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Best Bottom Line Poems | Poetry

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Bottom Line by Ellison, Jack
Bottom Line by Schneiter, Paul
bottom line by Cane, H
A Fine Bottom Line by Ellison, Jack
My Bottom Line by Ellison, Jack
A Fine Bottom Line by Ellison, Jack
Bottom Line -Think Happy by Ellison, Jack
The Real Bottom Line by Ellison, Jack
The Bottom Line by That Archaic Poet, Just
Your Bottom Line by Ellison, Jack

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The Best Bottom Line Poems

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The MIND HUNTER

In search of the human mind

Different thoughts crossed my mind,
a few conclusions I could not find
The human mind has no stop!
Receiving input, danger, before I blow my top

Sometimes the light clicks
I think I figured out the problem
It's at the tip of my mind ;-)
Sorry, my brain cells did it again, 
Ran out of THINK!
When it comes to love, I'm brain dead!
This is me talking to my brain,
"Are you just being lazy, you fell too quick?"
A game in a maze inside my head!
Give me some help, or what use are you 
Open the way only you can unlock the door.
Unfold my future, stop hiding the key
How about it mind?
Do you want me to put you back on pills?
Stand back brain, while I explain your job.

The Human mind is not easy to read like a book
However, some are cruel limiting judgment, with one look
The mind plays tricks when too much information is perceived
The mind is related to the heart, sending signals the wrong way
The mind works when the body's asleep
(I call it a dream, I hope you don't mind I put it there!)
The mind creates beauty,  wonders of the world
The mind is a soft whisper, a secret, my conscious ---I Swear
The mind is devious, tricky can outsmart like a fox
The mind is a beautiful thing to waste in a box
The mind can journey, without leaving its nest
The mind is knowledge, many fail to explore
The mind is a Captain, traveling far and beyond
The mind is like a paint brush, colorful art
The mind is a creature who hides in a cave
The mind is like pain, don't stop in its way
The mind is like a mime who does not talk at all
The mind is fragile, don't use it like a sponge
The mind is like a pair of shoes,
without the mind we're bare

The bottom line is,  the mind is a mystery!
Don't mind me, I lost my mind, years ago :):):)

            (THOUGHTS)


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2010


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Enjoy The Ride



Some days are diamonds, some are stone To quote an old John Denver hit Truer words were never spoken The “stone days” (not stoned days!) Are only sent to us to test our resolve And to appreciate the “diamond days” even more To prove, that as dark or as difficult as life can get There is ALWAYS a silver lining Otherwise we'd all be candidates for the looney bin Trust me, have I ever lied to you before? Okay... well only a couple of times And I was under the influence??? The influence of WHAT, you may ask Uh, I take the fifth... okay here are some examples Now let me see, watching a pretty girl go by Or the government sending me an unexpected refund Of a couple of hundred dollars YEEHAW Maybe sitting down to my favourite meal With my lovely spouse I've adored Since the two of us were dreamy-eyed sweethearts In grade school right up to the present And now happily married with a couple of wee ones Don't get me wrong, I do have days of stone But my diamond days far outnumber them So the bottom line is Live, love, laugh and be happy You only get one chance to travel life's highway So ENJOY the ride!!! © Jack Ellison 2014


Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2014


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No More


I remember that Sunday night 
When I got the call from my Mom
She called to let us know
My brother was wounded in Vietnam
I went to my car
Sat in my Chevy and cried
I almost lost my brother
And remembered two friends who had died
I had served my time in the Navy
But believed the war was insane
So I took off my dog tags
On my neck I put a peace chain
Too many friends had been wounded
Serving a country that didn't care
Troops mistreated when they came home
They should have never been sent there
Troops served with courage and honor
And deserved a better fate
No one should have sacrificed so much
Only to come home to anger and hate
The average age of the dying
In that jungle was nineteen
An unjust war that split our nation
In a way it had never seen
I stopped an old friend's mother
On Broad Street one Friday night
Asked if his wounds were healing
And was he doing all right
She said there's a lot of damage 
From that God forsaken war
When he goes to sleep each evening
He's back in that combat zone once more
Vietnam will never end for many of those who served
Wounds that never heal and no freedom was preserved
Our young were all expendable
To the government elite
War brought soaring profits
Neither victory nor defeat
I visited a grave site
Of a friend I'd known for years
One night he took his own life
I held back my tears
For him it was all over
The nightmares from the war
He left a wife and child
But he could fight this war no more
Just another statistic, no justice we demand
Disrespected and forgotten in his native land
When do we stop and say no more
When it's for someone's bottom line that we fight a war
Ran into an old friend and listened to what he said
I go to church on Sundays but sometimes I wish I was dead
I keep seeing all that blood and I still smell napalm
If I fall asleep at night, I'm back in Vietnam
This country still fights unjust wars not trying to make amends
For the soldier covered in dirt and blood, the suffering never ends
In our nation's defense we should fight a war
For any other reasons we should say no more.


For my brother, classmates and friends who served in Vietnam.


Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr. | Year Posted 2017


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Simba

As I sit here penning this little ditty,
My desk is full of sprawling kitty!
This dear old inscrutable friend of mine;
I hope he has many more lives than nine!

He's just an ordinary striped ginger cat,
So fiesty, independent and fat.
His lack of noble lineage doesn't bother me;
I doubt that he's concerned about pedigree!

He has given me so much pleasure,
Even tho' he's mutilated some treasure!
What an elegant and enchanting pet.
I haven't found his contender yet!

He doesn't ask all that much of me,
Just some food and affection periodically.
I scratch his ears, stroke his fur smooth;
He in turn provides me with purring to soothe!

Maybe there are more exotic pets than a cat,
I will most certainly grant you that,
But when it comes to the bottom line,
No more noble creature did God design!





Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2010


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' He's Company ... '

‘ He’s Company ! … ’


He’s Not Down With Misery
 and Not Out with The In(flated)-Crowds
But He’s Up On Lady Liberty …
Laughing, New York-Minute, Out Loud !

‘Cause … if  Misery, Loves Company …
Company, Sure Don’t Love Misery !
Company … is Taking Care of Business
Strictly, Take into Account, Swiftness

… and Staying Out The Red
Things, Misery Cut and Bled
All Over His Spread-Sheets
Which, He Washed and Hung On Wall Street

Now… Here’s Her Penny for Your Thoughts Again …
Saying, ‘Get Me Out of This Rain-Check, Claim !
Man … She’s A Bottom-Line – Pain !
Boy, Throw Her Some Chunk-Change …

His Blank Check, is What Misery’s After
But, Company is The Man, and ‘ The Manager ‘
He’s Telling Misery, with Interest …
‘ … Girl, Stay Outta’ My Business !

… and I May Pay Misery A Visit …
‘Cause I’m Lady Liberty … Unlimited !
I’m Platinum, and I Got My Hand Up …
‘ Don’t Make Me Put It Down and Whip Your, You Know What !

‘Cause Company … Gets The Job Done !
Show Them How It’s Done … Hon !
Look … You Know You Got Lady Liberty 
 ( and, I’m gonna Keep This Fortune 500 Company )             

For: Jimbo  (James Marshall Goff) 
Business, Strictly Business (smile)
Because You Seem to Get 
and Like, my Kooky, Double-Talking
Witticisms  (Enjoy Between Your Classes)
and Keep That Education Coming

                MoonBee


Copyright © MoonBee Canady | Year Posted 2009


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Ode to the unsung hero

Ode to the Unsung Hero

I salute the devotee of his craft
who diligently pursued perfection
with no recognition
but remained true to himself
and trudged along but lost 
to the dynamics of politics and the bottom line
He was not in his time and space 
of Fame

I lift my glass to her , the Fool
who trusted them with her better idea
only to lose it anyway
but remained true to herself
she knew not how to play
the devious Game.

To the saints unselfish
who cared for humankind 
but were overshadowed
by fanatics religious, emirs and kings
Heaven was not theirs
to Claim

The writer not read
and the artist well dead
the writers of music
and the musicians who longed
to play their songs
and share in their glory
but not to be.

So let us applaud them  loudly
 they remained true to themselves
let them bask in the sunshine
if for only a brief time
or at least  until
the sun goes down.

Mid Summer Standard Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand
July 18, 2017


Copyright © Ralph Sergi | Year Posted 2017


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A word From Your Bartender

Listen here, buddy,
I'm in control.
If you don't like it,
Then go for a stroll.

There is more than one exit,
And I can give you directions.
I don't care what you think,
 I don't need your objections.

I can get to be  a b---h,
In two seconds flat.
I can also be a sweetheart,
There's no question of that.

But here's the bottom line,
It always goes my way.
Do what you like,
Just do as I say.


Written for bartenders everywhere. From a bartender whose seen quite a lot. So 
please give your respect to your local bartender. Especially when she only one 
working, and she's bouncing a fight by herself.


Copyright © Lisa Green | Year Posted 2006


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This is what is left shining

Physical pain can run deep, restricting life as it once was
Attacking the very things that make life what is should be
To be lived fully enjoyed
A trap it can be when there is little that is able to be done
Compared to usual
Those things that mean the most to someone, are limited
Suddenly life is turned into survival with worries that easily consume
Turning fears into what will be?
However, in all this, it is amazing how someone else’s gentle words
Can make a difference
Understanding and care for what is, no matter what the struggle may be
The simple plain understanding that life is not always smooth functioning
Inside a person is still the same person with heart and soul full of love
This is what matters most of all
This is what should count in a world that holds unreasonable expectations
In a place where sometimes the genuine giving love that counts is not priority
Bottom line is, when all else is stripped away, this is what is left shining

Heidi Sands
1/15/17



Copyright © Heidi Sands | Year Posted 2017


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One True Love


One love One true love Through all of life's storms Through sad times Through happy times Our path may be strewn With obstacles But the bottom line Is triumph in the end Ability to look back and say All things considered It couldn't have been better Love will always carry us through It's what makes us tick It's food for our soul A reason to go on In spite of the challenges For when that special someone Turns to you and says You are my one love My one and only love It's music to your ears Worth more than all the world's riches More than life itself Life finally has meaning When you feel that love That one true love


Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2018


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A Freak Of Literature

A freak of literature 
Designed by those mad poets 
But escaped the lab: 
the English classroom,
Its me G the hybrid word:
With added punctuation and 
bold character so im strong- 
Arial be my font family but i spaced away,
So I ain't close to them
So sorry paragraphs and stanzas!
I guess the writer knows my verses.

A lonely word, a sentence out cast: 
Low self esteem and narrow stem
Serifs sticking out so im teased! 
Roaming the lines, in the bottom line
Seeing meaningless words and incorrect spellings;
Paragraphs hanging in the margins ,
Looking out for erasers and ink removers
No word dreams of spending their literature:
Stroked out; erased and torn out;
Threw in a garbage can: that hell!
O please writers answer us!
We just want to be read in harmony,
And spelled correctly.


We words know:
That these are the last Summarized times 
so the poem might end 
But let me finish up,
The writers know the poetry 
The whole story, they created us!
Words of this Chapter
The freak of literature,
How did I know? it's the writer
The prophecy of the chosen word:
The son of poets and the proper nouns
So they all capital letters,
Yeah! They coming for yeah!

The errors, words that have been erased
The undead, the unreadable 
Damn the legible,
Think they better than us!
Cause they accepted by the writers,
Writing and prophesizing sentences
Those verses forming stories,
It's war: words stroked
Cold inked so they erased,
Torn out papers!
This is deeper than writing!

We all words destined to be read
So some are reasoning,
Is this a verse or a poem?
Many words are beginning-
to question their literature,
Begging writers to write evenly,
No orphans and widows 
We just want to be spaced out:
Adjustments and justified 
In lined sentences- 
so we spread out properly
 uniting calling paragraphs;
Growing in numbers to stanzas,
So all the readers read us as one story.


Copyright © Piercing Words | Year Posted 2018


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Ode to the unsung hero

I salute the devotee of his craft
who diligently pursued perfection
with no recognition
but remained true to himself
and trudged along but lost
to the dynamics of politics and the bottom line
He was not in his time and space
of Fame

I lift my glass to her, the Fool
who trusted them with a better idea
only to lose it anyway
but remained true to herself
She knew not how to play
the devious Game

To the saints unselfish
who cared for humankind
but were overshadowed by
by fanatics religious, emirs and kings
Heaven was not theirs to Claim

To the writer not read
and the artist well dead
and the musicians who longed to play their songs
and share in their glory
but not to Be

So let us applaud them loudly
they remained true to themselves
Let them bask in the sunshine
if for only a brief time
or at least until the sun goes Down


Copyright © Ralph Sergi | Year Posted 2013


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B*lly Pop Pill ( VIAGRA )

B*lly Pop's Pill  (VIAGRA)

Let me tell you a story about my grandpa B*lly.
He popped too many pills to encourage his w*ly
Instead he earned a new name for being Silly

We call him B*lly PoP's Pill
Poor grandpa was way over the hill
To him his stock was still a big deal
 
I scheduled him an appointment to visit his Doc.
He did not want to understand he had no more rocks.
Poor grandpa reminisces the days when he was a jock.

His Doc, Prescribed him two bottles of xx Hot VIAGRA
Grandpa B*lly popped them as if there was no tomorrow
Now he is sweating like the Falls in Niagara

Grandpa did not listen to the Doc's lead
B*lly Pop's Pill until his urine started to bleed
Grandpa started acting as if he was on speed

Grandpa popped out with his inflatable doll Mrs.Lill
Soon I discovered he swallowed every single VIAGRA pill
I took him to the hospital after he got real ill

I told the  Doc, my grandpa is over the age of sixty five.
He almost overdose drinking all them wanna be pills
His only reaction was popping out with zits and hives.

At the hospital my grandpa was dreaming of Woodstock.
Next thing you know I see him on top of the Doc.
I laughed at the fact that my grandpa got over his s*men block.

I took grandpa home he had sick sticky cobbwebs on his hand
At that point he was no longer under the Doc's command
Alone at last in his room with Mrs.Lill was his master plan.

The bottom line is my grandpa is sparking what was not alive.
Now he is over 65 with an enormous sex drive.
Who would have guessed it took all them pills to revive his thrive

I'm glad my grandpa tried xx Hot VIAGRA when his feelings where gone.
Now he abuses his inflatable dolls with all his hard on's
Addicted to Viagra he buys a new doll ever time he is done..

.By:P.D.


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2010


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WEIRD SCIENCE

* Weird  Science *

With pens he walks
Pocket Protectors to protect his chest
Taped up glasses on his face
Pull his pants down, call him a GEEK a NERD
Science -relativity theory and it's light speed from space
Experiment this- discover that, is how scientist rant
Brainy cats have so many open portals in their minds
You talk down to us as if we carry the brains of a bird
Do you really think we are all blind, 
for not caring over the objectives  principles of the Heisenberg?

You passed  each and ever single science fairs in class
Feeding your ego collecting dots 
After school you earned the right when a bully kicked your a$$!
A DORK calling your self the Math Magician King
Burning and crashing our minds explaining the physics of dying fast 
Using your Quantum Leap that our universe comes with a destiny string

No desire to be wired who needs your further scientific understanding
Life comes with a pattern in which we once lived electricity free
Ironically your scientific process of defining itself continues to expand
Supported by the measurements and masses only you NERDS understand
The power points of our so called energy,
is pointless to me like our so called gravity.
The tale you spin is not of love but a twisted one of insanity

God is the only scientific knowledge I want to perceive!
All you so called scientist, riding the lightning like Benjamin F.  
Take the bolt and tie it like a noose around your neck
Following your own perception while you feed off the sheep
Here you come to emerge to discipline us with your mind of a genius
You come and you bash us with NERD brain waves to explain! 
That this world revolves around the elements and laws of scientific claims

Research this- research that- who gives a cr@p we still die at the end
While life continues, to grow and manipulate our fate, about the universe
Unsolved facts about Einstein, who left his velocity of change for us to comprehend.
Instead of trying to rule the world, explain the facts why things keep getting worse?
Over exaggerating the excitement of an Ancient Mayan 2012 discovery curse.
Bottom line you scientific  quacks,
the real Celestial body is found on the bottom of my crack.

By; P.D.            ( LOL, I love Science )


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2010


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Family Therapy

Feminist ecotherapists,
deeply immersed in permacultural eco-logic,
a systematic teleology of cooperative nutrition economics,
remain rarely flushed out from their camouflage.

A self-isolating,
often eremitic,
subspecies,
with shamanic nature-as-spirit tendencies,
our most articulate mentors often wander off
to pray for,
breathe and suffer and dance and sing
with Earth and all Her polyculturing species and seasons,
spaces and times,
avoiding glaring spotlights of media networks
and shallow soundbites.

That said,
perhaps I can share lessons from my children
about internal and external landscapes of justice
and passion,
passion for restoring justice
and against unnecessarily traumatic
retributive injustice.

Middle Son is my cooperative networking
transgenerational
post-millennial polypath.
At twenty, he remains with me,
has not yet wandered off into his camouflage,
in part because I am a slow learner
in comparison to his lightning networked intuitive consciousness.

I am a more thorough and systematic ethologist,
but also ponderously detailed,
like Thomas Aquinas and Buckminster Fuller,
unwilling to leave any paradigm untouched,
producing a cooperative ecosystemic regenerative thesis
and antithesis of cognitive dissonance
that remains undecipherable
except to those few who already speak
and hear
and feel
and see,
absorb, to further revolve, 
polypathic nutritional multicultures;
healthier meals for all senses.

What does justice look like for my 22 year old African American eldest son
who graduated from special support services 
at Entitled-Elite Class High School
with a fourth grade cognitive and affective functionality,
no marketable integrative skills other than his physical strength
which shows decreasing likelihood of endurance
due in part to horrid nutrition
lack of self-care
his preference to self-medicate
away from his internal dissonance.

He prefers THC,
although he is angrily aware this means state and federal employment protection laws
form a moat around his buzz,
with all opportunities on the outside
and far too many long-term risks on the inside 
of his bleary silo of despair.

My loyal handsome young adult son,
recognizes discrimination,
marginalization,
poverty
in comparison to outcomes for self-medicating with alcohol.

It's a cultural thing that old people do to his MultiCultural Transmillennial Generation,
like declaring wars so youth can learn to kill each other,
while elders suck our fat wealth deposits into
sporty cars of shifty ludicrosity.

His skills do not include multiplication,
much less division,
but he knows when justice divides his population of young adults
looking for their first jobs,
so they don't have to live under tyrannical oppressors,
condemning, rather than helpful, parents.

Self-medicating with alcohol 
can easily pass through a drug screen test
with one day notice from Human Resources,
while my son watches from the other side
of this divide.

Can he get through at least eight weeks without medication
that does seem to help him feel and think better
of and with himself,
and,
given any doubt that any of this makes any sense,
how long before he stops bothering to apply for any hope of a full life?
Surely long before age thirty?

Eldest son understands the justice and injustice of attending a horribly designed state contracted job program,
to sit for eight unpaid training hours,
for at least four weeks,
probably six or even more,
in a summer classroom with no windows,
with 29 other ADD and ADHD medicated trainees,
to face the dismissive derision of their trainer
for being who they are,

Losers who will never actually be sent through to the paid employment stage of this card-shark process,
violating perhaps every justice principle intended by the Americans with Disabilities Act,
while the trainer draws his pay at our tax dollar expense.

My son was not outraged that the State had no record of contractual oversight,
no evidence that anyone who did eventually get paid could not have done so with one week's unpaid training,
no evidence that there were no other training contractors with the capacity to avoid violating civil rights 
of those supposedly receiving a service for positive,
nutritional outcomes,
rather than rejection and dispossession and dismissal and further hopelessness without incomes,
without icons of economic or political integrity.

He was not alarmed that the Commissioner,
his own State Senator,
his US Senator,
the ACLU,
did not seem to raise so much as one eyebrow
to a misuse of public dollars and trust
with outcomes that could not even perform at the thinnest level of Hippocratic justice:
If you cannot do any good,
at least be sure you cause no harm.

He has become used 
within an economic and cultural ecology
that does not include him,
and others who look and act and perform and breathe and beat their hearts,
and try to balance their bicameral hemispheres as best they can
in a "Business-As-Usual-Means-You-Do-Not Matter" environment.

So, he reminds me of what I recognized long ago,
growing up gay male in a homophobic
hetero-dominant
culture.
I am reminded of what it means 
to have no economic right to employment
and no socially supported right to love,
to be disvalued human nature
because intrinsically mendacious,
to be negatively deviant,
sin-infested 
removed from all that feels universally orthodox good,
knowing justice could not include any honest relationship 
within my Beloved Community,
could not include acceptance as a healthy soul
or body
or identity,
as the appropriate offspring of socially acceptable evolution.

My son's bottom line,
"If they wanted to abuse us,
then I wouldn't have minded so much
if they were at least going to pay me.
I'll be The Man's whore if I have to,
but I won't be his *****."





Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2015


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Eat More Chicken

Overheard at the annual convocation of a Butterball turkey flock:

"'Tis Thanksgiving again and as usual our necks are on the choppin' block!

Them pious Pilgrims began the tradition of dinin' on our hapless relations,

And ravenous *****sapiens have continued to do so fer many generations.

We're tired of 'em feastin' on our cousins, uncles, sisters and dads,

When there's tender chicken nuggets to be had by the scads and scads!

Now hear this dear brothers and sisters - this here's the bottom line:

We're gonna advertise that chicken is the better flesh upon which to dine!"

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2014 All Rights Reserved


Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2014


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Farewell But Not Goodbye



Poetry Soup has lost some of it's lustre lately There are probably a multitude of reasons But it matters not what the reasons are For me personally it is no longer the fun site It once was when I first joined A number of my favourite people Have disappeared for one reason or another Personally, I've been posting less frequently Because of health issues I've been dealing with Nothing serious, just adjusting to some age related changes Bottom line though is I'm thinking That perhaps the time has arrived For me to shut down for a while I'm a lifetime member so at some time down the line My name may pop up again So it's farewell for now but not goodbye © Jack Ellison 2014


Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2014


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KING KONG


A legend is told along the sea ports,
Of a lost island unknown to man,
Concord by a monstrous beast.
An uncharted prehistoric world,
Not shown on any chart or map.
It is a forbidden place of death,
Accursed by the almighty himself,
A dark garden of Eden.
Protected by an unseen creature,
Whom dwells hidden behind an
Ancient wall of wood, thatch and tar.
The natives scream in the night, the
Name of their tormentor, King Kong, King Kong,
Hear in the jungle, the drums beat,
A tribal people, live in a primitive world,
Within the realm of heightened terror.
Primal smoke rises as a mist,
A lone ship crosses the equators
Fine thin line between realities
And myth.
Its curtain is pulled back, revealing
An uncharted destination.
Beauty's first glimpse into a darker
Place, exposing nature's raw force of power
And the wild's magnificence grace.
Greed drives the men aboard,
Seeking fortunes favor, by dollars
And cents profit.
But in bloods bottom line, what
Worth is human life, in seductions
Primeval arena,
Does not this mistress of temptation,
Slay the savage beast within desires,
Eyes most forbidden.
This damsel in hearts distress, climbs
The tower of fates misled,
To save the concord foe.
But the fallen king, crashes to a mightier
Kingdom below, and it is called civilization.
Now she weeps beside his majesty’s broken
Body, as death over comes this giants
Will to live.
And so a legend is given birth, and
His name echo’s through a lost world,
King Kong.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN


Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2015


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Take A Penny, Leave A Penny

 You've seen them.  Those little trays on the store counter with pennies in them and often a sign saying “Take a penny, leave a penny”.  On occasion, I have dropped pennies in them, but until just recently, I never had occasion to need one.  Falling two cents short of my purchase price, I reached for another dollar, when the clerk said “I've got it” and added the two cents from the tray.  

It got me to thinking, which always gets me in trouble, how much those pennies are like poems,  lying there for the taking, waiting for someone to want them. Most people will not pick one up.  But when they want one, it is nice to know there is one they can have.

Some say pennies aren't worth much, but I beg to differ.  Their value varies from person to person. Poems are like that.  Their value is generally greatest to the person that offers it.  It is given for the most part to please someone else.  However, those that read them place their own value upon them. Some they are very thankful for, while others, well, not so much.  

The bottom line, to me at least, is a penny is always a penny and a poem is always a poem. It is what we do with it that makes the difference.  I know much that I write does not necessarily speak to the reader.  But to me, it's value does not decrease.  By the same token, I read some things and say “OK”  and move on, while others I keep.  It doesn't make any difference to me.  The author thinks it's great, and so do some readers.  That's as good as it gets.  If you don't care for it, like the penny, leave it there.  But if it fills a need, pick it up and use it.


Copyright © Bob Quigley | Year Posted 2012


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Lessons in Love

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Lessons in Love Love, You know Love?, I know what love is, Love is total contentment, Love is never having to say, sorry, Love is being sorry, even when they’re not, Love means being able to see past the here and now, Love is respect, honor and is always unconditional, Some people haven’t allowed themselves to feel Love; they are the lost souls, Some of these lost spirits are evil, you must beware, Love will not protect you, With Love, comes commitment. Uncommitted Love is just temporary happiness, Despite your emotions, sometimes you need to let go, it will be painful, The most important part of Love, is to Love yourself above all, Without a good sense of worth, you’re emotionally broke, Expect Love in return, get what you give, that’s fair, The bottom line, Love is you, loving me, And expecting that love returned, My Love lesson is done, Go, now, in peace, Always.


Copyright © Samual Ronthorpe | Year Posted 2012


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Undefined stream of consciousness

After all is said and done, cliché style
(Forgive me if this does not rhyme, I'm moving
Past rhyme for the sake of rhyme)
You will have gone away rich and returned for more
Because you thought you knew what you needed
To feel loaded, fulfilled and needed

You thought you knew your needs
And had articulated and defined them to a tee
You knew all the similes that ran parallel to your feelings
But those were nothing more than thoughts
Which is why a mind is such a terrible thing to have
You thought

You knew the right ingredients for happiness
Just the right mix
To make laughter and an electrifying smile
A happy ever after which, you thought
Existed in cash and came contained
In bags of gold marked with silver linings
which you carried a thousand miles
Only to end up clutching a plastic smile
Because all the nonsense you collected turned out
To have a mind of its own

So, you met yourself returning from that place and thinking
Was I better off before I became better off
Or did I believe a lie? Of course, you were drunk then
And you certainly are drunk now
Except you have no idea what it is. You're in the dark like me
And even now I hear a chorus of ayes and nays
And someone letting out a wry laugh and shouting amen
Because the bottom line is this; this will resonate
Even if it doesn't. I will let you be the judge of that
Folks trying to nod and shake their heads at the same time
Take it easy people, this is exactly what you think it is
Name it what you will. If the cap fits, I suggest you wear it

And so, cliché style, you returned
To the place from which you had returned
Because enough was not enough. You wanted more
But needed less of more and more of less
And fortunately, or unfortunately, about this you were clueless
All that glittered was just a bag full of humus
And once you admitted this to yourself a new light shone
And you wondered how come you'd missed this all along
But couldn't dwell on that because you had better things to do

In the end you gave away all the matters that had mattered
And in half breaths cursed and muttered
Words and phrases too precious to repeat in this space
In the end you were richer without the riches
And much more comfortable without the restraining breeches
From a society that had always wanted to define and control your mind



Copyright © Kenny Gwena | Year Posted 2017


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MY LORD - Candle Of Hope



(Candle of Hope) In Him I Have it all He's my Savior Always there ready Just to protect Defend me All the Time 'Cause He's my Champion With Him my sins are gone In Him there's mighty power Many things helps me bear 'Cause He's my Champion Jesus Christ is my King He saves,for Him heart sing Anything for me would do 'Cause He's my Champion Through His Book we can grow Two-thousand years ago came And saved us from Hell's flame 'Cause He's my Champion He died upon a tree... And thru Him death just flee I want to live thru Him 'Cause He's my Champion Without Christ life is grim Jesus sees "you" not sin With Him, you always win 'Cause He's my champion;With Him my sins are gone. Dorian Petersen Potter aka ladydp2000 aka ladylove copyright@2014 December,04,2014 "Candle of Hope" is a new poetry style, created by Dorian Petersen Potter, (aka ladydp2000/ aka ladylove) on October 19,2009 The pattern for this style goes like this: First start with the wick of the candle and that's 9 line in total. Syllable count for the wick is: 1.2.3.4.5.4.3.2.1. Then the body of the candle is 20 lines in total. The syllable count is: 6 syllables in each line. And the format is: A1,2,3,4,A1,6,7,8,A1,10,11,12,A1,14,15,16,A1,18,19,20. The bottom,(line 21)that's the last line, at the end of candle(candleholder)consists of 12 syllables and is composed from lines A1 and line 2.These two lines combined together form the base of the candle or candleholder.Now these two lines can be separated either by a period,semi-period or a comma.This is the poet's choice. Rhyme is optional. Subject:It must be either spiritual,uplifting or inspirational. Thank you for reading.


Copyright © Dorian Petersen Potter | Year Posted 2014


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THE WAY OF THE WORLD

THE WAY OF THE WORLD

World, if ever come again the frosty night
When jewelled dawn’s head advanced too late
And summer was cut short as a blight
On love turned suddenly to hate!

Asking what goodness, you must answer
As if  jealousy, the  weapon of the porter
Made you fill his questionnaire for cancer
And then have you declared the morning’s daughter -

Real talent can be virtuous because
A certainty is the bottom line -
Mediocrity is his rallying cause,
As if being clever, the world could turn you into swine.

Such fools are shocking, but keep the news discreet
When the queen is made a beggar in the street.


Copyright © Rosemarie Rowley | Year Posted 2015


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Candle Of Hope

Thankful (Candle of Hope) For All Things We are blessed To have tomorrows Bright and sunny From above Treasured Love Within each passing day His constant guiding light And stars that brightly shine With all the grace in sight Within each passing day Twilight gleaming in gold High in the endless sky Like a garden in bloom Within each passing day A transition takes place Nature’s beauty changing Different color shades Within each passing day Everything great or small Thankful for tomorrow Bringing hope and peace Within each passing day Faithful, joyful moments Beautiful in all dreams To know He’s always near Within each passing day, His constant guiding light. Erich J. Goller Copyright 11.16.2012.
Candle of Hope" A Poetry style, created by Dorian Peterson Potter on October 19,2009 The pattern for this style goes like this: First start with the wick of the candle and that's 9 line in total. Syllable count for the wick is: 1.2.3.4.5.4.3.2.1. Then the body of the candle is 20 lines in total. The syllable count is: 6 syllables in each line. And the format is: A1,2,3,4,A1,6,7,8,A1,10,11,12,A1,14,15,16,A1,18,19,20. The bottom,(line 21)that's the last line, at the end of candle(candleholder)consists of 12 syllables and is composed from lines A1 and line 2.These two lines combined together form the base of the candle or candleholder.Now these two lines can be separated either by a period, semi-period or a comma.This is the poet's choice. It must be either spiritual,uplifting or inspirational.? Rhyme is optional.


Copyright © Erich Goller | Year Posted 2012


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Absence Makes The Heart Grow Fonder

Absence makes the heart grow fonder
Been said many many times
But I'm about as fond as I could be
Methinks I've proved it just fine

So don't need none of that absence stuff
Do you catch my drift as they say
I'll permit it for maybe an hour or so
But that's it and certainly not for a day

There's a very severe penalty you must pay
Should you exceed the allotted limit
A basic one hundred kisses and hugs
Plus another twenty-five more per minute

That might seem like a real hefty fine
But it's there to shown you how serious
It is to deprive this depraved old soul
He can wind up disoriented and delirious

Bottom line is, please handle with care
My kind doesn't come along often
Treat me well and I'll be yours for life
I'll make your heart melt and soften

© Jack Ellison 2013




Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2013


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The Folly of Man

The Folly of Man

Into that great abyss we speak fortunes, wants and frustrations
Seeking that witch can only give us solace to that that never bothers.
A million prayers go out into the night with fear and supplications
Only one eye open, and that half seeing the plan that is our fathers.

We glean the fields of a present day pasture seeing naught but the road ahead
Never looking sideways, to that wich could be. Or back to what has passed
It is the Folly of Man that keeps us building this world from the blood of the dead
Where brick, tile and steel, are forever the molds from witch our children are cast

We need to move forward to a simpler time where things are not complex
When profit does not reign as the bottom line and the dollar is not our savior
To strive for a life where we live freely, without regard to color or sex
When hungry children can catch the breath and hate isn’t normal behavior 

When a gift is again just a gift, and no longer requires an equal requital,
And a compliment given to another isn’t for a personal gain.
When justice is sought and given, and no guilty takes home and acquittal 
And the innocent can live their lives without feeling unwarranted pain

So look to the instructions that he left us, that those, his chosen have penned,
And wander not where you road will lead you, or what your destiny really is
This world we know is fleeting and into eternity we must all ascend
For never has there been a more apparent truth, that all of this is really His.


Copyright © Ryland Matthews | Year Posted 2010