Best Consequential Poems
I’m thinking of the letter “B”
So close and yet so far
It seems a bit unfair to me
Let’s stop, reset the bar
We’ve cast the “B” to status, poor
With quality less pleasing
Like something from a discount store
A lack of something, teasing
Yet think of how essential,
I’m sure you will agree
Just think how consequential,
Not having a plan B
It also fronts some of the Best
And Brightest of our text
So much more, I’ve not addressed
But look what’s coming next!
Perhaps this is somewhat a stretch
But imagine Hamlet’s bray
With the words he’d have to retch,
To “A” or not to “A”
Categories:
consequential, fun, humor, language,
Form:
Rhyme
As I stared into the starless night,
the blinding lights of the city blotting out the beauty of a
cloudless sky fading away into day
I wonder what we missed this time - so preoccupied with our
earthly troubles - perhaps a message that Heaven wanted us to hear
Could it be a winsome Sonnet that was waiting in the winds for us, but we did not listen?
As I looked out over the waters of the endless river - flowing steady
The small streams making their own separate way, reflecting the
beauty of the Moon lighting up the night sky; What is the story they
have to tell - but we are too busy trying to sort out the problems we
brought upon ourselves
Could it be a sweet Melody in answer to the questions that flow continuously through our hearts?
Oh Look! Behold the mountains rising in the distance - the lovely
Daffodils and Sunflowers moving in the soft winds - blue green grass covering the Earth from as far as the eye can see - What is this Song they sing? Do we not understand the language they speak to us? Are we so filled with the
worries of everyday life that the meaning is hidden from our minds
Could it be a wholesome Ballad to guide us through the maze of the
issues of everyday life?
It seems we can translate with ease the verbiage of hate filled hearts;
We put ourselves in agreement with the Lie; that our Creator made one
race of people superior to another; we read the dictionary filled with the
meaning of murder, betrayal and treachery - perpetrated upon others who
were made in the same image as ourselves - and then we watch with
closed hearts the consequential results of indulging in this dark information
Could it be that we missed the sweet Song whispering in our hearts
from Heaven's Choir?
Categories:
consequential, perspective,
Form:
Free verse
I was a city born and city bred young fellow,
whose shoes had mostly only touched concrete and tar.
Oh yes I had seen grass, but out on a footy ground
and my entertainment was drinking at a nightclub bar.
As a city bred young bloke I had never seen the stars
for blanket smog and neon lights had blocked them out.
I never knew what clean air was, nor really cared at all,
and rain was just a nuisance that I could do without.
I had no idea where food comes from - why should I?
I just hand across ten dollars, and bingo! In my hand,
is warm and crispy chicken with leaves I throw away,
and chocolate milk comes in a carton with a brand.
But I’m informed one morning, this is not the case.
Milk, like cheese and butter, and yoghurt too somehow,
comes to the city from the country, for us city folk.
And I didn’t quite believe - from the inside of a cow.
A cow! I’ve never seen a cow. What’s a cow look like?
That’s right! I admit I’d not seen a cow in all me life.
I barely knew the difference, between a cow and a pig,
until in a nightclub - that’s where I met me future wife.
Jean is a lovely girl; so pretty, and near rural to the core.
She knows every breed of cow that is written in the book.
Jean has milked them, immunised, dehorned them in a crush,
so she’s quite strong in the arm and can land a great left hook.
I’m talking of me own experience; me jaw is still quite sore.
The lesson that I learnt is to choose words more carefully.
I’m not sure if the listeners sed at what I had said,
or were pleased to see an enraged woman acting like a bully.
Since we had married in the city, and lived in a city flat,
me darling Jean for many months suggested time and time again,
we should go back to her hometown where Jean promised me,
that I will finally see a cow and Jean won’t have to explain.
Now I’ve seen Friesians, Jerseys, Guernsey’s, Ayrshire’s;
I’ve eyed Poddy Calves, yearling Heifers, Bulls and Steers.
I’ve become an expert on cows, and just what is required.
I know everything that’s needed about cows so it appears.
But when lecturing colleagues with Jean close by me side,
it became the catalytic weapon to cause a murderous scene,
for I proudly uttered loudly without consequential fears,
that I had never seen a cow until - I met my wife Jean.
Categories:
consequential, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
Did Pray on Dull and Dreary Day
Horn Hiaku
to God we would pray
on a dull and dreary day
gorgeous sky now gray
our prayers to God said
after that had gone to bed
fires we do dread
about worried much
police tightly clutch and touch
now walks with a crutch
with God we will stand
after He gave us His hand
Him we understand
is consequential
while having the potential
of being essential
Political activities taking place.
Jim Horn
Categories:
consequential, allegory, analogy,
Form:
Haiku
The human qualities and potential isn’t limited nor territorial
kindness at its peak is indeed interracial
it is brutal to keep this knowledge confidential
b’cos, my experience is first hand and crucial.
Pouring out serial disgusting output, I've been consistent
hence nurturing my friendship is menial,
such a risk is definitely consequential
and it becomes official when a friend’s head is hit
Despite my social status compounded in filth and lots of irritating effect
I've been embraced and kissed by luck
making me believe life is indeed partial
A controversial creature, I am
yet, surrounded by the wonders of true friendship
its complete care, no where near superficial
its love, so congenital
to the point, I feel I’m in denial
My stink spreads across towns
my words attract infirmities
my mind has been the warehouse of lawlessness
and everything bad is registered in my accountability
but the one and only good side of me is you my friends
the day you leave, is the day I join the Dinosaurs
Categories:
consequential, beauty, best friend, character,
Form:
Epic
For months our sun has hovered overhead
To crack the barren earth across its land.
The streams run dry, no summer buds expand,
No desert death has ever been so dead.
No haven safe as place where souls can run
Since truth, in brutal slumber, woke and found
A final fury tightly wound around
Each ember edifice of dying sun.
Malignant flaws turn light on human fears
and consequential truth replaces lies
as man forms memories with last goodbyes
remorseful eyes pour out torrential tears.
The final surge of heat falls harsh upon
The raw reflection of an amber dawn.
Categories:
consequential, philosophy,
Form:
Sonnet
If death ends all we see
in Nature’s laws—
to be, or not to be,
with no applause—
and seas of troubles flee
when life withdraws,
then how we choose to plumb
the waters deep…
or whether dreams may come
in final sleep
need never foil
our glee of fancy free…
though mortal coil
may give us pause…
But what if there be more
than what we know—
a door beyond the door
to come and go?
What further living dream
may round us form,
in endless norm,
that carelessly we cause,
and doth existing seem,
must give us pause…
an independent and
dependent clause
of consequential strand
must give us pause…
another cosmic clime
in timeless time,
a stream of conscious I’m
in reasoned rhyme
that carries all our flaws
must give us pause…
who’ll snatch us from the jaws
of slated fate—
that we create…
then vainly grasp at straws—
must give us pause…
For should we risk perchance
to miss the mark,
but dizzily to dance…
what dream of dark
in coverlet of gauze
may whelm our dying pause,
and pierce with karmic claws…
to make us heed
in thought, in word, in deed,
indeed,
must give us pause…
must give us pause…
must give us pause…
~ Harley White
Categories:
consequential, death, deep, dream, imagination,
Form:
Verse
WATER IS LIFE
People ignore me because of my simple nature
If you ask me, I would not hesitate to say;
When the creator takes, I take, however, every other thing comes after me.
As a liquid, so colorless I am, I don’t deny the fact anyway
But, tell you solemnly I am valuable more than any conceivable liquid that men embrace.
Plant feel prideful enough, men thought they are the greatest
Birds of the air with their glittering nature, this is because;
I get enormous kiss from them every time!
When I become angry for anything,
I will put shame, disgrace to it
It cease from its normal functioning.
If men boast that they can do without me, notwithstanding the status
Can they withstand my wrath when I cease for three weeks?
Oh no! Even if they can, they will stink, struck them with disease-
Disfigure their physic and they will kiss the mother Earth!
Why should the birds be arrogant?
Is it for; their unique feathers, attractive beaks, and their consequential legs?
Do they not feed in fruits of trees?
Which I nurture tenaciously from incarnation
If I should give them my back side, they will simply add nothing but
Manure to the mother Earth.
What of the beautiful flamboyant flowers
That produces sweet nectar for insect to live?
What of The plant of the earth that every animal derives its life?
Am I not the one that makes them paramount?
If they decide not to be in speaking terms with me
Oh no! I will make them as thin as an AIDS patient
I will disfigure their out look to resemble such suffering from-
Sickle-cell anemia or perhaps, kwashiorkor
But, am so glad that, inter-alia, they concede that
I should as well be attributed as life!
Categories:
consequential, life, men, kiss, men,
Form:
Prose Poetry
*** Black Snow Storm ***
I’m blacker and madder and more than Hell I be bringin’ ya,
I’m a ****ed up assailant,
Mental-case mercenary hell bent,
Simultaneous and concurrent, I’m yo danger and yo savior.
But I’m real, and tangible, and do things unimaginable.
On the inside and ominous, searing truth burns my existence,
In the cold empty blanks of loathing inspired shadows,
Darkness manifests completely, as only I the one who knows.
Buried in denial, a Black Snow Storm of persistence.
Mad viral runaway,
Reaper-tagged, body bagged,
Peacefully performed, daily is as dooms a day.
Sicker than a mange’d up, street livin’ dog,
Fraudulent, Arrogant, Intelligent, and robbed.
Hustled by humanity, dignity straight-up jacked,
It’s parted-out and shipped out and neva comin’ back.
Crazy muthu****in razor bladed Snowflake,
Cold steeled touched be tight, and straighter-edged unique.
I’m in yo face, and in yo space,
An breathing stank leathelality,
Cuz crazy is as crazy does and I’m yo new reality.
I’m blacker than a ninja,
Trackin’ like a laza,
Murder-edged, star throwin’,
Life takin’ playa.
Fueled by the mental,
Conflicted, festering failure,
The whip-saw cracked, manic sized, consequential behavior,
The ease of mind is nowhere found, the truth be nothin’ gentle.
Snowflake driven, horrifying maelstrom,
Anarchist, Nihilist, devastating and then some.
Black Snowstorm blinded ya, and buried everything you know,
Snowflaka’ made it happen,
An unrelenting blizzard, of Black as coal Snow.
*** By djDiZZasteRR (AKA Brian Bauer) ***
Categories:
consequential, rap,
Form:
Lyric
Jesus, no doubt, is my hero and friend,
Till the end.
Was he perfect? Don’t know? But if So?
When he told the Pharisees that they were of their father the devil?
Was he sinning? Was he hating? Such that others could mock and revel?
In their own superiority? And his motives inferior?
My God, I feel wearier, every day,
That I feel the weight of the maternal scolds, and belittling things that folks say.
“Get a job!” “Get off the street?!”
“You’re just a burden as you sit there and beg at my feet!”
“You’re not a victim, so leave the past in the past!”
“That’s not nice, my little child, you’d better straighten up fast!”
Jesus, no doubt, is my hero and friend.
Till the end.
Was he perfect? Don’t know? But even if not?
I strive to be like him, and love him a lot.
And just as my Savior, got angry, I too,
Feel the fury of bias and the rage of pointed fingers.
Like singers, singing a song of condescension,
It reminds me of days that I am censured to mention,
When my dad was denied his pension,
Because of the tension,
Of his skin tone and refusal,
To be sheepish and bamboozled,
Am I Jesus, or even much like him?
Not really, I must admit?
But still he’s my Savior, even when I throw a fit.
And thank God he sees me truly,
Even when others scoff and chide.
And thank God he gives me courage,
For I refuse to run and hide.
For those like me, who started from the beginning at the bottom,
Our culture tends to view us as oh just a wee bit rotten,
And at the slightest hint of fury, seek to hunt us like Ben Laden.
So when I lose it? Yes I choose it?
This consequential crucifixion,
For I although others tend to want me silenced, prostrate in submission,
I have a savior, King, and best friend too, who never fails to listen.
Categories:
consequential, angstgod, me, god, hero,
Form:
Rhyme
Just a casual experiment, a new direction,
a bit of slime, residue of past process
left unattended in a remote corner obscure,
to grow, to morph, divide in diverse pattern.
Smaller than simple sight by naked eye,
infinitesimal in worlds order, just one cell.
Born of circumstance by casual curiosity,
by result of neglect, a consequential oversight.
To prosper the purpose at hand, colony in design,
expansion, interaction, ever in evolution.
Spreading on the folly of a breeze, to float
unseen from confines to new environments.
In nights breeze colony design evolves, colonize,
a world beckons in promise to the pattern of dispersal.
Awareness, we are unchallenged, a specie unknown.
boundaries are nonexistent, opportunities boundless.
Self preservation the first purpose of existence,
no malicious intent in the destruction by result.
Dominance of specie, only the strong survive,
we are classified, a new viral strain; human.
Robert Gene Stoner Jr ©
3/23/16
Categories:
consequential, poetry, science,
Form:
Verse
I seek a better life far beyond depression
My mental state needs to be repaired
Along with it, I need compensation for being born;
I did not ask for it.
Till then shall love be but my peace of mind?
I would like to believe it will
Doubts creep in and stay for a long time
Why do they torment me?
My difficulties meet with every minute that passes by
There are no cures, so I think
They are the conflicts created a long time ago
They haunt me still.
Having seized my doomed life from the grave
Not knowing the reason why when I’m so keen to exit
That’s what happens with a confused mind
Loving on edge all the time.
Most of the tears will be found wanting
Having no cause for being morbid
What has been created cannot be undone
I only can utter this is life…..
When the sound of unwholesomeness I hear
There’s no need to listen to the heart
It has been conquered mediocrity
I can do nothing about it.
Within the boundaries of loving there’s a heart
Functioning in a way the mind dictates
For with it, fantasies are created
As I am consumed by it.
Being happy in a family surroundings
Having all that I need and more
Alongside sexual fulfilment
To wake up in repulsion!
When I’m living behind prison bars I am broken
In need to escape and quickly as possible
What freedom will I find?
If I free myself after all.
If the revitalized body assumes emotions again
Keeping the mind and heart abreast of love
There will be hope, I think
Or even a waiting hell.
To the end of life itself,
Being so murky and disproportionate
Would I want to be revived?
Would I want to go through it again?
Reconciled by these thoughts
Cognitive contents have opened compassion’s gates
I wonder if I should accept them
Trying to go along with it.
In justification through my beliefs
I should know my transgressions are many
To be forgiven I shall not know
The past roads were wide and weary…..
Can I cry for lost time now departed?
It is a different country from the past;
I cannot live there anymore
I cannot love here now, also!
To call for exasperated mind and the unadorned heart
Where the spirit is weak and possessed
There is no possibility of a return
Except if sanity can be restored.
Consequential grief is not prescribed
It waits for an overall doom
It shall blacken my life
So be it!
Categories:
consequential, emotions, feelings,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
The pulse of life is altered,
a dimension set apart
closed in behind streaming window panes.
Half of life falls away . . .
I wonder why it seemed consequential yesterday.
Suspended . . .
unshelved a world of joys duty pushes back,
sweet pleasures always whispering,
but out voiced by louder tongues:
books and music,
fragrant kitchen scents,
fireside soup suppers with soft voiced friends,
some decades or even centuries old.
Blessed refreshment rainy days bring to earth,
but miracles they perform for drought encrusted minds.
Copyright, September 9, 2014
Faye Lanham Gibson
Categories:
consequential, books, rain,
Form:
Free verse
Fallen upon knees in ashes of pipe dreamer’s infatuation
chimera's collective stardust reigning through macrocosms,
world spins counterclockwise unrealistically bound hiatus
stained glass mirrors fracture in rhetorical opposition,
earthly beings condensed to mere commonplace residue
threadbare allegiances written on worn out constitutions,
idly spinning cogwheels from premier breath to closer exhale
angels hark intensely attempting to assuage inevitability
whilst calm winds yield to maelstroms' imitative gesticulations
forfeitures of human activity sacrificed in sins' germinal vices
banal platitudes reinforcing an elusively unoriginal existence,
dancing 'round the fire tween inquisitions' reluctant commendations
preparedness on conventional suspension of ill-advised reiterations,
awaiting surrender 'neath an incoherent vigil's unorthodox rite of
incarnate passages' disconnected resolve mid consequential rationale
thereupon...
timelessness is but a variable symbol
factored in mankind's hallucinatory prayers
Categories:
consequential, allegory, conflict, deep, hyperbole,
Form:
Burlesque
Schooling life- a main pursuit to learn,
Is surrounded by various impairments:
As much as catching fun-fill cruises, spurn!
Easier said than done- taking the right turn;
Good enough to measure apt adjustments,
Schooling life- a main pursuit to learn.
Goals avoid suffering consequential burn;
Been on phone longer than reading confronts-
As much as catching fun-fill cruises, spurn!
Aims widen scopes to balance grades concern
"Phone-'let there be light;' book- darkness affronts"
Schooling life- a main pursuit to learn.
Objectives object what football games yearn,
Both on field and view centre attachments,
As much as catching fun-fill cruises, spurn!
Late night matches during exams, pattern
Crying-read sleepy eyes' grace advancements...
Schooling life-a main pursuit to learn,
As much as catching fun-fill cruises, spurn!
Categories:
consequential, anxiety, art, blue, crazy,
Form:
Villanelle