Best Befits Poems


Premium Member A Pregnant Lass

A pregnant lass with eyes of glass had never learned to cope;
once set adrift her fall was swift, she slid a slipp’ry slope.
She fled the curse of worlds perverse by shooting shots of dope,
and stalked discreet’ Asylum Street her daily horoscope.
The stray was struck by passing truck which was her only hope.

Well, Banjo Boy, with little joy, he strums her life entire:
“The wayward waif was never safe; her stars were dark and dire
(born midst the rues and avenues where lack and want aspire)
for no one heeds the childish needs that little ones require;
though faith survives in tempest lives, a swirl within the briar,
infinity grinds as time unwinds, until the winds expire.
Her last caprice? The final peace that no one could deny her - 
whipped by the flood, stray beads of blood are spattered on the spire;
though beads of sweat are cool and wet, cold clotted blood is dryer.”

Though broken there, she’s fled the snare with dying thoughts serene.
And now she’s dead, the rumours spread: her age? a sweet 16,
with child, unwed, her soul stained red, her body so unclean.
A place is sought where she can rot, avoiding churchyard scenes,
in limey pits, as well befits, behind forbidding screens;
and all the while a dirge is styled on tattered tambourines
which echo through the human zoo in valleys of the Queens.

Without rejoice, in hissing voice, near soil that’s seldom trod
“In pious role, God bless my soul”, was mouthed with mitred nod,
 (the twisted grin seemed dark and thin behind the robed façade).
“She’ll burn in hell with sulphur smell”, spat Priest and man of god.

Well, angels sweet with cloven feet, they sing in girl’s attire,
but Banjo Boy, he’s playing coy while chanting in the choir:
“The clueless search within the church to find what they desire,
but near the nave or gravelled grave, there is no Rectifier.”
And when he’s through, without ado, he stacks some stones nearby her.
Categories: befits, people, society,
Form: Rhyme

Gutter Pavement Runway Flight

They elude me now ...words
Drinking befits a drowning man possessed
Swimming off this broken page
Baton winning in a relay race
I breached the ribbon sliced with chest
Joy! I gasped


Grown tired of my own riddles
Those halting jagged lines
Conversely I committed 
So disrespectful of my crimes
In dispatchment utter lunacy
Forgiveness once again!
Ive come to claim my lost respect
My place so quick forgotten was 
So Zeroed out of ten

Twelve steps from cursed enslavement
Danced to music uncontained
Toi-toi in lone detachment
Side stepping their allure
And tangoed with enticement
And cha-cha'd with no cure

Then dropping over hurdles
Burning through those barricades
All over all these obstacles
So help me God I try to change

No longer need prescription
Still sometimes do I crave
Unshackled is your prisoner
Dispossession freed this slave

There is something about that -ism
A mystery by name
Other than recovery
Benign this deathly game
Be it known that happy healing
Doubles, behind the curtains of shame
Categories: befits, addiction, appreciation, day, drug,
Form: Free verse

Rain and Rain and More Rain

On August 29, 2005, the "Rain and Rain and more Rains came", destroying everything we had worked a lifetime for.  My home that we had just finished building, one year ago, all our furniture, keepsakes, irreplaceable cherished photos along with all our cars except the one we were driving.  

The only thing remaining was our boat, "Akula" who suffered a football size hole just above her waterline. I remain grateful that her batteries were charged well enough to continue to bail her out for two consecutive weeks. These rains came in the wrath of a lady named, "Katrina."  "Akula" means shark and it would take a shark to make it through this.

I remember I did not cry like others in my neighborhood.  I felt it was just a home which could be rebuilt.  I also know it did not completely destroy Akula or I would have cried.  There's something about a man's boat that befits both sexes and that something is called "Real Love."

Aboard 'Akula" along with the Red Cross, we managed to feed the neighbors for weeks on end.  You don't need to know about the multitude of snakes that were inside my house hiding in closets waiting to strike or the wild hogs that were blown in, eating from the plentiful tossed out refrigerators.

All you need to know is that the people were not lazy  The only reason they did not leave is because all of us have heard "Cry Wolf" so many times that when a Hurricane threatens it's just an excuse for a red Solo cup party.  Simply put: If anyone had known they would die they would not have stayed.

A few weeks later with communication restored we learned that two of our friends drowned, one in Bay St Louis, MS and the other in Biloxi.  I didn't cry.  Feelings are neither right nor wrong, they just are....



Francine's  Rain - contest

5/25/13
© Judy Konos  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: befits, nature,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


The Clawing On the Inner Walls of My Skull

Give into pure thought, I'll entice you a spell,
Extracted from fear, fear my own hell.
The trees, they fall, the air, it drowns,
From beasts of skin, these earth-dwelling clowns.
Stuck in my mind,
Thoughts confined,
Of a life lived purely; a being redefined.
So I slip on my thought cap,
A brain full of tears,
To express all my feelings,
Few cheers - no cheers,
Jeers, the jeers.

The savagery of melancholy,
Befits of thee, a contrast to me!
Diluted eyes make everything fine,
Even through qualms,
Of spilled red wine.
If wine be thine own,
Yourself to condone,
For the seeds of pain already be sown.
No nature to blame,
Your soul to shame!
For life is more than only a game.
Blow your head off with solemn conviction,
Nought was heard save one conniption,
A cry to thy god,
A blatant ophidian.

A human unfit of a life coexistent,
Fear of slipping, running so distant.
Human, none of nature,
Just a foul spirit, a damnable creature.
O cruel confinement, I so wish I could live,
In a tale of nature,
True, righteous existence to give.
But such is the fate of all human being,
Of a life of eyes, prone to not seeing,
Seeing the pain of mother nature's tears,
For shame to you all,
You have become your own fears.
Categories: befits, conflict, dark, deep, depression,
Form:

An Angel In Disguise

Angelically 'gainst windowpane.  
   Pure innocence, with child like eyes.
   Her gentle charms are so serene,
   With grace unblemished by a stain.
   That portrait so befits a queen.
   This shining light, in maidens guise,
   In time, would paradise regain?
   Her elegance, no gaze denies.
   Enchantment simply evergreen.
   True beauty; she,will still remain,
   Heaven; on Earth, her wings unseen.
   Truly an Angel in disguise.

    2/ 26/ 2015.
Categories: befits, angel,
Form: Rhyme

The Poetry of Hope

Every once in a while I lose myself
But I’m glad the dreams are coming back
I feel the thrill filling me
I feel my heartbeat rising
I see redemption rising in the days ahead
I still realise once again that I’ve earned another chance to begin anew
Still glad that it’s early in life
...and I can apply the lessons I’ve learnt before I’m twenty five

Phew! Boy, my heart’s beating fast
I shall no longer look at my past
For the past is just that
...opportunities gone with the wind, never to come back
I look towards the days ahead
I spend today to dream of the future I intend
For I know now tomorrow is bound to come
Today was but a dream ten years back
Had I realised then how soon today would come
I’d already be rich riding on the wings of independence
I pledge never to make that mistake again

Today I shall live like I plan
...and not like my neighbour Mr. Wright
For I know not how much he earns to spend the way he does
Today I shall not live like the society around me
For I don’t know whether they think ahead 
...of the days that are bound to be raining with storms of emergency
I pledge to live as befits me
I plan to live today in a way that enables me to save
For now I know I was right ten years ago
But I hadn’t the courage to follow a route of my own
Now I’m determined ten years to come...
I’ll be riding on the unicorn of delight

I pay no care for what those here and there may air
I wanna be happy today in my moderate ways
Knowing all too well I’m headed where
There, in the future where my heavy dreams will float in the air
I’m no hater so for the rest of the players here
I wish all the goodwill and good wishes my subconscious can air
Categories: befits, dedication, devotion, faith, hope,
Form: Narrative


The Vacuous Man

I drink...
Alone, all the time, always thinking,
About past times that should have been.
I should have done this, I should have done that,
I never get the chance to do anything,
Because nothing ever goes my way,
As I'm too busy anyhow,
My bravery is diminished just for now
And life's dreams will be fulfilled another day...
And confrontational pressure will soon go away.

My life is a struggle, and
Like dead weight, I plop back down,
A tiring sigh befits my frown,
Viscous is my life's blood,
Laziness is my likelihood,
I am a self-trapped man.
Self-esteem, non-existent,
Life is sucked out, numbed is my soul,
Nothing here, no spirit left,
Nothing but skin and bones.
Imminent is my digress,
Divest of intellectual progress.

I go over the events in my mind,
The portrayal of my life, and I shine,
It's so exciting, yet so elusive,
My drunkenness has gotten me stupid,
Once again.
For I relished the vivid, savor the imagined
Wallowing in what could have happened
And afraid to take the real first step.
I'm swirling, swirling, swirling,
Filled with sameness and frustration,
Face red and swollen 
With the day's libation,
Eyes are glazed, mind on vacation,
My true reality, always distant,
The ice cracks and pops to the marriage of spirits and
I drink...
© John Reed  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: befits, confusion, inspirational, introspection, life,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Fourth Kingdom

“Fair fa’ your honest, sonsie, face
Great Chieftain o’ the Puddin-race!”
“Address To A Haggis”, Robert Burns, 1786.
(Keeper o’er the Fourth Kingdom)

Robert, Robert, Fourth Kingdom
Gate Keeper.
No Telestial glory
Befits the poet deeper!

Wherefore is thy legacy
Robert Burns, regretfully
Wherefore is thy Haggis?
Thy Puddin’ flees before thee.

Thy Hippopotami give birth
Purple, purple, such deliver
The royal eggplant hatchling
That multiplies the giver!

Celestial porridge is thy claim
As such befits thy story
But no resplendent poet name
Perpetuates thy glory

Terrestial kingdoms blissfully
Reject that higher leaven
But thou hast won, delectably
That Kingdom Fourth of Heaven!
Categories: befits, imagery, inspirational, literature, passion,
Form: Romanticism

Premium Member Time for a Serious Poem

  It's time for a serious poem
    So I can truly show 'em
  That I've mastered metaphor
    simile, prosaic petit fours ... 

  I'll pull out all the stops
    rhyme and meter, extra hops
  Brew up such a batch of phraseology
    as befits an epic of eschatology ... 

  My vocabulary will absolutely astound you
    as to the heights it soars and leaps-'n'-bounds you
  And as for opaque literary allusions
    why, there will be multitudinous profusions ... 

  But if all this still does not pass critical muster
     ~ I'll hire AI to adjust her
Categories: befits, allusion, hyperbole, language, metaphor,
Form: Couplet

Divine Hand

Happy birthday jake
All shall thee have for takes
Protection from Him your fate
Prayers and love from a friend
Years and more in your name

By this a star was given
Indeed a balance to all as even
Rich a hero so befits
To be a divine hand as given
However stooping yet simple
Divine hand really is given
As always seen a steven
Your years a gem in all seasons

Jake! A tag to a guru
Also called by okechukwu
Knees as blessed by the mighty with
Enduring charisma so lovely

Only good wishes can I offer
Keeping the admirations conferred
Exceeding all boundaries in thy area
Challenges only noticed in arrears
Happiness I wish thee in life with
Unending joy in all thy thrives 
Knowing all the echo starts
With thy name amidst all
Undoubtably blessed and graced
Categories: befits, celebration, december, mentor,
Form: Acrostic

Premium Member Sun Sparkles

Sun sparkles off the ground where water sits
Inspiration comes from each reflection
The stream goes and flows through some trees and bits
Land covers special portion and section

Trees have golden orange leaves that filled them
Sun sparkles off the ground where water sits
Bushes that remained green are quite the gem
Seems the ground is alive with yellow pits

The sun comes in through the trees with some grit
It illumines not just water, but leaves
Sun sparkles off the ground where water sits
Trees also show off how the red believes

Beauty shines right where I stand looking down
All this land for a King it sure befits
I would surely bring the maker a crown
Sun sparkles off the ground where water sits

Russell Sivey
Categories: befits, light, red, sun, tree,
Form: Quatern

Premium Member Never Land Part 3

Now, Railroad Bob has lost his job, he’s got no place for working,

His wife, she cries with desperate eyes, their baby’s head’s a’ jerking.

The union man don’t give a damn, Big Brother lies a’ lurking,

the boss’ in cabs are picking scabs, they count their money, smirking.



A pregnant lass with eyes of glass has never learned to cope.

Once set adrift her fall was swift, she slid a slipp’ry slope -

she casts the Curse, the Holy Verse, and shoots a shot of dope,

and stalks discreet Asylum Street her daily horoscope -

the stray was struck by random truck which was her only hope.



Well, Banjo Boy, with little joy, he strums her life entire:

“The wayward waif was never safe; her stars were dark and dire.

Born midst the rues and avenues where lack and want aspire

where no one heeds the childish needs that little ones require;

where faith survives in tempest lives, a swirl within the briar,

Infinity grinds as time unwinds, until the winds expire.

Her last caprice? The final peace that no one could deny her -

whipped by the flood, stray beads of blood are spattered on the spire;

though beads of sweat are cool and wet, cold clotted blood is dryer.”



Though broken there, she’s fled the snare with dying thoughts serene.

And now she’s dead, the rumours spread: her age? a sweet 16,

with child, unwed, her soul dyed red, her body so unclean.

A place is sought where she can rot, avoiding churchyard scenes,

in limey pits, as well befits, behind forbidding screens;

and all the while a dirge is styled on tattered tambourines

which echo through the human zoo in valleys of the Queens.



Without rejoice, in hissing voice, near soil that’s seldom trod

“In pious role, God bless my soul”, was mouthed with mitred nod,

neath scarlet trim with black, and grim, behind a robed facade -

“She’ll burn in hell and sulphur smell”, spat Priest and man of god.



Well, angels sweet with cloven feet, they sing in girl’s attire,

but Banjo Boy, he’s playing coy while chanting in the choir:

“The clueless search within the church to find what they desire,

but near the nave or gravelled grave, there is no Rectifier.”

And when he’s through, without ado, he stacks some stones nearby her.

Continued
Categories: befits, fantasy, society,
Form: Rhyme

In the Fall

In the fall. Our favorite fall. The time of the poets, the colors of yellow marry cold and people Exchange friendship and looking new era, give erotic kissing and not afraid of white winter comes, not afraid of other eager United and strong, as befits the bravest of the universe, life explorers, Pirates of evolution.
Categories: befits, adventure, celebration, character, encouraging,
Form: Dramatic Monologue

Evil Revenge

Seal pup eyed,
forgiveness she cried.
Mistakes were made
but deceit and lies
remain to blame
for where she now lays.

Bludgeoned to death
by a word made club.
Born of revenge
for sins to my heart,
punishment fits
her backstabbing ways.

She took the kicks
but wasn't aware
the blows came from me.
Slanderous jibes
to colleagues and friends
tore down her life.

The breakdown befits
her crime to mock.

She sought my shoulder.
Comfort I gave;
"Pills are the answer,
they numb the pain.
Swallow the bottle,
vodka will help"

Following my call
tragic news came.
Oh no what a shame,
I won that game.
© Rob Carter  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: befits, betrayal,
Form: Narrative

I Am Pyrite

what truth falls from these lips is gold,
and the truth is that I am pyrite,
and the lies are the aureate smiles
that beam sunshine to start your day
but in reality mark the end in glittering, golden twilight.

a travesty of the honesty,
$8 at the gift store,
praying you think you see
the sheen that befits a majesty,
and forget that lesson in science class
that labeled me as... 
doppelganger,
wannabe, 
imposter,
gold as much as quartz are diamonds...

but after the purchase, who cares?
Marvel at me and later recall
that you chose Fool's Gold

and thus you are a fool,
and thus I belong to you.

*I'm not sure about the rest of the poem starting from the second stanza. Does it fit? Does it feel right? Comment your feedback. Note that this comment will be taken down after a period of time.
© Ekso Ekso  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: befits, betrayal, color, imagery, irony,
Form: Free verse
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