it was an accident
he was not a violent man
her death was her own fault
she goaded him
he dropped her body into the hole
She is a low life skank
Trailer trash honey
Dressing all up
And taking your money
But I would trip her if I saw her
And spill my coffee on her dress
And make her into disheveled mess
And yes darlin,
She done you wrong,
So I wrote this song....
Your wife should not napalm your life
To sleep with all your friends
That was no way to make amends
It makes her just a hussy
And a low class ****
And there is no makeup or outfit That can dress that up
You can’t pull that kind of high jinx
And expect any man,
to ever fall for you again
So she will be alone, just wait and see
And we can sing about it and someday laugh you will see
Love you Cowboy Poet, this was not your fault . (C) Artimus Susan Manley 10:55 AM 10/30/23
Changed past Lo, twas an low estate
A mark posted on my slate
Ebb of no esteem
Young fascinating dreams
Of being married only a late teen of seventeen
The one and only female teen nine months older than me
I courted three years, then on mine 21 birthday
She became my spousal woman of my dreams yea
Changed past O’ she allowed me to pick and pursue her
True that, through that a blessed memory that changed my life, sure!
She could have said NO?
But she said “Yes” it bless my soul
True that, through that a blessed memory that changed my life
A male, a boy turned man
Via God’s Plan
Misguided self-considered ugly duckling God gave a wife
Changed past A misguided young man for no one (let me tell it love)
A man finds a wife finds a GOOD THING
10/25/23
For Changed Past Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Fire Bird
For those who are spousal abusers
love doesn't hurt
For those who abuse children
love doesn't hurt
For the injustice in justice
Just this imagine it
All of the gall I seen it all
Yet in still
love doesn't hurt
6/30/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2022©
With spousal knot I sealed my fate,
With mom’s role, stepped up to the plate,
With grandkids bucket list all done,
The knot held fast through hectic run.
With mortgage paid and teeth in place,
It’s time to throttle down the pace,
And finally, to follow through
With dormant passions overdue.
Knitting is neat, yet I confess -
The bonding knot - my life’s success.
May 12, 2022
He said he would never hit her again
She wanted to believe him of course
Sincere and apologetic
Her children begged her not to
Her parents were askance
She has been killed now
A child sad
Abuse is
Living
Rage
Image by Pixabay
Quote by Paul the Apostle
Keola - Couplet
Revenge is not sweet. Getting EVEN with the girl of your dreams
is SO underneath HUSBANDS. Nest egg is not in schemes.
SHOULD he not plan for his future, a lifetime of LOVE and laughter,
and spousal lift where THEIR tenderness leans into the hereafter?
WIVES behave…what? Moreso, don’t be loud mouths or supreme
AS a Nile queen - THEIR behavior improper. Show esteem
for your OWN marriage and BODIES. HE, likewise, should behave,
as one WHO leads and LOVES, a prince of a guy, she longs to save.
HIS dalliances with other women could cost him his WIFE. That life,
now on the wire, with supposed haram LOVES, a tug o'war strife.
In contrast, look at HIMSELF and herself, side by side reflection.
See how they emerge and merge into one beautiful confection.
3/9/2022
I savor sunshine - its voracious heat
as I drizzle sweet lemonade
on my dehydrated tongue.
I dip my toes into the fondant
of lemon afternoon. You’ll find me
wading in the aquamarine swoon.
My coral-colored swimsuit, one piece
tease of a midsummer’s sea;
saltine-salvation with a tangerine squeeze.
Chartreuse eyes, like a key lime pie,
Ray-Ban protected ~ *
dessert winks at her sublime prize.
Quite crimson, I become, forgetting
to reapply sunscreen, with a rub-a-dub-dub,**
as I sunbathe near my ocean tub.
Clueless after hours on the beach,
my love dives into his watermelon treat,
a breach of spousal ethics to my cause.
With a pouty lip and grifting-tears, I con
his palm to soak me down with aloe vera,
and grant me two-fisted cocktail sips.
The saffron sun dips on the zephyr’d beach.
A welcoming arm rounds my shoulders ~
lavender and lilac speech of twilight.
4/9/2021
Contest: Changing Colors
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
Required words are highlighted in bold letters
Internal/End Rhymes
24 lines
Ray-Ban — brand of sunglasses
Rub-a-dub-dub — nursery rhyme
I smiled invitingly, the screen
Revealed woman of my ideal
Russian silk beauty, pure, unseen
Pillow lips, brush eyelash appeal
I said I could serve her well, my earnings
Would purchase nicest things of her yearnings
I'll fly her here, get her spousal visa
Her eyes alight, replied, "Sure... I'm Leeza"
" I need a man on good money"
I smiled, " Two fifty salary"
Her sqint, " Oh, it is that each month?"
Sense shrieked above smooth aesthetic
Her theme clearly spelt pretentious
- Need to switch her off, tremendous
2nd September 2020
Written for Contest: Charronet
Sponsor: Charles Messina
__
my notions float with sinuous breaths
tumbling upon creased pillows
while early dawn traces the nearing
crossroad between flawless noon
and inked twilight... yes, soon,
he will arrive granting me this balm
of solace, that which barren cycles
have untangled spousal harmony through
fractures and blood of a battlefield...
but destiny is not perfect, not when
letters take shape of a raven's beak
screeching this morning about fatality:
how incisive is the thorn of disclosure,
aching from a thwarted pact as
mornings of life will now stop rotating,
wheeling, unfolding in a pace where
I honor his dignity...without twilights,
without me.
-----------------------
The Promise Contest for Silent One
6/3/2020
ANOTHER CHANCE AT LOVE A NEW MARRIAGE- -
Haven’t anyone who loves me, but God;
No other person loves me, just God;
Seeking for some answers;
While visiting tabernacles;
Woo, oh, a woo oh
Where is she (he) now
I’m waiting for another chance in love;
A spousal ship… a new relationship;
Where is her (he) now?
Yes, I have Jesus and God
This covers the spiritual realm
What I’m searching for is a physical galore;
Praying for a help mate;
Someone physical to finish this fleshly life with;
Woo, oh, a woo oh
Where is she (he) now
I’ waiting for another chance at love;
A spousal ship… a new physical Godly relationship;
Where is her (he) now?
Somewhere out there
I’m waiting for another chance in love;
God send (her) him to me,
Oh! I wanna be embraced in the bonds of marriage
I’m waiting for another chance at love;
A spousal ship… a new physical Godly relationship;
Woo, oh, a woo oh
Where is she (he) now
I’m waiting for another chance at love;
7/26/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.
Do not fall in love with a poet:
Breakfast would be a couplet.
Lunch would be a quatrain:
Personified, pithy and prolix on metaphoric train.
Supper would be a sonnet:
Smithereens of oomphs, entangled in esurience's enmesh.
On the spousal sunshine,
He would sew suit of slant rhymes.
For how long he would last in bassinet:
Measured in Troche, dactyl, anaspetic or iambic pentameter.
Advice for the shavers and doxy:
Lofty metaphors Clothed in paradoxical antithesis.
Talk more of many other things,
Your home is hyperbole of poetry.
19:05:05:13:51
Ancestor. Ancestral Pen. Ancestral piece. SOS
First Whisper
As we embraced on our first date
you whispered softly in my ear
those gentle words that did endear,
and led me to exhilarate.
Into my ear your words rang true,
“I think that I could fall for you.”
Second Whisper
So long ago on wedding night
as we lay on our spousal bed
our marriage consummation led
to whispers in the soft moonlight.
Into my ear you did confide,
“I’m overjoyed to be your bride.”
Third Whisper
‘Twas on the morn our girl was born,
I saw the way you looked at her,
and in your heart your feelings stir;
our lives as one she did adorn.
And in her ear I heard you say,
“My baby girl you’ve made my day.”
Latest Whisper
And all those many years ago,
and on our journey through the years;
through all the laughs and all the tears,
and still today our hearts aglow.
Last night you whispered in my ear,
“I love you so; please hold me, dear.”
Epilog
I know I am a lucky man, been blessed throughout my life;
especially since our time began, so thankful for my wife.
August 9, 2018
As in my garden blooms a beauty fair,
a crimson rose to brighten up this day.
The dew drops cleanse her face in morning air,
but hiding ‘neath her leaves her thorns betray.
While lying next to you in spousal bed
I gaze upon your sleeping face this morn;
a face so fair as rose of crimson red,
and I recall the beauty’s hidden thorn.
Rose how could you betray me as you do,
and carry on your tryst so damnably,
while thinking that your thorns would hide from view,
and that your face be only thing I see.
Beware the beauty of the crimson rose;
her hidden thorns may cause your love’s depose.
July 31, 2018
AMERICA YOU'RE BROKEN
I was hurt once
you gave me a hug
And with that touch
Lord it wasn't sensual or sexual
Agape
America you are broken
Like a vase on a table
by an open window
fallen on to the floor
America you're broken
Lord you know we need real love, agape
Like a stroke
a blood vessel ruptured
life's blood flowing every where
civil unrest
school shootings
spousal abuse
children running loose
everyone right the truth
this has been spoken
America you are broken
5/17/17
written by James Edward Lee Sr.
©2017
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