Best Berated Poems
Valentine’s Day we have never ever celebrated...
It’s our personal choice - we shouldn’t be berated
One Valentine’s day I proposed to you
Two year’s later we married and said ‘I do’
No chocolates, roses or cards on Valentine’s Day
There are many other days on which we both say
I LOVE YOU
Contest:-Valentine Poem for my beloved
Sponsor Nayda Ivette Negron
13th February 2016
Eyes of an Eagle
If I had the eyes of an eagle,
And the strength of wings to
fly,
I'd put a camera on my proud
chest,
And off to DC, I would fly.
My fuel is my rage against
all out to destroy this great nation,
With breaking news, hideous
lies and false allegations...
America!! Berated daily in
international publications!
Against all God believing men and women,
Using that meaningless term,
"Conversation", as some universal justification.
It's a word to validate all things unethical.
Like infanticide, simply twisted, to mean....
"Oh, it's just medical."
A murdered child's warm blood splashing~
on the icy cold, gleaming marble floor.
Her tiny fists clenched in rage as Mommy
walks out the butcher's door!
I cry, "no more, no more!"
Panagiota Romios
2/28//2019
I’m sorry I should be berated
My trusty pen’s been constipated
But poetry Jan
Just sat on the can...
Great relief, it’s to be celebrated!
Been very busy recently and had a break away for a few days but also I've suffered from writer's block - I'm back now and hopefully the poop will flow again (from my pen I mean)and I will be more active on the site
9/18/18
Little jellyfish was jealous of the fish and the coral
Especially the sea horse ridden by mermaid Laurel
She was by far the prettiest siren in the blue sea
He dared not touch her, but he loved her truly.
His mama berated him in an ocean whirl.
So he turned his mind to her sister, the lovely siren Pearl.
Pearl loved starfish but starfish was grumpy and old.
Jellyfish might ask her out, this mermaid, hair of gold.
Snail friend stopped him, pointing out loud and sharp.
Beautiful music Mermaid Shay played on her pretty harp.
Shay is the one to date, and she is close at hand.
We can use her talents in our ocean friendly band!
None ended up with the mermaids that fateful cool day.
For the sirens moved on that night to a place far far away.
Jellyfish pouted the rest of his sea worthy salty life.
He never married or played again, and took no one for wife.
Unreason
- by Bob Atkinson
"... ode to those
who teach creative
writing at the
college level,
yet have not the
talent nor
understanding
required
to produce something
worthwhile ..."
to listen graciously
then turn away
feeling for the
first time
wonder at his
sayings
carries burdens
newly minted
for my life on lumpy
pavement
simply put this
wreck of words
drives not my lucid
statements
in fear of simple
castings made
those so hard to
correctly gage
find difficulty in
believing
what should or
shouldn't stand
feed me what to this
date
has not been allowed
percolation
to equate justice
circumcised
against wispy
thoughts berated
metaphors mixed
until complete
that nonsense we all
believe in
can only drive us
deeply down
a path toward firm
unreason
I once wrote a poem about pooh
Pooh’s a normal thing we ALL do
I'm now constipated
For I got berated
Guess what - now I'm stuck on the loo!
N.B I will NOT take criticism of my work sitting down!
lol
5th June 2015
My Fido was booked into the vets
To remove his ‘love making’ assets
He was due for an op
Where his ‘bits’ got the chop
No puppies; I’d have no regrets
We arrived near the vet’s surgery
Fido yelped that he needed to wee
He heard another dog bark
Then scampered off to the park
And escaped so far away from me
To cut a long story quite short
Young Fido he could not be caught
It can’t be discounted
That doggy he mounted
I’ll admit I was very distraught!
When Fido responded to heel
His fate at the vets I did seal
He’s quickly sedated
(Poor actions berated)
His stitches will dissolve and heal!
When musing, I shouldn’t get mad
His doggy behaviour was bad
Though Fido was ‘dog gone’
His line continues on
Six puppies, look just like their dad!
Dandelions Tiger Lilies and Bearberries Oh My
Sponsored by Maureen McGreavy
5/7/18
I will talk with you of precious things,
The sunsets' hue and birds that sing,
What children did and adults do,
And teaching babes to tie their shoe.
That time is worth much more than gold,
And greater still - someone to hold.
Health is not so over-rated,
Biggest regrets? O'er those I've berated.
To spend an hour with my niece
Is like another puzzle piece,
The real measure of a man
May be in how he takes a hand.
How dawn and dusk partner their color
And share that with an ardent lover.
That tiny bloom so trodden on
Could still bear seed, even looking wan.
A child dancing with Elmo and chasing the dog
Is better than coffee at cutting through fog,
Anticipation's not better than the event,
And moments together are time best spent.
I've learned I'm not completely whole,
That television can't fill my soul,
And what I've been and what I've done
Have been negated by the Son.
Since July the elves and reindeer, even Mrs. Claus have been on Santa's back!
(Al Gore's prediction of meltin' snow nearly caused him to have a panic attack!)
It seems that try as he might, Santa encountered problems at every turn.
He's becomin' somewhat burned out and reachin' that point of no return!
Mrs. Claus berated him day and night for workin' just one day a year,
Insistin' that he get a decent job, get off welfare and off his fleshy rear!
She'd like to spend winters in Bermuda, the Bahamas or Kiribati,
But noooo, he goes gallivantin' all over from Argentina to Zimbabwe!
Don't know what's got into the reindeer but they're feelin' mighty morose;
Perhaps because of all the fame showered on the one with the shiny nose!
They've moped about, eatin' like army mules gettin' fat and slouchy.
The cantankerous beasts have made Santa terribly tense and grouchy!
Those good for nothin' elves went on strike causin' a slow down in work.
They're tryin' to form a toy makers union causin' Santa to go berserk!
Such sloppy work! Talkin' dollies counted cadence, "Hup, two, three, four!"
The toy soldiers cried, "I want my mama!" as they marched off to war!
Despite problems at The Pole he'll trim his beard and don his crimson suit.
He'll "Ho, Ho", eat dozens of stale cookies and be dusted with tons of soot,
As once again he'll mysteriously soar through space with the reindeer towin',
Delightin' boys and girls around the world with the toys he'll be bestowin'!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
(With apologies to Edgar Allen Poe )
Finding myself so berated,
I muttered something syncopated,
as seething and with burning eyes stormed I forth as on a secret chore. Returning answered well his gall
for I, with no remorse at all,
blew his feathered carcase through the wall.
A wet flannel cleared the gore.
"That's my trusty Purdey shotgun loaded with lead shot - twelve bore."
This I said, and nothing more.
Now when friends, in admiration,
comment on my ventilation
which dost somewhat harshly pierce the wall above that door,
I gift the inspiration deemed
to one whom talked less than he preened -
to one whom since has not been seen,
save in down upon the floor.
"Visitor," I exclaim, smirking – “blast from the past, quite a bore!"
This I say and nothing more.
Gardens, houses, metaled roads, no tractor and mower
Speed limit grows in reverse, bigger and slower
Brick and concrete slowness teks ower
Sixty, forty, to thirty, where does it stop ?
Down to twenty wi’ houses on top
The infrastructure is little
Planners and government fickle
Greenbelt is pointless and brittle
Farmers berated for removing hedges and trees
Yet with urban spread, it’s the accepted disease
Tyres, bottles, wire, bricks and stone can’t be mown
Poisonous garden waste and domestic rubbish thrown
Working farms overwhelmed, engulfed and surrounded
Unworkable as animals are regularly hounded
Mechanical and vet bills compounded
Abilities and patience are seriously tested
However much time money and effort invested
rubbish knackers machines and kills animals when ingested
It matters not how well the farm is managed
Gates left open, animals and boundaries continually damaged
Old farmhouses swallowed up, all out of place
Invaded by alien architecture, right in their face
Greenfield sites with scant protections
Built-up outline grows more projections
New estates in all directions
Exponential town growth,
Ribbon development, conurbation sloth
gradual creep, sudden crawl
Houses and industrial units, landscape awl
Removes the countryside whole, urban sprawl…
I danced around the circle how graceless i am
The tones i used to sing was no longer mine
Food id like to eat turned bitter in time
I looked at the mirror the face is not mine
How cruel the world so clueless no sign
Pieces by pieces will i ever redesign
I feign day by day that everything is fine
Love i once held was now undefined
The tramp, loafer, bummer all in one
Whatever you call the name is one sound
Pond of lust and laughter and fun
You may win the game but your cloud has no sun
My eyes are bleeding in pain and on fire
Indomitable anger so hard to respire
Look at me now how you made me desire
Exhausted, berated, Please condole by my side
You gave us free will
But why nuclear devices?
Do you play games with our lives?
A score of one million to nil!!
Man we're up the creak
And we're not collecting spices
The media's killed the flavour
And here come the chopping knives.
What is our potential for the near future?
No one seems to care, is our time nearly up?
I don't think you have the bottle to be so abrupt!
Many of your representatives appear all too corrupt,
While you what, check up on our graces?
Why are we so dumb and ignorant and hung up on races?
Killing for oil and territorial spaces, while we're hypnotised
By what, white teeth on their evil smiling faces?
Do you take pride in what you have created?
We’re so grateful; your teachings are sidelined,
While the horned goat is consecrated,
They have young children idly worshiping the antithesis of 999,
So my one real question to you, my source...
Do you not feel that the evil must be purged...berated
Back into chaos, obscurity
Expelled by the light of divinity
A place for creativity to flourish, our children to be nourished?
Because into oblivion I sink...I see no serenity.
To Melbourne town he took the ship, the man from Marrawah,
to take in all the city sights, he'd never seen before.
Disembarking from the boat, he began to wander around.
Inquiring from a passerby what number tram, to take him into town.
While standing in the rolling stock, an inspector came through the door,
his eyes were drawn directly to, the man from Marrawah.
"Did you validate your ticket when you got on the tram"?
"I don't know what you mean, I tried to buy one from the man".
The inspector sternly looked at him and called out to his mate,
"This fellow has no Myki card, or one that is out of date".
"You should have got a valid ticket, now the fine will cost you more.
The inspector grinned and stared right through the man from Marrawah.
"I'll buy a ticket from you now if I could get a break".
"Too late my friend, now shoosh, I have a fine to make".
A fire began within his guts, the injustice of it all.
"I'll not pay a fine, now put up your dukes and prepare to brawl".
The two inspectors looked at him, their fear began to rise,
Then both rushed at him, "Prepare for your demise".
The first inspector was turned upside down, his head mopping the floor,
He had underestimated the agility of the man from Marrawah.
The second inspector took his leave, fearing he'd be severely bashed.
Grabbed his radio and ticket book and out of the tram he dashed.
The tram continued on its way, frightened passengers all on board.
But soon a force of Police arrived, the commuters thanked the Lord.
The man from Marrawah was musing, in his gaol cell.
"I should have grabbed the other one and bashed his crown as well".
The Magistrate berated him, a substantial fine dished out.
"Don't come to our state, our laws to blindly flout".
Now back at home on the farm, his story never told.
If any asked about his trip he just said it was cold.
He vowed he would never leave again, He'd travel never more.
Just stop right here in this little town, safe in Marrawah.
They were hated, berated, and degraded They were demoted, denied, and deprived
They were traded like livestock and treated worst than animals They were a people detained, renamed, and reduced to property
They were displaced, disgraced, disrespected, and disenfranchised They were captured, chained, and maimed; battered, beaten, and bruised
If we were one of them, how would we feel? How would we deal?
How would we heal? How would we then live?
I am saddened by their slavery, but I am inspired by their bravery. When I pause, I discover the magic of a mystery.
I clearly see virtues hidden in their tragic history. I am touched when I sense a 'virtue in their vision'.
They knew that, even if erased without a trace, they had a past. They experienced sorrow but managed the madness of their present.
Me think that their "Tomorrow in the distance" launched their untouchable souls. Though bowed and broken, they visualized tomorrow and paid the
painful toll. Me think that they saw a vision of me in the distant future living happy and free. Me think that they decried the mirrors that painted their
darkened spirit and defied the demons of misery. How else could they have survived their dehumanized plight and thrived as enslaved human beings?
Written061807; Condensed and posted to PS 02262018
Black History Month 2018