IF YOU PULL A LONG FACE : Part XXVII
IF you pull a long poet's face
All things you write go awry
E'en fans who cuddle up offer no solace
Remember Kipling's " IF " the price to pay
If you pull a long deserted face
E'en friends plot with club members to assail
You lose will e'en to tie loose line shoe-lace
Damn could e'en petty sins cause such travail
If you go on pulling that long worsted face
Lines you lilt and rhyme sound airy-fairy
You push pen you powder verse till tears race
Creative college rhetoric plunder words weary
Yet if you pull this long-lined sick face
Grinding teeth biting lips till red ink spray
Ask who cut off Van Gogh's ear to spite his coal-mine face
Will a Gauguin mock a Brando's South-Seas belles-ballet
If you pull a long Art-for-Artifice sake face
Ask whose Kafkayesque trials plagued a Welles's Moro-Jacobean play
Holy-Wood chef-d'œuvres dictate classic post-modern pace
Kaleidoscopic formulae : rape batter murder on Tolstoyian vertebrae
© T. Wignesan - Paris, January 31, 2019
Categories:
worsted, art, poems, poetry, poets,
Form: Dramatic Monologue
Sometimes we speak the truth
Sometimes lies enter we accept this too
Sometimes those hidden things
Prevent us from happiness
So I recommend, instead of being conservative
Rejoice in, rejoice in it, the presents of the master
Of His Som Jesus and embrace them both
Embrace them in love, embrace both in love
So instead of being less fortunate
Allow yourself to be blessed
Let’s let the less fortunate allow yourself to be blessed
Less fortunate allow yourself to be blessed
Sometimes we speak the true-lies
Allow ourselves those hidden alibis
Remember your circumstance
And get over yourself
Rejoice in the presents of the Master
You could’ve been worsted off than you think
Needless to say your good yet stinks
In the nostrils of God in the present of God
So I recommend, instead of being conservative
Rejoice in, the presents of the master
Of His Son Jesus and embrace them both
Embrace them in love, embrace both in love;
So instead of being less fortunate
Allow yourself to be blessed
11/24/18
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.©2018
Categories:
worsted, analogy, appreciation, deep, devotion,
Form: Free verse
LESS FORTUNATE ALLOW YOURSELF
Sometimes we speak the tree;
Sometimes lies enter we accept the choice;
Sometimes those hidden things;
Prevent us from happiness;
So I recommend;
instead of being conservative;
Rejoice in, the present of the Master;
Of His Son embrace Him both in love;
And remember your circumstance;
Could be worsted off than you think;
There's someone somewhere else who's less blessed, less fortunate;
So just relax
Be yourself receive those blessings
And hold up, hold on
allow yourself to be blessed
11/21/18
written by James Edward Lee Sr. ©2018
Categories:
worsted, blessing, celebration,
Form: Light Verse
Stock
Lines derail trains made from stern stock
shunting worsted words in wagons to and fro
cabins depleted by looters piled on dock
signals distressed faces not any more
forefathers shape not their twisted progeny
when foremothers shunt them out of agony
the fear that might in the grain burst bunds
resides unformed in unwilling face
the dark inscrutable face of race
blood thinning through bastardized sons
forefathers shape not their twisted progeny
when foremothers shunt them out of agony
to guard the rhyme within the quatrain
no end of artifice will make for sacrifice
content lets form intertwine lines in vain
clickety-clack of the train lulls us nice
foremothers never think of their progeny
when forefathers shunt them out of agony
May 6, 1997
From the privately pub. coll. (rev. 2016): longhand notes (a binding of poems),1999, 115p.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2016
Categories:
worsted, creation, grandparents, grandson, poetry,
Form: Sonnet
Words are good as fairy tale!
They can never be for sale.
A depiction of real knowledge,
Key for a sweetest prestige
Steal it but you cannot!
Stains of plagiarism is so much of blot
Buy it for dollars with two eyes closed.
You’ll not go to have it for your pose.
Takes hours for an art to be finished,
Wisdom is truly undiminished.
Blood is refreshingly thirsted,
Hidden words aren't really filthy worsted
I say it’s not for sale!
This is not a story of same told tale.
You can force me but still you can’t!
These are poems that amazingly chant.
Categories:
worsted, poems, poetry,
Form: Rhyme
My sorrow, when she's not here with me,
These dark days of winter rain
Are beautiful as days can be;
She loved to walk, the withered path
Along the sodden pasture lane.
Her Pleasure will not let me stray.
She talks and I am away with the mist;
She scares the birds away,
I'm glad her simple ways worsted gray
A silver light glisten now.
Yesterday I learnt to know,
The love of bare December days
She thinks I have no eyes to see
As she's moulding out there.
Categories:
worsted, december,
Form: Free verse
My sorrow, when she's not here with me,
These dark days of winter rain
Are beautiful as days can be;
She loved to walk, the withered path
Along the sodden pasture lane.
Her pleasure will not let me stray
She talks and I am away with the mist:
She scares the birds away,
I'm glad her simple ways worsted gray
A silver light glisten now.
Yesterday I learnt to know
The love of bare December days.
She thinks I have no eyes to see
As she's moulding out there.
Categories:
worsted, hurt,
Form: Verse
Gee Whiz
I ate a sandwich made of wurst
with four large beers to quench my thirst
because my clothing was of worsted
I was extremely hot and really thirsted
I drank some more and nearly bursted
I ran to the john to relieve my pain
I had to wait for I wasn't firsted
when it was free I hurriedly ran
the whiz came out like heavy rain
after relief I repeated the act
and then went home for another snack
©Ralph Sergi Contest
Categories:
worsted, humorous,
Form: Rhyme
The truth is always bitter
I have never known
Its authenticity
Till now
When I learnt that...
...the past haunts...
I had it well covered
Or so it seems to me
But yet it leaked
Nay!
It burst...
...the past haunts...
A false fabric I clad
Deceit it was worsted in
Yet in it I rejoice
Till nemesis caught me...
...the past haunts...
Now...
Peace has deserted me
Fear is flourishing
War, I called
Inadvertently
When numerous souls
I robbed
Of their rights
Thinking it is sealed
Airtight!
But...
...the past haunts...
All gone
I alone
Peace out
Happiness far
War in
Sorrow is food
Sadness, water...
...the past haunts...
Pity me not
I worked hard for it
And it I earned.
My hand toiled for it
So I eat the fruits
Of my labour...
...the past haunts...
Hearken ye!
To the words of
One who all has seen.
Albeit
My words smelleth
In thine ears
But when thou reapsth
Thy fruit
Thou shalt remember my words
That....
...the past haunts...
Categories:
worsted, wisdom
Form: Blank verse