Best Disables Poems
Help the weak if you are strong
Save the world
If you are brave
Stretch your hands
To the needy
If you care
A lot of souls need healing
Cos the world is in trouble again
If you are strong
Don't look away on
The weak under your feet
You might be weak one day
So touch the wounded souls
Help the struggling life
If you are able
See the disables
They are numerous
They are out there
They are bleeding
They need care
So if you are strong
Stretch the hands of
Care to a dying world
She has overwhelmed me with her love
My love is not for legs
Not only her skin texture
The properly shaped head neither
Her thoughts can entrance
Those of a woman without disability
They say I am accursed
That loving her is abominable
Yet they admire the outward look only
And ignore her for her outward look
Like disables are barren and disrespect her inward beauty
They thought she would not conceive
And now they wonder
They ask me, “How did you make it?”
For our son is healthy and sound
Now they know, disability is not inability
It squeezes all hope
Like something tied down with a rope
Giving one a name such as a dope
Alas! Who with this can cope
It makes a life journey very bad
Leaving one with a mind that feels so bad
Here a child isn't bold enough to call his dad
While any man would love to see his lad
Like an honour it bestows on man shame
Which stands in the way of one's fame
It disables the power of the mind as though a lame
Being hindered to play his life's game
Our progress it loves to bog
By defeating one's confidence through its cog
It's as wicked as a ferocious dog
Oh that it would fall off like a log
WAR IS THE GREATEST PLAGUE OF MAN
As war is fought it takes charge
And events spin out of control.
The madness of men can alter the soil
Which nourishes the roots of their soul.
Many things will forever change
Far more then wished to be.
As the wrath of war starts to destroy
Those things we fight to keep free.
War is the greatest plague of man,
Religion, state and sanity.
Any scourge is more preferred
Than the one which disables humanity.
When war breaks out, boundaries change
And all who die are a token
Of the rage that must run it's course
Before words of peace are spoken.
War I hate, though not men, flags nor race
But war itself with its ugly face.
When we lose faith in the brave, which die
Then we're not fit to greet those who cry.
What distinguishes war isn't death
But that man is slain by fellow man.
Crushed by cruelty and injustice
With his enemy's murderous hand.
War tends to punish the punishers
So the losers won't suffer alone.
The essence of war is but violence
Till the survivors come marching home.
Sometimes it's hard to defend what's right,
Sometimes we're forced to rise up and fight.
Sometimes we survive, while others must die
Sometimes never knowing the reason why.
The rush of combat is a natural buzz
Caused by fear, leaving nothing as it was.
Hunting one another like wild game
Without a shortage of those to blame.
Sometimes victory comes too slow or quick
Sometimes the cost on both sides is sick.
Sometimes God is asked to intervene
To help stop the savage from being so mean.
War is a hell we visit before death
Fueled by the whisper of the devil's breath.
There must be a reason man destroys man
But why it is so, I can't understand.
By Tom Zart
Understandable... the sensible
(three ringed circuitous) logic
to trumpet necessity
each individual moost heed
bedecking, cloaking donning,
ludicrous interloper facial covering,
(I prefer sporting
latest custom made
invisible máscaras faciales),
when commingling amidst madding crowd,
nevertheless coronavirus (COVID-19)
makes laughingstock kickstarting
maniacal paranoid testing yapping
authoritarians blabber ceaselessly
bleak household pandemic
plagues (sear ring)
robust human specimen,
hence yours truly,
a feckless (gibbon) primate
breathes sigh of relief,
why? cuz he counts himself insignificant
absolute zero worth
versus microscopic prickly orb
aging long haired pencil neck geek
best beat hasty retreat
to his man cave
not necessarily avoiding microbial denizen,
yet any potential suffering
scouting out troubadour woefully
jackknifed inept hideaway
availed no choice
rolls out Harris tweed Scottish matt
courtesy minuscule germ man
greeting me with gotcha!,
I willingly surrender
the only thing at stake iz my life,
which would immediately
ebb fate (mine),
automatically buzzfeed chap
offer no chance
for symbiotic relationship
as pathogens indeed choreograph
(dirty deed done dirt cheap)
loft hilly doth waft
through cellular skeins comprising
garden variety/ generic gent
herewith essentially crafting
his poetic epitaph
before onset disables,
disallows, and disvalues
one humble, intelligent, jesting
kindhearted, literate, modest
nincompoop aimlessly adrift
within Brownian movement
(*****sapiens random motions
viewed miles skyhigh)
ostentatious, piteous, querulous,
ridiculous, superfluous, et cetera,
thus forward donations
and/or pledge
(I promise you -
swear to dog
portion of me ashes)
to favorite charity
and will hoop to visit thee as repurposed
noun, verb, adjective, adverb, pronoun,
preposition, conjunction, interjection,
numeral, article, or determiner...
"Grey Rock"
I am just a Grey Rock. With all the rest I blend
To keep away a narcissist, an enemy not a friend.
If I remain uninteresting, unattractive, and dull,
I am like a stalk of corn with no corn to hull.
A Grey Rock attracts no attention to a narc's eye
And therefore, won't be fodder for a narc's supply,
Which, for their survival, they require upon to feast,
To fill in their black hole, they have from satan, leased.
A narcissist needs drama to feed on and thrive,
Along with flying monkeys to keep their goals alive,
Of destroying others to give themselves a lift.
Otherwise, through life, they aimlessly will drift.
So, if I seem rather quiet, in the background, faded,
It's to stay in the shadows, where I am and feel shaded.
From time to time I'll be more than a Grey Rock in a pile,
But solitude brings me a peaceful living style.
Perhaps, the narcissist, who's been stalking me for years
Will become very bored and afflicted with the drears,
When he finds he is being no longer entertained,
Because my presence by him cannot be obtained.
Since technology enables him to my life, invade,
Being just a Grey Rock, blended, in the shade,
Disables his intrusion by squelching his desire.
Where there are no sparks, there can be no fire.
Being dull, unattractive, boring, unappealing,
Has been peacefully rewarding and too, revealing.
A Grey Rock, from a narc, attracts no attention.
Hence, all the more reason to pursue this intention.
Written by Artsieladie/Sharon Donnelly
©2019-02-23 11:08:00 (EST)
All rights reserved.
What is fear?
It clutches and binds you;
Its clinch constricts your conscience and gestures.
It degrades and damages you;
Its triumph abolishes your own proficiency to prosper.
It stops and holds you;
Its impeccable knack of holding you still is impassable.
It overcomes and you surrender;
Its will to thwart your approach has you anxious to ensue.
It is burdensome and palpable;
Its load weighs you down and disables your efforts.
It is real and ever present;
Its nearness is felt in your existence as it hides in wait.
It is debilitating;
It is maddening;
It is caustic;
What is fear?
It is controllable and facilitated;
You can clamber over the hindrances it extends you.
It is fallible and erratic;
You can perceive its shifting deeds as it scours for a way.
It is provisional and remedial;
You can tolerate its manifestation or expel it into a void.
It is daunting and probable;
You can be valiant and foretell its vain efforts against you.
It is frail and cognizant;
You can be assured that fear fears itself; it is casually ended.
It is short lived and perpetual;
You can sustain longer than fear, you can evolve as it ruins.
It is ignorance;
It is a curtain;
It is cowardly;
Fear is crushed with the knowledge of the entirety of a state. In these periods of terror we must cast fear in its just position, behind us, and trudge headlong against those who intimidate and threaten the beliefs for which we have battled arduously to safeguard, preserve, and be tolerant of.
Fear is…
Not an option today!
A prattling tongue,
Is like a heat seeking missile,
Or ordnance of mass destruction,
It indiscriminately destroys,
And disables, with harsh words,
Those targets, who to it,
Are of no consequence;
Proverbs 17:4
THE RIGHT OF THE DISABLES
Do not discriminate me 'cause I am blind,
Do not abuse me because I am deaf and dumb.
Never look down on me 'cause I am cripple
And disabled like the wind of the earth.
Don't say "he hasn't got two coins to rub together"
We all at one time or other were disabled and helpless
We were disable at birth because we couldn't
Make anything happen without our parents.
We become disable when we are sick,then medicine
Becomes our surviving grace and life.
Doctor runs up and down for us,
The Nurse break their grains for us.
To be blind is not to be useless,
To be deaf and dumb is not to be sold out.
Being crippled and imbecile is not total darkness,
We have our price and pride in the society.
We are have our part to play in the society,
Give us our rights as a citizen also.
We becomes disable when we are old and infirmed,
There; we turn to the help of the younger ones
Our children becomes our hope and fare.
Don't hate me because I am blind,
Never thrust me away 'cause I am deaf.
There shouldn't be class segregation of our kind'
We make up the society like any other person.
Separation of our kind from others make us feel
Bad and unwanted.
Total darkness is not out of life.
We can sing and feel if we can't see
The handwriting on the blackboard.
We can write and see your signs
If we cannot hear the sound from you.
we can make beads, play piano and read book
If we can not walk like others.
Give us our right and discriminate not.
Teach us to sing like others
If we can not play football in the field.
Teach us to be happy like others,
We have feelings and emotions like others.
We do not choose to be blind nor
Do we choose to be deaf and dumb,
But nature made us who we are.
Treat us kindly like others in the society,
Give us our right to live among others
For we are equal to the tasks in the society.
Treat us as right as you treat yourself.
Let there be love among you all,
For where there is love, peace reign like rain.
Be your brother's keeper and assist one another,
Strengthen the weak and the poor among you.
Do not leave them at the cross road
To gnash their teeth in tears.
Uphold the poor and the weak ones,
Make them strong so that they could
Follow you in the race of life.
Love them like you love your flesh;
Do not reject them because of their plights
They are part of the Universe.
We all were once weak and poor,
At one time or the other in life.
We were poor and needy at birth
Naked, we come into this world with
No one helping us except God, the creator.
He then put us in the hand of our parents.
Malala fought for the education of the girlchild,
Nelson Madela fought for the freedom of the blacks,
What would you like to be remembered for,
The problem you created or the ones you solved?
Strengthen the motherless around you,
Touch a soul and heal the world.
Observe the right of the disables;
Tend to the laws of nature and live,
Help the weak ones around you,
Assist them to carry their heavy burden;
The journey of life is the shortes of all
Defend the fatherless and the motherless.
Protect the orphans in the street of pains,
Be their voice and their sight of sight,
Voice out for the timid voiceless around you.
Do not hold back good things from them
Because God had made you because of them,
Strengthen the beggars, the needy and the blinds.
Be the moses of their time,
Be the isaiah of their generation,
Act as the Joshua of the weak.
Nevre abandon them at the altar of sin,
Feel their pains as if you wear their shoes,
Do not send them away whilst you have
What they are looking for to live.
Strengthen the weak around you,
Love them like you love yourself,
Wipe away their tears in love
Give them the holy kiss of life
For love is the greatest law of all.
My heart stops pumping
As though it suffered a puncture
I feel the earth quaking
Resulting from neighing sounds,
Sobbing voices completing
The backup
Tracing the tracks of the choir,
An upsetting scene disables my sight
Suddenly I'm drowning
in soapy-sour waters of the poor
Pouring from their eyes
Turning my smile's up side down
Then I looked upon their wet faces,
It was a challenging thing
To perceive the cracked,
Dry lips signalizing hunger,
Their unwrapped bodies
Longing for clothing, with nowhere to go
I felt myself not solution enough,
But as I thought of other pieces,
I saw the puzzle completed
Together we bounced,
And simultaneously we laughed
It was time to weep no more
It was time to enjoy evermore
I saw no more families,
But I perceived one big family
For as though a compound,
We were chemically combined
Forming one solid rock
Estopping emotions of the underprivileged
Don't look for me among the weeds;
I write for the roses.
To the weakness of my pen,
I write for love not perfection of my art.
I am for the poor in the street, they are my Roses.
I am for the disables, they are my silver and gold!
I am for the voiceless and the helpless,
Those taken into custody for their rights;
They are my roses.
I am to them what stew is to white Rice,
Don't seek for the perfection of my art;
No work of art is perfect to see as perfection.
I am for those killed by bomb blast in my country,
I am for those ripped off by the government,
I am for the dregs of the Society not the looters,
Don't look for me among the Elites or Aristocrats;
Don't you look for the perfection of my art,
It may come white always; it is for the Roses,
The last dregs of my daylight can give them light.
To those that are left behind the church to beg,
The messiah shall be your hope if my pen does not
Keep you strong.
To those that are rejected at the gate of hell;
God shall supply all your needs if my pen could not.
To those that are humble in spirit, holy spirit shall
Dwell in your heart if my words could not satisfy you
But,
Don't you ever look for me among the corrupt;
I am with you in body and spirit, writing to re-create
Your hope which was embazzled by the black angles.
I write for you, Roses, my heart smiles to you all.
Ka anyi noro na ndokwa!!!
(C) John Chizoba Vincent.
(This poem is especially wrote to
dedicate US President George W Bush
on his great speech on war on Terrorism)
Few People who has this belief,
Iraq is a great opportunity to defeat,
US and their coalitions, they are trying,
To establish a democratic system,
That provides equal opportunity,
Without any distinction of prejudices.
A sophisticated system that honours a child,
Women, men and physical disables equally.
To offer devices to regard their fraternity,
To provide security and safety to protect,
Freedom for mankind to abolish exploitation.
Bounded labour and humiliation,
When a mean person didn’t understand,
The way of discussion, a challenge,
A right decision for civil protection.
If a Religion has declined the identifications,
The intellectual work and dedications,
Struggle for living to protect human rights.
Then a right alternative to offer same devices,
As an honest and great person,
In a day light, as a brave warrior did it,
We shall fight to win, a message of God,
Who said to me to attack on rebels,
They never regarded others as human.
If you deserve to live in heaven,
We shall provide you that opportunity.
We shall fight to protect the mankind.
Living on Earth is only our motive.
A fool, now swathed in emotional blue
Too jaded to see the incapable truth
The moments we shared, should I be content?
Or grieve for the time that will never be spent
in your arms, in your heart, in your thoughts as you rise
I'll never be all that you need, in your eyes
I'm losing my heart, I'm losing my patience
As loving so much has lost it's elation
It harms and disables, slashes and scars
Mocks every wish that was made upon stars
Coloured Dogs
Grey is the dog that haunts and whines;
Whose boredom curls, whose mist entwines;
Whose ennui dulls a lively mind,
Whom inspiration deadens.
Blue is the dog that grips the heart -
Turns melancholia into art,
Who tears the light of hope apart,
And drowns all joy and laughter.
Yellow’s the dog who runs and hides,
Who shrinks from life’s high winds and tides.
Whom confidence and hope deride,
Whom cowardice disables.
Red is the dog whose fury roars,
Rejecting peace, extolling war.
Destroying all and seeking more,
With anger all-consuming.
Of all the dogs, Black is the Beast,
Grey, Blue, Red, Yellow, all released;
Descending on the mind to feast,
And turn the soul to ashes.
This pack of coloured dogs is mine.
I hear their bays, know every whine.
And to their states I must resign.
It is my lot, my fortune.