Best Disservice Poems
PUT TO THE TEST
Planet earth has been put to the test,
Everyone we hope is doing their best,
Unavoidable to sometimes feel depressed,
No family member for tea or a friend or guest.
My hands I am sure have become bleached,
Police and army around, law not to be breached,
Spanish flu took 3 years for safety to be reached
Sadly, folk from what I hear, will become unhinged!
Three weeks at home with your near and dear,
But family not living with us cannot come near,
For this Covid 19 virus is one that we all fear,
Eat well, be strong, talk on phone, and STEER CLEAR!
Grocery stores and pharmacies open, at your service,
Go, Wear your mask and gloves, don’t be nervous,
Keep your distance or you will do yourself a disservice,
All this virus needs to collide with you, is a tiny crevice!
But we must have faith and believe that we will make it,
Don't we all have in our homes a basic medical kit,
We should pray with all of our strength and being, don’t quit
Stay indoors mostly, so you don’t get the virus or transmit,
God bless each and every human on Planet Earth
From Moscow right around the world to Perth,
Think of the number infected along its length and girth,
Won’t always be somber, someday maybe, will experience mirth!
Let us now think of the thousands that have died,
And honor them and their families with a fearsome pride,
By adding the growing number to our prayers every night,
And by being humble, human, always doing what is right!
Limericks written in Limerku form where words are counted, not syllables.
To some contest hosts, it seems to be very inconsequential
Perhaps they see poetry by a living brain as nonessential
What a disservice to the human hand
When AI poetry should receive a reprimand
Users have no shame in winning. They're positively nonpenitential
So easily now they've learned how to cheat by utilizing
the way AI allows, by using the means of humanizing
No hesitation over which buttons to click
and what they post is a goldbrick
Lines of blah blah blah, unappetizing that needs closer analyzing
The sponsors I continue to write for have dwindled low
Never would I post something that was empty of emo
Poetry should come from heart and soul
And if anyone cares... truth be told
Those who take unearned wins, I label them a bozo
As imperfect humans, we judge perceived on what our eyes see
It's a mistake many of us make, and not based on a heart's purity.
A trait that shows we are prejudiced and biased against others
of different races and religious beliefs, of our sisters and brothers.
We were all created in the image and likeness of our Father, God.
To realize a person's value, we must look deeper than their facade,
but we label people by appearance without personal interaction.
Iniquitous of our subconscious to let outward looks be an attraction.
Were that all eyes were blind to a beautiful face or a muscular form
we would treat each other with a demeanor more pleasant and warm.
Too often we don't bother trying to learn what's in a person's heart
before our minds tell us, "I'm going to tear this unworthy one apart."
Shouldn't we look past a person's age, or unappealing physical features?
To hold that against them makes us small-minded, bigoted creatures.
We're guilty of doing a disservice to good people if we fail to perceive
what is undetectable to our eyes. First impressions often tend to deceive.
January 8, 2023
The Way We Look Contest
Sponsor: Unseeking Seeker
Eulogy For An Unsung Hero ©
The late John Sidney McCain III,
now flies with Arrow Smith,
Babbitt, and Jefferson Airplane
five days shy of his
eighty second birthday,
taken down (to his demise)
courtesy, sans metastatic cancer of brain
defeated by an aggressive
deadly linkedin chain,
yet still earns kudos
no matter 1967 USS Forrestal fire
(during the Vietnam War)
his life source did
nearly completely drain
though purposeless prevails,
asper absolute zero gainsay,
no rhyme nor reason
can even feebly explain,
when approximately
a quarter million young men
(oh...yes, perhaps
some women too) perished
at sea, on land, or floatplain
sacrificed their lives for nought,
zip, nada nothing to GAIN
(my bald, billed,
and bold assertion,
a mere minor tirade
subpar class 1 hurricane
non-veteran civilian personnel),
nonetheless afflictions by said
United States veteran and,
subsequent Senator from Arizona,
what posthumous praise me expresses
merely mildly silly putty,
piddly, paltry and inane
as anti septic (of danger)
such as books
for children star
ring Dick and Jane
does disservice, injustice offends,
(perhaps descriptive word choices
might smack of hyperbole,
my humble apology if in apropos),
thus a more app pealing appellation,
could be Citizen Kane,
whose corporeal being got lain
to rest on a grassy hill
adjacent to the main
starting point of his storied existence,
the burial plot (right next to
lifelong friend Chuck Larson)
amidst a plain
extolling grandeur and solemnity,
where grim reaper didst slain
of Arlington National
Cemetery in Virginia terrain
concluding mine poetic epistle,
that didst wax and wane.
Body Language
Is often Inconclusive
Written: by Tom Wright
1/29/2013
Studies have shown that with folded arms,
That we’re either uncomfortable or nervous;
Or we’re in possession of negative thoughts,
And we’re doing the speaker a disservice.
I sit in church, with arms, sometimes folded,
With no intent of other’s thoughts to divert.
But a Pastor’s sermon left me feeling censured,
With folded arms my shoulders just don’t hurt.
I’ve no I-phone so I won’t be caught texting,
Only note taking removes hands from sight.
Before mistakenly thinking the worst of me,
Walk my mile once, and understand my plight.
So do your body language interpretation,
But remember your thoughts concerning me;
Will never have any relevancy in defining,
Today’s man or the man I’ll ultimately be.
There's A Pedophile In The House...
(ah...ah...ah...ham eye white...???)
OMG,... and he looks...
SAY WHAT??? just like me???,...
absolutely NO WAY!!!,
would this sensitive,
respectful, "FAKE" veejay
quiet-natured, mindful,
loving, kind, underplay
justice invoking, hew today
mainly, gentle, friendly, "I say"
enlightened, democratic chap redisplay
any besotted abominable,
blamable, culpable, quay
esse chin hubble
despicable, execrable prey
dot door formidable,
inhospitable...overplay
ying faux indulgent,
NOR be mistaken
to assay, betray, convey,
display, expressway more fay
writ his'm to
gainsay hearsay, inveigh
jaw dropping "FAKE"
yuge weak accusations
(by a long shot), sans
basket of conspiring deplorables
attempting to assassinate
bigly believe me tubby "stupid"
winning loser to berate,
who doth unequivocally create
mine substantial vocabulary rumor,
versus 4th grade reading level
trumpeting librettist - thee great
test Don Quixote
(as falsely sung with hate
full sotto voce), and ramped up
as ill suited mate
a minus [sic] zero moron,
which doth hapt
tubby incredibly tremendous
disservice to bona fide classy idiots
with a lot of money
(like the millions and billions
of my golfing confrères)
given bent iron golf clubs
used by crooked Hillary,
when former Secretary of State
ideal for Putin on the Ritz
by far less exciting, with
Bill Clinton's flirtatious flits
trained pudenda purse
sin null property
of intern (NO FALLACY)
topped as southern delicacy dish
consume mated with buttered grits
pricked prurient peccadilloes licks
suddenly recalling seminal kicks
starting, how with Little Rock kits
he received assistance,
sans starts and fits,
eventually then nubile
ingenue Monica Lewinsky
called time out, cuz at her wits
end once assisting helping
express his "naughty bits,"
when done completing
cum mincecd secrete mission
blue dress draped
expensively furred
(i.e. tricked out) in her
"FAKE" minx hiding
sable animal spirits,
when animal rights
activists vehemently protested
out-coming result
slapping former president
with a PETA file.
it would have been an injury to them both
to attempt a description,
to bring what it was that compelled the girl to silence
(if she had not chose silence beforehand---one outside can never be sure)
to formulate an image, to dispel some kind of physical qualities verbally
which to the person outside
might have made some impression upon them,
because that unique allurement of which the girl did focus
could never truly be brought into any kind of distinction for the rest of us,
in fact to try would only taint it & do a disservice to the whole of the
event---
rather, even a more considerate onlooker, who stopped when crossing into the other room, in order to ask the girl about her moment in awe,
would only force a quick death to what was happening,
like waking up from a dream involving the two,
neither can make the other understand
anything but the attempt at understanding,
for what is to be understood
exists solely on its own---right out there in the focus,
or it lies dead in our savage
description---
and when the questioner came back after a few minutes,
unsatisfied with the absence of any answer
(as so many of us impatient imbeciles are),
after turning, the girl spoke a few phrases
which to the questioner seemed only nonsense at best,
as if she’d been spoken to in a language that she didn’t know---
what had been said was simply a description also,
one that felt only like another installment,
a domino in the falling, predictable effect,
wherein one person tries to get at the heart of the matter,
while the other tries to help them &
a million conversations begin, part ways &
begin again,
constantly picking up the baton & then dropping it,
be it like the boredom of rereading a “choose your own adventure” book,
or a fresh new mistake
found when the collision of the selves within
mess up the overall stability of the
whole.
S/He walks in bias
As s/he thinks not of himself.
S/He has many a vice
By which s/he does more to others than to himself
As s/he feels his/her disservice to others
Makes him/her nearer to Himself/Herself.
The Modern (Wo)Man.
Full of knowledge
Sans wisdom
Lacking the tryst of self image
For s/he nourishes the advanced sciencedom
Which brought Moscow, Mumbai and Madrid nearer
But a cleavage, so dearer of minds.
So comes the external prejudice
Which reins the seminal minds
With a little or no vision.
Today has all to say
Not anything for tomorrow
The Modern (Wo)Man,
The most civilized and
The most savaged to protect
Her/Him and the burden which
S/He has promised to be obliged,
Is the confluence of
The venomous Chemistry of the mind
And
The meanest mundane of Biology
Short of Historicity and Epistemology of Time.
Romans 13:1 - “The authorities that exist have been established by God”…
Though that seems more of a facade, long shot and a fraud from a world long gone
Since sin no longer seems fiction in this depiction of friction with biased predictions
An election... with no intention of protection for the derelict despite respective messages
Seems like these cycles are a hit-miss of plot twists and taut fists that obscure who God is
But we make no connection that contention from our own predilection sows dissension
And without intervention comes resentment, we need spiritual direction
But instead of resting in God’s embrace we attack others with a verbal mace
while we brace our own heart for impact, still intact, rate of pace faster than light in space
We’re caught up in the race but instead should race to erase the rays of hate from our own race.
Why do we debate the debates as we relegate and castigate with hate, then demand a rebate
or hammer their manner like it’s grammar, then try to conjugate what they obfuscate
Our minds are lost in space while propaganda confiscates our thoughts of late
Then traps them in relapse, perhaps inaction would produce the largest fraction of satisfaction
But our thoughts are funneled and fueled into to a brew of psychological stew
so heated and cruel it boils over derision and division, it’s no wonder we have tunneled vision.
Then when the door unhinges, pops open, it’s rigged with bigoted dissonance, explosives
that spring from an ocean filled with commotion from springs of offense overflowing
because we dared to confused fact with opinion and reasoning with motive
America caught between a persona gargantuan and aroma of pantsuits and emails scandalous
The purposes of service is not to deter with private servers or privates and perverts with backers
in reserve or greenbacks in reserves, we reserve the right to deserve more than this disservice
So when we venture into this realm of guesswork where conjecture is turned into adventure
When the cyclical turns visibly unbiblical with violently physical intervals fueled by the visceral
Instead of surrendering our heart’s rhapsody of magnitude into apathy and lassitude
...let us pray for strength to maintain a God sustained attitude of positive aptitude
I ain't snitchin', I ain't talkin'
Got nothin' on me, so I'll soon be walkin'
I ain't gone get loose with my lips, I'm equipped, ain't gonna trip
No torture, nothing to overkill my will
After all, it is written: "Peace be still"
If I ain't seen nothin', I know the drill
Turn my ass loose, and I'm over that hill
Yo', man, I'll talk, you just name yo' price
I'll spill the beans, put my cronies on ice
I ain't afraid of repercussions, let's make this discussion
I'm cool, I ain't rushin'
No crony seem worthy of loyalty, they ain't royalty
I'll Judas Iscarot them, to put it real plain
I'll Pontius Pilate them, wash my hands, it's all the same
I'll do the dirt, and bring down their name
When speaking too loose, gone use lip disservice
Who's gonna benefit, who's placid, who's nervous
When withholding info that's used to save lives
You really protecting--or is someone deprived?
RUNNING INTERFERENCE
by: Acquah Vicki on Saturday, June 9, 2012 at 12:07am ·
RUNNING INTERFERENCE
I have a brand-new glow. I am feeling free of these gremlins.
Hoping to stay that way, it's called growth!
Please feel free to feast off my soul food, and enjoy with me this journey.
I will accept no invitation to your karmic party; and I cannot help you with the inevitable,
No longer running interference. Neither will I be a catcher’s mitt - while you have the bat and won't swing.
Interceding for your negative actions no more.
You have generated a storm of deplorable deeds, out of concern I’ve nurtured your corrupted seeds.
I have mended the wings of dirty birds to fly, there I wrongly stood in the way of your fate.
Getting hit with your contempt as I warded off the hate.
The universe held for you a lesson. To correct your mistakes.
You will blame and throw tantrums and say no one loves you, and become irate.
You will make everyone feel guilty, because no one feels to dance to that off-key tune.
Though you move selfishly and have no regards for the wellbeing of others, I still love you.
Only this time I have learned not to feed into your selfish needs; so, the only
karma and lesson I am dealing with now is mine.
To you I plead! When your storm is over and you've made your amends; come to me,
Come to me, if you need an encouraging word, a bit of love, or a friend.
I have learned my lesson never to interfere with someone else’s lesson;
No matter how much you love them;
No matter how you yearn to save them, your service becomes a
disservice: No one wins, and no lesson will they have learned.
So, I discern...
Speak softly to the stars. Upon the universe, whisper a wish.
My understanding is now clear, never interfere, with people and their karma;
No matter how you love them,
Be it relative or friend; in the end, you'll only hurt yourself and them!
The result will be ...
You'll only have produce another
" spineless jelly fish “!
III Rant
I’m not ranting and raving
not me that’s badly behaving
so dishonest, media people
can’t tell a Trump Tower from a steeple
you just can’t get it right
not raving and ranting
just telling you straight
just telling you all right
yes, you, the press, I’m talking about
very very broken system
press is out of control
tremendous disservice,
tremendous disservice
we have to talk about it
we have to talk about it
to the American people
attacking my administration
not treating me
wonderful person
the American people
wonderful people
with proper respect
got ‘em all here at the White House
so the American people
can see me the people telling them off
telling what incredible progress
i’ve already made in just one week
so if you hear anyone squeak
saying anything else its proof
They’re not telling the simple truth
Hello Santa, Nice to meet you this year
I've been very good, come rain or shine
I know what your thinking, you have your fears
But I don't want anything big this time
I just want some books (ten would do)
Maybe some Tolkien, or Verne perhaps?
Some Sanderson would be good to
And a book on how to take a nap
(Insomnia Is very rough)
I also want a lock pick set
One that's strong, and very tough
And this time around I do not want a pet
Now, I know what your saying, You haven't been good
Coal's in your future, you can knock on wood
Well, I know I mocked that presenter
But he was as bad as Lincoln was good
And I know I became my family's dissenter
But truth be told they needed one
They always were a sheepish bunch
They always had the same kind of fun
Then I went and ruined their lunch
And that time where I drunk my sister's drink
She had no label on it!
She knows it was that or the sink
It's her that needs to take a sit
Now, I know your naughty list has my name reserved
three years running, I've been bored
But this year Santa, Let me tell you
To invest in me, though undeserved
You see I wrote a letter or two
To some high-ranking fellows at the Station
This Fellow named Tom and One named Tim
Is letting me do a presentation
If I a piece of coal (Or five, or ten)
I'll say You did me a great disservice
I'll talk about you all day
And you'll be right to be nervous
I'm sure you know what I will say
So dear Santa, I expect to get my presents
Or else I'll do some newsy segments
Don't destroy the jug
That gives you water before
unused, give a hug.
Is this life really worth it? I’m nervous
Every morning as I peel back my curtains, I look for my purpose,
I have everything I’ve ever wanted, but do I deserve it?
And if I end it all right now will I be doing myself a disservice?
Still looking for that reason to care, that fire, that magic,
If you think I’m overly pessimistic and life is pristine,
Allow me to set the scene,
My spirit is lower than it’s ever been,
So is my morale and self-esteem,
Right hand is writing this, I’m wondering what the other hand will do,
Everything around me is falling apart,
Those closest to me have a panoramic view,
I’ve always wanted to be the center of attention,
That’s vanity though,
Cut myself off from everyone, living like a recluse understandably so,
All of my problems I’m exposing,
I let some parts of my life see through the light,
Leaving the rest frozen,
If it isn’t the anxiety or depression,
It’s the self-loathing