Best Circumvent Poems
To the little machine, that's so hard to clean
And sits alone on the shelf,
I'm thankful to you, for that potion you brew
That turns me into myself.
You may be a squatter, but I still give you water
Some grounds and then flip a switch
My steps I retrace, brush teeth, wash face
Come back and drink 'til I twitch
You're always ready, you drip so steady
And that smell is heaven sent.
You always work quiet and help with my diet,
My hunger you circumvent.
I have heard you stutter, sometimes spit and sputter
But in truth, that's all on me
If I do my part, then simply push start
Then you do the rest for free.
You start everyday helping me find my way
As I wake in my early brain fog
Then at noon, then night, you continuously delight
You're my hero, my silent demigod
Life wasn't the same before you came
I just couldn't seem to wake up
So here's to you and all that you do
A Toast! Hang on, let me fill my cup.
Daniel Turner
2/22/23
There once was a fox, as wise as can be,
He lived in the hollow of an old oak tree.
Not so very far from an ol’ Farmer’s Farm;
A farmer he knew would do him great harm.
Also, on that farm lived a lively young goose,
And he caused the fox’s dry mouth to juice.
Without a care, the goose gandered about,
Causing the fox great apprehension, no doubt.
One day they met at the edge of the farm:
The goose knew, for sure, the fox meant him harm.
Mr. Fox, I know you can eat me, he said,
But, I know a better way you can be fed.
The farmer has many an egg you can eat,
and they are more juicy than feathery meat.
I’ll tell you just how to gain your supply;
as quick as a wink, or the blink of an eye.
The farmer is rich and he doesn’t have need
for all of his wealth, and all of his greed.
We poor of the earth, he cares not about:
We should take eggs from the lecherous lout.
Sure, he feeds us, and quite well in fact,
But he profits from the sweat of our back.
We animals are brothers, and should take heed
About each others wants and each others need.
You can sneak around by the ol’ mill gate,
while I distract the hound, down by the lake.
His threat to you I shall circumvent,
and you can then eat to your hearts content.
The sly ol’ fox, he surmised this odd tale:
Hen’s eggs were delicious, he knew quite well.
Oh, this we will do, he quickly agreed:
Eggs, he knew, were quite delicious indeed.
So, the goose set off, the hound to distract,
And also the fox, to the mill gate out back.
But, the goose had another plan in his mind;
A problem solution of a far different kind.
He enlisted the hound in his subversive trick,
To solve the fox dilemma finally and quick.
He sent the hound round to the ol’ mill gate,
Leaving himself to just piddle and wait.
Then suddenly upon him with claw and tooth
Pounced the fox, ‘fore he could honk or hoot.
In this moral lesson we all can deduce,
Why no-one says: “he’s as sly as a goose”.
The SLY fox knew: “If the goose would betray
the farmer that feeds him, he will betray me too.”
Lionel
May you call to mind cherished lullaby, or prayer,
something tried and true, when it seems no one is there.
Sound and reason, oft times, circumvent the ear
when the shadows drown to expose our every fear.
May you memorize every word in heart and mind
with the melody and its time not far behind.
Soul may weep with tears if the spirit's well-aligned,
but this one-two punch is a plan of good design.
It makes silent that which torments, blinds our view;
stops us drinking from that toxic monster's brew;
chases misery with heartfelt plea anew ~
In the act, we call to arms His whole darn crew.
Let the song console you, mitigate your woes;
as you ruminate, let it soothe your weary soul.
Sing aloud or silently to tempo slow
as your earnest prayer clears a path to daybreak's glow.
Never judge, it's ours to do with as we please;
as we stand, we fall to frail and fragile knees.
Bumped and bruised, we long for modicum of ease,
yet such sweet collapse finds us lost in stormy seas.
You've escaped the depths, you can do it once again,
and again, my friend, if you must. Do not give in.
You are stronger than you ever could conceive.
When you have a choice, choose hope. Always believe.
2/17/2023
How might you feel if you chose life that strayed away from discontent?
I wonder, would you smile awhile or hatch new schemes to circumvent?
Do you believe we have the choice to “live!” despite our circumstance,
and love our lives through thick and thin; even in our sadness, choose to dance?
Would you deem it possible to find sweet blessing through the pain;
conceive that with our every breath, we may find hope to thrive again?
Might you choose a path that suits you better than the one before;
consider change; rearrange one piece to open unseen doors?
Could you imagine, would you
imagine
just for laughs or on a dare;
can you picture
everything
within your grasp?
Pull up a chair!!
Now, listen up, and listen good ~
This life awaits; it calls for you!
Now grab it with those filthy paws,
and show us all that you can do!
Go for it !!
*Slightly edited since posting... an old piece that really needed it. Thank you for your patience :)
I want to share a bit of info I think everyone should know.
It may make life a little easier as through life you go.
People come equipped with a number of traits, good and bad;
With some that will delight you and some will make you mad.
The two traits here I mention are unpleasant to come across
And they can leave you frustrated, your temper up for toss.
But if you'll just step back and breathe a minute, maybe two,
Your composure you will gain back by following this clue.
Other people are never jealous of your negativity;
They are only jealous of you for your 'quality'!
Others do not envy what 'you' have 'not';
They envy what you 'have' that 'they' haven't got!
Jealousy and envy are nothing more than 'inverted' admiration;
Do yourself a favour, turn 'em around, and feel the liberation!
Accept these traits as compliments, for in essence it is true,
And by graciously accepting, they'll have more to envy you!
If you always keep this in mind, yourself, you will spare
Any grief or anguish you may feel when either's in the air.
Though jealousy and envy are projected with much ill intent,
If you receive them as blessings, you'll wisely circumvent.
But if you're on the other side and you're the one doling out
This jealousy and envy, remember to what you're giving clout.
If you're envious and jealous, you're harbouring admiration,
Like the negative of a picture, undeveloped captivation.
Oftentimes in life it's easier if we cultivate an objective
To seek a different, better way and change our perspective.
Whenever we can change the negative, give it a positive spin,
We reap the benefits of and the reward is then, a win.
Written by Artsieladie/Sharon Donnelly
©2017-05-08 14:27:00 (EST)
All rights reserved.
If my mind were a war torn map and anxiety an invading force
A thorough search of my cerebrum would avail no remorse
Is there a hoard of grotesque assailants standing at the border
Or do I suffer from tensions dispensed by some mental disorder
None the less I attack first with nothing but the element of surprise
No weapon, no armor, no countrymen, just a crumbling enterprise
I swing my sword in the direction of the pale ghost filling the night
Cutting to ribbons the notion that I released a lost dog in the fight
Misfortune is mine as the battle rages in the back of my optical lobe
Fixated on the fact that there is a fixed fight at the end of the road
Without negligence I execute the figure who seems to be orchestrating
The darkened world in which I have been unsuccessful in navigating
With a cough of blood his mouth released a final exasperating word
A man cannot win when he cannot escape falling on his own sword
It took years of tears, torture, trials and tribulations for me to see
Thine own enemy I could not circumvent was me and my “anxiety”
A tragedy sparkles within the confines of love
When the chemistry is gone, the history does not matter
Moments of sanctification in the arena of love can disappear and
This is the darkness that is always present in the realm of love
When the chemistry is gone, the history does not matter
My convictions walk in truth
I stretched an element of brokenness through time
We became a symbol of nothing
Folding our hearts
Because the path of mediocrity was upon us!
In pain, I am content
This is no time for me to circumvent
As I lament my love for her
I sit here writing about the elements of this episode
The scent of her division was a
Fatal element of her decision
Through trial and error
I saw the terror of misplaced love
Now I know that
When the chemistry is gone, the history does not matter
In pain, I am content
I sit here writing about the negatives and positives of love while
I understand that when the chemistry is gone
The history does not matter
Mark Frank
Copyright 2010
ELIZABETHAN LOVE PASTICHE
I will pluck Parmenter from your orchard bower
And taste it’s Ambrose and the scented flower
There we shall pass a brief but blessed hour
While I sup your essence sweet piquant and sour
Lest passing time should look on us to glower
And curse us so no more we may have power
To circumvent the fates and they devour
Our consecrated rapture that they scour
16 July 2019
Changed climate is not a surprise
With drilling for gas on the rise
Where can life forms hide
From carbon dioxide
And methane let loose in the skies?
Neo-druids auger gas wells
And add fluids with sulfurous smells!
Are poisons they've tapped
With their magic wands trapped
Evermore by sorcerous spells?
Votes and news seem not relevant
The unrelenting elephant
In all our best rooms
Is fossil fuel's fumes
And toxins we can't circumvent
Heartfelt hugs envelope the soul
Overjoyed reunion circles the mind
Magnetic pull welcomes to come home
Extraordinary warmth gives peace sublime
Satisfying joy uplifts once again
Worthy memories escape the gray
Enticing thoughts circumvent the synapse
Entertains every emotion of love
Taste joy and see that it is good
Harmonious days filled the lives
Outstanding reminiscence in mind's eye
Mesmerizing cognizance lingers still
Ecstatic feelings felt at home sweet home
Inspired by John Hamilton's contest
Written: Sunday January 31, 2016
Who or what was this Gretna Green? I oft' did ponder
And English heroine or a fetching greensward? I oft' did wonder!
I learned on my bewildering computer and with my 'cyclopedia at hand,
'Tis a village amid the brae and heather in the South of Scotland!
The Scots are renowned for their haggis and kilts of tartan plaid,
The elusive Loch Ness Monster and the finest whiskey to be had!
Lesser know is the village of Gretna Green and its colorful past,
Where hordes of couples fled to wed without being harassed!
In 1754 the Brits passed A Marriage Act that changed the town forever,
Decreeing if under age twenty-one, from their folks they could not sever.
Soooo, if neither could obtain the necessary parental consent,
Off to Gretna Green they'd elope - this grave restriction to circumvent!
Gretna Green is the first town just north of the English border.
There, lovers fled to unite their lives sans parental warder!
The blacksmith on a road called "Headless Cross" was their destination;
There, an "anvil priest" legally hitched them up with little hesitation!
The "anvil" has since become the symbol of Gretna Green,
Since at the blacksmith shop is where eloping couples would convene!
There, the "anvil priest" "forged" a union that each did cherish,
Leaving enraged mums and dads seething back in the local parish!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Mesmerizing distances circumvent
skyscrapers magnificently manifested
to the utmost degree
Diverse people dance
through escapades delight.
Manhattan Island floats
amidst extreme chaos
beyond a preponderance
of serenity's turbulence
perpetuating dreams galore.
The center of the Globe -----
The capital of the Empire ---
It draws tourists
with a flow of languages
tantalizingly surreptitious
delving into psyche manifestos
bewildered by temperance
mimicking captivity
A unique Beauty
transports you to
imagination's diamonds.
The Coming Of The Day
Prayers sent,
Tears spent,
Strength lent,
Pipeline to be circumvent.
Broken Promises and lies,
Uniting of many tribes,
Waiting for a judge of man to surmise,
And Great Spirit to decolonize.
Black Snake of greed,
You thought we were a "vanishing breed",
The reptile met the spirit steed,
Oil is not the Native creed.
Upon treaty lands you slither near,
It is songs and prayers that you will hear,
From prophecies and spiritual seers,
You crawled into the Standing Rock sphere.
Where Sitting Bull's spirit dwells,
Where Crazy Horses' courage compels,
And Chief Gall's stands still and rebels,
Sacred Lakota parallel.
Disturbed graves and uncovered bones,
You really should have left them alone,
Together the eagle and condor has flown,
The dead are not powerless nor are they gone.
We've been waiting on you for centuries now,
Since the birth of the white bison cow,
To you we make our own avow,
The sacred tree lives and we are the boughs.
What Wovoka spoke was all true,
The buffalo's return gave proof,
The Father says so and it is long overdue,
And now you have much to hitherto.
Evolution’s Speed Bump
by Odin Roark
From history did we come
Perpetuating evolvement
Did we not
Yes
We’ve learned our lesson well
Mixing and matching genes
To circumvent ourselves
Arriving at the worldly coliseum
We battle for blood and death
Salivating and fist pumping
We want…
We wish…
Seldom what we need
Yet we forge and sharpen
Our out of control desire
For everything of anything
Leaving DNA scratching its head
“We put up centuries of twist and shred
For this?”
Of course
Minds of a higher purpose
Will someday stopover
Check us out
And pity the evolved mash-up
We’ll greet our planetary visitors
With “Welcome aliens. We are your masters.”
And completely miss
Their dissing of such nonsense
As they leave their rest stop
And move on to another galaxy
So much hope for understanding bright,
Larking sombrely, vertical as a servant,
Reluctance explained, quite irreverent,
For the first time feeling justified, right,
No matter the obliqueness of my plight;
But I could not certain issues circumvent,
Even though I risked an unstable mind,
Nearly there, almost ninety percent tight,
But not completely at the table spread;
I pull myself together with both hands,
Facing the community, my world given,
Steadfast guardians need a talking bed;
Conversation is sway and will enliven,
But disappointment visits me in strands.
Rhoda Monihan
Poetry form: Italian sonnet
5th November 2015
For Contest: Dancing With Description