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Best Anti Bullying Poems

Below are the all-time best Anti Bullying poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of anti bullying poems written by PoetrySoup members

Search for Anti Bullying poems, articles about Anti Bullying poems, poetry blogs, or anything else Anti Bullying poem related using the PoetrySoup search engine at the top of the page.

See Also:

Poems are below...


New Anti Bullying Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Anti Bullying poems are below this new poems list.

Anti-Bullying Remedy by Manassian, Eileen
Anti-bullying week special by Kamil, Sophiya
ANti Bullying stop the violence by long, cory

View all new Anti Bullying Poems

The Best Anti Bullying Poems

 
Details | Anti Bullying Poem | Create an image from this poem.

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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Con Descending

Rise up on thy holy apex rise
if you surmise, us peons cry 
chitter yer chatter
all your nutz are well scattered
even god couldn't drive a one iron home

A man for all seasons 
a woman for reasons?
even the blind girl
surely one can see

So piddle and paddle
shake yer poor rattle
even judges wont throw you a bone

Run if you can, call seeker your man
for the devil is asleep on the throne


Copyright © Eye Truth-Teller | Year Posted 2017

Details | Anti Bullying Poem | Create an image from this poem.

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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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 not satisfied 
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 © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2015

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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 © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2016

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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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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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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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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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We All Have Words

We all have voices
They are strong and loud
We can use them to start 
Landslides and earthquakes
We can also calm the storm
Take that roar and turn it into 
A gentle hum
We all have words
And it's time that we use them
But before we can do that
We must change the way we speak
We must change the way we look at things
Because the words we use now are not correct
The words we use now are full of hate
The words we use weren't acceptable
Years ago so why are they now?
Why is acceptable to be using slurs against me?
Why is it acceptable to call me something
That your mother would consider vulgar?
When you speak
Can you still taste the soap
That she would wash your mouth out with?
Does it burn your tongue each time 
The words escape your lips?
Or do you feel nothing at all?
Have your dirty words
Consumed you enough 
That no matter how much soap is used
They will never be clean?
Have they stained your vocal chords
So much to a point 
That you can only speak 
In profanities and racial slurs?
Because that's all I can hear
They slap me in the face
Each time you speak
I remember what you said
To that disabled black man crossing the street
I remember what you said
To the lesbian couple
When they kissed each other in front of us
I remember what you said to the single Latino woman
Caring for her 5 children
I remember what you said when I told you I wasn't straight
I remember everything you said
And I always say
We all have words
And it's time that we use them
But only if we can calm the storm
And turn the endless hate
Into unconditional love




Copyright © Brittany Larson | Year Posted 2015

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Bullying 101

Step 1: 
Inhale an envious mask upon your castrated 
skull, 
and prompt this necessary illusion to commence.
Bathe yourself in ego-filled waters till you feel superior
to the gavel, and exit without caution from this perfect 
prison called home. 
The audience of youthful flattery awaits you, and those 
who you hunt, 
Anticipate your roar, and contemplate a permanent 
departure. 

Step 2: 
Masquerade around the elementary wheels of 
transportation, and make sure your crown has no opposition.
Be seated in the rear levels of mischief, and target those
who sit angelically, in frontal silence. 
Remember to grin until your devilish smile has a 
pathological glow, 
And act without tears, your greatest show without
showing. 

Step 3: 
Be ignorant to punctual chimes that sing, and lean on 
absent temptation for comfort. 
Show patience for the perfectly weak; allow them their 
steps upon the wax floors, 
Give them their fairy tale of safety. 
For they are dreamers, and you are their scheduled 
nightmare. 

Step 4: 
Enter classrooms initially through the minds of prey. 
Let them introduce the beast without forethought, 
Observe their careful whispers among the intellectual
flock, 
And standby till their guard sleeps. 

Lastly, steal the eyes of misery from your contemporaries
as you walk in, and sit among the walls of miseducation. 
For knowledge is not the vocation you seek. 
Only the beauty of suffering can compensate your lust. 
Step 5:
Begin by insulting the eager minds that roam 
brilliantly in the front row. 
Shout high praises from hell, belittle their flawless 
answers, 
And bear no breaks of mercy until tears fall. 

Now shift your heinous gears toward the everlasting 
prom queen, your unrequited distraction. 
She does not lean towards you, therefore you must 
harm her pedestal as well. 
Do not hesitate to disarm this glow that will never 
infiltrate your surroundings. 

Step 6:
Confirm that your motions are approved, by the 
council of expulsion, 
And give them infamous leeway to imitate in your
rare absence. 

Step 7: 
Reminisce joyfully over sin that will never turn pure, 
as you return home. 
Remove the wool from your eyes, and follow sorrow 
till it wants no hint of you any longer, 
A similar thought entertained by parents you forever 
know.  

Lastly, if you urge beyond repair, and accept that the 
sheep you threaten everyday will never turn, 
Despite your purpose, 
Then feel free to act as those that previously harmed, 
And contemplate a permanent departure. 
May god bless these faithful carriers of misery. 


Copyright © Jiril Clemons | Year Posted 2014

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Puppy Love

.


          in kindergarten
          she gave me her tooth
          instead of kisses
          too many years later
          softly biting my lips



5/5/5/6/6
94 characters

.


Copyright © Ruben O. | Year Posted 2015

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To Cut the Corner of Your Coat

(Giving voice to those who suffered and believe in poetic justice)
Should I cut the corner of your coat? Too many times you tried to squeeze my throat; you got perverse pleasure to see my page blank, thought I have overdrawn the polyglot’s bank. I saw your glee, you thought I went to flee, you did not understand, my spirit was in command. Without ascendancy you appointed yourself as judge, still I chose not to bear a grudge. Like David, my sins are uncovered, like him I never devoured Nathan; he was not sent by Satan. He was sent by Him, against Whom all have sinned. Yet you aimed to shame and then denied, thought you caught me by surprise and caused my demise. You have conveniently overlooked my word, I have confessed and made my peace with the Lord. Who sent you? You are not a messenger of peace, Your truth doesn’t set free but spreads strife and disease. You are not a prophet; are you the false king’s puppet? I saw Fate throw the dice, so now you are uncovered before my eyes; but like David, I too will kill hatred with love, he was content to cut the corner of Saul’s robe. An eye for an eye? It won’t make me smile to see you die, I will not honor vengeful games with my name. Now, I release myself from all the hurt you’ve caused and claim God’s gift; He who knows me more than most, denies you satisfaction to silence my thoughts. I am forgiven. Through His grace I forgive you seventy times seven, on your downfall you won’t see me gloat; I refuse to even cut the corner of your coat. From: 1 Samuel 24; 2 Samuel 12:1-13 and Matthew 5: 21-22 Inspired by Olive Eloisa's Theme: Not for contest Poem of the Day - 04 January, 2016


Copyright © KP Nunez | Year Posted 2016

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Zolar the Inet God

(after Edgar Allan Poe's "The Angel of the Odd")

It was a tidy day and I sat, replete, under vellux blankets.
Sadly, my tea was weak, the bottle of cinnamon whiskey
tantalizingly low, and my feet swelling above my anklets.
So I was snippy one might say, zippy, flipping with zee...

from one screen to the next, oops, forgot! Poor Usain Bolt!
Yes, I took it out upon him. Dressed him first in bouncy hearts
cruel, I admit, and then purposefully fried him, let him float,
banged him, tripped him, let the sloth dine, and let out a fart.

Crude, I admit. Let's blame it on the tea, shall we? "I say not."
I sat up. Who had spoken to little old me, an old lady too weak
for any great villian with a booming voice. I blew out my snot,
found my glasses and good grief! The speaker made of teak.

Pseudo teak, my stereo a bit old. But leaning against the wall
fruity-kins wearing leotards when he should not, the belly
like a spiked watermelon. I admit I considered a sip at neck gall
but got turned off by papaya thighs, arms turned banana jelly.

Who are you, I squeaked, smushing low to hide like a flea.
"Zolar, the Inet God. Say, I wonder, are you  a high roller?"
No, no, said I. No bingo, no slots, no high stake poker, just see...
"See? I see far too well. You let my buddy Usain go polar."

Tee hee. Just, um, fun and games. How about a nice slushy?
Yes, I admit it. With such as he, I couldn't help but imagine
giving a blender whirr, a smash and splash, sort of plushy.
With glee whee, off went vellux and I set to the kitchen.

The rum was old and watery, the vodka scummy at collar
and all went crash. Imagine the horror if you will, foot rot
 in my fine spirits? My hoover sucked it without bother
and when I examined residue, found crumbs, hairs and a dot

of mushy raisins. So I googled on my phone  with askance
how purify spirits? Zolar suggested kindly, "Try a colander."
A genius of the mash, a nonpariel of the objective chance.
My mind turned to such grater things I made my first blunder.

Who'd believe a fresh market reject could move with alacrity
I swung a hammer, missed his head, slipped on the slick floor.
The recoil hit my head, and I bled red vintage, singing a ditty,
Oh me, oh my. I'm gonna cry, while Zolar went out the door.

Not leaving my just desserts to chance, I slipped and slithered
rubbed my foot rot, and hopped after him, butcher knife in hand.
A beep from my iPhone and away he dodged, while I dithered
leading me, up, up and out to where it rained to beat the band.

It hit me then, just get close enough to hug Zolar, then push
he must have read my mind because he darted and I flew
head over heels, but thankfully over a branch like a lush
who did okay on the acrobatic bars, hair tangling in dew

covered maple leaves and my dismount worthy of a ten.
I mucked toward my door,  my bare feet covered with mud
I opened the door, except it was locked, no window open.
I checked my pockets, found a lighter, snapped, a dud.

No phone, can you imagine? Even Usain Bolt wouldn't recover
such blasphemy as rain, muck, and maniac fruit without zen.
I now had an axe to grind and a green house to uncover.
My thirst now absurd, my mind stuck on might have been

I raged, thrashed through cabinets, seeking a bottle once stored
and found it. Amen. I uncapped it, took a deep swallow
Hot. Hot, hot! Immediately I upchucked, help me I implored
to the God of the Inet, Oh Zolar, call 911, don't let me wallow

It's cold, wet, dark and mucky, and here I'm all upchucky
I pounded on doors, they'd open, snap a flash then close
oh, woe, woe. I clutched my head, my throat, I'm ever so unlucky
to wish to slip into slushy and end up posted before repose.

A siren in the night grew and grew, then flashed beside me
a voice said, "Ma'am? Can you hold it right there, put your hands
overhead?" Sure, but bladder being bad I couldn't stop my wee wee
from dribbling down my leg, then my feet slipped unplanned.

That's how the news pictured me, along with neighborhood
postings, feet all asply, a phew of urine and of whiskey,
my hair filled with leaves, eyes black and blue, and would
you believe it? My hand rests on watermelon, me unable to flee.

I never go near the iNet, never search out or  bash Usain Bolt.
The night of Zolar in mind, I even gave up cinnamon whiskey.
Because a fruit in hand is better than an axe to grind or a volt
from lightning, with tush grounded and no vellux to cover me.


Copyright © Sheri Fresonke Harper | Year Posted 2014

Details | Anti Bullying Poem | Create an image from this poem.

I Have Hidden Super Powers

I don't wear a cape around
My neck, breaking the speed of sound
Or capture bad guys in a web
My powers have never fled
From my heart that's where they stay
Secretly until the day
I see injustice come along
Others are treated so wrong
My super powers become stronger
When I can't take it any longer
Hearing stories of bullying
My special skills kick right in
Set loose, no holding them back
My love alert goes on attack
Not stopping for anything
It won't ease up until I bring
All this hatred to a low
I give one huge final blow
Across the land until there is
No more hate or prejudice
Until then, I'm on alert
Making sure there is no hurt
I will be here till the end
All my powers I will send
Into the hearts of those so weak
Mild mannered, shy and meek
That get pushed around each day
I'll make sure it goes away
This promise will be kept for sure
Any kind of hatred I abhor


Copyright © robin davis | Year Posted 2014

Details | Anti Bullying Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Blacklisted

The poet Marshall Mathers
whilst "Cleaning Out My Closet"
blasted with inquiry-

"Have you ever been hated on or discriminated against?
I have...''

Interesting enough
in these crooked times
it is impossible to make a man like you,
or your art,  
especially with unbounding determination.

Nevertheless,
It sure is mighty easy to attain their hatred, 
through no fault of your own. 

When they protest or demonstrate against you...
finally you have arrived!
That's powerful!

Common sense says, 
"Never drive in the rear view mirror!" 

Though, it sure is helpful to take a quick glance back
periodically
to check out Jealousy, 
back there 
doubting and shouting and eating your dust!

Take a whiff...
Listen...
AHHHH....

The band begins to play ferociously!
Off-key.
Off-color.
Slander Slogans pasted upon your face.

Furthermore,
Suddenly, 
Systematically...
like roaches with lights bright,
they disappear into the night, 
back to the slums;
begging for crumbs.

Once you've been Blacklisted;
Swallow.
Digest the miracle.
Pure, glowing gold
the alchemy of their anger,
visibly discernable from the glossy pyrite 
appearing with fake praise.

Heed the old adage:
---------------Keep yir' friends close, and enemies closer.

Their futile harm repels from the Teflon donning your heart.

Envy
burns bold, boils, 
melts and cools, then cold,
forging the sword.

Adding to your arsenal.

Stumble not 
upon bone fragments,
brittle blacklist bandits... 
the Catacombs of those
who aimed to defame your name,
staking claim for their 
shameless sea of debris
and Rotten Forgottens 
which only bolster your begotten flame.

Remain steadfast, undaunted

                           TROUNCE THOSE TREACHEROUS TROUBLES;
________________________           TO            ________________________
                            MARCH THROUGH THE RIGOROUS RUBBLE!

*Heads High,
Let me see those eloquent eyes!~JsL    



~Inspired by written words of Marshall Mathers, Cleaning Out My Closet, 
Shady Records~


Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO | Year Posted 2014

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Crossed Me At The Borderline, Just In Time

-------------------------------------- ~*note: done in fun and aimed at no one~  



try and seed my name you'll concede to shame
no use in calling names to lose the game

yir' ill will is just plain disastrous 
asinine avatars deserve an asterisk

as for being fact-less, your slaps don't diss
every lick you spit simply tends to miss

harmless words that curse, rehearsed childishness
gets your face erased and they'll say who's next

as defilement arrives inside your text
that's when shame wheels you back, right to the nest.


~10 syllables in each of 10 rhyming lines~


Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO | Year Posted 2014