Best By(A) Poems
I could see the virus approaching so why couldn't he?
But he had to keep investors happy and save the economy
On his watch people in their thousands, died needlessly
The U.K. had a spiralling death rate, a preventable tragedy.
He didn't listen to the top scientists, they have said so
I hope he doesn't try and deny it and say he didn't know
Care home residents from hospitals sent home to die
A ring of steel around the vulnerable, seems that was a lie.
Denials and lies seems to be a politicians stock in trade
Many have looked on in horror at the decisions he's made
Lockdowns were implemented but sadly too late
While the virus was spreading at an alarming rate.
He said " no more lockdowns, let the bodies pile high"
His advisor said he said it and of course he'll deny
The Bereaved Families for Justice, want a public enquiry
A waste of taxpayers money because he governs with impunity.
He stood in his doorway clapping with a smile on his face
What he offered the NHS 'heroes' is nothing short of a disgrace
They were offered a paltry rise of a measly one percent
Many put themselves at risk and are now struggling to pay rent.
These pandemics are nothing new and this one won't be the last
It's a shame that he and other leaders didn't learn from the past
Politicians are sparse with the truth, and they often deceive
But please make up your own mind on who you want to believe.
Written on 25th May 2021.
Death be not proud but humble with strife
Old man flicks ashes, has one last choke
‘Tis nothing to fear, just the nature of life
Many passed before him, cut off like a knife
They fester in his memory with this his final smoke
Death be not proud but humble with strife
In youth there were ladies, his courtships were rife
But never a vow, no promises he spoke
‘Tis nothing to fear, just the nature of life
He lived wild and free, never seeking a wife
Much wealth he acquired, never to be broke
Death be not proud but humble with strife
He failed to see beyond the edge of gold’s knife
Shared nothing, loved no one, found no comforting cloak
‘Tis nothing to fear, just the nature of life
Tonight he wishes that he should have changed his life
He snuffs his candle, knows he’ll not feel heaven’s stroke
Death be not proud but humble with strife
‘Tis nothing to fear, just the nature of life
HANGING BY A THREAD - COLLABORATION WITH DARREN WHITE
I felt my life hanging by a thread
The tip of your sword piercing my heart
My mind screamed words my mouth couldn't say
The unfairness of it plain in the dark night
And through it all the sharpness of your mind
That once attracted me, like moths are drawn to flames
Dance fiercely around, burn to ashes,
Nothing remains but shallow husk, and tears
Replacing trust that once shone bright
Your deceitful words are now unveiled
Your true nature open for all to contemplate
You can't hide in the shadows anymore
No more I say, enough of your cold-bloodedness
So callous. My moth will be a butterfly;
This crying creature of the night
Will shed it's cocoon and step into the light
And as is my right, I'll conquer the skies
No more crawling for me
I was born to fly High
April 18th, 2017
By Darren White and Claudia Polydoro
I was caught by a train yesterday
I hear people say
this often in exasperation
exaggerated tones
with over-dramatic groans
as if the train somehow
physically captured them
in its large mechanical grasp
diabolically refusing
to let them go
Yesterday
I was caught in a different way
imagination captured, you might say
captivated
charmed
and enchanted
by the passing art display
Something about the way
vibrant, vivid colors
unexpectedly
splashed out on moving canvas
of rust red and dull gray
traveling fast
across the city
feisty train talking smack
with tags and words amusing, witty
strange, disturbing, edgy, gritty
grinding down the tracks
Sometimes shocking-
artfully rendered obscenities
or surprisingly
endearing
cartoon creatures
manga characters
from overseas
expressed with impressive
expertise
and ingenuity
As other drivers sat nearby
fussing, fuming
missing the show
pawing their floorboards
like impatient horses
hands gripping wheels
ready to go-
I watched the trains in
constant childlike
wonder and delight
for those twenty minutes of my day
two trains gone by, one each way
...Then watched the other cars
rolling through
still red
flashing lights
as soon as crossing arms
were lifted halfway
rushing, roaring
trying to make up
the time that was “taken”
by the railway
Your large stuffed synthetic sack
and the aching bones and muscles
that strain against the pain
of a planet that you're sure must hate you,
are sure that you hate it too.
Your wheels are just large enough
to allow the suicidal stride
of the dire recycler's chariot
which may really be suicidal or worse,
but what, for you, is better ?
Your muscles and bones so busy
that they don't even know the pain,
your chariot wheels so quick and slow
that they don't know what will be,
assuming that anything may be.
Your last fair job was an unfair chance
and your bosses and their trucks are forgotten,
because the bitter angry man
in Tracking & Surveillance
found a reason for you to be fired.
Your last unfair job disintegrated too
and you no longer sit on the back of a pick-up
watching beautiful women and angry men
cutting the night or the morning in half
with cars that could pay a thousand funerals.
You die a thousand deaths.
13th October 2018
Hues I desired, soon abandoned my sky
As flashing thunder ignited fiery clouds
Dissipating orange glow evening sought
Turning wild winds into advancing storm
Having promised you a galaxy of stars
I stepped boldly to go where they are
But there was no moon to guide my path
As I waddled in floods pitch-blank dark
Birds had detoured to shelter and hide
Seeing ocean's ride in enormous tides
Scattering on earth a despicable plight
As upon a hill I saw a glimmer of light
Courage I found in wondrous thoughts
Knowing this was to be my only chance
Bracing the storm to go where you are
Waiting inside the tall red lighthouse
But when I made it there you were gone
Alas, I was tricked by a heartless mirage
June 11, 2018
She hid her talents in the deepest darkest recessed corner
Taking it out never, for fear of being called brilliant.
She did not want to be shunned or ostracized,
Knowing her people well
Then one day she met a stranger who coaxed her a tiny bit
Encouraged her to allow herself to be
She shook out one sliver of a slip of a talent
And began to glow, and began to grow.
clouds caress the sky
with a trail of white feathers...
grass tickles our toes
.............................................
7/13/15 For Skat's Contest: "Feathers"
Isn’t it ironic?
That the plague called the bubonic
Killed the man but not the rat
And did not even kill the cat
That caught and killed the guilty rat
Isn’t it ironic?
That in this age of the electronic
Ebola is running unabated
It’s deathly thirst left quite unslated
Just like the plague as earlier stated
Isn’t it ironic?
That in this age of progress so terrific
A plague is not spread by a rat
Nor by bat and not by cat
But by technology - imagine that!
A friend once told me
How he was fascinated by me-
By how I could walk up to absolutely
Anyone and be their best friend,
Switch cultures like t-shirts
Emblazoned with "I heart
Fill-in-the-blank..."
I'm not sure quite how to explain
How once you've observed society
For long enough you realize
That just about everyone you
Will ever meet acts just like
Your own teenage brother,
Like your mother, your father,
Like your little sister-
Like the best friend you've
Known for your whole life...
Everyone has heard the phrase,
"We're all God's children,"
But it seems like everyone
Is suddenly blind to their
Family resemblence
When one of them says,
"Que tal, manito?" instead of
"What's up, bro?"
Don't tell me that it's
Not possible for you
To communicate with
Someone whose birth certificate
Lists a country of origin
That's different from your own-
Don't say you can't pick up
New language when "YOLO"
Was not an expression that
Existed on the face of the Earth
Until a couple of years ago...
Besides, we both know how you
Always found a way to
Gossip in class, by shooting hand
Gestures and loaded glances
Halfway across the classroom-
Halfway across a globe never
Seemed all that different to me,
So maybe that's the reason
I was never fazed
By a language barrier.
“Close the book, ring the bell, light the candle.”
The witch’s words resounded in my ears.
My problems now were more than I could handle
and so I hoped she’d vanquish all my fears.
She stared at me across the darkened room
and then commanded me that I must stay
until my wish was granted. Then a broom
she grabbed, and out the door she flew away!
The magic lay in me, the hag had said.
I only had to wish with all my might.
But with my kind of luck, I might be dead
before I’d get what I had wished that night.
I sit here still; she’s left me with a curse!
No health care yet, and now my back is worse!
(sorry to belabor this, but now you see what preoccupies
my mind these days!! Linda's contests always seem
to bring out this topic for me lately. The gypsy referred to
in my title was in my last poem I did for Linda!)
By Andrea Dietrich for Linda-Marie's
"BELL, BOOK AND CANDLE" Poetry Contest
I was touched by a sweet butterfly
As it fluttered around me
Then quietly landed nearby
I could only watch to see
Where it would go next to be
A gentle, perfect creation flew
High and low from flower to tree
A magical flight moved me to be
---- Ever So Free ----
Heidi Sands
6/19/17
Placed joint 1st place in the Standard Contest 163.
I’m on the verge of losing everything
as lashing tears are thrashing ‘gainst the night
and mournful notes of black rose petals sing
from wells so deep they’ve never seen the light.
My come to Jesus moment on my knees,
I’m at your mercy in my darkest hour.
In desperation hear my praise and pleas,
the moody gloom surrounding me is dour.
These thorny thoughts of you won’t let me loose
and breathing is a fight I might not win.
High hopes and dreams in broken promise noose
from rope of human nature and of sin.
In woeful rhythm beaten heart does beat ~
my blood does sing the blues of your deceit.
Year after year, young people inspire me.
The freshness of youth brings forth curiosity.
Diversity and personality scream, it seems –
Noisily, boisterously, playfully, hope knocks.
Each child has amazing talents to unlock.
Shy ones work in silence while some classmates tease.
Others squirm around on a whim and a breeze.
Did you guess? I am a substitute teacher.
I learn something new every day that I work.
I guess you might say it is a hidden perk.
I love my work and I love to learn from many.
There was one high school boy
A class leader who loved to rap –
Talking, laughing, rapping; class behavior zapped.
I saw impending disruption; So, I struck a deal.
My clever solution was a bit surreal.
When everyone finished their work, he could rap.
Work first, then fun was my motto; he took charge.
His group of "homies” got to work right away.
The classroom was silent that wonderful day.
So, just as I promised, ten minutes at the end,
He started a beat others joined from their seat.
Line upon line he rapped words with rhyme.
Then, point to a classmate who would rap in time.
It was so much fun to see faces aglow.
When he pointed to me, I used poetry.
From that day forward, when he was in my class,
He would ask me to write a class poem, alas.
They would give me a topic and a few key words.
The students worked first; then, my poem was heard.
They would listen to my poems line after line.
I can still see his face after all of these years.
The sparkle in his eyes untangled my fears.
Years later, I was bored out of my mind.
My hip disintegrated; I was confined.
What would I do? The answer, I could not find.
I remembered that boy and that he liked my work.
It was his and his classmates’ reactions –
They influenced me to take writing action.
I joined Poetry Soup; poetry became a love affair.
I met friends, studied forms and wrote anywhere.
Paper towels or notebook paper, it mattered not.
When away from my computer, I would jot.
That boy brought the beginning; self-confidence.
His cheery influence blessed me with lifetime joy.
They liked my poems; so, I wrote thousands more.
All of this because of one young boy who will never know,
It was his good-word raps that set my soul aglow.
March 8, 2017
Written for the Poetry Contest - Younger People Who Have Inspired You
Grandma got run over by a reindeer
I'm sure you remember that song
Well that was my grandma who was hit
And again, they got part of it wrong
See, she really was run over by reindeer
But it was nothing like they said
Those deer were driving a milk truck
That left my poor grandma nearly dead
My poor grandma just got done milking
And was putting the cows back in the field
When eight drunk reindeer in a milk truck
Crashed thru the fence and didn't yield
They just kept on going thru the barn yard
Straight thru the creek and down the hill
Grandma looked like a bug on a windshield
With pieces of her wig on that milk truck's grill
Now poor grandma never seen it coming
Cause she was looking the other way
We even found that poor womans glasses
Stuck on a scarecrow near the hay
Well, now my grandma had not been drinking
Like that song had claimed she was
But somehow they try to make it funny
Seems like those city folk always does
Well, that's about as much as I can tell you
Because the lawsuit is still pending
Those reindeer got some north pole lawyer
And we heard he's pretty good at defending
So beware of reindeer driving milktrucks
For they mean to cause your grandma harm
And don't forget try to remind your grandmas
To look both ways when she leaves the barn