Best Begging Poems
A yellow song about autumn
Leaves falling slowly
May nature embrace me gently
Birds mixing tunes
Of such ecstatic sound
Rising a sweet melody
Creeds and song carried with the wind
in the highest tempo
Kissing one heart priceless gold
Crossing bridges and mountain majesty of the world
Rustling softly breathless whispers treasure
Most quiet need, by autumn sun and candlelight
Like sweet thoughts in a dream
Dazzling of wonder as magical charms
floating flutters gently on a breeze
Delightful day it is for all who dwell
delicately blown upon warm sunlight rays
The sumptuous yearning of summer that left
Breathtaking feeling dance circles around
Viewing elements and seasons as they change
Deeply touches embracing beauty inside
Into the dawn's early and tender caresses
You stand in front of the sun
morning dewdrops upon your vision
Written by L. Mcdaid & A-L Andresen :) 16.10.2015
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Oh dearest
most beautiful divine darling
Like an angel uplifting love
the ground begins crumbling
underneath these feet
floating I am to you
In every warm breath kissing
sweet sun setting delight
you're always making me smile
Even in the darkest night
you're my fire fly
blazing hot a dream
When I am a fallen angel
your love reaches down and picks me up
Straight from out of the darkness
that enveloped my being
Whom rouses the spirit high
empowering the mind
Deeply dancing around this soul
joyous music now sings
smiling pure milky white
would love honey
just to kiss you
I lost my whole family
So I took in a neighbor
I have paid, sold, washed, shopped, cleaned, and done for this neighbor more than anyone in his life has
His own children won't call him,
but I do
His ex wife is dating his old friend
I continue to encourage him
He is lost in the meta verse
One day he'll tell people about me like he tells me about others
All of the good people he Met in life are all memories now
and I reminded him one day you'll explain how you had a beautiful person who BEGGED to be your sister.
Showed you more love than your own kids
but because she is a BLACK WOMAN
she means nothing- you'll never call her your sister
you will never protect her like family.
You will remember her for cursing when she's mad
No matter how much she does you will never protect her from men'
because our men are so scared and weak in character.
I deserve better and will never beg to be anyone's family again.
The busted fire hydrant on the corner sprays water down like rain.
Water gushes down the dirty gutter, relieving this humid pain.
Sipping iced tea in their air-conditioned houses on the hill or in high-rise,
They don’t know how the streets burn little feet, or pretend not to realize.
They call us poor white trash, no charity we are shown.
I can virtually live on nothing when nothing is all I’ve known.
College I finished on top of the class. How far did it get me?
I have nowhere to hang my hat or wall to hang my degree.
The streets teach lessons of a hard knocks life.
You learn to survive despite hunger and strife.
You learn how to rob Peter in order to pay Paul,
And that stale, day old bread’s better than no bread at all.
You quickly find out just how warm the newspaper can be,
As you hold a cardboard sign, begging change from society.
Laid off from your job with no severance pay,
It doesn’t take long ‘til you’ve got nowhere to stay.
No family to help you when the chips are down,
You find yourself walking the mean streets of town.
How will you turn your whole life around?
Get a job and regular pay when you’re sleeping on the ground?
You need more than a meal and night’s stay in a shelter,
You need society to give a damn and be a real helper.
Quit ignoring the problem. Don’t look the other way.
Do something to help. That could easily be you some day.
The map is not the terrain.
Unless we shift, all’s in vain.
Stop begging, go out and do;
let embrace of love renew.
Thinking too much, man’s disease;
love’s not an object to seize.
Once we shift from head to heart,
each moment marks a fresh start.
Mind-body is merely dust.
Each breath intake, is God’s thrust.
We are being breathed by Him
but ego makes soul’s light dim.
27-April-2023
Forgive me
my Lord for wrongly thinking
that
every hardship and tribulation You put me through
was my condemnation
when
your aim, I clearly now see, was
my soul's salvation!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
22 APRIL 2020
What are people waiting for? They're yelling, can you hear?
They're wanting an apology, I'm offended that is clear
I'm nor inferring anything, to make my point to you
Some people turn a blind eye, and at times a deaf ear too
You really must be thinking, why care about the Vet
You think the more important point, what immigrants should get
Forget about the homeless Vets, (they helped to make you free)
Fight for rights of immigrants, they want it all, you'll see
No, we're not talking all of them, but take a look around
I mean throughout the USA, assimilation can't be found
They're ethnic tight communities, you wouldn't dare move there
Our Government's not mandating, they open up and share
It really took us quite a while to share with everyone
and after many years of strife, it finally has been done
Discrimination ads are airing, Government plans today
each and every block must mix, throughout the USA
Forget the Middle-Easterners , their communities stay intact
they need not ever mix with us, our Government speaks, that's fact
They scream "Islamic-phobia" what right have we to judge
like other groups from years now past, some will hold a grudge
The danger comes as time goes by, their conscience guides their way
they feel compelled to wage their war, so expect them any day
Don't even try to change their mind, their path is carved in stone
our way of life they can't accept, our peace they won't condone.....
That rule was begging to be broken
Y’know the one about women?
Of conformity for cat calls and
Gift wrapped shoulders and legs?
How about “no” to breastfeeding
How about “whore” for “too revealing”?
I’m sick of these notions, it’s too unappealing.
I am a nonconformist of a woman
The one that daunts you in your wake.
Come at me with your “don’t”s for women
I’ll show you my scars of everyday crusades.
I’ve battled tirades of piercing tongues
Of sharp fingers engraved into skins
I’m supposed to be hidden beneath them
Because I walk like i’m a woman
Because I walk like a human being
But I stomp these woman feet of mines
To tell you “That ain’t gonna be me”
Nor will it be any woman in this world
‘Cause that rule was begging to be broken
When this woman marched for gender equality.
QUIETLY BEGGING
Quietly begging the sandman - not prayers,
Just the usual inventive techniques
There have been nightmares
Nightmares? Nothing really frightening,
Not yet, just crazy, like
A boatman pointing an opposite shore,
Inviting
Pillow soft, yielding, deep
Bedspread, smooth, rippling
Eye lids heavy in his keep
Uhmm, hummmmmmmm…
“Old granny knows a young child’s heart
Now. Take a bite!
Yessssss, Sleep. Sleeeeeeep. Sleep.”
Dave Austin
================================
~*~
bonny
comely
worthy
lofty
sculpted milieu, bonny, comely sphere
"STARVED " - thirsty for worthy, lofty cheer.
~*~
===================================
A yellow song about autumn
Leaves falling slowly
May nature embrace me gently
Birds mixing tunes
Of such ecstatic sound
Rising a sweet melody
Creeds and song carried with the wind
in the highest tempo
Kissing one heart priceless gold
Crossing bridges and mountain majesty of the world
Rustling softly breathless whispers treasure
Most quiet need, by autumn sun and candlelight
Like sweet thoughts in a dream
Dazzling of wonder as magical charms
floating flutters gently on a breeze
Delightful day it is for all who dwell
delicately blown upon warm sunlight rays
The sumptuous yearning of summer that left
Breathtaking feeling dance circles around
Viewing elements and seasons as they change
Deeply touches embracing beauty inside
Into the dawn's early and tender caresses
You stand in front of the sun
morning dewdrops upon your vision
Written by L. Mcdaid & A-L Andresen :) 16.10.2015
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
The ring of the phone
Rip sound of an envelope
Leave me in my world
Is it just me or has “poetry”,
Become a word for “vomit”,
They’re words without phonetic symmetry,
As if “poem” was synonymical for “omelet”.
Can a poem truly be anything and all,
A writer deems or seems in any way?
Are words without rhyme or flow to y’all,
A “poem” no matter what they say?
I long for Shelley and Whitman and Wilde,
Whose content coalesced with form and lyric,
Rather than the written words of a child,
Whose empiric entries are at best satiric.
Oh poets remind us of what our voice can do,
When laced with lust for literature and nomenclature,
Whose languid lore can lavish in tone and hue,
Within the art that best defines the beauty of human nature.
the canto of begging
1.
when the morning sets in
with the sun rising in the east
i put on the dress of a beggar
extended up to the horizon
and the canto of my begging starts
i beg
beside the big-bazar
beside the fly-over
beside the college-campus
beside the cow-market
you then put your elbow
on the body of the day
giving a perfect and unbiased pose
to attached to the album of life
people of the working-class
spread hither and thither
to write some more decimal fraction
on the notebook of life
2.
in the dusts and soil of rural-bengal
in the testament written by the grass
i am a son of the immortal
my begging-bowl is the most
favourite go-ahead of a alone man
then speaking around are
the chop singara aluposta
and the love-story of a hyacinth
blooming in the pond
blind by mud
also in the overflowed dustbin of the city
waiting rightly with an erected head
the excitement of your absence
3.
coming to this canto of begging
do you know
i enjoy both
your intensity and your sharpness
your secret current flows me to the pore of the skin
of the body of the puller of a hand-barrow
your cold attracts me
towards the syllabus of waning moonlight
i do realise now that the stale afternoons
saved in my pocket
stitched so many new muscles
with my vocal chord
and i’m howling in joy…
4.
what’s an enjoyment… hahaha…day after day
spending too much chaos
and living to so little extent
tell me is it the least
within the left-over on the leaf-plates
after eating by the baboos
i can discover more and more
love
the mango tree the grass-hopper my begging-bowl
and from the tune of the laxmi-panchali
coming from the middle-class houses
listen, how flourishing is my mother-tongue
Once a man, an elderly
Was in the sunshine begging
His face was dim and dry to see
Unshaven, unappealing
And as I stared he came to me.
Trembling hands reached out to me
As I stood there observing
But I did not feel pity, see,
His ugliness emanating
I wished to, from the old man, flee.
From my hands, it fell in his,
A penny, mere, a penny,
He stared at it and saw it is
The most expectable from me
And wondered to the sky, what bliss!
But then as days went by and by
My heart remembered more
It filled my nights with many sighs
Of guilt for being sore
And to myself, I wondered, “Why?”
But then a friend of mine, I met
Who told me such a story
Of when there was a rich man yet
Who fell to such great misery
And who’s to know his fate he met?
I wondered, why I hadn’t seen
The handsome wealthy man behind
The shaggy clothes and eyes so keen.
Then I went, the fellow, to find,
And smiled at him.. I wasn’t mean.
That little smile was meant to be
A clearly thought apology
For having been so cruelly blind
To how a man can sometimes find
A fate as bad that changes lives!