Best Dishonour Poems
“Maverick”
Mavericks are made
in the silence
spent
where
freedom
is kept locked tight
in solitary confinement
moments melting
down visceral pain
through love
and
loveless madness
fierce swords are
grown from what’s
left of the shattered
Heart’s core
self-belief taken up again
intellect fox cunning
running the gauntlets
between the
dishonour guards
in Hell’s burning rain
Majesties are silver spoon
and coddled born
Mavericks are delivered
from hot kitchens and
cool as milk made
to lead
Warriors Brave
through
The Storm
Mavericks are made
to reign
(LadyLabyrinth/2019)
"I am the master of my sea"
Maverick
An unorthodox or independent-minded person.
Asleep in my cabin as we crossed the ocean
Woke up with a start to a sound like big thunder
All around me now was just noisy commotion
An iceberg we’d hit that was tearing us asunder.
I have survivor’s guilt suffer nightmarish dreams
See widespread panic hear the sounds of loud screams
I would love to forget that night of memories
But to do so would somehow dishonour the deceased.
written 9th April 2019
For writing challenge 1-April, 2019-Its All About 8- Poetry Contest.
Sponsored By Dear Heart.
The Olympic Medal
To be given a gold medal
You have to win the gold medal
To take drugs and cheat
Is winning without merit
To dishonour the olympics
Is to dishonour Yourself.
Time together is the most precious time of all,
fleetng moments to be grasped,
secret, only seen by those who happen by
oblivious to the circumstances of what they see.
Ordinary to the uninformed eye,
two people rapt in each other sharing a common purpose,
a purpose that hides from the rest of the world, for now.
The joy of stolen hours, illicit pleasures made exciting
by the latent dangers, dangers that are knowingly ignored.
Commitments made to othersmust be honoured,
but, do these deeds not dishonour those commitments
in a way we do not wish to comprehend?
The denial of mutual pleasures,
the simple call to say, 'How are you?'
The holding of hands in public,
the litttle squeeze that tells all without words,
the overt passion of a greeting of hello or au revoir,
but never goodbye,
all relegated to a privacy behind closed doors.
Two pairs of eyes ever watchful for the familiar,
two silent voices unable to tell best friends.
The world does not need to know, yet,
the world may never need to know unless,
unless the illicit assumes a legality
and the consequences for others are not only acknowledged
but faced in a way as yet beyond contemplation.
The legality may diminish the excitement
that has fed the illicit, and then what happens?
From Heracles immortal line sprang Kings of Agiad
The blood of Gods and heroes in mortal flesh thus clad
And such was Leonidas, half brother to the King
Cleomenes of Sparta, of whom the poets sing
When came the call to Athens aid when none would take the stand
Leonidas Spartan stood, three hundred by his hand
‘We will take and hold the field against the Persian hordes
At Thermopylae prepared to die, we greet them with the sword.’
Thespian and Theban heard and rallied to the call
Their phalanx in the narrow pass an impenetrable wall.
Xerxes watched the waves of men diffuse against the might,
as Grecian stalwart heroes held, until the loss of light.
For two full days the Pass they held, whilst facing fearful odds,
until undone by Ephialtes, betrayer of the Gods.
Across the hills by mountain path were the valiant undone
And Leonidas understood the rearguard shield was gone
He called the valiant to his side and marked his standing stone
Let thespians and Thebans turn, here Sparta stands alone
Three hundred stood in scarlet lines their valiant death to wait
and leave the field upon their shields as every Spartans fate
Thus fell Leonidas King, who stood when none else dared
Defending Athens and all Greece lest dishonour ensnared
Remembered in the halls of Zeus with victors laurels bound
Three hundred stood three hundred fell and sanctified the ground
And thus the Delphic Oracle’s foretelling came to pass
That all of Sparta be destroyed or else King Leonidas
One year upon Plataea’s fields, with the final battle won
Remembered every Grecian heart this noble Spartan son
Our Shame,
"PRESIDENT" & "LEADERS"
Full grown men,
old,
devoid of vision,
Lacking in wisdom,
wicked weaklings
protected by paltry paid gun men
great grandfathers,
unwilling to train Younger Leaders.
Untrained themselves in morals & reputation,
Liars,
Tired & fickle in frame,
feeble. opaque, lacking imagination,
These exalted clowns,
drawn from rickety defeated military,
All but a weak one from the creek.
Gangsters,
Elevated as Presidents,
or Governors and Leaders,
We are Trapped,
fooled by cynosure of degenerate,
immoral men, destinies robbers,
watching the drowning of a once rich Giant.
confined felon,
demented through age
rogues as Presidents, Senators, Governors,
Protected by corrupt Police
and a demystified compromised Army,
Oppressive DSS, Abusive servants of the masses,
robbing the future of unborn kids,
denying all in the midst of Plenty,
shaming us all.
We have no Leaders Yet.
None since 1960.
Profligate band of men,
overtaken by fraud & moral turpitude,
A merry-go-round by failures,
sixty Plus years after Muzungu,
Illiterates still in charge of our destinies,
Despised in Ghana
scorned in Zambia
Overtaken by Ethiopians
locked out by Botswana
Denied by Rwanda
disgraced in Libya
Mocked in South Africa
Bared in sane countries
where corruption is an indelible blot,
incarcerating the guilty away from sane men.
These crooked Old recycled Failures,
Destroyed, ruined and damaged destroying still.
unwilling to retire in their dishonour,
Killing, abusing and incarcerating Young men who dares tyranny.
A former Giant,
Now a Crawling Giant of Africa,
Beggarly borrowing amidst plenty.
Over two hundred million divided mass,
waiting for “godot” .
procrastinating liberty for fear and docility
A country of Countries Ruined by Military men
masquerading as democrats through tyranny
A Cancer in Africa.
Honour
Bravery Gallantry
Venerating Glorifying Respecting
Soldier Warrior Conscie Coward
Panicking Daunting Alarming
Defeated Vanquished
Dishonour.
© Harry J Horsman 2011
I bow to the word
a servant of the honest truth
secrecy is held in the eyes of the beholder
not one single soul can relate to an individual's suffering
To go against the church
is to go against God Himself
to dishonour the Shrine of Justice
filled with misery it cares no more
Father it was never my intentions to offend You
holding the cross forgive me my sins
I will defend the truth until my last breath
if it were to be condemned for being right
when the time is getting shorter
that should be your dawning age of wisdom
I watched a documentary on India
where a fourteen year old girl
had acid thrown over her face and body
because she didn't want to talk to a boy
Get a life people
perhaps she didn't talk
because you were violent
your act speaks volumes
parents state you will marry this boy
yet it is their body and their life
granted with love
sometime's, adults make better decisions
yet you punish your child
for taking the right
to control their life
they dishonour the family
does not inflicting pain dishonour the family
does not killing your child dishonour the family
does not throwing acid dishonour the family
the world looks on and see's no honour
You create a dowry
to give your child a head start
but now the dowry spoils the male
and create's the death of your girls
you spoil your men
treating them as Gods
yet treat your girls as slaves
honour comes from hard work
the child that goes to work everyday
create's honour
the child that get a good education
create's honour
teaching the male's to demand dowry's
does not bring you honour
loving all your children equally
brings you honour
If my child had been born
I would have loved her
If my child had made a mistake
and gotten pregnant I would have cared
I would have stepped up to help
I would have looked after the child
well she continued to get her education
I would have allowed love to gain honour
You throw your girls away
to save you paying the dowry
I think you should throw the dowry away
to save your girls.
Stand up for life and stop the dowry.
And those members of the body which we think to be less honorable, on these we bestow greater honor; and our unpresentable parts have greater modesty, but our presentable parts have no need. But God composed the body, having given greater honor to that part which lacks it, (I Corinthians 12:23, 24 NKJV)
It would be better for him if a millstone were hung around his neck, and he were thrown into the sea, than that he should offend one of these little ones. (Luke 17:2 NKJV)
To dishonour the honourable
To abuse it's innocence
A forever fact
Is an evil cradling.
The offence of sexual abuse
Bruises the tender parts...
Of the heart
And soul
And mind
And smile.
But healing comes from the God-view
That the dishonoured has greater honour
That He is the avenger
For those whom lack.
And there is much provision that heals...
The heart
The soul
The mind
The smile.
To those dishonoured...you have great honour from the One most entitled to give it.
Blemished
She lives with dishonour;
Besmirched
With hate, she’s surrounded
Broken-down
Her fate was thrown into darkness.
She is the mother of evil
A scum-bag of a woman
A lowlife
A rotter
She deserves death;
An eye for an eye.
In response to the mother who abused and starved her one-year-old son until he suffered a ‘horrific’ death, then sobbed about it on Facebook.
Tonika Willoughby, 28, is said to have inflicted appalling and ultimately fatal cruelty on her toddler over an extended period of time, which culminated in his death at her home in Labadieville, Louisiana, on November 9. 2020
A Facebook page that appears to belong to Willoughby
She posted: ‘November 09, 2020, is.
Da worst day of mah life,’ on the day of the toddler’s death.
Part Two
A Prince may not bring dishonour to his kingdom
In times of strive for the sake of Christendom;
If he seeks spurious honours to feather his nest
And alienates a people who die for freedom.
A King is he who in high danger opts for sacrifice
Like Kattabomman seeking no excuse nor artifice
Met the East India Company’s Collector all alone
And fought his valiant way through gunfire malice.
The history of Tamil kingdoms in all ages gone by
Teaches us the same lesson made proverbial by
An Ettappan who in his insatiable envy of grandeur
Caused the ultimate Tamil Prince to hang high.
We live in a world where politicians are the real Princes
Who wear no crowns but their ministerial pince-nez;
Yet other captains struggle against such fait accompli
And in jungles forge a human bulwark of chances.
It’s not the cherry on the icing that makes a cake
If underneath the slender icing over a lake
Wild worms bore at the crust raised in protection,
Won’t people then take a Kshastriya for a fake.
If you want to be king then let your voice be true
Renounce all wish to be ordained a true blue;
Let the people choose what they want for a crown
If they need you, will they not call upon you.
Uneasy the head which wears the realm’s crown
While the people fret and fume and frown;
See how caretaker John usurps the Lion-Heart’s throne:
Uneasier the head become the butt of a clown.
Lay aside all thought of fame
In the quest for a feudal name;
He who assumes an ancient title
Must prove worthy of the same.
© T.Wignesan March 2006 – Paris, France (from the sequence/collection: Words for a Lost Sub-Continent )
The Great Illusionist
You tried to defeat the beast
But failed to bring them your truth and virtue
The people’s hearts showed no mercy
The master servant of the people
And all they did was put you on the highest steeple
The steeple of shame and dishonour
The hypocrisy installed its father
And the whip, its main device
And now in these modern times
Far from your glory past
We are all tamed by the same structure, system and class
Your words do live on though greatly misunderstood
And now in such worlds divided we are lost
Lost without our guide and your guidance
Removed from your whispers and philosophy
Distilled in absolute silence
But thank you for trying and being exceptional in your deeds
We only can take your words though, assumptions mislead
And when we go about our business as slaves within the boundaries
Of this order we can only blame ourselves
For our ignorance, selfishness and cowardice
We ourselves have clamped our lives
With sins, troubles and strife
We put ourselves on the sacrifice of falsehood
Supremacy permitted to carry out his work
greatly loved by heavenly beings
disaffection spirit, ripened into revolt
once again, get caution of the supremacy
thou refused to be cautioned
sophistry and fraud pioneer
hard to discern, genesis deceiver
supreme neither deceit nor flatter
that, he imbibed
apparently, waged dishonour was highly honoured
veering rectitudness cum fidelity
delve the frail of humanity
getting men similitude you
the thing himself, unmasked deceiver
why is thy path zigzager
manufacturer of sin and his clang
extirpate spirit of rebellion
modified the given tenet
against divine government
nature of sinful nurture
come on! you longing to rule?
yeah!
no obligation, rule the caliber of your sinful nature
forget not the allegiance of God's creature
rest upon a conviction of his justice
we are all acquainted where you will end
heavenly infernos
peerless you, with your clans
caliber of sinful nature
tainted sinister folks
ponder not, am not a stakeholder in your entity
not single I, but multiple dextral folks
solid rock I stand, not to be betake
prepare, zillions depart thy darkful cage
enter lightful space
... the hour has come to liberate the world!
divine inferno is thy ward
collectively citizenry crowd
greatest controversy ever seen
black snake under the black grass
Oh! death knell of yours was rung
Haaa! "it is finished"
God is the sovereign God
who is equally sovereign and merciful
He's decided according to His wise decree
those that will bow before His rule
It's not dependent on human will
nor any of your own exertion
but wholly of God's loving mercy
such is His unfailing compassion
Scripture declares God told Pharaoh
I raised you up by my almighty power
to show it in my sovereign purpose
for My name be proclaimed like a divine shower
The mercy of God falls on His choice
those chosen by His irresistible grace
for God has mercy on who He will
this is God author of Redemption's case
The potter has authority over the clay
making one for His honourable use
the other fitted for dishonourable
but only God's sovereignty can choose
Let's give thanks to this God
for mercy unearned and undeserved
to us who deserve His wrath
receive salvation freely preserved
AUTHOR NOTES: Romans 9:15-21(KJV) For he saith to Moses, I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion. So then it is not of him that willeth, nor of him that runneth, but of God that sheweth mercy. For the scripture saith unto Pharaoh, Even for this same purpose have I raised thee up, that I might shew my power in thee, and that my name might be declared throughout all the earth. Therefore hath he mercy on whom he will have mercy, and whom he will he hardeneth. Thou wilt say then unto me, Why doth he yet find fault? For who hath resisted his will? Nay but, O man, who art thou that repliest against God? Shall the thing formed say to him that formed it, Why hast thou made me thus? Hath not the potter power over the clay, of the same lump to make one vessel unto honour, and another unto dishonour?