Best Benefitted Poems
So black lives matter now we say
their worth now seen anew
While ages past we saw the day
we recognized so few.
But white lives matter too they said
and brown and yellow too
Yet centuries of hidden bled
‘neith toes of masters’ shoes
Enslavement built our country strong
in goods and crops and funds
A wealthy nation moved along
on backs of murdered sons.
We benefitted, all us here
no matter when arrived
The trials, the deaths of lives held dear,
paid forth while some survived.
To teach, to know our history past
to claim what we have done
to own the wrongs we’ve amassed
and could never be undone
In knowledge learned we find our quest
to right the wrongs we’ve made
To drop our shields, our acts confessed
True history now conveyed,
Now streets so loud, with anger, fear,
drums beat resounding clatter
How long ‘till we erupt in cheers
that every black life matters.
I was criticized and humiliated
Only because I chose love.
I was bad mouthed and cursed
Only because I chose myself.
I used to think they loved me
And I realized it was because they benefitted.
As soon as they found out I was expecting
they said it serves me right.
And whenever I visited them
they'd make calls left, right and center.
Not because they cared and wanted to update others,
but because they wanted to spread rumors.
They'd smile sometimes when they see me
but I hated it because I knew it was fake.
My mother got insulted
My values got questioned
My self-respect got judged
That's when I realized that blood knows no boundaries.
I named you experience and your dad named you beautiful things...
I'll tell you the whole story one day
Love
Mommy
WORD OF THE DAY: ETHICS
Science and Engineering have benefitted immensely from PHYSICS
Another major concept that has hastened aeronautics is KINETICS
But science is itself a noble profession with its values and ETHICS
Scientists are neither known for oratory prowess nor PHONETICS
Yet they have produced drugs that are as effective as ANESTHETICS
All these and many more were attained with or without AESTHETICS
© Wole Popoola 2016
What I’d like to give you, is an ounce of my perfume
So you can feel this presence; my presence
Even after I inevitably leave
Profound in my apology to thee
Destined to become absent
From life’s apparent joys
I step aside from your podium
To be alone; to be coy
An illness, I’m told
Of the body, soul and mostly mind
One minute I’m ecstatic
The next, uncontrollably static
Born with it, I was
Control over it, I’ve never had
So when I leave
Make me one promise
To not forget
And never leave
You must bring me home
Until when, my perfume will have to be
Not to be
Miles asunder
Don’t give up on my fleet
Bring me home to thee
*This poem is about those who suffer from Bipolar Disorder and how they are benefitted from a strong support system.
Whoever comes to power
Becomes somewhat dictator
They don’t care about people’s demand
It’s a hard fact in my dear motherland
Most of them make black money
And deposit in foreign banks
But they pretend they are good people
And the greatest think tanks
They disgrace the political rivals
Even if they are blameless
No matter what; they want to remain in power
They are so shameless
When a new political party comes to power
They abandon projects of the previous governments
They change the nameplates of public institutions
They give promotions to their obedient civil servants
They dishonor national heroes
To become heroes themselves
They do more harm than good to the country
They are like some wicked elves
They go for pilgrimage with friends and family
All their costs are met by the poor helpless country
They travel far and wide to walk on red carpet
And see new places
The country is not benefitted from it
In most of the cases
They talk tall like they are doing everything they can
While most of them are nothing but shadows of Satan
Lucky as hell to have a rare great life.
I have to acknowledge it is a life built
on the backs of many living in strife.
People desperate to end, indeed, to halt
their own situations. Generations
of all races, willing and unwilling,
starving and dying, with gold illusions
of a life they might have. It is fitting.
The woman at the dry empty well who
will travel farther, diamond miner dead
from exhaustion, all will contribute to
the ones that come after. It is to be read
that we who have benefitted from their
efforts pay forward willingly our share.
Remember that commercial tool,
that fool Ja Rule.
The miniature 2Pac image imitator,
packaged and bought up but in no way similar.
Was Suge or the Illuminati really behind Pac's murder?
Suge, a dangerous man with many enemies,
while east and west were representing territories.
But Ja was a clone of Pac's identity,
now stop and think....
MURDER INC.
You see off the rival companies,
then you replicate what made them pennies.
It's not that Suge wasn't capable,
it's that someone else had more to gain from it all.
Pac was bigger than the whole of Bad Boy,
even with Biggie Pac was able to destroy.
And what gets put to market knowing it would sell,
Ja Rule and his crew, Murder Inc mocking us and well
hidden by the distraction of the stories and conspiracies
but the east coast killed Pac then benefitted financially.
And it says what it says when he went at 50 Cent,
after all Deathrow artists started a new label to be different.
Aftermath, with Dre and Shady became the main event,
once again the east coast was outdone and unable to prevent
being overshadowed and seen as less relevant.
The Game got signed in a shady way,
they made sure that the market would hear him play,
so I don't think it was Suge or the Illuminati,
when MURDER INC. is a name based on mockery.
Business leaders killed 2Pac,
they did it to be the leader of the pack.
Blessed by God, source of eternal bonus
Bound am I to burst with gratitude bliss
Basking under His light, sublimely bright.
Benefitted midst divine banquet
Breath of mine brings out worship blows
Bestowed well with the Bread of life bountifully.
Beseeching the Saviour for favored blessings
Burdened soul earnestly seeks help in my prayer bouts
Begging to aid me when broken, blinded and bruised.
Beautified with faith that’s Bible-based
Blooming am I in the Saviour, joyously beaming
Braced to serve, reaching-out against selfishness bondage.
Behaving as Christ’s believer
Built am I upon beatitude brand
Bearing His goodness of blessedness.*
“Even as David also describeth the blessedness of the man, unto whom God imputeth righteousness without works.” Romans 4:6 of the King James Bible
Alliteration in Tristich form
January 31, 2023
2nd place, "Writing Challenge - B Word" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France; judged on 2/1/2023.
Endurance Unappreciated, Until Now
Forcefully taken from beloved Africa, and brought to fertile Caribbean soil;
Sold as much less than merchandise; to unwillingly and unendingly toil.
Separated from friends, family and tribe mates and everything known;
To be someone’s property and possession: a thing which is fully owned.
Others benefitted from our enduring strength and our unfailing effort;;
But, they never ever credited, nor appreciated us, for what its’ worth.
On the plantations it was House or Field; even then, we had no choice;
Only given instructions, shouted at, or whipped; we never had a voice.
Stripped of our name, our dignity, our ethnicity and every earthly possession;
Losing everything, and gaining nothing, but our daily, miserly provision.
Others benefitted from our enduring strength and our unfailing effort;;
But, they never ever credited, nor appreciated us, for what its’ worth.
Daily and relentlessly, we strove; unceasingly we were required to work;
Always cooking, cleaning, washing, ironing, planting or turning a fork..
Shedding blood, sweat and many tears; but never once gaining a cheer;
Homesick, physically abused, and, separated from loved ones, so dear.
Others benefitted from our enduring strength and our unfailing effort;;
But, they have never ever credited, nor appreciated us, for what its’ worth.
Through the years; ‘Slavery ended,’ chains broke but, systemic bonds remain;
Our Name, our Dignity and our Ethnicity, we’re still striving to fully regain.
In this 21st century, “justice, equality and impartiality” for us is still a fallacy.
Because, in some people’s minds; “Melanin is still subject to white supremacy.”
Others benefitted from our enduring strength and our unfailing effort;;
But, they have still never credited, nor appreciated us, for what its’ worth.
End
By: Dion Penville
In this unknown world of knowledge hilly,
You came as a Mozart in disguise dolly
To teach all teachers how to teach fully;
Benefitted though sad – not meeting daily.
Daily meeting not possible, gave a pulley
Of google drive and we see, hear our folly.
Giving a chocolate, taking note of us, O Alley.
A corollary we get makes us gorgeous frilly
No obfuscatory with him: sometimes chilly,
Times cold, but a hunky-dory, a true deli.
An accurate hortatory for English holy,
Teaching precise pronunciation alley
To improve us from state utter nugatory.
Encouraging, gave chances to all my folly;
Novel, pioneering, predicatory. Never did dally.
Blessed to have such a trainer as lovely lily
Had been an orator, excellent energetic filly.
Marwadi University is blessed with hilly –
The persons so high, so intelligent, O Molly!
Wish to have such a guide in my life daily
So that saccharin be added to life’s chili
And lethargy, fatigue, lassitude goes dully.
Let it be Surat or Morbi or Rajkot or Delhi
Dhanajay, Viral and Brij sir be with me fully.
The Good Faith
!t was a big ship fully automated, the engineers wore
white overalls and the deck officers, splendid uniforms,
while the ship´s captain sat in his cabin and wrote
leaned thing about navigation. the cook was an exception
he still had to prepare food and worked long hours,
But it must be said he had shiny pots and pans the never burned,
So modernity benefitted him too.
The sip had no anchor it had been lost in a storm and now
They had to do with virtual one few had much faith in,
Circling the oceans endless not being able to find a tranquil bay
Cast anchor and rest. So it happened then the hip had a black out
had no anchor and drifted on to a reef, and there was no life boats
the captain said the sip wasn´t sinking his faith in automatic was
like a religion for him, but the ship sank under the greedy ship,
the crew had more faith in life-jacket and the shore line that looked
beautiful in the afternoon.
Admitted and Committed
Those who fool around and this admitted;
Realized comedy f errors have committed;
Learn how to speak,
Should others seek;
From all efforts to improve you benefitted.
Jim Horn
Dad, Dad why-
Did you have to be that kind of guy?
I only wanted FATHERLY love.
I was such a little girl,
innocent, and so, so shy!
Dad, why THAT kind of a guy?
On the outside, the perfect family man,
Inside-all the secrets, all the lies-
Oh Dad, why THAT kind of guy?
Is that why you had the music
up so high?
So no one would ever
hear me cry?
You were the love of Mom's life,
the two of you so happy together-
So out of love for mom, and some frightening fear,
I kept that secret for 45 years.
I'm so sorry Mom!
I was too frightened to tell!
It was so long ago. I can't remember why-
I cannot remember why...
Now that secret has your heart broken,
and my brother hurt too-
No one has benefitted,
not another word spoken.
My Dad, a good man in many ways,
and I, a little girl who loved him.
I just wanted his love the FATHERLY WAY.
Inside him he can feel flurries of powerful fury
and curiosity that come and go in a hurry,
bringing to life short lived waves of bravery,
then supressed by depression, owner of mental slavery.
Paired with anxiety he's a panic attack liability,
retracted social skills detach him from society,
to get by he hides his mind in shadows of a cave,
waiting and hoping one day they'll come and save.
Scared but angry with past ways that he's behaved,
people in his life benefitted from attention he gave,
time was spent on selfless actions and never returned,
forgotten through distractions, those bridges burned.
People only ever watch out for their own backs,
a selfish key attribute to survival but a fact.
You can't hate people because of how they act,
suddenly there's a light shining out of the black.
This revelation makes timid a little of his frightened,
only he can save himself with a fight to the end,
be brave in life by turning the unsighted bend,
knowing only on himself can he truly depend.
Sometimes all you can do is hide,
sometimes it's the only way to survive,
sometimes feelings rise up inside,
when they do it's time to fight, keep them alive.
At present a blank page starting fresh like a child
trying to climb back up this bottomless spiral,
a need to learn quickly, he's adapted to the wild,
facing a fairytale comeback to be done in style.
But he's been sat in hiding for oh so long,
and he has been getting decisions wrong,
he knows now that he needs to be strong,
there is no time to waste, no time to mong.
He can't change the fact he didn't act sooner,
but he's not prepared to be depressions prisoner,
freedom a distance even for a strong warrior,
get it wrong now and it's a trip to the coroner.
The character is the spirit of enforce
that rises, above all conflicting source.
Through reason, more than bitter after course,
the spirit in its essence, twills remorse.
That anguish in some oneness thee concourse
by thy faith's loyal doneness ~ Holy force.
And that integrity of spoil is common choice,
a staved revere, as in a total voice.
Thy heart, thy nations's coil, does wind endorse
that benefitted summing still consorts
to some agreements fail, to so resort
survival, as a modem ~ not export.
Do pray that waste's affliction not exhort
to sameness ~ as to betterment could court
a newer way, an individual sort
that heightens to its doing, not deport.
Some saving of the will, not future tort
that acclimates consent, but not report.
A freer sense of self, a saving's port,
that recognizing's wealth, its owning fort ~
Identifies with God, and not fame's dwarf!