Best Belittles Poems
If only I could respond to this woman who shrieks
Who knows so little about whereof she speaks,
Belittles comments she so desperately seeks
Her social and political rantings go on for weeks.
I am amazed that her poetry is so ungrammatical
We would all be better off if she took a sabbatical,
Or spent her time in some more profitable pursuit
Hasn’t she learned that most of us don’t give a hoot.
Today she ignored all the facts and hit on vaccines
Spewed more venom on our president, it seems,
Took a few shots at the world situation in general
Has nothing positive to say, it borders on criminal.
I’ve noticed the recent absence of others of her ilk
They seem to have wilted like early fall cornsilk,
Apparently, folks like her do not fade with neglect
Poetry Soup is best when everyone shows respect.
Those poets who choose to share their beliefs
Are welcome, great; hatred, however, offers no relief
Putting down my country, my president, my politics
With disrespect, I will respond to these lunatics.
Written October 1, 2021
44th on Best 100 Poems of the Month
Poetry Soup, October 3, 2021
POEM OF THE DAY
October 2, 2021
Why
are there
stars in heaven above
annoying pinpricks in the firmament?
No need for black holes if all stars were shot on sight.
The reach for the stars is hopeless they are so far away we can never visit them.
Knowing the vastness of the universe belittles and demeans us to insignificance.
We would all feel a lot better, sleep a lot better, if stars were switched off.
Like city lights, stars glare, twinkle, flash so bright all night
that we cannot sleep, and shut shutters are so stifling.
If no stars shone, we could leave the curtains open.
Better not to know what may be out there
when aliens may be coming to get us
Celestial abstinence and solitude
is what we all cherish.
Let us hold a vote.
Raise your hands
if you want
all the stars
switched
to off;
stars
shot.
This is a true poem,but is it true because the "one"who it is about might be "IN""THE SON OF PERDITION"? I WONDER. Donald Trump is the "Duse" in "The Republican Party"and The Duse is taking all!Donald is "Trumping them all"! At the very "Top" remains "Donald J. Trump,and "The Duse continues to "Trump " them all! Donald holds all four duces and throws one out each day,and takes it back as the game proceeds in play!!! Duces are wild,and duses "Trump All" wheather they be aces,kings,jacks,or anything when they are in play,and Donald Trump uses his four "Duses" to take the one duce back that he gave away!! Donald loves to "Play",and he is really in style,because "NO ONE" is beating Donald in "Duses are wild! Donald was a "Gifted Independent Republican Child"! Donald is part of the"Independent Republican Party",because he parties hardy,and now "The Republicans" are "The Majority"!!! They are partying hardy ! Donald Trump says that he has studied "Political Science" for only six months,and Donald ;Trumps,and Trumps,and Trumps,and he is leading all of his Republican contenders everyday,and in every way.His Democratic,and Republican contenders are career politicians who can "Debate" and win,but since Donald Trump took all the "Duces"away from them he is really "Trumping Them All!!! Donald is a "Gifted Independent Republican Republican Man" who "Towers" over them all,and Donald sits "Atop" Trump Tower,and belittles them all! Donald Trump is free to be whom ever he wants to be,because he realizes that he lives in a "Democracy"! Donald Trump is trying to be "The Best" that he can be as President,and his "Duty" is to keep "Freedom"from going into any kind of "Captivity"!!!! Donald is Trumping them all!!
In reality
Loneliness is often the price you pay
When you start improving yourself
Jealousy will walk toward you
But you should not let misery stop your path
Bath yourself with perseverance
Victory belongs to you
Finishing your goals is inside of you
And believing in something bigger is a part of you
In a season
Loneliness can bring clarity
A person who belittles you is only
Trying to cut you down to their size
But have none of it
You don’t have to fit in!
In reality
Loneliness can often be
The price you pay when
You start to improve yourself
Mark Frank
Copyright 2023
Love
Passionate, Patient
Encourages, Uplifts, Captivates
Feelings, Control, Power, Emotions
Hurts, Belittles, Consumes
Dangerous, Burning
Hate
Who are you, I was asked today
I started to be smart and say only my name
Again they asked who are you
But this time with a little attitude
I am a black young lady
Soon to be graduating with my Paralegal degree
I may not be graduating to be a lawyer
But I am somebody
I may not be
The perfect liitle girl my dad wants me to be
But we both seem to agree
That I am somebody
Yes, I may not have your money
And I may not be wealthy
But my mom and dad taught me that I don't have to have big money
Just know that I am somebody
To you I may be ugly
To you I may be pretty
But watch what you call me
Because I am somebody
You may see things in my past that wasn't done perfectly
It may now even affect me
But don't be so quick to judge me
Because I am somebody
You may laugh at me
Because I don't see myself the way you see me
I may not be better than you
But I am somebody
I don't want to be the President of the United States
Or the Ambassador of an overseas country
I don't know what my future awaits
But there's one thing I do know, that I am somebody
There are days when people belittles me
Life with them must be going terribly cause they appear to have low self-esteem
And feel like a nobody
Don't try to get me on that same page 'cause I know that I am somebody
I AM SOMEBODY!!!!
If rhyme belittles verse then let it be;
At night the sun outshines eclipsing moon.
And though no green is seen on any tree,
By shrouds of dark unwind the bright cocoon.
Around in circles back to where we start,
Let footsteps never trace or hold your hand;
I’ve seen you smile. I’ve felt my breathless heart.
I’ve written poems I don’t understand.
Yet, who am I to speak, besides unknown?
In truth, I often ask the very same.
From youthful chords reverb an ancient tone;
My measures merely sing without a name,
But yours I whisper; may joy be upon it;
This poet declares your beauty his sonnet.
*Image of The Big Bang Theory giphy by CBS.
Coronavirus: COVID-19
A knock upon my chambered door, silence foregone, it goes ignored,
Too feeble I, coldness instills, lain I awry e'er filled with chills,
Vice convince spree goes on toiling, thrice has it been, owned its spoiling,
My eyes have seen, I've read the news, tried ears have be, shunned knocked sound blues,
Scores abound knocked chambered door, roars I cannot, for I am sore,
Then suddenly, a stillness had come, my chambered door, went silently numb,
So I, read on, of coronavirus, tis recent so hence be it naught an antivirus,
Kept abreast of things albeit online, inducement, the spread, signs, all be I fine,
Cawing gawked my chambered window, peering through midst raised crescendo,
A black raven tis annoyance it is the calling, disturbance afoot, perpetual cawing,
A chapter be read, of the ailment, fear breeds in verses, amongst confinement,
As a bird scrutinize, belittles my illness, with a litany of awk, pesty nuisances,
Fatal passages beset home and town, beat I the averages, best all around,
A door and window, be I immune, alas, a dreaded raven befalls its lampoon.
2020 March 12
*2nd Place*
Coronavirus COVID-19
~~Team PoetrySoup: Judged 2020 May 12
Poets who spew
Poets who haven’t a glue
Poets who use words
To intimidate and skew
Opinions twisted in division
Instead of healing societies wounds
When serving men are killed in cold blood
No matter my view
My heart bleeds for their families
Compassion is my vision
I am NO THUG
Notes: Dedicated to 2 police officers killed on duty in cold blood in New York City.
At the time of this tragedy, it is tasteless and crude to write anything at all that
Belittles men who serve. With all that has happened in the United States, concerning the police, let us remember, most serve and defend with pride, we must bring people together
Not divide and especially not spew hatred and falsehoods. God bless
Could spectres conceal inscrutable plot,
while following lives with clandestine eyes:
mocking each movement with grace we have not.
Caste-less company of foolish and wise,
elusive and tireless, always impend:
fleet, ever positioned to criticize.
Noiselessly waiting at each journey's end
watching and judging, without acquittal,
deeds that we're proud of, and some to defend.
Their aloofness lessens us, belittles
as around all they swoop, dread silent crows,
and yet are scattered like children's skittles
when darkness descends with one immense blow,
for night is queen of secrets and shadows.
The Anger Speaks To Me
The anger speaks to me of some long distant
fear. I do not remember becoming angry, only
that I am angry. The anger is hidden, or so I’d
like to think, deep inside a vault alongside the
fear. The fear provokes the anger and uses it
to deflect its sense of defenselessness, its
certain knowledge that there are demons in
the mind that torture the soul and threaten
the fragile peace. The fear does not understand
that the anger cannot protect it from the demons,
for the fear is of the demons, the presence
of their past. The anger hides in hate, or so it claims,
to hate this, and that, to hate them all. Who are
they? And why such a heinous hatred toward
them? Perhaps the demons have become the
fear and the hate, have duped me once again
into protecting them, concealing them in
dark and painful places in my soul. It would
be ironic if the fear and anger’s masquerade
as hatred is their ultimate charade, their Fait
Accompli, a psychic Trojan horse. Still
the anger speaks to me, screams at me,
belittles and berates me as a coward,
giving me no peace, no solace from the
hate the demons planted long ago and
left to torture me, and all who came to
know the anger, and to feel its wrath.
The anger speaks to me and I am unable,
or too fearful, not to answer.
I have a sense that the last refuge of the
demons is in the fear and anger, but
I am afraid and I am angry
and I hate it.
John G. Lawless
2013
Feasting and exchanging gifts in full swing
On the New Year day in King Arthur’s court
A green knight armed with an axe enters
And challenges anyone present in the court
To strike him once with his axe on a condition
That he will return the blow in one year and a day.
Sir Gawain, nephew to the king accepts it.
He severs the Green knight’s head in one stroke
But he picks up his own head reminding him
To meet at the Green chapel in a year and a day.
Time passes, Gawain heads for the Green Chapel
Tired on the way encounters a beautiful castle
Where he meets Bertilak, the lord of the castle.
Next day Bertilak proposes a bargain to Gawain
Before going hunting that he’ll give what he catches
In return Gawain’ll give what he gains during the day.
As he leaves Lady Bertilak tries to seduce Gawain
Her best efforts result in just one single kiss only.
On return Bertilak gives Gawain the deer he killed.
Gawain returns the lady’s kiss keeping the secret.
Next day the lady comes and gets two kisses
There’s similar exchange of a boar for two kisses.
On the third she comes and offers a girdle to him
There’s exchange of three kisses and keeps the girdle.
There is similar exchange of a fox and three kisses.
Then, Gawain leaves for Green Chapel with girdle.
The green knight belittles Gawain in the fight
And he could have killed him but causes a small scar.
The green knight turns out to be Lord Bertilak himself.
It’s a game planned Morgan le Fay, King Arthur’s sister.
Gawain returns to Camelot wearing the girdle in shame.
Shadowed by feelings of dread,
self-doubt, belittles self-worth.
Rejection and forlornness
have traumatized you since birth.
Loneliness fuels the pain
of a future fraught with fear.
And that overwhelming weight
crushes with a single tear.
Eroded by acid tears,
hope exists only in dreams.
And fantasy's illusion
cannot stifle silent screams.
Craving eternal relief,
you hope that death is the end.
Forever sounds frightening
when you've never known a friend.
A Sonnet begets life.
Joy, her child, leaves her womb,
bliss that transcends the tomb
and dulls the Reaper's scythe!
Ah! Joy belittles strife;
delight, as from bedrooms
(without impassive gloom),
makes mother of a wife.
When bards compose, ardent
wax the virgin Sonnets
with their pens: eloquent
the more, beauty begets
desire; then makes pregnant
with Joy which ne'er forfeits.
Strangle
You don’t realize
How much I hate your guts
Clutch a glass so tight
I don’t see the blood
Leaking from the shards
That’ve dug deep into my skin.
Eyes twitching like I’m on caffeine
Gritting my teeth as the steam rises out of my head
Every molecule in my body boiling over
To the point of a whistleblowing like a tea pot.
How I despise you
How I loathe you
How I hate you
To the point that I want you dead.
Wrap my bloody fingers
Around your neck
Grip it like like a quarterback
Holding a football
Watching as the color fades
As you struggle to breath for air.
Begging for mercy
Falls on deaf ears
For I’m too busy chewing you out
Like a wolf chewing the meat of his prey.
You’re nothing, but a hollow man
Wallowing in the past
A sexist who belittles women
A racist who belittles races.
You piss me off to the point
I want to see you head to the grave
Much sooner then later
So it’s not your family
You put in the ground first.
Do you see your life
Flashing before your eyes?
Do you feel remorse
For the sins that you’ve committed?
Do you feel anything
In that hollow soul of yours?
Now your near death’s door
Satan’s got your VIP pass
On your one way trip to Hell
Giving you the exclusive perks
Of being the one to be tortured
Then have his way with you until you give the safe word.
If you don’t wish to die
You better redeem yourself
It’s never too late
To turn your life around.
If you don’t want to die
You better beg like the slug that you are
Pull your weight, pick up the slack
Start acting like a real man.
Let this strangle be a lesson
Of what happens when you push
People near the edge
Their gonna retaliate.
Fangs come out
Claws ready to strike
You better watch out, you psycho bastard
Because you're gonna be torn to shreds!