Best Disallows Poems
You Rogue
You rogue, “you made a mess of me.”
First you held me like a flower,
which made me think that I would be
safe in your ivory tower.
But “we were built to fall apart.”
You rogue, you made a mess of me.
I thought you’d never hurt my heart.
Betrayal I did not foresee.
You gave me my own castle key
and made me think our world was bright.
You rogue, you made a mess of me.
“My castle crumbled overnight.”
You made me learn that’s how love goes.
Before you leave, look hard and see
the “love thorns all over this rose.”
You rogue, you made a mess of me.
Verse 1 line from Taylor Swift's "Hits Different"
Verse 2 line from Taylor Swift's "The Very First Night"
Verse 3 line from Taylor Swift's "Call It What You Want"
Verse 4 line from Taylor Swift's "****" (Soup disallows the title, but it means a loose woman and begins with S)
If the magic of the now eludes us,
it signals we are as yet fast asleep
and caught in a mind trap, dark fears nonplus,
deadening our sentience to love's bliss beep.
Ignorance borne of stupor is our sin,
whose roots lie in attachment to this form,
so to exit trance, the way to begin,
is to manifest within, a bliss storm.
Looking at thought forms as objects abstract,
our soul's nonchalant eye and tranquil heart,
disallows these images to distract
our focus to make bliss ignition start.
Befriending the void, we make it our home,
our consciousness aligned with gong of Om.
Our consciousness aligned with gong of Om,
ever present silence becomes the norm,
whence following scent of love, we so roam,
choosing with past beliefs, not to conform.
No sooner we relinquish our thought crutch,
shining as pure awareness, self-aware,
we imbibe clear wisdom, simply by touch,
as with love and light, our head and heart pair.
Soul’s choice to discard each and every ism,
enables heart to focus on our role,
which is to ignite the mind-body prism,
filling it with God’s light, scriptures extol.
As we can see, there’s nothing to be done;
our Self is living light, like yonder sun.
Our Self is living light, like yonder sun
and we see this clearly, when thoughts recede,
knowing now that as we so come undone,
we’re always complete, when love takes the lead.
The table is laid for bliss readymade,
if we but choose to trust the ways of God
and assigning love no grade, gently wade
in a sea of love that leaves our heart awed.
The path is easy and not difficult,
so dear souls, let us now embrace the truth,
lighting lamp of love, rejecting each cult,
beholding our true Self, here now forsooth.
Get ye, oh hermit, aboard God's bliss bus,
if the magic of the now eludes us.
Ma Bell, Where Art Thou?
I just constantly need to be shown
how to work half the gadgets I own.
At my now older age
the new “Smart” phone’s the rage;
I still have not mastered a DUMB phone!
(I posted the title again because Soup's title line
disallows question marks, which I find are very
necessary in some poem titles! And I bet if a
young'un reads this, they won't even know what
Ma Bell represents! BTW, it was the name of the
telephone company used by many in my childhood.
It seemed to have a monopoly on land lines!)
For "Techno-Limericks Poetry Contest"
The breeze of the morn she sought.
Her eyes were wild, as she thought.
Her hands tremble like a leaf on a tree.
She marked her steps silently.
Sylphlike is her frame.
She was a lady not a dame.
Within a distance, she looks back.
The mansion, she found, was in blackness.
So many skeletons remain.
Her cape begins to skein.
Angst, she releases a sigh.
The tears she would cry.
Lithe, she bends,
as agile as the breeze as the wind.
Interchangeability she disallows,
as she raised her head up to the clouds.
Perhaps, she thinks, life has been lived.
Ideology misconstrued she perceived.
This lady was once of rank.
But, now her spirit sank.
No authority does she has.
Moreover, no one cares.
The breeze of morning she seeks
to find inner peace.
Her story, she feels, must not be shared
too much pain to reveal.
She will not let the world in.
A dead life ends.
The beginning of a generation is her discourse.
She will stiffen her backbone and reform.
Solidify from the melodrama, she walks within determination.
Her ideas begin to form via life manifestations.
She hears the past as if it was now.
She frowns and shouts aloud.
“Why has my life defeated me?”
The vision recedes and she feels that victory is guaranteed.
“Who will cut me down?”
She ponders, as she turns around.
She had secluded herself to well.
She was not the one to change that.
"When my existence," she reflects, "is so well kempt
idiosyncrasies are mine to consider."
Remoteness defines the trees.
She has entered the morning breeze.
Pulling her cape close,
she breathed in to establish hope.
Via internal dialogue she spoke.
“I must linger in the unknown.”
________________________|
PENNED ON AUGUST 17, 2014!
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...
Tarot reading I desired.
She flipped each card and the world was before my eyes.
I thought that the spread would not have insight.
However, the cards did not lie.
I don't know this personally.
I am not one to believe a darn thing you tell me.
You are after something that does not belong to you.
I do not need leadership from a damned fool.
I would meet the fool in the world.
His tales would be told via our love.
Oscar was full of s***.
He knew the exit.
The gateway to technology expressed his ideas.
He seemed to believe he open doors for me.
I have learned him well.
The Tarot Reader showed me the High Priestess.
I would meet the fool in the world.
Therein, skill, logic, and intelligence would transform.
A new generation has come transgressing the old one.
Not to cheat myself, I will be succinct.
The Tarot 3 card spread Justice, The Lovers, and Death.
Suppression is an element that disallows a liberated mind.
Never to be fooled by love, the critical times will appear.
Righteous, herein, is within the Lord's omnipotency.
__________________________________________|
PENNED ON SEPTEMBER 14, 2014!
scream of awareness
like factor fifty lotion
a screen of cognizance
shields emotions in
rational thoughts
perceptions
illusions
mere grasps of appreciation
slice through an underworld
of dreams wishes misunderstanding
the past reeks through
misrepresents disallows
creates a narrative of survival
in the here and now
which harbours goalposts
dead ends aberrations diversions
if the road is wide enough
there is a place for turning around
at the cul de sac
listening to stepping stones
and trivia which overcome
the need to take and live life so seriously
we engage with life every day
die only once
fully aware or not
what the journey entails
if I can grasp a twiglet of truths
to keep shape or brake
in the full knowledge
that few things matter
passion and fire
can be rekindled
which only comprises
kindness and love
16th May 2023
Like a Potter, God has a plan and a purpose for us. Like clay, we are filled with air and many impurities.
He places us on 'The Wheel', where we must be schooled. He's ever patient to long endure with our disharmony.
He's beyond tolerant, going the farthest distance with us. He'll bake, shake, remake us; reshape us; return us; resend us;
It's hard to even imagine what good He would not do for us. He's unafraid and freely allows freedom of expression and freewill.
He knows no weakness that disallows Him to release us to our own devices. His Divine Law of Freewill often yield to our hastened demise and destruction.
Many are the tears of God, frequently poured out for the choices we make. But He is bound by His Divine Laws, intrinsically stamped upon His character.
Although He is Omnipotent to do as He pleases, He sometimes prohibits Himself from certain actions.
His Love is also subject to Divine Legalities of Holiness. And His personal attributes never contradict each other.
He is indeed vitally involved in the human condition'; but He forces neither success or failure; and He neither
dictates heaven; nor does He program hell for us. Each destination is a personal preference via free choice.
I must confess, there are times when I wish it were not so. But ultimately, the Father knows best how things should go.
03272017 FB PS Contest, Be Didactic, John Anderson
I can no longer go here or go there;
My heart disallows me.
Unless, you command it differently.
Methodically, anxiously, my will goes to waste.
I cannot do without you.
My heart is yours, indefinitely.
I wrote these five rules which grew out of some uncomfortable ‘life experiences’. Because of these rules, I am not a victim.
Rule 1. I will not bow to the mindset that feeds me the idea that I am a victim. My perception must be that of a victor, not a victim. The God in me
Disallows defeatism and victimization.
Rule 2. Although I realize that I cannot go through life unscratched, unhurt, and free of disappointments, I will not allow myself to develop a self defeating ‘me complex’.
Rule 3. If I discover that I am in someone's ‘line of fire’, I will simply distance myself. I will not develop a paranoia that tells me that I am constantly the subject of someone’s target.
Rule 4. The ‘poor me, they did it to me again’ attitude will not get me anywhere. This type of attitude will not achieve anything except a basket case on the strap heaps of defeat.
Rule 5. If I take the proper Biblical steps and keep Christ at the center of my life, it follows that I will not have a ‘victim mentality’.
(Originally, entitled The Victim Rules, written in1993) 09142016PS Contest, Victim Or Victor, Nayda Negron
In the late 60's in 'the second city', on the south side at 43rd and Calumet, there stood a mission center to reach out to drug addicts and alcoholics
I recall there was a young lady 18 years of age and addicted to heroin And there was 'Shaky' on Calumet who left the program prematurely
I'd say to myself, "I don't see how he can last much longer out there" Once, I was confronted on the street by an angry and threatening man
But just in time, a good Samaritan came to my defense and rescued me He forced the angry man to tone down, to move on, and leave me alone.
I continued my mission in spite of my fears and inhibitions. I confess; I was afraid in the valley of the shadow of death. But in spite of my fear, the Lord was with me with rod and staff. Nearly 50 years ago, God sent someone, maybe an angel in disguise, to stand on my behalf. A college student studying for the ministry, I could have been name 'Shaky'. I cannot say that my faith presently is so strong that it destroys my fear. But I can say that God's grace disallows my fear to destroy my faith. My fear said, "Leave this area"; my faith said, "Trust and stay".
For the longest time, she was known as 'The second city'. But for me, she was and always will be 'My first city'. She is one most beautiful that I once knew. From a teen I lived, learned, and loved her for years just a few. There were times I feared her, but left her not for fear. She robbed but never abused or beat me, but yet I love her still.
A very bold one in character, but she is also on the windy side and cold. Although I left Chicago, the truth is that she remains in my heart and soul.
08022017cjPS
This is a Messieurs Temple of high rank that disallows entry.
Here comes disturbance and confusion to dissuade at the door.
We will run fast, lock the entrance, and shout; now all is done.
__________________________________________________|
Verlena S. Walker
Contest Name: SIJO IN A TEMPLE [16-16-14)
Penned on May 01, 2014!
A quintessential graven image
A bunkum to this present age
Destructive and repulsive
Crisps grips with hands sieve
Pismal dismal for this mar,this mar.
Dictative,will never mind your scars
Disgraces all graces with one face.
Defaces characters in different jiff phases.
Addiction is perdition
It disrespects all traditions
Advances by graduation
With granular measurement
It weighs more than a person's sacrament
Adapts easily to evil
Works with covenly devil
Good addiction, am afraid is now rare
Leaving the opposite with posing flair
Addiction is evil
It disallows decisive decision
Brings preclusive deception
Takes you back with no solid description
Disallowing you with grips of concocted confusion
To blend with it's impending conclusions
Blasted, I am sorry I said that.
Blunt, however, I must be honest.
Life is magnificent to those that express themselves.
Well enough to know that insults are not the way to go.
Just a ground to stand on and one that disallows being ran over.
Strength empowers the ones that survive.
A climber of mountains and stratagem mindful are essence and time.
Well-meant but not stated right.
Sensitivity is shown but never mind.
This life will stand the test of time.
The hands disclose your pain.
You have suffered strife no gains.
Now, your life has reformation.
Your blessings conform.
You are vim and vigor learnt.
Staying power, Dynamism, Zing, Driven - that’s all.
Weakness disallowed.
Your feet did not trip.
You defeated what demons existed.
Your name is Helix.
_______________________|
Penned on June 01, 2014!
Milk drip slid pooled lake lick languish
Cirus segments slice sour anguish
Berries bowl buried, sandwiched
Split banana smiles skinless raw
Pokes ice topped mountains tongues adore
Indulged inhibition, law
Melt pulp passionfruit volcano
Delish disallows you say no
Seed sea syrup sweet halo
Sundae dips silky mango dice
Cubes correspond smooth cream entice
Twang of mandarin comes twice
15th January 2021
Written for Rob Levassuer's Contest
Seasonal Attention To Detail
Syllables 8 - 8 - 7