Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership




Introspection Education Poems | Introspection Poems About Education

These Introspection Education poems are examples of Introspection poems about Education. These are the best examples of Introspection Education poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

Details | Free verse | |

Didn't Don't

Somebody keeps pulling on the rope to swing the bells
           didn't don't       
           didn't don't
They toll for me.

Don't touch it. Don't say it. Don't do it. 
Don't doubt it. Don't think. Don't ...

Somebody handcuffs my steps,
determines my boundaries.
Before I fully understand free will
there is a slap on my head
            and phosphenes like stars
            command my orbit.
Before I recognize differences
there is a slap on my hand
            right hand, not left hand,
            never ambidextrous

Time out
its isolation without trial
to learn
to fear wrongdoing 
to allow them to remote-control my existence,
conditional on demand, frightening.

An aborted freedom escaping
into the sewer
trying not to get it on the seat
attempting to prove an alibi 
                    for being alive
No one cares, not even myself.

Somebody pulls on the rope to swing the bells
           didn't don't       
           didn't don't
They toll for me.
It's dirty. It's ugly. It's bad. It's poo. It's sin.

commitments, commandments
salvation, damnation

Sometimes
deception makes them ring in a low tone.
Sometimes
I do what they say, 
 and not what they do,
  and not what I want,
   and not what I think.

Through     fragments     of     this     duplicity
                                  and     this     duplicity
I would be able to rebuild myself and Myself
into another hypocritical being;
the intentional perversion of the self proclaimed truth,
the liar paradox to reign
through tricks and cotton swabs.

When the remorseless hours run counterclockwise,
I would be happy of imaginary experiences,
consistently depurated, consistently believed to be true.
             
Would I dare to examine the society in which I've been educated and raised?
Would I dare rip my skin, my flesh off of my bones?

How could I blame them? 
How could I possibly judge them?

Social order and obedience 
in confabulation, in conspiracy, in complicity

Somebody will keep pulling on the rope
to swing the bells; they will toll for me:
the one who guards his own cell.

Cause I'm the jailer, and the convict, and the crime.

.

Copyright © Ruben O.

Details | Free verse | |

Oneness

Oneness
                   Authored by Chuck Keys

It had no color,
Lacking shape, size and dimension.
It wasn't moving or breathing.

There was neither aroma nor taste, not here or there.
Touching was useless because it wasn't physical.
It was indistinct and limitless.

Thinking multi-physically
Multi-sensually and multi-psychologically 
It wasn't here or there and it was.

With no distinction, 
It looked like everything else,
Or it could not have looked like everything else.

It never made me feel good nor bad,
Nor happy nor sad
Nor quite nor trite.

In our world of joy and destroy, we sort and distort,
Looking more on the surface and less on the inside,
Ready to judge and be judged from outside in.

The "oneness" of mankind stretches beyond definitions and limits,
From outside to inside and from inside to outside.
We are one distinct and alike world of "oneness."

Differences exist for differences, 
Therefore, differences don't exist.
Only "oneness" exists.

DEDICATION:
This poem is dedicated to Dr. Clayborne Carson and The Gandhi-King Community,
For Global Peace with Social Justice in a Sustainable Environment.  
www.gandhiking.ning.com

Copyright © Chuck Keys

Details | Epic | |

The Truth Room

Come with me my Brother,
to a secret place where Light and Shadow line the face with fear and grace,
leave sophmoric style, wry smile and sly bile on the road of your forgotten mile,
sick sarcasm is the symptom of envy, a pet to your heart destroyer,
such artifice and malice have no language in this room of roasted dreams,

Enter through the damaged door, touch the destruction of vandals,
you have never been here before, where gold blood cuts the floor,
do you see how the walls move like squalls at our approach,
feel how they tell stories with the sensations of defeat, anxiety, impropriety,
in here we witness a collection of seperate yet synthesized segments of Self,
childhood torment, shallow manhood, virility limp as stolen victory,
underachievement, the underbelly of your arrogance, flacid like placid passion,

We journey further into this gallery of emotional gallows
smelt by the hurt of innumerable adavances
repelled by the demands of Quality,
you will writhe wildly
from the harrowing healing leeching into your concepts of self control,
graceful in absorbtion of Truth's attrition,
fruitless ambition shall now cling as cleaving contrition,
your face Brother, look long into the shimmer of sorrow become the old,
tattooed you are like a snake's skin checkered and beautiful
with scaled episodes of submission and aggression, dying to be Divine,
I want you to know that there is no exit of ease from this place Brother,
we trek within your very Soul,
this is the home and harbor of everything you've decided to be,
there are other rooms here, some of joy and some of strife,
but you leave not the Truth Room of your anger
until the Light finds no fault in your intention -

J.A.B.

Copyright © Justin Bordner

Details | Limerick | |

The Last Laugh?

Democracy now that is a laugh
When the voting is all stacked with graft
And I will give you a plug
If you punch out that lug
If you believe me you’re really daft!

You say you’re poor and you’re not real able
To put food and some bucks on the table
Just right say the rich
Starve and don’t *itch
Or drop by and muck out my stable!

Grad’s from Vassar and Yale all abhor
Those in Appalachia with dirt floors
But they own the coal mines
And their wealth is refined
They won’t mess up their minds keeping score.

You can’t get a real education
In this righteous American nation
Well go read a book
Or go shoot a crook
Rise to your appropriate station!


Copyright © Debbie Guzzi

Details | Tanka | |

Recycled Souls Recycled Memories

Recycled souls have Many chances; many lives The wheel of life turns Education takes some time; Humans are quite forgetful.

Copyright © M. L. Kiser

Details | Couplet | |

MOLESTED

I was a bright, outgoing boy, who sat at the front of the class.
Then, one day that all changed, i feared to even raise my hand for a pass.

I had many close friends, loved sports and school plays.
Then on that day fear beset me, and long gone were those days.

I remember my school, i knew it inside and out.
But now i have blank spots, certain things i've shut out.

Thanks to God and His mercy, i don't recall that foul act.
But i know that it happened, no doubt, that's a fact.

Now, to the person who did this, i have nothing to say.
But, my God will remember, and He'll get you someday!

Copyright © stanley copley

Details | Free verse | |

You Can't Hurt Me

Resounding echoes awaken the child
demons in the attic beckon unto him
stark fear grips his Vick's laden chest
shivers vibrate rusty springs of down

footsteps creak closer upon loose floorboards
while steamed filled pipes play taps
a somber teddybear snarls
causing the world to be still

foolish nuns, God doesn't want to "get me"

the sting of a ruler splinters a left hand
blood spurts upon faces of laughter
evil little boy too wicked for a mother
affliction runs in the family

Florence became flop because she always fell
polio never whipped her ass
just abused her now and then
she healed with a smile

Even humility has its price

Jimmy Dean wore sunglasses
maybe his eyes were bloodshot
or maybe he was a child of an alcoholic
and they became part of his attire

degenerate eye disease, masturbation
spattering or battering
does it really matter when you can't see
or understand the difference between ADD and ADHD

Psych 101: Crack can be Prozac

Iron gates surround a new residence
protecting the innocent who peer from outside
rehabilitation means refining bad habits
like those on the outside who have mastered them

twelve years of bars and games people play
provide an education unto itself
seclusion can be the deciding factor
between murder or suicide

self righteous judges choose life

recidivism is a revolving door
of vicious cycles with no engines
only propellers called co-dependants
or co-defendants, take your pick

life repeats itself over and over
only the circumstances change
yet the merry-go-round stops
when the flowers are arranged

Why are most tombstones gray

scared, afraid to die
are you saved?
from what, ourselves
you can't hurt me

Bob Shank-Nov. 30th, 2006

Copyright © Bob shank

Details | Free verse | |

Interalphabetnet sex stew



Primose path leads to the slaughter of American
dream delete pause proficiency with internetty
webbegone after thoughts of yahoo googleyed 
interred intracacises that shed benign capsules of
 mom entary apple pie delquiences cooling 
the soul shopping for the next alias avenue of
pointless me procurement mauling an ongoing
onerous dildodate vis a vie meme.com/me in 
an engaging omnipresence of sextext no tact
spell ckeck chicshicshakplak no sense tic tac.
Talk? Walk? Balk? Chalk? Sue? Sulk? 
Dinosaur diligence posse with the senior
gestages gestulating, we r forevre 21 and ying yang 
dung. Yes, good f ing luck with that!! Look at your 
petridish parents and see what box u check to lid close
and abscond with the lost liberal leftovers. That
is you in reverse in a few carnal years after Hilter youth
children decide to screw us as the new 
generation which skewer post present parental postulates 
to the oldster outhouse outlets so u can be "youf" free. Little
do they notknow as they cumulatively co opulate 
that they set the stooge stage for no thanx ahole actions. 
The DOS does'nt fall from the Apple tree. Leave it, 
love it, learn it while ye may, the kid crisp cosmos of
offspring social dicktates are biting at your heartbeatbit 
empty elmo enterprises. Pause parenatal prenatal
preferences prepearing perinatal persons pretasking
postnatal practices, in which you have veno papa preparation.
Think before you For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge and Analyze
your ass-incarnate initiate. Borrow berofe u basterdize, 
condomize before u copu culminate, decide before
u dicktate, envision before u envy, fail before u foil, 
grasp before u germinate, halt before u hinder, 
illuminate before u illerate, jump before u jinx, 
kill before u keep, love before u lay, meaning before
moaning, neutralize before u now, obilerate before
u ooops! presence before predicament, quit before
quake, resilience before ridiculous, sanity before
sexusensuality, thinkth before u thumpth, utilize
before u unionize, victory before victimization, we 
before want, xx nor xy, zen before zeal. Pocket 
passion files fly in the face of ruined reason residules
to the point of pronounced perplextion plagued 
prominantly with no recall references to problematic 
protocals for near north normalicies in my buckeye
life measures of simpatico silly symbiosis sublime
of mini me monophile mucous made misdemeanor
milktoast memories. Pass go, collect $200.


Copyright © Dave Collins

Details | Free verse | |

Rusted Nail

Today, upon the ground, I found a rusted nail.
Red and yellowed since its use,
It was caked and swollen; cracked lines top to bottom
With one turn in its body where last it was removed.
And the head was tilted slightly from a blow
Received when it was first employed and put to use.
I pondered of the purpose it had served
And the structure it had helped to hold and form.
I recognized its shape having spent many days 
With hammer in my hand and blueprint in mind.
I have straightened many that were pulled and bent 
And drove them to serve purpose.
Once this nail had value and function was providence.
Now, it fills a wrinkle of my palm 
And leads me to wonder….
What will someday become of me?
Will a member of the generation born this day
Look upon me and speculate my past,
And weigh my usefulness against my keep?
Will I present as bent?
And, will the balding gray and shortened step
Persuade them I have passed my day of worth? 
Or, will they look about their world 
And see what I have made?
So much from just one rusted nail. 


4th place in "Darn I Wish I Wrote This" on 6-26-12

Copyright © Ray Dillard

Details | Free verse | |

I'm Your King

A burst of white light gamma rays, overbearing a flash of brilliance burns through to my soul everything is like hell the world starts to melt in the blink of an eye just the cold blackness of night I don't care if I am not again what I once was, for at this moment I am greater now than ever before I took the path between teetering, tight roping walking right up to my right divined in my unholy state I thought I told you I am your king still you sit there, hesitating I know you hate me what does that mean? I hate just about everything still I'm chosen I did not wish before now bow down to me refuse me no more for I shall always be your demon until you accept me as your King. I don't even know you though you say we used to be best of friends, you and me the day you ditched me I remember now exactly how it played out back when we were just tiny things even back then I still was King you thought me stupid just a ruse I would laugh inside, you see? not one of you single, mean people ever even knew me in a world, mostly seen to me that is why only I can be your true King and bring forth a new source of light everlasting. As two worlds collide slowly aligned one wrapped in shadows one bathed in white evils swirling in the clouds above I'll always be the king you love to hate or despise as in your blood I thought I told you, I am the one I am the way, the way out shall be shown breathe in my spirit as it carries you away breathe in my faith it shall carry your empty space and deposit you gently on a cloud just enough higher than you've ever dreamed of for I am king now, and your in my hell your in my imagination, I'll just never tell you'll feel as though dreaming, you'll feel now if you try and see you were always found the most shared in the light cast upon me the last bright star in heaven. Denounce my name, if you may One year later, still not afraid A black sheep, a darkened spade That's just life, I'm not right I'm in the wrong, follow along Like a piper, I'll pitch a song Mesmerized, the weak wills sing I thought he told you, he's still our king.

Copyright © Bj Fard

Details | Quatrain | |

A WORD IN A BOOK

A WORD IN A BOOK


No book is  written with one word
No matter how vital it may appear   
For that we carefully have to think
Every word, for the book, is so dear

A verb, an adjective, a noun one may be
That describes what we are and do 
Or he is a period, a colon or a comma
That emphasis puts and gives us a clue  

Each of us a meaningful role plays 
In life’s voluminous book sublime  
On the chapter titled “Humanity”
In the paragraph of space and time

None of us more significant must feel
From the other words next in line
Regardless how trivial they may seem 
It is them that our functions define 

Our gratitude to all words around us
At every instance we have to show
For without their valuable presence
We would never be able to glow   

What kind of a word “king” would be
What sort that of a “general” of glory 
If “subjects” and “soldiers” were not there
To assist them write their story?



© Demetrios Trifiatis
   01 NOVEMBER 2013

Copyright © Demetrios Trifiatis

Details | Haiku | |

It is now

Ain't a word, you said.
but it takes a daring gust 
for things start to be.

Copyright © viviane leite

Details | Haiku | |

' Metaphysical Moment (The Haiku)

Metaphysical Moment (The Haiku)

           Understanding A
       Metaphysical Moment …
       … Nature’s Mysteries



                 This Haiku is for:
       The Haiku Master ‘Raul’ Moreno
Metaphysical Poet Extraordinaire’ (smile))

                        MoonBee

Copyright © MoonBee Canady

Details | Rhyme | |

It's Time to Change

How did you feel when you woke? Were you frightened or lonely, or was your heart broke? Do you feel alone or sometimes afraid? Is it clear that your life’s not meeting the grade? Do you feel uncomfortable in your own skin? Do you feel that you’re losing, but just want to win? Are you having remorse about what could have been? If so, then it’s time to grab paper and pen. Jot some things down you’d like to achieve. Then read them each day and start to believe. We cannot go back and change the past! Standing still today, just won’t last. So get ready, prepare, and take care of your needs. It’s time to firmly plant His seeds. Start with yourself and the rest will follow. I know right now it’s hard to swallow. Be gentle and patient, for there is no doubt, you’ve been hurting so long, both inside and out. If you know in your heart that something’s askew, you must be willing and ready to start anew! There’s help for you along the way. You’ll receive it for sure, so start to pray. Dear God, Please show me where to start. To You, I know I must open my heart. So say each day, “Thy Will Be Done”, and you’ll see it, I’m sure, but just don’t run. Be open and willing to hear and see, all that He is calling you to be. Follow His signs and stay on the road, and when you ask He’ll help bear the load. Don’t bring excess baggage for this trip. Keep it simple, you see or you just might slip. You need to remember to stay on track. Once you start, hold nothing back. For the new road you find is the only way. You’ll get there soon, if you just don’t stray. Now is the time for discipline and prayer. You’ll start to believe you’re in His care. As you practice and try to do the right things, you’ll be eager to see what the next day brings. Your life will be flooded with joy and gladness, and you’ll know he’s there in times of sadness. Life is still life, but just stop and think. Nothing is solved by making a stink! So put all your worries in God’s hands today! There’s no reason to keep them, let go and just pray. I know that miracles do come true. Have faith and His promises will be given to you.
Michelle D. ©October 17, 2006

Copyright © Michelle DeGironemo

Details | Free verse | |

Growing Up With The Language of Kings

I always had this fascination with the English language. 
Ever since I learned to read and write, 
it captivated my interest, beside my own native tongue;
Opening for me a whole new world different from my own -
A world of kingdoms, of princesses and princes, of queens and kings,
of knights in shining armor, of noblemen and the common man,
of many innumerable things.

A child who found such joy in a second language or third
would feel like a traitor to her own when deep nationalism 
is rooted in her bones.  It was not easy.

And yet the fascination remained – despite being inculcated 
with heavy ideas on love for motherland and in the words of Rizal –
“Ang hindi magmahal sa sariling wika, 
Ay higit pa ang amoy sa malansang isda”.*

To a child who secretly preferred reading in the foreign tongue,
These words were damning. So much so that in my mind
there was always an ongoing war while growing up 
with the king’s language and Rizal.

Looking back, mastering both languages would have been a lot easier
had somebody told me: “Go ahead, do what makes you happy,
as long as you do not forget your identity. 
Be proud of the color of your skin. 
You can be unique and world class at the same time,
there is no need to feel guilt, find your own rhyme.”

And so today, I tell the youth who have their own native tongue:
Enjoy the journey, but do not forget you are a child of your land
while you discover many things, using the language of kings. 




Dr. Jose Rizal – Philippine National Hero, who ironically have mastered different languages including Greek, Latin, Hebrew ,Sanskrit, German, French, Italian among others, aside from Spanish and the now commonly used English language

* "Anyone who does not love his own language 
is worse than the smell of a rotting fish."


Kim Patrice Nunez
26 July 2015

Copyright © Kim Patrice Nunez

Details | Free verse | |

Insight out

Inner sanctuary
envision harmony and mental clarity
focus on a journey of possibility
Meditate on transformation and 
awareness of inner state
peace and healing

Constructive thought
instruct your mind
to redirect the lost and struggling inner voice
Where you can’t see the wood for the trees 
under your nose is the path of freedom 
wholeness

Put aside perceived struggles
revitalize, relax, respond
to body, mind, heart and spirit
Intuition, introspection and spiritual renewal
bring about personal healing and
conscious awakening

Stillness of mind – concentration
Thoughts of the subconcious and subliminal
beyond all negativity 
away from all interuption
To allow time for self communication and
expression of inner self

Senses – awareness of scent, sight, sound, taste and touch
Healing hands of the medical profession or alternative therapy
ambiance, temperature, oils, music, sounds and 
sights of nature or universe
realisation comes in various form and shape 
causing us to feel life in fullest expression

Connecting – whispers of wind 
radiating everpresent warmth of sun
a blanket of love and light comforts consoles over and through the cosmos
rippling infinately through infinity outwards, onwards
connecting right back into where we are at right now 
unmoved unchanged and as we were

Wise – responsible courageous allowed to let go of need to be judgemental or 
be judged 
let go of controlling enable trust wisdom and humility
intelligence of knowing others
wisdom of knowing self
strength in mastering others
power to master oneself

Energy -breath, force, spirit, soul, God, universe – 
whatever – doesn’t matter how you refer to it on personal level 
energy, balance, light, sound, vibration, peace 
centered self – stillness – silent – eternal – 
to have enough is a richness in itself
accept appreciate and acknowledge oneself

Copyright © Anna-Marie Docherty

Details | Lyric | |

Human Being

I walk a mile to see the self in me that I believe to be, 
I knew the road I choose to lay my head to sleep is called my home,
times in need I could barely see that in myself I will set free, 
the act that held me down, something about me I could not see,
I lived a life when I decide that day I said that I don't care, 
so young, so bright, I dim my light, traumatized for me to share,
love me please regardless of what you heard and what you have seen, 
friends say that I'm only human, yes you're right, a human but who am I being?
My life will move in the direction I choose, 
this I know I have always been taught
that I choose to be a winner or lose, 
its entirely up to me its all in my thoughts.

Ken Fepulea'i

Copyright © Ken Fepulea'i

Details | Free verse | |

You're The Weak One

YOU’RE THE WEAK ONE


You’re the weak one, you’re a bully.  The weak one is definitely
not me.

The bully is always the weak one, but your weakness you can’t
seem to see.

So, I’m going to try to shed a little light on your weak and inappropriate ways.

Your weakness began on your first bullying day.

Your false sense of power is not strength at all; it is a cry for help desperately trying to break through.

I actually feel a little sorry for you.

Weak kids like you always seek to find other kids they can dominate.

Bullies do this with vicious words, inappropriate actions, and misguided hate. 

Is being a weak bully the banner you want to carry for the rest of your life?

Get rid of the bully banner forever; take up a banner that shows respect, 
understanding, and tolerance for others, and always hold that one very high.

	Al Johnson
 

Copyright © Al Johnson

Details | Senryu | |

I'm Cleaning Up My Act

<                                        amidst thy shell's core

                                          healing of ones soul begins

                                         with .........  wholesome cleansing 

                                         

                                         

                                           

                                          
 
                                

Copyright © Katherine Stella

Details | Rhyme | |

pride

there across the wind
rides my silly pride

at times a sturdy arrow
at times a butterfly

how often i chose to follow
the path of the sturdy arrow
its landing was hard to find

however, when i chose to try
the path of the butterfly
never, was i too far behind

Copyright © Gerry Mattia

Details | Free verse | |

I will not be late to work this morning

I will not be late to work today

I will get there on time
I will brush my teeth
Without singing songs
Without thinking about birthdays
About gymnasiums
About TAKS 
About sound
About war
Republicans
Democrats
Independents

I will get there on time
I will eat my oatmeal
Without thinking of 
Broken valentines
Strewn against a wooden
Fence 
Like dropped goblets
From a robbers pillowcase

I will be there before the bell rings
My papers will be checked
My hair will be combed
My mind will be alert 
Ready to begin my lesson

I will not wonder why
My oldest son doesn’t have a job
I will not pray too long
For my daughter who is taking the bar today
At 10:30 AM in New Orleans
I will not scar my knees wishing
For some alternate world
Where children are never neglected
Or hurt
Where there is no abandonment

What nonsense to try and order the world
Just get to work on time
Put your things in the car, your projector and 
The white binders that you didn’t look at
All weekend although you were supposed to check the papers and put the 
grades on the computer
I will leave now
Before it is impossible to
Be on time
I will cream my ashy ankles

I will not focus on the white
Cat on the black pillow
With the green eyes
I will not water the plant
I will not watch TV
I will not write poetry
Before work

I will not write poetry
Before work
I will get to work on time
I will be ready
I will not be daydreaming about fog
Wondering if I’ll get Alzheimer’s like my mother
Or colon cancer like my dad
I won’t be thinking about that stuff
I will be locking the front door and 
Closing the gate and clicking the clicker
And starting the car and leaving

I will not be in my living room
Wondering if there is any reason to love
Because I do not love for reason
I love because He first loved me
It is not incantations or intoxication
Or imagination it is my life and 
The structure will come with the
Clearness of Bajan water
So clear you can see the fish
Fly float across the Atlantic

It is time
This poem must end
I will not be late for work
This morning
Not for nothing
Not for nobody
Not for anything
Not for everything

This poem is over 
the work day begins


Copyright © Rhea Daniel Dear

Details | Pantoum | |

Red Wedged-Heel Shoe

On  top of the pile___shoes upon shoes
One lone wedged-heel red shoe that gives clue
That she knew what her fate would be soon
Aware her soul__spirit would take flight

One lone wedged-heel red shoe that gives clue
The owner was last one to die the death
Aware her soul__spirit would take flight
Memories filled her every thought

The owner was last one to die the death
Terror, horror with every breath
Memories filled her every thought
Of family, friends, life, love__children

Terror, horror, with every breath
Because she knew what fate would be soon
Same as family, friends, love__children
On top of the pile__shoes upon shoes

Copyright © Sara Kendrick

Details | Rhyme | |

Sexy

   Sexy is the way 

    her lips move on his ear. 

     Never touching 

      always whispering 

       things I'll never hear.

Copyright © Gerry Mattia

Details | Acrostic | |

Abundance

A is for apathy, “You all know you are!”

B is for itching, “Why can’t I have a car?”
U is for the umbilical cord. You never cut from Ma.
N is for neutral, “Why should you take a stand?”

D is for dependent, “Hey, one always needs a hand!”
A is for angry, “Well, why the hell shouldn’t I be?”
N is for nostalgia, ‘cause in the past we’re free.
C is for the ocks ;) who run the whole damn show!.
E is for euthanasia, “When your old just GO!”

And all that spells abundance, in case you could not tell?
Or went to school in Texas and never learned to spell.

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi

Details | Rhyme | |

Free?

By the way,
Have you felt the stick today?
Missed a child support payment or alimony?
How’s it feel to live in the land of the free?

By the way,
Can you afford the heat?
Does your daily menu include gene-altered meat?
How’s it feel to have no choice;
to be run by a government 
who won’t hear your voice?

By the way,
have you paid for the water you drink;
because you don’t trust, the kitchen sink’s?

How does it feel to be so free;
to raise your hand to take a pee;
to be arrested and detained
to receive no trial but a waterboards’ pain?

How’s it feel to live in the land of the free;
to have your passport chipped 
and your phone calls clipped?

Does anyone live in this mythical land?
If you do, please lend us a hand.
Tell us how to take care of our children
and the sick.
How to live a good life without carrying the stick.

Please, please, tell me how to be proud 
of the world we live in right now.

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi

Details | Diminished Hexaverse | |

Water Being Cleaned

The ram died high
On the snow covered
Mountain, when the thaw
Of spring came, it's
Decaying body

Contaminates
The melting snow
The waters flow
Brings death in grip

The farther
It traveled
The less germs

And death
Were there

Clean


(This is also a metaphor for sin.  The farther we stay away from it the cleaner we stay.  Of 
course, we can repent but the results lingers.)

Copyright © Sara Kendrick

Details | Free verse | |

Baby Girl (For Asante Indira)

Baby girl,
How do I write my love upon the moon?
How do I
Tell how a father's trust upon you swoon
Or inform
Your silence where belonging longs?
I so old
Fashion, filled with forms so clothed in wrongs
Afraid this
Telling of the heart weakens fiber of the man
And often
The pain in me is more than you can understand
Of a fear
That if I relent you may in my weakness fall
And leave me
More desolate that Christ before he drank his gall.
O this love
A wave incessant in tidal force against the rock
Makes the sands
That runs determinant in my crystal clock.

Copyright © L'nass Shango

Details | Free verse | |

Compassions Goal

It is impossible to please........................................................................EVERYONE
like a Queen bee fat and almost legless trying to hold together her world she...DOES
not see for she can not move freely and her mind does................................NOT
focus on the abundant need of each to....................................................HAVE
for the many need sustenance................................................................TO
thrive, feeling the plight of.....................................................................LIKE
beings whose each task, small or large, deserve the same respect as do.........YOU

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi

Details | Rhyme | |

Living The Dream

Down in Haiti
Far from the dream
Way on back 
From the vacation scene

Lives the people
Trapped in a life
Poverty, sadness
Toil and strife

Children weeping
From worm infested,
Swollen, malnourished
Starving little bellies

What would Golden 
Flower think of today
The country she loved
Destroyed in such a way


(Missionary from Haiti came to visit our church yesterday.  With his visit and 
talk, I see solutions to problems in an instant.  Something to treat the water 
before the people use it, reforestation, wells in places that need them, and 
proper out door facilities for areas that don't have them.  Money, work, and 
time is needed to carry these projects out .)

Copyright © Sara Kendrick

Details | Didactic | |

Lessons Learned

Do not seek or chose to find, correction in another’s mind; When at the heart of all, we know; enlightenment comes from what we sow. To criticize or correct ourselves is for the best since others seldom can surmise the simplest jest. In deference to said life so roughly hewn ‘tis the clown that earns heavenly boon. For the gift of lucidity is rare without calamity and few honorifics abound for those who claim sanity.

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi