Best Argue Poems
Who Can Argue Miracles Exist?
No man, be he grandiloquent or coarse;
be he a learned novel or tattered page;
be he devout in faith or drenched in doubt;
be he a man replete with shame of sin:
No man (unless an empty man who flaps like cynic’s skin)
who has watched the early sun come out
or heard the song of sparrows spared the cage:
No man in love with his daughters: No man in love with his universe.
4/30/2019
Submitted for: Let's Have an Argument
Sponsored by Kevin Shaw
My three-year-old put his hand on his chin
like he was mulling over something troubling
I said, "Son, look at this place; what a mess!"
“But, Papa,” he moaned, “I pway wifh these!”
His room was cluttered from wall to wall--
books and crayons, even an old football,
an old sippy cup, its contents long dried up,
cars, trucks strewn about from a huge pileup,
game pieces and his Christmas roller skates,
and things I’d long forgotten he even owned.
“Straighten it up, now!” I commanded.
He began to pout. “It’s myyyy wooom, Papa.”
Stifling a tear of my own, I nodded, agreeing,
“But YOUR room is in MY house,” I explained.
When I stepped out and closed the door,
I heard stuff being tossed hither and yon,
So, I stood there for a good long while, and,
this is what I heard: “Otay, I queen up my woom,
but next year for Quissmas....” then, loudly,
“I WANT A HOUSE OF MY OWN, OTAY!”
Loud enough for him to hear, I replied,
“SO, WHEN NEXT CHRISTMAS COMES, SON,
I’LL SEE WHAT I CAN DO!”
Submitted to "2022 Marathon Mile No. 12" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Mark Toney
August 12, 2022
FIRST PLACE WINNER
Submitted to "'Funny Memories'" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Natasha L Scragg
January 16, 2022
Written 3/24/2021 (edited slightly 3/27/2021)
Submitted to: "Look At This Place!" Contest
Sponsored by Matt Caliri
BRONZE WINNER
"Anything Children" Contest - All Poetry
September 3, 2021
She was smart, beautiful and a perfect host
Yet these god given attributes don't explain how she became adored
By most,
With no hate mail in the post.
No, we have to look elsewhere for the reason,
That no matter what the season,
She could appeal to our reason.
Was it the way she talked,
Maybe it was the way she walked,
Or the way she looked at you when she smiled.
No, that was not the reason she was such a hit,
Because like us all she could still throw a fit
And upset a little bit
Could it have been how she treated everyone the same,
Or that she did not use voice or words to shame,
No, these are not reason enough to explain her fame.
To be fair, the reason only becomes clear,
When you have had a hug from her
One that sets your emotions astir
And gives your heart cause to stutter.
Even while knowing anything more is reserved for another.
Many is the time I have seen a hug go to the undeserving,
With genuine feeling,
When the rest of us would have resorted to behaviour less
Appealing.
To think that most of us have yet to grasp the fact,
That a simple hug freely given can change the way others act
And give us all a reason,
To look forward to another season.
Why Argue
by Bob Moore
Women have to have the last word, I guess that they all do
it’s a cross that all men bear, each day, to just get through
It’s in a woman’s nature, to argue to the end
even if she knows she’s wrong, her answer, she’ll defend
She’ll never let an argument, die by natural causes
she tries to keep it going, without any pauses
and somehow she’ll remind you, of everything you’ve said
from the day that you first met, it’s all filed in her head
She’ll lead you on into a trap, and then she’ll snap it shut
“but I remember when you said”, a tightness in the gut
you know she has the where and when, right there on her tongue
and too late, once again, you know, that you have it wrong
I thought I’d found the answer, to getting the last word
by simply saying ”yes dear”, should have known that was absurd
she just looked me in the eye, and unsmilingly she said
you’ll never have the last word, so get that through your head
Of course I agree with free speech
And the right of people to have their say,
But why can’t people be more reasonable,
And see it my way?
People accuse me of being argumentative
And of enjoying a good old verbal fight,
But I never argue with anyone,
I just explain to them why I’m right!
I justify my debating standpoint,
As if from the lyrics of some corny song:
I could agree with you …
But then we’d both be wrong!
Nature often violates its own laws.
Miracles can happen every day.
Nature sailing wildly without helmsman
Would soon find itself in a defensive way.
I look around at wonders of the world
And know they were conceived by a great mind
I choose to call that great mind, Lord,
And every day His miracles, you'll find..
stand firm and be cured
walk proudly in the yander
aentince aworlal
I don’t argue with my wife in my own defence,
I'm not used to verbal squabbles like a drunk.
I just proudly sitting on the wooden high fence,
Poking finger at her, sticking out my tongue!
You say miracles are impossible,
and belief in them, toss-ible.
But, if nothing can explode, spectacularly--
resulting in everything that be,
then impossibilities are possible, dear friend,
and miracles can happen. The End.
4/24/2019
Let's Have an Argument Poetry Contest
Kevin Shaw, Sponsor
To argue with oneself is to argue with shadows
never get into an argument with a child.
never ever ever ever ever ever ever ever
because they always win.
they have nothing to lose,
and you do.
you lose your dignity,
your composure,
your everything
a child never backs down,
they do not know how,
and once they are on the ledge,
they will jump
so never do it.
You will always
lose
Instead, make it clear that they are the
child and you are the adult, earn their
respect, and try to keep it until they
are twelve or thirteen,
then all bets are off.
I fell in love with you from the start:
your charm cast a spell on my heart.
And come what may, I'd walk a mile
to hear you laugh or see your smile.
Love lets two hearts share one soul,
and leaves both feeling whole.
I love you so much
that I quiver at your touch.
You're the one to whom songbirds sing:
my hope, my everything.
You cry when I hurt,
and laugh when I flirt.
There's nothing I'd rather do
than share my dreams with you.
My Angel, my love, my best friend,
I don't want this feeling ever to end.
We play games but keep no scores,
I let you win mine, and you let me win yours.
There is no you or I, only us,
and we don't argue; we discuss.
Part donkey and part mustang,
you are the yin to my yang.
Together – he and I – him and me
We grow things in abundance
Green beans, tomatoes, squash
Okra, calves, chicks and pigs
Guineas and turkeys, some kittens
A puppy who is mostly grown
But never too old to play
Together – we – us – our
Hearts thrive on a world
Of abundance, plenty, wealth
In rich, black earth that gets
Nutrients from a downpour
Pounding the ground and bouncing
Drops off the rocky path
Together – he and I – him and me
We listen to friends who bicker
Consuming time with quarrels
Never thinking about how this dispute
Can grow, like our cucumbers
Vining their way from a short word
One weed, to something you can’t pull up
A vine that leaves you feeling
Lost, lonely, silent
Amid the beautiful blooms
That proceed the vegetable
And the tired ache that throbs
Inside a heart who is breaking
From the sorrow of squabbling
Turmoil I find, where time is made to pause
And answers are sought, to be of one mind
This need for questions and their ending cause
The truth is far from emotions I find
On whose stage is the argument now played?
Created from fear,knowledge without thought
A struggle of will as moments replayed
On a battleground where questioned hearts fought
And when time did pause,did anyone win?
With arrows shot that pierced the living heart
To wound without care, when reasons begin
Ending in sadness, with its bitter part
Does the time lost create a lasting foe?
A heart now wounded, where the scars will grow
Angry dishes threw skies to floor
Shatter and crack as times before
Caught in the screamin and slamming of door
Cross in the yelling so many ignore
So hard to catch the tears that pour
Pockets still rich but love is poor
Be in the mood you hate so much
Fragile heart but hard to touch