Best Countered Poems
Never again will you send my friend a frown
you will be shot down and you won't wear the crown
I as a doctor myself am ashamed to be in your presence
as far a the destroyer she is the pure slam essence
I am just a boy with the power of millions
you can't break anyone down with your billions
you don't see that your slams are not well written
and the only thing we get is nothing far from bitten
so Doc are you ready to pay all the fines?
because in the end I write the last slam line
back up the boat
you'll never cross my moat
my archers are in place
all aimed at your face
if you need me I'll be here
sharpening my sword's steel
waiting for an actual challenge
worth the fight and the balance
get back up or walk away
but in the end, I must say:
my personal display of affliction
isn't countered by your decision
Categories:
countered, slamslam, slam,
Form:
Couplet
...inspired by a Dylan Thomas short story.
A breezy day, and two boys biking down the lane,
past meadows green with envy, soft as spring.
Picnic-packed and ready for the day's adventure.
They passed hikers. "Hey, lend us yer bikes!" they cried.
The lads whizzed by, not giving them a second thought.
"I bet them's fire cows," Jimmy said, (he had a wild
imagination.) "Nah, them's Holsteins, don't be daft!"
said John. The air was full of magic, and the sky
alive with seagulls. The ocean glinted to their right,
sparkling like the twinkle in a young girl's eyes.
They hurried to their destination, breathless with
anticipation, hurtling to a Neverland they'd mostly
seen in pictures, a rocky outcrop, pounded by
the waves, a fearsome confrontation with the sea.
A playground where imaginations wander.
“I bet there's dragons in them caves,” said Jimmy,
"and trolls and such, with fangs and fiery breath!"
“You're crazy!” countered John, (he read the Bible),
“'sides there's Jesus, He will shelter you from death
for now, make sure you're well and in good health."
Skittering on slabs as slick as ice fields,
tottering like lambs who've found their legs;
they played until the frigid water beckoned,
then splashed and frolicked, ducking from the heat.
Opening their back packs now, they settled down to eat.
It was then, the first time they'd discussed it,
Wally, Jimmy's brother, gone to God;
dead from cancer barely two weeks previous,
disconnected, laid beneath the sod.
Their tones were sullen, conversation somber.
“Is Wally with the Angels?” Jimmy questioned,
“Yes he is,” said John, “and safe at rest.”
They cycled home in silence, friends together,
and settled in their beds, forever blessed,
the moon endowed their dreams, a welcome guest.
Categories:
countered, childhood, cancer,
Form:
Verse
my soul is the shape of a bloodstain
poured there by Nadine Maraschino
my right eye sits
in the ruby voodoo goblet
that she wears upon her head
Nadine was a 3-toed egg laying harpy
from the cauldron of shame
but she used her brain cleverly
with candor and anti-obfuscatory ardor
it was the mystic East
humping the mystic West
so said the gaming industry statistics
don’t believe me then
talk to my lawyers then
Circumstance & Circumstance
writs tarts and exonerations
they’ll tell you of the settlement
coded instruction to the next generation
Nadine's heart was as big as a catcher's mitt
her white garments billowed
like clouds passing before the moon
we met in an emergency room
after I pulled my best pickup line
hi I'm a friend to the entire human race
and she countered with
want auntie Nadine to show you
how to be a big boy
a buzzard shadow passed over her face
she pulled me close and hissed
if no one wants to look foolish
why so many truth murdering fools
I weakly countered with
if thoughts are differentiated
one from the other then so are you
Nadine’s lizard tongue gave him
the secret to the garden
descending down his throat
like a black lung miner
how can you tell if it's morning noon or night
hint you'll need a sense of sequence
hers was a dangerous mission
for both covert and overt ends
the life's a ***** and then you die cynics
took us for a pack of numbskulls
well we were arrayed in a tatty splendor
consisting of zero camouflage
but there was no substitute for living deep
even in Happy Valley
the slightly assisted living community
well hell we're all assisted
aren't we supposed to get smarter
as time scurries us along
and last I'd like to thank
my non-existent financial backers
for timely script development
From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.byethost32.com/
Categories:
countered, humanity, slam,
Form:
Free verse
the serene people whose ease of manner
once made him yearn and confabulate
are laughable cartoonish and piteous now
could have been much worse he said
as his last breath left his scarred throat
feral hand closing his own eyes
St. Pudenda greeted him at the tall gates
under the lights at Checkpoint Charlie
Mariachi trumpets rolled out the mauve carpet
and a dog barked from behind the garbage cans
from all infinity we end up with this
a realm of syntax governed by ambiguity
she read from a large ledger atop a marble pedestal
why a ledger rather than a laptop is anyone's guess
apparently the vanguard party had been evicted
by Frankie Boxcars and the Hollywood mafia eons ago
in the great schism over the digitization of paradise
no jury of his peers he noted with unease
nothing of telling import she imparted casually
eyes darting up and down the pages
as if something previously detected had been airbrushed
arrested for self amplification she went on
and sorcery and coughing in quiet places
how did you sleep she asked with a beaming smile
I don't know I was asleep he intoned
I suppose we can reveal the joke she mused
but I was dreaming he countered
backed into a tight corner by snarling lap dogs
tossed into a kidnap taxi with a sack over my head
marched with a gun in my back
through a forest of clichés
fed lines from a hideous new sitcom
about sex among the homeless
a weekly broadcast on Piñata Vision
of course it was more fun
not being an active target
but what choice did I have
knowing what I know
poor dear thing she continued
there is a better version of everything
a law of nature completely natural
and yes it is densely beautiful and
smoldering with awe like a corpse in a bathtub
try to avoid the truly grotesque
in favor of the marginally grotesque
we love having you in our science dept.
with the state secrets and midget **** videos
masquerading as the way things actually are
where the misty cows moo in contentment
and the Vaseline runs hot behind sanctuary doors
horrors altering the course of suns
between the here and the there
every bit of it needless she giggled
From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.byethost32.com/
Categories:
countered, how i feel, slam,
Form:
Free verse
Watch me wail, wag, and whimper,
as I lag, lumber and limber,
my adult algebraic ass umption of
love lorn lustful,
pussy prison promise
fake, Falk, filters
when married daughter
becomes married mother, and OMFG
whatTFdidIgetmyselfinto
Low behold and singlefold
did I not gender gather your life
long life presence of parental
pontification that goes without
sooth saying and add up the numbers
so I can fill the male bill of plenty and request
a not/known knowing of a pre determined
prowess bliss saturnine, coital countered
cock tailed by a mean mom mesmerized miracle
of anointed via viscious ugly
uncountered societal socio so
somnablance satial sickness.
Leave me to the beaver, and the
outer limits of my twilight zone, so I can
rifleman my bonanza to a naked city
where it takes a thief to enable
Burkes Law to Mod Squad a Perry Mason, then Ironside
a manner of justice, sometimes relying on
an alternative form from Super M to Spider M,
and Hulk, then hashtag from A to Z and all letters
in between. As a man and a father with only earthy talents
I gave all that I knew, could harness, muster, and deliver as best as I knew how.
Criticize me my sons, for all what u will
as I tried my best to keep u in my still
u r the future of what is to remain
all that I have, is now yours to gain,
Rememberance is constant and our lives relate
in us all as we move forword and procreate
in keeping us in toll. Lifelines are the key to
all that is mindful and longevity unlocks
the male mantle of forever. Live long and prosper
my sons and in all things look, listen and remember.
Categories:
countered, absence, family, happiness, missing,
Form:
Free verse
Abstrusely they spoke about things unknown.
They figured she understood because she responded within knowledge given by the Lord.
Never could she state what was meant.
She countered innately.
She rejoined her past.
Her findings were that someone, other than herself, revamped yesterday.
How does history repeat?
Atrocious is this cruelty.
What went before is not to be.
However, a reality has formed from yesteryear.
The future is a seed, which has matured profusely.
Seething a lost is she who faces a breach in her memory.
Neurological resources are their tool.
The mind willingly enters this superlative institute.
Reconsider what has been done because tomorrow has come.
Reflect to divert to revitalize a city’s self-worth.
___________________________________________
Penned on September 06, 2014!
Categories:
countered, anger, angst, conflict, confusion,
Form:
Couplet
Down I go.
On the paths of sheol again.
The rewards of death; my hands regain.
The wheels of the plow of righteousness; i forgot to maintain.
Being led into the desert,
I stagger like one under the influence.
All the while blinded by momentary pleasures.
A walk through the arid land with cold lifeless walls as my compass.
*Surely I have lost it*
These words my mind kept a fix on.
Regurgitating it while the devil's counsel slowly seeped in.
A 'sound advice', like Job's wife, the devil gave.
Urging me to totally quit.
A sweet ballad he played into my ears.
Telling me to embrace hedonism as my new religion.
For I would surely fail in living a perfect life.
He gave me examples.
Yes.
*Your righteousness is as s filthy rag before God*
The accuser of the brethren quoted this scripture for me.
I countered.
Reminding him that self righteousness accounted as sin before God.
Telling him of the uptmost essence of the Jesus's death and grace in salvation.
"No one is perfect"
These words the devil said in retort.
Quoting a popular quip which gave leeway for people to sin.
In despair,
I tried to counter.
For my Christian walk was filled with inconsistent up and down moments.
Like a touchlight with a failing battery,
The light of Christ within me flickered.
HE then came back.
Like a sharp clack amidst deep silence,
I heard His words.
That piercing word of life that erupted joyful tears in me.
For I was a washed out version of my former self.
*My grace is sufficient for you.*
*You have an advocate before the father who pleads your case.*
These words Jesus spoke to me in reply to the devil's condemnation.
*Look unto Jesus the author and finisher of your faith...*
This charge He gave me to cleanse me of all adulteration.
*There is therefore now no condemnation to them who are in Christ Jesus*
This fact He quoted to free me from all allegations.
*Seek ye first the kingdom of God and its righteousness...*
These words He gave to guide my future aspirations.
Once more I cling to the cross.
An abandonment of my fling with death.
A willing stone in the sling of Christ Jesus.
Ready to earn new trophies to bring to His feet.
Laying them down as He calls me a king too, being a joint heir with Jesus.
#Bashorun
Categories:
countered, angel, birth, christian, corruption,
Form:
Couplet
Buzzing rail buggies
spinning paddled tires beating
out a gritty wake feather
on sand dune
deliberation over alcohol burning
engines being better than gas
everyone with lit cigarette in hand
aroma of tobacco with salt launching
forth from frothy waves
forms low misty curtains
a soft silty beach records a tiny footprint
seagulls honking, hovering like sound buoy's
a large black image emerges from the ocean
it could be a friendly sea monster
"it's grandpa" in a wet suit he wore
more often than a coat and tie
bringing his grandchildren treasure from Atlantis
in abalone shell purses over flowing with sand dollars
I could be all day at the boardwalk arcade
with this haul he brought in
there would be Salmon smoked and filleted
for Thanksgiving dinner
all the cousins huddled together in the family room
with 3 bay windows on the cliff
verging on the muffled sea
countered by a fireplace and couches
This painting of a tempest tossed ship with mast, less sail,
over the mantel
brush stroked by some nameless prophetic flea market artist
over the hum of conversation, laughter
and cacophony of china and crystal
a hushed deep voice filled
my chest like a distant fog horn blew
"These are days of calm, my boy....... enjoy them!"
Categories:
countered, appreciation, beach, family,
Form:
Free verse
Becoming an on-air personality has always been
my dream
So I studied Mass Com in the University of
Kareem
I worked for a radio station, TREASURE fm
Where I anchored a show daily from 6-8pm
The show was called Evening Whispers
It was a show that had many listeners
I was more or less a heart doctor
Or should I say a relationship Counsellor
Two years in a row,I have won the City's award
And have represented my station many times in
abroad
So you see, I had a blooming career
For nothing seemed to be my barrier
Cassandra and I were married newly
She was all that there IS to life for me
We had met in a colleague's birthday party
Where the show was stolen by her beauty
She carried this irresistible and unspeakable
charm
And her words to my soul was a soothing balm
"She may not be whom you think she is"
A big friend of mine had teased
"She was the missing rib from my side
Am a love doctor, there is no secret she can hide"
I countered, trying to defend my love
Unaware that the seeming straight road was
actually a curve
One Friday Evening as I was getting ready for my
show
Our technical unit had a fault,so I had to go
I felt bad for my fans but excited for my wife
We were going to make the greatest love of my
life
It was one of the coldest day of the season
And I got a video that would usher us into
erotism
I slowly turned the knob as I got home to surprise
her
But I saw something that left me with a haunting scar
There she was, utterly nude with the boy next
door
Doing the unthinkable on the floor
My whole world crushed inside of me
As I walked out into the balcony
Cassandra was indeed not whom I thought she was
I thought of where we had met and I cursed
It was a case of all that glitters not being gold
Telling me beauty has another story always
untold
I treated lots of heart but I could not treat mine
Until many moons later when NANCY sent me a
line
Categories:
countered, betrayal,
Form:
Lyric
heavy confused dreams
filled my night with restlessness
subconsciously awake
endlessly the mind wonders
every thought held as captive
unrelenting fear
the mind takes over
grandmaster of illusion
and I the pawn of the game
a mental torture
I mount my attack, countered
I awake, checkmate
Categories:
countered, confusion, fantasy, war,
Form:
Senryu
I met a chap in an English pub and asked from whence he came.
"Harumph! I hail from Piddlehinton", he pompously did proclaim!
"And you sir?", he asked and I proudly puffed out my chest.
"I come from Bean Blossom, Indiana, USA, out of the great Midwest!"
With that we guffawed and began a dialogue about curious city names,
Quaffing pints of Guinness along, as we staked outrageous claims.
"Have you heard of Cripple Creek or French Lick?", I reported.
"No! 'Ave you 'eard of Mousehole or Puddletown?", he retorted.
I proffered the names of Bad Axe, Buzzards Bay and a place called Hazard.
He countered with Cockermouth, Muggleswick and a place named Lizard!
"If you visit the colonies stop by Pigeon Forge and Intercourse!"
"While you're 'ere visit Thunderjug and Giggleswick of course!"
He taunted me with names like Liphook, Lickey End and Crackpot,
But I boasted of Eek, Waxahachie, Bunkie and the burg of Jackpot!
He babbled on telling of Beanacre, North Piddle and Balls Cross.
I depleted my reservoir of names - I could only think of La Crosse!
He challenged me to a game of darts - the board was down the hall,
But in my delicate boozy condition, I could hardly see the wall!
I excused myself admitting that in darts and city names he was deft.
He was still muttering Birdlip, Fugglestone and Diddlebury as I left!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Categories:
countered, funny, places, city, me,
Form:
Rhyme
We heard her before we saw her not because she was loud but because she was close,
she anchored herself making her presence felt; we paid the cashier and were about to leave
with our easy day shopping. She asks the man behind the counter if there was a vacancy at
this convenience supermarket (how modest are these retailers compared with their uber
shop assistants) that elsewhere 'let her and others go', as though a treat like a parent
telling a teen, 'OK you can go to the gig'. We turned. We knew her. She was short in
stature but long in confidence. The counter man boss countered in politely, pleasantly, that
he would if he could, when we intervened saying that we would recommend her
employment - thinking that as customers, as shareholders - that employers give a toss!
Ah the necklace! That's the difference, a sign of confidence, of individuality too; or what the
hell until I'm employed again, 'I'm free!' of the clock, under the bosses under pressure,
mates who are not so matey after all, of the tedium of the job classified by the uber
class 'unskilled'. Have you ever come across a job without any skill?!
The necklace, a symbol of her and ours encirclement by the cash nexus by whichever
system of obtaining our daily bread in today's world the least worst that has been devised-
yet - so fulfilling in so many ways: going home well satisfied with bringing the goodies
home to our families, to be well satisfied with the day's work or to moan because it has
been a damned dog day like yesterday as tomorrow will be, but keeping poverty at bay.
In these isles never have so many been in work (even if in a part -time, poorly paid, non
unionised world should shock Walesa) but to anyone on the Dole willing and able to work,
unemployment is a 100%.
May her necklace beads bode well for work for this hard working woman!
May her necklace beads bode well for this hard working woman moan
Categories:
countered, political,
Form:
Free verse
Out the door
is a vicious game
a process
battle of spite
tug of war
circus of irritation
where nobody loses
no one wins
a bloody senseless draw
no referee
only stiff jabs
right crosses
haymakers
countered by blow
after blow
low...
Categories:
countered, angst, fear, people, places,
Form:
Free verse
HE OFFENDS THEM
AND RUNAWAY
FORGETTING HIS FOOTPATH
ARE ITS TRACES
PATH THE WAY CHASES
DESPITE ITS FASTNESS AND SPEED
HE WAS LATER COUNTERED
HE QUITE CONCEEDS HIMSELF
KNOWING HE HAS OPEN PANDORA BOX
CAUSING A PANICKY SCENARIO
FORGOTTEN HE POSSESSES SPOTS
FOR THEY ARE ALSO TRACES
WHICH REVEAL HIM AMONGST ALL
HE WAS CALLED TO HALT
HE FOUGHT GALLANTLY
WITH ITS STRONGNESS AND AGILITY
TO OVERWHELM WHOLE
KNOWN AND PROVED NULLED
WHILE TRYING ESCAPING AGAIN
THE DAWN HAS CAST ABOUT
HE WAS CAUGHT PANTING
AND THEN NAPPING…
Categories:
countered, adventure, africa, imagination, visionary,
Form:
Concrete
Things were not advancing much
though we hurtled across the tar;
conversation was grinding to a halt
& that was something
I needed desperately to avert.
“Ah! Yes,” he interposed quite eerily,
Having clearly read my thoughts, yet again:
“The halt and the lame
Will one day rule the highways.”
“An interesting proposition Bob,
Which also shows you have not
Lost your touch with words; indeed
I suppose you know all too well
How deeply words can touch.
I myself couldn’t think of a rhyme for ‘halt’
Or use it in just that way- like a gestalt-
So I do thank you so kindly for
Your paranormal interpolation.”
“It’s my work,” he returned drily, “I do
It for a pay and when it’s over
I’d just as soon go on my way.”
“ ‘Hurricane’ ” blurted I, “your protest
Song of high distinction! Well,
That’s my earnest, humble opinion.”
To which he just gave a longsidelong glance
Simultaneously wrenching the wheel hard left
And taking a minor exit quite unexpectedly.
“So,” I timidly enquired, “Bob,” ( I was working
Up to it), “Where exactly are we headed?”
He grinned a grimace as only he can
Which was as much to say I should have known.
“We’re goin’ down this road some to
Where the winds of war are still blowin’
For there’s still some good fodder there
For the wordsmith and the songster.”
That’s Bob, thought I, contented in this knowledge
(Which left me none the wiser), always purposely
Imprecise, speaking in a kind of cipher.
He must have sensed my discomfort then
And added a cryptic, though reassuring “After”
I boldly countered with “Before”
And he smiled knowingly.
This was a splendid game we played
A game and nothing more.
I was supping at his table
And he was serving up a feast.
I was the Frankie Lee perhaps
To Bobby’s Judas Priest, and there was
No telling who first would be released.
Categories:
countered, fantasy,
Form:
Prose Poetry