why!?! I wondered; daily, solemnly pondered.
Why am I here – why not dead and moved yonder?
Thoughts pestered – which of them is believably sounder?
Look at me now: am I here for a divine plan greater?
Or could it even be for a family legacy, much better?
I stretched my imagination to accommodate me – a trend-setter!?!
My family’s legacy: pacemaker, fore-bearer and leader!?!
Is it possible? Could I fill the role of “Mighty man,” a Gideon follower?
Do I have what it takes to be a strong leader, father and believer?
Thoughts persisted and overwhelmed – I continued t questioningly wonder.
Why am I here? Is it just for this? Is this pain the whole plan of the Father?
End
By: Dion Penville
Jesus will love you completely, forever being by your side
Jesus will call often to you and me so one can't easily hide
Often aiding His children in so helping them along their way
He'll always find lost woman and men despite what they say
The more Jesus you take in the more joy one will encounter
You will not always win, but you will, be better than you were
Sounder sleep may also come for it is He who grants us peace
Doesn't work in thinking it's dumb or someone's trying to fleece
Be careful of outside influences that try in drawing you away
The devil's snares are all like nooses leaving the soul in decay
But all one needs do is to ask and Jesus will crush them all
Requires some simple tasks in so requiring you hear His Call
Some roads may be very very long while others may be short
The Lord can only keep you strong if each day to Him you report
Your reward is too big to fit here nor could anyone talk that fast
But if this still isn't all completely clear, well, you won't be the last
Matthew 20:16
“So the last shall be first, and the first last:
for many be called, but few chosen.”
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