Best Counterweight Poems


Premium Member Soul Eaters

Turmoil
God awful gut wrenching 
nightmare riding
turmoil.

Throat clenching
acid rising murder of crows,
False importance on the trivial grows.

A gag reflex of learned fear
turmoil roils hurricane high
calms counterweight on the psychic scale.

Taste the bitter bile of discontent.
Far fetching fowl…
fouling the content
eating the brash bits of joy
Turmoil.
Categories: counterweight, angst, confusion, depression
Form: Free verse

Elevators: 5 Horsemen

Part 1

Onion

the delicacy of friendship

I found you in the flowers
Standing tall we become one
Looking down from gangly towers
Squash, you burn, you pillage, son.

Follow me you say in tongues
Thy shallow mind reveal me tell
Whisper lies clean load the guns
I feel the burn I rot in hell

Friend folly menacing the liar
I loathe this coffin how it leaks
Dear foe you raped me set on fire
The onion peal itself and weeps

Part 2

Traitor

dear monkey boy

Older eyes eat themselves,
glance and kill the other
Unified in the dance,
they steer the musty rudder.

Pained and sweeter deeper wells,
poised buckets drunk with water.
Singled out the one that dried,
handed weights to pull him under.

Wiser times capture the mind,
death justifies dishonor.
Knife slice neat through the devil's back,
who stares blank and milks the udder.

Part 3

Tempest

patron saint

Inside this box
Goodbye tempestuous fall
My puppet of steel coiled thread
Smashed buttons and twisted dread,
Alarm these doors, and
Escape this delusive bunker bed

Stamp the spiders
Thief, vulture of the deflection
The mocking patron of the sinners
Erase this affliction
Relating inward at the reflection

Rise you fool

Part 4

Phoenix

i love you

close the grip
cinched hematic grip
drenched, clawing
seeking the sheave
becoming the counterweight

i absorb, now
extracting the heat
rise like a phoenix
away to be gone to be free
fix me! i have fixed me

i am alive and i love you

Part 5

Aye, Damager

Abolish her state of disrepair
Scattered, spattered drippy thoughts
All around this box of soused leaves
Soak, ferment in the faith of our love

I can't fix this, you know
I loathe this misunderstanding
Of what I am speaking, projecting
To me, Aye Damager, to you

This devil in me
turned and twisted
A wrecked elevator in rejection
Years locked painfully aware

...
Categories: counterweight, angst, depression, devotion, forgiveness,
Form: Free verse

Lies Are Wise

Uncomfortable confronting 
your continuous consumption to which you're accustomed, 
the crunch, the chew, it's all you do, 
most munch at lunch while you the whole day through, 
can't get a grip like a hug holding you 
but when you sip it's a diet brew 
no added sugar and calories are few,
but many saturated fats are stacked 
impacting with gross growth of fat sacks,
so you boom take up too much room 
and stay still through sore joints you feel 
as you can't conceal spare tires that spill.

You've an ahss with a difference
surpassing any ahss in existence
by a significant distance
with its significant distance
disappearing in the distance
to France and French Resistance
wanting removal in an instance
with intense insistence . 

To lose weight you need to move mate. 

Eat less move more, it works for sure, 
though at first a chore 
instead of bursting out you'll once more 
fit through the door, 
and not resemble a dinosaur, 
the sore-thighs-and-a-sore-ahss-eyesore-osaurus.

All four storeys of your inglorious 
girth awkwardly bulges before us, 
taunting as you pass us at speeds 
outclassed by a passed its best tortoise,
a daunting and torturous sight    
for our poor eyes that sore 
at size you can't ignore
as your broad and soaring baggy core 
drags flab and more flab along the floor.

To dine all the time like an assembly line 
from 9 to 9 makes you the widest of mankind 
with a need to wear a wide load sign on your behind, 
eating on repeat 
until you can't see your feet 
or get out of that seat 
while hoarding heat 
roasting in rotation
as a gravitational orbit results, 
these insults should install motivational mass 
to counterweight your morbid oversized ahss,
… so yes your ahss looks fat since you asked.

Realise she hates guys that tell lies, she cries, 
so I told her she's oversized and learnt lies are wise,
don't tell her she's wide from side to side or in her thighs,
cus her size cry makes her lies cry look a lie, lies are wise.
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: counterweight, food, funny, humorous, truth,
Form: Rhyme

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Europe United Not European Union

The British Empire was built by fate
made rich advanced to stand up straight 
Have knowledge and allies to collaborate 
prevent Europe a Russian satellite state

Hitler became leader of countries he wished
only the French braved arm and fist
the rest conquered with little resist 
be German or Russian forever exist

It was destiny calling the fall in the 40’s
two powerful empires resourceful with fortunes 
long standing British and nasty new Nazi’s
destined to fall take Nazi too or see doom

200 years Had the USA walked a different route
stayed British or French or Spain had loot
French naval power remained with British dispute
Europe today would be a Russian Dilute

There'd have been one outcome
had Germans took the United Kingdom
no Yanks involved with Europe done
Russians crushing Nazi til Russians won

Eastern Europe would have been all Europe
weakened by the war be assured with no stop
they'd have reigned with aggression from the top
and it wouldn't have ended because a wall dropped

no scientists taken to the new world
with atom bombs or V2 rockets
no '69 moon landing out of this world
absorb and forget me not this

There needed be a Britain free
advancing air controlling sea
strong cultured links globally
for Freedom known by you and me

all in Europe were down and beaten
factually defeated and that would stay
had Britain not fought on though weakened
you wouldn't have free rights you live today

You and me UK and you and me EU
Hell Is a world we almost knew 
together as one we pulled through
BREXIT doesn’t mean we’re not with you

I'm not saying we were the saving grace
more the counterweight in place
peacetime now our way, the lessons we take,
don't hate through BREXIT we have to stay mates
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: counterweight, america, conflict, crazy, england,
Form: Rhyme

Cyril Brown

What to Submit?

1 original, poem on the theme of ...Give me your zaniest funniest Poem you can Muster up~~Be Silly 

Cyril Brown

Oh his name was Cyril Brown ,
An he weighed 300 pound,
An the Sand goannas sidestepped, 
where he stomped.

Little centric was ol Brown, 

Sometimes, often came to town,
To watch the kids, 
and peanuts there to chomp.

Oh his poor old car did suffer,
With a sandbag for a buffer,
And his voice got a little gruffer,
A flaming counterweight .

Bark hut to house was sort of,
On the Station ranch was thought of,
Brother Mark would listen,
to the snakes under the floor.

And the Rabbit bunnies springing,
The birds were chirping, singing,
And carpet snakes were bringing,
Tucker more n more n more.

Brownie had an iron bed that suffered,
Bowed and flustered, busted ,
And the peanut shells, 
stopped the opening of the door.

Once he towed young Mark to town,
On the Fergie tractor, brown,
And at 50 mile an hour was still a flying,
And the tractor was a bouncing,
 trying to touch the ground, 
announcing, would he ever get to town?

Mark wasn’t really sure, why.
A friend waved to ol Brown, hi,
At 7 foot tall, a local yokel clown. 
So he hit the anchors with a frown,
Tractor tried to knock the back door down,
Brownie muttered with surprise.

So then back off to town,
Dragging tractor, 
sidestepping round,
Got to Dirran then he stopped,
To buy more peanuts brown.
Don Johnson
Categories: counterweight, adventure
Form: Ballad

A Critic

A critic
Claiming to run as a counterweight
Together on walks
Parallel but not in one line

Any policy of the authorities
Any mistakes always shown
You will act as whistle blower
Or supreme judge
Straighten back into the track

Started from idealism
Voice for marginal people

They then believe in you
To bring aspirations
To sit on the board of representatives

But now you're in front of the mirror
You’re confused to yell at

A critic
Died by political transactions
In front of the mirror
© Nur Holis  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: counterweight, judgement, social, society,
Form: Free verse


Illucifer

When
the
angel 
of mercy
spoke of Light and Love,
they not only failed to listen,
they invented a false symbol of pure evil, a
counterweight to the voice of Truth that gave credence to worser demons of their nature.
With dire consequence, a great many 'living hearts and hearthstones all over this broad land' 
derive great meaning from this illusory figment...

In steadfast determination to prove it real.
Categories: counterweight, education
Form: Fibonacci

Premium Member A Tipping Balance

We all have moments when happiness rings true
When everything seems to finally be going right
No nimbus clouds to spoil blue skies or the view
until fate steps in and our lives turn dark as night.

What efforts we've made to stay in balance is lost.
No matter what we try, harmony does not prevail
and life is stressful, for hardship comes with a cost.
So, we need a counterweight that will tip the scale

To use a simple analogy, think of a teeter totter ride
where balance keeps us from landing on the ground.
The ups and downs we face are very difficult to abide.
What will keep us standing? Where can it be found?

With a positive attitude we can begin in heart and mind
when they battle over things on which they don't agree.
Not an easy task to keep them harmonized and aligned.
When they struggle for power, it can end in catastrophe.

A bit of faith may lead to symmetry and set things right.
Nature handless it perfectly with its seasonal changing, 
and like migratory birds on feathered wings that take flight,
tipping the balance in our favor can work with rearranging.
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: counterweight, analogy, happiness, life,
Form: Rhyme

Raised By Hidden Love

Maybe there was love shown 
the cooking and the cleaning 
it’s difficult to have known 
with all of the demeaning 

When you can’t tell the difference 
between a trophy and detention 
awards that lack significance 
received the same reception 

I always felt a counterweight 
would appear with my success 
a strange way to demonstrate 
encouragement to try my best 

Then there’s siding against 
occurring automatically 
Why not take my side? 
not add problematically 

Insisting on cleaning my room 
when the doctor told me rest 
make it last all afternoon 
It’s shocking, causing stress 

Then there is the privacy 
why has my post been opened? 
Do that but do not speak to me? 
Like trust communication’s broken 

Someone needs too encourage 
“You can do it!” Or “good luck” 
Not install the fear of god 
the anxiety to self destruct 

I guess that the love on show 
was the cooking and the cleaning 
It must be the way you know 
thanks for that as it was my needing 

I think you tend to look outside 
rather than too your family 
I guess you did that all your life 
a habit to not standby me 

If I’m not shown love at home 
then where else would I find it? 
Why raise me as you have known, 
when you know you didn’t like it.

You can’t even talk to me,
there is no form of trust 
foundations that extraordinary 
are a metal bound to rust 

You identify the opposite 
of what most mothers do, 
it causes inner conflict, 
the love is out of view

the past is only relevant 
because you've never changed 
this makes it appear evident 
you get a kick out of the strain
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: counterweight, mother,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member a tipping balance

equipoise had eluded him
a counterweight of feathers
failed to lift weights
from the other side of nowhere

maybe it was the fulcrum 
that needed new balance
a pivotal shift in the light 
of burdensome weight

burning the bridge
before the crossing
a pendulum on either side
suspended the pendant
when he approached
the courage to fear
Categories: counterweight, angst,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Counterweight

Poetry can be like prospective recovery

	unveiling rising feeling when time allows

		It sows a seed that wants to germinate

A reader a receptacle for hidden meaning

	for a pod casting shadows over uncertainty

		of mind soul spirit in a world of hardship

Mind you it may be fun to read as well

	and yet an obsession with science

		rules and regulations falls short of joy

A global and material world self-pleasing

	in mislead rationale calls for a clear antithesis

		to uncover the full potential of true humanity

When I myself read other’s nascent script

	I’m blessed with food for thought and beauty

		and reap the harvest of their blooming context

All of a sudden I am not alone with my many

	imperfections and ready for the balance of

		crude demands with art and self-expression

A place and measure so difficult to understand

	unfolds in comprehension through the lens

		of contingent fledgling aspirations’ picture

Sharing is caring and receiving is love

	the compassion of poetry brings us closer

		to what matters most and that is kindness
Categories: counterweight, beauty,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Fanal In Retreat

The lighthouse shivered in relentless gales on its rocky foundation

Stood the test of time but now it seemed that the clock had gone back

The keeper was sidelined to retire in the Sea Mission’s Nursing Abode

Had paid his fare and was reduced to cups of tea and mushy pea’s gruel

Once a pacemaker of modernity he quietly waited for dementia to settle

His heart was broken like the tower’s shattered beacon and Oliver sobbed

Tears flooded his kerchief with salty reminders of his ultimate companion

Waves of infinite tides swallowed his reason for being in cascades of pain

Cataracts pointed him inside with hearing aids hinged on precarious sight


The fragile walking stick had been bestowed by the Queen God knows when

At least that was his yarn which would not repair his threadbare cardigan

The callus on his weather worn hand had meta-morphed in soft baby skin

Be a good boy now and take your sedative pills they will rock you to sleep

Slowly fog horns of destiny sounded a creaky lullaby of reticent surrender

Once a trendsetter in dashing uniform and seafarer’s wind shaken attire

He could not even turn a famous blind eye to his room mate’s flatulence

But like clamshell lenses on a leap water catwalk he stood firm in defeat


Oliver’s lantern seemed vacant but a passionate fire kept raging his mind

Had they no respect for history had he not been the guardian of passage

Was he a spiral staircase with only one way to stumble on rusty descent

The counterweight well powered by gravity sunk like an anchor cut loose

Lightening rods flashed through his thoughts and he still could not sleep

But the night nurse had more important matters than ancient emotions

Pillows scratched his receding hair as the moon kept count of lost slumber

Once a bell whether of transit the old man felt the graveyard shift nigh

He wished he was a pirate and would sink his hook into pitiless crests


11th February 2020
Categories: counterweight, appreciation,
Form: Ode

The Weight

The weight
He had written two short books
Wanted to show her, his work,
Not now she said, I’m watching telly.
Around the beam that keeps the heaven’s roof from falling down,
He slung a rope fastened to a scrap iron drum using
Himself as a counterweight.
He hoisted the drum up, but he was too heavy
He carried too much weight of pride.
He cried in the night struggled to get rid of unwanted feelings
The drum becomes lighter, descended until
He was lifted to the top of the beam feeling free
Of false pride and ambition.
Why did you cry so much in the night? He was asked.
He smiled, was at ease with himself, but didn’t answer.
Categories: counterweight, absence, abuse, age, beautiful,
Form: Blank verse

Weights

The weight
He had written two short books
Wanted to show her, his work,
Not now she said, I’m watching telly.
Around the beam that keeps the heaven’s roof from falling down,
He slung a rope fastened to a scrap iron drum using
Himself as a counterweight.
He hoisted the drum up, but he was too heavy
He carried too much weight of pride.
He cried in the night struggled to get rid of unwanted feelings
The drum becomes lighter, descended until
He was lifted to the top of the beam feeling free
Of false pride and ambition.
Why did you cry so much in the night? He was asked.
He smiled, was at ease with himself, but didn’t answer.
Categories: counterweight, business, car, cat, chanukah,
Form: Blank verse

the weight

The weight
He had written two short books
needed to show her his work,
Not now, she said, I’m watching TV
Around the beam that keeps the heaven’s roof from falling,
He slung a rope fastened to a scrap iron drum using
Himself as a counterweight.
He hoisted the drum up, but he was too heavy
He carried too much weight of pride.
He cried in the night, struggled to get rid of unwanted feelings
The drum becomes lighter and descends until
He was lifted to the top of the beam, feeling free
Of false pride and ambition.
Why did you cry so much in the night? they asked
He smiled and was at ease with himself and didn’t answer.
© Jan Hansen  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: counterweight, absence, abuse, age,
Form: ABC
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