Best Dispute Poems
Santa stood in the warehouse
Full of nearly empty shelves
Last night they’d been ram raided
By a bunch of discontented elves
Recently infiltrated and recruited
Into an association of packing staff
Whose ideas and demands and wants
Caused Santa to cynically laugh.
He could have held out for longer
That much was very clear
But the clever blighters
Had subverted his reindeer
To make matters even worse
Pushing poor Santa to the edge
The blighters had gone and clamped
His only working sledge
Only thirty days to Christmas
He knew of no other way
Than to meet their demands
For increased shift working pay
He’d do what it took
To bring things back on track
And ensure he had enough
To fill his mammoth sack
He reached for the Gordon’s
For one last large stiff gin
Then went to arbitration
With a forced and fixed grin
Now that you've convinced me, and I've convinced you
We still stand here stuck with two points of view
6/15/22
Brian Strand Premiere Poetry contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand
Your country against my country
Why are you guys trying to break the county?
With markers already placed at the borders
Yet you try and claim what is ours.
You are not satisfied with your own
That you avoid what is known
You got yours; we got ours
So leave us be, or we'll be here for hours
We're all here to fight.
And we're all here to protect
What since time rightfully belongs to us
What else did you expect?
From Belizeans who will always protect
The land we call home, this you must respect.
Belize is our country that we'll forever defend
So don't be surprised if our fight never ends
"Thou shall not kill"
Was etched in stone
High on a mountain top
As if God cracked
His funny bone
And no one heard it pop
We kill to eat
And not just meat
But weeds and insects, too
And no one grieves
For garden thieves
Who stop by for a chew
Our need for food
Fuels endless feud
Leaving us in a bind
To feed our brood
We must conclude
Mankind just isn't kind!
Together – he and I – him and me
We grow things in abundance
Green beans, tomatoes, squash
Okra, calves, chicks and pigs
Guineas and turkeys, some kittens
A puppy who is mostly grown
But never too old to play
Together – we – us – our
Hearts thrive on a world
Of abundance, plenty, wealth
In rich, black earth that gets
Nutrients from a downpour
Pounding the ground and bouncing
Drops off the rocky path
Together – he and I – him and me
We listen to friends who bicker
Consuming time with quarrels
Never thinking about how this dispute
Can grow, like our cucumbers
Vining their way from a short word
One weed, to something you can’t pull up
A vine that leaves you feeling
Lost, lonely, silent
Amid the beautiful blooms
That proceed the vegetable
And the tired ache that throbs
Inside a heart who is breaking
From the sorrow of squabbling
dispute arises only from difference of choices coupled with self esteem
The perpetual calendar must be wrong!
It says I was born on December 5, 1941…
a Friday,
But that can’t be, for Mama washed clothes
and hung them out on the line
the morning of the day
I was born.
She said it was
a raw, windy, blustery December day
when I was born
and everybody knows
Mama never ever washed clothes
except on a Monday
her whole life, because
Tuesday was for ironing,
Wednesday was for mending,
Thursday was for quilting, and
Friday was for cleaning house
in case company came
over the weekend.
So, I could have been born on
a raw, windy, blustery day
but I think it was surely
a Monday.
The perpetual calendar must be wrong!
She struggles with a pen
She is castrated man
Your manic, damned nightmare
She's a dickless sychophant
Overgeneralize
You've fallen for a lie
You're so hopelessly blind
She wields you as a knife
She will cut herself open
She will make you stay, watch it
She will do it again
As long as you're her man
You are not her boyfriend
You are not her husband
She is not your savior
Save your prayers later
You will cut yourself open
But she will not stay, watch it
They were haunting me
And now they want to be
Engraved
In stone
Somewhere
But hardly will I share
What they made me
We aren't as open as they think
We are closed books
The writer waits for me
Life is better when
Those voices that you keep
Sing in harmony
Together, company
And if you want to be like them
Look like the innocent flower,
but be the serpent underneath
You whore,
Georgia
You were everything that I could eat
But you never nourished me
I ing starved
I ing starved
I crashed my car
I ing starved
You ing coward
Now I weep
For others will say the same of me
Sometimes I've got to ask-
And can't help but exhort aloud
Am I haunted, Rask?
In this aging house
Where my granny passed
Grandpa died in this room
Marks were left of you
It's about time that I moved
We have a little boy
And a little girl
Or am I paranoid?
My bones ache just to stir
My niece,
My friend,
And I
In my bedroom
My niece,
My friend,
And I
Taking pictures
My niece,
My friend,
And I
I feared a ghost
That I
could see,
Clear as the day
We went to hide
It followed us,
Shiver, resile
I saw that girl beside
My niece, my friend
Don't be afraid
I'm terrified
Rivalry
innocuous dispute
through the spaces between
the cat and the mouse...
As ignorant men
fight for money
and dogs for garbage...
Minute In Dispute
Mine may be minute;
Highly in dispute;
Need a substitute.
Jim Horn
Dispute the fact,of the ill-mannered man.
His eye's obscured,
he don't understand.
So things are cofusing,
well it's not so amusing.
Your world is full of,
the ungodliest pleasures,
nightmares, fantasy's,
and obscene jestures.
If you could know love,
from a humble childs heart.
You could fit in society,
and make a new start.
Oh but you have not found,
the goodness within.
Your bite is yet deadly,
without piercing the skin.
You've done your part,
you know we can't stand.
Dispute the fact of the ill-mannered man.
Robert Dale Taylor
Thirty years ago
I was a boy of fifteen
Shoulder length hair growth
Biker boots and skinny jeans
My Father's best birthday gift
A stunning Levi denim jacket
Everyday since I've worn it
It's gained a few patches
Recently divorced I met a lady
Sweet as a honey pot
Who loves and respects me
But we've hit a bad spot
Jealousy of my denim relations
Is causing a massive strain
Her demands were outrageous
She wants to burn my denim
This denim is my best mate
With lots of fond memories
Even wore it on our first date
Her reply made me worry
It was your charm that I liked
And your good looks obviously
Your clothes are a terrible sight
To be so insulting is a liberty
So now I'm in limbo
Lose my precious denim
Or the girl has to go
What a terrible dilemma I'm in
Tap, rack, bang
It's too late
The gun jammed
Wait
Take my aim
Breathe out flames
You are damned
Prey
You're no mate
You're a saint
Use your hands
Pray
I am fake
You create
For your sake