PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant … October 11th, 2017

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3456)

What That Dude Sees in Me

I am not what you think I am

Always good or mostly bad

I am more than I appear to be

Sometimes happy, often sad

I am a believing soul

Filled with guilty doubt

I am usually half, rarely whole

Plagued by this childish pout

I know more than I recall

Fat I am, insisting I’m tall

My knack for offering sexual pleasure

Is rather limited, not beyond measure

I’m cranky when sweet is required

Full of fuss, rarely desired

I believe in myself to a fault

While questioning you and your result

I’m never nasty, but tart and sour

Squabbling over minutes, I then lose my hour

I am my father’s son and my mother’s little boy

I’m reminded things are good

But refuse to walk in joy

Yet yesterday a whisper caught my ear

I mustered the function to stop and hear

You were in need, I understood

Reaching out, did what I could

You called me an angel–I had to smile

Recounting my temper and fits of guile

Even though I’m riddled with delusion

I was truly uplifted by your conclusion

So a prayer I offered to the open sky

A humble plea, a dreamer’s cry

Lord, guide this chump to be

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PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant … July 19th, 2017

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3372)

 

YOU, DO, DO, BAY BLUE

Docile, for a while, see me smile, have no guile,

What a pile, I am vile, start the trial,

Change my style, the second mile, scan the aisle, for my file

Total denial, a revival,

Hit the street, who do you meet, don’t retreat, wash some feet

Face defeat, then delete, from the elite,

Just can’t beat, it’s so neat

Kind of dead, feels like lead, time for bed, where I’m led, underfed, tools in shed,

A sparrow clan, words, man, the lily can.

 

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PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant … April 13th, 2016

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(2903)

PoHymn Band Played

The Band Plays

Being snubbed

Wrong way rubbed

Feeling mean

Thoughts obscene

Needing air

Someone care

Trapped in a box

A collection of rocks

Fighting the rage

Turning the page

Sensitive to touch

Missing it too much

Crying for fairness

Probing for awareness

Stop staring at your “me”

And see the one that’s free

Prop open the door

Stop keeping score

Melt the frigid vicious

Warm the tepid malicious

Questing for a smile

Devoid of promotional guile

Spitting on the Earth

Origin of my birth

Escaping the empty proof

Shouting from the roof

“I am here! Please draw near!”

Just give me a chance

To catch up with the dance

Before you change the tune

The band plays too soon.

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PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant… May 27th, 2015

   Jonathots Daily Blog

(2593)

Pohymn May 27

Allow Me a Chance

I know the world is full of guile

But please allow me a chance to smile

I am fully aware of the anguish and pain

Yet reflect I will on remaining sane

To continue to believe in the common good

I must pursue what I think I should

For joining the shouting of the angry mob

Makes me nasty, failing at my job

Yes, I have a life that I must live

Solitary to me, my soul to give

A breath of peace to the exhausted clan

Remaining faithful to the glorious plan

For love is the only essence divine

Understanding one another the heavenly sign

So please, some room, a little space

To share my gift with the human race

By refusing to hurl that initial stone

Let people live, yea, leave them alone

Unless they cry out for a bit of relief

Perchance they desire some fresh belief

Then humbly I share the little I know

Gently support them as they grow

Step away, you cynics, and jaded fearful

Placing sweet hope in visions more cheerful. 

 

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PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant… April 8, 2015

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(2555)

PoHymn April 7th

I Am Not Sure

I am not sure

Of what is truly pure

I can not attest

To all that is best

I have come to note

Not stand afar and gloat

For there is much to learn

And little time to burn

So what do I need?

Is it seed or weed?

Shall I speak

Or silently seek?

Flash a winning smile

Or refrain from all guile?

I have questions, you see

The answers evade me

For following a star

Doesn’t get me too far

And staring at the sky

Answers where, but not why

Foolishness is the schemer

Patience the redeemer

But why should I wait

For an illusive fate

Yes, now is the season

And presence the reason

Live like a man

Grab what I can

Cast to the earth

Mothered by my girth

But is there divine

In this soul of mine?

Am I a son of Eden

Or a bastard, getting even?

The answers are deep

And much too cheap

To have lasting worth

Or afford a second birth

Yet I will apply

Until at last I die

A ferocious yearning

To everything a turning

And rejoice beyond measure

When I find a hidden treasure.

 

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