Burly Brawn gets up at the crack of dawn
Cracks his knuckles, morning dew on the lawn
Black hair curly, so surly was Burly
Beware of which side of the street you're on
Devilish, like ancient seeds, the sown fields please with ease, and each September the rains grow and fall river Massachusettes is bringing the bride, to Massachusetts like surly swindled brides, one married, one dead, the mother-in-law, fettered in bed.
Superlatives are my mean, my methods my mode the moony mock-Ra glass marble fables untold, the story fair, the hair golden, a new golden thread, bursts from the olden, like streams of pasturesque villages that trickle in the floods of which inundate the past, such a surly hub.
Only God is good, and all good things comes from above,
so He fills His children, with His unwavering love.
To love, to grow, to flourish and shine,
to forgive, and to forget, as He did yours and mine.
To do good, is also Godly you see,
for the goodness of the Lord, is inside of you and me.
To learn from the bad, as we walk in the good,
to treat others, as we know we should.
As we walk from the goodness of our heart,
we give the HolySpirit His true part.
To be a true child of God, goodness must reign,
or from the shadows of the heart, we feel it’s pain.
Be unwavering, steadfast and surly true,
let the goodness of God, shine through you!
I'm an unappreciative outsider unwilling to
bestow undeserved largesse or kudos for
sloppy "service". I express my displeasure
towards lazy incompetence; this gets me
critical complaints from dinner companions
for being "mean" to hourly workers who are
largely dependent upon gratuities from hungry
customers. I feel no obligation to reward surly
creatures I have never before encountered
nor abused. I simply want them to realize that
I will only pay for services freely rendered --
pleasant interactions with people who truly
and ably do their chosen job (they are not
indentured servants nor purchased slaves.)
They should, at least, be civil and, if not
exactly smiling, project intent to please,
to create an intentional atmosphere of
shared good humor. Let's all enjoy our
outings and be generous with the tips
we leave (when they are deserved!)
Enough said!
admis the high hierarchy
a meeting of laden minds
corrupted abiding in their authority,
power selfless importance bind
We manage our own doom
Doomsday is our focus
Eternity is our home
Destruction future flits history
3/24/26
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2026©
.
lock'd are mine mawz
grip'd by vinter
it's froze'd
rust'd
stick'd
'tiz thuh early spring
surly
dorothy will be come'n
any day now
most likely in uh
diaphanous vernal
frock
i need
uh uv
bit
earl
have uh heart
Have you ever had the feeling, something is watching you,
these words that I write, they are surly true.
Those feelings turn to emotions, bringing forth their fear,
as you feel the darkness, draws so deathly near.
You scurry in fright, from things you cannot see,
now realizing, how true this moment be.
As you think your safe, you turn for one last look,
as the fear trembles, in your bones you shook.
Many times has this happened, before I could truly see,
oh how that darkness, comes for you and me.
In a world of chaos and confusion, to these things that be,
sometimes we can feel them, but we cannot see.
Take a good look around you, watch and beware,
those spirits are out watching, without a care.
Those spirits, sometimes come in human forms,
in your life, they cause you many storms.
They come in different varieties, each has it’s own unique desire,
therefore with God, it is the Holy Ghost, and fire.
When His Spirits are present, it’s a brand new way,
when the darkness comes for you, it’s beaten to bray.
No more, will you run in fear, it falls at your feet, you see,
when we stand in the truth, over these things we will be.
Sesame Street has gone rogue.
Surly nasty nightmares stir into my darkness.
Sleep will not come easy.
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
.
surly soundz so
weak
'tramp'
for when edvard
movez
there thump
thuh
be
save sexie
edvard'z
soft
'proach'n
eve
The fog stumbles in on fingers of gray,
A surly bell peals to escape the day.
The gas lamp turned with a squeaking sound,
On the stony bluffs, a spirit is found.
A watcher lingers who cannot sleep,
For essences lost in the endless deep.
His abandoning light is not for ships,
Albeit for the rumored, ancient lips.
Their nippy sighs upon the breeze,
A bleak comfort, if you please.
So keep your distance from the shore,
And do not knock upon the lighthouse door.
The titan has departed.
The legend has entered the hall of heroes.
The enigma has joined the pantheon of immortals.
Kenya’s torchbearer of democracy has crossed over.
Africa’s voice of conscience has become one with eternity.
The world’s statesman has slipped the surly bonds of earth.
His voice is stilled, yet his dream roars still.
His body is silent, yet his vision breathes on.
Rest in Power, Agwambo.
Said Fred, the resentful Doorman,
(overworked and underpaid)
to Ed, the surly Foreman,
(overrated yet undismayed)
'I'll call you a cab, if you beckon,
you'll want a quick getaway, I reckon,'
and snidely sniggered,
under his breath, 'You're a hack!'
surprising the top nob on the job,
as, Fred had the knack
of insulting, without denigrating,
and yet, debating
whether to hold a grudge,
Ed decided, 'Yes,' but not a big one,
which he couldn't carry, as it wouldn't budge.
And altho', toe to toe,
the two did not see eye to eye,
so, trading barbed epithets
and loud expletives on the fly,
they let go at one another,
I don't know, so don't ask me why.
Smokes in the mirror
Violence don’t solve no peace brother
So let harmonize our mind to one accord for the sake of love
I have no blood on my hands brother
So water my seed to grow in peace
Oh God
Cos I have paid my dues with love
And my life is an example of a true sacrifice
There is always a better days ahead
Even when am fallen
Grace shall find my spirit again
And surly nothing can be impossible to achieve no more
So water my seed to grow in peace
Oh God
Cos i have paid my dues with love
My sacrifices will spark
goodness not the
Smokes in the mirror
The wind is blowing softly like words spoken
in ancient temples built of stone, sharply hewn
from quarries dug in highland hills made barren
by creatures come to claim the woodland cedars,
for sacrifice and beauty they were chosen
to entrance us in the tapestry of weavers,
the goddesses of destiny and devotion
to the patterns of the silken threads, attuned~
the Fates decree, and who are we to question?
Listen to the wind as it swirls around decayed
headstones, hear it laughing like a ghost of yore,
or is it stirring trouble like a goblin crazed,
come to torment those awaiting somber tidings
of life once colored joyful, but now unglazed
by pale spectors and surly death's grim reapers,
and so the seasons tumble onward through decades,
dumb to pleasure, love or laughter, ever after
in a place where hopeless drudgery remains~
Listen to the wind now wailing winter's warning.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.