Best Categorized Poems
The rest of me is categorized as others
Including "It", "him" and "her", they're me's peers
The philosophers have said it rather smart
That all "it", "him" and "her" are similar to "me''s physical traits
But differ a lot in interests and ideas:
The democratic politicians insisted that they are politically equal
And the human populationist believed: they are alive as a whole
...
But something has long confused "me" is that
Why so many of "it", "him" and "her" that "me" never knew
(in any sense, such as meeting in person
Or any relationships could possibly be existing)
I personally reckon that "me" is a unique soul
And "it", "him" and "her" are duplicates as "me"'s shadows
Because of the blood in me could never possibly be immortal
Once "me" is gone, "it" or "him" or "her" will come to continue
...
Categories:
categorized, 1st grade, humanity, image,
Form:
Free verse
Thirsty Water
I should have gone to work today but
your tongue convinced me to come
inside and play with you…to ride our
red rocket ship to the distant planet of
lust where our sensual sins are instantly
forgiven and celebrated amidst mute pleas for
gentle mercy so rightly ignored as a token gesture to
rationality and begging for more is of course
granted by the Court of No Regrets
You alone have always held the secret
key that released the chastised prisoner of
passion locked deep inside of me your taste
buds have caressed every morsel of my
body as if I were an ice cube wrapped
in honey much like the oyster swallowed
whole to tease our ravaged pendulums whose
demand for thirsty water shall be quenched at
the moment our tongues mysteriously turn ice cold
Irish
Note Author Disclaimer: to my fellow poets....these are just words
on a piece of paper and an experiment in new
writing styles/expression for me. Topic is not meant to be
abusive or disrespectful to ANY reader. Please note this poem is categorized
by me in the 'Passion' category of PS.
Categories:
categorized, passionme, me, sensual, planet,
Form:
Free verse
I wonder how aware they are,
what shadowy sense of self
occupies their brain. Perhaps
no more than a flicker
of consciousness glows
in the far reaches
of an inner dark,
sufficient to propel them
here and there for food
and find a mate,
just printed circuits of flesh
programmed for survival.
They seem content
in their grace, moving gently
through the sunlit water,
swimming towards me.
What picture do they have
of me. Am I just a shape
categorized by the level
of threat I pose, a button
for them to push to get
a piece of bread, an oddity
in their way.
And yet we are here,
knitted together in this gifted
moment, alive, each encased
in an identity, confined
to our little bubbles of being,
floating the surface
of some infinite
and unfathomable mystery
where all minds meet -
although I'm eternally grateful
that I'm not a swan,
I don't like cold feet.
Categories:
categorized, bird, mystery, self,
Form:
Free verse
I once said to a barren friend of mine,
Anyone can write poetry – it is just words and emotions combined.
It was a long time ago – but then I realized,
The ease for him, is the hard for me, we all customize.
Poetry…
Yet, a talent can be unique in such a way – that only few can be categorized,
For I know nothing about singing and dancing – try to adapt – I will be brutalized.
So what of is it with words and ideas – rhyming or not – a fun way to state?
With black, blue or green ink on paper, for poets it is a path to escape.
Art…
I once glanced over a famous piece of art,
With paint and pictures the artist created happiness and pain apart.
With colour he emphasised his love and proud,
With pictures he silently yelled his joy out loud.
Poets…
I have collected a lot of reasons to earn my discharge,
Now with Poetry… one can be amused, one can be relieved of reality so harsh.
Poets can learn, poets can teach and poets can relate to another’s theory,
We can pronouns, we can read and we can write of any topic sincerely.
Poetry…
I once told one of my barren friends,
Anyone can write poetry… that thought came to extent.
For poetry is unique and highly valued,
Poetry is used to show every poet’s gratitude.
Poetry is not just words and emotions on a piece of paper,
It is a fine description of truth, thoughts and poets using them tenderly.
Poetry is a piece of art that should be respected in a gallery,
It is the work of the artist – the poet – using nothing to create something extraordinary.
Categories:
categorized, art, meaningful, poetry, poets,
Form:
Rhyme
Humans are we with bodies of structures complex.
Death comes to all of us though in varying effects.
Flesh. blood and bone are we, held together by
sinews. Also we have organs on which we rely.
Bipeds are we –meant to walk with postures straight.
We dance and ride and run, adapting to our favorite gait.
Intelligences are we, but few have the audacity
to use perhaps a fifth of our brain’s capacity.
Mortals are we, unlike One who had the power never to be dead.
Had He not been willing, He’d not have sacrificed Himself instead.
We are a mystery. To scientists we come from evolution.
Unfaithful souls refuse acceptance of any Godly solution.
Together all as one, we are called Humanity,
but racism and cruelty show much insanity.
We are parents, siblings, spouses, and the list goes on and on.
Our ancient kin are many. By the time we’re born, they all are gone.
We are workers; we are slobs; we are losers; we are winners.
If wise, we learn that love is all, even love for sinners.
We are members of societies with presidents and chiefs,
many who start wars over differing beliefs.
We are colors of our skin, called black, brown, and white.
And even red and yellow. Such titles don’t seem right.
We are categorized by classes though most the world is poor.
The middle class knows comfort; the rich live in grandeur.
We are sufferers of hardships, of trials, pain and grief.
Joy we also know in this earthly time so brief . . .
We are our brother’s keeper, and none deserve neglect.
All we really need are love, kindness and respect.
Categories:
categorized, humanity,
Form:
List
It matters not,
how high the mountains
for we can climb.
It matters not,
how deep the water
for we can swim.
It matters not,
how thick the forest
we know its ways.
It matters not,
how dry the desert
our roots run deep.
It matters not,
how hot the fire
our armor's tempered.
It matters not,
how cold the winter
our hearts are warm.
It matters not
how dark the tunnel
our will shines bright.
It matters not
how long the trial
we shall prevail.
This is actually more of a chant, perhaps a fanatical one at that, but not a chant royal, so I categorized as dramatic verse. It was inspired by seeing the ice wall in an episode of "Game of Thrones" but then the wall became mountains and .....
DWR
Iulius MMXIV
Categories:
categorized, hero,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
he placed his dreams on a Greyhound bus trip
headed west down that interstate highway
the nectar of labor beckoned his lips
fruit of the strangest kind graced the front page
signs more telling than the constitution
categorized this creation of God
blood flowed freely from this institution
through Jim Crow and Emmett Till he did plod
this journey left his soul drenched in hunger
food passed through a crevice was not his way
holy guardians danced like whoremongers
basking in the glow of hooded forays
two bars of candy were his blessed meal
in the hands of the Lord he found a shield
Categories:
categorized, dad, father, father son,
Form:
Sonnet
I’ve no knack for hasty hesitance
In truth, I positively press-
Do you realize how aligned the planets are?
How the stars—they shine brighter,
Yes, I know it to be so!
Why do you think my pupils enlarge at the sight of you?
Can it be that when I look into your eyes,
That I know,
I know it to be so!
That the planets have aligned long ago
And they welcomed Pluto into their family again
Kiss me, hold me tight!
Don’t let the moon-dust frighten you…
I carry them on my back, you see
The remnants of the guardian’s tears
They dispel my hallowed hesitancy
You orbit around me
A wasp, tempted by sweet, supple bloom
And my shady colors have beckoned all but one
If it is your sting I will receive,
Then give it all, Sun!
For many a time have I been welcomed to spheres no longer categorized as the norm
Still I find the farther I go, the warmer I become
Pluto, take your eyes out of dreamland
Kiss me, hold me tight!
Be my moon shining in your dim-admired light
Posh are your assumptions, oh privileged planet
Welcomed to your family, I took mystery for granted
And pressed hard on my hesitancy to accept
Into pupil-filled eyes that have long since….
Wept
Categories:
categorized, allusion, identity, imagination, loneliness,
Form:
Free verse
Requiescat in Pace
Written: by Tom Wright
February 2015
At the outset,
Tears start like dew from a tender leaf,
Then transcend into a torrent;
A mind is a library of thoughts,
Neatly categorized,
Until this contrary wind blew;
Rummaging through past thoughts,
Has left me feeling careworn,
Without experience or wisdom;
As I drift betwixt illusion and realism.
Confusion is cursing my mind,
Leaving pools of passion that sting.
My innermost thoughts are pillaged
As if dementedly abducted;
A short time of elation,
Fails to rid me of a lifetime of sorrow;
If something is truly irrecoverable did it ever exist?
While seeking transition to an amended life,
I realize, that pardon sits roadside,
Going nowhere,
As long as resentment drives the car;
Categories:
categorized, death of a friend,
Form:
Free verse
Voracious Animals
Animals in nature are categorized by their feeding habits...
For the ferocious meat eaters, they are by nature carnivorous...
Their hapless preys, they are torn to pieces, gnawed and chewed....
There there are the plants feeders, the herbivores, munching and grazing in peace....
Caught between these two is the human species, meat and plants eating....
Mercilessly effective, humans devour meat and plants endlessly....
The human species, we are omnivorous in our feeding patterns....
But going viral, there is yet a 4th grouping in the human animal..
Umnovorous, a new breed of high powered and high flying human individuals...
Feeding brazenly on all kinds of money, perpetually thieving from the people...
Question remains, how do such gregarious animals feed...
Do they chew, gnaw or do they swallow complete...
All those ill gotten Malaysian Ringgit, heavens forbid?
Categories:
categorized, allegory, anxiety, confusion, corruption,
Form:
Free verse
In the name of what god
In the name of what religion
Can we shed blood?
Can we allow segregation?
How can we call a war holy?
How can we kill each other heart fully?
How can a murderer turn into a saint?
How can he take souls and well intend?
Why should we be divided by silly boundaries?
Why should we be categorized by color or countries?
Why should we differ by culture and tongue?
Will we keep suspecting each other for how long?
For how longer will we suppress our humanity?
For how longer will we justify our brutality?
When will we stop arming and start to love?
When will we realize that we’ve been foolish enough?
Humans feel empty inside
That is why they fight…..
Each other, to get rid of this life
They try to find salvation, so they strife!
We should search for happiness…..
But this is not the way
Love is happiness , hatred is dismay
Happiness is in peace, not in war
So what do we keep fighting for?
When will we actually start to “co-exist”?
This word seems to only in books exist
Is global peace just a dream?
Painfully so does it seem
Wars bring nothing but demolition
So we must stop to make a decision
Whether we make it our heaven or grave…….
This planet
Whether to love each other, or not to be …….
Even there to lament!
Categories:
categorized, anxiety, conflict, confusion, cry,
Form:
Rhyme
Tooth and Nail
In this space, this world we have created,
it is - for most – a very slippery slope
that seems – for many – to be frustrated
by this feeling – there is very little hope.
Upon the edges of this world – scars of mans
attempt – fingernails ripped from his hands.
Upon the edges of this world – craters from teeth
attempting – hanging by the skin of, from underneath.
On this world – from man’s shadows chained –
all that fate, karma, choices made, nothings gained,
for in the end, what is it that will remain ?,
that when we look back, be considered sane.
My words, my thoughts dance to a different drummer,
this places me on the outer edges, making life a bummer.
Life seems to exist on the fringes of winter – seldom summer
sings its songs to my ears – seldom a joyful hummer
will I be, for you see, I dance to a different drummer !
Doing so, I can find no band in which I might play
because my tunes touch most, reach none – nothing stays
categorized, for me – no place to belong – stark are my days.
In this world – life for me – to be on my own.
Journeys, adventures – life for me – all alone
as I fill my days – empty – in my little home
with little light reflecting from my shiny chrome.
And so, for those who care, or care to see ?,
there is little I say, I feel, that could be
a full representation, a complete picture of me.
Lost in the subconscious blackness – an obscured sea.
B. J. “A ” 2
March 3rd 2006
Categories:
categorized, introspection,
Form:
Rhyme
A place saints gather to give thanks and praise to Jehovah
Where we all look unto our maker for answers to life challenges
We gather corporately on Sundays to honour the Sabbath day
Do you frown at sinners in the assembly?
Don’t you know Jesus never casts anyone away?
For it was because of sinners He came on a journey to the earth
Reconciling us back to the father of all Spirits
The perfect Love that casts out all fear
What sin are you involved in or have you committed?
Has sin or guilt kept you away from God?
Think again and don’t let the devil steal from you twice
God hates the sin but not the sinner
Jesus waits for you patiently
Preparing a huge banquet for you
Like the prodigal son
His mercies are forever new every morning
Again I ask what is the sin or guilt that keeps you away from God
Jehovah’s love for us is unimaginable
For his Love covers multitude of sins
Confess them: Repent of them
Remember He casts them into the sea of forgetfulness
Hear me! You who have categorized yourself as one that does not merit Gods love
Even I myself doesn’t merit Gods love
Are we not all sinners?
I might have even been a chief sinner just like Apostle Paul
Who persecuted Christians thinking it was the work of God
The Lord is inviting you today; back to His house
Back to the assembly of His saints
Waste no more time my friend
Weep if you have to, pray if you have to, but after you are done
Step out with a Jesus swag
Swaging right back into the ever opened arms of Jesus
Our Loving and merciful father. Heaven awaits you
Selah
Categories:
categorized, beautiful, bible, care, cheer
Form:
Light Verse
I apologize for the lies, I used for my disguise.
I must learn not to sympathize, but to empathize.
‘Cause my negative actions terrorize the people who I idolize and/or prize.
Therefore, I realize the fact I have to revise, minimize and sterilize my life, because of this, music is my sunrise, but only my passion for music can end my self-destruction or demise.
Therefore I need to rationalize my choices so I don’t get categorized or characterized and criticized for my evil side in which is the side of me I despise.
Therefore I vocalize (sing) and verbalize (rap),
To visualize my arise for being wise in my attack.
To recognize, penalize and exercise the poltergeist
or evil spirit which advertised the sin and lies of rap.
This is my attack, to rise, ‘cause rap today is
built on lies, so utilize your gifts and talents
to surprise, neutralize, baptize and revolutionize
a world of demise and introduce a world of facts.
I don’t wanna dignitize the world of media’s lies.
A true rebel today goes against the norm of the idolize of merchandise.
So be a true rebel and change today’s world of media. Listen to the message ‘cause the truth underlies.
So get this message because it mystifies.
These following I don’t wanna’s are mine and try to see my life through not yours, but my eyes.
1. I don’t wanna be locked up, I just wanna go home.
But I keep on doing wrong, that’s why I sing this song.
2. I don’t wanna cry no more, but I’m so depressed. But I’ve witnessed blood and gore, these feelings I express.
3. I don’t wanna be alone, I just wanna have my own. I will always sing my songs, trying to right my wrongs.
Categories:
categorized, forgiveness, inspirational, life, recovery
Form:
Enclosed Rhyme
A gardener, I became by chance
a purposeful man with detailed plans
With a thought for each exigency
and a strategy for each contingency
I organized and theorized
I categorized, I normalized
I estimated and resized
and finally, I stabilized
I did this from a calm perspective
all done with the express objective
to prepare a comprehensive list
for mitigating potential risks
I worked, I worried,
I watched in horror
as my garden finally failed to bloom
Where did I fall? Which step was missed?
What miscalculation wrought this doom?
I sat in thought
(and deep in shame)
that what I'd wrought
had somehow failed
What was the task I had not caught?
(Or, was there something else to blame?)
Gantt chart, always at the ready
I began again, to make a plan
Pen in hand, as ever steady
a logical, beast; a thinking man
No change; no matter what I tried
the garden was again in ruins
at wit's end then, I simply sighed
and whistled doleful, mournful tunes
But then, a sunbeam warmly shone
upon my face, right through the pane
as I looked, I saw the rain had gone
that was the point, that I grew sane
I ministered lovingly to my plot
with patience and humility
gratefully accepting what I got
and forgetting old futility
No more planning, no more flailing
I saw the sun and rain as friends
Loving both despite their failings
and thankful for what each one lends
I watched in peace my garden grow
my focus reduced to just a glance,
indebted for what I'd come to know
that all things truly come by chance
Categories:
categorized, anxiety, caregiving, garden, imagery,
Form: