Best Banters Poems
Where are you God?
Where are you?
I see you.
I see you
in the clouds as you influence them to swell,
and nudge each other in the ocean of blue sky;
like galleon ships
carrying cargo of tears.
I see you,
in the cool breeze.
The breeze embraces
and leaves a scent around my soul.
I see you.
I see you in the trees,
as your good nature banters each leaf;
they sway and brighten their colors
with your touching influence.
I see you,
in the birds singing in your presence
glorifying your lovingkindness.
I see you,
in my neighbors
those that have become friends
and those that wave from afar.
In awe, who touch my heart.
I see you.
7/29/2021
They come to me with their tall tales.
I pretend to listen to their fables
Appropriately sad, I say
It's well my sister.
Everything will be fine
I say it like I truly mean it.
The truth is,
I have my own problems to deal with.
People throw banters and enquire about each other
They act like they mean well for you.
Can I get a little change from you.
I haven't paid my school fees.
My rent is still outstanding
They turn their backs
And say
I have my own problems to deal with.
We love to talk about ourselves,
Who will listen
Who wants to listen to your problems
Half of the time your talking, their mind is elsewhere
Halfheartedly paying attention to your rants
At the back of their minds, they scoff
And say,
I have my own problems to deal with.
Thank you for listening you say gratefully
My dear, your welcome.
Anything for you, they lie
They roll their eyes behind you
Who wants to carry another person's burden
Who wants to listen to your secrets?
Who wants to keep your secrets by the way?
I'll pass they say,
I have my own problems to deal with.
Ol’ brazen Brenda, battlin’ biography,
Banters bewildered brave boatmen at sea,
Brushstrokes besieging her beleaguered brain,
Broadsided by fiction now baking insane;
Balanced between both broken and brilliant,
Buried by sorrow, bereft not resilient,
A ballyhooed author, back in the day,
‘Fore Brian betrothed her then drowned near the bay;
Basking bereavement, believing though more,
Books barely bound newly found in the store,
‘Betaken, Broad Beauty’, Brenda’s new write,
Beveled bare bitterness abruptly bright;
Barreled, brought breathless by Bernie, beloved,
A character boating where dead Brian shoved,
As buckets with bottoms knowing no end,
Begging attention did Brenda’s mind bend;
Blended for sanity, befuddled realities
Born when begins a life without boundaries,
Betterment bellows because Brenda’s words,
Boxed-up betrayal beneath binding boards.
9/18/2016
If they have to point out it is banter
cus you didn’t realise it as banter
As they left no clue it was banter
The simple fact is it’s not banter
Banter’s quick wit the sort with charm
not blunt brain dead comments which harm
banters apparent with its own alarm
you know to reply with words not arms
Some will insult you then say what it is
banter they say but the humour's a miss
the standard they bant to tells you just this
have they a brain or a head full of piss
One reason banter is something some hate
Many don’t get it run their lip like an ape
after an insult “it’s just banter mate”
pointing it out then banter it ain’t
Acting a prat is a different thing too
don’t justify actions stupid you do
a prat you are and stupid are you
It’s not banter not close I tell you true
Banter only works against a near IQ
you can’t banter with someone much dumber than you
Banter is something the dumb do different
They are not canny or clever they’re just a blunt
Silent in its violence
the sun lays ancient fire-fingers
on the heat-scoured concrete of the promenade:
boxy seafront chalets tilting and creaking at angles,
scorched, salt-stiffened gardens,
sand dunes, a screaming blue sea.
It is so difficult to accept a loss, a deprivation.
Innocence flaps its winding sheet behind me,
its mummy cloth of myth.
As from an isolated moon I see
the first cold breaker rush to engulf me -
an underwater undulance,
undercurrents of menace, of malice.
The sand-strewn strand stretches into infinity,
shimmering with the visions, the voices, the echoes,
the faceless departments of government and society.
I watch the insouciant people around me,
they possess a flatness, like blank paper.
They hump and lug plastic picnic paraphernalia,
ridiculously, all beach grime and blistered backs,
reduced to a red cindery glow.
Ice creams, scooped from the freezers
in trinkety seashore shops,
are clutched in sunburnt hands.
They are spreading striped sunbathing mats,
snide and smiling slyly.
Is it a mirage, a delusion,
dredged from the desert-dry air?
The air snags in my throat: the flat summer stench
of warm wood, sun lotion, billowing cotton -
blank but expansive. The creaking, the flapping.
A strange wind howls and banters in my ear
and the train shrieks through its station,
the station of my brain -
a riddled red abyss, poker-hot.
The sun is sinking -
a disc of fire, a blood clot.
Water floods the ridgy shallows,
eddying into treacherous pits.
The black gun muzzle of my mouth
blasts the oxygen from the air.
My nerves a hive of wires suffering
the scarlet atrocities.
Pokers put out my eyes.
Squeezed by the forceps of agony
I see nothing, there is nothing
but a mirage of wavering dunes closing in
and the sea splintering; a multitude of glass glittering.
Pistols shoot
and rifles unload
thunderous banters
initiate the race
she dives
into the Mekong River
stealth head start
she leads amongst the pack
of four boys and three girls
paddles faster than catfish
other swimmers dive
chasing for the finish line
the Thailand border
no one trains for this race
many do not know
how to swim
instincts ignite energy
in their arms and legs
signals their brain to
pick up the skill
on the spot
faces
splash into
murky depths
greeting a timezone
between breath
and drowning
some legs fail to flap
some racers sink
and one boy gives up
swims back to Laos
the rest continue
down to Paiyanag's home
death cries with people
underwater
either bullets pierce their
flesh or the
breathing
seizes
water filling lungs
100 meters
200 meters
400 meters
her Olympic debut
two hours long
she peeks ahead
sand and shore
on the horizon
her feet do not give up
her hands
cup away whispers
to submerge beneath the Mekong
she ignores temptation
to call it quits
the finish line waits at
Nong Khai refugee camp
no one cares
where they place
first or second
or last as long
as their knees can
sink into dry earth
rather than their corpses
be fish food
she crawls
out the Mekong River
looks back
at her homeland torched
ammo shells whizzing
no audience present
no cheers
no celebration
only the moon
and the stars
watching her
speed
tracking her velocity
until the finish line
her medal for winning
Prison
then,
a new Life
in America
Blisters from shoes, hampered his speed
Banters from foes, sauntered to bleed
Ran barefooted, marathon booted
Ethiopia on his feet, milestone in feat.
She whimpers and whirs
She banters and she b****es
Tired of my abuse
She’s exacting her revenge
This may be my last message…
Look! She just censored my second line!
This is total b*****s, PC!! What the h...
In sang-froid, sass cords:
Sangoma dashes siren,
Thunder crashes trunk;
Sarky banters with lippy.
Spim for Santa maidenhead.
Sewing machine, long idle, gathered dust
Polished now in the hallway, my fond antique
Recalling Grandaunt’s delicate craftwork--
Each pattern of fabric threaded with zest,
As her hands would bounce around pinpoint needles,
Weaving an array of doilies rugs garments
Intently absorbed in a foot pedal’s rhythm
That her hums trailed beyond Nam’s bombings :
The war years seemed like only yesterday,
Calming her through spindles of moon’s quick cycle .
Along each evening’s gloss, we rollicked laughed
Exchanging banters like friends… till she crossed over :
Tonight, I gently pat her own quilt laying on my bedside,
Lining our decades of sweet remembrances…
For a moment, my eyes gazed at stars’ fading wicker,
The candle sputtered, spent, and all was dark.
Viv Wigley’s Contest: One nine and sixteen
Written 5/1/2018
Light of day
brings
a visitor.
Magnificent,
grey-haired
bastard
from
nowhere
but here.
Banters at me,
"There is a
plan for you."
With hands spread
illustrates,
"From birth
to death..."
Pauses
and waits
for me.
Then in revelation,
"and in between..."
Comes the promise,
"is life."
Suryaputra – poem 17-2-2016
This nation needs always issue and forgetting
Empty belly keeps tissue paper
Sanity goes void and in vain osteracized to become beggar
Nobody comes then in whole life to touch your heart.
But listen with pathos your melancholy melody.
Who are poors by torn wallets and no blood in vein
To rebel and dares not to die they talks banters for revolution
This mentally castrated progeny of high breed lives faceless
In darkness everytime waiting in hope
Suryaputra would born one day this assumption of gavatar
Running for belly with speed of dhum
All true path of searching self existence blocked
And wrong illusions grimacing for happiness
His thirsty throat screams inside for love
And chases it for failure that way never reaches to immortality
Infinit of pointalism ink drops
And thousand faces whirls before in moment that never catchable
Or hunt to victimize
In dream in seclusion he swaying without angel
Or wander in alley of bitches for cheap ****** then how
Could he die like martyer in this nation?
Like common man with various names labelized by others
Lives in safe sophisticated life
Forgetting his own identity crisis for god’s sake
He quotes -
Don’t pedagogue us
We will ready to wait till doomsday to change
all this with snail pace. Thanks for your honest
honest feedback for deserted poet of dying thirst.
For this has men ceased not to tell
Why plead heaven to stop earth's hell
Is it to end their daily struggle
And make their world a paradise resemble
Or forsake their responsibility
With a higher sense of vanity
Are men tired to suck the earth
Bringing upon untimely death
Men's heart shall forever fickle
Attending to a more profiting tickle
Each to another a hating Judas
Awaiting another man's downfall alas
They wear mantles of endless deception
Like the deadly act of a snake's conception
What started at breakfast they finished at supper
Oblivious to the rumbles of tomorrow's hunger
More of sinners and less repenters
They define friendship with tongues of banters
What better use is language to men
But to profess friendship forever not
dear
Every man a stranger in a crowd of strangers
Trading dignitaries for a better chance of survival
For this shall men lack words to tell
Why plead heaven to stop Earth's hell
How dark was it?
How indellibly dark?
A fateful Friday of fate
We shared banters in bits
I asked you over and over
for the weekend but you declined
bacause you would rather share the
moment with your family.
As I journeyed to the capital
I reckoned we would see on Monday.
then came the evil caller and you were
gone. gone! gone!! gone my friend!!!
I sobbed, sobbed and cried
hoping you would walk right through the door
But you have not come.
You were not sick,
neither were you depressed,
You were gaily and great
This death came uninvited.
young and nice, my friend,
A fisrt class banker they call you,
But I call you lover of mandkind!
Oh Josh, fateful Friday it was,
You left home kissing Junior and mother
hoping you would come back but
you never did! We are still waiting...
but they said you would not be back Josh!
How do people die?
How do they go to work and never return?
Do they just sleep and sleep on?
Adieu my brother!
Unifying Theories of Light
A waveform particle
Photon phantoms of packets
Indivisible
Oceanic cosmos dusts the material
Separates its contact
By the touch
Of the physical
Human sight by synaptic
Records sunrisen hue
Of tints painted brush strokes
Each brilliant parcel
In spectrum arches
Carries its message
Of choreographed stars
The gossamer veils of mirrors
Shine conduit
Sprinkle fireflies of chaotic
Fractal scenic
Feeding the living
Intensities
Traverses faster and faster
Milliseconds
Blinking awakenings
Consciousness
And associated by love
Transforms appreciations moment
To glory
Flaming banters to star burst
Of darkness
In Universal centres
Lights ricochet of absorption
Reflects outlined form
In an Aura of dancing frequencies
Coordinates
Proliferates
Permeates
Creates
The iconography
Of
You
And
Me
In Eternity
Edges defined by glittering
The swirls and eddies
Of straight line caught rainbows
All washes through the seen
Unseen
Seeded
Spaces
Between
The constant
Torch light of awareness
In a never ending moment
Of proclamation
This finite and infinite sea
Forms open Albedo
Defining its cache
In every individuality
Of every thought
And every conceptions colour artistic
Blade of grass
Petal rain fall
Impenetrable diamond
Refracted forests
Of dancing shadows
Of solar passions
The closest tactile
Expression
Of life
Of
Divinity
Light
Unity