Best Derided Poems
With hair ablaze
a jester unconfined.
I scoffed at the mundane
its life declined.
My wardrobe
a riot
a rhapsody bold.
Mismatched socks my standard
stories untold.
In classrooms of tedium
rules I'd defy
Grasping forbidden knowledge
'neath watchful sky.
Craving for wisdom in
esoteric wells.
Chased squirrels with saws
casting fanciful spells!
Detentions for antics
the school's icy stare
Derided in classrooms
a spirit too rare.
Math teacher's scorn
a job painting lines foretold.
I retorted, "How much does it pay?"
- detention took hold.
Mom asked me why I never brought my girls home?
I chuckled and said, "They're not the type to be shown!"
The wild ones
the rebels
the ones full of flame.
Not the kind for a dinner
not the ones with a name.
Misfits my comrades
a menagerie strange.
United in chaos
defying the change.
Years danced in a blur a pantomime bright
But a disquieting word a sense of not quite right.
A whirlwind of antics a panoply grand
Impromptu escapes with career-shifting sands.
Near-death encounters with fauna
a squirrel, perhaps?
But the thrill
oh the thrill
fueled my madcap laps!
The thrill of the unexpected
a fading strain
A gnawing suspicion
a predictable bane.
The mask I had crafted
of rebellion's grand guise.
Cracked and revealed
the truth in my eyes.
The jester unmasked with a lesson I gained.
That the extraordinary in the ordinary
can be just plain.
No longer I chase the fantastical dream...
But accept the real where
beauty can stream.
For the truest defiance lies not in the fight.
But accepting oneself in the ordinary light.
So here I stand
flaws and all
unashamed.
The laughter remains though the fantasy's tamed.
With lessons in tow I'll mend and I'll mend.
Explore the mundane and find joy till the end.
For the greatest adventure
in life's simple quest...
Is finding the magic
within one's own breast.
Tania Kitchin deserves to be honored for her courage. If you would like to honor her, send me your thoughts in couplet form. Thanks.
I have some recognition that I'd like to bring forth to all.
Thanks to Tania for having our backs and standing tall.
I’m proud of your character and standing up for what you believe.
I just want to say you’re awesome, and I hope you never leave.
Mark Koplin
Tania Kitchin, cheers to you for writing with lucidity
Your poem of the day carried its weight with validity
For the courage to write the truth, you were chided
But you should've been praised and not derided
Tania, you're being honored for taking a stand
You didn't merit the need for a harsh reprimand
Jenna Logan
I thought that I’d better pitch in
adding support for Tania Kitchin
She wrote her lines straight from the heart
though the POTD honour was soon to depart
I feel there was no need to apologize
Cos nasty soup trolls we all despise
Jan Allison
Why reprimand Tania? this really isn’t right
She was only highlighting not starting up a fight
My support I bring to this wee collab
Your back...so stand tall, we have it, we have!
Angela Tune
When confronted by trolls and bullies, Tania will speak her mind
A lady of integrity and steel, I think that you will find.
She like many of us here wants a quiet life without any fuss
And if what she wrote that day was wrong then I'm Sparticus.
Tom Cunningham
Gather 'round me, my dears,
I'll continue the tale
Of a princess and her pirate lover.
Of her crown unencumbered,
They pillaged and plundered
As they wandered the seven seas over.
Crimes maritime were elating
And invigorating
'til Jack noticed a bulge in her tummy.
The princess first was offended,
But then she comprehended
He would soon be a dad, she a mommy.
Two months later, one morn,
Daphne's baby was born,
She said, "Time to rethink our position.
If we stay here, our child
Will grow wicked and wild,
We must provide better, milder conditions."
Jack's crew were confused
When he told them the news,
All they knew how to do was be pirates.
None of them had a dime,
And all too far past their prime
To go home and move in with their parents.
Jack chuckled and chided,
Their fears he derided,
And then much to their mirth and enjoyment,
He said, "We'll start a new industry
That sells hospitality
And offers year-round and seasonal employment."
Do you remember the king?
That mean, stingy old thing
Died alone in his big empty palace.
But before his reign ended,
His will was amended,
And Princess Daphne inherited alles.
She thought the place would work well
As a swanky hotel
Or a posh B&B just for pirates.
But Mad Jack and his gang
Were arraigned and then hanged,
They should have kept their retirement more private.
And thus, dear ladies and dudes,
My narration concludes
About Daphne's and Jack's days of glory.
She turned her dad's mausoleum
Into a pirate museum
And made a killing, some say,
Conducting tours every day
For visitors who'd pay
To hear a pirating princess' story.
Oh, I
I will
I will try and do my best;
While allowing God to do the best;
He's my provider;
And my guider,
He's better to me than I've been to myself;
The Lord came to me in a vision and He said;
"Wayward brother(sister) don't you worry your self;
And don't you wonder and fall while you wait;
The things you're going through, in the long run shall make you strong and great;
for I will refresh the weary and satisfy the faint;
Please allow me to call all, let's not wait;
I AM the GREAT AND ALL I AM;
Don't you be late;
My angels beacon you all at heavens gate;
And once and for all you'll receive the call;
Open your heart and let's relate."
For I will
For I will
I will refresh the weary and satisfy
satisfy
I will refresh the weary and satisfy the faint;
My child shall await your appointed time;
And then, only then I'll see you at heavens gate;
Now I know that you maybe only;
Only, trying to right those wrongs you've done;
But it's now or never leave those things;
Those bad choice decisions alone;
And I will come into the body;
and not just to satisfy the soul;
Just wanna let you know
I will cleanse you of all injustices and leave you whole;
whole
I will refresh the weary and satisfy the faint;
I will never leave you or call you inadequate;
I will refresh the weary and satisfy the faint
forevermore
(Derided from Jeremiah 31:25 )
Written by James Edward Lee Sr July 31 2007(c)
(From "More Than An Apple Tree")
Prophesies by seers may be derided and prophets may be lampooned. But time may prove them right" By Poet.
There was none to listen to him.
His words were like:
-A cry in the wilderness
that broke and shattered on woody trunks.
-The howl of a lone wolf
that rose in the dead of the night.
-The cry of an infant
that told the world, it was hungry.
-The cacophony of discordant orchestra
that left a jarring effect on the listeners.
His words sounded meaningless,
to a world that spoke a different tongue.
With no receptacle, his words like heated waters
evanesced into vapour and billowed upwards,
like coils of smoke to freeze into clouds.
One day it rained down,
quite unexpected…….
with thunder and lightning!
Hello Friends... I suffer from Severe Bi-Polar Disorder and this submission was inspired by
actual events that occured during one of my especially critical manic episodes. Be sure and
read Part 1 first so as to get the true gist of the poem and leave your comments here on the
Part 2 submission. Thank you for allowing me to share my pain for pain shared is pain
diminished.
Me, Myself, and I... (continued)
“Your, (Or “Our”), symptoms seem to intermit
And the fact that “You’re,” (“We’re”), a hypocrite
Tis no wonder we’re having such problems with diagnosis”
Then “I” had an idea so grand
To dispense with this at my own hand
A self-inflicted coup de grace would be my prognosis
So while the “Me” and the “Myself” squabbled
With courage newly cobbled
“I” spotted the dresser drawer and made my run
With fingers fiercely fumbling
Whilst they continued grumbling
“I” produced from the depths of the drawer a shiny gun
And now my life, though ill-fated
Was soon to be vindicated
This would affect us all equally the same
Would be no myself or me
No you, him, us, or we
But an inclusive all would be to blame
It took me a moment to figure
Out the safety on the trigger
Then “I,” (or “Us”), prepared to do the dirty deed
Then the barrel found my temple
And as it settled into the dimple
A still small voice did my “selves” choose to heed
Hence a moment of clarity
Harkened me to posterity
And I thought what a legacy to leave behind
“Can’t we all find a way
To save this miserable day
And avoid a broken body for someone to find”
And then deep within my soul
I felt and heard a simple drum roll
And the differing sides of me just subsided
And with my mind now as one
I worked to get this all undone
The whole business of this stuff I derided
And tis now true of fact
That I survived this ordeal intact
And lived to raise my face unto the sky
And here now as it ends
I find I’ve made good friends
With the “Me”, the “Myself,” and the “I”
Thank you for taking the time to share in my poetry. Please feel free to leave your thoughts
or comments here on this page.
J. Scott Burns...
In life, there’s plenty, and various points of view
Aged twenty, forty or more, give or take a few
Whether one has gone full circle, half or even third
This question has been asked, or you may just have heard.
When something you have done, or have decided upon
Like a referee’s call that’s been derided on
Do you calmly stay, to answer in rebuttal
Or do you go for drama, finding ways for acquittal.
At one point in our lives, we may protest or howl
It’s us who made the wrong call, or even did what’s foul
What to do after that, is anyone, everyone's guess
It would reflect our morals, the code that we profess.
Being adult is to try to make amends , apologize
sincerely, no platitudes,to those we've wronged, sympathize
Pointing not to others, guilty or not, to blame
Or say such other excuse, that sucks or just as lame.
Not seeking refuge, but owns up to accountability
Being an adult means taking full responsibility.
From all the things we've learned, what puts us to the test
To walk the talk, the meaning, separates us from the rest.
KIM PATRICE NUNEZ
The TRUE Meaning of Being Adult Contest - Honorable Mention
Sponsor : FJ Thomas
25 April 2015
His message to Mankind was divine love, much louder than
the desert wind hissing through the tall palm trees;
they heard Him, but sadly contempt built up when
they defiled the Temple by selling and trading instead of praying on their knees...
so Jesus got the whip and the lame and the blind cried out the word, " Hosanna! "
Hosanna! Hosanna!
Hosanna! Hosanna!
Christ was the faithful servant who was scourged, derided and crucified,
now, is the friend of all who believe in Him, not in a sinful world....
the Redeemer who carried the heavy cross to Calvary and died;
His resurrection was a victory over death making Him the eternal Lord!
Who besides Him is more worthy of God His Father, are we?
Anytime Jesus prayed, He finished that prayer with this holy word, " Hosanna! "
Hosanna! Hosanna!
Hosanna! Hosanna!
Nothing has changed...it was an unjust and mean world, and so it will be;
they lived for lust, power and money getting greedier than Judas who chose death;
find that good soul that resembles Jesus...is it that poor man who seeks mercy?
We can gather much gold, make him a crown and place it on his bruised head!
And while he sits there waiting for compassion, his feeble voice proclaims," Hosanna! "
Hosanna! Hosanna!
Hosanna! Hosanna!
All nations strive for supremacy, making useless and massive weapons so destructive,
they have no love for their neighbors...they hate peace and every beautiful place;
we have made it to this century...will others see a tomorrow not dark and delusive?
Pray like Jesus did and put your fate in the hands of the Almighty who's grace!
No joy or possession is greater than faith...get up, look up and shout, " Hosanna! "
Hosanna! Hosanna!
Hosanna! Hosanna!
IN THE NAME OF RELIGION
WE LIVE IN OUR OWN MENTAL PRISON
KILLING OUR BROTHRS!
CURSING EACH OTHERS
WHO IS A HINDU?
AND WHAT IS THE ESSENCE OF CHRISTIANITY?
WITHOUT ANY REALIZATIONS ,
WE ARE DERIDED BY INSANITY.
..IN THE NAME OF ALLAH..
"WE ARE WAGING WARS ,LEAVING THE TORTUROUS SCARS!
WITH GUN IN OUR HANDS
WE FIGHT FOR OUR LANDS
BEHEADING THE HUMANITY WITH OUR CRUELTY..
. WE PREACH TERRORISM.TO THE YOUNG MINDS.
THE ALTRUISTIC IDEAS NO LONGER WORKS
FOR THESE FANATICS ARE INSANE JERKS !!!!!!!!!!!!!
I feel for gentle hearts in this loud world,
Ever suspect, dismissed and derided,
For long has been the shy a songless bird,
That Darwin dismissed as ‘odd state of head’,
Jane Austin gave shyness a broader scope,
Calling it a ‘moral, mental disease’,
And Freud, his fame fending for men no rope,
With sub-conscious cladding, a twist of his
That smelt of ‘displaced love of self-scored goals’,
A simple disposition framed as law,
Oh poking fun and scoring birdie holes,
In matters straight, cobwebs of gauze he saw,
And sensitive violets were on blame,
Poor things, shrunk with self-deprecating shame.
Violets shrunk with disparaging shame,
And shyness drawn from society’s unease,
Scarce unto standard mould can ever squeeze,
O get condemned— a jade that could be gem.
Though sensitive nigh to a gawking gaze,
Here am I basking still in benign bliss—
A shy soul, they say, more inventive is,
And tolerant the more to worldly ways
That mistake plane shyness as being cold,
Aloof, and worse still, somewhat arrogant,
And value those that be loud, neddless bold,
I’m happy now that they were ignorant.
Let critics bask under ill-informed bliss,
I marvel, how creative this bird is.
Creative, this touch-me-not kind of bird,
Or call it a flower called violet,
An introvert of an easy mind-set,
One blessed with fecund skills, a bit absurd—
Skills lacked by too talkatively inclined,
While some greats confess to ‘fainting with fears’
Ere giving speech to some so-called speakers,
Some loners lack the skills called social kind.
I know, shyness has no one ever hurt,
But self that feels cosy under own skin.
Let shyness stay forever verdant green,
Let it never make me an extrovert,
That I live in my own solitude proud,
Innovative, gentle in world so loud.
_________________________________
Two recent books set my thinking bird brooding over bashfulness: The Man who mistook his Wife for a Hat, by Oliver Sacks; and Shrinking Violets: The Secret Life of Shyness, by Joe Moran. These books advocate that the shy should get a better deal, for they tend to be more creative. Here is the why: musing over, these three sonnets (crown of…) materialized that made me feel a bit elated.
Crown of Sonnets | 01.03.2017 |
The other day I saw the most pathetic thing I think I shall ever see!
It was so macabre and shocking that it piqued my curiosity!
Seems this old miser died having atoned for his many transgressions,
But was adamant about taking with him all his earthly possessions!
He had derided that well-known saw, "you can't take it with you",
And asserted, "Them's my things that took a lifetime to accrue!"
Even on his deathbed as he breathed his last and ceased to function,
He fretted about his stuff as the priest administered extreme unction!
In the funeral procession behind the hearse was a huge U-Haul truck,
Containing his suits and shoes, booze and gold plus all his other ruck!
Oft' I've pondered about that old tightwad and his ultimate fate,
And how St Peter handled the matter when he greeted him at the Gate!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
I ride the bus to work,
and sometimes I put on a very displeasing look:
I complain with sardonic humor,
" These city buses are never on time! "
The scruffy man beside me sweats and scratches his hair,
" It's so damn hot and lateness is a crime! "
And we both complain about
the bus schedule during rush hour,
" I blame the cops for taking away my Cadillac,
all they found in my car
was an empty bottle of Rum...
they smelled my breath,
and started to laugh;
I didn't drink any..it was my chum! "
A bunch of teens, chatting and cursing,
were listening to his conversation
and derided the reputed drunker
who lived in their neighborhood...and they went on
with their silliness, " You lost your clunker, because
you were drunk and stunk like a pig! "
" Listen, you good-for-nothings punks,
at your age I had respect for older people,
never said an unpleasant word to anyone! "
And venting his rage with frantic hands,
" If I were any younger, I'll zip your filthy mouths
with duck tape...dare me and you'll be so sorry! "
There was a brief silence, but animosity
for those kids was strong but he restrained his thoughts.
Danny was a smart fellow,
he always seemed mellow...
some thought he was gay
and became an easy prey.
Danny spoke with an accent
very distinctive to an extent;
even the wealthy derided him,
and one of them was Mr. Skim.
" Bastards!" He yelled with much rage,
" Hard times destroyed my elite image
and they insult me by tossing dimes...
while they munch on Chicken Fries! "
" Even in brutal weather, I holds sign
that reads," I wear no Calvin Klein'
jeans and sneakers, no Gucci' jewelry;
I have lost my job...have a little mercy! "
A good-hearted man approaches his sill
and kindly offers him a hundred dollar bill,
" Buy yourself a warm blanket and food,
some Coors to blast away your sad mood! "
Written on 10/24/2018
The Jihadi’s got an entire hour to kill
Hundreds of helpless patrons shocked and awed
An eon of murderous rage until
The long awaited reward from his “god”
Like schools, this Orlando bar predictably
Missing the one thing mass shootings lack
It’s no longer much of a gallery
When the intended sitting ducks shoot back
Ideology of disarmament
To some people, a feather in their caps
Yet it's to your eternal detriment
If mind-bending hatred falls in your laps
Hamstrung by their protocols, by and large
Officers stuck on perimeter, of course
No matter how they may want to charge
They are the police, not Delta Force
For a solution, this nation divided
Starkly different views on reality
The most effective measure derided
In its place, a plea to authority
When it goes down like this in disarmed France
To me it’s just as clear as a crystal
If innocent lives are to have a chance
Hear the message of the Pink Pistols
Brave by any measure to come out twice
First gay, then pro armed defense
Their deepest truths, no human price
Unwilling to appease or ride the fence
Helplessness has never stopped a rampage
There’s no reason to think it ever will
Only equal force can stop the carnage
When evil men have decided to kill
6/13/16
© Thomas W. Quigley
A paramilitary paramour
He sang those words…..
The words I could not summon sans a vociferous voice
lack of those words gave me nil another choice
lo to be laid low by chance and a chaliced BODY
TO SIP WHERE LIPS OF LUSCIOUS LUST HAD BRIEFLY ONCE RESIDED
A CUP WITH A DUTY TO BEAUTY which, by a smile, had been duly DECIDED
AS i,
BY THE HAND OF HAUGHTINESS AND NAUGHTINESS WAS EVER SO mystically misguided
AND BY HER disastrously dishonorable DECISION WAS DESTINY DERIDED
Woe to THOSE WORDS HE was urged TO Sing THAT WERE ETHCED UPON THE EDGES OF MY SILOUETTE
WHEN AT FIRST MINE EYES BY MAGIC had been MET
SHE Beside A ROULETTE WHEEL WHICH SPUN AT HER WILL AND her WHIM
THE first NIGHT SHE BECAME my “HER” AND i to be her “HIM”
A flicker WHEN A CASINO’S BRIGHT LIGHTS,
COMPARED TO THE BRIGHTNESS OF HER AURA,
WERE DEEMED TO DIM
BUT ALL TOO SOON That evening….
LIKE geriatric GERANIUMS ………GREW grim
AND I With SO VERY MUCH TO SAY
I with SUCH AND SUCH TO SAY
BUT TORMENT HAD TIED WELL MY TONGUE IN A KNOT OF NERVOUS TENSION
AND TOO MUCH ANGUISH for me TO POSSIBLY MENTION
As STOOD I SILENCED BY A SANCTIMONIOU SMILE
MUTED BY THE MAGIC OF A SEDUCTRESS GUIDED BY GUILE
I was FAR ToO WEAK TO SPEAK OF THE BLEEK
WHEN BEING MINUS MAGIC MANAGED TO MAKE A MUSCLED MAN MUCH TOO MEEK
Bearing the unbearable TWIXT TWAIN AND TWIGS on a trembling tree TO TWEAK
NAY, NOT I, THIS MAN who yet could not be coaxed to SPEAK
AND SO HE SANG THOSE WORDS WITH A SONG SUNG IN MY STATEMENT’S STEAD
HE SANG SOMETHING ABOUT SADNESS, SLUMBER AND A DESIRE FOR HIS EX-PARAMOUR TO Be BEGOTTEN DEAD
Well that’s what he sang
And that’s exactly what I would have sung
For a woman wherein my stars and hopes were hung
If memories of magic and the music of majestic grace had not been eroding my mind and DEGENERATING my head
Hell,
what he sang in his song so soulfully sung is substantially what i would have said
when my hope and lover both were declared dead
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