Best Common People Poems


Premium Member Gandhi Mahatma

His deepest belief was in truth,
His greatest faith was in God,
He was selfless in his pursuit,
Millions followed where he trod!

He wore no crown, robes or tie,
He was no king, had no kingdom,
Thin and small at five foot five,
He won his people their freedom!

He lived life about the same time,
Adolf Hitler unleashed his anger,
millions perished to Nazi crime,
But Gandhi put no one in danger.

race discrimination he boldly fought,
in South Africa as a young lawyer,
No guns or swords he ever sought,
But he lead by fasting and prayer!

He was by birth a religious Hindu,
But respected all the world beliefs,
All religions were one in his view,
They were same in their motives.

Love, peace, path of nonviolence,
were all his weapons of resistance,
Absorbing anger, showing patience,
he lead India to its independence.

Great minds, common people like us,
Called him Mahatma, a great Soul,
He was likened to Jesus and Moses,
As they revered and pursued his goal.

He fasted to unite the rioting people,
Who killed because of religious strife,
They prayed in mosques and temple,
And thay all prayed only for his life!

On a prayer morning in late January,
Two hate bullets tore his loving heart,
His life put out by ignorance and fury,
he was killed by a world torn apart!

Even several decades after his death,
His message of love shines through,
Like many prophets before his birth,
His life’s mission, to save me and you!

*2nd placement in the contest
Sponsor Chantelle Anne Cooke
Your Favorite Legend ' Contest
Written 10/03/2020
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member A Tale of Two Cities - Life Lesson

How thrilling was a novel long ago
I read for school: A Tale of Two Cities.
It tells of common people whose great woe
comes from the upper class’ atrocities.

A doctor tortured in Bastille has been released.
To London he returns and regains his health
with his daughter Lucy’s help. To the east,
things get ugly for the French with great wealth.

Two men love Lucy: Sydney and Darnay.
She weds Darnay, who’s lied about his family.
They’d locked her dad up. She forgives him anyway!
But now he has big problems. He’s nobility!

It happens that poor Sydney has a face
much like Darnay’s. Though Sydney’s never been
a man of character, he will find grace
by taking Darnay’s place at the guillotine. 

This novel shows the need for reformation
and is a treasure from Great Britain’s past.
It teaches redemption through transformation.
Dickens’ stories through the centuries will last.

Feb. 19, 2017 for Line Gauthier's Life lesson from a favourite novel
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member That Ancient Darkside of All Hallow's Eve Past

That Ancient Darkside of All Hallows’ Eve Past

As in the fabled medieval times of centuries in the deep past,
It’s time once again to celebrate the hidden ugly horror that
Seeks to infest and devour all human souls in this new century. 

Be warned that false-faced beggars shall knock at each door,
And unbeknownst to the common people that they shall meet
On this All Hallows’ Eve—all shall not be well and normal!
 
With their bloodstained masks these real Ghosts, Ghouls and 
Goblins shall shout out “Trick or Treat” as a fiend’s true cover
For something that’s sordid, unclean, ungodly, and macabre. 

Looking for a clever sweet surprise for the unsuspecting souls,
These devilish minions begin gathering and dancing wildly to
“The Dark Spirit of the Pale Hallowed Moon” on this night!
  
Shawled with the darkness of souls and their living nightmares,
Ghastly silver phantoms now seek to scare the living-death out
Of every innocent person they encounter on this darkest eve.
  
Houses are marked by an eerie orange-pumpkin-light escaping 
Into the dancing-dark shadows that hold all night-life precious,
As these phantoms move freely in the frigid breath of this night! 
 
Creating a palpable angst they begin shaking the tree branches as
Horrid and terrifying spirits of true evil and witchcraft escape into
The cold-dark ether caught up in the vile magic of Lucifer himself. 
 
Fortunately, they are tricked by the sound of an old tune playing a
Heavenly paean for knowing “What's Right From What’s Wrong,”
And warning them that the wrath of Almighty God awaits them! 

In the end, the absolute power and holy majesty of Almighty God
Served as the saving grace to this foul situation which threatened 
The innocent souls who were ensnared by these unholy phantoms.

And so, if thou doth question the probity of what hath been related to
You in this sacred narrative, then thou shall risk forfeit of your soul,
As these evil phantoms lurketh ever in the shadows and never forget! 

Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid, A Collaborated Poem 
Copyright © All Rights Reserved – October 19, 2018
(Tercet)


In An Hundred Years

In an hundred years...
Everything around us will be changed,
And everybody will be dead,
Yet, something will continue...

Will it be, as my radical leftist brother predicts,
The final takedown of Western Civilization?

Will we all rise to pray and face east?
Will we all rise and face nothing but a cup of sustainably-grown coffee?
Will the common people be able to afford coffee?

What will have become of our words, penned
 sometimes in ink,
 sometimes in blood?

Who will still read us?
Will our great-grandchildren show old, unrotatable, digital photos?

What of those of us who have no children?  Will our words survive, even a generation?

Will our poetry be sold, half-price, or clearance?

What footprints will we have left, who built no buildings, saved no lives, ended no tyranny?

Yet, I think we will survive for a generation or two,
For there are always a few who hope to feel something,
To know the grounding reality of shared human experience.

I do not pretend, they will be reading ME,
But, perhaps,
They will be reading US...

That shrinking crowd that comprises the body of
Our words made corporeal,
And one or two of us, they will remember...

I hope for nothing better than a sea,
And quiet waves that bear away once-me...

Among the Tallest Sunflowers

This youth, with its curiosity to follow dreams,
always finds us among the tallest sunflowers
that hide us from the bewildered faces
of the common people who surely envy us
for being here between sunset and darkness,
carefully drawing images of a future that could be:
choosing those colors that are a bit daffy;
and why is isolation a favorite place for two little darlings?


And that answer lies in Nature itself surrounding us
with an ideal beauty predestined for faithful lovers-to-be:
willow trees drooping to reach down to us,
brushing our sun-dried hair with their sweetest lullabies of spring;
you'll be surprised how the rascal wind teaches them to sing;
and we listen to that medley as if it were sung by humans,
and the mixed sounds enthrall us with their mellowness...
and how did the silent robins,gathered by the shady spruces, 
ever agree to hear that lovely and tender melody?   


Live, young hearts, live with a joyous spirit that sets no  limits,
be like us among the tallest sunflowers:
exchanging innocent caresses and timid kisses,
and even if your gladness turns into delight ...
never be afraid of the approaching night:
you will have the steady company of stars;
lay down, side by side, and sweetly imagine your paradise!


Vanished are the nightly shadows,
puzzled butterflies land on your shiny noses...
they tickle them until your senses are awakened,
you rub your eyelids to be dazzled by an intense glow;
is morning the emptiest promise without any dream realized?
Run, vibrant hearts, run towards the gleaming horizon miles away;
the zealous eagles will keep pace with your footsteps,
and before you reach the golden ocean with soft waves:
you'll be soaring, like them, over the crimson clouds,
and forever remember that the earth was a beautiful place for a day!


Copyright 2008 by Andrew Crisci
Form: Rhyme

Team Work

Team Work 

alteration between success and failure
astuteness to win challenges 
ability to direct individual accomplishments toward organizational objectives 
ability to work together toward a common hallucination 
drive that allows common people to attain infrequent results

distinct obligation to a group determination
different commitment to group efforts
to divides the task and double the success
adeptness to work together towards a collective vision
ability to direct individual accomplishments toward organizational objectives

hush-hush that makes common people achieve special outcomes
create the innovations that defines our professions
moving forward together
group of many hands but of one mind
the fulcrum in long term achievement

accomplishments of an organization are the results of the combined effort 
gulfs the chore and doubles the success
the power of the team is each single participant
is to lift a shingle with more limbs
T.E.A.M. = Together Everyone Achieves More
Form: Prose


William Tyndale - An Inspiring Tale

Dedicated to my pastor, Dean Andrew Cheah

Come, hear me now as I tell you a tale
An inspiring tale of William Tyndale
A man who poured out his life to translate
God's Word from Greek, not the Latin Vulgate

He fled from country to country
Living like an unsettled refugee
He had to flee to continue God's work
From his arduous task, he did not shirk

God sent him helping hands along the way
Partners in the Gospel, to ease his day
Walsh, Monmouth, Frith, Poyntz and others
Who aided the great Bible translator

After much sweat and perspiration
He finished the English New Testament
He tried to print it, but was discovered
From Cologne, he had to flee for cover

He printed copies in Worms by God's grace
They were smuggled and spread at great pace
Those were dangerous times of persecution
Having God's Word in English was treason 

Bibles were burnt, but copies increased
God's Word brought the common people release
Sweet release from the darkness of their age
God's Truth shone brightly on each precious page

In Antwerp, he was betrayed by a friend
Imprisoned for fifteen months before his end
Vilvoorde prison was a dark, cold place
In suffering, his faith was not effaced

With a noose around his neck, he still prayed
'Lord, open the king of England's eyes,' he said
Strangled to death, then burnt as a heretic
Executed in the eyes of the public

God answered Tyndale's dying prayer
The eyes of the king were opened a year later
He encouraged the distribution
Of the English Bible to the nation

Tyndale's blood was spilled upon the pages
Of God's Word that's lasted through the ages
Do we treasure the Bible we've bought with ease?
Do we value His Word in times of peace?

God's Word was brought to us with much bloodshed
How do we respond to the verses we've read?
Are our hearts burning with unyielding passion?
Passion for the message of salvation!
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Freedom's Quest

Freedom’s Quest

They bravely set sail and escaped on the Mayflower.
Those first settlers, common people from Europe,
Came ashore from the Atlantic with faith and hope.
Freedom is what they sought.
“No Bishop, no King”
Is what they said.
In a Mayflower Compact,
They established a body politic.
One quest done; four more to go

The American Revolution,
Mr. George Washington,
Independence Day.
Freedom is what they sought.
Freedom is what they obtained.
Three quests more

Abraham Lincoln,
The Civil War,
And Unity.
The cost was high
for the freedom they bought.
Three quests done

Desegregation and equality,
Civil Rights and Martin Luther King.
Bold symbols of the fourth quest.
Freedom: neither free nor cheap

Separation of Church and State,
Moral decline, War and Peace.
O’Hare says, “No Prayer in schools”.
Roe v Wade says, “It’s a woman’s choice”.
Supreme Court says, “Same Sex Marriage”.
Ever fluid, the Spiritual War is ongoing.
Symbols of the fifth quest, ever evolving.
Whether fires of emotion or literal flames,
Freedom’s Quest seems to be packaged in fire.
05052013;3302016PSContest, Where Freedom Finds the Fire                                                                              
Justin Bordner
Form: Narrative

The Supermoon

The astronomers, common people, kids are gazing
At the Super-moon that has appeared in the sky.
The super-moon is so big, so bright, so charming
That the bystanders cannot even blink their eye.

Next day, the burning furnace of the Sun will burn
The shimmering of Super-moon with its warmth.
What will change tomorrow? Will the waves turn?
Will fate of the poor change? Can death be birth?

The poor who sleep at rough footpaths of the city
Were sleeping starved in the chilly moonlit night.
They had nothing to do with the moon’s luminosity,
If the moon were bread they could eat it with delight.
© Osman Gani  Create an image from this poem.

A Monument of Greatness

Built with the sweat and blood of slaves,
the Colosseum is a monument of greatness
to testify the glorious might of Rome...
in the arena, chariots fights were awesome!


Romans cherished the stately structure to escape boredom, 
but death lurked above as gladiators heard loud cheer
and sharpened their swords hoping to get priceless freedom;
Emperor Vespasian only envisioned glory, not deadly fear! 


Who didn't like the gladiators combats?
Everybody was happy as bread was eaten...
a free gift from emperors to all citizens;
oh, they cheered when one of them went down!


Nero was one of the fairest and maddest emperors,
he also enjoyed the games held in the Colosseum
and ordered the slaughtering of innocent Christians;
didn't he falsely blame them for burning Rome?


Today, the Colosseum stands as a testimony of a great western civilization
that endured for over four hundred years allowing change and assimilation;  
wasn't it exciting living in the capital of the ancient world and shout, " Hail, Caesar! "  
while rubbing shoulders with the common people who adored his crown and scepter?
Form: Rhyme

Corruption

Corruption devours
country's wealth and resources
bringing poverty

to common people
the backbone of society
who put their full trust

on the government
to take care of all their needs
in the social sphere

social malady
infecting most officials
in public office

Kings and ministers
presidents and senators
members of congress

all vulnerable
to this infectious syndrome
affecting morals

from the highest post
to the lowest positions
corruption prevails

money and power
are great means in politics
to stay powerful

can corruption die?
how to stop this endless greed? 
for power and wealth
Form: Haiku

Corruption

Lava expelling out of a volcano is extremely dangerous and is known as an eruption,
but the wrong motive of money making is much more feared and is coined as corruption.
Many illegal path followers have forgotten the basic ideals of a human life,
due to which common people feel like their necks being attacked with a knife.
There is now a very wide gap between the vicious money makers,
and many of the innocent who are genuine and loyal hard workers.
Although corruption is the main reason behind a country earning a bad fame,
many ruthless culprits are indulging in many major scams and repeating the same.
Now a days,corruption is treated as a wide-spreading disease with no medicine,
but if strict measures are employed and followed,drastic economic growth may be seen.
People from all walks of life are literally addicted to this tool of greediness,
and in order to tackle this,it is high time for all of us to show our readiness.
Corruption is undoubtedly the most challenging task for our government,
but it is our prime duty to do our bit with a very strong commitment.

Foreign Restaurant

It is not like these restaurants in America 
with their sterile atmospheres: slick new furniture,
stylized art, ambient lights, and every angle 
rationalized to the judgment of specialized interests.
It is a restaurant filled with details, 
inviting customers to take in an experience while eating and drinking, 
to converse casually and caress senses 
with a collage of décor less convenient.

One side is open to the city, 
looking out on multi-story hotels with lush landscaping, 
palm frond trees and a pine tree 
with spreading branches and a green cloud of needles above any tourists.
Short squat curved posts hold up a wide concrete rail 
with two bouquets of flowers on it: one has small yellow blooms 
while the other has white daises mixed with tiny red blooms.
A Mediterranean influence can be seen in columns 
supporting a large opening onto the street.
It is also present in a mural painted on the wall. 
In the mural a tall woman baring her breasts 
looks down on an angel reaching out to her, 
below them is a rural town and above them two puffy white clouds.
Painted around the kitchen doorway’s edge is a grapevine.
Near the doorway a statue of a nude child blows a horn.
At his feet are a bouquet of daises and some yellow candles.
In the center of the room is a wide wood column, 
on which appears a green copper statue of a woman in a long dress, 
holding a large round bouquet of live yellow daisies above her head.

There are four groups of people in the restaurant.
Two are near the wall.
Two are in the center of the room.
All sit at round tables draped with white linen trimmed with intricate patterns.
The chairs are curved with no angles.
Two small rams’ heads are carved on the top back pieces of each chair.
Each table has a bouquet of red flowers and a large yellow candle.
Customers drink beer from green bottles and tall clear glasses.
A waiter rushes out with the empties.
A man with a dark complexion, thick hair, and mustache 
beams with friendly eyes and expressive hands 
talking about things that interest common people.
For him common, in his place of impractical details. 
For travelers far away from their bare, stripped, planned environment 
his speech has a life that is new, different, 
paced with living rather than practiced in haste.

Premium Member Penetrating the Unknown

While waiting but not watching for the sun to set, perhaps the bullfrogs are creating the shadows with their croaks, my friend screams out because he has been bitten by a fly. He is not quiet enough so the flies obtain special pleasure from teasing him. Meanwhile bluebirds skirt the lake surface like the most perfectly designed fighter planes in twos or threes and argue rising up on their tails into the air. While insects prey upon and tease the bare flesh and blood of we humans, they fear the silent violence, the sudden huge presences of these family birds.

            A larva with a leaf tip for a cocoon descends a white birch by a long thread. We free ourselves from our writings to observe phenomenon. Then thinking about dinner. The flight of J. Krishnamurti, the eagle guru says even artists (after physicists and mathematicians) may penetrate the unknown if not too absorbed in their own emotions and imaginations. We common people too who loving our wives can love everyone.

            What eyesight the bluebirds have to swoop the lake from shore for a flying insect or descend from fifty feet on a thin straw grass and return to chew absent-mindedly! Just fun having song sung among men. As for the syntax, a daisy could swing it unthinking and coast. Along the beehive rocks ants crawl on connecting interlacing instructions. All around us and inside too as if stars were unseen but present it's true. So a man desires breakfast with his lady; could it be more amusing, material or smell?

            As the eyesun descends below spun clouds, spirit or the eagle or the drum? Round. The dialectic obscure couldn't be more better said. So round and serious. To love everyone with clearer vision than a bluebird or a lake is to transcend the innocence of insect and take flight action and feed the babies of fate. Phew! Dinner outside the cocoon. I brought myself a student upon the hill or mountain and said to myself I said Obo rebop in summer sweater and what less overweight can carry test uphill so slow? Presently, reformed, informed by the bluebird's eagle spirit, clear cleanhead, I return coagulating mightily ideas the bites of insects ow! to breakfast home and everywhere unknown. Hearing bird with clear conscience echo make.
Form: Verse

Echoing Storm

by Michaelw1two

 Thought, how resounding it is,
 now that everyone is thinking
 mentation drums as mantra,
 at once each considers linking
 reason deemed illogical,
 blessed now with national rethinking
 purpose gathered within this storm,
 save our lives from sinking.

 Political misdirection's blind US,
 to the nature of this assault
 improprieties pervade the eye,
 as it strengthens through default
 weaken do the knees of all,
 as guile and greed reign to a fault
 freedom bled of denotation,
 becomes a society’s burial vault.

 Dedication to the sphere of peace,
 abandons favor of our time
 replacing is freedom's abdomen,
 ruining goodwill whilst in its prime
 boasting blubbering fuels the wind,
 infuriating is its rapid climb
 rhetoric barbs of poison fear,
 drive weak minds to morbid crimes.

 Echoes of peace, goodwill, morality,
 vanish in this swirling beast
 accrue does this wickedness,
 as we are whipped until deceased
 social clime succumbs to hate,
 common people soon are fleeced
 timorousness rules the moment,
 result, the best become the least.

 Asleep have become the masses,
 as the few control life’s flow
 living sliced to minimal pieces,
 at once in chorus all say whoa!
 condones in wild shrieking howls,
 even life can’t clear escrow
 extinction now approaching,
 our doom delivered quid pro quo.

Jan 2010
Form: Rhyme

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