Best Barbed Poems

I have deleted the 2 poems I posted earlier today, and instead I offer what will be my final write.  I have read the...

Read more of this work...

Mohammed Ali

Cassius Clay

The Legend

He was not a humble man
Everything he did, was big and grand
He taunted and barbed with poetic flair
His opponents he angered
Entertainment in...

Read more of this work...

While whispers shush on sheltered shores, as soon the cockcrow quakes,
the seas descry a skittish sky, sense summer zephyrs wake  –
roused passions neath the...

Read more of this work...

He just appeared to me, like wispily curling 
Chimney smoke, 
One grim and early morning in the very midst of 
Decembers briefest days, on the...

Read more of this work...

They flutter and hover
And float on the breeze.
They shiver and shimmer
And weaken the knees.
Fickle and fragile,
They tickle and tease.
Fleeting and flimsy,
Deceptively free.  

These frivolous...

Read more of this work...

All heads are bowed in Soup Creek today
The town’s elder statesman has passed on his way
A gentleman true whose tongue wasn’t forked
To whom people listened...

Read more of this work...

“The True Mother”

What part of a heart
in another could one trust
when betrayal comes
like a silver bullet, words and deeds
sharp piercing to burrow 
bleed out Life’s...

Read more of this work...

Stayed 
             in the sun 
       ...

Read more of this work...

A white liberal editor said what I wrote wasn’t black enough.
I spoke to him with confidence,
with a hole in my shirt I had tucked in...

Read more of this work...

I am a word, a simple scribble - 
ink arranged on empty page;
I'm voiced with passion from a preacher's 
pulpit, or the actor's stage.
 ...

Read more of this work...

you wear away at me with your silence
not with whetted words
or physical altercations
there are no recriminations
No...
it's much more corrosive than all of that
this is the...

Read more of this work...

My life
Is not a bed of roses

If I fall on stony ground 
I hurt

If I prick my finger on a thorn
I bleed

Little digs can hurt...

Read more of this work...

White marble stones
Stand proud in the sun
To remember my colleagues
The heroic fallen ones
 
Many a battle
Many a campaign
Some did return
For some never the same
 
On...

Read more of this work...

The flames of the furnace (well-travelled by wind
slowly glazing the rags of gray women chagrined
at the sight of a hair fleeing tresses now thinned) 
sometimes...

Read more of this work...

Rain is brewing; 
black clouds hang over the Cockpit Country.
Them rainclouds have a habit of shifting colors like a lizard.
The smell of the pending shower...

Read more of this work...