Best 93 Poems


Lucky Numbers 2, 10, 24, 65, 93

You don’t know this but
we’re all ISBN’s. At birth,
we’re tattooed across our asses
with barcodes, ID tags, social security numbers.
The only doctors allowed
to perform this surgical move
were trained in suits and sunglasses,
were handcuffed to computer suitcases,

held galas in mansions in the hills
of Virginia, roamed secretly through tunnels
beneath Abe Lincoln’s feet, they infiltrated
every hospital, mandated staff to hand over
the key cards. Don’t be alarmed.

Chocolate brownies can still
hold good dreams, peanuts, and marijuana.
This information should not stop you,
you wondered before about those
seven digits printed across the tops of your pay stubs,
didn’t you? And the 48906 signature on every document
from your university.

Yes, you see now. All along,
that tattoo on your soul numbers destiny:
one of the numbers stands for the birthday
of your child, one for the day your parents will find
cancer sinking its teeth in their osteoperostic bones,
and one lists the street address of the building
you will die in. The hospital’s phone number
is merely a set of numbers. Ask them

what they’ve done to you, and they’ll shrug
their white-collar shoulders.


To view this poem on my blog, visit http://wordsareaneed.blogspot.com/2014/12/lucky-numbers-2-10-24-65-93.html.
© Kelsey May  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Concrete

Premium Member - Haiku X 93 - Call Me -

New technology
Gigahertz and gigabytes
In every pocket

Safety or madness
Design for kids in four years
Undermine childhood









02.12.2016
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Haiku 5-7-5 /www.howmanysyllables.com
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Form: Haiku

Premium Member Haiku 93

Haiku 93
	
	gray day...
	even Wellbutrin
	doesn’t help
Form: Haiku


Premium Member Haiku 93

velvety blossoms
on branches of cherry tree
fairy angel wings
Form: Haiku

Ear Wax Art- the Continuing Saga of the Great Belly Button Lint Dust Fire of 93'

I've been collecting ear wax
Since the belly button lint dust fire went bad
I lost all my dignity in that fiasco
So ear wax is all that I have left

Believe you me, it's not easy
Coming up with another scheme
After burning the whole town down to the ground
To get a single soul to look or even listen to me

But that fateful day that I dug deep
And pulled a replica of the Eiffel Tower out of my ear
I knew that fame and fortune lay before me
My time had arrived, my time was here

Who should I call first over my artful discovery
The Post?  The Enquirer?  The Times?
No I would call The Museum Of Modern Art in NYC
For the Art World would soon be mine

I knew I had to ratchet it up a notch
One piece of ear wax art might be a fluke
So I got out my brush...the Q-tip
And removed a portrait of John Wayne AKA The Duke

Since I live in a hippie commune in the woods
Little furry creatures would always stop by
To gaze upon the artful process 
Squirrels can be the best of critics...no lie!

Which gave me the idea with all the left over ear wax
I sculptured a mini-amusement park with mini-arcades
And charged the woodland creatures nuts and berries
Which helped feed the hippies with whom I stay

It wasn't long after that I received the letter
Stating that art had a need for me
I've become known as The Andy Warhol of The Art World
With abstract ear wax being my specialty

Now I go to all the major "Who Does"
Where everybody knows my name
As I create masterpieces right before their eyes
Just don't hold it to close to the flame

Who would have ever thought that ear wax
Would be the perfect medium
To jet propel this Simpleton
To Art World stardom and beyond

Premium Member Copla 93 Invocation: This Bad Guy World

COPLA 93 INVOCATION : This Bad Guy World

The lone wolf shies away from the pack
The tyrannosaur scoffs at his kind :
Systems with it

Tiglons roam lone on the beaten track -
Fall prey the gnu foal lame and blind :
Systems well-knit

Stand alone and the pack will hunt you
Lose your integrity to live safe :
The human fate

The Overman’ll camp on the volcano
Far from the humdrum crowd’s stifling life :
Asylum bait

© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014
© T Wignesan  Create an image from this poem.


November, 93

Twas like every November before it, 
But this one came with an air of uncertainty,
For the drums of celebrations had halted in may.
When Owen celebrated his second birthday.

Fate was finally smiling at Evbareke
Those around her had thought, 
For indeed she, the child whose mother abandoned just nine months after her birth.

And left in the care of her sick father,
Aged grand mother,
Family members who cared less 
For her existence.

Had grown to become a beautiful girl, 
Whose nature was fair,
Like the back of a ripe alimo fruit
Which falls bountifully in the Month of March.

She, the girl whose childhood 
Was characterize by total neglect and
Destitution had out of nothing found favour, 
In the eyes of a decorated soja man.

Fast forward to 1989.
Her civil servant father died of an eerie
Circumstance; a live fish was removed 
From his stomach.

Her life regained some sanity when
The soja man married her, 
Immediately after Her father's burial. 
He had promised to stay with her forever 
And make her happy.

But nightmares also do come to pass.
Oga soja had a first wife at home,who 
discontinued child birth after two children.
Her every action brought doom
To every one that crossed her path.

Fast forward to August 93,
The pressure from oga soja's first wife 
Became unbearable, but oga soja in his kind 
Nature, comforted her.
After all, she has given him 
Three boys with another one on the way.

Death would strike again 
But this time it came in form of a mere cold.
A cold that started on a very hot afternoon 
All means and measures to quell the cold were abortive.

So death was inevitable, 
It came that morning when oga soja told her to 
Forgive him because he had worsen her plight.
"Look after our children" were his last words.

That November she was told to marry 
Oga Soja's younger brother, 
Who promised to cater for her 
And her children.
She refused and decided to go her way
And raise her children all by herself.

Interjection;
Do not take it too seriously 
Life will happen to her and her children,
Who defied all odds to live a good life.
And when she is asked what her biggest
Regret in life is?
She would say November 1993.


Godwin Henry Osaigbovo (Pa Shakespeare)

Premium Member Ruby Ridge - Flight 93

(Most of my songs start out as poetry, then a song, this one went backwards, first it was a song and now poetry. It is on Youtube, search "veebdosa " then look for RUBY RIDGE - FLIGHT 93.
     RUBY RIDGE - FLIGHT 93
Sometimes some things just happen.
Sometimes some people won't see eye to eye.
When it's all done, we wonder why.

There was a mother crying.
Up on Ruby Ridge, it was her time to die.
There was no time to wonder why.

Why can't we live together?
I don't know.
How do we blow it?
I don't know.
If I could reach your mind,
maybe we could find it,
but I don't know,
I swear I just don't know.

One bright September morning
Over Pennsylvania, were some dreams meant to fly,
No one even thought a dream could die.

And when they said let's roll, they
knew the end was coming, and some people would cry.
There was no time to wonder why.

Why can't we live together?
I don't know.
Why do we blow it?
I don't know.
If I could reach your mind,
maybe we could find it,
but I don't know,
I swear I just don't know.
© ron wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet
© Vee Bdosa  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Lyric

On 9 11 01 I Got On Flight 93

On 9/11/01 I got on Flight 93 to get home
to my dear wife , who just couldn’t wait
to see me that night. 
I heard some fighting with 4 men who
looked liked terrorists and they apparently
would not stop in till one of them yelled
if any of you make a move you would
be killed and that’s unbelievable and
I was stunned.
 I called my wife on the phone she couldn’t believe
I wasn’t coming home.
When she told me about the planes crashing in
New York I told some other guys hey we
have to make a plan and it has to work.
 U said let’s roll and get these bastards,
let’s send them to their graves where
they will have their last day.
We fought and pushed our way to the
front, but the plane was already going to 
crash and I never gave up as I couldn’t
let them S,O,B finish their task of
killing innocent people not caring who
was in there path.
 Based on the true story how some very heroic men stop a 747 from hitting the
white house God Bless brave hero's

Untitled #93 / Ann Wilson #2

Ann Wilson!
Why was she so heartless?
What made love so different
in the 70’s, 80’s, 90’s?
Sage, tell me!
Form: Ode

Michigan Man, 93, Freezes To Death

Why, the old man froze to death
fingers and toes burning,
a slow, painful death, the coroner
says; the neighbors say they tried,
the city never lies, they will shut off
service of essential services,
and so life goes.  Why, 

the old man froze to death
huddled in double layers.
He’s not alone this season,
‘tis a freezing season, three
reports this week.  I reckon
we’re not civilized enough
to have heat for everyone.

For the Brave Souls of Flight 93

In Memorium...originally written September 2001



We can only imagine your terrible fear
When you knew the end of life drew near

But you found such strength-you stood so tall
With undying courage you gave your all

For the fight of freedom in the face of death
You saved so many with your last breath

Now you travel through Heaven with light in your soul
While we will never forget "Let's Roll"
© Deb Wilson  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Couplet

On 9 11 01 I Got On Flight 93

On 9/11/01 I got on Flight 93 to get home
to my dear wife , who just couldn’t wait
to see me that night. 
I heard some fighting with 4 men who
looked liked terrorists and they apparently
would not stop in till one of them yelled
if any of you make a move you would
be killed and that’s unbelievable and
I was stunned.
 I called my wife on the phone she couldn’t believe
I wasn’t coming home.
When she told me about the planes crashing in
New York I told some other guys hey we
have to make a plan and it has to work.
 U said let’s roll and get these bastards,
let’s send them to their graves where
they will have their last day.
We fought and pushed our way to the
front, but the plane was already going to 
crash and I never gave up as I couldn’t
let them S,O,B finish their task of
killing innocent people not caring who
was in there path.
 Based on the true story how some very heroic men stop a 747 from hitting the
white house God Bless brave hero's
Form: Bio

40 of 93

timing is everything
time now to say it,
had 11, 77, and 175
had what you had,
been shown what you saw,
heard what you heard,
told what you told,
they'd have done
what you did

still, no matter
self-destiny is
inherent in us all,
most apparent in you,
oblivion faced with fear, 
but still faced...eyes open,
outshines dark hatred.

10 after still brings
deep sorrow and pride

© Goode Guy 2011-09-05

for:
Christian Adams, 37
Lorraine G. Bay, 58
Todd M. Beamer, 32
Alan Anthony Beaven, 48
Mark Bingham, 31
Deora Frances Bodley, 20
Sandy Waugh Bradshaw, 38
Marion R. Britton, 53
Thomas E. Burnett, Jr., 38
William Joseph Cashman, 60
Georgine Rose Corrigan, 55
Patricia Cushing, 69
Captain Jason M. Dahl, 43
Joseph DeLuca, 52
Patrick Joseph Driscoll, 70
Edward Porter Felt, 41
Jane C. Folger, 73
Colleen L. Fraser, 51
Andrew (Sonny) Garcia, 62
Jeremy Logan Glick, 31
Kristin Osterholm White Gould, 65
Lauren Catuzzi Grandcolas, 38
Wanda Anita Green, 49
Donald Freeman Greene, 52
Linda Gronlund, 46
Richard J. Guadagno, 38
LeRoy Homer, 36
Toshiya Kuge, 20
CeeCee Ross Lyles, 33
Hilda Marcin, 79
Waleska Martinez, 37
Nicole Carol Miller, 21
Louis J. Nacke, II, 42
Donald Arthur Peterson, 66
Jean Hoadley Peterson, 55
Mark David Rothenberg, 52
Christine Ann Snyder, 32
John Talignani, 74
Honor Elizabeth Wainio, 27
Deborah Jacobs Welsh, 49
© Goode Guy  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member No Title, Yet - 93

Two years have passed in the blink of an eye
While I’ve lived in a cloud with no emotion.
If I feel a little down and want to cry,
I just think of my new love across the ocean.

It’s not that I despise the ones from my past,
Nor that I’ve become someone I despise.
It’s just that I’m so happy to be in love at last
With someone who loves me with open eyes.
Form: Rhyme

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