So much to offer, so much to give
Knowledge, Artistry, plenty of good ideas
Word perfect, beautiful surface, and the smile
Loves deeply, loyal completely, wicked sexy style
So troubled, so Anxious, given too much pain
Depression, abusive men, she's crying reign
If only she could see what I see then maybe she could
She could be all of everything and not be misunderstood
I believe in almost nothing everything seems so untrue
But I do believe in this one thing...I believe in you...
bmdavey@09/20/2024
I use to be a man of logic, wrapped within my intellect.
The world neat and ordered, in a word perfect.
Right was right and left was left and n’er the twain should meet.
The politics of thought were static, savory and sweet.
Oh the innocence of youth.
A man of faith with little time to linger on the pain.
I blithely passed by every day, averting eyes again.
And in my house of worship was a box to aid the poor.
I often dropped in my two bits while walking out the door.
Oh aversion to the truth.
But now I am confronted by realities of life.
How caste-like is our system while we smile and twist the knife.
We blame those locked below us for the pain that we inflict.
And struggle to move higher, oh my friends we have been tricked.
How I struggle with the wonder.
What would be the end result if my pie piece should lose a sliver?
Would I even miss it were I a more generous giver?
How much is enough in this democracy of greed?
And where is my humanity within this life I lead?
Oh the questions that I ponder.
November! When the auburn autumn leaves
retard the tinkling brooks of Vallombrosa,
and kitchen chimneys draw the old ones closer:
when timid fieldmice nestle in the eaves
and oaken chests give up our longer sleeves,
and finer fabrics cede the game to grosser:
we close John Grisham, open Vargas LLosa:
Orion rises, and Arcturus grieves.
But sometimes there’s a gracious interlude.
Though winter waits offstage with all its lines
word-perfect, still a kind of summer shines.
The breeze feels older now, of muted mood,
not so disposed to boast its vital signs,
inclined to amble through the golden vines.
Sonnet composed: 10 November 2019
New Fall Sonnets Poetry Contest 2019
Sponsored by Emile Pinet
Truth*…
…Christ's Word, perfect…
…liberating, transforming, upholding…
…awed, amazed, affirmed, apprehended…
Wisdom!
John 1:17 …Grace and truth came by Jesus Christ.
June 5, 2019
Modern Cinquain
G-lobal mission to share the truth
L-ets you hold the light;
E-arly twentieth February,
N-ew dawn denies the
N-ight.
M-ission to spread the gospel,
U-sing the word perfect;
J-ust let the Monday break,
A-iming to
R-econnect.
There are tears in her eyes
As the door slams and the glass rattles
And she watches his retreating back:
His tight, hunched shoulders
Containing his anger and frustration.
She sits and waits, chain-smoking
Cheap king-size cigarettes,
Wanting a cup of tea, but waiting
Until he comes home again
Calmer, like he always does.
This scene is familiar and she,
Like him, is word-perfect in her role
One she’d played for far too long.
She is bored and afraid; not of him
But of change and the unknown.
Later, she places a steaming cup of tea
At his elbow and forces a smile,
Her mind not on him, but upstairs
And the large, heavy suitcase
In their bedroom.
The scene is near-identical
To the ones they’ve played-out before,
But this time she’s gone from player
To director and changed the script.
This performance demands a different ending.
She will exit, stage left
And bow out of this production.
After eighteen years in the starring role
Of the long-suffering wife and mother
She is back in the market again.
CUT!
When an old fashioned poet named Will
wrote a sonnet he chose words to thrill,
in a metrical time
with a word perfect rhyme
fourteen lines gently flowed from his quill.
This William he also wrote plays
that reflected the life in those days,
from Scotland McBeth
then to Denmark for death,
that Prince Hamlet he had funny ways.
With Anne Hathaway he'd often spoon
an experience he used very soon,
to pen a romance
put Juliet in a trance,
the very first print, Mills and Boon.
It's now or never,
for now is the time,
to write all your thoughts down
in word perfect rhyme.
In rhythm is beauty
as words all unfold,
to share all the stories
that you've never told.
No matter wherever,
with whom, or just when,
let all of your memories
bleed from your pen.
For someone may read them
and share in your dreams,
and sharing and caring
is all that life means.
A poem is sacred
when spilled from the heart,
in giving and taking
we all play our part.
Let all world's religions
take note of these lines,
you'll find perfect harmony
only in rhymes.
Ivor G Davies
You say that you Christian but then you start to judge,
but then you hear about someone and you start to hold a grudge,
If you say you read your bible then why do you cuss,
and then go off on someone and then make a huge fuss,
If you really knew Christ you wouldnt act like a fake Christian
and stop living for your self, yes this is my opion
see with out my Lord i dont know where i be,
i rather stop living for myself and Just live for my King,
See perfect people say that dont need God,
but can you really difine the word perfect and if you can you know thats just odd,
see a church isnt for the perfect but a hospital for the broken,
My Lord Jesus Christ stop treating him like a token,
see you say your a Christian but do you know what it really means,
its about being a follower to Jesus and treating him like your king,
see he died for you He was hung on a cross,
He died for your sins he paid the ulimate Cost,
my Lord Jesus Christ has made me believe,
that im not just a Person but im his follwer indeed
----Larissa Summitt
A Perfectionist sees where Perfection is not,
Often not seeing what they had ought.
For the word Perfect means a great lot
So stop being Perfect, accept it, you’re not.
And don’t expect others to give Perfection a shot
Because being Perfect cannot be taught.
So do away with Perfection don’t give it a thought,
And why not be happy with what you have got?
he's no musician
those aren't love songs he wrote
they're computer program notes
I slipped away in the nanosecond
it took him to blink
he doesn't know what hit him
maybe a floppy disk
falling from the sky
then again, it could've been
a hard drive
someone needs to hit his system reset button
it ain't me
some other girl can pickup
his dropped parity bit
or worry if everything she says
is word perfect
I've been through his disk drive wringer
probed by his oscilloscope
and had my best chips blown
now I'm sitting by my abacus
a smile on my lips
he can count me out
no modem's attached to my phone
drop me a line in pencil or ink
when you're powered down
then we can backspace delete
alt control home
I was prepared
I had it all planned out
Every word
Every gesture
Meticulously rehearsed
Till word perfect
I was prepared
For excitement
Unconfined joy
Tears of happiness
Words of love
And utter delight
I wasn’t prepared
For your reaction
Your unkind words
Your gestures
Tears of laughter
And utter rejection
I’ve always felt something for you, but I think that you know that. We’ve always had a really
special relationship. You could always finish my sentences, and you knew just what I was
thinking. You had a way to make me open up and let go, like no one else has. You always
treated me like a princess, and granted all of my wishes. You were, in a word, Perfect.
Then one day, it all fell apart. I wish I could know what you were thinking, how you felt. How
you saw it. I honestly thought we’d be together forever. You were just so special….you were
unlike all the others. Previously, I thought I’d been in love. I couldn’t have been more
wrong. You made everyone else look like lions, and you were the gentle lamb.
I hope you know how special you are to me, how I hold you close in my heart. No matter,
what, there will always bee a place for you there. Always. Just as you told me you would
always love me, I too will always love you.