Best Compensates Poems
The world slows down.
That’s a good thing.
Priorities change, also good.
The rat race fades into memory.
It’s now time to appreciate things.
Let the next generation battle to climb the ladder,
keep their heads above water.
Time for walks with the dog, stoping to smell the flowers.
The body creaks where it didn’t before but the wisdom gain
more than compensates.
Reading and learning still much fun.
Smile at the young ones as they expound, knowing
time and experience mellow their sound.
Enjoy the children, appreciate the miracle, then smile when handing them back.
Reflective walks in the woods wondering what other paths you could have followed. Then realizing though, the one you chose lead you into the woods.
As time passes on and the young ones grow old, it’s important to remember, we had our time, our time in the sun.
Prepare to move on, our time is now done.
time between seasons passes slow
Impatient we are as leaf buds grow
Carefree summer takes her time
A sudden chill - unwanted snow
As slowly the sun begins to climb
time between seasons passes slow
Crocuses bloom announcing Snowdrops
Daffodils come as a sudden surprise
Azaleas flower as bright as lollipops
Forsythias glow like a golden sunrise
time between seasons passes slow
Idle leaves deepen in rustic tones
Sun fires the chameleon call of fall
Scent of smoke - autumn chill condones
All is golden to enthrall
time between seasons passes slow
No longer remote winter blasts its way
Its beauty - snow on coal dark wood
Compensates for days of gray
As if somehow it could make good.
time between seasons passes slow
the time between the seasons
Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Kim Rodrigues
Sight disappears, irrelevant as dust
determination makes one crazy or brave
snatching the light anyhow, is a must
sensing danger even if it is a wave
compensates for survival which is just
but not independent from an unknown grave
restlessness available for a kind lust
as understanding extends its hands to save
view the chronicles of a struggling boy
thinking hammer is needed to break small nut
nothing then is as temporal as joy
each promise comes with a coma and a but
a sorry mind turned into a bad toy
strings of slavery only clarity can cut
there is a war within the mind that we do not understand
the esoteric knowledge that invokes every man
the human being is more then physical flesh and bone
because the body of the spirit is not it's eternal home
the being of a human is mind, body and soul
but the collective conscience connects each being as a whole
we exude the energies within us that manipulate each thought
as we accept the patterns of what the mind was taught
but if there is a balance within God's creation
how does one confirm thats its not manipulation?
for the forces that may be tend to be hidden from the eye
as the mind compensates the truth for what we call a lie
if there is evil in the world how do we know it exists?
is it only in the mind for the mind to resist?
or does this evil affect our spiritual and physical beings?
or do we intentionally forget until we believe what we are seeing?
knowledge may be creation but wisdom is the knowing
creating a hand grenade is not the same as throwing
there is a balance in life that many physically understand
but to comprehend the spiritual balance one must reach into the heart of man
Jesus spoke of love to help tip back the scale
but many denied the word believing the truth to be a tale
if this world was built on deception, secrecy and lies
how do we repent the world if we do not open our eyes?
how can man forgive the world for the laws it has transgressed?
unless man is faithfully willing to put his spirit to the test
to know thyself is a gift from every collective mind
as reality begins to drift into the vastness of father time
the epox of self-awareness is the beginning of a spiritual endeavor
as the journey of mortal legs walk into the land of forever
the path that was laid before the man who can see but lives without sight
was created to test his faith not his strength nor his might
THE HATE YOU GIVE
By: Sikolwethu Mthethwa
Shed a tear for the kids who never had a compassionate witness to all their pain
Caregivers quick to label them dramatic or insane
Shed another tear for kids whose attempts to impress their guardians were in vain
So they Decided to curl up and "stay in their lane"
Without empathy and compassion can we be sensitive to the pain of others?
A strong message to the dismissive mothers and fathers
Nothing is more dangerous than a child that wonders:
"Do my parents even love me? "
"Why does everyone else seem to be above me? "
Thoughts that leave em broken and insecure
Dont ever be too busy to ask if they're okay until you're sure.
Coz neglect pierces the spirit to very the core
And if you spot withdrawal
Keep the suspense of drug use at a minimal
Do away with blaming outside influence
Rush to the rescue before they lose their innocence
Approach swiftly but softly
Be sincere and immerse yourself wholly
In the struggles and pain of your child
Know that to them their struggles are anything but mild
Listen actively without passing harsh judgments
Your words of comfort are never to be just cold statements
Be tender and gentle
For your aim should be to mend and not dismantle
In your presence your child should feel secure
Smother them with unconditional love until their heart is no longer sore
With goodness in their heart They will once again be pure
Know that a parent can always do more
To support, love and guide their kids as they grow
For nothing compensates for consistent emotional support...
I quell amongst the dischord words rely,
Upon the sole revivals am I prone
cross function is a dismay from behind
foundations of a style I'd call my own.
It clearly seeths in others, having heard
myself who, in a nutshell, doth reply
with verse to reimberse you where it dies
against the better judgements they imply.
I urge you, having reconciled too bold
doth duly gives as leaving you appears,
thus compensates with insight having brought
another kind of music to your ears.
Dyslexia, contains with insights sung,
the worship of another mother tongue.
My limitation is my heart,
Head compensates sometimes,
But always runs after.
The dim past houses warriors of yesterday
whose lachrymose trail of tears
continue to whet the sympathy of one diehard
dilettante commissar born and bred
upon the soil those indigenous Tribes
(with that ill-fitting misnomer of noble savages)
left their legendary mythic and epic legions of prowess
yet fell prey to a mightier force
whereby treasonous treaties played on innocence and naiveté
interestingly and ironically enough memorializing such mighty peoples
thru place names and sports teams
which patronage ranks as mere condescension
and barely compensates for compensation and vindication
for genocide plus gross mistreatment and sacrilege
of token Native American remnants
corralled on dirt poor reservations
still evoking the tormented ghosts of a forgotten time.
When a young boy I was,
I equated ability with age;
The elderly must have, so I thought;
Age seemed to me all that counted;
I quested for the needful and the not,
Mama was a super being,
Papa was almighty god;
Their love for me helped my view,
As my wish daily came to be;
If I had asked for the sky,
I would have had stars and sun,
In my room like other toys.
When a young boy I was,
Papa was the richest that ever lived,
The strongest under the sky,
Stronger than lion and horse,
Bigger than law and rule;
Mama was the perfection,
One that could never wrong,
Standard for others to measure;
No woman was mother enough,
But she who often came to me
With cookie she freely gave.
Now my central head is Sahara ,
Halt pity, I am not shortchanged;
My goatee compensates the glass afore;
Again ,I’m Johnbull’s able-dad,
The day I went to town with him,
Johnbull saw a cute Ferrari,
Daddy buy it,son decreed;
When have I become Ronaldo?
By the tallest building in Abu-Dhabi
Daddy buy it, son said sofort.
The day Klitschiko won a war,
And his name rent the air;
A voice in the crowd rang aloud:
Who can stand the iron man?
Johnbull’s spontaneous reply:
Daddy, daddy, my daddy can;
Hey!I looked at Johnbull’s daddy’s fist,
A good sight of mustard seed;
Next I checked out his daddy’s chest;
Bit broader than cricket’s thorax,
Could I be the thunderbolt ?
One and only Johnbull’s superman?
Then I remember my johnbull years,
Could this be kinder's trait,
That daddy is often a god ?
Air breathed in, thick with sorrow,
The night too dense with pain,
This sunrise barely compensates,
For battles fought in vain.
Care has taken up its place,
Behind her weary brow,
Drowning out the happy sound,
Of friendly laughter now.
The pain that racks her weary form,
Mere words could ill express,
The toll it takes upon her heart,
Her lips must now confess.
Perhaps the bruises left by hate,
Should not have been revealed,
To those who turn their heads away;
From the elect concealed.
She dares not hope this pain will pass,
The scars, and nightmares fade,
Will time succeed in killing off,
What greed and anger made?
And when it's all been said and done
The final word it's tongue shall leave,
Will that word be filled with hate,
Or will it love conceive?
YLE
What is it about shopping that
Appeals so to the women in my life?
And why can’t a man empathize,
Or plumb the logic found in “Book of Wife.”
Indeed the ideal clothes for men
Would be the ones found under Christmas tree!
Presumably they fit at least
And wife must like them, maybe even me?
But from a man’s perspective it
Is time that he has saved that really counts!
And nothing compensates its loss,
Not perfect fit, not two for one discounts!
And face it gals, what woman gains
By hiding flaws or boosting what’s not there?
It’s what he sees when it’s just you,
That makes him feel like he’s a zillionaire.
Long Tooth
December 16, 2016
look in the mirror you prostitute
see what i see
you sleep with men for many reasons but none for love
you think it compensates for the pain
go ahead and spread your legs die more everyday
you mine as well be a hooker standing on the corner
you pass the time with strangers on your back
saying its only sex what's the matter
go ahead and sniff another line it's only killing your brain
who cares if you burn a whole in your nose or get a blood clot
it makes you feel good till you have no more
here's a shot of hennessey never mind take the bottle
you are a big girl now you graduated to blacking out
the men you sleep with love it when your passed out
you look so cheap and rugged when your drunk
here roll this bag of weed it'll blow your mind away
then jump in the car and drive until you pass out
you are a sad case of the human race when you live like you do
no educatuion no great job you live from check to check
it's time to get your life together and stop living wrong
go ahead and steal from that store again
prison has many cells waiting just for you
your friends and family have written you off
because your living wrong
i am just here to point this out to you
to hold your hand and keep you strong
i am you you are me we are a team we are unity
i am your best friend your only friend your worst enemy
like i said before look in the mirror and you will see me
you can do this for us
(for the "what you need to hear "poem)
Crawling for many days
my knees getting dark
my hands losing its soft touch
increasing anticipations on my mom's face
still soiling my clean panties
At last, my first step
joy shooting across mama's face
uncontrollable tears tumbling down her cheeks
me laughing,advertising my two milky teeth
a moment of pure joy incomparable
mama and i drowning in innermost love
My second step,
my legs wobbling mama stretching her arm
yearning for a hug
But no, my first heavy fall
a tear trying to fall
mama quickly compensates me
not willing to destroy the moment
compensating me with sweet breast milk
A pouch is where a joey
Of a kangaroo resides
And pouches are the bulges
'Neath your eyes that make-up hides.
Another type of pouch is one
We carry 'round the waist
And baby food's in pouches now.
(The jars have been replaced.)
It fascinates me when a word
Adds meanings through the years.
I guess that compensates for every
Word that disappears.
The light always
Reveals the shadow
For what it really is.
A fight always
Ends in victory
For the good that’s within.
The sun always
Gives life here on Earth
Its miraculous existence.
After death there are
Forms of rebirth.
Eternal cyclical creation.
The world always
In bouts of conflict and peace.
Evolution, reincarnation.
A soul always
Lives on, while the body remains.
Spirit compensates and the body decays.
The truth always
Within evolving beings.