Best Bidder Poems
Too little
too late
God said to me
in this dream I had about fate
So I asked him
what did he expect,
A goody two shoes
a prophet
a saint
to be something I ain’t
Not at all he said
I want to be entertained
Eternity is boring
mostly people snoring
especially at night
and during the day on occasion
Look god! I walk around an
Amazon warehouse all day
pigeon-holing tat
picking this and that
How am I supposed to amuse you
Well I do enjoy you
breaking stuff on purpose
sabotaging the line
Bunking off for a smoke
going to the toilet
and drinking erm… doing coke
Ok hands up!
I admit
I’m a total chancer
and do stuff I shouldn’t
But it’s alright isn’t it
that Amazon place is full of s-hit
Yes it is a terrible kip
but more fun when you entertain
Like in your last job
listening to you lie
not taking the blame
asking me to help out
In your moment of doubt
All that stuff you stole
and barely got away with
on the whole
That was quite funny!
Oh the (paper and plastic) I gathered,
before selling it to the highest bidder
Throwing expensive stock out in the trash
The owner was a bastard
all things considered
a miserly swine
But nevermind
Thanks!
I did need a dig out that time
Hey! remember when I was aged about 7
and was told my pal went to heaven
Why did it happen
A year later walking to school with another kid
he was only 8
And that nut-job attacked us with a hammer
Put a hole in my friends head
The blood pumped in fountains of red
I thought he was dead
All the gore I’ve seen
witnessed a killing at 18
Trying to hold down an abattoir job in between
Yes! Life ain’t pretty by design
sometimes the stars just won’t align
Others times they go nova
and leave black holes behind
still you’ll never really understand
The powers in command
So how about this poem
Will it see me home
Does it amuse you
are we cool?
You’re still alive aren’t you!
By
David Kavanagh
RACISM, A DISASTROUS ELEMENT
I look at the world horrifically,
With depression and disgust,
As the masses enjoys in poverty
And fear.
I look at the world horrifically.
Every places, full of stratification,
And unlawful massacre of people.
Hmmm! What a cruel universe!
I look at the world horrifically.
Yesterday, raping and killing,
Today, racism,
Tomorrow, i guess something deadly and disastrous.
I look at the world horrifically.
Segregation among the whites,
Segregation among the blacks.
Weirdest part, segregation between the black and the whites.
I look at the world horrifically,
Stratification among the blacks, i called "tribalism ".
Hatred, i called among the whites.
Disunity rules.
I look at the world horrifically,
As our ancestors in great slumber.
With no hope of fortune.
Crying, segregation of the highest bidder.
Alimi Abdulkabir's Poetry
03/06/2020
When fate pulls at my haiku of heartstrings,
I curse the syllables of my poetic musings.
If I do not express my sorrows,
how will petals blossom in my garden?
Upon the midst of bewilderment,
lost without a bosom for a sanctuary.
Life can cause confusion;
seem somewhat an illusion;
when the mind only sees disillusion.
Upon the depths of despair;
placed upon the ledge of melancholy -
legs dangle, eyes stare into random space.
Absent thoughts have no demand,
yet the soul is insistent,
but, all that is seen is darkness;
charcoal horizons with no guiding stars,
with the moon obscured by dull smoke,
jaded eyes simply wonder why.
What has become of me?
I despise the voices controlling my head.
I'm afraid of the images they've created.
Who will save me from this ludicrous lucidity.
Can anyone prevent vicious vines from suffocating me?
Vertigo seduces the mind,
influencing it to leap - but it has no faith.
Below lies an endless void,
a collection of human delusions;
an abyss of crushed expectations.
Heaven's broken arrows rain down,
blood dripping with fragments of broken dreams.
A reminder of another false pledge -
the final episode of a heart's connection.
Flames of hell prepare to scorch me.
Sometimes growth is like a stream,
that has lost itself in an ocean.
No identity, misplaced and alienated,
so it dies a slow death.
A sigh can only become deceased,
when a heart does not beat.
So, why do so many die
when the water of existence is in your hands?
In the marketplace of life,
each merchant will give you a different price.
Some will try to sell you dreams,
others, goods on false pretences.
Be careful, not to give all your emotions
away to the first bidder;
life is an auction -
don't let the auctioneer play with your heart.
Sometimes love is an unpredictable enigma.
I'm tired of living around gambolling gambits,
who's games condemn a soul to suicide.
But, little do they know,
I am a master of self deprecating.
The greatest of all pretenders,
suffering from a poison mistake
that lives with me forever.
Getting lost in the wake of a beauty so exotic
Warm balmy night promises speak from her beckoning eyes
Ensnaring themselves in a web of sultry desire
As heady perfume of white jasmine permeates night skies
Playing the leading lady the Oscar is always hers
Perfect crimson lips set in porcelain skin perfection
Hypnotic blue eyes seduce bringing them down to their knees
Mere shadows of themselves left in its luminous reflection
Entrapped by shadows - A lady of chastity she is not
Embracing dusk welcomes her in it's ever watchful sight
She the mysterious mistress that women love to hate
Forbidden fruit for their men - She is the Lady of the Night
The highest bidder always wins her - she cares not who
Seductive and sultry or sweetly naïve and innocent
She plays the game well - whatever the gentleman fancies
To gifts of extravagance offered - she is indifferent
But when the games are done and she's alone in her chambers
For the one who stole her heart she sends out a lonely cry
Even though she has everything money can possibly buy
Her love is not for sale
It belongs only to the one who took it away
And bid her goodbye
Music Video - Memoirs of a Geisha - Sayuri's Theme FULL
'The Memoirs of a Geisha' Official Soundtrack featured Yo Yo Ma performing the cello solos, as well as Itzhak Perlman performing the violin solos. The music was composed and conducted by John Williams. Published on Nov 22, 2009
.
U-umph, Oof-fa ha!.... There, comfy now?
Hey, would you pick up your tush,
reach in here and pick up your wife's locket?
It's down here under my cush,
and please get that screw driver outa your pocket?
That's good for me, yes much better.
Is it good for you too?
Yes, now go ahead and read your letter.
Hey, you remember when you and your wife,
saved me at that Auction in Aspen?
Talk about stress and strife !
I sure was a mess back then.
One last chance,
and I was headed for the rubbish bin.
The Auctioneer grabbed my arm,
And hollered out, "who'll bid it at a sixty?"
I remember being on stage watching you,
then it was "fifty five or bidit ata fifty -now fifty",
You didn't bid ; ..I thought I was through.
No one interested and he was droppin' fast!
"Biddit ata fortyforty thirtyfi-five bidit atta thirty two!"
"Bidda wudda gimme good chair, just alil bit dirty"
I was so nervous ; you just stared at your shoe!
"Lookin big bidder cudda cudda bidder thirty!"
Biddit abub bidja bidja bud, gimme gimme bouta fifteen on "er
well right then I Frayed My Hem! And thought I was a Goner!
"Wudja wudja cudda cudja gimme gimme biddit at about ten?"
That's when you looked up high and I saw the gleam in your eye.
I shifted my skirting, straightened my back and looked real bold,
You caught his eye, nodded your head and he hollered "SOLD!"
Well I rocked back easy and you went in to pay the man,
loaded me up and brought me home in your old van.
Y'all cleaned me up and gave me a nice shampoo,
and set me just so in your cozy library den.
You know..I'm really comfortable with you two.
I Have been since that auction in Aspen.
Hey! You dropped some popcorn in my... Oh ..never mind..,
Ahh..the memories..it's all good..it's all just FINE.
'
There’s a tale that I must tell
Of a heart that I knew quite well.
This heart dwelled within her chest
And had given its very best.
Love and compassion had filled this heart
But it was taken advantage of from the start.
This love and compassion was given
Freely to children in pain
But to the adoption agencies
It was just a game.
“ sell the child to the highest bidder”
You work for us - we have no quitters !
Take them for all the money that you can
This is part of the company plan.
And promise them what you must
For in us they put their trust.
If they want a particular type of child
Then they will have to wait a while.
We can give them what they want
If the price is right.
But it will not be overnight.
If they just want a child , and there
Is no preference to how it must be.
We will fill the contract gladly.
We have black children, white children
Oriental too.
We’ll do what we must - to satisfy you.
Now her heart was overflowing
And she knew where she was going.
She went to the D C S where her
case she would rest.
The Department of Children s Services was
Already building a case, because
Of so many civilian complaints.
Now with the case pending
Where to place them, the judge was rendering.
“ I will take them if I can, for I have more
Than enough land.
I have a ranch with more than enough rooms
Give them to me it’s not too soon.
Do a background check, which I know you must
For in the system I put my trust.
One month later, they was living under their roof
For the courts had gotten the proof.
She raised the children like her own
And to the courts it was shown.
Now she can share her heart, and the children
Can have a brand new start.
LOVE AND COMPASSION RULE !
Written: November 24, 2024, for Contest: Sponsored by: Sigrid Ermine
____________________________
Shadows dance as dreams collide,
The gavel falls, in a thunderous stride.
Dollars rise like autumn leaves,
A trembling hand, a heart that believes.
The top bidder passionately claims,
A trophy of acquire, a fleeting name.
Yet beyond a glimmer of a polished facade,
Lurk complexities that prick and prod.
Is the bargain lovely like spring's first bloom?
Do they hide in a coming doom?
In the excitement of the chase.
Was the value eclipsed by rush of race?
A rollercoaster ride, every surge a delight,
Yet plummet shadows dwell just out of sight.
What glittering promise, what gilded allure,
When contracts are inked, are they truly secure?
The shatter of dreams, like glass in a quake,
Can haunt a soul, the tether will break,
Calamity waits in the wings of the grand,
As fortune's fingers weave destinies unplanned.
In the depths of the deal, in the fine print, they sigh,
“What if the status was merely a lie?”
For the highest bidder, consumed by ambition,
Forgot, in their haste, the weight of tradition.
For while fortune may smile, fortune may jest,
Securing the prize can unearth the unrest.
In the fervent pursuit, in pursuit of the gleam,
Sometimes the hardest lesson is naught as it seems.
So here lies the message, the heart that should stir,
The value of life cannot simply confer,
We chase after treasures, the swift and the bright,
Yet lose track of the joys that dance in plain sight.
Consider the shadows, the whispers, the cost,
The moments unclaimed are too precious, not lost.
For the highest bidder, in glitz and glamour,
May find the simplest joys are the truest treasures.
Life in Africa was full; years in the bush, a treat.
Music made us happy; drums sounded for dancing feet.
A loving life with family always made us smile.
Living together freely, we never knew defeat.
Greedy slave hunters sailed down the Nile.
Chained us below with feces and bile,
Our curiosity was a big mistake!
We lived like that for a long bad while.
Sold to the highest bidder at the market by the dock,
Herded off to cotton fields, we became their livestock.
Forced to do hard labor; whipped until bare backs bled.
Rest would never come as time ticked on the clock.
The life of a slave was hard work; at least we were fed.
Some rested in cottages, others in a shed.
Scorching sun, sweat, blood, the whip did not feel good.
Calling a white man, “Master”, a slave’s daily dread.
Even in the best conditions, the human spirit was not free.
Mistreated; folks who could not take it were shot trying to flee.
A man could dream of Africa and his family all day.
Divided and sold into slavery a painful loss to see.
The Underground Railroad helped slaves run away.
Their owners and hounds tried to catch each stray.
Some of the lucky ones were never found.
Those who were caught for their lives had to pray.
Lincoln tried to free all slaves; the Klu Klux Klan still frowned.
John Wilkes Booth picked up his gun and shot the President down.
Slaves were free per history, but it was not as expected.
For even after the Civil War, burning and lynching did abound.
About one hundred years later, the issue was resurrected.
Rosa Parks stood up for her rights; NAACP directed.
The Civil Rights Movement brought freedom at last.
President Kennedy addressed the nation; equality enacted.
now that Chavez is dead,
the american oil companies
chomping at the bit
begin to salivate & lick their lips,
seething
with the foam
of potent country-gutting
rabies---
for while he was alive,
Venezuela was one of the only
countries left,
who resisted the empire’s attempts to
penetrate it & whore it out to the
highest capitalist bidder---
with Chavez dead,
not only will the oil soon be drained from
within the borders of beautiful
Venezuela,
but so will die the social programs that Chavez
instilled,
those that had been used to combat the
extreme poverty which exists in the country,
those that the governments before Chavez did nothing to
prevent.
so goes Chavez,
so goes a bastion of anti-empire,
so goes a man who pushed Chomsky’s work at the
United Nations,
so goes a man who championed the bloc that
would resist the swallowing up of
Latin America by the
empire.
yes,
the vultures are hungry,
they are perched & ready---
rather than create green alternatives to the
reliance on oil,
they will suck every last drop &
make the world do their bidding,
creating a negative media firestorm
to shed hate upon a man who can no longer
defend himself,
just as they will the next who steps up to resist.
Brains:
Many secrets held in
caverns
energy in the
literal folds
do not sell your
mind
to the highest
bidder
there is something
new
under the sun
Be brave -save
our
planet
Don't sell to the
highest bidder
never be a quitter
or a sitter,
move!, use the power
in your
ability to think-
eat brain-food
and brain- storm.
Don't sell to the
highest bidder
Set your aptitude
meter up high
align your self with
what we are equipped
to do! Sane people
needed to save our
planet dammit!
The mighty Gate is
only a
man.
Let us think!
there is something
new
to do, Under the
sun.
even waste has it's
place
every thing is
viable
we will be held
liable.
Don't sell to the
highest bidder.
nor be a quitter,
nor a sitter.
Do what's best with
our minds.
Brains unused will
prove
to be our downfall
what good is it to
know the score
answer trivia
fight in Bolivia-or
Libya
But cannot think our
way out
this man-made mess.
We have the brains I
Confess, let us use
them-
There is something
new
Under the sun.
Let us clean -
up this
Planet Dammit"
WHY, CRY I
I wonder if my disappointment will ever dissipate?
And will my sorrow suddenly end tomorrow?
Will my life create anything but hate?
And instead of lending will I be able to borrow?
Questions are legion in a region of few solutions
There is no one wise enough to help me out
No one with eloquent enough elocution
Only people to heap upon me further doubt
Will I ever will away the will to ask why?
And can there ever be a finale of fascination?
I wonder why I cry out to no longer cry,
when there is nothing more than further frustration?
So many questions for me to consider
While I while time away by escaping away
I suppose peace goes to the highest bidder
At least that’s what I wish wizened people would say
© 2012 copyright PHREEPOETREE…..~free cee!~
When she stepped out of the shower
In pale wet skin
And splendor
She wore water like a queenly robe
Dripping breasts
Made of gold and treasure
Such beauty deserved
To be inscribed
Something no man should forget
In case I couldn’t memorize the bite of her
Kiss
The trembling release of her depth
In case I might forget the flavor of her
Cries
The excited rasp of her breath
I needed a photo of that naked pout
A vision
Never to forget
“Don’t take my picture,”
She warned me
In ferocious warrior tongue
Daughter of Nordic barbarians
Beauty unlike anyone
What did she think I would do
With the image she might surrender?
Sell it to the highest bidder
For thirty pieces of silver?
Send it to perverts and sex addicts
Specialists in self-pleasure?
Post it on church walls
So celibates might be tempted?
Raise it upon a flag
For an entire nation to be offended?
“Don’t take my picture,”
She warned me
In ferocious warrior tongue
Daughter of Nordic barbarians
Beauty unlike anyone
But I defied her fierce instruction
Spit from heroic luscious lips
Picture snapped
In a flash
Naked beauty captured
At last
And
Never saw that warrior again.
Planned Parenthood’s Diabolical Money Maker!!!
The most heinous crime that has been demonically inspired
surely came from Hell below;
tearing an unborn helpless baby from inside his mother’s womb
and just when you think this country couldn’t sink – no! Not that low!!!
The pain these babies must go through
having their tiny arms and legs torn off,
then having their precious little heads crushed and their
tiny organs, sold to the highest bidder on the auction block!
America!!! America!!! What has happened to you that
you let and pay that these abominable crimes could go on;
if we are not safe within our mother’s wombs
neither are we safe in a grocery store line!
Our God is not blind to these events as the people doing
these dastardly acts may think,
no, one day they will stand before Him saying, “I didn’t know it was wrong”,
“why their organs went to research”, and all the while the “unwashable” blood
was still on their hands!
Did you know PP employees and Doctors, did you know that your heart
and your conscience have totally been seared possibly for the entirety of your life?
Would you not flinch or care if someone took hold of your children for research
or possibly your husband or even your wife?
Oh, it is not for the money you would say, no it is
for the good of all mankind,
why your children have lived long enough and you’ve had a
lengthy marriage, so now, it is time for the good of research that you be sacrificed!
Planned Parenthood, you have taken this country down to Hell with you
more than likely, there is no coming back now,
for the blood of millions of babies is crying out to our God, crying and crying and crying!!! Open your hearts and ears and you might will be able to hear that sad sound!
Written by: Marilyn S. Jennings
July 28, 2015
HE DID WHAT??????????
I got a call from my grandson
whose remodeling his "new home"
He said it's big and wide and spacious
And it even has a dome!
Fancy that it's full of marble
and he's a special room for me
He was the only bidder
A funeral home that use to be!
_______________________
Good Lord I'm not going to visit
Mysterious me
I'm mysterious, secretive,evasive
No friends, very little family
A Nomad traveling from city to city
State to state, country to country
No ties or obligations
I am free in my own mind.
I posses the inability to fear.
So I cast myself to lions and wolves
Wishing death but I constantly
Survive.
Gazing down the barrel of a loaded
Ak47, I smile and step forward
Pressing my head to the warm metal.
The enemy hesitates to seal my fate.
Russian roulette one bullet six holes five tries click, click, click,click,click
Most say I'm sick, to some it's a
Magic trick, I'm dancing with death
Following his footsteps . I'm not a
Mad man I'm just offering help.
Gang life I've played with the cartels
And mafia
The triads and yakuza
Gangsta disciples
Bloods and crips
Nick name no soul
With a Black heart, my eyes very
Cold.
Merchant of death to the highest
Bidder.
Cash, diamonds, or gold
What's the price? Ok I'm sold.
Military soldier slash henchman what you have captain? Its a dangerous mission, "well hell that's what I been missing" it's too hot for most but I'm
Perfect for the kitchen. "HM1 Do you desire to die"? Yes captain, "but why" So I looked in his eye and told the guy " I am who i am" with a loud
Battle cry.
Traveling the world from coast to coast enemies become friends that
Offer up a toast, but to my host
I'm a ghost. Mouth closed because I
Never boost. I Keep my enemies closer than most.
At the end of it all lies six bullet
Wounds, nine stab scars, ptsd,
Mental problems you can't see,
Self mutilation because my injuries
Are neck deep.
I can't weep
I can't sleep
I guess death killed me without
Moving a feet.
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