Best Denouncing Poems
Aimlessly wander veiled memories of yore
Each passing cloud subtly brings to fore
Recalling regrets, where laments agonize,
Thinking of you, searching forsaken skies,
Muting spent emotions of anguished eyes.
O how we rejoiced in blissful sunny days
When dawns arose on glinted arc ablaze
As golden beams pierced shrouded haze
Defying onslaught of darkened malaise
Intent on blotting zealous romantic phase.
Recalling ardent dreams with you I stroll
Where gleam of your smile brightens soul
As allure of amorous past feelings cajole
Emanating from desires heartbeats extol
In language of passion yesteryears scroll.
Every cloud etches effigy of love gone awry
Yet, thunder of stygian vibes fiercely I defy,
For return of clear skies in your longing I vie
Denouncing certitude hosting forlorn sigh,
Remorseful of ego that callously bid goodbye.
March 8, 2023
Placed 1st: Each Passing Cloud Poetry Contest
Sponsor: JCB Brul
i repudiate this clock on the wall
each moment frozen of time
lashes back in internal strokes
against my weary soul
its ticking erupts
like thunderous echoes
within the confines
of my tortured mind
on this darkened night
i slip 'neath the shadows of past
running in circles
trying to escape
the grasp of hands
that taunt like death
eternal torture
through infinite seconds
that beat like this heart of mine
as the pace amplifies through mind
bereaves me of the present again
as i face my own fears once more
unkept from another sleepless night
i arise with the same fury as a sun
beneath the bloodied skies
denouncing the storms
as they rage on
July 2, 2020
Time 8 word Challenge
Sponsored by A Dear Heart
There's one who acts like a righteous queen
Prattling peacock, she loves to pose and preen
She is surly and gruff
Heckling slurs with a huff
And denouncing the life-saving vaccine
The haughty queen is quite aloof
and sometimes she acts like a goof
Should she be on trial
For covid denial
Believe me, I’ve seen lots of proof
She's favored by one, her Prince Demonic
He bows to her highness, Queen Sardonic
Praising her fortitude
Conspiring to collude
Feeding her compliments that are moronic
Her majesty thinks she was perfect at birth
Pompously aggrandizing her self worth
It's tritely ironic
Her hubris is chronic
She's filled with bitterness but little mirth
Prince Dom is seeking attention
Pining for the Queen’s affection
Their words are debunked
They both have been plunked
So much for the Queen’s perfection
The old Queen stood tall and haughty,
Gawking at me, judging me naughty.
Expected me to bow
And she called me a sow,
I refused, calling her throne a potty.
Anonymous PS poet
Our soups matriarch, started an almighty feud
By decreeing she's perfect, the queen of her brood
This flawless diamond
Reigns on Shutter Island
Even insane Leonardo's, pleading to be moved
Another anonymous ps poet
The queen poses behind a shadowy façade
Thinking she is perfect before Almighty God
Disgusting as a wicked witch
Cannot locate a worthy niche
Here among good poetry mortals of the sod.
Yet another anonymous ps poet
Jan Allison and Mark Koplin have joined me in this limerick collaboration. We're not telling who wrote which verse, but you're welcome to guess.
If anyone wishes to join in this collaboration, please send me your addition through soup mail.
Beware of Evil; it is a cunning
trickster, well-versed in tactics of deceit.
But alas, my words fall upon deaf ears;
greed's addiction isn't easy to defeat.
Flattered by your image in the mirror:
you consider yourself learned and clever.
Yet blind to truth, you fail to see its light,
and thus, have no beacon whatsoever.
And as life's games continue, Evil smiles
with contentment, watching from the shadows.
And navigating the dark corridors
of your mind, Evil sneaks by on tiptoes.
Realizing the folly of your ways;
you choose to walk on a different path.
And in prayers, laced with repentant thoughts,
you beseech God's mercy; yet fear His wrath.
Exposed to God's unconditional love,
Evil's glided facade starts to crumble.
And denouncing Evil for what it is;
you see the light, and no longer stumble.
You captivate me with your ambiance-
even inside my misguided muse I seek
you with all that my soul has to offer.
I’m hypnotized by the way you look at me
without searching for my becoming flaws,
astounded that the strength in your touch
can make me weak without warning.
You say I am opulent; abundant in beauty-
I wonder if you know you are the magic
that holds the stars up in the eventide sky.
You bring a clarity into my life showing
me what's truly right, denouncing what's
wrong, shining a light into my shadows;
you have brought meaning into a world
that I had thought was meaningless,
telling me you are incomplete without me.
My essence sparkles when you are near-
brighter than any celestial being.
My existence melts into your warm softness
taking my breath from this magic we create.
October 21, 2019
A poetess collaboration
You captivate me with your ambiance-
even inside my misguided muse I seek
you with all that my soul has to offer.
I’m hypnotized by the way you look at me
without searching for my becoming flaws,
astounded that the strength in your touch
can make me weak without warning.
You say I am opulent; abundant in beauty-
I wonder if you know you are the magic
that holds the stars up in the eventide sky.
You bring a clarity into my life showing
me what's truly right, denouncing what's
wrong, shining a light into my shadows;
you have brought meaning into a world
that I had thought was meaningless,
telling me you are incomplete without me.
My essence sparkles when you are near-
brighter than any celestial being.
My existence melts into your warm softness
taking my breath from this magic we create.
A collaboration...
Contest: introduction by collaboration
Sponsor: silent one
Date:10/2019
Why is it called 'Black History Month'
Black means void of light
why because we are nonwhite
this should be voted out
because the name Human Race
carries more weight
Sure, I understand
it is a way of denouncing the browner skinned man
Why is it there are tanning booths
for the lighter or paler skinned people of the world
they would rather call us 'boy' or 'girl'
Well, the fact remains we are really the majority
who else is given one entire month to give high esteem to for the accomplishments
of the so-called minority
In all actuality every time that you use your dryer thank G.T. Sampson
or stop at a traffic light thank G. Morgan
you are thanking God Almighty for blessing the person who you call 'black' for the ability to create these valuable worthwhile necessities
So, when you hear of someone having an open heart surgery thank the man of the human race with the browner skin for being the first to perform the first one
Ah, the victories we have won
do not frown
do not fret God will get you, yet
to admit that deep in your heart
we all play a part
in the world being 'it takes all kind to make it go around'
no one is better than the next
however, when you get ready to text
think about Mr. H.T. Sampson who invented it for your leisure
pleasure maybe even a luxury
Or when your horse needs a shoe say a silent 'thank you' to J. Ricks
Can we all just get along
became a catchy realistic reachable phrase from a lighter skinned man who was beaten almost to a bloody pulp for being a man you called 'black' by those of a different shade of skin
jealousy, hatred, discrimination, alienation, poverty, hunger, envy, degradation and demoralization has been shared even experienced by all race
the Human Race
The Dressmaker
A woman with overflowing kindness, patience and vigor
All- in-one: a dressmaker, sewer and a tailor
Devoted herself unselfishly to her family and neighbors
Her endurance and sacrifices are up to the core
A woman of household light, a very good wife
Her divided attention and care was sometimes our knife
A great mother and granny denouncing our strife
You’re brothers and sisters-her kind words are rife
A woman who seemingly doesn’t know how to rest
On siesta hours, late at night…still stitching at her best
Sewing draperies, garments, repairing them the least
She’s a great dressmaker and mom who’ll not turn down a request.
Copyright2016Leonora Galinta
All Rights Reserved
April 5, 2016 4.10pm
I saw a note pinned up today
that sheepdog trials are underway
I thought, at last, there's justice for the flock
I imagined my fine elocution
as witness for the prosecution
denouncing deeds by doggies in the dock.
Two-leggies might not have the smarts
to see through arcane canine arts
and arrogantly think they are in charge
They're suckered to the masterplan,
believe the wolves are tamed by man,
when really they are free to roam at large.
In court we sheep will have our day
and see the wolves all locked away,
and finally they'll throw away the key;
then celebrate in field and dale;
in years to come they'll tell the tale
of how the woolly ones became the free.
The abyss so deep so profound
It didn't thwart our efforts
It made us strong of mind
Gave us a sense of unity
To see thru the light
At the end of this
endless Tunnel
this is today,but yesterday's
Gone by recalling a time
When our bodies ached
Working 16 hour days
16 hour nights at 50 cents
Working long tedious hours
Without a break and getting fired
For unknown reasons
No protection or job security
Low wages day in and day out
Our clothes reeked of sweat
Our hearts cry out to deaf ears
And Our souls bled
We held the bastion
And the flicker of hope
As we stood shoulder to shoulder
Man woman child
Reclaiming and the denouncing
Those who wanted to break up
Our beloved union 1199 Seiu
Call it what you may
This is a message of hope
Unity sacrifice and survival
Brothers and sisters
United we stand
Divided we fall.
And die.
The fight will continue...
All rights reserved
A.Camacho jr.
1996-2015
This was an opening monologue that I recited
For job security and cutbacks
In Harlem,NY
For ratification of a contract
For 1199 SEIU Health care workers national union
Attended by hundreds of workers and city officials
The struggles and the fight continues
Thank you
On Devil’s Night
There once was a devil queen on Whispering Lane
Mean and cunning her crew driven insane
For millenniums hurling malice
Content in her palace
Casting a malevolent muse throughout her reign
The King no longer amused by sonnets that shame
Concoction’s of besmirchment tangents that defame
He sends for his men
Calls out to them
bring me an enchanted quill before the sunrise flame
On Devil’s Night…
Along trails a fairy ascends with cascading red hair
Whilst devil queen sleeps inside her musky lair
Dreams of incantations
linking locution associations
Hater of poetry that allures not hers drives despair
As the fairy sings with an angel's voice
The King listens he has made his choice
Let it be so my loyal Jester
the fairy you‘ll sequester
The zealous Jester lures to come rejoice!
The jealous devil queen a tedious word crafter
Responsible for cancelling laughter
Now casts her spell
expelling the fairy to hell
It’s there she sings her happily ever afters
You see she was in a realm from hell, and not even a spell could save her.
The new reign of elect it is when she’s saved, and the devil queen will finally reflect. Denouncing her kingdom and foreboding.
Keep Fairys free! To express their poetic revery
for Thirugnanamoorthy
Remorseful, the noonday sun
Frizzles with the stealthy wind
Under the rubbery mountain green.
A calmness has come to rest
From having tossed in its sleep.
The forest has taken leave
Of the hunted horn and drum.
No more the tapper late of nap
Scurries to the haven of a nest.
No more the rattle whisper fades
To nothingness in a lonesome rest.
No more, no more, for the heavens
Sleep and all the troops sleep too.
The sinewy python stretched past
Clumsily the ragged rock and branch.
The Owl has called its reveille at last.
And the forest sleeps with the wind
Gently fanning some whisper closer
And closer, every wave, a venomous flick
Of a serpent, a kiss of rest.
(Letter describing the situation in Malaya and denouncing
treachery, written in 1952 to Thirugnanamoorthy who was banished
by a British magistrate to Ceylon in March 1952. The letter never
reached him.)
© T. Wignesan, Seremban, 1952. Pub. in Tracks of a Tramp : a
first collection of poems, 1951-1961. Kuala Lumpur-Singapore :
Rayirath Publications, 1961.
On the 5th of November in 1605,
When the new religion of Protestantism was taking hold,
Political activist Guy Fawkes was arrested and executed,
For attempting to detonate Parliament for Catholicism old.
We burn the guy on a bonfire every year to commemorate,
That he was destroyed and not the centre for political activity,
The crux of legislation, set by hard, honest and tough debate,
By the people’s representatives who effect a stealthy integrity.
Guido Fawkes became Guy through his strength and prowess in war,
Over whether Spain’s government should uphold the catholic faith,
So denouncing Guy reinforces this wrongness of just one religious table,
And sedates our own tendency to informally become our own fable.
Guy Fawkes converted to Catholicism in his teenage years,
And fought to keep Spain catholic in the Eight Years War,
Then travelled to England where he met other like minds,
Who sought to reject the Calvinist future that was in store.
The group felt only effective if they were able to detonate,
The Houses of Parliament in a mammoth gunpowder plot,
‘Cos King James I was securing Elizabeth’s Protestantism,
Which by law through representation was not going to rot.
But one man of that group could not abide his conscience,
And in a letter told made the authorities aware of explosives,
That awaited ignition in a room under the House of Lords,
Enabling a gang arrest and the execution of the subversives.
I was told in the beginning
That a wish may not well be unicorn
With two winged thrust-thronged
To soar upon the cumulus,
And for those who are wishing
Wishes to fall on their laps
Were wholly rendered redundant,
Those who want to attain,
Tainted and tarnished past attainment
Forgetting forward fortune
And glory in goods temporary.
Now those who dole out mischief;
Sowing the seed of acrimony
Rotten in corruptible credo
Reshuffling reservoir of redundancy
To establish the roots of inertia,
Of Demo-CRAZY
Of masq-UERADES
Of lob-BEASTS
Of cons-titu-PATION
Of elders
Of fools
Of economy
Of pain
Of nemesis
Of crying jags
And hopelessness, deep furrows on wanton minds
Remembering the deceit of denigration
That brought doomed to deserving daddies
That it is always a surprise,
Unwilling stallion in the midst
Of same blind, semblance sahibs,
A remembrance of the past remembrance
Raising the boys to take the Salutary gauntlet
of the favour done
To pave the way
For stock taking and a quiet get out,
Of the unending, pass measure euphoria,
Then it fell on the laps
Of a fiery warrior; then
The dance of the macabre
And a sycophantic applause,
Mutatis mutandis, endless queues
Of rebounding stomachs
Roaming, rounder the ruins
Recounting remnant reservoir
Denouncing, declaring deceiving
All one enmeshed in the same pot
For the final stir of the arbiter.
When angst and hate my rancor stirred
Fuming indignation, reddening my face,
Emotions choked as muscles tightened,
Slurring my speech, abandoning grace;
And rational discourse then disappeared
Vowing vengeance to correct a wrong,
Dissonance hollered, yet no one listened,
Donning grimace that discords prolong.
Denouncing voice of the unjust, unfair,
I brewed in anger, drowning in malaise,
Despising disgust that misdeeds convey
Engrossed in egoistic, despicable ways.
When pettiness of feud conscious decried
Longing for peace soon buried my pride,
Conjuring sensibilities of forgiveness divine,
Rejecting impulses cordiality was denied.
As laments mellowed calming ego’s demands,
Mending misunderstandings sanity won
And dialogue sought armistice of win, win
When penitence rued things said and done.
Embracing silence, we hugged in remorse
Vowing to reconcile that which roiled us;
We understood, accepted, found balance,
Questing for benevolence~ loath to fuss.
July 1, 2022
Placed 2nd: Forgiveness Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Anoucheka Gangabissoon