Politically Incorrect Hand Painted Love Poem

 A Breakfast Poem Baked with Love in the Sun

Written and posted by Jean-Louis 02/2011, Edited and amplified in 03/2033.

I am hereby registering my lament 

At the high court of discontent. 

If you can´t read The  Book 

Without giving me that "Woke" look

You won´t see

What you get,

When you get

What we see. 

 

In this world of Yin and Yang

We are forced to choose

To have our life hang

With the one or the other,

As in father or mother.

Or friends and foes 

Just to add to our woes

To win or lose

As in topsy-turvy or willy-nilly.

 

I am not talking about race

No, at least not the one you think

The kind that´s in your face

As antiquated antics

From the bully pulpit

From pie in the sky 

To pie in your face

Dems are touchy-feely no more

Reps are namby-pamby encore.

As for me, I am free,

Being right that I left,

Not being in the fold

Not fitting in the mold.
Not being one of the foxes
Feeling small in their boxes

Some like it hot

Some like it cold

Me, I declare my passion,

And choose the middle motion.

Having my country left,

Being right in the middle,

Where I want to  be  found

In the middle of your arms,           

Sipping coconut water,

Being enthralled

By the power of your charms.

Since we make such a great team
To add to my irreverence

I'll blow off some steam
And have a little blast

Playing the part of the iconoclast.

Some people declare seriously:

"Tis better to have loved and lost

Than to have not loved at all".
My slogan forever will be
engraved in bold

in honor of you and me,

"Tis better to be held than to behold".

Jean-Louis.

Anatomy of a Hope

 Written and Posted by Jean-Louis. 

Waiting as a passerby

His eyes lifted up

Toward the silent sky

On a desert sidewalk

His heart beating with hope

His index finger in the air

Moist in the morning dew

Attempting to caress

A soft breeze message clue

Querying the clouds

Bearing news

Could it be a happy harbinger

Or a heart well-wisher?

Time trickles with sighs

Putting on backwards

His mantle of memories

Void of senseless appeals

As a master teaser

Shaper of destinies

Ah, can faith harness

This fleeting happiness

This ultramarine dream

Love in its glory

Reflection of reality

This smoldering flame

Of their unsteady hearts

Outside on the threshold

The hand opens steady and bold

Gathering the delicious ripe fruit

Ineffable recompense

Of an unbreakable faith

The sidewalk fills up

With passing witnesses

cheering with one heart

And not forgetting the part

of lifting their index fingers
in gratitude to the One
who knew it from the start

Politically Incorrect Hand-Crafted Love Poem

A Breakfast Poem Baked with Love in the Sun

Written and posted by Jean-Louis 02/2011, Edited and amplified in 03/2033.

I am hereby registering my lament 

At the high court of discontent. 

If you can´t read The  Book 

Without giving me that "Woke" look

You won´t see

What you get,

When you get

What we see. 

 

In this world of Yin and Yang

We are forced to choose

To have our life hang

With the one or the other,

As in father or mother.

To win or lose

As in topsy-turvy and willy-nilly.

 

I am not talking about race

No, not the one you think

The kind that´s in your face

As antiquated antics

From the bully pulpit

From pie in the sky 

To pie in your face

Dems are touchy-feely no more

Reps are namby-pamby encore.

As for me, I am free,

Being right that I left,

Nobt being in the fold

Not fitting in the mold.
Not being one of the foxes
Feeling small in their boxes

Some like it hot

Some like it cold

Me, I declare my passion,

And choose the middle motion.

Having my country left,

Being right in the middle,

Where I want to  be  found

In the middle of your arms,           

Sipping coconut water,

Being enthralled

By the power of your charms.

Since we make such a great team
To add to my irreverence

I'll blow off some steam
And have a little blast

Playing the part of the iconoclast.

Some people declare seriously:

"Tis better to have loved and lost

Than to have not loved at all".
My slogan forever will be
engraved in bold

in honor of you and me,

"Tis better to be held than to behold".

Jean-Louis.

The Nights of Vila Sonia

Written and posted by Jean-Louis. 02/2013

Since this is Valentine´s week,  I thought it appropriate to post some love poems written to my dear sweet wife Mirian, my inspiration and my faitfhful travel companion.
I hope that it will help some of you men to rediscover the romantic bone in you that you might have lost along the way and forgotten that she is "bone of your bones and flesh of your flesh". Any spontaneous, sincere attempt at tickling her funny bone will be appreciated, I am sure. Your  gift  doesn´t have to be expensive, extravagant or outrageous. All she wants is your tender loving attention and appreciation.    
 

My dear love, precious muse

Your tenderness flows over my soul

And keeps me quieted down

In your sweet embrace

My being wrapped in you

Velvety and silky mother of pearl

Consecrated vase

Shared in silence

Prisoner locked without a key

Under the enchanted night

Half mist, half moon

Piercing with its sharp horns

The tenacious diaphanous veil

Challenging the wind

And the unceasing rain

In São Paulo,

City of illusions

Here you are Vila Sonia,

Suburb of dreams

Awoken by the nostalgia

Of a distant anxious melody

Lulling my weariness

With melancholy chords

Suspended by  its rhythms

Benevolent ambassadors

Musical streets vendors

Bring the flowery dawn

Of scarlet glory strewn

On a golden palette

By the indecisive heavenly

Host welcoming

In your unknown world

This exhausted traveler

With all its best efforts

The king of the day could not

Eclipse your inviting glance

And your noble bearing at last

Inviting me to share... breakfast.