Best Demolishes Poems
100 miles
It's pretty far
Feels like a loss
Not far by car
But Too far for a rock to toss
The deadening silence of your voice
Slices to my core, it's a salty wound
Made worse by your choice
I see your smile everywhere I roam
Its sincerity demolishes my pain
It convinces me that I'm home
Every minute I wish to see it again
when it's gone the hurt returns
And this feeling grows stronger
Feeling my heart, I feel it, it burns
Can't take this pain, how much longer?
Wish I could present you with a gift
Not something to make your heart rift
Something like a basket of oranges
My love language speaks gifts and time
Much different than yours is
Like an impossible rhyme
Too difficult to have faith for long
Everything our so-called god lets go wrong
Like a cut rope, tying it back, not as strong
That same fear of a loss will continue
Throughout the ages
How many times do i place my faith in you?
I fear ending up just one of your pages
How could he allow it to happen?
I swear he's terrible
Faithfully followed and obeyed
To me, he’s horrible
Too hard to have faith in my class
People say he works in a mysterious way
He’s more like a kid with a magnifying glass
On an ant that can't run away
I may be just sad
I may be just mad
I may just go back
To the day I had
You all to myself
God gave me that day
And you know what they say...
It's better to have loved and lost
-F*ck that!
He's the one that took you away
Too hard to find trust in god
Even Joseph Smith couldn't erase this heart
Like a stranger, you just give a nod
I don't know him since he tore us apart
I'll probably see you again someday
Only when it's my moment to shine
Faith is too hard to have today
Till then ill sit here and whine
Everyone calls her ‘bad’
I’ve never seen her sad,
She is vivid on own fad,
For her I am mad!
Her lips are tangerine from beetle stains,
Her fingertips contain henna stains,
Watching her I evaporate my stains.
When she is in pain, it really rains.
She is a dark woman, whom all hates,
She is a taboo, whom they tolerate,
I want to tear up her outer façade.
She wears a coiled “bindi” on her forehead,
She is miles away from being sacred,
Still, she doesn’t deserve this much hatred.
She chews tobacco with areca nuts,
She pops tobacco and cashew nuts,
Everybody hates the way she smacks,
Kohl pencil makes her eyes dark,
Her attitude makes her ever darker,
I hope her “bindi” glows in the dark,
She demolishes all the perks.
For her, I am total jerk.
I love her silver jewelries,
She, herself is a revelry,
I love the sound of her bangles,
I love the way her waist-chain dangles.
She beads traditional woman tattoo on skin,
She doesn’t live in anyone else’s skin.
Her forehead accumulates the power,
She is the solo woman in sun-shower,
She is a mix of sacred and secret,
She is never a taboo,
She is life’s hullabaloo,
She is the hymn of voodoo!!
Like a bud on a bough
Wakes up with the kiss of breeze
Blows like a rose attracting bees and butterflies
With enchanting beauty under the canopy of skies
Entices, charms, dances, smiles and laughs
Allures, attracts, loves, sings and sighs
Conquers, demolishes, builds and wins
Climbs on the peak of glory and spirits
The cruel claws of autumn lay in ambush to maul it
It droops, fades and withers like a flower
Ravaged by the hot winds of change
Ends up in the abyss and dust of non-entity
Abandoned by love and betrayed by friends
It languishes, grieves, broods and cries
With the inner flame of self it fries
Imprisoned in a tattered body it suffers in agony and perishes.
Sintra, Portugal. Dec. 10, 2014
Yes, He is approachable. No, He is not hidden or isolated.
Yes, He is an Infinite and Awesome Supernatural Being.
He introduces himself to us in the form of our own humanity and invites us into a personal relationship with Himself.
He demolishes all former barriers and walls of separation,
and establishes eternal bonds of one-on-one communication.
He is infused with simplicity, and immune to complexity.
He is not abstract and does not freeze my brain with questions too advanced for me. If he utters realities that are not understood by me, I neither worry nor experience frustration.
I understand that He is nt the author of confusionon but a Revealer of Truth, which is himself.
He is forbearing and redemptive; not judgmental
He is a most lovely Being; not a selfish unknown
He much prefers to forgive and ‘look over this’, than to condemn and ‘get you for that’.
If he had instincts, love would be at the very top.
Perhaps our first life instinct is self-consciousness.
Self-preservation is a natural for us. He requires no preservation; and if he has anything to preserve, it is us.
01092017 cj PS
Should I thank lightning for its fire,
or praise the wind when it's blowing?
For without fire, we'd all expire,
and the wind keeps the air flowing.
Fire demolishes all with ease
and when winds wail, ships oft get tossed.
And nothing can ever appease
the grief felt for a loved one lost.
Should I worship the sun and rain,
are they not worthy of my praise?
Showers bring waters that sustain
us and the sun warms with its rays.
Downpours swell rivers and souls drown,
while deserts bake under the sun.
And floods send houses crashing down,
while droughts kill more than any gun.
In times of war and upheaval,
does God decree the fate of Man?
Should I not blame Him for evil,
isn't it all part of His plan?
Yin-yang, good-bad, is known to all,
stitched in the fabric of our soul.
But when religion makes the call,
faith can levy a costly toll.
In time arrow’s one way course the winds of change blow,
wafting from the fading end to an unknown another new,
the thrust of transformation they get from the power
the spurt of history gives that goes on increasing ever.
The direction toward the world order received from
the compass of current events can’t ever be altered,
the intent it inscribes on the social landscape page,
the crafty world leaders design, is difficult to change.
Mankind strives to shed the unwanted old grimes,
like the autumn dry leaves the wind sweeps away,
bury under the sand layers of senile forgotten time,
but they rise in new forms in authoritarian regimes.
Indomitable spirit emerges from the debris of history,
new generations of belief and value emanate strong,
like escalating momentum of human rights paradigm
that’ll succeed if ever it can defy the vested interests.
,
The time arrow strikes hard with manipulated wrath,
transforms fast and invariably the vulnerable core
of the traditional society proud of integrity and unity,
imperceptibly into one of intolerance and hostility.
The conventional concept of herd living in free world
changes to isolationism with disintegrated families,
evolving into self-destructive fragile breed, collapsing
under psychic stress of changing times of uncertainty.
If the maneuvered course of post-cold war geopolitics
demolishes the critical balance of power and authority,
weaker nations will turn into mute and powerless pawns
in the game of chess, its rule devised by new world order.
___________________
April 20, 2022
Contest : New World Order
Sponsored by : Robert James Liguori
Blasphemy…cloud over their hearts of gold
Their value gradually diminishes…their weapons turn to mold
Serenity…deserted them and neglected them like orphans
Their joy rapidly wears out…they mislaid their abundant portions
They yearn,
“RESTORE the walls of Jericho!”
Anguish…shadows over their dwelling, sacred place
Their weaknesses manipulate them – they’re the definition of disgrace
Danger…defeats them and tarnished them as if they were worthless
Their prosperity shattered straightaway! REBUILD our merriness!
They plead and pray,
“Dona nobis pacem…”
Hear our hesitation and supplication…we’re beneath the bricks and remains
We’re buried alive literally! We’re becoming one with the ground
Fear and despair erases our soothing dreams…we’re getting washed away in the drains
We’re searching for shelter…we’re getting hunted down – we’re barely surviving
They churn…
They coil…
They drift away…
They spoil…
In their miseries…
Does He hear their pleas?
“SAVE ME!”
“Bestow blessings upon us!”
Are you ignoring us deliberately?
“Give us a helping hand
And lead us to the promise land!”
Misfortune unravels in this city of bafflement
Their strengths repaired our souls…we’re the definition of bravery!
Desolation and disbelief demolishes the walls of Jericho…
Does anyone sense their resentment?
Their charity transformed to greed suddenly –
Their lack of optimism and gratitude
Buried them down in captivity
How can you bear their poverty?
How can He save them from destruction and pity?
They whisper on His Holy Hill,
“Dona…Nobis…Pacem…”
Don’t let the battle overthrow ’em!
The Essence of Praying
A poem about the value of praying inspired by Ancient Greek Wisdom
Pray to contemplate the joys of life
As a prayer removes the ire of strife
Giving your soul the essence of unity
To travel your path to Divine totality
For praying guards you against thoughts
Of wrath, badness and irresponsible acts
Lowering your egoism and self-centeredness
And clearing your psyche from all viciousness
A prayer demolishes all injustice instantly
Making you integrate better into humanity
As it frees your mind to think more wisely
Leading your heart to the land of all-mercy
For praying, adds to your soul, supreme beauty
And transforms your composition of constancy
As it makes your permanence quite transitory
To seek, for your sins, the blessings of Almighty
Always taking into deep consideration the following prayer is attributed to Socrates:
‘Beloved Pan and you other Gods,
Those we adore in this land,
Make me beautiful internally in my soul.
Make the material things I have,
Harmonious with my ideas.
To think wealthy only the wise man,
To have and hold so much property,
As can be acquired and tolerated by a reasonable man’.
After a twelve hours long bath
The glitter sun ascends from
the sea
And demolishes the realm of
grey in
The sky.
I give my eyes to east where
The rising sun begin to bring
golden
Offerings to the pale land.
I then give ears to the
melodies in the
Thanksgiving Choruses of the
birds.
If the earth continue to turn,
Tomorrow I will delightfully
gaze
Eastward again because
there's no other
Effective ritual to resurrect my
muse
And waken my pen.
Poet is the man that rap
words around
His fingers- I'm not poet- I'm
a painter.
I can paint a blue sun in a
golden sky.
My pen is a brush- words are
my colors.
Give ears to my lips and I will
paint
Smiles upon the canvas of
your cheeks.
Give to my words and I will
paint
My feelings upon the canvas of
your
Heart
Listen and watch, study and learn,
the smallest to the largest, average to the brightest of human brains,
turn them lose to play
The Mall Game.
It starts simply with a stroll down a mall street, delectable treats,
known as stores line the way, their best ware displayed in all its grandeur,
hoping to lure the unwary player
in The Mall Game.
People of every size and shape, education and income
are equal when they start down the mall street,
will soon become definable by the amount of their spending,
in The Mall Game.
Entertainment is cheap, drop off the kids, let them congregate and meet,
with security walking the mall street beat, it is much safer than the city streets,
they are always welcome, usually the biggest spenders
in The Mall Game.
Everywhere you look signs say buy from me,
an accommodating player takes the bait,
demolishes their budget in one mall sweep,
a more frugal player, hesitates, waits, will soon suffer the same fate.
This is a game of stop and go, you enter a store one of two ways,
look and wonder, or, select and pay,
whatever the choice the next stop is just down the way.
In The Mall Game a penny earned is a penny spent,
if funds run short, it becomes a plastic day,
and, if all else fails, there is always a company in a lending way.
In The Mall Game the object is spend, to continue to shop until
you reach the malls end, this is the game we play again and again,
the only winners those who play the game;
a penny earned is a penny saved,
they will be back and win again,
the rest will continue to fall prey,
in The Mall Game.
From offspring of Muhammad
Comes Mahdi comes now
One night sleeps as a regular servant
Other morning wakes up with keys of heavens and the earth
Opens all the gates for hope
Knocks down all idols at a stroke
Sets up the holiest army of Islam
Takes next the breath of Jesus Christ
Conquers Mescid el Aqsa soils
Spreads to everywhere rules of Sharia
Wears to his fingers seal of Solomon
Takes into his hands Moses' scepter
Demolishes dejjal and infidels' stronghold
Open your eyes,
listen your heart,
before it is going to be later.
Pronounces their name
Now!
Don't you see that he awaits a sign of you?
demolishes the wall, give him your love.
Feel the life!
You should not decay!
Through years of chuckles and vivid imagery,
They sit across from each other;
Inventing moment to moment another day,
Past transparent overlays.
Smoke encircles
new-found wrinkles,
In ends so filled with friendship.
Then one day the smoke stopped.
No more to circle overhead
Where French Fries and flea markets
Meant more than friends.
An empty room is filled more now
With sorrow than they could with laughs.
And through a vacant stare
A veteran of his craft
Demolishes his white canvas ~
with smoker’s hands.
It’s such season. Even during those long and gray rainy days,
in the drought under the scorching sun, and in the storm that visited with the great flood; the bad seed sown in the springtime holds out till his hour has come with teeth clenched, it took the root in the ground deeply and clutched the high wind with its body, limbs, and twigs. But now, time has grown, and it has turned into red to ripen. And fallen onto earth with decay.
It’s the time of end with so much in need of need. For a flag of evil
torn by an abandoned wind has lost its way, and importunate vindictiveness
fades with the fallen leaves which were writhing on earth that grows harder
with the last breath to find a place to dig, nevertheless, there is not even
a drop of water to wet the chapped lips; nevertheless, no one comes
to help close the eyes which are out of focus.
It’s the wretchedness in the rain. In such a solitary hour that even
the setting sun lost its glory. The torn evil flag was going with reciting dirge
to blaspheme God, demolishes the thickened clay wall, struggles desperately,
and set down the coffin of the sorrowful vindictiveness.
It’s the season of tragic Hellenic mythology. There is no way to fill up
the space between wall and wall, and sick fallen leaves tramps through
the other fallen sick leaves, and the sorrowful maternity has to strangle
her own born child to death.
Nibbling a displeased fruit the rain is falling
and the fallen leaves under the foot are collapsing.
I'm walking on thin ice
Echoes of affliction disturbs my slumber
Reverberating through my ears...why should I pay the price?
I'm praying for their lives to be rescued...from the predator
Let me be the living sacrifice...
I'm losing my balance...I'm shattering on thin ice
Echoes of horrid news demolishes the peace
Do I have to be a living sacrifice?
When will this madness and chaos cease?
Let me pay half the price...
I'm RUNNING on thin ice
I collide in between the cracks...I pray for safety and knowledge
I still hear the victims – screaming in agony... helpless like captured mice
When will I ever find an escape route...that'd lead us to a pleasant village?
Let me discover His advice...
I do need His guidance
To survive the hardships... I must take risks and outrun the opposing team
I do yearn for His benevolence
To reap the reward in the deep future...He's obliged with my lifelong dream
Let me walk that narrow path...
I'm sKiPpInG to and fro on thin ice
I fight off all of the enemies with His strength... those devils tried to lower my self-esteem
I still recall the calls of happiness – who considered His advice?
How could I discover my true dwelling place? Who will consider my dream?
Let me take risks and build up my courage...
I'm unable to find His guidance...I'm scattering on thin ice
Do I have to be the one to roll the dice?
Echoes of bewilderment breaks my cheery heart
How do I keep myself from slipping? Am I on a good start
Or do I need more practice?
Once again, we're walking on thin ice...
He's testing my endurance...but they're no longer putting our trust in Him
This truth makes me sick in the stomach... is it I who has to pay the price?
I'm seeking out your elevating spirit to pull us out of this horrendous nightmare...
our confidence in You is about to dim...
Let us wander off on thin ice...
Let me take my time and make progress...
Let us take baby steps on thin ice...
Let me take risks and recover from distress...
Hopefully this journey renews our joyfulness!!
We're STILL patiently waiting on thin ice
For Your hospitality to mend our spirits and shed us Your advice
I don't mind if You tell us, “You guys should've payed the price!”