Best Decent Poems
It’s not my place to say,
but I’m gonna say it anyway ...
I’m in love with you
Now that you know the truth,
what are you gonna do?
But, before you decide anything,
dear Princess,
listen to this humble declaration of mine —
My love for you has been growing over time
This devotion is deep,
and I’m not a fool
I know, given what my social standing is;
to reach your inner circle,
my challenge is steep
So here is what you need to know,
the open file truth about me:
I got ordinary looks
It be true, I’m not a handsome guy
Have read me a lot of books
Also true, I love to let my mind fly
Since I’ve known you,
only gave you more than I took
I adore you is the reason why
All of my heart I offer
Give you things money can’t buy
Why then can’t a princess
fall in love with a pauper?
Would you be willing to try
to close the divide
Take a leap of faith,
and I’ll catch you on the other side
You know in your heart of hearts,
dear Princess,
you’re not any better than me,
simply because you got more money
And also know in your gentle soul,
the most important things you desire
ain’t always found within palace walls,
and royal banquet halls
Mr. Right ain’t always invited to the Cinderella ball
True happiness, faithful companionship
Perfect soulmate bliss found in each virgin kiss
I will give you all of this, and much more of it
I’m saying to you, I’m that man
I got such richness in my heart,
precious affection for you
Listen to your heart; let it guide you,
let it tell you if what I’m saying is true
I believe I have so much to offer,
but beware, dear Princess:
Rejection is a lover’s curse
that can turn you into a pauper
underneath
his trenchcoat
he was
in possession
of a bent quill
he used it to tickle
words out of his
avaries of birds
moon-eyed and
sucker-punched
they adored the
dripping honey
he spooned
into their
unworldly
wide-open bills
his avarice
for swollen
notoreity
observed
by the dark
night-eyed
hunters
while he,
unsuspecting,
stalked
newly commissioned
clean and unmarked boxes
with his know-it-all
best bumbling
holy-roller turns
the nights
are full of obsessed
decent hunters
lit matches
with an arsenal
of thoughts
and a granary
of words
ready to burn
Candide Diderot. ‘24
In twilight's decent to madness
the shadow of death dwells
after the clock rings out the last chime of twelve
destiny has taken everything quite well
no more sounds will be heard from small beds
fate has cast it's shadow upon the last one's head
the silence is loud enough to make one deaf
but it is the last one left standing who longs for death
One sweater to help keep you warm and cozy at all times
One diary to keep notes of all your dreams and longings
One handkerchief to dry your eyes whenever you cry
A hand held recorder so he can remember all you say to him
A poem called The Drawer of a Decent Soul that he practices
One book from the chicken soup of the soul series at least
One bottle of glue to patch us together so we never part
Bearing fatherly integrity’s good stature
My Dad, regarded with great pleasure
Ascended as clan’s patriarchal figure
Anchored upon tribal culture’s procedure.
Showing kindness and sharing his bounty
Not on his elevated platform, but from his heart’s generosity
He was sought-after for his counseling authority
As he offered gems of truth along functional practicality.
Afflicted with cardio-vascular illness
He was seen descending the staircase of health’s wellness
Yet, never did he stoop down from his helping business
While cleaving to God for His graciousness.
Midst aging pressure, he fought sickness’ pain
Clinging with faith to His Healer for strength’s gain
Surely, he struggled against medical strain
Though slain with physical debility, his spirit of courage did reign.
Beholding him descending lifeless … but triumphant*
We whom he’s touched felt gratefully jubilant
Having a tenacious leader who’s likewise a meek servant
Leaving us a legacy of how to make someone’s life radiant.
Vividly, I witnessed Dad’s physique succumb to mortality’s light
He, with joyous countenance, left his body toward heavenly flight
Coming down the stairs of his existence with noble example in sight
The Lord be praised for his decent descent of godly character might.
*2Corinthians 2:14 Now thanks be unto God, which always causeth us to triumph in Christ, and maketh manifest the savour of his knowledge by us in every place.
October 16, 2019
Honorable Mention, "STRAND SPECIAL..." Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 12/10/2019.
A copy of the poem " A Drawer of a Decent Soul" that she practices
A copy of the poem " A Drawer of a Decent Man" that she utulizes
A stapler to hold together things with all her power and strength
One remote control to a robot with three hands since two is not enough
One tube of muscle cream for her back for carrying many extra loads
Three folders filled with creative ideas to help provide for the family
One alarm clock set in intervals to make sure her tasks are complete
One bag of honesty to myself and others at all times
Tape to fix other peoples wounds and keep them together
One box of kleenex to wipe their tears completely away
Paper to write down what needs to be done to help others
One pen to scribble down words they think were not heard
One pack of batteries for energy to always be their for them
One flashlight to guide others if they get lost in the dark
A Green Dog Loves Decent Purple Dandelions
I knew I had it with me
It gave me so many great ideas
Shaped them and formed them into poetry
Lately the words do not come to me
They mix together and become incomprehensible
I write, “A green dog loves decent purple dandelions”
That won’t make sense to anyone with some drugs
I want to write
I want to create something special
“A green dog loves decent purple dandelions”
What the hell does that mean?
They came from my fingers through my keyboard
My fingers were controlled by my mind
What was my mind thinking?
What was the imagery I was intending?
Christ, I wish I knew
He won’t tell me what was in my mind
I don’t think he would want to know
I just know one thing
With lines like that my mind is not with me
It left with a bottle of Kentucky whiskey
Travelling on its own
My mind is on vacation to a different planet
A planet in a galaxy so many light-years away
It may never come back to help me be creative
“A green dog loves decent purple dandelions”
That may be the last line I ever write
And THAT would be a hell of a way to be remembered
Unable to imagine attempting the steep descent before me;
I furtively follow a turquoise topped Canadian cabinetmaker
and her Aussie friend discuss a chair lift down?
With a grumble and groan
I realize there must have been a chair lift up!
After one aborted boarding of the lift
Pay, pay, one had to pay!
Where to pay? How to pay!
Ahhhhhhh, here silly Gaijin, pay here!
I grab the circling chair; hold tight to my “go bag”
and clamber to the seat.
And away we go. Echoes of Jackie Gelson!
I watch the wee ones whoosh and bounce by
swinging their stocking covered legs
adjusting their baseball caps “Go Tigers!”
“Take me out to the ball game wheedles its way
into my frontal lobes
The lyrics printed on the wall of a building
beside the train station (in English)
running pell-mell from mind to hum.
The lifted landed me with a running stop.
within an atrium on the top floor of a modern building.
Somewhere?
Oopps.
I once knew a bloke
Who hailed from Stoke
He saw me on the street
And so we did greet
But I said to him with much ire
"You're a liar
You call me your chummy
But you hate me mummy"
To the allegation he did respond:
"You are mistaken, of your mum I am fond"
"Nay" said I
"You just like her black pie."
After much thought
To his lips he brought:
"Caesar really was a decent bloke"
I once new a lad
In dog tooth suits he was clad
As I boarded the tube
I yelled "Hey rube!
You slept with my sister
Explain mister!"
He consternated
And maybe debated
But he said:
"Caesar really was a decent bloke"
I once knew a sod
Who seemed quite odd
I was watching the Blues
When I said "Those are my shoes!
Explain saucy knave!"
He replied: "To me your girlfriend gave
After that
Unforgettable spat"
"That's a false report!"
I said in retort
To which he said:
"Genghis really was a decent bloke"
"Don't you mean Caesar" I said
Reply: "Forgive me cabbage head
I have no abode with which to rest my node
Be gone with you
I have two
That'll make you stew
If you don't shut your gob
Don't talk of Caesar my name is Bob!"
One day
On my parlay
Through Southhampton way
I was confronted
By a man with head bunted
To me he said
"I wish you were dead
200 pounds you owe me"
I shrugged at the fee
But did reply
"Caesar really was a decent bloke"
Indecency, exposing self.
Ideologies clash.
Immorality takes the center stage.
Morality humbles herself.
Its a matter of the consciousness.
The lovemaking of heart and soul.
Decisions are offspring's,
of this unity, conceived
With purity of the mind.
She could not brag.
She needed love,
Weak in her limbs.
it's a matter of her age.
Uncontrollable urge.
Overtaking the matters of the heart.
She is being used and abused.
Because she belongs to the vulnerable kind.
A splendid contract of convenience.
Morality looses its sense.
She should, introspect,
about the mattes of the heart.
Its, fundamental need,
Of every humane being.
A physical urge,
that's uncontrollable at times.
But what's the enjoyment,
that you derive,
from a synthetic
Offspring of love.
I read poems in various platforms
That rapes, morality of the fairer sex.
Its disgusting, to read budding poets.
Fantasising their thoughts,
Into phrases and stanzas.
Please avoid such inhumane acts,
from being displayed
Its very unatural for any poet,
to portray a woman,
as an object of sex.
My advise to these vulnerable kind.
Please, dont be unkind to yourself.
You have rhyme.
You have grace.
You have the passion.
You have got reason.
You have compassion.
You have strength.
You are a creation.
You have everything and more,
than the male counterparts.
Your are the lifeline,
Of procreation.
An envy of art.
Don't submit yourself,
to this ABUSE.
carries his merchandise
every day in his stomach
thinks all is safe there
Introducing the Democrats' presumptive Presidential nominee
A fine, decent, virtuous family man, Mr. Joseph Biden
What's this? Sexual assault charges?
Hmph! Another sexual predator in hidin'
Buck off a twenty; should twenty
buckshots mean nineteen too many?
Extinguished abruptly,
with Godspeed so mighty,
effortlessly shattered,
sending molars afar.
So far they say a
shard was found in
the neighbor's yard.
Found someone at the bar.
Didn't want to get in the car.
Pray tell, that didn't get far.
I arrive at the walkway;
I push past a pause, just
I can't stand until
standing right side up,
I saw this rerun show.
Chest cavity. Ghost town captivity
to gesture from behind,
telling, "They were scared."
Startled, so too are we.
Starting up again, approached
closer with a tender voice.
Damn! Blasted fantasy poaching,
encroaching as the situation
abused the determination. In
determination abused, saw
and became amused.
Morals annihilate as
fury eradicates saving grace.
Roof off mouth demonstrates a
desperate need to escape.
Erupting out, fountain snatch;
flung, streamers are strung
about—it's raining.
However, it had ended
before
any ringing got started.
Destroy the annoyance so
they
can bury a face,
not only a body.
At least...
Steve likes to control people's lives.
He could hate men for their bad wives;
Who tries Steve's eyeballs to death drives,
His razor worse than twenty knives!
Thus, Steve's trusted friend Jeremy
Had to become his enemy
Jeremy to face his army
For being recently The Barmy...
I love Steve's dead sincerity,
Not his love for temerity:
His mad thirst for severity
And voice for dropped Austerity...
Men should know trends that are recent
And afford they can The Decent,
Wasting not strength for an ascent,
Where lies but yesterday's assent.