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Best Lay Poems

Below are the all-time best Lay poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of lay poems written by PoetrySoup members

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New Lay Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Lay poems are below this new poems list.

As I Lay in Bed This Morning by Price, Franklin
As I lay by Etsey, Majesty
As I Lay Here Dying by Barth, Reanna
Girl, Together We Lay By The Fire by Project, The Brooklyn Six
Lay Me Down by Hauser , Mike
AS I LAY ME DOWN TO SLEEP by Edwards-Gregory, Karen
Unquotable quotes: The How of Democratic Kill - XXXIX, Part One by Wignesan, T
I Just Lay by Troutman, Tanis
In a field of lavender she lay by Seeker, The
Seductive 18 plus only by mom, ur

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The Best Lay Poems

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Words from the Oracle

We are in our fall before the season comes
Misting eyes and dropping a dandy heart
A sullen silence around the bee hive hums
History has no center left, facts fall apart

I have nothing left for honey but my words
Listening cleanse the eyes to see forever
Soon the sky flocks with all departing birds
Old bonds are unbroken, new loves sever

But to come again in heat and passion and lie
Cradled against the unknown of life's tomorrows
So summer goes, and sweet flowers will die
To bloom again as carpet for graves of sorrows.

Soon gold will fall from trees in a gray misty shroud
And all that was green will be brown and dim
And wild grass will bow where the land was ploughed
And wind will tap on its trumpet life's requiem


Copyright © L'nass Shango | Year Posted 2009

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Impart

            


A key to unlock the heart in loving thought to impart of simple words two lovebird simply find a way..... A simple wish A wish of love A simple love To wish upon To hold you near To let you in To let you hold Me once again I open up A heart of fear With opened eyes A love so dear This loving moment Held deep within Within a moment Gone again A simple wish A wish of love A simple love To wish upon I open up A heart of fear With opened eyes A love so dear


Copyright © Rick Parise | Year Posted 2014

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Empathy

When in bondage your spirit flies
Your voice a distant, bleeding dove
On the table of my heart lies
The silent shadow of drooped love


Copyright © David Smalling | Year Posted 2010

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I went out walking to the woods today

I went out walking to the woods today
I saw some canvas cities there
And many empty houses along the way
With yards overgrown or bare
And some building still in a heedless way
I met the paradox of man's dismay.

I went out walking to the woods today
To find the road not taken there
But following fire and cloud turned away
To  wipe my friend's uncomforted tear
And watch the jays and the magpies play
All around our descending disarray.

I went out walking to the woods today
To escape the cities cold despair
But from earth's predicament could not turn away
The sunlight withered gardens everywhere
And there the road not taken made of clay
God with us amidst sins decay.


Copyright © David Smalling | Year Posted 2010

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No Tomorrow's

  You know, its been in most fimiliard circles that the saying is...."tomorrow is
not promise to you". Yet 7 day's a week the census of time passes us hour by
hour, minute by (?) you know. The way of creation dictates why so many fimil-
iard people's live with so much sorrow. Do we tell them also that "No Tomorrow's,
no need to expect hope, hope in exceedily better yesterdays that promises a
chance at lease, if you get up-pitty is replace with No Tomorrow's".
You know, its been said by the glamour of religious folk's of scholar, that the mea-
sure success of rules and regulation, help determine how far some churche's bridge
out into the community. But what if the same bridge only pan out to certain people's
with Dollar for dollar faith in a God of wealth and presteige.
  The word of God tells us that the death on a tree is an atonement that reunite be-
lievers unto his Kingdom. That the light brings one from the darkside who's suffering
despair and horrow's. It will give some strength, some the knowledge that heaven is
a better place when the bridge offer's a one way road to all that know the word is my
foundation, in a world that thrive's on, "No Tomorrow's.


Copyright © John Streeter | Year Posted 2009

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pray for me

have no sypamthy 
or pity for my actions
but pray for me 
when i'm 
falling 
in ones life there 
are many 
distractions
for me to stand here 
with a open heart for you 
i guess your prayer 
reach god!

pray for me 
when i walk in 
to them streets
not knowing what is
waiting on me 
pray for me 
that i make something 
of this talent of mine.
pray for me 
and i'll pray 
for you each time


Copyright © frederick smith | Year Posted 2005

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Shadow Maiden

I see you in my heart. You pass by like a shadow.
I never fully see your face and your smile haunts me. 

I want to meet you so bad but you never stop. 
Always in motion and fleeting just enough to catch my attention 
during the moments when I am alone. 

Occasionally, you pause long enough for me to survey you
and it makes we yearn for you.

Sometimes, you let me catch you and hold you in embrace.
Our passion is so powerful it consumes us. We are perfect.

Then, when you want to go, you do, and there is nothing I can do to hold you.

I wish you would appear and meet me. I think I wouldn't feel so alone 
if you were in my life, cheering me up with just your presence. 

I would treat you with love's proper attention and a hope that would propell us to 
go even higher, into the infinite, where love is opened to it's fullest expanse. 

I desire you so much. I just wish I could catch you.
 
Who are you? Why do you haunt me?
I have sought you in every woman I've ever met. 
Yet, none has ever been you.

I want to stand close to you and feel our tenderness shared.
When we touch, the power of love flows through us.
It makes me hungry for you. 

I've come to realize who you represent. 
I just don't know where to find you.



Copyright © Black Hawk | Year Posted 2005

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CITY OF THE BEAN PEOPLE AND GIANTVILLISM: THE YELLOW ORANGE

It is crop time in Beantown.
The people of the City have the seeds to plant.
Their best harvest is the orange that is yellow.
Jake Castle is a great farmer.
His wife, Nefreda Maria, is one of the conservators.
Their yellow orange yields a greater harvest.

The children of Beantown are full of excitement.
They are the ones that florae.
This year is hyperactive because six years have passed. 
The yellow orange is now in vegetation.
Once picked, the seeds are replanted 
     making the next garnering even more fulfilling.

This year Jake has a plan.
He will visit Giant’s land to plant the yellow orange to grow afar.
He desires the experience of a different crop.
He knows the rich soil of Giantvillism will bring forth a larger fruitage.
This is an ultimate gain to a more endowed yield.
Therein, the next six years will culminate in both places.

Once the harvesting was completed in Beantown, 
     Jake journeys to Giant’s sphere of influence.
His bag of seeds was his gift to the Land of the Big People.
Giant of the Big People embrace Jake 
     while Maddy shouted “A hearty hello to Jake.”
Tomorrow they will scatter the seeds of the yellow orange.

Six years later…

Beantown sings as the yellow orange gleams 
     in the photosynthesis of the sun.
Every family harvested their fruit and 
     people from other realms travel to purchase the fruition.
Beantown economy flourishes.

In Giantvillism, Giant harvest was grandiose.
The yellow orange fruition was up to 
     twice the size of Beantown’s fruitage.
Jake and Nefreda along with their three children journeyed afar 
     bringing back seeds of Giant’s yellow orange to grow in Beantown.
The next six years will make all very proud.

But for now, Beantown wealth is the show stopper.
All over talks about how those people of little means
     henceforth a world of meaning.
______________________________________|
Penned on December 30, 2014!


Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2014

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Dare to dream

Dimmed and crestfallen
You object for the vices!
Your trimmed hopes
Your dampened spirits
See what has befallen you
You played the prey
You braced for the claws


In the grinding grip
An enduring grotesque 
A slew of bottlenecks
Verily the grain of misfortunes
You grew pale and sunken
Dejected and conquered
In a fairytale
'Who spelt your doom?


You object of mockery
Drop that flawless skin
That shadow you revered
Unlock that potent self
Enliven your reasons
For life is seasons
Seasons for reasons
Reasons to live for.


Copyright © Hassan Haji | Year Posted 2014

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The Sun

  I wait for your warm embrace

  It pierces the harden shell were I dwell

  The brilliance of your beauty draws me in

  A vision of  magnificence

  My eyes long to hold your gaze

  I wait with a heavy heart for your arrival 

  Never disappointed

  I am Captured
  My Eyes
  My Skin
  My Soul

  At Peace Once More That You Are Here~


Copyright © Ninette Carey | Year Posted 2014

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Dearest Heavenly Father Song on CD

Dearest Father in heaven above,
To whom all honor and glory belong,
Thank you very much for your love,
And holy spirit that keeps us strong,

We thank You for directing our way,
With support in doing Your will,
Please lead us to those gone astray,
While time allows us still,

We deeply appreciate everything,
You provide for us each day,
The kindness Your blessings bring,
Through all of Your wonderful ways,

We look to You to comfort and guide,
Us servants near and far,
Please keep Your hand open wide,
And protect us wherever we are,

Please comfort and strengthen those,
Be they sick or persecuted,
Guide us through such worldly throes,
Please keep us firmly suited,

As imperfect humans we do fall short,
Failing to measure up in many a way,
Please hear our repenting hearts exhort,
For Your forgiveness as we pray,

Thank you Dear God for everything,
You bless us with each day,
Especially for Your loving son, our King,
Jesus Christ, through whom, to You, we pray,
                                                                   Amen.


Copyright © Lawrence Ingle | Year Posted 2008

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Mastering My Life

The day was short and I was tall,
oops, got that backwards after my fall,
for I was mixed up and worried,  befuddled I say
on this brand new morning in the month of May.
I set out like a flash and look what I saw
not much as you may point and guffaw
as without my glasses I followed my assets
like a dog with a tail but with far less facets--
my nose may quiver but I sniff far less
the reason I’m off as you might obsess
is the cleanliness rule is so often boohoo
so boring and dreary, I’m afraid someone may sue
me for the dust in the corners or tiny feet
who confront me and scurry as fleet as may skeet.
Ah, there they are, hanging around my neck!
Glasses sure make the world look like heck.
You see it and flee it as bold as one may
for look, it’s quite beautiful and sunny this day.
So I quaff one diet coke and with nerves prepared
I step out to take battle on the weeds I shared
for weeks on end with the neighborhood slough.
One must give back with fulsome ado dues.
Don’t you agree? I always agree it saves need to flee!
Why do you nod and sneeze like a bee?
Ah, the weeds, yes, let me clamber down there
And pull out tufts and Beware! The dirt I must share!
How does one deal with a face full of dirt,
why wipe it and the sweat on my new clean shirt.
Why not? It shows you’re living to the limit of full
and one certainly can quit when the cull is at lull.
Yes, a bucket is enough to start this week
because groan, my knees feel done in and weak.
So I shall water the flower beds sometime
after I watch the clouds float and unwind...
Did I pay the bills? Oh, yes indeed, I think yes.
Help me out, dear, don’t let me guess.
Okay, okay, here’s the hoe, I go check...
Yawn, wow, I did too much, I must hit the deck
rest in my easy chair and button my games
turning my head I fall asleep without blame.
Until I wake with a sputter and the phone cranky
making noise so much it must be hanky panky
And so after I groan, moan, and drink another diet coke
I set down to work on whatever I remember of the bloke
who once taught me about the drinking arcade
with buzzers and blowers and hints of life with no aid
and tell his tale with not much ado or PU
because keyboard tapping is easier than the loo,
or the weeds or the awake or the find of glasses.
Yes, I suggest, give me honor of many masses
to help with my head now lonesome for pills--
I will be finishing up by making a new will.


Copyright © Sheri Fresonke Harper | Year Posted 2014

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I AM HARMONICA DEONTIA BALDWIN

I AM HARMONICA DEONTIA BALDWIN!
Somebody said Harmonica Baldwin was a smart child. That she would grow into her womanhood and set the world afire. Her characteristics inform her personality. Harmonica Baldwin is magnetic. She is perceptive and mindboggling. Within, Harmonica is alluring. She is inspired by her need to discover cures for a universe troubled. She knows her father’s Warlock Garden well and prepares her journey of healing. Harmonica Baldwin enthralls a Nymph who gives her vision. She shows her her future to come and tells Harmonica not to share this with anyone. Engross, Harmonica sees herself at the age of three where she is given the gift of love. In her visionary state, she leaves. Harmonica absorbs her purpose and is mesmerized by her metacognition. She knows her source will be Biology. Life Science becomes Harmonica's focus. She will be at the top of her class in all core subjects. Harmonica Baldwin success is a nuclei of medical science. She will become a top contributor. Her gift of love will be seen. As a spiritual healer, she has formed a source of strength and compassion. Within her father’s Warlock Garden, she thrives. She reads Tarot and captivates the mind. Diverse in her school of thought, Harmonica's neurological presence is cognitive. Harmonica Baldwin is oblique. She will become a wonderful human being. Might I share the vision of the Nymph in its idiosyncrasy? *** In the destiny of all is a vision foretold. In that, vision is a trial and a purpose. Only the holy knows if the crossing is safe. Light of the day is as dark as the night if that is what you have to face. *** I am what many say I should not be. That is an angel within humanity. I am the third child of the Baldwin’s six. My mother loves me senseless. My father tries not to dote as much but he knows as well that I am chosen by God. They name me Harmonica because I harmonize when there are problems. Many do not even know I have done such, being that I am only twelve years old. I know about my father’s Warlock world. It is a part of God’s Divine Order. My brother Fabien is supposed to be chosen by Lucifer, but that is only God in reverse. Do you know what I mean by that? Well, Lucifer Satan is the Angel God banish from Heaven. However, God’s Angels are infinity throughout eternity. This means God controls Satan’s equity and identity. Therefore, my brother Fabien will be as his Father is - a Master Warlock, and Lucifer will always be Satan. Now let me tell a little about myself. In destiny, I will achieve the presence of a Physician. I will find the cure for some dreaded disease and become renown. However, my prominence will be with Jehovah God Lord and I will speak to him via the mind. As I become older, I will gain distinction in the neurological world as a top doctor. So great I am that when I do marry, this man will not be able to be my soul mate. I will go to my father and mother for advice and they will tell me to talk to God Lord Jehovah. Within a dream, I will visit The Lord and ask for guidance. As I ascend, there stand my husband, mother, and father. Little did I know that this man was chosen for me when I was merely a toddler. Therefore, as The Lord spoke, I touched my father’s cloak and watched my mother smile and my husband told me he was a God child. That is just a glimpse in my destiny. In closure, I will leave you with my complete identity, which is Harmonica Deontia Baldwin.
______________________________________________________________________|
Verlena S. Walker Penned on October 19, 2014!


Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2014

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Making Love A Collaboration with Eileen Manassian

Poetry: Sentiments and words making love
Sentiments: the unspoken word lingering within
Making Love: Poetry of the mind and body

A mini collaboration with Eileen Manassian


Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2014

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Love Like A Candle

                             My love for you is like a candle 
                             The wick spills tears of joy for you 
                             Helping me through the darkness 
                             The light of your eyes shine on
                             Every time you flicker it’s like magic
                             Love and devotion carried me through 
                             You are sweet as  a red rose
                             With kisses and hugs I feel alive
                             Your heart pressing against mine
                              I am over the moon when you are with me
                              I cherish every moment we’re together ,
                              forever yours until the end of time.


Copyright © Nicolas Crowley | Year Posted 2012

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I AM INTELLIGENCE

I AM INTELLIGENCE!
In world of mannequins, I step to the cause. I see this woman fussing at her child about wanting to go to the park. How formed is this. Hello Lady and such a beautiful boy he is. He wants to play in the park. However, you do not have time for that. Let me see if I can solve your problem. I am Intelligence. Intelligence is a superhero that forms very delightful scenes. I am humorous as well. With superhuman powers, I provide a child with a dream. I give this one the dream of playing in the park. The child stops crying and obeys his mother. In another episode, I am sent, telepathically, an abusive scene. I transform arriving there instantly. Through superhuman powers, I find a nurse and instruct him via mind to be compassionate. Intelligence watched for several days. The facility conformed their healthcare tactics to better ways. A little girl has broken her leg. Her mother neglects and flagellates her more when she does not feel well. Intelligence has watched for a short while. The scene was sent via the mother verbally abusing her child. Then she would stop for quite some time. However, the child broke her leg while riding her bike. The mother sees the chance to abuse outright. Intelligence deploys to her mind and the mother begins to praise the child. Intelligence is a moralistic superhero. No age or race barriers does this superhero has. In the time of hostilities, I am there. I was given my superhuman abilities to achieve peace unconditionally. ----------------------------------------------------------------------| PENNED ON AUGUST 30, 2014!


Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2014

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Big City Life I See You

Looking out onto to the glare off the streets, it almost appears as if the asphalt were a 

sheet of glass, as the rain pours down on the street. I see them but they hardly even 

notice me. Another cold winter has come and gone for me, life in this Big City ain’t for 

the weak. They look at me as if I was some kind of freak, as I bundle trying to keep 

warm inside my filth laden sheets…I sometimes can’t remember the last hot meal I did 

happen to eat. As I dig through a dumpster in the alley behind some old fancy 

restaurant whose name I can’t even pronounce. A fifth grade education, if even that…I 

see them, but they rarely ever see me. Lost here in the Big City this ain’t no place for a 

country born boy to be…yet I see them, but they rarely see me. My bones ache and 

sometimes I can hardly see, no refuge from the hot summer’s day heat…Look at them 

all riding around in their air conditions cars with the music blasted so loud, I see them 

but they rarely see me. Don’t pay me any mind. I ain’t mad at this old world or even 

God… just upset with myself because I let the Big City life capture me and still my 

youth. Still do what you always do when it comes to someone like me? Stare off at 

someone else and just pretend as though you don’t see me standing here, just asking 

for some help. Yes, look away…because no matter what you do? I still see you.


Copyright © Jay Anderson-Taylor | Year Posted 2011

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The Lay of The Best Man - Part 1

The Lay of The Best Man - Part One

I’ve seen men ‘good’, and surely, I’ve seen men ‘bad’
So jealous and so envious, I’ve seen men ….sad
Twisted, fuming with anger, and consumed with rage
Callous and cruel to an extreme - with evil engage
Bitter and nasty, with the vilest contempt
The meanest of these, have never even wept.

I’ve seen men hopeless, forlorn and distressed
Some raging with hatred, oppress the oppressed.
I’ve seen men loathe - as well as lie under oath
Sceptic and septic, they hurt mate - and child; both.
I’ve heard men cuss and curse with outrageous repulse
And spit with venom - on a pathetic corpse.

I’ve seen men twisted with bile so vile, they even smile
Some are so bloated with spite, they gloat, with style.
Bumbling Perjiggityflumps and Groinks (Yes, Greedy pigs)
Bumptious buffoons with bellicose barbs and hurtful digs.
Insidious corruption has overrun their souls, it stinks
Incessant wickedness has nulled their hearts. It sinks.

Am I being unfair? Are not the majority of men ‘good’?
Tarnishing all men with the ‘bad brush’ because of a mood?
Am I being unjustly harsh? Men not fallible? Give credit.
And what of women…are they too not subject to demerit?
Maybe it is best to look for the best in each of mankind
Or is it you, with hope forsaken, preferring to remain blind?

I have seen a ‘Good Samaritan’ pilfer goods of an injured man; lain prostrate.
I have seen men revel in the misfortune of others - or gleefully spectate
I have seen them excited harbouring horrid Schadenfreude
I have seen Carers/Helpers abuse the invalid and defraud
I have seen the man filled with fun and laughter, but thereafter…..
I have seen him, oblivious as he treads, crush Aunty Ant! … great character!

I have seen bad men ‘change’, contrite: truly seen The Light
And there are those, that fight with might - defending one’s Right
But mostly, all I see is a decay of morals and ill-discipline
With lack of empathy, sympathy for fellow man: all is sin.
Soon I realise where we are heading, by and by - and wonder ‘why, oh why?’
But my answer lies in the Good Book; and be sure: that Book does not lie!

What hope is there for mankind when man is so unkind?
They choose not to make choices, sadly, that’s the ‘choice of the mind’.
When heart choices are reserved for one’s elect; selective
What you are left with is a compromised intellect; defective.
You stoutly defend family/community/country/humanity - from all foes
Next thing, ‘humanity’ is not your family(?!?!) - you contribute to their woes?!?!

Listen carefully to the cry of the mind that’s small  [to which he is in thrall]
Not very wise proudly trills: ‘united we stand, divided we fall’
Whether it be for family, country, or religion, (never humanity) his call,….
It is still none other than the divisive ‘them and us’ division install.
’This is mine - that is yours’ shall NEVER unite: no doubt an appall...
Put the Devil to shame; and hail: ‘all for one ….and one for all’!!!

Was it not from start of time that brother did brother kill?
Have we not seen the blood they spill to alter the  father’s Will.
Is not the greatest pain of all, deception by one’s own kin?
And could that stranger not yet met be closer than one’s own twin?
Blood is thicker than water, but water is still part of blood
That same water unites us all - to form one great big flood!

The greatest handicap to man is the capacity to think …or perhaps not.
Any man can ‘think’, but why should he bother to reason? Very bad thought.
To do unto others as will to self, a motto abandoned, the least sought.
To 'look after number one' and ‘it’s every man for himself’, so starts the rot.
‘The Selfish Gene’ ,  ‘Things Fall Apart’; simply implies ‘we’ve lost the plot’.
Sadly, very little will change. ‘Choice’ and ‘Chance’, that’s all we’ve got!!!




Copyright © Robert Amure | Year Posted 2015

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A wolf story

The journey was rough, the road was long
Her withered face radiated, turned in song
Still she fought, her faith was strong
She had no power, but she knew they were wrong

She turned her face towards the breeze
She heard them shout, she didn’t dare to breathe
Opening her mind, she sent a silent message to the sky
Please, dear god, don’t let me die

Before they reached, her creaky tree
Something made them turn and flee
Climbing out to have a peak
No hero, no human did she seek 

But on the waters edge she heard a growl
A lone wolf was on the prowl
Thank you, she whispered bowing to the ground
But the wolf if it heard, gave no sound

Off it stalked, in between the winding tree
No one she told, no one would believe
Everyday she would thank the grace,
For her saviour with a different face.


Copyright © Crystal Wilkins | Year Posted 2010

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The Lay of The Best Man - Part 4

The Lay of The Best Man - Part 4

I ask you this: Have you ever known a man to ‘buckle under stress’?
Or have you never seen a man have a ‘moment of madness’?
Have you not heard about the unfortunate Child Physician.?
Lynch-mob [illiterate] shout “Paedo!!”… at a Paediatrician?!?!
Have you never heard of the man who acted upon ‘voices’ in his head?
May be true, may be false, who knows? But he’s left another… dead!


Where are all your Psychiatrists? Surely the world should be safer!
They claim to understand man’s mind so that we do not ….suffer.
Where are all your …..Psychologists - to prevent the incessant rot?
Have they not simply compounded the demise of your lot?
Tell me: of what good is the skilled Physician that has just saved a life…
Only to drive recklessly …..and then kill another man’s wife?


Look at the ‘nice’ man right beside you, and please confirm my advice.
Is he sexist/racist/homophobic or xenophobic? Call that ‘nice’?
Any form of hatred or bigotry exposes man to vitiated practise
All forms of prejudice renders the mind to miscarriages of justice.
The Road to Perfection may be arduous and impossibly long
But the Road to Perdition is a short-cut to where the Damned belong.


I’ve seen men baulk at good advise with sheer revulsion.
The truth of my words will be made manifest by their very reaction.
They shall think me sanctimonious and await my downfall
Or wish me harm and set their traps to defeat my life-protocol.
Come ‘Dies Irae’, I shall be triumphant, ‘Deus Volente’
‘Initium Sapientiae Timor Domini’ ……that, surely, is my stay!


I’ve seen men cold and calculating they orchestrate violence
Any scapegoat will do, to this end, they manipulate evidence.
Taking innocent lives, they have bayed lustfully with the pack
For fun, sport, or revenge, unjustly thrill in beastly attack.
With merciless disregard for person or property, they blight.
Dishing out ruthlessness, whether victim be in the wrong - or right.


All is not well with the world yet most flatly refuse to see the worst in mankind.
This just proves that both they and the rabble are truly one-of-a-kind.
They live life as though everything is fair - as in a ‘quid pro quo’ bazaar
The ‘Extraterrestrial’ asks "How are things?"; they reply: comme ci comme ca…
May I please suggest a tete-a-tete and insist: ‘come, Sir, …come see’….
All is not as it seems, for man’s first love is for ‘self’,  and not for humanity! 


Why do so many still denigrate a woman and take her for granted?
Despite what you say, deep within many, I know it’s been indoctrinated.
She may seem strange to you, but maybe you’re just as strange to her!
She is your equal …and ‘respect’ is not the preserve of one gender over another.
You may think you are big and mean, but it doesn’t mean she’s weaker …. cowed.
Her spirit is much more stronger, therefore you cannot break her! Coward!


Can a woman do what she wants with her body? Of course! Why kick up a stink??
Can a girl wear heels and dress all in pink? That’s her choice. What do you think??
Should she be able to walk in safety at all hours - in skimpy dress? Ideally: Yes.
Should she be comfortable with her gender without duress? Definitely! What else?
These things that she does, are never the problem and never a crime. That’s fact.
The many problems and crimes that disrupts her life are mainly men!!! …How they act.


There can be no argument that there are a few good men - very few indeed.
Those who will not stand by and gawp as they see a dying man bleed.
Yes, it is true that the first instinct of man is to assist the victim in need.
But for some, temptation grows, along with the dark shoots of greed.
How easily a good heart can get corrupted should be a warning to heed!
Vanitas vanitatum omnia vanitas, ….. this is the mainstay of man’s seed.


Of course I expect many to read [and mock] my work. I say to them: Good luck.
Continue to pretend that this world and it’s stock is not running amok.
One man is repulsed by another because they are of a different race?! Pah!!
Do you realise you’ve just inhaled the same air that once exited his face? Hah!!!
You can call it racism, jingoism, …..or if you prefer, plain old ‘prejudice’….
Sadly it will never end (let’s not pretend), as we head for the final precipice!

(The Fg 81.5.8)



Comme ci, comme ca  & …tete-a-tete (French) -  Like this like that &  ‘….head to head’ discussion

‘Deus Volente’ (Latin) - God Willing

Dies Irae (Latin) - Day of Wrath

‘Initium Sapientiae Timor Domini (Latin) - The Fear of The Lord is the Beginning of Wisdom.

Quid pro quo (Latin)  - Something for something

Vanitas, vanitatum, omnia vanitas (Latin) - Vanity upon vanities, all is vanity!


Copyright © Robert Amure | Year Posted 2016

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The Fragile Egg...

Sitting here in this room, it seems as if it somehow shifts and moves? It makes me tremble 

and shake…as I naw on what little nails I have left, in an errant attempt to calm down my 

razor thin nerves. Reflecting back on my ride home on the bus, those other kids they never 

seem to stop chattering and laughing at me…I know that their all talking about me. I press 

my face so hard against that bus window, I know when I got off you could still see my face 

print and could count each of those ugly pimples that cover my face. Mom say it’s just an 

awkward stage in a preteens life and that it will pass…But Mom and Dad are not the ones 

who are biting their nails, an shaking like leaf at the very thought of having to go back to 

school the next day and there not the one’s with a face that look like it’s a part of a bumpy 

old rollercoaster ride. I’m no different than those other kids, I just want to be like and be the 

best me I can be in this life…instead , I sit around just like a fragile egg dangling on the edge 

of the kitchen counter top, just waiting to fall and break.  I should be out having fun but I 

just sit here in my room on the edge of my bed crying on the verge of a nervous breakdown 

with my dad’s old Saturday night special gun clenched tightly in my sweaty palm.


Copyright © Jay Anderson-Taylor | Year Posted 2010

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A CRAZY OLD MAN

He walked the world as golden.
He had scholar many schools of thought.
He himself was wise and a body of knowledge.
He sat in his exam room with his mouth compressed.
He seems to know success as success.
Just a crazy old man I am with.

The image before me states I am wrong.
I know an individual can hide his or her frustration.
However, the dilemma appears to be delirium.
He backs a wall and the given impression is that of equanimity.
Henceforth, he moves to ladder his thinking of equability.
He will fall in old age into an invalid state, but today he does well.
This is a crazy old man’s masquerade.

I see your suffering.
A façade that is veiled by your inner person is not disguised well.
You do as you should with your privacy.
There's no reason to reveal your pain for the world to see.
A crazy old man may not be.

The status of life states you win against your mental you.
You have done many things that defeat the truth.
Influence is not assumed, but you seek dominance in rule.
A senile journey that describes the image shown is a quiet vicinity you call home.
A crazy old man is therefore not known.

Light a candle today to bless your time in the world.
Your focus must be that of wisdom and soul.
You have done well in your chosen career.
You have been a part of iniquity.
Precarious times are here.
A crazy old man is a way of being.
____________________________|
PENNED ON JUNE 23, 2014!


Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2014

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He's the reason for the Season

Snow flake's here, snow flakes there and soon there's snowflake's everywhere.
    Some city may have sunshine, other places may even see rain. Whatever is the reason, 
   don't allow these astronomical happening's make you forget that, "(Jesus) He's the
   reason for the season, that Christmas is the day of sharing love and a day that our kid's
   should appreciate a day that our world was in need of a change.
    Somewhere must I say, some lil boy with no toys will not enjoy this christmas day. But
   really, its not always the presents that's stock underneath the tree, on this day as the
   snow is still falling from the skie's, let us remember sharing is just as important. For un-
    to us in Bethlehem, a King is born and love is the morale of the x-mas story. Love is
   the reason just watch your kid's have fun as they run around and play, to the one's less
   fortunate to not have what other's have or don't have, together let's us pray for happi-
    ness throughout our familie's and our leadership all over this great land in which we
    live. The greatest gift is due in all for joy of the reason. "He's the reason for the season,
   and his ressurection is a gift of his Glory".


Copyright © John Streeter | Year Posted 2009

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My ghetto (What makes it so?)

Ghettos simply defined but true…a place where society’s worse of the worst 

seem to reside, a place were the way where’d people tend to thrive…a place 

where the maddest of people come from and a place where no one cares about 

who lives or dies. A place where broken glass can be found on every street and 

is considered as the norm instead of as an eye sore or as a disgrace…a place 

with dilapidated buildings that people sometimes refer to as the slums…or 

cribs, a place where no decent person would want to live. All though this be sad 

and some of it even may be true…I contend that a place is only a ghetto when 

no blade of grass will grow, when no flower can be found to be in bloom…when 

the decent people who live there let crab grass grow and the bad people 

outweigh the goodness of the decent people who do live there and just want to 

call it home. So, you tired and sick of my ghetto and you need to get out? 

Then become a decent neighbor and we can eradicate the name ghetto and 

rename it a great place were all can live and each of us can say this place I 

shall now call it my happy home.


Copyright © Jay Anderson-Taylor | Year Posted 2010

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Promises unfulfilled

It seems that only yesterday we were planning your future and promises to be fulfilled in years to come...we started with a baby shower and gifts from everyone. We dreamed of a first birthday, a dream of your first graduation and first dance. A mother and fathers hopes of things yet to come. Now, here we are standing before God, asking him why has he taking our future of a child we had yet gotten to know, yet whom we had already loved. He, answered us with a fathers words of love..."They whom you have loved, yet have never known is never gone, a promise you long to fulfill is always yours to have...as long as you trust in me and know that I have never placed more upon you than your hearts can stand, know that I'm a God of purpose and planning...and all that which I promised will be delivered unto you if you just trust and believe in your hearts and know that my love for you, was formed before you were even placed in the womb. Nothing leaves or enters this world without my permission, sometimes with great anguish, but nothing leaves or enters without a purpose." Keep planning for the future with an unbending love!


Copyright © Jay Anderson-Taylor | Year Posted 2012