Best Banished Poems
The toxic air begins to plow
A banished breath below his brow,
A contorted face the last thing we see
Ignorance thrust by just one knee;
My brother’s pain lies on the ground
There’s no escape for he is bound,
The hatred falls from above his head
Silent screams of the tears he shed;
Asphyxiation by the light of day
The vultures circle for their prey,
A perfect view before the kill
Now condemned against his will;
The riots roar for in his name
Innocence lost, who’s to blame,
We all stand tall upon his death
Heaven finds a banished breath.
...In Memory of George Floyd...
...My deepest condolences to the Floyd Family...
May.29.2020
A World Without You
Sponsored by: JCB Burl
Placed 3'rd...Thank You
It’s an ache in my chest,
A loss of breath,
Hot tears and no rest.
It’s a sacrifice of love
On a platter of pain.
Down low I remain.
It’s a fall from grace
To a dark empty place.
Disgraced.
It’s a loss of my sun,
A bloody moon,
Banished from paradise too soon.
It’s a why and a how,
A mystery,
To go from heaven to misery.
By: Carole O’Terry Duet
Copyright: 7/29/2018
“All Rights Reserved”
Deception In Soup Creek
There once was a town called Soup Creek amiable and quaint
Filled with all these characters, a perfect picture they'd paint
It was founded to protect the innocent
Where one was welcome to come visit
A bold western saga exquisite
A Mayor, a Sheriff, a saloon proprietor
A bar owner, also a realtor
What comes next you can’t make it up, is true
A charlatan Sheriff who already knew
The saloon owner was a phony too
This is the tale what we thought a young fem,
Claimed she was being stalked by men
who used different user names
All the while she was doing the same
Many here feel used by her deception
Manipulated for her own protection
Even I was dragged in
To keep the adventure going
I was a bit overzealous
Got a vibe she was jealous
Cause I added a twist
And then there’s this…
Whose face is it?
Someone off the internet
Identity theft is what I saw
Or is madam above the law
I uncovered a foul devious charade
Just ego and hubris on parade
Meanwhile she had
Told a few folks who also were played
Madam’s her old self, and is back
With fists ready to attack
Writing about the value of friends
Pshaw, a victim again, it never ends
I don’t have the time for this
I’ll give it to you quick, Ma`am, Miss
What were you thinking, is it mental illness?
Tell the saloon owner, who invites us in for a drink
What in heavens name would Milton think?
I know I should move on gracefully
But it just didn't settle right with me
If lies and deception are your lot
At least you can try better not to get caught
This is not a sex song,
this is just a grown up transaction,
this is simply getting it wrong-
yet we don't have a day after,
this is none other than a fight to the finish-
yet we're fending off the dark,
and hardly can speak English.
This is the known world being torn away by the nails,
people making no sense,
and the costs can kill live animals,
this is an eager loner-ship meeting the made men,
in a conquest for an ancient place no-one who is unworthy may hike,
this is a world on the brink of a new thing,
nothing we knew,
nothing we're unafraid of,
even if you don't count the lights adjustment to the dawn,
and the start of the car resting on the lawn,
this is your biggest prose-
to include the load,
and denounce all foes.
I’m a Christmas bauble
I was hanging on a tree
Then I caught ‘Tinselitis’
Now no one wants to hang around with me!
For many years I was used
As a Christmas decoration
The children would stare at me
With awe and admiration
This year I became very ill
For ‘Tinselitis’ has no cure
The owner of the Christmas tree
Has thrown me out the door
Now I’m an outcast at Christmas
Oh how I long to be draped on that tree
Now I’m going to rehabilitation
For baubles no one wants to see
Please look after your Christmas baubles
They are dejected when they are alone
‘Tinselitis’ is very contagious
Don’t let it infect your baubles at home!
Silly Christmas Cartoon Contest
Sponsored by Laura Loo
12~17~16
The Tragedy of the Banished Revolutionaries.
Epochs apart, yet,
bound by conscience,
Buddha,
Jesus,
Moses,
Muhammad,
Ram.
Enduring the whispers of time,
through creeds professed,
sermons preached,
and a million sins confessed.
Though,
the essence,
of these banished revolutionaries,
is ceremonially muted by ritual,
and gleefully crushed under,
grandiose edifices,
that serve Religion Inc.
"And the meek shall inherit the earth",
an incendiary thought,
conveniently discarded,
for the pie in the sky that must be sought.
The tragedy of the banished revolutionaries,
stings.
stabs,
whispers still,
for us to hear,
through the din of the cacophony of prayer.
Buddha,
Jesus,
Moses,
Muhammad,
Ram.
The tragedy of the banished revolutionaries,
persists,
each day that we choose,
to shun the meek,
and mouth conscience-salving prayers,
for yet more silver,
and yet more silk.
Banished we are from God
The sacerdotal lepers
Of the moon who feed upon
The universal majesty of stardust
You cannot heal our genius
It is Increate and forever
Born of flesh but released
To the infinite embodiments of fire
Our logic is demented discipline
Owned by tribal genetics passed
Briefly through your mediocrity
The inner cuirass still shines ----
But imbued luster
Does not equate possession
Forged in Chaos
As Spirit and Flesh
We fly on Celtic wings of pandemonium
Then lavish lullabies on sanity and curse reality
We, the consecrated castaways of invisibility,
Are the Insane
Spawn of creativity:
Bejewelled, imperious, adornments of the Universe
Plato said that the "poets" should be banished from the city.
When I read my stuff, I tend to think he may be right.
Broken bleeding heart
Tattered torn soul
Mind in shreds blowing in the wind
Like so many scraps of muddied linen
Blank eyes hiding an eternity of sorrow
Clenched fists with bitten nails
Restraining a life-long anguish
Milky flesh bearing the scars of self disgust
As if scratched by the venomous nails of Decrepitude
But really just the victim of a desperate mind
A defensive defenseless creature all in all
Sitting hunched in a blackened room
An opaque wall of shattered confidence
Fences her off from life and love
How she would love to tear down that wall
With her crumpled talons
To shake off her shroud of self hatred
To pretend to beauty and confidence
But there is no point in defying or denying
She can never be part of the world
For the world wants no part of her
once pride of parlor
now relegated to porch
along with old muddy boots
once proud and regal
now standing ignored and scorned
by busy household members
only tired farmer
appreciates chair's comfort
as he sits to remove boots
.
At times it seems that our
longest years here on earth
are mere milli-seconds
of yet another birth.
Are we then to wince in pain
or grin with feigned mirth
for whatever unease, shame
or pride it's all worth?
Could it be that to this planet
we've been banished
from a paradise that has
long ago vanished?
We're with nary an inkling
that our wandering
is but a round-about,
slow-motion spiralling!
.
An outcast to all
His presence is unholy
Forever banished
Submitted: 29/03/2022 copyright
The king banished a cat, such a jest,
To Madrid, in the west, on a quest.
With Spanish cheese and feline grace,
It grew plump in that very place,
Then married a funny in haste.
Kind thoughts were hard to come by
After the she-wolves began comparing stories
Feeding off each other, exaggerating her infractions
By the time Grandmother Wolf entered the den
It was too late to refocus the she-wolves
They were stirred and frenzied
Ready to banish her from the pack
World is an illusion or in it
Don't flout,
be the one
Or rebel
and banish
Be firm in
and flout
As a child
World obstinate
Till truth reavel