Once well-intended
morning sun alarmed my rise
voices stirred the field
tasks like steady watering —
enlisted day's living work
Then the old gates closed
the pathway seldom walked choked —
soil forgot the spade
plants shrank back for want of care
petals curled back deep within
Left unattended
the garden grows weeds of woe
memory withers —
branches sag beneath own weight
the reek of neglect lingers
Yet the ground still sighs
waiting for hand to return —
the soil lies furrowed
awaiting seeds cast resown
to sprout green in silent spring
Time to grasp the rake
kneel again between the rows
weed the listless out —
let gardening be mind's cure
for hiatus after frost
As so many shoppers
consistently doing all manner of wrong
fail to return their trolleys
from whence they came to where they belong
it really irks when I leave work
drive my hybrid to the supermarket
circle the car park for what seems hours
and can't find a place to park it
the question may seem odd to some
and yet I have to ask it
why don't those self-same lazy people
do to it what they'd do with a shopping basket
We're going on vacation
Words innocent and pure
Visions of sun and beaches
Are conjured up for sure
The marketers are genius
At portraying family bliss
A carefree family skipping
Through waves not to be missed
But just below the surface
Lurk undertones of woe
The preparations necessary
Belay the surface glow
The focus turns to prepping
The job, the house the yard
The feeding of the pets
The domicile to guard
And then there is the packing
The lists, and lists of lists
And luggage bulging at the seams
I think you get the gist
And finally departure
On crowded roads no less
Who turned off the oven
We fret and try to guess
Perpetual construction
And hours of sitting still
Are we there yet yell the children
It's pure parental hell
So if you didn't need one
When planning this vacay
You certainly do now
I hope it goes your way!
My heart is lost in depth of woes,
While sorrows echo loud.
As tears descend with silent throes~
Beneath a veil of cloud.
In the dark I grope for my lost heart,
But it's slipped beyond my firm grip.
Each tear I shed softens its grave,
And deeper it sinks, out of reach.
My anguish drums a hollow grief,
No hope of joy or smile.
My mind is caged in disbelief—
It may remain awhile.
I need no soothsayer to tell me—
I’m already buried in its depth.
My cries are aches without relief,
And I can’t restrain the tears.
It's far beyond all hope or aid,
I know—so others do.
Though cries may rise and voices fade,
None brings the lost I rue.
Face like a bulldog
She didn't understand "no"
She is the puppet master
Saint Paddy’s Day came and it went.
A gastronomical event.
the food was spot on,
my arteries groan
I’m sorely in need of a stent!
Written: January 10, 2025
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wenches of Whimsy and Woe
In the world of the fiddled gruntingly,
where micturitions dance,
and arty yawning plurdled gabbleblotchits,
lurgid bees buzz with mordacious glee.
Eardges justle and grumble,
festering infectious organ squealers,
gnawing at the edges excruciatingly,
Intergalactic highways scream,
echoing in their lavish friars.
Gandersalps gleam in the grim groggy gloom
graceful gliding gallant swarupincrafts majestically soar
whoop, wail, wassail wondrous rowan wood
cormulent chitchat flickers like flames
Elevate the mundane,
let foolishness dissolve into the ether,
In the charm of nostalgia, we find the replevy abyss,
Paraprosdokian twists lift us higher.
Triskaidekaphobia slumbers wrapped in jest.
Schadenfreude influences us as
katabatic whispers from the abyss fade away
callipygian figures emerge,
bringing moments of unexpected joy.
Vessels overflowing with dreams,
countehsee the orbs and clusters
while Guinevere gazes, sly and wise,
clipshank the past, whitebootz to come
Here as we meander in whimsical unfolding
the cast
and call…we’re tight
the shelves are high and tip
of toes supposed to lift…must ask
for help
In Agbada's flowing folds
—a masquerade of pride,
A dance of deception, where skills are hard to hide.
Like play, like play, Wazobia's woes unfold
—a tale of woes, where darkness takes its toll.
Bad governance
—a hydra-headed beast,
Feasting on hope, leaving only despair to feast.
Youthful dreams like embers, flicker and fade,
As leaders weave a web of deceit
—a tapestry of shade.
Their hearts
—a labyrinth of greed and guile,
Where right and wrong are mere pawns in a wicked smile.
They know the right, but wrong is their heart's desire,
A Faustian bargain, where souls are set on fire.
But what of those left behind, in this bleak land?
Will their good life come, or forever lost in the sand?
Only time will tell, as the earth rotates in pain.
a bathroom skirmish
eighth grade gang of bullies
middle school woes
Petals drenched in poison pearls of emerald envy,
carefully placed objectives whilst adrift in my tears of realization
Longing sorrowful souls among lilac lakes,
buried deep into somber depths of tinkering procrastination
Starving for ruby righteousness and pristine perfection, and yet still reaching towards a tilt heart searching desperately sunset embers
Distinguishing luminescent authenticity among
bittersweet endives drifts away with each cooling December
Shall I pursue soft screams for kissed loving
ethereal roses dazzled with enchanting sensations
To float away from every twisted hazing hoax with every spoken whirling weapon - coated with fabrications
August 24 Praises to God Bible Meditations Based on Jeremiah 45-47
Key Verse – Jeremiah 45:3 Thou didst say, Woe is me now! for the LORD hath added grief to my sorrow; I fainted in my sighing, and I find no rest.
PRAISE BE TO GOD FOR HIS HELP AGAINST OUR WOES
Praise be to God for helping us in our woes since He:
Grants us His grace midst our guilt
Gives us His goodness along our griefs
Guides us with His gentleness and gladness
Governs us by His grandeur always guarding
Girds us upon His generosity against our greed
Jeremiah 46:28 Praise be to the Lord for
correcting us by:
Smiting our pride
Seeking our praise
Showing our poverty
Shaping our personality
Subduing our perversion
Jeremiah 47:4 Praise be to the Saviour for
shielding us against spoilage to:
Deliver us from destructive disaster
Direct us toward determined decision
Draw us to Him by His delightful defense
Drive us away from discouraging distraction
Declare to us His distinctives on which we depend. Amen!
August 24, 2024
Memories tell lies,
“Behind enemy lines” is getting caught in my mind.
But “two twos” overslept,
Behind glossed over eyes the secrets are kept.
So memories tell lies,
That you already know.
My youth kept inside hides,
That’s something I just couldn’t let go.
That self supremacy just wouldn’t die,
Why,
Oh why shouldn’t I just forget my woes?
Over obsessively weighing cons against pros,
The case only gets closed whenever the answers are known.
Heart beats keep pace,
Decaying on the longer blood flows.
Sour and tart,
Life’s an acquired taste,
Some don’t mind waiting as the cancer just grows.
But hearts need to race,
Down roads with no clue wherever it goes.
I’m chasing being alive,
I just know that I’m close.
I’m chasing down my life,
To see the “Ro” I miss most.
Memories tell lies,
Sincerely yours,
One of the guys.
Meant to say, "I miss you." No, it won't take long. The longing kept going and going; it's
gone.
Is there a reason I see you in song? The song remains the same except when stations
change.
Instances of tempted moments held in my head, forgot how it felt to roam on our old
homestead.
When thinking, sat sleeping for mere moments just to spend.
Up ahead, inside a booth, perhaps it'll contain you.
The day repeats; this place is the same.
To think that I'll see you again.
I have not before. Perhaps today's different; please
broaden my perspective.
I've been daydreaming of red lips and Cleopatra's eyes.
I plead to the god of romance, let me please spend me this time dreaming of red lips
and Cleopatra's eyes.
I ask for too much; this, yes, I know.
Happy and go-lucky, Independence freed.
Don't let this toll toil and dream of taking from me.
Written on Dec-1-2023
© William Paul-Eric Rodriguez
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Sing the songs of an angel.
Luminous blinding light at night.
Perpetual faith consumes the sight.
The woes of a crying child.
Pains my ears every night.
Slaughtered heart.
Venomous blood.
All I knew was pain.
Trusting my gut.
Begging for help.
Yet the pains are kept.
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