Best Compensated Poems


Premium Member Of Grief and Pain

Grief I have known little of.
It’s not as if I ever lost
my one true love.

One brother taken in his prime
saddened us, and yet I know
we’ll see him in good time

My father - two years ago -
passed away, but a stranger was he to me.
Grief too difficult I’ve yet to know.

Yes, great grief I think has yet to be my bane.
I’m compensated physically instead
with chronic pain!

April 23, 2021
(thanks for the reflection you had us do on grief)
For Line Gauthier's Grief In 12 Lines Or Less Poetry Contest
Categories: compensated, grief,
Form: Rhyme

Women In Military Service For America Memorial

Oft overlooked veterans,
of EVERY American war
The Medal of Honor, 
one woman only ever wore.*

Women in Military Service,
a concept slow to grow.
Unrecognized, under-compensated,  
yet, always there, always ready to go.

A Memorial to Women in Military Service,**
a concept slow to grow.
In every war, everywhere,***
they are always ready to go.

Please join me in well-deserved salute
to these mothers, sisters, lovers
and wives; usually unarmed, always brave.  
Many died alongside men — the traditional soldiers.


*Only one women has been awarded the United States of America's Medal of Honor: Mary Edwards Walker (Civil War).  How Many more deserved it? 
**Located in Arlington National Cemetery
***If you are not US Citizen, please recognize the women veterans of your country, I'm sure there are many.
Categories: compensated, tribute, veterans day, ,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Stud From the Spud State and the Red Dragon Damsel

Marry Your Best Friend To Get the Best of Both Worlds

Not many can claim they met their spouse in a battle of wits
much less the fabled (don't believe a word of it!) Internet.
But my uncle, he's not many. And my new aunt? Well she's a keeper.
And it wasn't love like a summer fling --- but it goes much deeper.
The rumors you heard - it's all too true - they met on Online Scrabble:
sesquipedalians by heart, but in the strictest sense, true Word Warriors.
Her last turn was an "I Do"... and when it came, he knew that he was done for:
pussyfooting through the back door, the tenacious Triple Word Score.
The date was planned - his bachelorhood canned. Compensated on Christmas day,
a wifie from Wales to tie the knot with my uncle the Stud from the Spud State.
The Red Dragon Damsel flew in (too strong to be distressed) into my uncle's country life.
(I still remember his clenched fists pouring buckets at the altar ... his first love)
And she brought her little Dragoness, too --- a fiery spark named Emily.
My job was to walk my new British cousin down the aisle,
as she whispered to me, "Should we link arms?"
And though I should have said,  "What's the harm?"
instead of a rather robotic canter --- it now brings a smile.
My lovely Aunt Laura wore an eggplant dress, as if too challenge the mountain majesty
that peaked through the church window of that fine Idahoan morn.
Her glorious entry introduced by a Celtic song that would have made Enya weep,
as the vertigo of vows came to a close like a caged bird being released.
Mariah Carey's famous Christmas hit took to life --- All I Want Is You, rang true,
as they took each other's arms to dance celebrating an unlikely circumstance.
Crossing oceans to become One: she from Barry, and he from Boise.
The After Party --- filled with giggles, tears and rip-roaring stories from every point of view.
The wedding cake (believe it or not) was a Scrabble board:
one slice was Congratulations - and though a bit silly, to me it was poetry.
And my uncle - you could tell - was simply dumbfounded
as she took the words right out of his mouth

... with a crumb-filled smooch.



Written February 27th, 2016.
For the My Wedding Day Is Special Because... hosted by Olive Eloisa Guillermo

NOTE: I've never been married before, so I hope writing about my uncle's wedding instead is acceptable.
Categories: compensated, adventure, beauty, blessing, devotion,
Form: Narrative

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Doing Good

DOING GOOD
   

“Tired am I”, 
You told me the other day my friend, 
“for many good deeds have I been doing for so long 
but 
recognition for my contribution haven’t I received 
any, why?”

Here is my reply to you, gentle friend of mine
Written with the tenderness your kind heart has come
So well to know,

Tell me:

Does the sun care to be appreciated for the affection it
Embraces the earth
Or 
For the caresses its rays so abundantly dispense to 
Each mountaintop? 

Does the cloud request a reward for the load it carries   
In its bosom       
Or
For the drops of rain that so kindly bestows onto the 
Arid ground? 

Does the earth seek payment from the seed when into
Its soil planted
Or 
For the fruits the trees so bigheartedly distribute, rebellious 
Stomachs to appease?  

Does the bee demand compensated to be for pollinating
The flowers
Or
For producing its divine honey that even the immortals so
Much enjoy?

Does the wind ever insist on any fee when through the 
Leaves whispers 
Or
For when the murmur of brooks and the melody of singing
Birds transmitting?

Shouldn’t we, my loving friend, inspired by nature’s unselfish 
Examples be
And 
Share our soul’s wealth, expecting nothing in return, from our
Fellow humans?

And finally

Is there anything we could ever think, nobler and holier to be, than
Lord’s will, we to be doing?



© Demetrios Trifiatis
   11 NOVEMBER 2013
Categories: compensated, care, love, world,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Stay

Be not impassioned faith that fails to stay
when driven back and beaten to the ground,
then compensated with a weed bouquet
or self-lamenting gift of thorny crown.
Be not the selfish soul that trips and falls
while treading down the mossy path you've laid -
avoiding faithful friends when last they called
and fearful of the truth you now evade.
Arise and brush self pity from your brow;
you are the child of all that God has sown,
and all the gifts with which you are endowed,
bequeathed from each and all that you have known.
   So stay, now humble, in this wind so strong,
   respectful of the paths that lead you wrong.

English Sonnet
Categories: compensated, inspirational,
Form: Sonnet

Lone Wolf

It must have been a difficult journey;
The path your life has taken;
To make you not trust another;
And left you feeling forsaken.

In bitterness and anger;
For past wrongs and betrayals;
You keep a safe distance;
So if approached you would avail.

The wound inside your spirit;
That mistrust will not allow to heal.
Is compensated with fears and doubts;
And prevents your heart to feel.

For you vowed that you would never;
Get close to anyone again.
For a heart that has been broken;
You spend your life in defense.

Lone wolf is what you are;
destined to be alone;
Fearing love and intimacy;
Making nowhere your home.

The only one you truly punish;
For the hurt you feel inside.
Is the wolf who shies from happiness;
Because of a wounded pride.

~ Darlene Doll Smith
Categories: compensated, betrayal, love hurts, native
Form: Rhyme


Incineration of Love God Madan Cupid 28

Incineration of Love God Madan (Cupid) 28
Originally written in Hindi by my late father Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor
1899 to 1994. The work was written in Hindi somewhere around 1965-70.

Editing and English version by Ravindra K Kapoor.

Hindi Title  ‘Madan Dahan’ 28


How the destruction would ever be,
Compensated by construction,
And how the loss of entire creation,
Would be restored to its origin.

Sensuously generated consciousness,
Is keeping everyone, active,
Keeping it it's mighty womb,
The unique power of Almighty.

Under the umbrella of attachment,
Love and delusion flourish, O Lord,
They acts in the life of man,
As the God's protector of manliness.

Ravindra
Kanpur India 21st May 2012

To continue…..
Protected under the copy write provisions of Poetry Soup as per US laws.
Categories: compensated, inspirational, hindi,
Form: Epic

Premium Member To My Parents In Heaven

Years go by and memories dim and fade
Many, once so close and familiar are gone
Most of them have faded into oblivion
But those of whom one can never forget, stay on

Oh, dear Appa (Dad) and Amma (Mom) in Heaven
As the days of Christmas draw near, memories parade 
Not in an orderly queue, but in a jumbled mass 
And your loving faces, before our eyes, flash, and fade. 

Leaving inerasable memories, you departed in silence.
When sick or unwell you always wrapped us up in prayer
Now you stay in a place untouched by stain or strain.
From there, you watch over us with tender care. 

When festive days arrive, we miss you so badly
Though days and years pass, we feel you so near 
But we know, you cannot come down from your sphere
To be with us on this day to give us cheer

So, transcending the boundaries of space and time
Our hearts rise high to your loving presence
Where you stay secure from all sadness and sorrow
And abide with your Heavenly Father in perpetual jubilance

We see you celebrating Christmas with Jesus
Along with the ethereal throng in great joy and mirth
Kneeling by the throne surrounded by angels and seraphs
Listening to their celestial choir, glorifying the holy birth

On this festive day, we send you warm Christmas wishes
Wrapped in memories of the times we were so deeply loved
With loads of gratitude for the warmth you gave to last a lifetime
With an assurance that we will live up to the ideals you avowed 

Though gone, every day we feel your presence,
Especially when lonely and lost, unable to find our way.
At the rim of the far-flung sky, we see you as two stars, 
Blazing our path with the trail of light you shed on our way!

_______________________________

(My parents made a compatible pair 
Being together for long 57 years, as man and wife
Far from perfect, yet complementary they fared.
One’s weakness compensated by the other’s strength
One’s rigidness indemnified by the other’s light heartedness
Graced with a rich sprinkle of compassion and piety, 
With their strict adherence to the lofty ideals of life,
They set the solid foundation for our value system.) 

_____________________________

Dec. 12. 2022

~Placed Second~

Christmas in Heaven Poetry Contest
Sponsor. B.J. Legros Kelley
Categories: compensated, appreciation, christmas, true love,
Form: Rhyme

Epitome of My Existence

I am the epitome of my existence
I do my own thing unlike others and thats what makes me different
If u dont like what u are hearing then close your ears
but if you do then listen
Because i may be spittin something that you are missing.
SOme are waiting to rise
while i have already risen
and i have dealt with the scars from your inflicted incisions
NOw i spit many bars and some say i spit prisons
My regurgitated
words are rated
far worse than curse words are stated
and if you dont like my verse' words then hate it
because my complex verbiage make the mind feel complicated
Complexly rated
Maliciously compensated
now my thoughts have congregated 
My knowledge grade A 100% concentrated
Poetry is my sixth sense and that what makes me different
And that is why i am the epitome of my existence!!!
Categories: compensated, life, song-visionary, words, me,
Form:

Premium Member Lady Typhoon

Tempestuous gales imbued the horizons about
Thunder and lightning charged the dense sky
Watching shards of a rainbow swiftly fleeing
Flashing blacks and greys permeates the eye

Forsooth the heavens were vexed with rage
Hearken to the voices of the gods this day
Echoing through the mountains and valleys alike
There was no denying this mighty display

Expeditiously it came, like a furious beast
With a hefty breath, it suddenly dissipated
It was as if, the gods had been satisfied
Some way or another, they had been compensated

Within a heart beat, the birds took flight again
Flying in the wind, for now, they were immune
The elements now all calm, brewing in their guise
Don't play with this woman, she's a wild typhoon
© White Wolf  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: compensated, metaphor, weather, woman,
Form: Rhyme

White Space On Paper

Hoping everyday there will be a vicissitude in your thinking.
Irritation and repose.
Waiting.
For a text, a call, reticence.
White space on paper.
Empty.
I drank your wine.
I reveled in your game.
Laid nude and bent over your couch while you created rudiment on the floor beside my foot.
Vessel.
Held my breath, eyes shut while you finished yourself.
Watched you cook steak on the grill.
Men get hungry or sleep, you were hungry and I have told you;
I don’t eat red meat.
You tell me to retire myself from cooking because our duties are equalized though our genders are not.
I ate the steak.
Copious house, sizeable paycheck, exiguous man.
Microbic consort.
Missed appointments.
“You should have reminded me….” you say
But I know anything important is worth remembering or writing down.
I am sullen.
In life I am compensated to remind men of various appointments. 
“Could you jot this down…….remind me on this date….”
Though it’s not my berth, my disposition to succor puts me in this bearing, and in my own dash, I don’t find gravity to prompt a man that we have a reservation once every few weeks outside his couch.
I won't ask again for what I demand in whole; time, allotment, an epoch.
Time spent unbent over leather couches in precarious manners, minds soused with wine.
I am letting you go.
I am detestable, inconsequential. 
You are pulchritudinous and astute.
White space on paper.
Someone is waiting to write me a poem.
Categories: compensated, aubade, break up, dark,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Pride of Our Native Land

Four legged people are indispensable and pride of our native land
With a pair of forelegs, they move forward with their gifted mind
They completely compensated their weaknesses with their creative hands
Making native products and handcrafts for tourists to buy in souvenir stands




Nov. 17,2012


*pair of forelegs means the pair of crutches/the four wheels of a wheelchair

Note: 
A dedication to physically handicapped brothers and sisters who shared their aesthetic skills in making native products, art works or handicrafts being sold in different beauty spots of our country.

8th Place Winner
Contest: Four, For, Fore
Judged: 11/22/12
Poet Sponsor: Debbie Guzzi
Poet Sponsor
© Len Gasun  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: compensated, dedication, hope, inspirational, uplifting,
Form: Rhyme

The Solar System

Among his siblings Mercury is fast,
Compared to Neptune who is always last.
Venus is always extremely hot,
While life-supporting Earth has a comfortable spot.
Mars’ surface is very rocky,
About his size Jupiter is cocky.
Saturn is always surrounded by his rings,
While Uranus is strange because of many things.

With each other the planets compete,
With the special things each of them keeps.
And each of them has compensation,
For something each has wanted since its creation.

Mercury’s small size is compensated by his speed,
While Venus’ poisonous atmosphere makes beauty her greed.
Earth may be a planet considered small,
Yet this blue and green marble sustains all.
Mars is much smaller than Earth,
But canyons and mountains are his mirth.
Although Jupiter may take years to orbit the Sun,
His large size gives him lots of fun.
Saturn is inferior to Jupiter in more than one way,
But his lovely rings and moons surround him and he feels okay.
Uranus feels odd, spinning on his side,
Around the Sun, he is compensated by a lazy ride.
Though Neptune is known for his furious tides,
At least he does not roll on his side.

The planets orbit one of many stars,
Like the center of a racing track circled by cars.
They circle a yellow star having lots of fun,
Their parent star known as the Sun.
© Rayna Loh  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: compensated, space, star, may, star,
Form: Personification

Reparation

Poet: Ken Jordan
Poem: Reparation
Edited by: Sparkle Jordan
written: July/2014


Why  can't we 
get paid?

We want 
our
reparation,

for 
lost wages
of
our labor,

since
the
Atlantic Slave
Trade- began

Reparations
for pain 
and
suffering,

from being 
auctioned 
as 
commodity,

to
racist
White men -

We were sold 
off,

to 
different 
slave owners,  

displacing us
from our 
mother, father, 
sister, 
and 
brother, forever -

We demand
to be 
compensated,

for our
separation 
from 
family -

We want reparation
for
false imprisonment 
as slave's.

Why can't we 
get paid?

What we want
is
Retroactive Reparations -

It's the only 
way

that 
we can
catch up 
financially,

to 
the descendants
of 
white slave owners,

who profited 
from 
our hard labor.

We want 
to be 
compensated,

from 
1619 to 1865 -

 246 years of slavery.

Why can't we 
get paid?

Native Americans 
                   got reparations -
Japanese 
                   got reparations -
Jews
                   got reparations -

African Americans
                   No reparations -

Africans
                  No reparations

Jamaicans
                   No reparations

Black Skin
                   No reparations

And
the only thing
that 
you can 
say is,

We're sorry!?

America,
We 
do not 
accept 
your apology,

for 
your Dark
and 
Ugly past -



No apology, 
will ever
be 
enough.

America,
You must be
held
accountable,

for what
you've done -

Why can't we 
get paid?

Every 
African American
living
is 
a descendant 
of
slavery -

Owed over
trillions
of
dollars
in reparations -

Why can't we 
get paid?

We died
 in
uncountable 
numbers 
at sea,

en route 

to 
the New World -

Once here,
our death rate 
soared,

we 
encountered
horrific deaths:

Beatings,
Diseases,
Lynchings,
and
Starvation -

So Listen Up
America!

Why can't we 
get paid?
© Ken Jordan  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: compensated, black african american,
Form: Light Verse

Premium Member Benevolent Emotional Rancor

Recanting those memories that we have had,
Is all I wanted to do;
But, I could feel that they had entirely subsided 
Deep into my heart,
And I feel it will hold the whole life through.

Amidst the turmoils in life,
I still have those memories;
As if they really had aggregated within,
Yet, I wish time helps me to extricate,
Like a shooting star, hoping to vanish somewhere.

No more pains, no more tears
Are all I could wish;
Because, I really love you that much,
Although it hurts me,
I need to let go and set you free.

Day by day, I storm heaven with prayer,
That we'll both find the real happiness;
Happiness that is separately in our own,
And only heaven knows,
When our hearts meet again, never or soon.

You must need to know even just  through a dream,
That I really need your help;
Please, come just like a soft and gentle blow of wind,
And do whisper into my ears,
That I need to be happy; since, God knows what both of us is best.

Come and tell me that you  also fervently pray,
That someday, somehow this emotional rancor of mine;
Yet, benevolent will soon be compensated,
By someone who will really love me,
Love me even more than what you did.
© Len Gasun  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: compensated, heaven, lost love, love,
Form: Free verse
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