Best Demean Poems
Darkness Where Now Poe And Raven Reside,
(Part One)
As the Raven cross into the dark pits
Those in torment went into heaving fits
Its shrieking calls, alarms even down there
Far worse its image to dying souls scare
With great trepidation some turned to Poe
Begging, master far away make it go
Poe only smiled, saying, come now my pet
I have far, far sweeter work for you yet.
As Raven lands on Poe's black-stone table
Spits out two bloody and half eaten hands
Asks, does this remind you of that fable
Promising keys to kingdom's treasured lands
Given to a man willing and able
Freeing princess, her captor's sword withstand
Where death's deeds and bloody might enables
Morbid masterpieces of art so grand.
From all around, their banter brought loud moans
From wretched sinners in that dark hell cast
Raven spoke in wicked, evil tones
I toyed with her, to make my pleasure last
Poe commanded, Raven, please no more of that
We are here to enjoy the pleasant scenes
And in our deep joy, grow lazy and fat
Let us not her poor soul thus so demean.
Raven again spoke, come now we need pain
And louder wailing that soothes a black heart
For what good is torture if has no gain
Or tearful pleadings that come as it starts
Master, order yon' demon band to play
For I shall fly above and watch you dance
Let us enjoy sadder cries on this day
With evil's first bride, a little romance.
Poe then rose to do as his pet wanted
Poe laughed and said, Raven dear, please be nice
Let not our blackened pride thus be flaunted
When bit better decorum would suffice.
With that he motioned demon band to play
Its favorite and first great monstrous hit
As waiting victims begged that they may
Have some relief from their torturous fits.
Robert J. Lindley, 4-30-2019
Dark Rhymes, ( As Raven And Poe Both Survive Below)
Part One...
Syllables Per Line:
0 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10
0 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10
0 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10
0 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10
0 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10
Total # Syllables: 400
Total # Words:306
BECAUSE OF JUST ONE POETESS
I let go of living in sadness.
My life seemed going nowhere,
and looking back now, it all
seemed like madness!
It wasn't because she did
gymnastics with boorish
poetic forms.
Nor was she cute or wordy.
using only the shortest
forms.
I was in search for something
far deeper that healed me with
human warmth and a soul balm.
Best of all, through her, I was
to learn to waltz happily with
shadows of my past!
And to know that love seems
to end, but I found contrarily it,
in another form, always lasts.
BECAUSE OF JUST ONE POETESS
I kept coming back to read her
at the Soup.
And, finally,after a number of
months,
I concluded to sign up and
express myself with my freshman,
weak pen.
I used to write the saddest poetry,
before I came here.
I try now to stay away from poets
who hate my country, or get joy out
of living in lost love or sadness.
And to avoid all who laugh at and
demean myself!
Belittling others in a poem, creates
and furthers world madness.
BECAUSE OF JUST ONE POETESS
Indeed my days have transformed
from gloom to splendiferous gladness.
No hopelessness nor grief can
fingerprint my life any longer.
And in the days to come, may
my words become far stronger.
BECAUSE OF JUST ONE POETESS!
**Her name is known best to the
the humblest of the twinkling
stars and God's ears**
With affection and thanks~
Sometimes we all say things we don’t mean
Private thoughts to be kept inside that should never be seen
Then others join to be part of the scene
Using nasty words that are designed to demean
Scared to speak out for fear of ridicule
How can other people be so cruel
They join in because they think its fun
Not knowing the harm they do to anyone
Social media can be fun
But to those being bullied the damage is done
‘Do it, do it, just go away’
These are the words the bullies may say
Until one day the victim begins to crack
Those poisoned words can’t be taken back
Evntually they can take no more
And are found lifeless on the bedroom floor
Then those who mock and those who scorn
Turn up at the funeral of those who they now mourn
So think before another word you say
Because the bullied may not be able to face another day
Edited for Premier Contest #7 Sponsored by Skat A
2/2/14
Inspired by the death Caitlin Alker (aged 18) who was bullied on social media and tragically took her own life.
Gold Fever
History will not record the bloated weight
Of this pious and bigoted race
Or count the fat and flaccid wealth
Of religions idolatry
Those pages have been scrubbed clean
By prosperous forgivingness
And the cruelty of established political dominion
Will not tally the bodies of the oppressed
To them, faith and belief are merely a weapon
A system of abusive control
And a means of power continuation
A dictatorial right to rule the population
History will not record the inheritance of opinion
But lay blind at the doors of massacre
The Aztec, The Aborigine, The North American Indian, The African *****,
Pray in silence to The Church
Centuries written in blood and torture
For a message of verbiage and usage
Extracted and leeched from the poor and uneducated
Created the western dream
The long night of the witch hunt is not over
The Inquisition has saved us
With fake blood and wooden crosses
This elite of moral perspective shall save us all
We have paid the price in conscience
Superiority managed by white skinned indifference
Holy mother church has welcomed all
All into its iron embrace of slack jawed wonder
And what more despicable rule can there be
Than to dictate ones own spiritual journey
Spouted by the rote of political expediency
And the promise of heaven
Ingrained now this so called Christian ethic
And so much of the truth left distorted
Forgotten now are the ancient mystical secrets
Which united mankind to understanding
Idol of gold and crucifixion
Of cathedral and stained glass objectification
Gilt and holy water of sumptuous ritual
Of silken pope and luxurious self righteous invention
An aberration of human faith and belief
An unrepentant destroyer of “ Loves ” dream
The curse of The Christ as you continue to translate
The Word
And where the paupers fist crunches the dirt
Where dried and parched lips pray for rain
Where the desperate cry for a reason echoes
Where blood flows in feted anger
Where children scream in fear
Where hunger and despair debase and demean
Where there is no light
And in the dark only pain
If you wish to care for the souls of mankind
Preacher
It is there with them
There
Is where you should be
Three crosses stood still that faithful day
As the skies sadly wept a guilted grey
On the highest hill they would be seen
By Roman ruled eyes that did demean
The middle cross covered in rustic red
Where the calamitous Christ’s blood sacrificed shed
The lachrymal lamb dies for our shameless sins
As the whispering winds wind and the sky dims
The christened cross made thus Divine
For the Christ awaits Ascension to His Holy shrine
The weathered wood of dogmatic Destiny
Dexterously dismantled while bereaving blessedly
The Christ carefully put in a timeless tomb
With His Loving Light creates a new womb.
March.26.2016
A Happy Easter
From (:^WW^:)
Temple of the Gods
Within the realities, unseen deified admits a parallel preen
A shielded smokescreen for their succus is made unclean
In the matriarchal machine a throne tallat for the Queen
A calumnious convene in illusions that dered and demean
The fallen Angels level in their banishing bedaubed bedevil
In ruins ravaging, they revel a tenacious tenet of their temple
For their mendacious meddle we are the reifier of our vessel
We wilfully wrestle and retire in our denned deceived nestle
We are the many among the few evitative as we quietly ensue
For we must rise and renew all sexes seduced within their skew
Time to be trusted and true him or her who sees the veils thru
Constructs that construe dimensional drifts solos in the goo.
A Palindrome is a word or phrase which reads the same backwards as forwards, such as madam
deified – past tense of "to deify", meaning to consider as a god
succus – any of various liquids excreted by animals or plants
tallat--A loft.
dered – past tense of "to dere", an archaic word meaning to harm
level – various common meanings
tenet – a belief or principle
reifier – someone who reifies (considers an abstract concept to be real)
denned – past tense of to den, meaning to live in a den
evitative – a grammatical case indicating fear or aversion.
sexes – plural of sex
sees – third-person present tense of ‘to see’
solos – plural of solo
May.08.2018
Palindromes
Sponsored by: Joseph May
A quiet teenager named Tina
Had bullies use words to demean her
But my memory lingers
cos she stuck up two fingers
then pushed them into the marina!
3/20/18
They live in fear in Ireland.
Their sin is ' wearing of the green.'
St. Patricks shamrock is now banned.
A National Emblem caught between,
Sweet Erins pride, and Englands stand
Against the green, and to demean.
Then rule the Gaels with iron hand.
Beyond the pale lifes unforseen.
It's freedom that, life does demand.
So paradise on earth would mean.
Sail Westward to a distant land,
Where Irelands shamrock can be seen
Those colonists will understand
Why Irish eyes smile so serene.
You say the most hurtful things:
acting like a soul possessed.
And try to resurrect fears:
Time has long ago repressed.
You can't relate to pity,
for bullies exploit the meek.
And it feels good to demean
those who turn the other cheek.
I see someone who's hurting;
using rage to numb their pain.
And a sore loser in life,
treating winners with disdain.
A part of you dies, knowing
that the lies you spew aren't true.
Yet, gnawing at your insides,
hate's all that matters to you.
You stand ready to attack,
pushing everyone away.
And start swinging at shadows:
striking out, day after day.
One Senior’s Sonnet
The feelings are frozen, fetid in time,
Decisions denied to the dwindling mind;
Possibilities piling like lengths of twine;
Acceptance of aging cannot be blind.
Duties demean while trying to hold on;
Where hides the help while faculties dim?
Will compassion kindle the fire now gone?
Can joints jump for joy in arthritic limbs?
The sun is sinking in a twilight red rest.
Peace being pursued is allowed conquest.
And tasks like talisman line up in rows
In order opting one by one were chose.
The frightening fear of morning’s trembly dawn,
With prayer and persistence is dead and gone.
TRUE BEAUTY
To the eye of the beholder,
True beauty rarely seen,
She captures none with flirting eyes,
Her attire does not demean.
Her presence, soft, as of a dove's,
If you're careful enough she'll stay,
Few there are that recognizes,
her worth this very day.
Her words though few, her silence speaks loudly,
Never deceit or lies within,
Her Angels are there and walk beside her,
For one tear they will defend.
A hidden Truffle, rare to find,
An oyster's treasured pearl,
Her love, more excellent than wine and riches,
This very precious girl.
The prideful man may never find her,
and know the loving ocean in her very kiss,
For few eyes or lips will ever taste and see,
True beauty such as this.
A woman of God, woman of virtue,
blessed is the man to add her to his life,
He has received great favor from God,
An ornament of true beauty for a wife.
1…2…3…4…
This is battle…This is war.
5…6…7...8…
Escape is just beyond this gate.
9...10...11...
All good girls go to heaven.
12...13...14...15...
The blade is ready, the blade is keen.
16...17.,.18...19...
Everybody must demean.
20...21...22...
I’d be alive if they only knew
23...24...25...26...
My problems are too hard to fix.
27…28…29…30…
Life is everything but sturdy.
31…32...33…
Life is the lock, death is the key.
34...3-...
Don't bastardise the limerick form
and deviate from Edward Lear's norm
Poet’s writing form wrong
Should not deserve a gong
Some efforts were just truly lukewarm
The syllable count and rhyme scheme
Ain’t something that folk should demean
Limericks can be rudish
Not designed for folk prudish
Of writing poop poems I'm Queen!
Three crosses stood still that faithful day
As the skies sadly wept a guilted grey
On the highest hill, they would be seen
Ruled by Roman eyes that did demean
The middle cross covered in a rustic red
Where the blood of Christ, sacrificed shed
The limpid lamb died for our shameless sins
With whispering winds spun by Angels wings
The Christened cross was made thus Divine
For Christ awaited ascension to the Holy Shrine
And the weathered wood of dogmatic Destiny
Dexterously dismantled bereaving blessedly
Christ was carefully rested in a timeless tomb
As His Loving Light created a newly found womb.
Revamped from an older poem...
Feb.27.2019
Cross - Your Interpretation
Sponsored by: Carolyn Devonshire
Placed 2'nd...Thank You
Golden Roses
...to one who has faith, no explanation is necessary...to one without faith, no explanation is possible...Thomas Aquinas.
Roses side by side where the grotto stood
A golden garden not seen by their eyes
Bernadette could see as she gathered wood
Kneeling upon hearing of heaven’s cries
A Lady did appear in rose bush wild
A seraphic voice with no deception
With a white dress and girdle gently smiled
‘I am the Immaculate Conception’
For the town of Lourdes was quick to demean
Sadly scoffed as the poorest peasant girl
She dug a hole and a well would canteen
To make believers of the crippled churl
Bernadette let your song of roses hum
Upon this let processions hither come.
Aug.17.2018
New Sonnets Only
Only English Sonnets Are Acceptable
(Fourteen lines, ten syllables per line - abab cdcd efef gg rhyming scheme.)
Sponsored by: Emile Pinet
Video clip from the movie"The Song of Bernadette"
N/A for contest