Best Cater Poems
Once love, or rather, that which I thought was love
Swept me over
And had me racing up on a highway
I raced up and up
Till I reached the top most part of a summit
Only to fall
Back down
Broken into pieces
With deep scars
And loose bolts
And, to my horror,
Realized that I had lost a part of me
A part which I needed most
To fit in society
To cater for myself
And to tend to life as well!
Why, at that time,
I had been running after looks
After the impulses of desires
And I had wanted
To fill up an empty space in my heart
Void and vacant, it had hurt so much!
Pray, now that I've matured
And now that I can claim to know love
Love which is so sweet
That it makes me smile at all times
Love which is so melting
That it has become not only my fort
But also my support
My strength
My cause
And of course, my sole purpose in life
Love, have I come to know
Love, runs not after that which is transient
Love, when it is genuine and mature
Caters for the blooming of both the lover and the beloved
Love allows space, makes dreams come true
And even gives way to opportunities
Love, of such kind, I have grown addicted to
For love, of such kind, allows me to retain my individuality
Respects me and has been steadily sewing up
That which has been torn in me
Pray, puppy love is just for social acceptance
Puppy love is just for a show off
To seem glamourous
And to make others envious
But love, true and genuine
Remains discrete
But reveals itself, bared, naked, disrobed and flaming
In between closed walls!
Yes, love, when made of maturity
Remains as a shadow
But becomes the main propelling force!
Tongue Study
Tongues
Steady it wags
needing to know
more, about the
the very thing that
causes wars.
peace and pain.
I study my tongue.
Much has been said
about the tongue yet
how has it pertained
to my own.
My tongue has delivered
and served, it has given
and taken, it has blessed,
it has cursed.
It has been bitten,
and it has been written,
the tongue can be tied, twisted
curt, sweet, sharp, wagging or
bragging.
It may be your
native tongue
or foreign, it may be
exciting or boring.
If quiet is your tongue
"the cat may have it".
If you use your
tongue to speak ill
of the dead, you may,
challenge a force and
be cursing your life's course.
The tongue's confession's
may sweep out
dirty secrets from the
corners of your mind.
Wise words have fallen on death
ears, words smothered by pride.
truth escaped lying eyes.
Ignoring what you saw and
twisting what was heard.
Tongues may bond
with imbeciles or angels
forming positive
or negative energy.
Be careful, mind your tongue
it is closest to your own ears
and will affect you first, rather
before the others hear.
Be not at the mercy of
an imbecilic tongue
read their eyes
and duck the darts
about to be thrown.
Do not despise the
a foreign tongue
for it is the aptitude
of the brain, the tunnel
to his bilingual, do not
expect the champions,
to cater to the dunce,
or those who can barely
master his own tongue.
In general, I have concluded
whether you live by the sword or
stand on principals, I had to
learn to manage my tongue
as I would a loaded gun.
I will not justify my tongue
when I use its power for the wrong
and neither hold my piece,
to placate the sword of the unjust.
The real power is in
the righteousness
of the speaking tongue.
For those who live by
the sharp and swarded tongue
and wield words as death
blows to the innocent,
or those who are silent,
while others suffer.
May also die
by the mighty tongue,
or by the holding of it.!
Copyright © Vicki Acquah | Year Posted 2014
How I would love to dance with you along the Naples bay,
And then escape towards our restaurant beyond the archway.
Listen, as they play love songs with gusto on the mandolin
As Peppinello prepares the dough which in a round form he'd spin.
Outside, a young lass dances with flare her tarantella.
And everyone shouts with glee "Give us more gracious Stella."
Meanwhile Peppinello always ready to cater for our taste
Suggested a Marguerita enough that would not go to waste.
And to counter the exquisite taste of our choice, a famous wine,
A red Oddero Barbera d’Alba, guaranteed to make a fine dine.
Satiated with our fine food we go for a short stroll.
The famous Castel dell'Ovo being our primary goal.
It is already deep night and on the sea stars shine bright.
Tired but happy we return to our hotel for the night.
My world changed so fast
that it caught me off guard.
I never thought I would see,
the hate and pervasive bigotry
that exists in the world today.
And then, the internet came along
and shrunk the world to fit in your phone;
opening doors that were once closed.
But, at the same time
supplied every kook, grifter, charlatan, and conspirator
festering on the fringes of society, a bully pulpit;
to cater to a select audience of like-minded trolls.
Corruption, fear-mongering, peddling lies
and alternative truths,
are entrenched in our government,
entertainment, and news.
World War Three, which was once unthinkable,
is gaining favorability with the masses;
fueled by cultist propaganda and doomsday bravado
that spreads like a virus on social media platforms.
We are polluting the land, poisoning the oceans,
and brainwashing the minds of our youth;
without any regard for the truth.
I remember a time when people didn't lock their doors:
neighbors greeted one another with smiles and waves.
But today, I fear that we've been caught in the worldwide web
of a technological spider's electronic threads,
and sooner or later, we will be eaten.
~
A weary sun awakens past the tree line o’er the hill,
chilly heavens cater to its shine
Dawning eyes now open as it’s light flows ‘long the sill,
the beauty that I see so very fine
Turning now to face me as my heart it skips a beat,
lost between the sunrise and the bliss
Taken with desire as our lips this day do meet,
perfectly a Wednesday morning kiss
Here within my arms I find temptation in your skin,
warm beneath these blankets, flannel soft
Passion swells like dew drops as my fingertips begin
sighs collect on golden beams aloft
Melodies of winter drift in whispers up above,
giggles say that dreams have all come true
As we lie together on this morning laced with love,
wonderful when they begin with you
~
With beating heart and dragging feet this dark and soulful night
I stealthily tiptoe past her window hoping - not to see her light
But bathed in luminosity she sits there in full view
My hands go clammy yet again knowing not what to do
My very own neighbour stalking me totally blows my mind
Blatant betrayal of trust is not what I expected to find
This person I befriended and in all innocence confided
Her skewed level taken is so atrociously misguided
Why did it go so horribly wrong - maybe I'm to blame?
When did I notice that it had gone way beyond a game?
It was when she started slipping notes underneath my door
Saying she was worried senseless - and couldn’t sleep before
I got home safely - it was fine - and know that she would wait
She loved me and worried that I was coming home so late
This declaration of love albeit sweet makes my skin start to crawl
I should call security to have them a special alarm install
At the door of my porch once again I find a single stem red rose
Bringing perturbations and shallow breath as this agitation grows
A fleeting shred of courage for confrontation I do seek
But just the thought of facing her sends a knocking to my knees
One day it all comes tumbling down when my girlfriend breaks my heart
Waves of sorrow wash over me when I see my love depart
Love is such a fleeting thing and my soul weeps from deep within
Scandalous thoughts I do harbor - of granting my stalker in
Tie the wedding knot - make it taut - cater to our every whim
And into her arms some comfort seek - would it be such a sin?
~ Placed First in Contest~
Contest Entry for ‘STALKER’ -
Sponsored by Silent One -
17th November 2017
Music – ‘Stalker’ by Goldfinger
Let’s fly to the celestial fiesta of the cherry blossom,
In the North Eastern Region of Shillong, named, “The Scotland of the East,
The abode of the cloud,” in the lush mesa of the magnetic Meghalaya!
The wheezing Pine forest of the whispering waterfalls in the Khasi hills,
is bustling with the nature’s fairytale of pink, white and ivory!
As far as the eyes can see, the rolling tableland is ringing, ridden by the radiant petals of cherries!
Neither Japan, nor Paris, a mere remote region of Indian plateau,
Glowing in nature’s sublime glory of pellucid picturesque pinks!
Nicknamed, Prunus Cerasoides, the cherry blossoms,
a delightful boon of Himalayas,
are blooming profusely in the magical
verdant highland of the East Khasi hills!
The November is rippling with
moonlit music, plethora of flamboyant folk dances,
pageants, stalls to cater to the globetrotters’ penchant for the ethnicity
of the fur-flung region’s tribes’ cuisines, wine, arts and cryptic crafts!
Such bedazzling is the serenity of the panaromic platonic plateau,
As folks of the vicinity, are traversing despite the rampant pandemic,
to glimpse the shangri la of the richest biome of the floral magical lane!
The resonating frolic of the chirping and twittering from the cheerful cherry bushes
are teeming with the twirling bliss, intoning,
in winters whistling whiff!
A nature’s bounty, a pamphlet of picturesque hamlets’ terrains of aromatic sensuous purity!
Blessed are they, who have witnessed the once in a lifetime scene of crystal clean roaring rivulets, murmuring brooks, the ravishing orchids, quirky root bridges, aesthetic lakes and rills, scented wild flowers, encompassing the enigmatic cherry blooms of the mystic land of the majestic mountains!
An euphoria to have a ride amidst the clouds of the misty moorlands,
gliding languidly to take the signature of the mementos of the moments;
to kiss the plateau of wild orchids, flowering Cherries and sacred woodlands of those Khasi hills,
crackling with the sprouting, cherry blossom festival of the far East!
The sun emerge from its hide, smiling bright and it glide
Promising a fine stay, for those who toil by the day
Oaks surround the landscape, as ferns add in to the grandeur
A heron’s displaying majestic pose, the farmers toil with ardor
The placid stream that flow, bearing success into the future
A land that God has blessed, with serenity he suture
The grassland spreading far and wide, down the country line we trod
Wheels turning and a group so old, no place we haven’t rode
Of sunshine state I speak to thee, its heritage and splendor bold
As we turn a bend in road, of beauty that my eyes behold.
We arrive at the marketplace, with stalls lining the street
It’s the day of harvest, where a merry crowd will meet
The stalls full and brimming, with the fresh produce
Homemade things in display, of those the villagers use.
Cheese, honey and pastas, that makes our mouth water
Pickles, meats and soaps, are also things they cater.
At night the moon peeps out, of promised passion sought
And a few but lingers, to feel the cool breeze float
From the cottages flow the sound of mellow laughter
of happy wives and kids, who are well looked after.
If you come to Soup Creek town
With any ulterior motives
Best go first to the local chapel
And light a few candle votives,
We, the citizens, have values
Not to mention a few morals
And we don’t cater to fools, or,
Like their nonsensical quarrels,
Don’t be sarcastic or snarky,
Don’t show up to criticize us
We don’t put up with malarky
We will throw you under the bus,
Sheriff Mark waits his guns loaded
Undertaker Tom has a box for you
Our Jenna will tear you a new one
And, you’ll find yourself in a stew,
We always welcome you, stranger,
Glad to see you come to our town
But best you don’t get arrogant
Or start putting our citizens down,
We always stand up for each other
Sometimes the going is tough, but,
We’re ready with guns a-blazin’
When somebody shows their butt!
Written May 23, 2022
I fear most Church steeples are drowning in sin
And like Country Clubs, cater to folks acting part,
Way too holy for sinner, too blessed to be sick,
Always blaming the victim, God’s grace a lost art.
The rich are the only ones sure of God’s love!
Though it's faux pas, reflection might still do them good.
In the poorest of sinners who wishes you well,
God embraces true saint for he's done all he could!
The rich overconfident, poor in the dumps,
God gets lost in the shuffle of privilege and blame
But the judgment of others is sin for us all,
Being rich can’t buy Halo, the poor own no shame.
If I attend church then because it is grand
Tell me how do I know I’m not worshiping wealth?
God's Word taught to grow riches or enrich the heart?
Does disciple need palace's comforts for health?
Collecting vast wealth just to hoard is a sin!
How’d you come by your talents, if not gift from God?
Do you find the best way or trust God for a plan?
Those who wait on the Lord feel OK being odd!
To find the right church though is simple in fact -
Humble is the right track, “Son of God” the right train!
You were loved long before His creation began,
Only sick people welcome, "God’s Grace" Church refrain.
Long Tooth
May 13, 2017
Manipulate the wordolator
spin it swirl it make it cater
to your whims and what you wanted
your no dreamer, you are haunted
you can't stop the rhyme you started
tell the truth you're broken hearted
send that through the wordolator
it comes out 10 seconds later
dressed in diamonds and confetti
right on course and feeling steady
pour life in the wordolator
add some spices, check it later
smooth and silky is the taste
don't let feelings go to waste
turn them into something greater
send them through the wordolator
Have you suffered past and present?
Is xistence so unpleasant?
Mold it, form it, paint it red
have it say what must be said
tears and joy and life and death
every daring, dancing breath
breathed by soldiers, kings and waiters
breathe them through the wordolator
it distills the very essence
of the living luminescence
that unites our human feeling
deep emotions send us reeling
Taker, giver, lover, hater , all
can use the wordolator. Just a dollar now on line
Money back if it's not fine.
Buy it now and Pay us later
you will love the wordolator
Form:
Afterlife Azaleas rise as apparitions
Bony Buttercups bathe in blooming moonlight
Cobweb Carnations cater to crystal chaos
Deathly Daffodils dance to the eternal dusty doors
Eerie Evening Primroses prance to ethereal exits
Frightening Foxgloves flame their foliage
Ghostly Geraniums gleam and gallop over graves
Haunting Hydrangeas heighten hollow horrors
Ivory Impatients inject inspiration to the expiring
Jumping Jack O'Lanterns jam with jazzy jumps
Kaleidoscope Kaffir Lilies knock with knowledge
Longing Leaves linger before gossamer winds
Mourning Marigolds muse misery moody moments
Nocturnal Narcissus notice nosy narratives
Occult Orchids oscillate with opulence operas
Phantom Pansies passionately prance proudly
Quivering Queen Anne Lace questions life and death
Reaper Roses reach for regal radio reservations
Skull Sunflowers stalk silky spinning sullen souls
Tombstone Tulips talk with trembling terrors
Umbrella Plants understand the underworld
Vampire Voilets voice with their teething violins
Witchy Wildflowers wax and wane with spells
Xylophone Xeranthemums x-ray cryptic blueprints
Yearning Yarrows yielding to the sobbing youth
Zombie Zinnias zip and zag zooming to the zenith
October 31st 2017
Butterfly wing door vestibule builds anticipation
Shuffled, carpet muffled greetings, familiar embraces
Piloted by Holy Spirit, seated hushed congregation
Ritual of ornate cathedral thanks hidden crypt rib cage
Enduring centuries, pliable sandstone testiment
God's following holds time proof tenacity
Flared proud corners, pyramid reminiscent
Honour continues amidst shifting society
Solid oak panelled door on wrought iron hinges
Greets round barrel key bearer with ominous groan
Down four slouching stone steps from street edge
Solo visit in sacred space never partaken alone
Curved bookcases cater for leather bound learning
Volumes of theology define best ways
Nook with desk lets liturgist imbibe God's word
Tall back chair, acorn emblems engraved
Beneath majestic vessel, clay damp chamber
Rhubarb velvet curtain, tassel tied to sides
Strongest entity relies on the Lord as Saviour
With worship's dedication, faith survives
In expansion, searcher emerges at alter, cleansed
Hive of etched arches tribute precision architectural
Vibrant robes, sashes draped, silken beacons
Of preparation, celebration of overcoming, renewal
Pulpit's ingrained memory both daunting and welcoming
Deep set lead light showers sombre pews in intimacy
Haloed Christ holds baby, shares parables with children
Crease covered hymn books strum procedural symphony
Written July 2020 (no previous submission)
Submitted for : Brian Strand
Completely New Volume 23
on 18th August 2020
I waited all night long for your expected call
Wanted to listen to it ring and ring and ring
Needed to size up what message you would leave me
Sure enough, again just meaningless and empty
Told you I needed a break and would later call
You’ll one day figure out that I will never call
You always thought my time was of little value
Because I gave you all I had and so much more
I heard you clearly laugh inside when I would say
I have no time for people who get on my nerves
You don’t appreciate how my time is precious
After all, you’ve never seen me do anything
Other than cater to each of your every need
I wear an invite to take me please for granted
A big old sign for all to see but it’s a trap
Just once I would like to stumble on the one man
The one who will outwit the ambush I set up
My trap is my one fail proof filter and my shield
Protection from relinquishing my fragile heart
Lose respect for someone entangled in my net
Like some distant relative of the black widow
Watch merciless and leave the victim there to dry
Yet a tiny piece of me dies with each dim fool
That is always the fleeting price I have to pay
AP: 1st place 2021
Submitted on February 11, 2021 for contest MY FOOLISH HEART sponsored by CRAIG CORNISH
Originally posted on January 9, 2018
The sun was blaring down
That August afternoon
When Jesse came into the town
Of Early Blossom Bloom
The sun had blistered up his skin
His shoes were worn and tired
The clothes he wore upon his back
Was all that he acquired
Jesse was a loner
Traveled light and all alone
No family he could speak of
No place to call a home
For food and basic shelter
He would trick upon the street
For a twenty dollar bill
His throat would be a treat
His body aged and weary
From the life now forced to live
A new found way of living
No man had chose to give
The effort once put forth
Strength he no longer had
To earn an honest living
A concept he didn’t have
What would come of Jesse
No trade to call his name
In life he loved so many men
Each one a different way
But love for him was just a fix
An action he would show
Not something that would stick around
And nourish his inner soul
He travels to the city
In hopes to find a friend
One last fool to take
Before giving up his sin
But in this town
There was no one
To cater Jesse’s ways
No place for him to go and stay
Or a simple bed to lay
He sat down on the park bench
As dusk filled up the sky
Weary from the journey made
In hunger he did cry
In life he played a hell of a dance
No partner came to stay
Deep down afraid
The city streets
Would be his home to stay
In Jesse’s heart was anger
For the people passed him by
Not one kind word was spoke to him
He sat alone and cried
His prayers of some compassion
Were seemingly unheard
This was life for him now
Banished from the world
He died that night a lonely man
On the park bench all alone
Laid to rest in a lonely grave
The place he now calls home
The life and times of Jesse
Now just a memory
He was a man most would forget
For shame of his company
Think back on the life and times
That Jesse brought to earth
Would you have shown compassion?
If you seen him all alone
Who is to say who is to judge
For a life lived on the streets
For Jesse it was all he knew
And all he could ever be