Best Are Learned Poems
L et your thoughts travel to pen
A fter all you’ve been through
Y ield to your spirit, friend.
D id you ever want to cry from the inside,
O utward appearance tranquil,
W ords spoken all for nought,
N ever knowing why?
Y ahweh may be behind that veil,
O dds are He’s waiting for you to give in,
U gly as you feel,….. ready yourself to write.
R each into your spirit; lay down the words that come.
W ords express at this time what you know not.
O ften lessons are learned that we have not sought.
R arely will your burden not be lightened,
D oing that which you were gifted to do.
S o to be at peace; .. lay down your words.
emotions they flutter,
and lessons are learned,
beware of the eyes of the beast,
charmed by the snake,
bird hesitates,
so hypnotised,
now it cant speak.
so it's now up the creek:( (cactus, snake do do)
cactus ratshoot was the bird,
after the snake had scoffed him on,
a sweet delight, and he was gone,
anon, too right momma...
TWO TO FOURTEEN any theme/form MAX 14 lines Enter Contest [Enter Contest]
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
*“There are some things you learn best in calm, and some in storm.”
In a home of tranquility, where you learn at your mother’s knee,
(if you are blessed to have a home like that of sanity,)
self-aware, loving and forgiving, you’ll likely be.
Raised in an environment mostly free of crime or war,
you will have peace; for feeling less stress, you ought to thrive
both physically and mentally, and emotionally as well.
Will you have learned gratitude though for simply being alive?
That good things are learned by example is a given,
but are you truly at your best if you haven’t faced a storm?
Do you know what it is to truly be courageous
when all the things you value away from you are torn?
Folks facing trials are those who can prove their whole worth.
Having tribulations you might learn how strong you truly are.
Appreciation for things you’ll know better when life brings gales.
Admiration I feel for those who wear a battle scar.
*There are some things you learn best in calm, and some in storm.” — Willa Cather, The Song of the Lark
F or each life lost a mother grieves
U ntil the last shot is fired she will never sleep.
T ears will fall as we count the cost.
I ll winds blow as the war goes on.
L ove must prevail for peace to win
I t must stay strong to make evil give in.
T ime ticks by with each life snuffed out.
Y et no lessons are learned as the enemies shout
O f rights and power,
F orce and might,
W illing the other to acknowledge they are right.
A lways remember that for each life lost
R emains a nation counting the cost.
Seek to master your frustrations...
The most important lessons are learned the hard way...
Don't fear the utter darkness, sooner or later everything is revealed in the light...
The evidence is all around you.
It's only as difficult as you perceive it is and it's only as complicated as you make it.
The prize is worth the fight
And the journeys reward is the experience...
Shelter yourself from animosity where by doing so you take the wind from their sails...
Give thanks.
No matter the situation give thanks.
Because everything happens for a reason.
So smile in the face of adversity because you've been preparing for this.
Put extra effort into your endeavors, destiny awaits.
Make your words carry sincerity and your actions consistency.
Never forget where you came from.
Part of understanding where you are headed is realizing where you've been.
It's important to cry as much as it is to laugh.
Step in confidence.
Words are what are learned after being born
Our language a tool is sometimes forlorn.
Real communication flows from the soul.
Deciphering it has challenges in any goal.
Since dawn of time it has changed each morn.
Take any animal sounds they are learned.
Hearing is only the beginning to be discerned.
Expecting we are sole communicators’ unearned.
Hearts beat the same in humankind and animal.
Error is ours to believe creating an anomal.
An arrogance of mankind makes it tangible.
Reason seeks out nothing, makes all reasonable.
Trace to whatever past you believe to be palpable.
Our classes have been taught to seek the truth.
From our past days and nights we were uncouth.
Imagination is not just humankind’s thoughts alone.
Make no mistake; all creatures have structure of bone.
Along with organs similar as our science has shone.
Great life, whether by science or religion has grown?
Intellect is not the only decision for any zone.
Now go and listen to all living things with a tone.
Allow not only your mind to decipher only prone.
Take into the future that all life be continually sown.
Imagination is in your soul, and can never be a clone.
Our words are a bark or growl to others as known.
Now imagine your experience, if we could only moan.
Whenever a tunnel of darkness descends
Remember... there's always a light at the end
Face all your fears, and follow your dreams
For nothing is ever as bad as it seems
Things may go wrong, but don't be afraid
Lessons are learned from mistakes that are made
Life is not painless, but never despair
Just reach deep inside...and your strength will be there..
Raina Hutchins
For Lee, my son-in-law, who was so very special to me.
Life will never be the same again...
I will miss you for always xxxx
>>>>Looking Back To Move Forward
When you are cowardly alive
After conceding an ignominious defeat
Your understanding of the craft of life mercilessly has been exposed
It is ripe time for you to learn the tricks played upon
No hell on earth to ignore the quality of the victorious
Adopt fast their art as you have to pay them with same coin
Aloofness will harm you more in the longer run.
Your judgment went awfully wrong
Though you are too stubborn to claim that you are learned
But as time trickles by and water flows away
Your pillar of arguments crumbles down like a pack of cards
Till date you have never understood
Half of it has been done by women what mankind so far has achieved
Miracles are there
As long as exist the laws of nature
But the excruciating appeal of your faith is not in them
As in the power of unparalleled spirit
And in the importance of sociopolitical dimensions of your creed.
Everything is for man and man is above all
In defense of him if your belief comes as hindrance
Then surely God faces a threat of existence.
Innocence
Written: by Tom Wright
February 2015
Innocence,
Is the bright eyed child
So recent in life,
That it hasn’t been exposed,
To hatred or discrimination;
It never naps with anger,
And is always trusting;
But the passage of season’s
Bring Conditioned changes,
These are learned things,
But a child doesn’t learn to lie,
And is taught not to;
Man, is born,
With a sinful nature,
And therefore, all have followed,
This same road map;
That culminates at the spot
Where we stand today;
It is gone forever now, a swirling mote of dust,
above the hills and fields, memorial fleck of dying love,
vanishing from tear swept sight, away from the world,
oh how can life continue now, how can it go on?
In cruel desolation, such cold, numb emptiness
where scalpel sharp pain wields a wafer thin blade
daily drawn, lacerating nervous tissue and nuances of emotion,
slow, meticulous, precise, a living thing this pain.
Silvery and honed to savour each slash and each nick
with the sick sadist glee of a diligent torturer;
tears cannot be cried anymore, dried out now, Winter cold,
desert arid and Easter Egg hollow, a screaming skull inverted.
Bleeding dry, bleeding dry, a pale anaemic husk;
eyes look but do not register the living world,
fingers touch but do not feel the pulse of regrowth,
ears listen but do not hear the words to set things right.
One of the almost dead who envies the truly dead,
the truly dead for their interment to inanimate peace,
for where will my love find the object to lavish itself upon,
who will hold me now as one who did before?
No courage at all, only the curse of the craven to endure,
less than surreal, no longer human, nothing outwardly tangible
save a mass of screaming, electrifying pain
howling down the empty corridors running beneath the flesh.
The hardest of hard lessons are learned and learned so well,
taught as only a past master of deranged ardour can teach;
the loss of sanctity when expelled from the mother womb
is the outset of the clue to life's meaning.
From this point forth, the love object is a thing to be lost,
family, friends, possessions, innocence, integrity...mind,
eventually life itself, for all is ultimately stripped away,
with each love object finite and thus both fabulous and terrifying to behold.
If loss be the meaning of life, vice versa, the meaning of life be loss,
instilling life with it's value and fragility;
your trauma spills indistinction, uncertainty - the loss of the love object,
wreaking ball on my defences - and likewise my refuge from pain...
I live in Vermont, a white man’s land!
Not like home, with white beach sand.
Although I often feel singled out,
My neighbors are always willing to lend a helping hand.
Martin L King Jr, Harriet Tubman, Rosa Parks
They are learned about in books and drawn in the arts.
History so solid, so undeniable
Walking into a room all eyes hit me like darts.
Black History focused on for a month out of the year,
February so short, gonna shed me a tear!
For we all have struggled, some fight to be equal
No so many of us live in such fear!
I ask you once, I ask you twice
Before you sit down and call me a vice,
Did you ever think that I could be her?
Hair down my back, someone’s beautiful wife
My man loved me- he fought to his death
He said “I love you” with every single breath
Now I’m alone, hurt, scared and torn
While your sons walk down my street- they’re dealing meth
Is it really so hard to see
That you are the same as me?
We all bleed red
So why not let us be?
I hurt
But I won’t be the next one to lie in the dirt
My morals, self-value and love of life keep me going
I am many things, but defiantly not inert.
So this being said
To those that say I’m better off dead
You can bow down
To kiss the feet of this Queen instead.
3-3-15
For Contest: Writings in a Black perspective
Sponsored by: Verlena S. Walker
His hair was yellow, a piece of straw
sticking out the side every which a way
standing tall and mute, not a word; just looking cute.
life's problems not being faced
left to their own, unattended, drifting
like a straw cast in the wind,
wonder why this is considered a sin?
heartaches and worries all about, you see -
but no one to solve them, but you and me.
that's all around us do we see
straw men and problems
left for you and me.
things get solved by doing and sometimes failing
not by standing tall, mute and cute
mistakes are made
lessons are learned
trial and error
sometimes we get burned,
that's how to face the world that we see;
not being a straw man, but working together...just you and me.
Hypocritical, unethical, selfish, and unlearned
Under developed use of our overstated minds
Militant masochists tend to rule this world
Antagonistic especially towards our own people
Narcissistic insight concerning the global scale
Intelligence is wasted instead of being shared
Tragedy encompasses us forever the witch hunt
Yesterday's life lessons are learned nowhere
11/12/17
Written for contest: "Humanity/Acrostic"
Won 3rd Place in Contest Results
Sorrow, suffering and karma are
How life’s lessons are learned
And through them in the end,
For the better our lives are turned.
And though during retribution,
We don’t understand the pain
Each and everyone of us
Get through it all the same.
So when your life turns upside down
And your very being is confused
Look at the laws of karma and
See how they are used.
It may not be a pretty picture
That in which you see
But, bravely face the truth
Of your self-imposed reality.
No, it’s not always easy
To keep on keeping on
But somehow, someway
Right must be made out of wrong.
And when it’s finally over and
In retrospect, you look-
You’ll be forever grateful
For the lessons you mistook.
At what point
do you bring it around,
cap the spontaneity,
quell the conversation,
put everything neatly within the margins?
About the time a shard of brilliance,
previously withheld,
pokes out,
trying to see its shadow.
A reflection of Punxsutawney Phil,
unsure of the next move,
or just in time, before the sliver,
simply a sharp piece of the puzzle,
launches itself through space and time,
tearing into those who are tender and fleshy,
not yet able to defend themselves,
defenseless against the barrage?
Today cries out,
in bouts of pre-indignation,
a security guard at a remote cave,
longing to do, to protect, to be,
yet what remains, we observe
with eyes in search of reassurance,
a wanton scavenger-hunt for the resilient.
For those who are learned, assertive, and wise,
their strength assumed, but untested,
the next generation,
pray to their gods to withstand the wind.