Best Corrective Poems


Premium Member Rose Colored Glass

He sees the rose in her cheeks
She sees the wrinkles of time in her mirror

He sees the long, flowing brunette of her shining hair
She sees wisps of grey, dull hair that she can't manage

He sees shine and twinkle in her blue eyes
She sees her reflection through corrective lenses

He holds the soft, smooth hand that wears a gold band
She feels him squeeze her weathered, gnarled hand

He sees her running through the garden to greet him
She feels the pain, as she walks with her cane to meet him

He sees the girl he met and loved at seventeen
She sees the love of her life

He sees through rose colored glasses
She adores him






Dedicated to my grandparents
Contest Entry, 'Love Me Tender' sponsored by Miss Kristin Reynolds
Categories: corrective, dedication, devotion, loverose,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member And Women Will Save the Earth

1/ FOR GRACIE

your grace so sensitive 
other’s pain penetrates
so intense the hurt -you burn
there’s acid in your tears
one more pin hole in your heart

2/ how do we endure the monster 
the monster 
the monster -resides
the white house 
unwanted -uninvited 

and you gracie 

erace

a thousand hims 

he 
the blatant error 

you 
the corrective balance

and you should know 

it is you 
mends our ailing world

3/ weak men are too heavy 
for the planet to carry
covered in grime too filthy
for the oceans to cleanse
his eyes plastered he sees 

nothing

and when it comes to light
even the blind feel its touch

but you gracie 
you’re more special than that

4/ you’re the flame that lights the sun
the tender touch soothes the moon
even more -the eyes -color skies blue

and when you cry
i feel your tender tears
because that’s what you are tender
too tender for a world
paved hot with hate

5/ and gracie my heart leaks
and gracie i want to hand you
words -holds your heart steady 

you mean more to Earth 
all it holds in bouquets 
of miraculous paintings

the kind evil folk will never sense
it’s you gracie that center gem 
she holds
like me the world recognizes

6/recognizes you’re 
a natural resource 
drapes the world
in its ultimate beauty

and who you are 
is exactly that
the ultimate beauty
displays the hope 
we are better than we think
better because gracie -you’re here
Categories: corrective, america, blessing, feelings, fire,
Form: Free verse

That's What Friends Are Law

Aristotle, who once said, “A flatterer is a friend,
Who is your inferior, or pretends to be so.”
Magician or not, the appraisal we try to defend,
Veneer covered ready, prepare for the overthrow.

And a splint named psychology supports nowt,
Tender are the suspicions, a tourniquet gripped,
That of emotion, a trend compared with doubt, 
And complacency set amongst the less equipped.

Human form takes shape of Copernican theory,
Between each other, is the central perspective
Years ahead in terms of mind, yet still we query.
Remaining wary, they’ve listened so corrective.

A glimmer of paradise from that which destined
More positive than rightful, for instance, must,
Be seen as most probable, avoiding a rescind
Of harmonies that quaver a motion. Well, just!

And the motion we speak of, like a whisper,
Eases the tension between people who feather,
The hearing sensation shall understand crisper
Torn between plusses and negatives; whether!

The flatterer is found as the darkest seclusion,
Reflection of them is the question of mystery
A misty environment that forms that illusion
Chronically synchronized a challenge to history,

To beat out the drum of intention, as constant
A theory relating to trust involving apple trees
Has a Newtonian law which shall transplant,
Gravity, attached friends upon a breeze.

In feather-like spirit, the meadow may drift
An illusion that folds from the first dew morn,
With goose bumps that wrinkle a wary shift
Trusts! Where the sugar sweet mentions are born.

That’s what friends are Law, children at heart,
Make-believe portfolios of whimsical worth,
Fasten the button on jumpers, and bonnet apart
When blue summer dye creates umber for earth.

Perceived as a coward on grass that’s not green,
Glass, not a ruby, when trust solves the riddle,
To finish this mantra this causes serene,
Convinced like a Titan’s romance of the fiddle.

Oh! Zeus, need we flutter the discord to ride
The twirls of Hyperion, who teaches the master,
To dance like an ocean and swirl like the tide,
As trust gains momentums avoid the disaster.
Categories: corrective, mystery, trust, perspective,
Form: Epic

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Anticipations An Open Form

ANTICIPATIONS

with
 apprehensive
contrasts
in
 sombre
 glimpses
 totally
 themselves
&
so
 necessary
 to survive

disquiet
made
manifest
in
 venerable
tradition

an
 intensity
emulated
with
hypnotic
fixity

a
considered
 significance
  evident
&
perceptible
with
an
indicative
corrective
descending

an
 embarked
inclination
Categories: corrective, poetry,
Form: Free verse

The Eraser Came With Sage Advice

The eraser belonged to me; it was saved by my mother and returned along with many other 
childhood items when I became middle aged. I was curious as to why she would save a 
stubby old eraser from the primary grades, so she reminded me of its’ one and only use. My 
faded memory of that time suddenly became crystal clear, as my mother recounted for me a 
watershed episode from my formative years. 

I had, as they say these days “acted out in school once again,” this time by writing 
unspeakable words in a textbook. Without any hesitation or forethought, I chose as my 
repository the teachers’ edition of our English composition book. Quite frankly, at the time, I 
thought they were literary gems worthy of publication. That’s why I knowingly inscribed them 
there for all to see. Upon further review by more knowledgeable minds, it was determined 
corrective guidance and a phone call home was in order.
 
I was to spend several hours after school that day sweating in contemplative silence as I 
erased the teachers’ edition and many other similarly defaced books. It was during this time 
of reflection that I ground that eraser down to the stub as it remains today. The last visible 
vestiges of my bad expositions disappeared forever that hot afternoon, along with more than 
half of the eraser.

Mother then reminded me of what she overheard the Superintendent tell me, as she sat 
mortally ashamed and waiting for hours in the hallway outside that sweltering classroom. I 
can still visualize her ample adult size, trying in vain to get comfortable, in a sticky one 
armed desk made for a 5th grader.

“ John, I want you to try and remember this:
WHAT YOU SAY to others might last with them until THEY DIE.
But regretful WORDS YOU WRITE, the residue of which, will last long after YOU DIE. 
So you keep what’s left of this eraser and I hope you never need to use it again.”


*For the "Rub it out" contest, i still have the eraser.
Categories: corrective, introspection, on writing and
Form: Narrative

Out Discipline

‘Out’-discipline!
“Teacher, beaten by student.” “Student stabs another in squabble.” 
“Teachers found without Lesson Plan.” “Noise level unbearable.”
Unfortunately, these would only be a few of the sordid headlines;
 To duly ‘captivate’ readers, if every school had its own newsletter.
The very fabric of our beloved society has become deteriorated;
Because our homes and schools have failed to function effectively.
The consequences of this failure are dramatic and far-reaching. 
Therefore, immediate redress for this chaos, we should be seeking,

Teachers frequently liming; the nation’s youths, we not educating.
Usually unprepared: for work, at work; and, not completing work.
The students are not: studying, doing home-work, nor assignments.
All busy; yet, finding time for gambling, hustling, surfing ****, etc...
The school surroundings depicting ‘pollution party;’ absolutely nasty.
Manners no longer, “maketh man...” nor woman, much-less children.
This is every school’s catastrophe; total, complete, present-day anomie.
Bending/breaking rules, norms, morals or ethics - ‘perfect’ indiscipline.

Indiscipline! Everyone fed-up: teachers, students; even the parents.
Who is now responsible? Corrective measures must make statements.
‘Heads must roll’ for incompetence; ‘butts should burn’ for laziness.
Neither students nor teachers must be ‘late for school,’ or ‘bussing a lime’.
Punishment must definitely be meted out for disrespect to teachers.
Actions must be taken for insubordination, and also for instigation.
Indiscipline must be addressed immediately and harshly, to redress...
We fed-up! We taking absolutely drastic measures to ‘iron-out’ this mess.
                                                                         End
                                                                  By: Dion Penville
Categories: corrective, education,
Form: Narrative


Premium Member These Changing Times Iii

(The rehab of a supervisor)

My eyes!  Saturated
with industrial crap, eventually
to intoxicate what’s left of one’s
bewildered brain.
My sight!  Shackled to the
delusion of corporate inconsistencies,
when leading one’s head through each
enigmatic juncture.
My ears!  Burn with unprincipled
mispronunciations, after boardroom
lampoons of delinquency miss the
mark, especially when delivered
within the queerness of each
insidious secretion, only then to be
viewed with suspicion, when basking
within the formulation of one’s own
comfort zone!
“Labeled” Non aspirant
when introduced to those
emerging within the endearment of
one’s company charter!
“Without ambition”
The blind clown of managerial youth
articulates, one score and five
not an option in this perfidious 
global arena.
Astute!  The annual assessment
in place, only to bolster
insecure managers.
A feedback, to aid keep one
in one’s place.
The first phase of corporate
correctiveness, complete with subtle
innuendoes.
Barriers!  Put in place to analyze
inflexible overtones, before pleading
guilty of being in possession of too 
many answers.
But alas!  Enlightenment validated, only
if, of a positive kind.
Ah!  Is this the answer! Positivity with
in this negative world, where truth has
lost its meaning in a labyrinth of
corporate “Lunacy?”
Seminar after seminar concoct to
intergrade somewhat aimlessly with
today’s intellect, corporate logic
filtered through hidden agenda, systems of
corrective surgery implanted, to keep
“Shop floor” On track.”
“I!  And some, from
a bygone era, ridiculed, insulted,
with in the classroom.”

© Harry J Horsman  1999
Categories: corrective, education, political, work,
Form: Narrative

Premium Member In the Midst of Summers Sin

Of the distance, 
beauty appeared at peace, calmly resting. 
Proximity grew closer to this human figurine; 
lengthy legs painted in ocean blue jeans.
The thesis statement to male's eyes in dreams.

But those legs...
Those legs were the topic of my eyes
Pupils conversing in-between her inner thighs
The rhetorical tongue eager to submit beneath sun rise
Thickened bridled muscle strengthens to rise
I mean d*** Oh me! Oh myy!

Oooo wee such a beautiful sexy queen.
Envisioning, 
If at current, her faucet is running. ..
Slow-ly d
                 r
               I
                 p
                    p
                 I
             n
                g or simply leak-ing
So the fleshes hydration can be full-filling.
Muscles within muscles while warm liquid falling?
Can we start engaging?

Lips connect; gently kissing... (Pause)

But the guiltiness in the minds eye began interrupting
Spirit intervening
Muscles deflating
Suddenly,  no tempting to the extent of no lusting
Corrective vision restoring
Walking through the escape door from fornicating...whew!

As the moon tiptoes in
Eyes close and knees bend
The darkened closet within
Praying to overcome this certain sin
That I indeed struggle in
And that I may be born again
This I pray, from day to day...Amen

INK-U-SCRIPT
06-04-2014
Categories: corrective, addiction, life,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Nobody's Child

The scorn of abandonment,
howls of silence
when a room entered,
the school yard clatter
community chatter,
pulpit perniciousness
traduce in speculation.
Housewives with
corrective attitudes
deft in moralistic anomalies,
snarls over the broom
with piercing eyes declaring
“Hands off
there stands the scrum of the womb”.
Yes i am a motherless child
raised in an environment
of inclement
wagging tongues,
haggish gapes
smug righteousness,
born of woman
alas not a mother!


 © Harry J Horsman 2012
Categories: corrective, confusion, sad,
Form: Free verse

Retrospective Relevance

RETROSPECTIVE RELEVANCE

Relentless search for relevance
Reflective selective reassurance
Rationalize elective rehashing
Relentless search for relevance

Regenerating nostalgic recall
Reminiscing connective reclaim
Reconciling corrective record
Relentless search for relevance

Radical projective refusal
Reluctance infective reclusive
Regarding objective regain
Relentless search for relevance

Ramify detective recall
Reason affective release
Recover prospective radar
Relentless search for relevance





Copyright© April2013—Kim van Breda
Categories: corrective, identity,
Form: Alliteration

Hollow Poetry Critiques-Brutal and Wrong

Waking me in the wake of her brilliance
words spoken,written in convoluted high tones
ringing meaning esoteric and quite unknown
the craft was hyped in meteoric terms
shining bright, sending craven tremulous brain numb.



Harking, in glory she strode the road

on which no one else was allowed 

they lined up till she ticketed 

them for her rich comments

looking at the teeming crowd

I too went and pushed as a throng on.



She was allaying the fears of an unwary(me included)

do not worry if you do not know'tense agreement'

I am here and with you the manna heaven sent

I would 'salad';I would 'marinate'; I would'contemplate'

and  'I would ruiminate',for heck as sure I would,

your poem would come out shining from wood

wait till I am through with that ,sit there in suspense

as I put on spectacles English and thrash you hence

the poor bloke waited with breath baited

like a rabbit flagellating as a helpless bait.



After an hour, the wise lady looked up

gave a list of typos to the poor bloke as his corrective sup

and in the end she wrote

with ten spell mistakes of her own galore

this poem was all wrong and even the topic was

actually this guy should have come to me

and got the poem written by me

on a topic of my choice

and claimed this was his and will be

it was only then would I give a positive critique

as it stands it is a loser because this do-no-good 

pooh phah phah, is the author.



Now let me do the right thing

somebody close has died

yes,he did and they did not lie

I began a poem for lament

but that young bloke came like scent

I forgot the lament and wrote

a collaboration of ass cream whip and ah! in it sent.





Well the critique royale with her hyped and marketed skills is on to her next critiquing ticket.
Categories: corrective, lifeme,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Ritual

RITUAL

The anthropology professor
said Iroquois ways were a fading reflection, 
a cultural trace of a poetic narrative of indigenous
wisdom, tribal traditions that marry the spirit of
a primitive people to enduring kinship with the
earth and the sky

The anthropology professor called the delicate
touch the definitive expression of intimate knowledge,
giving meaning and myth to mystical caprice in the
cardinal winds, to sustaining abundance in the deep gray
lakes of a primeval forest beneath the cyclical rhythms
of a lunar calendar that is daily affirmed
by the rising sun

The anthropology professor said the bloated
ambitions of mercantile man, the rapacious imperatives
of voracious desire, the arrogant corrective technology
of guilt which acknowledges nature as interchangeable 
scenery for the story of our lives, should become like the
methods and modes of harmony, that the way of 
Six Nations be the simple foundation for symbiotic 
behavior in the millennium to come

And the anthropology student was twenty
and tough, a perpetual hunter, a perennial warrior,
attuned to the season of bounty and challenge, alert to 
nuance of movement and sound, knew the intricate ways
of the Haudenosaunee and the signature rites that
prepared them for war

To honor the creator
he came through the mists of a cold spring morning
like wind in the trees without source or destination, 
embodied the essence of some terrible presence – 
an unexplained whisper in an isolated place, the feather of
a wing beyond peripheral vision, perhaps the shadow of
a serpent beyond the edge of the nerves, something too
close, something suddenly striking in the ghostly 
memories of ritual violence of “the danse lacrosse”,
“dehuntshigawa’es”, baaga’adowe, a game called
begadwe,  little brother of war!
Categories: corrective, spiritual,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Positive Ticket For Our Youth

My community, like so many others, struggled with the number of calls for youth disturbances and crime. The reactive approach to solving this problem was not working. Kids saw us as the 'hunters.' With that mindset, the good kids shy away from us, and the marginal kids turned it into a game of 'cat and mouse' to see how much they could get away with before getting caught. So I thought, what if we flipped things around? What if we catch and reward kids for doing good things instead of focusing on only the negative things? What if we start handing out Positive Tickets instead of only violations or warnings? It totally went against the old reactive, post-incident, corrective policing model. The results of the Positive Tickets program have been remarkable.
Positive tickets are a great way for officers (or community people) to interact with children in a positive way. It encourages good, law-abiding behavior in youth; it steers them toward activities that promote health and positive social interactions; and most importantly, it helps them form trusting relationships with adults who care. 'Positive Tickets' can truly make a difference in the life of a child.
Therefore, creating opportunities to catch our youth doing something right, rather than catching them doing something wrong, allows us to develop positive relationships with our youth that will encourage them to do the right things for the right reasons. Indeed, any leader can do this, truly speaks louder than their words.
In the end, it seems that kids behave about as well as we expect and reward them too.
The purpose of Positive Tickets is simple building relationships with youth in your community by catching them doing something good and rewarding them for it.
Categories: corrective, youth,
Form: Narrative

Pink Lion

One step, two traps
Three strikes, four stabs...

You’ve become the toilets of our lives
The annoyance at the end of our knives
A convenient offload like a couch in the middle of the road
The white lion evicted out of the African pride
Existing only in numeracy in captivity
Enclosed for curiosity...never to roam free

Five slaps, six kicks
Seven screams, eight fists...
Nine corrective rapes ...
Ten hate crimes...

Another extreme form of humanity
An expression of the dynamic of life’s versatility 
If he’s the cross reference
Then let's be the difference
The salt in the Dead sea 
The end to the death we see
Categories: corrective, discrimination, hate, society,
Form: Rhyme

Spare the Noose - Let One Live

Spare the noose - let one live!

Just moments and life's gone,
for the lives one hack
and for it never to come back!
Isn't justice flawed with 'glee' to adorn?

The noose has a strong say
and so do the bullet!
Can one take a call with ballet,
to snatch a beautiful life away?

So easy to take than to give -
easy to take a tooth for a tooth
and eye for an eye ! Won't it soothe, 
to keep a person alive?

If a single person's decision
that took life is wrong,
so, will be - a collective throng!
Can justice be seen in 'retaliation'?

Civilisations claim to civilise -
by deliberately inflicting pain
and causing agony only to gain!
How is it an attempt to harmonise?

Taking life by force in a system,
meticulously planned
and with the gallows manned -
Who rests authority for any such dictum?

Rules are guidelines laid by the man,
for the man - for humanity to steer,
itself to sheer and for some to fear!
Gives no right to kill - ain't it time to ban?

And how qualified, a Judge,
to ascertain the quantum?
Doesn't outcomes of a post-mortem,
reveal their susceptibility to fudge?

What is travesty, if this is not?
In a civil world with respect for life,
survival - a day-to-day strife!
Isn't this for sure - an ugly face of human rot?

Life formed is by its own will,
from Life by life's own choice,
and not by any fancy voice!
Why plague it with collective ill?

Look at corrective steps instead,
even incarceration till death,
or community service till end cometh!
Kill for a kill will only make hatred spread!

Executing executions even on ones own self,
when all the wrongs to right with might,
fall flat on the face and not worth a fight!
Won't condoning surge from deep within the 'Self'?

Find space in thy heart to forgive!
Religion that imparts killing as a tool,
of course paves way to 'paradise for a fool'!
Can't retributive justice be seen by letting one live?
© Ram Ram  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: corrective, allusion, change, death, forgiveness,
Form: Free verse
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Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry

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