Basest Poems | Examples

Premium Member Overview'

There are terms humanity uses, phrases words appear."
To communicate emotions, in aim of clarity, or  to help
Verbally in communicating our anxiety, or sense of honour
Even anger, love or fear.' Some terms are formed generically.' Yet others are forged and planned.' To strike
At the spirit, heart and souls of 'right thinking women and
Man' the word ( elites ) is being used to describe indeed
The dregs..' its as dis-informative in the context and concept
Indeed its correction ' must get now on its legs' to 
Highlight those of repulsive ways..Who glorify abuse who
Plan nightmares today.' Who facilitate urusry murder and
Greed, who co-opt and co-erce for the basest of needs who
To be validated are willing to do the vilest' the dirtiest things.)
Scum could do.' I find no word low enough.! No term that
Will match.' To the acts of these lunatics and the sick dreams they hatch.' (They call wicked for good) remember
My friend; (2020?) and just extrapolate' then and only things will
Get on the mend!
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member What Love Can Accomplish

     Fear suppresses man’s basest instincts
                                     ~ Think of what Love can accomplish
Form: Monoku


Your life

I am terrified and this is love
Resignation; this is love
Yours is fiercer than mine, less green
Pale, flowing as a riverbed and more of it
Yours is funny in the basest way
My body curls around the edges as you talk
Away from your mouth
Backed my nose into a wall
Crushing myself to let you love me
And feel no shame in it
Is that a service to the both of us
Will our children not be grateful 
That I slowly grow away
The more my fingers bite cuts into my palm
I soothe you with my lips 
And whilst air blows through
Your clouds of smoke
Me and my riverbed behind the house
Hidden by the trees you paid for
Sink deeper than we’re ever out to do
Is it you that I cannot let die
Or your child-self in the cellar
Locked away with the dust and me

Premium Member Regrets

Good neighbors, sweet friends, Can you forgive me?

In long, still and creeping hours of study,
I can be stern and inaccessible.

My studies tax me to basest function,
resting, weight-like, on my wretched shoulders.
I, too-weary, ebb and at times, tend to
spare few feelings and gall, as if licensed.

Sometimes I go, unwillingly to class,
a melancholy lass. Please, if we talk,
speak gently. I labor under command,
and you may not be answered with reason.

Hereby hangs the tale, ladies just and fair.
Sleep, that dark medicine, has restored me,
my sanity and my better judgment.
Patiently receive my apology
and recall our many fun adventures.
Form: Sonnet

Love Is

Love is sacrificial, 
It gives all without holding back,
It stands to defend,
Putting itself on the line.

Love is a traveller,
It goes on miles to seek the desired,
It journeys with the beloved,
Distance is not a barrier.

Love bears every circumstance,
Thorns and thistles fraught,
Briers and nettles abound,
It stays close through thick and thin.

Love is a comforter,
It heals deep cuts and wounds,
It’s a solace for the bereaved,
It’s a prop for the troubled.

Love is an upholder,
It lifts from the basest level,
It carries on eagle's wings,
It channels positive energies.

Love is a boundless stream,
 Unpolluted and undefiled,
Sufficient for all who want to fetch,
Available in a serene flow.





August 20, 2022.


Premium Member Butchered In Bucha

They were butchered in Bucha
Victims of unprovoked aggression 
Wrapped in body bags of wickedness 
Like chicken preserved in  the cold room

What a world of brutality 
What an act of bestiality 
What a display of man’s inhumanity 
It is  man’s basest depravity

Let the world rise against this insanity 
And bring the blood thirsty scoundrels 
To the path of accountability
 
The world is watching 
The God of the defenseless is taking stock
To mete out punishment 
To perpetrators of crimes of war

Bootless

Ten years spun into ballooning wear
Keep slipping through tighter fingers, 
Fresh year's tries in futility repair
Adamant dents of wasting days.   

Naive New Year's Eves pop in and go
In swift succession of dying dreams, 
Most astute labors bootless bow;
Giving up more rewarding seems.

No tiny stone now unturned remains, 
Yet progress-freezing agues fetid ail;
 Stinging more than adder's fang ever sunk
Into most luck-lacking lamb's sleekest tail. 

Expressionless Heaven looks on still,  
As basest ills and brutish hell as one
Choke to death firmest hope's last ray; 
As faith fruitless toils beneath the sun.

Premium Member The Proof's In the Pudding of the Last Two Lines

Trump's another Hitler
            Mike Pence, a racist
          America's a slave plantation
            Accusations, the basest

          Shootings and murders are rising
            So let's defund the police
          Since jails breed hardened criminals
            Let's call for instant release

          Big corporations are all evil
            Their wealth, confiscate
          'Redistribute it fairly' --
            Will Congress take the bait?

          False analogies make us wince
            Illogical demands do too
          Woke-sters run the government
            And they're coming after you
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Nobody Knew Better Than Him

Nobody knew better than him the value
 Of great art --
The need to preserve the memory of 
  Great artists;
Do not even the basest of us feel 
 Overwhelming emotion, hushed awe?
Great art should seem to the eye all
  Things divine rather than human;
But still, of any person...it should fall 
 to him
To obliterate the most magnificent 
   Art had then yet to offer.


A crime committed in full view 
 Of the old city's appalled populace;
He undertook it with selfsame blase' 
  Nonchalance 
Such as dictators sometimes so indulge in 
 When immersed in their own idle genocides.
The mind that contrived such eloquent, 
  Articulated words
Hell-bent on a dreadful, utterly 
 Inconceivable destruction!
And following on from this terrible 
  Silence of a long, drawn-out aftermath?
  

The choirs of gathering voices offering up 
 Glorianas and praises-in-excelsis 
  For that which unceasingly labours to exalt
In the banality of the prosaic and mundane.

Basest Traitorous Titan

I fought one piggish Titan and I won
As if that devious Leech existed not; 
Sealing the very firy nose of his gun
With ball-like rags to sap every shot.

A long-lionized mogul of giant name
Slew my low fists by a magic stroke;
Vilest Judas glossing in pesty fame,
I his two-timing fang spookily broke.

I know not if such a scheming villain
Fickle arms dim for want of glut gain,
Ever shall by Time's rare marvel floor,
And ink selfsame serendipities more.

May the Highest Star your ochre clip,
And pelt plagues and fates your ship;
Until Hades her filthiest minion finds 
Sulfurous frying betwixt fallen minds. 

May your fiendish bow of foxy veneer
Snap mid-hunt as looms hugest deer,
And life's fave tooth turn fatal sore;
Your daintiest morsel tartest grow!
Form: Ballad

Premium Member We Are In Love

'O, reason not the need! Our basest beggars
Are in the the poorest thing superfluous.
Allow not nature more than Nature needs,
Man's life is cheap as beast's!'
                                  ~ King Lear, Act 2, Scene 4


The truth is simple
We are in love
What need we
   creamsicle sunrises
   or pink turtledoves

Our hearts beat as one
As each day is run
Wherefore wish for
   magenta sunsets
   or gossamer nets

Love's in our thoughts
   ~ Our needs are naught
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The a Team

Absolve us all of anguish
 When appetency goes awry 
The allure of the atrocious 
Can take precedence over the auspicious.
Nought can assuage the anxiety  of  abomination 
Flowing from such appetites
Ancillary to our basest desires.
Saying amen leaves us 
Aghast at our arrogance
Adding to our aggravation
Acquittal comes from abstinence 
And not from avarice.

Premium Member The Love Birds - In Trump's Own Words

Chuck and Nancy quite the couple
They work in tandem and speak as one,
Like two fly’s buzzing in unison
Into my space have they now come.

A New York hack and a California dreamer,
Their single purpose to stop me in my tracks,
Just when the nation needs my talent most,
All I hear from them are quacks.

There’s a national emergency
With heathens at our gates,
Rapists, robbers and molesters,
The basest form of life’s primates.

But my wall will stop them,
To protect us all,
For them to try and block it
Takes truly quite some gall.

The fight’s not over,
I’ll win this yet,
Upon the outcome
You can now bet.

Our darling lovebirds
Need watch the sky,
As this great eagle
Comes swooping by!
Form: Quatrain

Across Each Threshold

So frequently we sat inside 
those holy dwelling places,
All Saints for all our sins, 
knowing that true grace is
here in the pulpit, there in the pew. 

So shamelessly we sat inside
those holy dwelling places,
Salvation found at fingertips
touching through forbidden spaces,
clinging, cold in the shadows outside.

So carelessly we sat inside 
those holy dwelling places.
Do you recall the Chapel, 
side by side with angel's faces, 
where you first dared to touch my hand?

Across each threshold, love, My love, 
we carried burning traces
of that blackest, basest love,
which no rosary erases.
Form: Elegy

The Son of the Morning

The lord of the earth, the ruler of the world
You were once adored by Heaven and all
Most gracious Lucifer, the pride of the Almighty
Now lower than the basest of trash without pity
I wonder why you did it. I wish I could talk to you
I wish I could hear from your point of view
The version no one sees or hears.
I wish I could tell your story to who cares,
The hypocritical world, which has become a vestibule,
Will mock and say I ask the impossible
Curiosity drives me like a herd of cattle.
And I dance around like a snake’s rattle
Knowing as the Devil you were once an angel
Makes me know trust is overrated like a diamond bell
I do not judge you. That isn’t my job
The truth will be unwrapped someday like a cob
I do appreciate that you dared to be different
Though it made your membership card to be rent
Judgment for us is around the corner like homecoming
I extol not Satan, but the Son of the Morning
Form: Ballad

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