Best Demote Poems
Tongues loose, tongues in a hangman’s noose
Wag without care to declare nonsense
As wisdom salvaged from the sluice
Where nonsense whacked common sense
Lost in a sea of error whose terror
Harmed victims concealed by protagonists who opted to promote
The cult of nonsense whose defence mirror
Plunged into reverse gears that chose to demote
Common sense when tongue waggers
Congregated in an occult cabal to upgrade gossiping skills
As though grapevine daggers
Staggered upper echelons of wisdom whose quills
Spilled reason in dark corners where tongue waggers shared nonsense seeds
Plus fertilizers of idleness and the icing on cakes of lies
Whose taste on tongues that wagged feeds
Total belief in naked gossip sties
Tied malfeasants together tighter
The better for them to wage war on common sense and desecrate workplace etiquette
Which is anathema to tenets of ultimate gossipers rate lighter
Than curses the wisdom ticket
That caught gossipers red handed munching grapevine beans
While sharing tins and pins of sins
For which gossipers scrambled when grapevine means
Came under close scrutiny when truth queens
Declared grapevines illegal in Wisdom Land
Where any culprit convicted of spreading gossip propaganda
Would be stripped of the royal brand
And punished for the gossip blunder
Committed without shame
To discredit the truth and integrity
In solemn worship of the blame name and claim
Would be sent to Coventry for eternity.
What do I want to write?
I will write about whatever the h I want to write
Why do you feel like you have to write about
Christmas on Christmas Day?
I will write about dreams
Do you believe in dreams?
No
Dreams are for dreamers
Because everything you do is dictated by the Man - God
You cannot do, say anything that
if He doesn't want you to do it
you can't do it
I want to start things long ago
But can I start?
No
He doesn't want me to start it
Everything has a time - its time
If if it's not the right time
You can't do it
So what are dreams good for?
They motivate you
They put things in the back burners
- in the back of your mind
That yes, you should get to it
When are dreams fulfilled?
When the Man upstairs fulfills ya
And that could be today
tomorrow, who knows?
Who is the Boss?
It's certainly not you
You are not the boss
I am not the boss
No one is the boss - except Him
He dictates it
And don't you forget it
Got to tell you a story
I know this one girl
Who got promoted so quick
Until one day she thinks she is King
Because that was what I thought
When I saw the way she treated the other person
And the next day, guess what?
She was no longer running the show
She did something she was not supposed to
And get canned
So you see?
God can promote you
And He can demote you
Don't think you can run the show
Don't let your head get all wired
And forget
Only HE - can run the show
Whose show is it?
His
You are only here because of Him
You only do because He makes you do it
Don't think it is you who is doing it
Good luck and good show
Be a Merry Christmas, will ya?
Tattarrattat
…amazing how things change over time, from a simple knock at someone’s door, smoke signals, walking & serenading to the Pony Express, and now Cell Phones…what next, microchip implants?
Tattarrattat of sounds making universal calling to chitchat
Habitat denned of words hovering upon stagnate doormat
Dialling friends like Anna and Christine while vanity filing
Smiling Hannah throughout texts and hashtags reconciling
Taking selfies selfish as snapping shots peep after faking
Breaking stats texting thru speeding with fingers aching
Money making Facebook and Twitter toot sucking honey
Funny folks frolicking in wow of gibberish words chummy
Implanting microchiping radar loves of illusions enchanting
Ranting and deleveled amidst abysses of misunderstanding
Evaporating thoughts deified through fanatic futurists dating
Frustrating still mom and dad tired of escaping callwaiting.
...this may also be read backwards
1.Tattarrattat – the longest palindrome in the Oxford English Dictionary, coined by James Joyce in Ulysses for a knock on the door
2.denned – past tense of to den, meaning to live in a den
3.deleveled – past tense and past participle of "delevel", to demote or be demoted to a lower level.
4.deified – past tense of "to deify", meaning to consider as a god
...originally I was going to enter this in Joseph May's Palindrome contest...but at the last second, I noticed the theme was about the Seasons...dah!...hello Brian lol
A Palindrome is a word or phrase which reads the same backwards as forwards, such as level, or deed, or "never odd or even".
Sept.24.2018
END SEPTEMBER 2018 STANDARD
,ANY FORM,ANY THEME
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
N/A for contest
A kid is not a human child
But offspring of a goat
So why do you then call him so
And thus your son demote.
Kids are animals wild and free
That butt and kick and bite,
On second thoughts – I’ve met your son,
Perhaps in fact you’re right.
Fairest and prettiest of all queens, you're never faithful to your king whose hands
barely touch your luscious lips that others secretly kiss;
and you meet them in an empty dungeon to satisfy your urges of lover,
not honoring those vows blessed by that priest who sprinkled Holy Water.
In the prime of your youth, you were given in marriage
for an exchange of great wealth by a father so greedy and heartless
who sought his interest, refusing to admit you were of a tender age;
and he brings his gifts to appease a king who won't demote his rank of prince.
Loyal maids know each secret and arrange your meetings with another knight,
keeping a watchful eye, and they would warn you if they heard footsteps;
naked and screaming, enjoying the ecstasy of lustful lover...wishing it would be night,
to forget the lack of everything: from sensual kisses to warm caresses.
Does guilt ever accuses your conscience of wrongdoing,? No, you seek revenge
by having continuous affairs with knights who have more sexual drive than an old king.
Gratitude attitude grow
Peacock attitude away throw
Though temptations line up in a row
Pointless, heartless any soul you to hurt
Under no circumstances invective blurt
Because so doing grows you curt
Achieving trinkets, reaping limpets
As you blow trivial trumpets
Deriding, riding, restless strumpets
In your city where contempt
Fashionable in an objectional attempt
To parade low grade hair unkempt
For aeons under neon lights
Illuminating prudish, brutish fights
Meant to ignore the snore of plights
Street kids endure under the watch
You observe at close quarters to catch
Miscreants and recidivists who latch
Onto corruption
To catalyze the eruption
So blatantly witnessed in the disruption
Probity suffers as wafers
Vanish into thin air when quaffers
Poke fun at a senile souse who suffers
Ravages of loneliness
You regret in the context of silliness
Egrets and open secrets endure as holiness
Suffers its biggest reverse
To learn men of the collar deemed so averse
To child molestation in vows so diverse
Embarrass your church
Leaving doubting Thomases in the lurch
As for meaning and direction they search
Wondering if hypocrisy in this crisis
Should call and recall paralysis
To promote or demote dialysis
As a cure for the malaise
Believers suffer in the craze
That undermines set standards in a maze
In which a plethora of anguish
You bear as you strive to distinguish
Reality from fiction. Your faith don’t extinguish
Or else you throw baby together with bath water
In the church and in your quarter
To deny you opportunities for malfeasance to alter.
The day soul sweeps the air, the knock of tears never benefits, all the
Enjoyments with red alert and maple of crystal cry which doesn't
Benevolent in the morning life expected to surround to sorrow.
The time these fingers feel the pain like the weight of Kilimanjaro with
Shroud clothe is the only asset, thy body used the best perfumes it smells
The air and silent of life is the only option on that day.
Drunk with rivers of milk each morning to monster, the multiple want curved
The day chew the night with regret and sunken face that of your banks
Account unwilling to pay homage despite all the efforts you have been
making for it.
It appears like rot eggs the sky is angry with you where your loyal friends
Used to whisper in your ears no longer willing to drop grain of sand to
Close your eyes neither nor give you the chance to chameleons color and to
let you visit memory lane together.
The time you defused your energies to plant trees that bear bitter fruits
Inasmuch as you got the opportunity to opt trees to bear the dates of
Success, you sucked it with your imagination, now the scent of food is
only for you.
The flowers you have planted is your bonus where harvest dangle of seeds
Separated from the positive ones where your cage of denial demote you to
see lesson.
The symbol of success lies to the days you have paved the road for a day
Payment received and the time sky flies away where your energy no longer
important.
Where your throne of power renders empty service the sound of serenity
Turns you down the joke of the night manifest; it is indeed true no amount of remorse is fairly sufficient to the fable negligence of duty to the dust of your life.
A goat in a suit
was appointed farm manager
in a potatoes farm he worked
He was always smart and sharp
when he harvested potatoes
half he ate, half he took as evidence
When asked how much potatoes
he took to market
he often replied;
“How can a smart goat in a suit
steal mere potatoes?
Open my stomach
and check to confirm
boil the meat and eat
if it tastes potatoes
then demote me
if it does not, then pay me
all potatoes in the farm
Partial character selection
to profile, define and judge
just to demote and reduce
Afraid that a slip
May render me maimed
I’ll likely lose grip
Of all that I’ve tamed
I’ll wind up behind
With weights on my shoes
Handicapped and blind
There’s too much to lose
I’ll never get back
To being afloat
Once knocked off the track
I’m doomed to demote
I haven’t the strength
When I’m overwhelmed
To go to the length
And be homeward bound
I move in circles
Repeat and repeat
I look like a fool
With worn and sore feet
I fake normalcy
But know I’m a fraud
Hiding my crazy
Promoting my odd
Our lady who is first
Our lady Margret, she is so great
All over the world there be none like her
Among the many she stands the greatest
What a lady our Margret is.
Her silence speaketh volumes
Her poise shouteth wisdom
And when behold
Her mouth she openth
Wisdom rich and warm
Floweth freely from her heart.
And alas! What a heart!
Our lady has!
So big and to the brim filled with love
And her smile.. like the sun
Warms the land and all our hearts
And when she standeth
Beside the big big man
You can tell, on her strength
Heavily leaneth he
And there are so many rooms that house us all
In that big warm heart of hers
There’s room for kids
The kids and now to school they wear a shoe
And to the mothers: the clinics on wheels
Safe clean deliveries to promote
And the needless deaths to demote
Oh what a lady our Margret is!
And our love we pour in droves
To our lady who is first
And we love you.. Yes we do
And we pray that long you live
For to the least big love you give.
Words
Are all equal..
Dismissing the
Call to elevate some
Demote others..
Yet in dreamland
Separation enthralls
And frightens
As words are
Unleashed to
Trick and treat...
Driven
My inspiration lies,
Deep within my soul.
When it comes to surface,
Therein I seek my goal.
There’s no control I have,
For when I come to see
What it is I yearn for,
Completely controls me.
Determination sets in,
Burning passion cannot hide.
I cannot put out the flames,
For I let my feelings guide.
I’m told to lose my dreams,
But whose place is it to say,
That I can never make
A name for me someday.
They try to draw it from me,
As they diminish all my hope.
I say I’m unaffected, yet,
My self esteem do they demote.
Very few can understand,
What drives and lies within.
I could try to explain,
But wouldn’t know where to begin.
I do that which I love,
And it loves me in return.
The more I get to taste the sweet,
The more for it I yearn.
When I set my mind upon,
The goal that stands before,
There is no turning of my back,
I spread my wings and soar.
Luckily for the bereft
grieving through darkness alone
dawn is abundantly deft
at its medicinal tone.
When a new morning appears,
duty abruptly commands
focusing thoughts on careers
and some routinized demands.
During distressing ordeals,
structural chores are, of course
spokes on restorative wheels,
turning with rhythmical force . . .
Multiple labors assigned
(whether unique or mundane)
comfort the crestfallen mind
like an elixir for pain.
Physical efforts promote
pleasing endorphins to rise.
Mental endeavors demote
misery’s spirit and size.
Affable people abound,
sharing benevolent goals.
Meaningful purpose is found,
forged in incredible roles.
Muscular hearts can attest
circular time is renowned
for its centrifugal zest,
helping the lovelorn rebound!
E. V. Wyler
The joy you bring is of amplitude
You sing the joy to my heart
No melody is merrier than your words
For your words are the sweetest
No heart is so adjacent than yours
You touch me the deepest
And with each touch of your hand
I love you more and more everyday
You depose my life of sorrow
You bring out the best in me
And set my foot to the blessed way
Joyous heart lives in my soul
For you demote the pain in my heart
It love you gain for me, my sweetheart
And a special joy in my heart.