Best Discretion Poems
It's a public forum,
you should be discreet
and not divulge everything
to strangers you meet.
Some things should be
left to imagination
and not detailed
for the entire nation.
Your feelings are hurt,
you feel betrayed.
Too late you regret
the comments you made.
Think before posting
is my advice to you.
Once it's on the internet
your secrets are through.
* inspired by Team poetry soups current blog
It's that time of year again, when eliminating unwanted baggage or trash ( your choice)...we have ALL the options available to you..start your " New Year " with a clean slate....Join us for our first year anniversary date...
Thanks to all for a dream come true...
I couldn't have done it without all of you...
So jump in your car...and bring a friend...
Make all your troubles come to an END...
Wahoo..Wahoo... we opened store three....
So hope you'll join us , so you can be FREE !!!!!
Looking to get rid of unwanted, useless baggage...?
Due to abuse, you have an advantage...
mental or physical it doesn't matter...
or just not meeting your criteria..what's sadder ?
Having to live everyday when not happy...
doesn't help your attitude , makes it rather crappy...
Look no further... we have the solution....
and can bring the " issue " to a conclusion....
Call today for the information....
as we now do business throughout the nation....
No mess, no fuss, just leave it to us...
No questions asked, as this is a simple task....
So don't wait, and do not hesitate...
All this compliments of " Gator Bait ".......
* limited time offer...recommend a friend...and get 60% off each one you send...!!!!
PS: do yourself a favor and read the previous writes regarding " Gator Bait " and hopefully all will make sense...
Discretion…and Passion
Valour proclaims indifference to safety and
Is kindred spirit to passion, which links
The spirit and body, the soul’s
Physical manifestation, and drives
Humanity forward.
Beethoven had passion, that his music
Shouts to all who will hear, though
He could not, which is his valour,
In the face of physical infirmity,
Proclaiming humanity.
Yet we are exhorted to be discrete
In our valour, to moderate our passion,
To stand aside, to Falstaff truth and
Feign death, not of our body,
But our soul.
Passion. Mandela’s mandala for a universe
In which humanity to its own self is true;
Aristotelian cause of human achievement,
Passionate action, the embodiment of
Individual valour.
Napoleon’s red cloak, or Henry’s sniffing
Of the sweat of fear amongst his men:
Which is valour, which is passion,
Which leads on to victory, the
Reward of valour?
So in modern times are we urged
To discretion; to submerge our passion
In the workplace beneath concerns
For our place, our employ, so
Selling our soul.
Which shall it be? Gold trimmed display,
Or modest blue. English determination
And Welsh courage, or
Showy symbolism; a façade of discretion,
Or passionate action?
To thine own self be true and
The passionate thus do, and
The discrete do not; so do
Organisations move ever forward,
Despite those without passion,
Or valour.
As twilight falls
The moon recalls
Mischievous waves reverse motion
Shores and shoals
Surrender their souls
Relent,giving back to the oceans
Spent waters reveal
Secrets concealed
Yet somehow remain discreet
Sands coming and going
Oceans ebbing and flowing
Taking some secrets dark and deep
Barefoot lovers
Hidden from others
On the shoreline walk hand in hand
Under the moon
Impassioned love blooms
Entangled they drop to the sand
Clouds shrouding the light
Make love in the night
Their impetuous scene discreet
Silent moon won't tell
The ocean will swell
At the bottom their secret will sleep
an original poem by the "poemdog" Daniel Turner
When the night is at its blackest and
the moon sneaks behind the clouds,
and the owls began to call, you know
there is no place to hide.
When your brain begins to ponder, certain
things that you have done, and your heart
begins to flutter; while your skin starts growing
bumps, you know that he is near.
Hiding under sheets and blankets, and leaving
all the lights on, and locking all the doors and
windows, will not conceal your fears; for
he knows what you have done.
You try to call someone, but your mobil phone just
won’t turn on, and the gun you hid under your
pillow somehow isn’t there. A cool and pleasant
breeze enters, through a broken window pane.
Will he use a gun or knife you wonder, or will he
put his strong hands round my neck? Perhaps he’ll
use a wooden bat. How did he ever find me after over
twenty years?
Guess I’ll just pretend to be asleep, and hope he doesn’t
make me suffer, like what I did to her.
DISCRETION IS THE BETTER PART OF VALOUR
The river has run dry, its bed is empty sand.
Across the flower carpet’s dim and dusty land
Penstemon and brave little Brittlebush,
Expecting an inundation, stretch in a rush -
Spreading petals and leaves which their vast
Tapestry of color and life weaves - but they fast
Revert to survival tactics and retract petals in fear
Of the drought of the Sonoran summer each year.
......................................................
Note
The poem’s title is taken from Shakespeare’s HENRY IV PART ONE
Written by Gail DeBole
on January 31, 2025
Shush, it’s a Secret, Hush, Hush!
Social Media could harm human trust.
Seems to be on trend
To post to offend and
Discretion is now borderline mute.
These videos/posts may not be true
But it’s something to read and to do.
It’s a secret, Hush, Hush!
No longer means much
When it comes to the bullying Untruth.
There do seem to be rays of sunshine
In posts that help you unwind
In a positive way
To uplift your day
As they place nasty topics on mute.
Sure, AI has found its place
To help all of the human race.
Keep uses upbeat
And away from the cheats
Who will use it to lie to your face.
DISCRETION
NONET
Discretion - better part of valor
Don't rush in making decisions
Repentance comes at the end
Ask God's inspiration
Don’t be too drastic
Need self control
Discipline
of mind
Need.
‘The better part of valor is discretion‘
(Henry IV, Part 1, Act 5, Scene 4)
By Shakespeare
After 38 years of marriage
I have learned to be very discrete~
I just say yes dear you are right
Why hast thou oh white night
given self to infliction of pain?
Reverently you seek the inner sanctum
of divinity's last reign-
Greatness inscribed on vastness of
bloodless discretion-
Where is the garden of yesterday's feast
of golden friends?
Hath the dawn of rebirth silent and demure
given naught to fates decree-
I live yet to die
but death is but a dream
on the sea of remorse
Each day silver raindrop tears
sheltered by the crystalline knowledge
of you-
So I am given to memories
and my last dance
a chance to light the path
of golden conception
through which the door
of all my yesterdays
give way to new life
Have you been born yet?
Are you alive?
This poem was written and inspired by (E. E.) Cummings who is one of my all time favorite
poets. He invokes not just the mind but the spirit of all those who read his writings
It is important we do not get our knickers in a pinch
And wind up acting like the mean, old Grinch
Especially during this season of happiness and cheer,
Let’s lay aside our nasties and unleash them next year.
Surely if we can be kind and patient for the while
From our critics, we will most likely elicit a smile,
And, who knows, we may even forget our discontents,
For “discretion is the better part of valor” makes sense.
written December 3, 2021
The logical way to deduce and to reason.
To monitor time.
To chart the changing of seasons
To believe.
To have faith.
To trust in sweet Jesus.
To pretend that god's will does nothing but pleases.
To smile.
To cry.
To hate.
To fear.
To compulsively
Consumingly
Long for the one you hold dear.
The slap of the sea against the jagged face of granite.
The profound, minute presence
In the universe, of our planet.
All that we know is known and not known.
Significance lost to the more significant significance.
The grandeur of the glorious lost to the tempering of the monotonous.
Every other day I dream.
Laboring away my life in the in-between.
Nothing said.
No breath lost to conversation.
Within my head
The perpetual drone of resounding contemplation.I steal from myself more than any thief could ever pull thru my bloody hands.
My fears cause more pain than any loss I have ever known.
My desires drive me with a passion greater than any pleasure I have ever
Gained.
All that I have imagined has dwarfed all that I have experienced.
And yet, the mysteries of my mind validate my existence.
So much power
Over such little substance.
Every other day I dream,
Laboring away my life in the in-between.
I walk without moving
Across a world I can't see.
I have devoured my own soul for sustenance,
Yet I am left starving.
Who could enjoy the feast,
Having eaten themselves while they waited?
Every morsel has no flavor.
Each bite of this life is bland.
Though I strive to enjoy and to savor,
I cannot help but spit-out your offering of sand.
When I was 13 I was diagnosed with depression.
I had multiple therapy sessions.
Trying to find a solution at my discretion.
I was under such operation,
Trying to tell my confessions.
I was unconsciously being repressive,
And trying not to be aggressive.
Just wanted to find it without overexpressing.
But when my life is consequently depressing,
I feel like I need to address it.
I go to therapy to feel refreshing,
But end up with more stressing.
Consequences of my own actions
I need to stop surround myself with dissatisfaction
And start finding the attraction.
I want to grow up and have a passion
But this world makes it so hard to feel a sense of compassion.
Maybe I’m the problem
And I need to find a solution.
I want to be a part of this evolution.
Be the contribution
And find the solution.
Hopefully I have the attributions
And not being excluding.
I’m just trying to find a conclusion
Before it all becomes confusing.
Let me stop here before I give the illusion
That I'm trying to be substituting
I am grateful for all that had happened
for it has made find some satisfaction
In conclusion, I just wanted to say stop all the confusion
And stop with the illusions before some takes the dissatisfactions of their own actions
And creates a distraction with different abreaction and interactions.
Be wise
Practice foresight
Discern* with God’s prudence
Midst schemes of evil attackers
Truth speaks!
*Malachi 3:18 … Discern between the righteous and the wicked, between him that serveth God and him that serveth him not.
June 21, 2019
"Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart
be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, my strength and my Redeemer."
Psalm 19:14
Discretion drives an unpredictable wedge
into sheltered, relaxed, indiscreet lives.
Its thunder designs to whet the cutting edge
of thinking which stays safely in the archives
of routine – same-o grungy words and garbage.
An effective author might sometime contrive
to create a more concrete channel for language
where skillful articulation wants to thrive.
Virtue mixes committment and knowledge
smoothly, so God’s Word (truth) and tact survive.
October 27, 2021