Best Advocating Poems
Someone special died because you drink and drive
Dear drunk driver I want you to know
Forgiveness is a fire enlight save souls
Maybe you live
Maybe you are deceased
Maybe you forgive
Maybe you are hurting
Blue you blue drink
Driving reckless quicker
Lives are linked
cause you can’t handle liquor
You didn’t care
You knew you were drunk
Car a weapon killing daughter or son
What if it was your mama
Or your daddy
Broken and bleeding
Screaming and crying
Wrapped around a tree
Or on the highway
What if your wife and child
Died that day?
Someone special died because you drink and drive.
Every day and holiday a family sighs
No more birthdays or 4th of Julys
No more phone calls or smiles from bright eyes
Victims who died because you drink and drive
Those who survive have hard work to do
Physically, therapy, or creating life new
advocating for cause for spiritual mending
Creating a bridge from tragedy to winning
this song has music
~Life Support~
Welcome New Poet To Poetry Soup,
I offer you a warm smile, in hopes you come back another day.
From the moment I spot your name on the new poet list,
I roll out the welcome mat, in hopes you will stay
I am not afraid of you, I will approach you to say hello
I will Annoy you until you stop by and say "YELL-OW!"
Please have patience, when my ink has no flame
Don't be intimidated by The Poet Destroyer's name,
I'm sweet looking like a lollipop and fun like a kitten
"Warning!" Don't get too close or you'll be smitten,
You can choose to adore or instigate petitions of envy
When it comes to PD
Even then I am a friendly poet, protected by God's loving levee
It's time to introduce myself, call me Linda or PD
Unless, you're in constant warfare for the dominance of poetry
Then by all means, express yourself retard-ly
Verbalize my name, in any which way you like
Call me The Poet Destroyer, when tapping the mic
All though many here know I'm more of a Poet Supporter
A comment crusader, a poetic hoarder
I have no shame in my game,
I give, I love, I treat everyone the same
Unwind, Enjoy all the Xoolness coming to your direction
Inspiration, Contest, Friendly Poets, Poems, and Dedications
I am not a mentor, I'm not a preacher advocating the perfect poem
I am me, original as can be, in time you will seek out my troupe
Reminiscing, over the time I was your first,
Regale with loving respect, don't judge my hunger and poetic thirst
To all new poets I promise, I'll be faithful and follow you like a star
Unless, you forget to put gas while side showing in my crystalline car
Don't worry, New Poetic Poe, I got your back
Taunting you with a copy paste smack
Call it a "--Statement--" call it what you want
I call it, Love From PD, enjoying the community
With a simple hello, and peace out spree
CONGRATULATIONS, to all who made it through the years
Ain't nobody here worth more than you and your poetry
Take this time, and introduce yourself my new friend
Remember New Poet:
If it weren't for you, this place would be 2005 all over again
Always & Forever
Age Of Poet Destroyer
6-24-14
sometimes I need to be
very in your face
make myself heard
let out that roar
and drama it up a score
the need for more
at the core
more intensity
vivacity
high voltage vibrancy
more "live it to the max" volitility
I'm here
right in your face
no comfort zone space
social media mad
posting the good
berating the bad
advocating this and that
slap in the face reality queen
believing she can make a difference
change the world philosophy
makin it reality
that's me
at other times
like a vapor, I rise
no trace of me
just a peripheral entity
no image
no sound
no feet on the ground
there but not there
giving all I've got
to float free from this spot
deactivate, hide
fight to stay alive
comatose complacency
that's me
strange...
the "in your face"
and "no trace" girl
both are....me
can you see?
Now...
in all honesty
in vital veracity
tell me...
who do you want me to be?
Eileen Manassian
Proud brothers and sisters once
again having to defend The USA,
at its Southern Border. But, today,
unlike threats of the past, the invading
army are sick, hungry, destitute bands
of migrants – who have been tricked
into entering the Nation illegally. Tricked
by evil, Marxist tyrants, our Present
Administration, advocating for a far less
free Republic than that imagined by noble
and honorable predecessors. Will we let
these Texas Patriots stand alone?
Perhaps damning future American
generations, to the hellish fires of
Despotism.
Life and death on a video game
their punching buttons not responsive
to hospital gadgets and electromagnetic technologies.
Consciousness is pinned to extinctions wall
and disappearance in court
advocating for a permanent roommate.
Every stepping win shows the direction
to which this soul is destined.
Existence is in a pitiful mood
with just its left hand held.
The firmness of such hold, serving as a marker
to its needed victory or unfortunate loss.
One move and another, death leads
but the big win finally comes
and the abstract world of the spirits
hit itself and weep in anguish
as the soul marries the body
to activate a living being once again.
Does God Owe Anyone an Apology?
When misfortune and bad luck strikes
Many of us feel God is either dead or owes us an apology.
Certainly, if you find yourself at the wrong time and place.
All you can do is pray for mercy.
Perhaps he needs to do things differently before the fanatics wipe us out.
In modern life, there are many ways to learn to be good
School does this, a nice film or a good song does this too.
Don’t get me wrong, I am not advocating atheism—
Kids need God to protect them from the boogey man late at night.
However, as adults, the concept of an invisible man
You meet after you die may sound a little far-fetched.
But, if you are suffering any kind of serious illness or are at the end of your life,
You may find comfort in believing heaven.
Everyone wants to make it to heaven but no one wants to die.
touch football
the far goal is
Buddha
I am not advocating disrespect for anyone's
religion, just reporting life as I see it
Let's declare solidarity as power and ownership with,
and older client-service models
are power and ownership toward.
Herein lies this with and toward difference
birthed by here and not-yet Kingdom capitalizing norms
pervading our non-profit
and for-profit public/private
eco-political capital sectors,
suboptimizing mutually threatening losses
substituting for WinWin cooperative self-with-other equivalent ownership,
Golden Rule coop-owner rooting
in sacred mutually organic subsidiarity
of grace and wonder
and healthy curiosity,
holistic integrity.
Evolving current competitive LeftBrain dominance
of WinLose Either/Or thinking
rather than advocating revolutions of and for cooperative Both/And
Left/Right ecosystemic balance,
both notnot reserved
and proactively for regenerative integrating profits
shared through mutually subsidiary individual
and family
and tribal
and community
and state
and bioregional networks
cooperatively owned
originally intended
and also Self/Other Earth-centered governing.
Let's declare solidarity
mutually-held power and ownership
with regenerative WinWin integrity
including both past and future generations
reiterations
optimally resonating resolutions
primal peaceful revolutions.
he stood
among the swasticka's
a star
in the center of chaos
and still
he couldn't comprehend
with ticket in hand
for a train
that was heavily laden
with lost hope
he was bound and gagged
by religion
that was neither practiced
or received
yet he was convicted
by birth
advocating his death
tears would not save him
German words would convict
spoken with accents
of David
yet there would be no
slaying of Goliath
and so he went
without a word in yiddish
to ovens readily heated
and skin was but butter for
German bread
he walked among the gentile's
and was slain
for he was too gentle
like a lamb to the slaughter
they dined on mutton
of Jewish mute
evil knows no boundaries
for it exerts power and control
and those that are complacent
will pay the price with life
Star of David
shone
but was covered
by German eclipse
blocking the glow
extinguishing the flame
Born May 5, 1818, in Trier Germany
to Heinrich and Henrietta Marx,
sans the third of nine children
(and second oldest heir)
Karl Marx thinking begot incendiary sparks,
asper his two most controversial publications
titled The Communist Manifesto,
and Das Kapital
which political philosophy
incubating seeds of self destruction didst birth
doctrines of class struggle,
historical materialism, dearth
of equitable wealth, and inherent
contradictions of industrial capital
distributed unevenly
across avast swath of Earth
thus inviting his perspective
(conveniently exploited,
mined, and usurped) advocating
the working class (proletariat)
to expedite organized revolutionary action
to topple capitalism and bring about
socio-economic emancipation,
where wages of sin exchanged for labor bled
fingers to the bone life source, viz proletariat
till slaving laborer nearly became gratefully dead
despite being cased in 12 point
Times New Roman garb, who incessantly fed
insatiably maws of production,
(no way to get a supportive talking head)
particularly highlighted
within schema of Capitalism),
a predominant paradigm
stratifying society led
to internal tensions engendered
between bourgeoisie red
dilly controlling means
of production codified as said
as die a critical approach Marx coined
as historical materialism,
where figurative landmines forced one to tread
gingerly, thus above stated philosophy
would supposedly lead down the road
where self destruction wrought marriage
birthing Socialism offspring from shot gun wed
ding, thus coaxing eventual establishment
of classless communist society meant
to establish free association of producers who spent
exchanging merchandise amidst classless
campy population hood pitched a tent.
I was shopping in the local mall
When a toddler just started to bawl
He stamped his tiny feet
And demanded a treat
But his mum wouldn’t buy a football!
He continued to scream and shout
His small mouth displayed a huge pout
But much to his chagrin
His mum did not cave in
Just warned him he could get a clout!
His dad took the child by the hand
And said words he could understand
When your mummy says no
Don’t put on a floor show -
Good parenting really is grand!
(Just for the record I'm not advocating it's good parenting to smack a child - it just happened to rhyme for the poem which is fictional)
Incidentally in October 2017 Scotland was the first place in the UK to ban parents from smacking their child... I wonder how successful that will be!
12/24/17
rainy day
an old man dries the face
of Buddha
I am not advocating disrespect for anyone's
religion, just reporting life as I see it
voices skating secrets across the rim of a wine glass,
breath advocating a glance. Plucking nerves like a guitar string
wind revealing the liars tongue,
never failing to encapsulate
the quiet tuck, serenades of existence
pouring solitude down a rusty rainspout
to particular seasons that shadow
a present future;
as corrupted stain glass contributes
a haunted soldered image.
We never fully realize the petals won’t wilt,
gardens remain constant
hope becoming a postal card;
parchments sealed with the adieu
real like hairline cracked sidewalks
sowed by constant sorrow.
Distribute me from your straight jacket of resents,
sanction me to feel the softness of
the salt water breeze;
a chance meeting with eyes unable to ascend
knowing that the plural form of time is indigo
you are violet.
I am what I am* by the Lord’s gracious gesture:
Adopted child of God, imparted with divine nature
Beloved daughter of parents who raised me by loving nurture
Cared for and caring sibling around Christian family culture
Directed volunteer toward ministerial faith-venture…
Empowered prayer-warrior for triumphant temptation flight
Forgiven sinner fulfilled by Christ’s peace delight
Governed Gospel-proclaimer bearing redemption light
Health-conscious vegetarian along ideal weight plight
Illumined Bible-reader against skepticism’s blight…
Joyous sister, partner, mother striving to be a blessing and encouragement
Kind-hearted convert trusting the Holy Spirit’s enablement
Loyal lover as first loved by the Saviour with divine endearment
Mercy-granted recipient engaged in sharing, full of enjoyment
Nourished soulwinner over famishing worldly entanglement…
Optimistic life-builder prioritizing spirituality
Persevering social worker for children’s welfare-prosperity
Quickened believer of the Scriptures against self-righteous religiosity
Rescued hell-bound lawbreaker striving now to please the Almighty
Strengthened full-time church worker serving thru Jesus’ capacity…
Thankful teacher, writer, poet advocating responsible communication
Upheld victor in discipling, anchored upon virtuous instruction
Worshipful xenial congregant who praises the Creator with jubilant adoration
Young-at-heart adult defying, yet succumbing to aging manifestation
Zealous labourer in the Master’s kingdom with brethren’s inspiration.
*1Corinthians 15:10 But by the grace of God I am what I am: and his grace which was bestowed upon me was not in vain; … not I, but the grace of God which was with me.
LIST in Bio and ABC forms
May 8, 2020
3rd place, "I AM: A LIST BIO CHALLENGE" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Andrea Dietrich; judged on 5/25/2020.
Our forest habitat
gusts breezes
across our skins,
as darkness slowly turns
toward bright sky light.
My son
who cannot walk
nor speak his name
talks vociferously forth and with
and adding as this morning breeze
together part of Her embrace,
playful tickles
across his advocating happy Yanging face
teaching out and taking in, as possible
what and whom is impossible
for any of us to see,
whether blind as he
or sighted as we
might actually hope to be.
D is an avid scooting son
toward virgin forest greetings,
able to smell and feel morning seasons and rhythms
of days and night,
dark and persuasively gusty bright
flow of solar and lunar breezes
across our democratic EarthBound skins,
nurturing solidarity
older than concrete avenues toward cities
of overwhelming unforesting,
unraveling
tribes producing what once was nutrition,
good food more than fake food,
healthy love of gusty bright mornings
over toxic repressed-yin darks,
nightmares of climate acclimation
to separating multi-sensory linguistic pathologies.
D's life is liturgy of love
blemished only by occasional aversions to entrapment
and suffering alone
when we might become possible
to produce healthier webs of cooperative nurture
together,
Dad and D
as We.
Daranyani D,
celebrating sacred forest winds
as feminine matriarchal principles
gracing his brown naked skin.
Diversity of days and holonic nightdreams,
democratic nutritional pluralism,
principles of forest reweaving civilizations
older than cities
surrounded by fading cultures of wealth
through deforesting this EarthTribe Morning
which,
on its very best warm gusty day,
has become worthy
of concelebrating Daranyani D's
forest optimizing breezes,
liturgies of EarthTribe's
Secular Out and Sacred In
brightest elder
matriarchally principled
(0)Soul bilateral sacred brain-dance,
Elder RightBrain
Still-PolyCulturating Light-RainDance
Choreographies Sacred (0)Sum EcoPolitical
BiCameral Green-Dominant.
Just like his preachy, but basically happy, ElderDad
co-eco incarnating
our forest habitat
gusts breezes
across our naked wrongs and rights,
as darkness slowly turns
toward bright returning sky light.