Best Bite The Dust Poems
While we stay silent
The fight is going on.
In Chicago, Los Angeles, New York
The West Indies
And the Lebanon
All over the world
There is a tale to tell
Of some living in paradise
Whilst others live in hell.
Its not a random stumble
Nor a twist of faith,But a master plan.
By those who seek power
Over those who plod along
Its not an illusion, but what is felt
When we are blessed with riches
But cannot share the wealth
But what is ego without a plan?
What is salvation,
when we fail to understand?
Reparation of the soul is a must
If its redemption we seek
And god we trust
When reality rears its ugly head
When babies are born
And cannot be fed
When wars are started
And nothing is said
About the wounded, paralysed and the dead
Mothers lie down and plea.
Gun powder crying out in the atmospher,.
Tormenting my ear.
Some even bow down on bent knees.
They feel the pain and ask for mercy.
In the anguish and suffering , they bite the dust.
The TV the object
Perpetuating the fact
That humanity has taken a detour
On a roundabout
When we fail to act.
From the lack of knowledge
We fail to see
That when we are united
We end depravity.
To grow and prosper, in pastures green
That what was hidden is now seen
The truth for what it is.
When we exist, and fail to live.
When they are taking, and cannot give.
Of time and thinking.
Of mutual living, coexisting.
With love and hope
Not based off trickery and false hope.
The earth seems flat and Godot decided to arrive on the scene
Like a boil stuck on a pancake dressed as a trans gender carnival queen
He carries a prophecy written on a tag hung from his shoulder
Suggests Sisyphus had it easy on slippery slopes with his boulder
A Mocking Bird rears its ugly head on ominous spread sheets of doom
One Hundred Years Of Solitude and Paradise Lost for a safe tomb
No divine comedy but rather Robinson Crusoe's forsaken enclave
Bell Jar meets Darkness at Noon in a world neither new nor brave
Is the cute fluffy bear safe or lost on tracks near Paddington Station
Has Peter Rabbit met Alice while loo roles are the prize for the nation
Will the Famous Five dwelling in a cave of adventure survive the storm
Can Pippi darn enough stockings when isolation becomes the latest norm
A decision for the Little Prince is to whether to leave the planet in time
Would Momo kiss Benno the street sweeper or is it declared a felony crime
Tom Sawyer has to heed aunt Polly's advice and avoid Huckleberry Finn
Who puts genie back into the bottle when Aladdin's lamp shines rather dim
Surely there are more important questions to pose during epic disaster
Why do the marginalized suffer more badly than those who master
Has Donald Trump enough money to put more bricks in the partition
Can we blame Russians or Muslims or some other satanic mission
God forbid if the Monarch of Britain was to bite the dust in the crisis
Would it be a vile conspiracy theory to accuse Jihad Al Qaeda or ISIS
But the worst had to be watching a funeral cortege on computer screens
Or that socialists villains take over the country which is not what it seems
10th April 2020
Is it still there, swaying in the
Chicago air?
I dream of myself with dark,
ribboned braids, being just seven.
And swinging my tanned legs as
hard as I Could,,trying to kiss God's
cheek in heaven.
Oh to be seven again!
When free speech reigned.
Girls had cap guns and trains.
We played games of all kinds,
No PC police to say,"No, No"
"No cowboy and Indian games.
Choose marbles, they are PC tame"
(Yes and so maddeningly lame!)
Nobody hit one another.
We were of all nationalities!
All colors and yes, were sisters
and brothers.
No such freedom for Children today.
They must, bow, kneel and kiss
whatever pressure groups say!
They are trying to make girls into
boys and boys into girls.
One androgynous nation under
no God at all?
Where all are "whichevers" and
Freedom has taken it's fall!
We use color to get our way.
That white man is pure evil they say.
So we beat them good, though they
did nothing to us.
It's the sign of the times.
All white women and men must
Bite the dust?
Sadly, sadly, our freedoms down
the toilet go.
To the SS Socialism Ship we blindly go.
Cheering for free everything.
You will never hear another
Liberty Bell Ring!
October 23, 2019
Grace in-pours, if in God we trust
The welcome mat is laid
Erst ego cravings bite the dust
Ascension ready made
As bliss pulsations race
We see God face to face
In endearing embrace
Open doors
Grace in-pours
27-August-2021
Quietus
It’s true that we are different, but life can be tough for all of us
No matter who we are, we all shall one day bite the dust
So take your liberty to debate and disagree, to fuss and discuss
Let’s exercise our freedom of speech and argue if we must
There are some things we must stand up against and fight It's not a fight to prove who’s wrong and who’s right
It’s one way to supply the world with salt and light
It’s also another way to separate the night from the day
It’s another way to keep the darkness in its place
It’s another way to give hope to the human race
I tell you, we must be brave, bold, and not run away and hide
Never giving chance and opportunity for an evil and rising tide
May our voices be heard, never giving sway to the absurd
May we step forward and cast our vote while there is still hope
cj01192012
Why would I want to be a flower
when I can smell as sweet?
Why would I want to be an ephemeral spectacle
when I can be an eternal bloom with love within?
Why would I want to wilt and wither
and bite the dust?
But if I have to, I'll be a DANDELION!
Invincible, unconstrained, conspiring with
the wind to spread my domain
of golden-yellow flowery quilt
over the lawns and the meadows
as far as the eyes can see.
Slighted, ignored, untended,
I still flourish unabashed,
Teasing, mocking playfully--
An unrelenting pain in the butt!
Flower: Dandelion = Lion's tooth
"Picture yourself as a flower" contest by Andrea Dietrich
Like a flower that wilts,
Like a tower on stilts,
This life's just a vapour,
Bite the dust, time scraper,
Like the fall of Eden,
Like the call of Big Ben,
Time hurries rapidly,
Life scurries vapidly,
Like a wave that abates,
Like the grave that awaits,
The dew soon disappears,
Milky moon slowly clears,
Like a leaf decaying,
Like belief that's swaying,
Wax wings are temporal,
Good things ephemeral.
24th February 2023
For "Inspired by Robert Frost's Nothing Gold Can Stay" contest
Sponsor: JCB Brul
8/10/17
Be careful what you ask for
Next thing you know it wasn't all that great, or you want even more
This isn't the same old spiel
I'll tell you something real
Everyone has an 'Achilles heel'
Speaking the truth, life is rather short
Don't be a poor sport
The ball is in your court
You are really barking up the wrong tree
If you think you're godly
Compared to everybody
Only here once
No ifs ands or buts
All eventually bite the dust
It's not all make believe
From A to Z
Others will always meddle
I don't care if you believe in god or the devil
Better grasp the nettle
Instead of trying to always settle
If you want to reach a higher level
Again
I'll hit the nail on the head
Don't get misled
We all wind up dead
I'm going to call it a day
But not going to throw it all away
Helium balloons may last
Well past when they're inflated,
Although longevity like that
Is vastly overrated.
For who needs "Welcome Baby" ones
When yours is two years old;
And most "Congratulations"
After weeks start growing cold.
Balloons fulfill their duties well
But often they will pop;
With helium, however,
All those greetings never stop.
Yet there's one way to tell
If a balloon should bite the dust -
When it's puckered, loose and droopy,
Then its message you can't trust.
My heart gently weeps yet again
For the long lost song of Mercury.
I know it’s been some 27 years since he left the stage we mortals call life,
But even now his light still is bright in this darkness we call our lives.
We all still honor his very existence every day.
Even if we don’t know it we carry on the torch of his music,
From merely jamming out to his glorious voice to creating an award-winning biopic about his life with Queen,
We still are the champions of the world even if we bite the dust, because we make sure Freddie lives forever.
His voice is that of angels singing and nobody can outdo it,
Even if you try with all your might he’ll whisk you away with the flick of a microphone,
For even his vocal range is as unique as he was.
Even in just writing a song, he can outdo the norm,
“Bohemian Rhapsody,” “Killer Queen,” and “We Are the Champions” just to name a few.
He drew out the best of people, rocking audiences to the very core,
For Queen belongs to even the loneliest souls of the world, the ones who just don’t belong.
We find ourselves in music, in Queen, in Freddie Mercury, and that you can’t replace.
Life goes on though, we always have to find the will to carry on.
We can continue to carry Mercury’s flamboyant torch onward though,
Keep on passing the torch down to the younger generations.
We can continue to rock out and enjoy life while we can,
Because nothing lasts forever and we don’t know when life will fade.
Queen lives on with Adam Lambert alongside Brian May and Roger Taylor,
Even if Freddie is gone, his life is carried on through Queen and every single one of us.
No matter what, the show must go on, for Freddie Mercury and Freddie Mercury alone.
Shots fired
In a western town
Smoke clears
From the barrel of a gun
Two arch rivals
In a duel of death
Who's the better gunslinger
Will be put to the test
Bullets fly
On a mission to kill
Only the Bulls-eye shooter
Holsters his weapon again
Sheriff falls
To bite the dust
A cowboy escapes
Trailed by bounty hunters and hounds
A reward is set
On church walls and saloons
"Wanted dead or alive"
Reports Tombstone daily news
The Omnipotent Hand knows what is best;
Man sees himself and nature at blind spot.
Now in a sine graph we are at the crest.
Yes, a turning point is what we have got!
The Hand constructed a clean house for us,
But we cook what we eat in the fireplace.
The scented air turns into greenhouse gas,
Increasing the temperature in the space.
The Hand let the rain fall and river flow,
But we give them artificial flavors:
Rain gets an acid, river a shadow.
Sickening soft drinks have various colors.
The Hand gave us the land to tread upon,
But we make the wheels to send us away.
And we bite the dust; diseases have won.
We choose to die and not to walk a day.
The Omnipotent Hand showed us the sign
To bend the trend and take full reversal,
Like searching for the grapes, the source of wine.
Unless we go back, all shall be fatal.
(c) 2012 by Sherwin
Balbuena
Some like to say “give up the ghost”,
To mean forever abandoning your post.
The rowdy ones prefer to kick the bucket,
Though that would surely make a racket.
Many are said to bite the dust,
When they’re catching the skyward bus.
A gambler would likely cash in his chips,
Hope he’ll change his winnings into tips.
I knew someone who turned up his toes,
When on habaneros he overdosed.
The more vocally inclined tend to croak,
Then become quieter than a dead oak.
My granduncle may soon fall off his perch,
For both food and sex he has lost the urge.
We will soon shuffle off this mortal coil,
Pack it up and immigrate to the soil.
You’re scheduled to go the way of all flesh,
Whether your figure is average or a smash.
It’s no great tragedy to breathe one’s last,
If regrets are few and life’s been a blast.
When I’m ready to sail to heaven’s arch,
Raise a toast and wish me bon voyage!
In America, after World War 2 and the war in Korea, the post war economy brought hopes of a bright career.
Many of its citizens were thawing from the freeze, but not us. We would have to wait; perhaps too few made a fuss.
Though our fore parents had already paid a terrible price, most would agree that our lot was still a very hard and vicious life.
Yes, although we were citizens and could pay our fares like all the rest; being Black, we were striped of rights and forced to the back of the bus.
I am certain that God heard the cries of the Black masses as they fervently prayed, "O God, have we not had enough?"
The beat goes on, and the unchecked heat waves of tyranny were yet unjust. And as the sands of time slowly fell in the hour glass, we waited.
The reality was that many more had to suffer and slowly bite the dust. Man's cruelty and debauchery are not new and never need be a mystery.
We would have to wait, like so many others in prior generations of history. Mortal man's unquenchable greed, and his thirst for power have no boundary.
God-given fortunes of rights are seldom relinquished by the powers that be. Undoubtedly, heaven did indeed gaze upon the broken promises of history.
So we waited for aid and relief from our inhumane misery. Nevertheless, The Almighty took note, and determined the time for heaven's visitation.
02242017 cj PS
Never seen beautiful angels
sprinkle angel dust on me
as snowflakes on a leafless tree,
and I don't expect them to alter things
when they swoop down with their long wings;
where were they when I faced fears and dangers?
Angel dust has another meaning...
besides the magical power to alter a destiny,
kids of my age used this drug
and went insane, not recognizing
themselves, their personality changed drastically;
some even wanted to jump out of a window.
Sweet angels, leave Heaven and visit me
on the days when wishes freeze on silent lips,
let them resemble snow falling on distant hills,
and deserted roads like the one I'm traveling on!
Let me catch many snowflakes softer than a baby
with soft skin...whiter than daises basking in the spring sun!
A boy, barely fourteen, has been found dead as a poisoned rat
on the bleachers of a run-down baseball field frequented by a hungry cat....
his red eyes were wide-open imploring a merciless sky color rust;
no angel came down to save him: he laid there and painfully died!
Who gave him that powerful drug? Did he want to bite the dust?
He has taken that secret with him...why didn't anyone listen when he cried?
Entered in Gail Angel Doyle's contest,
" Angel Dust "
Written by Andrew Crisci
on 10/18/ 2012