Best Disfavor Poems


Be Like a Tree

If men would but stand fast like a tree
Though fierce winds blow and rains fall
Bending and dipping but not breaking at all
You will stand in quiet majesty, tall and free

When conditions grow harsh with disfavor
Stand strong, proud and unwavering in faith
The tides will turn though it may come late
It will crown you with laurels of honor

When seasons turn favorable spread your arms
May your fruits give the motherless food and hope
May your shade give the homeless reason to cope
Then the world will flock to bask in your novel charm

When all that is you is rooted good and deep
No storm can reach the rich dreams you keep.

The X-Factors

THE X-FACTORS

I was told that structure forms from idioms.
That to construct vision is a way of seeing what needs to be done.
This is when norms of humanity are formed.
However, do the norms of God supersede all?
Would this mean a voice is only a voice?
That laws do not have to be followed.
That a hidden culture is manifestation of a society that is lawless.
Being that laws can be removed by mediums unknown,
Like fabrication that corrupts a system such as judicial.

A circumstance, quality, or person... 
A strong but unpredictable influence...
A factor that is label with an X.
A crisis that must be corrected.

The statuses of a mind significance must be rightful.
To allow lack of discretion though illogical intelligence, destroys the powers vested via the Constitution.
To establish an instrument of government, is to become a language understood.
A voice that brings logic to the multitude.
Yet, do the norms of God supersede all?
As a world govern by created life, our composition is to establish law.
Why walk a mindful journey along?

The X-factor labels wrong.
A strong but unpredictable prejudice of power.
A crisis that must be remedied.
A circumstance, quality, or person that negates social justice.

An erratic onset of disfavor through social injustice done by political leadership un-indemnify those that are injured. 

The X-factors must be destroyed.
A political focus that can manifest war.
____________________________________________________________________|
Written May 25, 2016!

Premium Member Mary's Farewell

In a short time, you will be my executioner.
Your actions shall be considered a favor.
You say to me “Lady, please forgive me”.
I, Mary Stuart, am grateful for your sympathy.
You are putting me out of my misery.

It was purely by providential chance,
that I should rule both Scotland and France.
My first bout with misfortune was the scene
where my French king husband Francois died at sixteen.
I would return to my native Scotland right away.
I faced subjection by my half-brother Earl of Moray.
James Stewart and John Knox scorned my presence.
Peace between Protestants and Catholics found no permanence.
With this problem, I became heavily involved.
During my reign, practically nothing could be solved.

My cousin Elizabeth has been a thorn in my side.
Her disdain and disfavor she chooses not to hide.
Elizabeth proposed with blatant effrontery,
that I marry the Earl of Leicester, Robert Dudley.
Such a marriage would bring an English-Scottish alliance.
I would have been a fool to submit to compliance.
My marriage to my cousin was out of defiance.

I thought I could love Henry, Lord Darnley.
However, Henry’s actions became a liability.
He helped kill one of the noblest men I would know.
Scottish Lords conspired to murder David Rizzio.

During my reign, troubles compounded all the while.
Soon I found myself a ruler without a nation.
Adversaries forced me to agree to abdication.
I would be placed into imprisonment during exile.

My involvement in the Babington Plot is the reason
why I am being executed for high treason.
Please let your blow be both swift and clean.
It shall release me from this ignominious scene.
I wanted England and Scotland to live in harmony.
May I be remembered this way throughout history.

Mary's son, James VI of Scotland eventually became King James I of a united England and Scotland.


It's You Again

I hear someone a-knockin’ at my door,
It’s you again, have we not had enough?
The problem is a complete lack of respect,
Well, your disfavor is shared no need to bluff.

I am much smarter aware of the tricks,
It’s you again, these guiles made me tough,
The problem is your way or just hit the road,
Well, your roadway is rigid spited with rough.

I grew my growth away from your tree,
It’s you again, rage hidden by fluff,
The problem is kindred but with spirit lost,
Well, your heart lacks craze among lovin’ stuff.

I insist you go with that same ol’ leave,
It’s you again, blazing amidst all the slough,
The problem is clear with no extra toll,
Well, your smoke is long gone merely a puff.

……………………………………………………………
Contest Entry: Desperate Housewife
Sponsored by: Poet Destroyer A
Placement: 7th Place
© Jesse Day  Create an image from this poem.

Reparation Rights

The groans of ancient years still echo in my bones. It is a pain 
That lodges in the weariness of Africa. Curled in her, the strain 
Of old world history. Out of her given darkness triumph shines 
The light of all cities, world clamoring, and out of her plundered mines 
Glower the bright towers of world economy. We who lost are owed 
Much here. My ancestors were used: mediums of exchange; 
Stock for slave houses and ships; rich cargoes of commerce; 
And cattle to the whip. Toiling night and day and no remorse 
Nor recompense for labor, in humanity's disfavor. I am owed 
Because all my life I have been on a journey, going nowhere 
On my own. I did not this destination set; No man can reach 
Another's goal, I am bound to ship 'gainst my will. My soul's leached 
Of traditions: language and peace. I pine far from King's dream 
So stereotyped, so American, I move in jungles of passion 
My captors cannot read. I am overdiagnosed with tensions 
Strange to my desire. I must be paid since I did not set here 
This destiny I built them; like a moon I move and shine fair 
Imprisoned in the power of the sun. My heart groans, and I 
Cough up tides amids the white buds of cotton, breaking like a boil 
Upon the day. Why? Those owed least get paid still from our toil.

Premium Member Too Soon Gone

The air drips over the lake
yet to be thundered awake. 
Mirages waver.
Bare feet on black asphalt quake
Keepers on sand tractors rake. 
That's summer's flavor.
Swimsuit wearers all partake
of young beauties and beef cake
as love is a savior.

Dip the babies toes, savor
the lake's cool icy laver,
hear her giggles rise.
See the lover's sink braver
and the old ones disfavor
soon to end July.
Scorched red by Sun's engraver.
Father's garden hose wavers.
Soon, summer good bye's.

August crisps the field's allies.
Summer's guests leave compromised.
The lifeguard's gone. 
It's too hot for much but sighs.
The town theater's cool as ice,
from the heat in drawn.
Watch the actor's prance in guise
Fall with have it's own surprise,
Too soon, summer's gone.


Creases

I hadn't noticed them when she was well—
The deep creases in Mother's face.
Now as she lay dying, they told a tale
Of selfless service nothing could erase.

In one crease I saw myself at age four
Crying out at night for her wearied embrace.
My teen disrespect was there—and more.
Each crease disclosed another disgrace.

Affronts of all kinds were in the creases,
I had sculpted them with foul disfavor.
The shame I now own seldom ceases
Just as Mother's love would not waiver.

Before she goes, I confess my sorrow
For having acted as an ungrateful son.
Balm of Gilead could I but borrow
And apply it to her creases one by one.

A Testimony

A TESTIMONY

I was lost in sin when Jesus found me;
He cleansed me within, His love surrounds me;
Now I am forgiven, each day’s a victory.
I trust in His name, He’s so forgiving;
He’s always the same, in me He’s living;
His love I can claim, it’s such a mystery.
Though I don’t know why His love He gave me,
And it often makes me cry to think He’d save me,
Still I know that when I die, I will live on high
In the mansion He’s prepared; I’ll be so glad when I get there!
Oh what a day ‘twill be when up in glory
His dear face I see and tell the story
Of His love for me that day at Calvary.

I will sing and shout of Christ my Savior;
He has brought me out of sin’s disfavor;
I will never doubt the change that He has made.
When I pray and cry, the Savior hears me;
Even when I die, He’ll still be near me;
How can I deny the price for me He paid?
I know when I fail He’ll not forsake me,
For His mercy will prevail, and He will take me
Back into His arms again, wipe away the stain,
Set me on my feet and send me on my way to walk again.
Oh, what a Christ Divine whose love’s unending
Through all years of time my soul defending;
I’m so glad He’s mine for now and ever more.

These words written to “Strangers In The Night.”

Premium Member About the Great Poets Here

(my friends i wrote the piece below in one long exhale. i did not change a word but 
rather let it sit as it fell. could the writing be improved. yes it could but why try to 
create a masterpiece when finger painting is so much fun. you have greeted me with 
wide open arms. you have been a great support at a stressful time in my life. so here 
it is from my heart to yours.)


they are those who ride us on their backs
 send us on journeys to places they built
one chess piece at a time

they put into words 
what we knew 
but could not say

why am I telling you this

there are wonderful poets here

choose a dish
 visit their buffets
taste more than one feel
give it a whirl

experience worlds you'll never find on a mac
visit their vivid dreams
drive one of their soap bubbles
ski on the end of a needle and thread

discover the barely open doors
the naked flesh between the creases
 displays lined in scrap paper
that one can absorb eyes closed

crawl  under and over the sea
tunnel the milky way to a brand new galaxy
witness a sky that like curtains part
peak at what is on the other side

life is short play nude
spend a bitty bit of time 
with bitty bits of folksy folks
 on a striped colored blur 

they are special the poets who live here
so do yourself a flavor 
put on your roller blades 
and go for the tricycle ride of your life

here is the best part and get this
(i hope your holding your breath
and turning red white and blue)
some of their poems rhyme
some of them even use styles

here comes the huge reveal
( unlike me who is not really a poet
and doesn't actually know it)
they use good grammar
extensive vocabularies
and here's the kicker
capital letters
and proper punctuation 

go figure
which they also use
well that figures

there are great poets here
you do yourself a disfavor 
if you're only here to write
and not here to read

The Consolation of Israel Start

( Concern for National Israel )

God decreed a covenant; a covenant of works, 
on Sinai He gave it to man: 
Obey the Law, from it righteousness draw, 
- be saved by it if you can. 

We labored and cried, and from it we tried, 
to earn our favor with God. 
We strained and strived, in failure we sighed, 
- and felt the disfavor of His rod. 

After many years through sorrow and tears, 
we discovered our nature too foul. 
Our confidence gone, we moved out alone, 
- ran to an idol named Baal. 

He too, was severe, filled us with fear; 
demanded our children to take. 
This was for naught, no righteousness it brought, 
- so him, we too, did forsake. 

On return to our land, we dealt with a man, 
many people worship as Deity. 
He taught mercy and grace; withstood us to face, 
- was nailed to a Roman tree. 

After the dispersion of all, denying Adam's fall, 
our leaders placed our trust in man. 
Utopia to build, by the strength of our will, 
- find satisfaction in life as we can. 

Doomed to fail, we made a Humanist hell, 
with torture as never before. 
Workers paradise gone, its doctrine all wrong, 
- salvation's not there anymore. 

Some men claim, to our “perceived” shame, 
that Messiah was the one crucified. 
They're common folk, without credentials of note, 
- and are quiet easily stupefied. 

Surely we, the learned, can readily discern, 
by reasoned, scholarly analysee. 
We're not easily fooled, as a general rule, 
- and we have an historic pedigree. 

Yet, if Abraham’s promised seed, was singular indeed, 
reason demands Messiah be that too. 
Then, our Zionist claim, to National Messianic fame, 
- is just another fanciful bugaboo. 

Should we look anew at him whom we slew, 
determine if his claims could have merit: 
The Prophets shed light on a Messiah in type; 
- shall we see if the scriptures declare it? 

In the Genesis of old, a wonderful story is told, 
of a singular birth - miraculous. 
The woman’s seed (Virgo), a virgin shall conceive, 
- calling him Immanuel (God with us)

Bread and Butter

Black clouds grow ominously in the distance
The sun dances on the happy blue sky with smiles
Rain drowns plants that have fallen in disfavor
Colors of flowers are kissed by angels on the wing
Monsters devour them in evening with black teeth
Children sing.  Farmers plant vegetation, are at one with nature
Clouds still gather at the fringes sinister and mean
Friendly birds build spring like nests to comfort eggs
Old age is no place to be when cold sets in to blind
The sun can only burn so much so brightly 
Enough though to see that bread still needs buttering

Segue To Smooth

A day that segues into smooth
From bumpy at its start
Is like a prize awarded
For not crumbling apart.

The smiles are that much sweeter;
The vibes all silk and satin.
The energy as upbeat
As the best parts of Manhattan.

Without a little snag or two
To bring about disfavor,
The smoothness wouldn’t be the same
We’d write about or savor.

Molding Young Minds

A dozen or so things I'd teach my guys,
school children and grandchildren likewise.

When they are young kids, I would make it plain
they’re not to be blamed for a neighbor’s pain.
Simple: no biting, no pulling hair, no hitting,
no screaming, no pinching and no spitting. 

Keep your hands to yourself, unless asked, 
personal space should not be trespassed.
Kind words offered in peaceful voices,
sharing delight when someone rejoices.

Go out of your way to help those in need;
return disfavor with a friendly deed.
Avoid nosing in another’s business;
when you have done wrong, you promptly confess.

The Golden Rule I would teach inch by inch
over and over, their mischief to quench. 

February 10, 2023

Listen To Self

Listen to Self 


Listen to inner self                                     
                       right here 
Believe me you will 
                       never fear 

Hasten your activity 
                       with fervor
Relieve  you really 
                       from disfavor 
Fasten your practice 
                       with livelier
Lively life becomes 
                       more lovelier

Words I Do Not Like:

disappoint, disavowed, disingenuous, displace
disastrous, disapprove, disallow, disadvantage, disaffect
disagree, disappear,  disapprobation, disarray, disassociate
disbelieve, dishearten, disharmony, dishonest, disinterest
disguise, disenchant, disengage, disfavor, disgrace 
disdain, discredit, discourteous, disconnect, discontent
discombobulate, disconcert, discontinue, discordant
discourage, disdain, disjunct, dislike, disloyal, dismal
disorder, disorient, disparage, disown, disparity, dispassion
dispirit,  displeasure, dispossess, discriminate
dispute, disqualify, disquietude, disregard,  disrespect
disrupt, dissension, dissociate, distort, distress
distance
© Jo Bien  Create an image from this poem.

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