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Best Anti Bullying Poems | Poetry

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The Best Anti Bullying Poems

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Starry Starry Night

When Wishes were made on a shooting star The Heavens looked down and smiled With sprinkles of stardust on a whisper of moonbeams They created for us a child Soothed you were by twinkling stars In a crib that faced a velvet sky Did Queen Cassiopeia sing you a sweet lullaby As she heard your cries from ever so high In the years that followed you blossomed Joy abounded at the Wondrous You A rare jewel that we could hardly believe was ours A beacon lighting a path so True We named you Vincent - Our shooting Star We felt with the artist you identified a gifted creativity - an affinity with stars Sharing a world of art personified The ‘Via Lactea’ expanded into names defined Elliptical galaxies pondered while star gazing Sirius the Dog Star the brightest of all Followed by Canopus and Arcturus - Amazing Vega - Alpha Lyrae - the Soaring Eagle You dragged us into your nightly game Willing participants we soared with Him Our mundane lives now never the same Tents were pitched on ink black nights Constellations on high seriously contemplated Of Draconis, Capricornus, Gemini and Aries The Heavenly hand that had so skilfully created You captured the Milky Way in oils and canvas In a fashion shared with artists of old Your palette made up of hues and shades With flaming strokes of colors so bold And then it all Changed Why did it all change? You drew within Shutting us out despite our pleas Your palette changed to blacks and greys A boat rocking on emotional seas We begged and pleaded - you shut the door Leaving us baffled at what was wrong Your light grew dimmer by the day Our sorrow sang its own woeful song And then on one starry starry night The final flame - extinguished by you Leaving utter devastation - bereft in its wake Your parents’ hearts broken in two Time heals all wounds so they say Your farewell note being read and reread Through tears of sadness, the hurt replaced With acceptance and forgiveness instead. And now as we sit years later on our porch Staring at one star that sparkles so Bright The words of Don McLean’s echoes in our minds Of Vincent and his Starry Starry Night ‘For they could not love you But still your love was true And when no hope was left in sight On that Starry Starry night You took your life Like sometimes lovers do But I could have told you Vincent This world was never meant For one as beautiful as you’
Footnote: Though fictitious, this is a story that truly represents teenage Cyber bullying suicides all over the world including Asia today. The innocent victims fear blackmail and repercussions refusing to talk it over with parents or mentors. The parents are not even aware sometimes of the dark void of despair their child is facing and trying to address by themselves of which they have no experience and sometimes think the only way out is to end it all. In this cyber age, these cowardly bullies hide behind anonymity, targeting their innocent victims, spreading and sharing lies and venom. Hat’s off to my friend Kate Pennington of ‘Beyond a Joke’ Anti-Bullying Centre, in Sydney Australia, an amazing lady dedicated to helping the youth. No real names of victims have been used in this piece of poetry and any resemblance is purely coincidental. POTW 23rd April 2017


Copyright © Maria Williams | Year Posted 2017


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Hallelujah - From the Mouth of Babes - with Silent One

The Guardian
		Melodic lullabies echo	
		As heart strings strum secret chords
		As transcendental images appear
		Stargazers are lost for words
		Kaleidoscopic Illuminations
		Paint the sky in optimistic light
		Hope descends in serene silence
		Floating through shadows of the night
		Dancing spirits move to dulcet tunes
		Shadows can be seen against the moon
		Oh Redeemer do you hear their call?
		Take with you those who have gone too soon
		Hallelujah- Hallelujah 
		Hallelujah- Hallelujah
From the mouth of Babes	
		To hallowed ground we trip hand in hand
		A new chapter to embrace in its splendour
		Ring out voices on notes sweet and clear
		To the universe our souls will surrender
		Fragments of the past spun into flags of freedom
		Our Victory March erased from strife
		Away with the racing winds ever so bold
		Singing Hallelujah to hail a new Life
		The lighter the air the higher we climb
		No more the fetid chitter chatter
		To the fading strains of a repetitive tune
		Not broken -We rise - We matter
		Hallelujah-Hallelujah
		Hallelujah-Hallelujah
The Guardian
		Cyber conducts no hateful words
		Whisper soft winds only of love
		Ring euphonious echoes of Rapturous joy
		While Heaven beckons from above
		Finally free from those who judge,
		Eyes glow as laughter begins to vibrate
		Running together through fields of freedom
		Babes hum rhapsodies that liberate.
From the mouth of Babes
		Jubilous our shouts as onward we go
		Skipping, laughing as each other we chase
		Heaven embraces as we run to her arms
		Soothed we feel in her cocooned embrace
		Dissipate grey clouds from this Promised Land
		Our Hallelujahs peal out sweet and light
		Celestial Symphonies reach a crescendo
		As the stars twinkle lustrous tonight
		Hallelujah-Hallelujah-Hallelujah-Hallelujah

Acknowledgement:
My deepest appreciation to Silent One for his contributions and collaborating with me to bring this message of Hope to parents and loved ones who have suffered the extreme sadness through loss of their innocent children and the dark despair that follows. 

Tragic as their loss is, this poem is to offer solace and perhaps help them understand their child has not totally gone. In ‘Hallelujah - From the Mouth of Babes’, this is what I envision it to be beyond the void of criticism and bullying, where Ethereal beings welcome them back to another innocent realm where they readily resume childlike exuberance. Perhaps, they will return in another time away from their dark experience.’

For my friend Kate Pennington an amazing lady dedicated to helping the youth in ‘Beyond a Joke’ Anti-Bullying Center, Australia, for whom I wrote ‘Starry Starry Night’ some time ago.

Copyright © Maria Williams/Silent one | Posted July 2017

POTW 9th July 2017



Copyright © Maria Williams | Year Posted 2017


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The Grake - For Dr Seuss Contest



On a warm summer’s day, in the month of July, 
in a town that’s as small as a grasshopper’s thigh,   
walked a girl with a flower, her eyes looking down,
when she bumped into somebody wearing a frown. 

Now this Someone was someone she’d met once before, 
and the words that he’d said, she had tried to ignore; 
so she turned on her heel and she headed away
but the Someone called after her, shouting out “HEY!”

He said, “Hey you, Missy, you know who I am?
I’m the Someone who will and the Someone who can! 
I’m disliked in this town, but I know what I’ll do -  
since they seem to hate me, then I’ll make them hate you!”

Now, the girl with the flower was starting to shake, 
'cause she knew from before that this guy was a Grake!
And all Grakes are unstable, they’re mean and they lie, 
and they like to cause trouble, and make girlies cry. 

So the next day, she’s walking, her eyes are cast down, 
when whom should appear but the Grake with the frown!
“See, I told you I’d be here, to maim and to crush!”
Then he shouted out words that would make a hog blush! 

Well, the girl with the flower just stood there, confused, 
'cause she didn't deserve to be hurt and abused,
just an unlucky victim of graking, it seemed,
from a Someone who’s vengeful, and grumpy, and mean. 

So she just stood there silently, knowing she should,
'cause defending herself wouldn’t do any good,
and a crowd began forming, just gathering ‘round, 
just to watch the poor girl, and the Grake with the frown.  

And the Grake carried on for what seemed like an hour, 
(for when Grakes have an audience, this gives them power).
He ranted and threatened, and made quite a shrill, 
'cause he’s Someone who can and he’s Someone who will. 

Now, the crowds that all came (and they stopped and they stared) 
Well, they tried to speak up but they felt a bit scared 
so they just stood there, watching, and shaking their heads
and they thought, “glad it’s HER there, and not me instead!” 

Well, the next day it happened again just the same; 
that Someone, that Grake, played his same awful game-
He attacked the poor girl and he caused such a scene, 
and the crowd gathered round, just to watch him be mean. 

And the girl with the flower just took it all in, 
with a tear on her cheek and a trembling chin, 
and she felt her whole world start to crash to the ground,
when suddenly, she heard such a beautiful sound: 

“Stop it, you meanie! You’re nothing but bad!”
(‘twas the voice of a young girl named LuLu McMad.
“You’re nothing much more than a big awful Grake!
So stop it right now, You! Go jump in a lake!” 

Now all eyes were on LuLu, but she held her ground; 
she walked up to the girl and they both turned around
and they stood there with both of their backs to the Grake. 
Such a simple, yet wonderful statement to make. 

Then two people joined them, they stood with them, proud. 
Then two more, then three, then the whole bloomin’ crowd, 
until every last one had their back to the Grake,
and he finally realized, he’d made a mistake! 

See, when someone is being harassed or put down,  
it’s not nice to just stand there and not make a sound. 
So don’t be afraid to stand up for what’s right!
And make all the Grakes of the world lose the fight. 

!!!!


If you're being bullied, don't engage - just walk away... and tell an adult.  
If you see someone being bullied, speak up!  It can be scary to stand up to a bully, because we’re afraid we might become the next victim.  But sometimes all it takes is one person to break the power that a bully thinks he or she has; it also helps others to be bold enough to speak up too.  Be the brave one ... and do the right thing. 

Dedicated to the sweet and fearless Laura Loo. 



Copyright © Becca Teagan | Year Posted 2016


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Pirate Bay

```Pirate Bay the Haiku``` 

pirates fierce and mean 
drowning fish, sea to sea 
parrots on their butt 


```Polly Wants A Cracker``` 

bloodthirst & brutal 
Quartermaster Gone Wild 
dirty wings on deck 


```Sea World Adventure``` 
ship crew goes on strike 
sailing the Caribbean 
wooden leg splashing 


~*~


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015


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Beatitude Number Three

“Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.”  Matthew 5:5

Jesus said, “Blessed are the meek.”
It’s better - turn the other cheek
than let yourself lose self-control.
Vengeance will rob you of your soul.

A humble person is not weak.
Jesus said, “Blessed are the meek.”
When we use self-discipline,
we show God’s power from within!

God implied to stand for others -
not ourselves, but for our brothers.
Jesus said, “Blessed are the meek.”
Be thoughtful and with kindness speak!

The world is filled too much with pride.
Submit to God; be on His side!
If peace on earth is what you seek,
Jesus said, “Blessed are the meek.”







Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016


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Hopeful

Time to go home there’s that cursed bell Excitement for most - for him an impending hell A torturous journey - that takes him down life’s dark path His old friend ‘Panic’ enters causes a disturbing wrath ‘Humming the blues - got to choose - life or pain - pay the dues Got to cruise - feel the screws - no one cares if I win or lose The bell has rung - I walk among - a beast that preys - on the young With a tangled tongue - a sad song sung - the noose has strung’ Before the hyper ventilating starts - he must leave Can’t show them his cowardice - he does believe His projected fear - needs to be kept well hidden He’s part of the pack - so he knows it’s forbidden ‘The lone wolf cries - no more alibis - got to face the lies Hide the guise - cut the ties - frowning fear will hypnotise Swallow the pain - drain the brain - I sustain the strain My words detain - a recluse constrain - in a demons domain’ He hangs with the cool guys - they chose with care His muscles and strength - but he’s starting to despair This game they play - does not appeal like it did Preying on the weak and frail - his emotions he hid ‘Pressure from peers - hiding the tears - trying to switch gears Pride appears - with fermenting fears - yielding my youthful years I’m part of a clan - almost a man - fighting in streets without a plan No more a fan - go back to where I began - Hi my name is Stan’ To gain recognition - he accepted their invite Felt flattered at first- when they praised his fight Deception but a foolish game that he played well Stand up to them he must - to escape this Hell ‘Fists of fury - I’m now judge and jury - no more in a hurry It’s my new story, no more to worry, get rid of the bully No more in shame, myself to blame, time to put out the flame Not playing this game, so I can reclaim my original domain’ He’s hardly recognisable now - this boy called Stan He’s a boy with a purpose - and a very real plan The future for him - to bring bullies to their knees To clear his conscience and his sad past to release
Acknowledgement: My heartfelt thanks to Winged Warrior for collaborating with me on this important poem which highlights bullying and cyber bullying - major risk factors for teen suicide. Both the bullies and their victims are at risk according to a report from the American Academy of Pediatrics.' Music video by Bars and Melody performing Hopeful. (C) 2014 Simco Limited - Published on Jul 7, 2014


Copyright © Maria Williams | Year Posted 2017


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CHRISTMAS EVE

CHRISTMAS EVE

He lay abed
That most tranquil of nights
Aghast at moon and stars
Dad had painted for his delight

In one charmed corner
A spider was swinging
From his thready design
Outside   strolling carolers singing

Then he rubbed his eyes
In wonder and awe
Blinked the pair twice
To clear what he saw

For a mist had developed
About his dark room
And from it bright light
From out of the gloom

Winged angels from glory
Appeared neath a star
And came flock-tending shepherds
From countries afar

3 kings richly dressed
Rode up on their camels
To a manger scene
With various animals

And the star
Shown down on a bed of hay
Where Mary and her new born
Babe did lay

The lad sat up in bed
Struck warm to the core
With a wondrous blessing
He’d not sensed before

He dropped to his knees
Thanking heaven above –
Toys    Santa forgot -
Prayed world peace    divine love 

Dave Austin


Copyright © daver austin | Year Posted 2016


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A Stereotype of Me

You thought you had me figured out 
Before you knew my name 
Cause you're you and you're unsatisfied 
That I am not the same 

You'll never change the way I love
And you can fight for you're dominion 
But I'm worth a million times the weight 
Of a dogmatist's opinion 

I know that all that you can see 
Is a stereotype of me 
All that you thought I'd ever be 
Is a stereotype of me

Did you ever think that you could see me 
Past the prejudice you hold 
I'm not the picture you created
I'm not the things that you were told 

You're voice is long since dead to me 
I won't even be provoked 
When it hurt you to see me smile   
The things you said went up in smoke 

I know that all that you can see 
Is a stereotype of me 
All that you thought I'd ever be 
Is a stereotype of me

By: Kyle Ezra Kriticos


Copyright © Kyle kriticos | Year Posted 2012


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To Forgive Or Not To Forgive

To forgive or not to forgive, that is the question.
When you are offended, whether real or imagined
by a loved one, a friend, or by someone esteemed,
do you confront the other, or resolve to be patient?

If by some stroke of luck, the offender apologized
but turns around, talking glib gobbledygook,
do you keep silent and still, looking cool as ice,
or do you tell it to his face, that he’s more than a crook?

At such time as this, or any time for that matter,
it is best to forgive whether he asks for it or not.
Do not poison your heart with cyanide blather;
bitterness can bother like a bat’s up your butt!

Forgiveness frees the offended from the devil’s deceit;
and makes you smile at the debtor, as his debt, you forfeit.



*First line draws on Hamlet's soliloquy, Act III, Scene 1; W. Shakespeare

A modern sonnet.  
06 October 2015
Poem of the Week - October 11 to 17, 2015


Copyright © KP Nunez | Year Posted 2015


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bite me contest


I write-
mellifluous    sweet murmuring poems-
gossamer whispering words

a labyrinth     twisting     and turning

serendipity writes
and woebegone sadramblingswithtears
and all I want to do is share
my feelings

sweet murmuring poems-gossamer

but here come the don'tdoitgang 
a labyrinth    twisting    and turning
with their opinions stabbing
their rigmarole
wanting to make my safe harbour       a hoosegow

oh the words and wordsdribbling they let fly
to our souls and    
my mellifluous
sweet
          murmuring
                           poems whispering

the discontentannoyingwordgang
a labyrinth
twisting
and turning
come with their constanttellingus   what to do
           smellfungas comments

and I
am guilty   of everything        it all
I enter my poems
written from the depths of my soul
in whatyoucallmeaningless         contests
andIwinsometimes
so bite me

I leave comments lovelyandawesome
with words like beautiful       and wonderful
so back off          leavemealone    bite me

I like to post   
        pictures with poems
                everheardoffreeimages
  

I dwell behind a mighty high wall        where

I write-
mellifluous    sweet murmuring poems-
gossamer whispering words

a labyrinth   twisting     and turning

serendipity writes
and woebegone sadramblingswithtears
and all I want to do is share
my feelings


________________________
May 31, 2015


Free Verse


For the contest, Bite Me, sponsor, John Lawless

First Place


Copyright © Dear Heart a.k.a. Broken Wings | Year Posted 2015


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Yet not broken by the blues

....in retrospect
There were mirrors  there
Behind it, where all the Jews would hide
How can someone blame the black despair?
All You were, was a mirror over there
Flooding naked imagery
Flowing naked mercury
Proof there were no fa-ked lies
Unless words were pressed against the frame
Somehow you couldnt recognise...
 your name...
Half blinded..
Besides, you would deny it anyway

One day while searching for those wandering Jews
Purple flowers in my garden winked at me
" we are they, if so you choose"
The mirror held was upside down
(It never mattered anyway)
So I kept on walking on and on 
Until this very day

Ive heard it said just the other day
They used  it to flash the sun
Hoping it would shine away
As some were hiding in its shade
A million miles away
Behind that fragile pane of glass
The looking glass kept looking past
And  keeps looking for today

Looking at the torn disguise
And the lying enemy eyes
Though their lips were moist with movement
As yet the sound remained unheard
The spoken word was truth
One day it all may come to you
Whispered by a little bird

Ive held so high your high regard
And so your high esteem
Your badge of broken Jew
And friends by lives devided seen
I tried imagining I was you
Walking, standing in your wretched shoes
To us were done similar things
They also covered up the truth
In fact its happening here and now
How much cover do they need?

In honour tried to imitate , sometimes even emulate
Your cheeky contraband
Conducting your own orchestra
While playing your own band

This mirror holding up I see
If I was ever to wear those clothes
Emblazoned by a David star
Embattled with a Jewish scar
I wish to have your nose
The link between us circumcised
A covenant yet not broken
A people not yet broken by the blues
My love was found
Intact profound
In around 
the nation of the Jew







Copyright © Jannie Breedt | Year Posted 2017


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My Cry

Mongrels gyrating on the edge of town
This it now- its going down
The chant electric, the doomsday count
It matters not that no one speaks a word
We knew it was coming, but you havent heard
Just know how I loved you , go fly little bird

A mass of hungry hatred flash of glimmering blades
Blood of the martyrs, murder and Hades

Dance of the hyena, foul flinging dung
Clinging our candles only looking up
Feeble little fingers summoning the Light
A promise in our prayers armless in a fight

This is my cry, tell it to the world
From the podiums and parliaments
Dont believe a word


Copyright © Jannie Breedt | Year Posted 2018


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Being Bullied

Sometimes we all say things we don’t mean Private thoughts to be kept inside that should never be seen Then others join to be part of the scene Using nasty words that are designed to demean Scared to speak out for fear of ridicule How can other people be so cruel They join in because they think its fun Not knowing the harm they do to anyone Social media can be fun But to those being bullied the damage is done ‘Do it, do it, just go away’ These are the words the bullies may say Until one day the victim begins to crack Those poisoned words can’t be taken back Evntually they can take no more And are found lifeless on the bedroom floor Then those who mock and those who scorn Turn up at the funeral of those who they now mourn So think before another word you say Because the bullied may not be able to face another day Edited for Premier Contest #7 Sponsored by Skat A 2/2/14 Inspired by the death Caitlin Alker (aged 18) who was bullied on social media and tragically took her own life.


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2014


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A Climbing Jasmine

   
Every now and then I come to you ... A climbing jasmine through the window of your heart a blushful smile beneath your sheets a fragrant scent in waking thoughts an empty porch of swinging dreams. Every now and then I come to you ... A drop of sunshine on winter lips a tender touch upon bare shoulders a yearning moment in an ardent kiss Every now and then I come to you ... A hush -hushed whisper on a restless eve a melting snowfkake upon your lash a fallen petal tickling your cheek Every now and then I come to you... a lingered breath behind your ear a gentle breeze of visions gone that once blew softly within your hair


Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2015


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twisted


oh, let me tell you a twisted tale . . . 

of robin hood and a merry band of followers
but my story does not take place in folklore but in reality
todays story is of an archer, a person skilled with swords and words
skilled in disguise, taking many false faces
and like robin hood of ancient tales, draped in green but this green is jealousy
like the saying goes, birds of a feather flock together
blanketed in secrecy, having no moral compass to guide the evil
oh the hate is a cancer on my poems and beautiful words
my poetry a garden ravaged by this outlaw with a sharp arrow
devious, crafty, sly, calculating, deceitful, fake, scheming, shifty
we know each false disguise you hide behind
every fraudulent name and game
oh, back to the story . . 
lets raise the curtain to this ancient tale
this robin hood and a merry band of followers
pretend to be good and kind but shoot arrows
trying to murder my words 
from dark hidden places, mingling joyfully
shifty and crooked, shady but quite artful in ways of destruction
a shining star shaped shield of silliness
the way is dangerous in this spider web of lies
bloods seeps from my broken heart like red tears
leaf-strewn gales utter low wails like violins on my murdered poems
robin hood and the merry band of followers
spit them out like stones
and when I read their words, the words squirm like snakes
robin hood of ancient lore stole from the rich to give to the poor
this robin hood steals our poetic muse 
not quite the hero of old
but be assured your swords and sharp arrows are nothing to me
because my poems will sail like swans on quiet waters long after you 
are burning down below for your deceitful ways

______________________________
January 21, 2016


Free Verse

For the contest, Twisted Robin Hood
Sponsor, C.T.

Third Place


Copyright © Dear Heart a.k.a. Broken Wings | Year Posted 2016


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Fake News - Real Storm



Wicked news flash - torrential storm - Purple streaks of confusion striking. Violent grey clouds spinning its evil. Hatred scattered in shreds of hail. Waves pounding against our aching skulls. Who can live dangerously and ride their storm. To roll with the thunder and never see blue sky. These puddles of tears splashing out of fear. All that made a clear day is spiralling out of control. How? can we keep calm. Wake from this never ending storm. Brace yourself this may be a false wea th er re po r t


Copyright © Carol B. | Year Posted 2017


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Poetrysoup's Jan

Poetrysoup's Jan is quite a lass
Whose poetry is always first class
She writes ditties with ease
About mountains and fleas
Nothing phases her pens brilliance


Copyright © Seren Roberts | Year Posted 2015


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Friendship

                                   Friendship
Up the road, from where we lived, two children came to stay
My parents knew their grandma well, they talked 'most every day
A happy boy, a little odd, but always was so kind
I never was ashamed to say, he was a friend of mine
His sister was my brother's age, the boy younger than me
Products of a broken home, back then a rarity
His drool was always running down, he couldn't make it stop
The other kids poked fun at him, they called him Slobber Slop
I never saw him fight no one, I never saw him cry
His sister did
My brother did
And sadly so did I
Two years went by, their dad came back, time for them to fly
His eyes teared at my house  that day, as he hugged us all goodbye
I lived my life, I took a wife, we bought a brand new home
Out of the blue, one day a knock, my how he had grown
Six foot three, two twenty five, a mountain of a man
His drool had stopped
His tears had not
He reached and took my hand
He'd never forgot the kindness shown
Though we were miles apart
The love we shared as boyhood friends
Still lived within our hearts.


  Posted on another website under my pen name "poemdog" Daniel Turner


Copyright © Daniel Turner | Year Posted 2016


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Number 2

Impressive
Vice presidential

Walking on lily pads
Sinking within illusions

Snow drops bloom
Wisdom is waking

Darkness fades
Light pervades

We all seek to be one
Destiny sometimes makes us number two

Quite the topic to contemplate
As I wander off to the loo


Notes
As they say a pence for your thoughts
Amazing how see end up right where they belong!


Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2018


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TAKE A DIVE

 I take a dive from a precipice.
To escape my life as it is.
Deep water, deep gulp of air
on resurfacing, new life to share.
Thrilled now that I dare.

26/03/2016


Copyright © JEAN MURRAY | Year Posted 2016


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Seed of destruction

Father of all bombs when dropped 
five times greater than the mother 
Where a fallen angel's dance begins 
fornicating with matter darkening subjects 
through and through dimensions opening a porthole 
Acting a tough guy with your orange face 
shows little wit as one peace maker 
gives a bloody nose to politics to say the least 
To this sinful act of heresy that's displayed under lies 
in provoking war with the show of strength and power
Blind becomes your weakness 
Takes more than courage to grow a backbone 
to be humble aggression is by deeds done 
under one sign of weakness shows where the insecurity dwells 

co written by Liam and Bobby McDaid
our joint opinion on a certain matter our world has become filled with evil slave masters rising to power under mass human sacrifice 










Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2017


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Someone To Open Your Eyes - for Arthur

                                         Maybe not once in a lifetime,
                                         but certainly not often
                                         Someone enters your life
                                         Or maybe enters your life is
                                         not the right expression,
                                         waltzes with you, opens your eyes,
                                         confronts you, questions and
                                         challenges you, inspires you,
                                         accepts you fully and completely,
                                         loves you.

                                                  And all the while the wind blows
                                 over this world,
     erases love, children,                         warps war everywhere
                           forgets the helpless,
                                                    dwarfs the powerless.
             It's too easy to hide,             turn your head away,
                        bury yourself
                                   in enjoyable pastimes

But tomorrow it is you, your house is gone You are exiled, your children are hungry or killed... Then what do you do? ?
Maybe not once in a lifetime, but certainly not often Someone enters your life Someone who with gentle force opens your eyes, With beautiful lines, books and music. And perhaps that is painful But remember this: it is because he has a beautiful heart, he wants the world to be a better place. *** April 23, 2017, Copyright © Darren White


Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2017


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Born To Dance

I danced a dance, not danced before,
the masses beamed in admiration.
Flames of passion slid along the dance floor,
as my body floated like a possessed butterfly.

But the gingerbread people, old, fat and fickle,
pointed fingers asking for me to dance no more!
Their envious eyes burned with jealousy,
as they were incapable of coping with my fire.
Afraid I would pour hot water on them,
they began to shun me against the masses.
The ignorant followed suit, but the dancers knew better.

Hypocritical gingerbread people then began to dance,
their moves had no co-ordination, no rhythm,
it was sadly a pathetic display of imbecilic prancing!
The masses laughed and mocked, poor hypocrites,
crumbling gingerbread', crumbled into pieces,
their taste so sour, crowds puked with antipathy!

Hypocrites still try to dance today,
guess practice makes perfect - right?
I continue to dance my dance,
in a rainbow of styles, bringing delight.

When you are born to dance,
the heart will make those feet move!!


Copyright © Yazmin Malik | Year Posted 2018


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SMILE AT A MUSLIM

These are just a few words about reality,
as Muslims struggle each day with individuality.

What is a Muslim and from whence does he come?
Like you and me, he is born into the world. because of two someone's.

Many of us grew up knowing prejudice in life,
I was gangly, naive, ever given to strife.

Raised as a Christian I never knew what it meant,
As my Muslim friend, how people could vent. 

My younger years were spent playing baseball you see,
They were a team of Puerto Ricans, not one Muslim to be.

My Polish heritage was always the butt of a joke,
It was infinitely small, compared to a Muslim's yoke.

My parent's generation was prejudiced in mind,
To Blacks, and Jews, Hindus, Muslims, Hispanics and people of all kind.
 
I, being naive, never even recognized the strife,
to which these peoples had been subjected to in life.

From experience I learned to treat each person individually,
slowly finding out that that was how they treated me.

Oh, I can say I've met both good and bad,
and the underlying theme is all so sad.

For it seems that we put labels to people like cans of beans,
stick them on a shelf, never tasting their means.

But once you open that can and taste the fare,
you may very well find yourself going back there.

We have our share of detractors in this world of our choice,
but Muslims are not the ones against whom we should give voice.

They are as decent, hard working, and loving as you or me.
They only want what is best for their family.

I pray to my Christian God for Muslims though they know it not,
because they are people that He has not forgot.

Words between man and God are private you see,
that is what connects man to his Deity.

But in every society there is always some remark made aloud,
about how this group or that group has no right to be allowed.

What, I wonder, gives them the right to speak that thought?
Unless it was the freedoms for which this country fought.

And I am sure that the Muslims fought with us too,
so they could have an American dream or two.

So, I think I'll stay in my own naive little way,
and keep those prejudices well at bay.

I won't care whether the next person is Red or Yellow, Black or White,
I won't care if he's Hindu or Christian, Jewish or Zen on sight.

Yes, I'll like the next Muslim I see,
I'm going to smile at them, and I bet they smile back at me!



















Copyright © Dan Cwiak | Year Posted 2017


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I am Free

I am FREE, not a prisoner inside judgemental eyes, staring at me. This cloth I wear, protects my modesty. Let me be, do not swear. My faith is my power. I am God's diamond. I embrace his love, in his blessings I will shower. We are all FREE, to be what we want. Breathe love, live and let live.
We all should be free to wear and do as we please. I receive a lot of abuse when I wear the hijab, but I also used to receive abuse when I did not. Women are still subjected to judgement, regardless of their dress. You live your life and I will live mine. Respect is important if we are to live in harmony.


Copyright © Yazmin Malik | Year Posted 2018