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Best All Talk And No Action Poems | Poetry

Below are the all-time best All Talk And No Action poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of all talk and no action poems written by PoetrySoup members

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The Best All Talk And No Action Poems

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Adjustments of Evil minds
Think communicate
Add friendship being relate
The bottom line being the front line must be the focus of change Destination to reach a new range establishing life matters exchange Change, Change and more Change
Then follows of achievement in total difference
In order for change to come, we must make a change
Regardless of what’s happening in the world, change must be persistent
No it won’t come in an instant
But change must come
The way we think, react and anger from within with voices having an uncertain living approach
Negative thoughts must become positive inspirations
Having respect for one another
Don’t act negative for no apparent reason to the other
Frustrations don’t change a thing
It’s about realize, but don’t cling
Change comes when efforts within movements made
But don’t sit, hide and be comfortable in the shade
Protests are good, if change is definitely going to surface
But continued talk on change will have things remain
Then all talk and no action being plain vain
Past Civil Rights Leaders had the right idea, make change, but never have fear
Afro-Americans killings need to stop creating killings among other Afro-Americans, but this goes for all races as well
The world is revolving and it is becoming a tell
The answer in people’s mind is oh well
If we all don’t change, things will continue to be the same
All entities with no change becomes lame
There is no room for excuses
There is no time to blame
Peace and tranquility needs to be the bull’s eye on direct target at aim 
A world that gathers
The multitudes that rejoices
I welcome you being a humble soul 
Let’s unite and watch in behold.

Copyright © ANTHONY BLAKE | Year Posted 2016

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Disappointed Devil Hood Das Fume And Fret

Disappointed Devil - Hood Das Fume And Fret

'Curse darned demon
     of that thar
     underworld nudged me abet
as a permanent solution
     to a temporary problem
     i.e. principally no money
     and rising debt
not for a long time didst

     I feel so distressed didst,
     where no amount of
     optimism could get
back joie de vivre ebullient elan,
     that oft times fines me jet
ting hither and yon, to and fro,
     until spent energy met
fatigue, whence sand

     man gave his pet
tickle yore sleep inducing
     sprinkling granular set
tat heave, albeit
     non off fence sieve tet
deep slumber didst
     hone like a whet
stone, less drastic alternative versus

     welcoming grim reaper, yet
eventually, aye reckon
     this human machine
     moost give up the ghost
boot not now,
     cuz this moment hike ken boast...,
an immediate diminution
     of anguish, viz unlike as told

yesterday, the monthly doled
social security automatic direct
     electronic deposit extolled
joyus relief, viz checking account
     death rattle didst sense a gold
din shimmer and em bold
qua slight monetary profusion
     lowering destitution,

     asper dearth of monies
     allowing ease to un fold,
which severe dire straits rolled
forward respite 
     with money for nothing
     oppressive full (rick kitty)
     full Nelson neck
     i.e. near choke hold

rejuvenated brittle psyche mold
during self feeling auld
also attendant temp
     purred critical pull
away woe decreased yielding
     (all "talk" and no action),
     following thru with desperate,
sans destructive (irreversible)

     actions unable to hold,
metaphorical tiger of despair
     by the figurative tail,
     where soul of mine
     almost got "sold"
for a pittance (NOT penitence)
     to the Prada devil
     (or similar facsimile thereof)

     rational self didst scold
     spewing idle "FAKE" 
     hollw we ning suicidal threats,
     not necessarily bold
cuz, this scribe did not write

     his last (nor first,
     second, third...) will
     and testament before death,
     would hove found 
    me stiff and cold.

Copyright © matthew harris | Year Posted 2018