Best Berates Poems
The DJ shuts the fader by mistake,
yet speaks his words in slick and practised tones,
but doesn’t hear them coming through his ’phones,
berates himself: That’s quite a gaffe to make.
That’s five whole seconds, nothing but dead air.
I’ve dropped a clanger. This is just not done!
The programme’s live, it’s not a trial run.
The punters might retune and go elsewhere.
But more important is that what we give
distracts, amuses, offers light, bright, trite.
Dead air is not an option. Get it right!
They need our pap: it tells them how to live.
Although this little lapse is but a blink,
it might just give the punters time to think.
Categories:
berates, satire,
Form:
Sonnet
Lord, I need your help tonight
I’m alone and I’m afraid
I’ve made some mistakes
And the pain in my heart berates
Lord, I need your help tonight
I’m lost among unhappy thoughts
I’ve been left in a place of hurt
Where I don’t know how to behold
Lord, I need your help tonight
I’m going through some storms
The rain keeps pounding down on me
And the thunder blasts my serenity
Lord, I need your help tonight
I’m feeling uncertain in so many ways
Did I make the right choices and decisions?
Was I wrong to love someone so unconditionally?
Lord, I need your help tonight
I’m giving my heart to your hands
Please take it and accept it in your warmth
With another attempt at being who You would have
Lord, I need your help tonight
I’m reaching out for your sincere compassion
The assurance that I always will have You
Despite my worst ways of self deception
Lord, I need your help tonight
With all the grief and sorrow I’ve known
I want to give my best to You Lord
And never let You go without my heart
Lord, I need your help tonight
Where I’m going is still not known
I’m honestly praying “Thy Will be done”
Even though I may not want the answers!!
Categories:
berates, blessing, christian, faith, god,
Form:
Free verse
False promises and bold faced lies
From leaders we call men,
Too foolish, vain and unwise
It’s the election blues again.
Feign to believe the web they weave
With patient ears we listen,
Future balanced if they achieve
From deceitful eyes teeth glisten.
In principle, fate is our blame
Yet in our selfish pride,
Our judgment shadows woeful shame
Behind scapegoats fail to hide.
Ballot fiends they all may be
Watching poll numbers, plus or minus three,
What will their victory bring to me
After January twenty-three.
Subsidized youth sports, gun control
Child care dollars galore,
A policy a day, and truth be told
Campaign gifts are a chore.
What matters East-West-South ‘n North
Is that we get it right,
While opponents bicker back and forth
By cable, bus or flight.
Success depends on unity
Without it we’re a wreck,
While one side suffers mutiny
The Grits give Tories heck.
The separatist Bloc` says “Let us go”
Demanding sovereign freedom,
White margarine and one-tongued-signs
Does Canada really need them.
The answer is, quite simply, oui`
We cannot tear apart,
Instead, honor all with dignity
And make a brand new start.
While men debate with pointed fingers
On issues big or small,
Our neighbor’s fear of terror lingers
With plans to build a wall.
Five billion they shall not relinquish
While bring East to peace,
Infernal war fires ne’r extinguish
Diplomacy for lease.
Denying partnership in war
To Iraq we didn’t go,
And up in space where eagles soar
Again we said “Oh no”.
Canada is not the States
Their future is not ours,
While Bush comments on us, berates
His future quickly sours.
When we look back upon these days
In golden years of life,
Will mirrored lakes obscure with haze
Too thick for sharpened knife.
Or does the future hold great treasure
For Canadians, one and all,
With strength and courage beyond measure
Winter, Spring, Summer and Fall.
Like years before, each voter chooses
With hopes and dreams of change and glory,
But in the end there’s winners and losers
Different writer, same old story.
Scott Goldsberry
December 30, 2005
Categories:
berates, history, peace, social, future,
Form:
Free verse
The cat glides soft on feet of stealth.
His plush dark coat contains his wealth.
Purring here and rubbing there,
Adds insult to the dog’s despair.
Cat circles, turns, then rubs with chin,
Much to the small white dog’s chagrin.
Claims master's feet and next his chair,
And last the dog whose lying there.
A growl and then quick flash of jaw;
"Enough of this," dog snarls, "No more!”
"If master were not here indeed;
That lovely skin and coat might bleed.”
Then master, jarred from out his nap,
Berates the dog and strokes the cat.
Till slowly all calms down and then,
Stealth cat begins to glide again.
He bares no grudge for dog’s rude snarl.
He rubs and purrs and all the while;
This tale will soon play out again,
As cat lays claim to dog and man.
Categories:
berates, angst, animal, cat, dog,
Form:
Rhyme
Man and wife are at opposite ends of the scale
When it comes agreeing on what's important in life, we fail
Obsessed with crumbs on the counter
Berates him till into a battle they flounder
Life's too short to worry about crumbs for peace to prevail
Categories:
berates, marriage,
Form:
Limerick
What kind of sadistic delirium dwells in an
obtuse parent whose child emulates their
behavior in showing it is okay to bully other
children whose only egregious fault is shyness?
Bullied and tormented and teased to tears,
emotional scars that will last for years in
self flagellating inferiority and a sense of
worthlessness a delicate child withholds.
Indigent children may be bullied to the point
of contemplating suicide. Or worse yet become
a bully themselves. To consecrate such actions
of their child, who so berates another, makes the
parent even more responsible than their child.
Principals who mediate are in a quandary of
showing impartiality yet fairness, awakening
every sense to protect the bullied child.
Insightful teachers are becoming more aware
as they try to teach these bullies to have respect.
I've seen that child who cries, but fears to tell.
8-29-19
Eight word challenge 9 Poetry Contest 1. OBTUSE 2.INDIGENT 3.EGREGIOUS 4. DELIRIUM 5.DELICATE 6. CONSECRATE 7.MEDIATE 8. AWAKENING
Eight word challenge 9 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: John Hamilton
Categories:
berates, anxiety, bullying, kid,
Form:
Free verse
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
Categories:
berates, anger, dark, fear,
Form:
Free verse
The president extols his bravery,
praises his performance.
The media berates his mission,
questions his integrity.
His wife waits and hopes,
sends photos of the children.
Musicians write his story;
his mother prays for safety.
He dons fighting gear,
second nature to him now,
pushes away thoughts of home,
concentrates, focuses
on the present hour.
He's just doing his job,
defending the cause,
fighting for freedom.
Categories:
berates, america, freedom, soldier, war,
Form:
Free verse
ultimate betrayal
in the eyes of a bairn
fresh from the hands
of the creator
there is only wonder
at all it sees!
curiosity
at the discoveries
of fingers then toes
and as it grows
a world spreads out before
full of questions
its sustenance seems
the very air of mystery
that we have forgotten
or can no longer see
where then, comes the fear
the hatred that berates innocence
causes it to flee
from ridicule and conformity
once precious now fool.
a war veteran,
who’d lost his legs in battle
threw teacups, paperweights and whatnot
at people in his home
the child did the same
he learned what he lived.
children are empty vessels
we fill them with our lives
loves, hates, they learn from us
why berate the innocent?
whither is fled the sense of wonder?
In collaboration with Ram R. V.
Categories:
berates, betrayal, childhood, children, teacher,
Form:
Free verse
Tightrope
There's tension
As the crowd below
Looks up aghast
Before the show
A gentle breeze
Like fingers strum
On string of fate
A vibrant hum
At last, the feet
Of mortal man
Berates the gods
Like no-one can
A step, a wave
The journey starts
So high, so far
While mouths hold hearts
And hands clutch eyes
Who dares to speak?
While children squeal
Through fingers peek
So high above
What does he feel
Immune to fear
Or hurts to heal?
We sometimes risk
More than it's worth
On tricky path
Above the earth
And danger calls
Us like a drug
To medicate
The loveless shrug
We fix our eyes
On what we know
While gasping friends
Recoil below
As risk allures
We rest on grace
To see us through
To love's embrace
Yes, hearts can change
When life's a test.
Enlarged. In hopeful
Outcomes rest
So, of our man?
He made it through
To loud applause
For feet so true
The greatest challenge
We yet may find..
To walk the tightrope
Of the mind
Jinjagoliath
16th May 2023
Categories:
berates, desire, destiny, endurance, humanity,
Form:
Rhyme
The fat man at the end of the long table
Speaks and we know he is not very able
All the time playing with his paper
We ask what will be his next caper
Speaks to the chairman in a stinging way
Changes his mind like trees that sway
Championed you can do what you like
Advises management to take a hike
Ntate member claims he is not a gentleman
Those colonial titles he is not a fan
Berates a colleague for addressing him so
Then anger and ire begin to flow
You, he warns, need to mind your mouth
Or I will go over and give you a clout
I am known as the college bully
And I intend to live up to my name fully
The vicious man will sooner or later explode
Hatred and resentment are his heavy load
You, call me member or not at all
I see the fat member riding for a fall
Categories:
berates, confusion, happiness, inspirational,
Form:
Free verse
Delusion is living blind,
Unseeing reality.
It weaves a web to find
It own disparity.
Content not to face
Real factors that exist,
Delusion will always
Deny Reason, resist.
Delusion seeks to negate
Life's meaning, human values-
All we honor it berates,
In truth, it has no use.
Wisdom, hope, and courage-
These are real things.
But in Delusion's page
Are reduced to nothing.
Deluded minds can't grasp
What makes this life worth living.
It lives on wearing a mask,
Resisting logic, decaying.
Cynthia Buhain-Baello~~~04.21.15
*Delusion --a fixed false belief that is resistant
to reason or confrontation with actual fact:
(www.dictionary.com)
Categories:
berates, conflict, confusion,
Form:
Didactic
The master of the living room
‘Cause I’ve got the clicker
My children, to my tastes shall groom
‘Cause I’ve got the clicker
They storm around, they scream and shout
They act as if they’re al put out
They whine and moan, complain and pout
‘Cause I’ve got the clicker
Procedurals, I won’t partake
‘Cause I’ve got the clicker
Network news lies and berates
But I’ve got the clicker
Adventure tales, I am a fan
Better sit-coms, I can stand
But mostly I steam on broadband
When I have the clicker
Reality, thy grind at me
So I grab the clicker
A stress release, so great the need
So I grab the clicker
To reset faith with simple tales
To restore peace amidst travails
I rarely feel so week or frail
When I’ve got the clicker.
Categories:
berates, culture, dad, fun, funny,
Form:
Rhyme
Standing silent, alone, without a friend,
vigilant in the face of wind and rain.
A scarecrow trickster is playing pretend,
in his hand-me-down clothes: ragged and plain.
The whispers of the crop
berates silence, nonstop:
and yet, he doesn't eavesdrop.
The birds all shoo
on cue; 'cause he's
steadfast and true!
And although he faces a chilling end,
he hangs there, unabashed; without a brain,
amidst the rows of corn as a backdrop:
disguised as you.
Categories:
berates, 8th grade, feelings, garden,
Form:
Rhyme
Blue dreams filtered through blood soaked eyes.
Dreams that swept by with tornado speed
creating a vacuum that pulls my very being
awake to face another day. i`m thirsty.
My skin crawls with a thousand chills from
the cheap wine from the night before
when everything was grand in a way.
When the world became etherial.
The thickness of my smell berates my nostrils
as i open up one eye to inspect the damage
to my battle weary body and to see if
my spirit has any spark left to move.
Move i must to get what i need to
get well again, perhaps the dope man
won't come around today, then what?
Must not think of such horrible things.
There. I`m up on all fours like a *****
dog waiting to be mounted by whatever
intrusion comes along; some days i don`t
know if im pitching or catching.
I`m standing leaning against
my trusty cart that i push down the
cement yellow brick road where
at the end there is no wizard.
i merge onto the byway of people
seeking the elusive neccesity of life.
Winds of memory encompass me
as i was them and they were me.
i hug the wall flying under their radar
not wanting or needing their stares and
admonishments of "Hey look, a lost one!".
i slither down/the avenue if used to be.
Another morning in the life of me.
A destitute from a scarring life
of nothing worthwhile.
Another damnable morning.
Categories:
berates, addiction, character, dark, missing,
Form:
Free verse