Best Dissention Poems
We were more popular
When you felt lazy,
More important when
We cooked you potatoes and gravy...
To please our boys and men
We would go to any length,
Even begged for mercy
Were pillars of strength...
We are the glue to glass houses
Being abused by the hour by the day,
Even ignored or unheard of by many
But we will continue to love come what may...
Negatively spoken of around the world
And frequently pacified by our nation,
But the torch GOD placed in our hearts
Is not a symbol of accusation more of edification...
Tear us down kick us to the ground
But we will always strive for equality,
We are free women accepting nothing less
Our guardian angels fill us with spirituality...
We are women born to cease dissention
We are women not women of extinction
Categories:
dissention, inspirational, life, peace, people,
Form:
Rhyme
As thephilosopher readies for his p soup anniversary
Remembering he found this place last Christmas Day
Surely the best gift he did receive
Now for some holiday fun, DON”T LEAVE
Denise Narayadu I can't end the line with her name
To mispronounce it with a bad rhyme would be a shame
Her writing has very much intrigued me
In her poems often it's myself that I see
Of Anne Lise Andressen what can I toast
She's in a contest of which Debbi G is the host
Of who Santa Clause is her knowledge has a lack
If she asked I could easily have told her it's Jack
I mean look at Jack, white beard, hair a jolly feller
If my put my original line here, I'd be locked in a cellar
Any American could mistake Canada for the north pole
It's cold, I've never been there and at times there's a lot of snow
Jack Ellison in his Santa role this time of year
Oh from the straight and narrow often does he veer
Constant approval from the p soup ladies, I know he smiles
If I was Santa his naughty list would stretch for miles
Andrea D secretly a hater of the Villanelle
That’s atrocious what’s my basis you say
She hosted a contest and a thousand forms she will allow
BUT a max of 12 lines leaves me saying CHINGADO
PD, the SWEETEST poet destroyer she told me
A philosopher asks how sweet a destroyer can be
The poet in me reads her work with much confusion
The imagery addicting but my understanding a delusion
Becca Lucas the girl who lost her muse
If she had schizophrenia she may have several to lose
However several other problems this would pose
If one of them was mean I may be a victim of her prose
FJ Thomas gave me the wonderful gift of the Fibonacci
She might deserve a song but my muse isn’t Liberace
She wrote the Art of Being Broken, a deep piece but not long
Did some guy really leave a comment quoting a poison song
And finally I will close with Richard Lamoureux
If you haven’t seen his clerihew read it TODAY
Quiet humorous, he pokes fun with affection
His first clerihew was a work of perfection
Yes on a few new names Wayland did call
Unfortunately he still hasn’t got to them all
Some he intentionally won’t mention
It’s Christmas Eve and he seeks no dissention
Categories:
dissention, dedication, funny,
Form:
Clerihew
Did I know this dissention might come to be?
Yes I was aware of its probability.
Did that make me any more prepared for the situation?
No I was not nor am I now.
I guess some things are best walked away from;
And you old love must be one of them.
In the hospital cafeteria an old man asked me to sit;
So I did and he talked about his wife dying.
Did somebody send me a vision of coming tomorrows?
Who knows but I can’t go on like this anymore.
I’ve injected, dissected and intertwined many angles;
But inevitably it seems to always come back to here.
As I slowly sink deeper into theses quagmire of depravation;
I seem to have worked my way down from hero to zero.
And my life is hell reflected in slow motion;
As I live out these many fractions of time.
And was it wrong to love you;
The answer escapes me.
And am I sorry now that I did?
I think sometimes I am.
Categories:
dissention, lost love, me, old,
Form:
Free verse
and thus that thing….
it came again….creeping
……..creeping
………ever creeping
whispering……
……..“what if”
……..”what if”……
………“what if….
…….it’s not good enough”
winged shadows of doubt
………….hovering dissention
….creeping…..
…….across the page
….challenging
……the pen
…..hissing
….”what if…..what if”…
…..nobody reads it….
cold shapeless clouds
…..creeping
…..creeping..
…..deadening the sky
….growling….
……in the belly of fear
…..growling…
…….…...you are not good enough….
….the doubts
…..the creeping
….doubts
…….were right….
……..so sits…….
……….a pencil
……..broken….
by the endless….
…..ever creeping
…..trembling hands
….of doubt….
John G. Lawless
1/20/2017
Categories:
dissention, writing,
Form:
Free verse
You can't imagine what its like to march on a sacred city,
to plunder and pulverize a Peoples' promise to Deity,
demolishing centuries of lavish labor, wasting offspring of ancient heredity,
destroying flesh, scriptures and stone with a savage Roman military synergy,
a discipline determined in it's destruction of dissention, inspired by ancestral victory,
politics was not our purview, methodical punishment was our specialty,
We were War's royalty, we were Legio XV Apollonaris,
monsters of Mars, messengers of Apollo, the juggernaut of Jupiter,
along with 11 other Legions led by General Titus, 60, 000 cuts of glory we stood,
for 3 and a half years we fought through Jewish guerilla ambush
asymetrical urban warfare welting our progress like a pirate pestilence
district after district, hell spell after hell spell we bled with chilled maneuver,
the Zealots were pyromaniacs, burnt sacraficers, their zeal and our bodies zesty wood,
in the Kidron Valley they flooded the streets " knee high " with oiled water
as the Cohorts waded through the lanes leery, a torch was tossed, flames rose in rush
240 men perished like spazing stars trapped in a box, our grief agape with a horrified crush,
as reprimand, Titus made the Legate sit in a tent with his chopped off ring finger
smoldering like hot sand in the hand of a marooned man aware of error in his plan,
the insurgents had men we called Fox Tails, desperate demons who knew how Hell began,
as a skirmish succumbed to our skill and number they would run into apartments,
dragging the fury of our blades into rooms of Hades revenge, these were fire entrapments,
the buildings would blaze like windowed volcanos, screams salting us with panic linger,
It was not uncommon to discover a missing Brother Legionary
castrated, and decapitated with a headedless eagle carved upon his chest,
don't speak to me about morals and mercy for I have seen and dealt the damage of rude death
hate becomes your Father, vengence your Mother, aggravated murder your cause
when everything you revere and fear merge to make a leviathen of life,
the " Chosen People " of God became the chosen target of annihilation,
Mount Moriah, mansion of Yahweh the Pariah would become capital of Divine crucifixion,
J.A.B.
This poem has been entered into the Roman Legion Contest
to honor Ancient Rome and the Poet who sponsored this historical subject.
Categories:
dissention, war,
Form:
Epic
water weeps wildly
whilst washing away your
jesting foolery.
I saw the sun annihilated
Against backdrops of liturgy
Lethargic activity that earns
It’s title as the Earth’s endearing child
Against backdrops of monogamy,
Pedestrian thinking,
Accelerated usage,
Lapping up mentalities from bowls of pulled poultry,
Doing nothing for the Universe, Yet stealing all unities,
Dissention and green lights and babies birthed and apostrophes in time,
Influencing the way we work on thinking of ourselves as HUMANS, As people, not things.
Growths, from children to adults, the contortion of time, the peeling of fate, the sweet sugar coating like a scab on your life,
Bleeding out of your heart and seeing out of your eyes and feeling through your brain and feeling through your synapses.
Here are the producers of the broad way show of assimilation
Here are the problems, Here are the irregularities with the hole in the boat, But don’t worry everything is now under…
Black as a burn on white , yellow as a can of
Cream, not yellow at all.
Not nothing but irregularities we perceive as
Potential ingredients in life.
But in greed, is what we are, in need
Not so much, Thinking SO outside
Of the box, that the box has grown
Legs and walked away and has grown
A full beard and a full head of ideals.
And we are trapped outside of this fully
Matured matron of mystic answers.
And we are pleading to God to be let
back in...
But you know something, GOD IS IN THAT BOX TOO.
And you know something else, inside all of us
Is a little box opening when
It's ready to breed a plague of
Insatiable urges.
A quest for self.
A journey through self.
Black and blue benches where a man sits,
Breathing, he breathed.
Waiting for his anti-matter mother to annihilate him,
But less than he believes because anti-matter
Kills not what it touches, But what it needs to
Kill itself.
A piano, might be boxy and Brute-Like
But might mean more than piano
To you.
It might mean the 'end is nigh'
For music is the sound we hear to
feel forsworn,
to feel filthy inside of ourselves.
GOOD, GOOD
But remember, the Doctor is here
And he is watching from inside
The box, and he's sitting over a cup of tea,
With GOD,
In that BOX
Categories:
dissention, sympathy, universe,
Form:
Free verse
Aged and spent,
this veil is rent;
through worlds unseen,
the earth grows green.
As etheric touch,
is felt so much;
one learns to discern
the twists and turns.
For those who see
between the trees
and hear with ears
beyond mortal years.
As boundaries stop
the earthly clock;
no turning tides
on moonlit nights.
Revealed, the future,
yet to be nurtured
and a past explained,
of lives maintained.
The seer well knows
the spiritual flows;
the reader knows the signs
of grand design.
Pay close attention,
avoid dissention;
your intuition,
brings fruition,
It’s simply gifts,
that can uplift;
the soul, then alights
and soars to new heights.
In-between the realms;
spirits at the helm;
mysteries untold,
will soon unfold.
Categories:
dissention, philosophy, poems, poetry, spiritual,
Form:
Rhyme
In the house a monster grows.
Dissention seethes unchecked,
this house divided stands alone.
The strongest rule, the rest beaten, submit,
hopelessly pay homage, for now.
The young, attention is speculative
in hope of increasing dominance.
Strength through numbers, majority rule.
Know those who now rule will again be replaced,
they sulk, awaiting their turn.
Until then, they will pretend and play their game.
A country suffers, new fighting begins,
parlay and banter are not our friends,
The people the victim once again.
Strong medicine needed to bring this monster its end.
This two party system is destroying from within.
Categories:
dissention, education, life, passion, people,
Form:
Free verse
Malayan Tigers are listed as, critically endangered
and they used to be known, as Indochinese Tigers
They live is in the Malay Peninsula, of Thailand
in their habitat of forests, grasslands and wetlands
They have threats of poaching, for the illegal black markets
as China will not put ban, on the use of tiger parts
and deforestation for development, for the human ferrets
to construct roads, logging and agriculture, just breaks many hearts
Habitat destruction, has forced tigers into human territory
and there have been many Tiger killings, with human dissention
and tigers kill humans and livestock, because they are predatory
as their lives are desperate, to not end up with extinction
Categories:
dissention, animal, beautiful, earth, education,
Form:
Rhyme
Let us, my darling,
In
This world of continuous strife
Where
One force is in constant conflict with the other, since
The beginning of time,
A serene place for us to find-within the eye of
Discord’s cyclone
That
We could the dominion of our love to establish
So as
Oblivious to dissention forever to be!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
10 November 2015
Categories:
dissention, happiness, love, peace,
Form:
Free verse
his dissention reigns
this path of love difficult
mother remembers
Categories:
dissention, love,
Form:
Senryu
Symphony of the Devil
(and yes I do play with fire
on a number of levels... hehehe)
Drums of despair
Beating my will...
My Surrendered soul
Bleeding unrepaired
Horns of dissention
Devouring their fill…
My Surrendered soul
Painful comprehension
Strings of consternation
Branding their way
My Surrendered soul
Eroded determination
Cymbals of disgrace
Drowning my day
My Surrendered soul
Gone without a trace
Percussions of regret
Following the trail
My Surrendered soul
Tangled in a net
Bands of madness
Describing my tale
My Surrendered soul
Entangling distress
Segues of entreat
Swallowing my pain
Surrendered my soul
Painless retreat.
Rlm ‘10
Categories:
dissention, allegory, angst, confusion, introspection,
Form:
THE LAST WORD
as barbs fly back and forth and tempers rise
do you often disagree and keep feeding fire
that keeps dissention flowing in downward
spiral as things are said that are not meant
fatal stings of verbal attacks cause damages
breaking relationships not fixed or refurbished
beyond repair as we dwell in conceited pride
gratification and delight in a victorious prize
as arrows are shot back and forth in rancorous
bitter ruthless verbal combat of private crusade
try turn the next painful targeted aim to apology
and value relationships through a humble defeat
© Kim van Breda—May 2014
Categories:
dissention, anger, forgiveness, wisdom,
Form:
Prose Poetry
The narrowing of choice, opaque or black?
Unconfident die castes vote ballot blank,
How has our circus bread become this bland?
What a diverse homogeneous blend,
All stitched to sleeves but less with blood to bleed,
Philosophy’s deep silenced sonar bleep,
Who knew the watch dogs had been put to sleep,
Medici summoned now with suits so sleek,
For their next trick Baal’s prophets call down sleet,
Then cloak us in their mortuary sheet,
Cold commissar eyes never lose death’s sheen,
A czar’s measure is taken in fleeced sheep,
How many million buys innocents’ cheep?
“mere statistics”, our comrade says, “what cheek!”,
Their power balances upon a check,
Rewritten history toward useful spring chick,
For fellow travelers and bovine chuck,
Reach into chest for the last missing chunk,
Doublethink starts with a skull cracking thunk,
Are indulged proxies all we have to thank?
By any other name the modern thane,
Sign here and soon all you see shall be thine,
The thirst for gods is legion, but none trine,
All dissention is dismissed in a trice,
Indentured mankind’s earmarked wholesale price,
Vaccine for thoughtcrime just the smallest prick,
The focus groupthink directs prompter’s prink,
Omerta code tells us what will reach print,
The emperor’s new crypt may need more paint,
Astute to take the questions not the pains,
Hedge bets on war and peace for greater gains,
The deadly chasm yawns less than it grins,
When all is dust, then will they cease to grind,
Triumvirate writes finale most grand,
The so called rulers occupy by grant,
Go test the spirits joined in graceless graft
Categories:
dissention, november, political, riddle, satire,
Form:
Free verse
This is not a cool character, but a distorted frame of mind
It always bring dissention, and it always guilty of the crime
It often breeds hate, because of it greedy state
It destroys friendship because it is the same as jealousy
Do not make any mistake to cover this foe
Hinder it and give it no space to participate
It can be very subtle or it can be ostentatious
So always be prepared to deny it when it comes to your door
This frame of mind is undesirable because of the malice
its relates
The deceitfulness, the spitefulness and the rivalry is no game
It is the epitome of a blinking shame
So when ever this character knocks on your door
Muscle it and hurl it into space
so that it will not penetrate your brain
and cause you to become insane
Categories:
dissention, jealousy,
Form:
Verse