Best Diverse Poems
Oh say can I see
By the big florescent lights
Once so proudly now has fell
Fell into reality?
Fell into right?
Fell into a time where there should have never been a fight!!
With ’In God We Trust ' printed on every dollar.
But God got kicked out so Columbine became the shocker.
But was it also ' In God We Trust ' when we failed to see nothing but color?
With the hoses put down,
and Dr King no longer around,
is ‘The Dream’ still being reached?
Is it a sign that the first homes we see
are no longer a possibility?
When the Towers came down,
we were 'United we Stand'
But when gas prices rose it was,
“You're on your own, man!”
‘A penny saved is a penny earned,’
is from the man that first helped us try to learn.
But when we stopped asking what our country can do for us,
is that the time when the table turned?
Now that Rosa will no longer be on the bus,
I wonder who will now take that seat for all of us.
With Miss America in the cast,
when will we ever see Miss Disability last?
What happened to the times of ‘I am not a crook’,
it took a back seat to the Man who wrote the Book.
And the rockets red glare,
with bombs still bursting in the air,
is it wrong to fight for the night
when our children’s children will still be there.
Form:
We are the most intelligent specie on this fraction of a dot within our universe,
yet our behaviour continues to remain so dis functionally diverse.
We’re all at rivalry with an undistinguished universe
let the truth be known;
politics are garrulous about freedom and what they’re going to do
hell of hands their helpless.
Before the world goes to fire,
I hope all is done,
No one is here to help us possessive and acquisitiveness.
New Orleans living life underwater;
only thing that can seem to save them is sensitivity.
We live life on the passenger side:
We’re fearsome to stand,
but willing to only follow.
We all have problems
no one is overcoming.
Faith is no longer here,
luck has overturned the man above.
Black people must keep voting
too many people on us joking.
God has many blessings to bless
but we’re giving up too fast.
We all riding on love and money
it can’t buy happiness.
This world is helpless,
it’s too late for us to go back,
sometimes, too late to move forward.
We all think the future has
nothing more we can hold.
Helpless of taking life for granted;
everything in life isn’t perfect.
The war is a battle fought
but we all looking like cowards,
thinking we fighting for a reason
now is our biggest tragedy.
Sometimes a tragedy let us know its over;
we can not win.
Over shoulders we must stay strong,
he won’t put more than we can not bear.
The economy has reached it’s next worst peek.
Here is the morning sun
all we have is racing hearts
and prayers.
Don’t let no one steal your pride
it’s yours inside.
Born in the U.S.; where people think we’re blind,
where we live secrets and lies,
as people we’re not listening,
anything that is said, we believe.
Many lives lost,
many waves in the ocean lost,
we’re left in a world of nothing.
Faintest of light a silver sliver
thinnest of thread silken quiver
slightest of hope,to be,delivered
strongest of faith golden envisioned.....
Polluted waters clouded vision
deluded cause create division
obtrusive force denies cohesion
abusive nature cries are legion
Assimilation is their call
diversification is the all......
We are truly blessed with splendid scenery in this great nation,
Overwhelming our senses with awe and inspiration!
Visitors to such places may view them with a differing perception,
And the spectacular Grand Canyon is certainly no exception!
A preacher, for example, might fall upon his knees in exaltation,
Praising and glorifying The Lord for His magnificent Creation!
He'll be inspired to concoct a sermon for his languid congregation,
That'll bring them leaping from their pews in rousing exultation!
The artist no doubt will view it with a practiced eye and gush,
About the masterpiece he'll create with his paint and brush.
As he critically eyeballs the colorful vista so breathtaking,
He'll exclaim, "'Tis a marvelous canvas in the making!"
The contemplative poet will ponder the scene and then,
Create volumes of flowing verse from his prolific pen!
The musician becomes enthralled standing on that high plateau.
He hears a symphony as the waters flow in the watercourse below!
An old cowpoke marveled at the scene and scratched his brow,
Saying to no one in particular, "One helluva place to lose a cow!"
From the rocky coast of Maine to the San Diego Bay,
Ain't no two people gonna see things in exactly the same way!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Across the realms of existence now known
dwell some dimensions of which we're not part.
Though sharing our space, diverse life is shown-
some worlds within worlds, alone from the start-
know not of us- yet are able and smart.
Earth's anthills survive in worlds quite diverse;
no knowledge that giants exist in their midst.
In their unique space, they govern and nurse.
Too, bees in their hives cannot be dismissed;
they thrive in their world, and ours is not missed.
And our vast earthly oceans overwhelm
with life that inhabits dark, liquid space-
without knowing that above there's a realm,
most never will see, that's named human race-
we masters of earth- that rule and embrace.
Across the realms of existence NOT known
dwell huge dimensions of which we're not part.
Though sharing our space- diverse realms are shown;
some worlds among worlds- ahead from the start?
We know not of them- more able and smart?
Reflecting on the term, 'diverse'
abundant in our universe
Endless species, sizes, shapes and forms
Truly, 'diversity' has no 'norm'
A vision clear, Americans lack
who color 'diversity' ~ only black
...I was working construction jobs,
there was a big job for the trains,
to replace an old viaduct
that shook in the wind and the rain.
The government gave money and
put strings on it, that’s what they do,
wanted to ensure diversity
in the engineers and the crew.
They especially wanted women,
to boost their numbers up in STEM,
problem was when we went looking
we had much trouble finding them.
The best ones were hired already,
and not many women remained,
but they scraped together a team,
only one had worked on a train.
for two years there was much planning.
I heard rumblings from above,
consultants said things were amiss,
the design was not strong enough.
Even rumors design reviews
were ignored to not seem sexist,
but most figured it sour grapes,
there’s no way the state would do this.
We built the bridge that they designed,
laid tracks so the trains could fly by,
there was a ceremony when
it opened with a great train ride.
And for four months things seemed allright,
trains went by without a mistake,
until a strut snapped in high wind,
causing a central truss to break
just as a commuter train came,
it fell to the valley below,
investigators went out there,
the reason they wanted to know.
They found bolts that were much too short,
and metal that was much too thin,
foundations not set deep enough
to resist much in gusting wing.
And then began the whole scandal,
when leaks from the state did reveal
reviews rushed through, oversight lax,
they knew there were flaws in the steel.
But politics are politics
when it comes to choosing who works,
sure, ninety-seven people died,
but at least their deaths were diverse.
She sobbed, screamed, screeched, squealed…
He howled, hollered, hissed, hooted…
The hearing seemed tug-of-war-filled.
The judge smiled and said: "Equaled!
So, your wish to reunite is confirmed!'
They frantically hugged, kissed. In celluloid.
04 June 2021
Bite Size Poem no.4 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Line Gauthier
Brexit Sonnet No.16
‘Diverse Woven Strands’
Our embroidered story, with boundaries crissed and crossed,
With boats and men ‘o horse in serried rows.
With comets, relics, hawks and battles lost
And headless, limbless men this fabric shows.
Some say it t’was the Kentish Saxon hand
Whose needle rudely stabbed the linen cloth.
Others swear title stems from William’s land;
But time flows by and quenches warlike wroth.
So histories fused, and diverse woven strands
Are spun together, strong and future proof.
A Nation built on history’s shifting sands,
Woven under Europe’s very roof.
Treat it well this cloth of ours to share,
Break not the warp or weft on Brexit’s snare.
©Keith Murphy
Darkness will approach but
The Conquering King will cast it aside!
God is the deliverer and the protector of His people
The Conquering King is a warrior
There is an admirable combination
Of diverse beauty in Jesus Christ
Jesus is called a Lion
It is because He is the Greatest of all
With majesty and kingly authority
As the lion rules the forest, so Jesus rules over all!
Jesus is bold and powerful
He is the Conquering King!
His supremacy is unsurpassed
The Lion of Judah
Saves us from the tyranny of our sins and
Heals OUR diseases for His Glory—
He TAKES CARE of HIS CITIZENS
The Lion of Judah fulfils his Covenant Promise
By opening doors that could never ne open
The citizen of God’s Government executes His Divine Purpose!
Mark Frank
Copyright 2024
Still felt like We are all diverse but the Same in the Lord
As Tobymac and Diverse City sung I sung and felt…
The Elements Lights Shine Bright Backseat Driver©
Felt like to me like a heavenly choir church on earth
A city on our knees, (we as a planet all should be)
Everything 21 Years See the Light Made to Love©
Lose My Soul Speak Life Hello Future Til the Day I Die©
Overflow Edge of My Seat Me Without You©
City on Our Knees still felt like We are all diverse but the Same in the Lord
Terrian Bass had us all In the Arms (in the arms of Jesus) © only female Diverse City band mate and solo artist
Starts With Me Move (Keep Walkin') ©
DJ Maj Break Eye on It Love Broke Thru©
I just need U. Feel It© was the only one in my row I sung…
Still felt like We are all diverse but the Same in the Lord
Til the Day I Die This Is Not a Test Backseat Driver©
Beyond Me Made to Love Speak Life©
Funky Jesus Music Eye on It Steal My Show©
Lose My Soul Move (Keep Walkin') ©
Felt like to me like a heavenly choir church on earth
A city on our knees, (we as a planet all should be)
Still felt like We are all diverse but the Same in the Lord
Love Feels Like Undeniable Feel It Lights Shine Bright©
City on Our Knees Me Without You© along
After getting snowed on inside the auditorium yes, snow
snowing now on the concert goers?
After the testimonies of Tobymac, bout the death of his son
I just need U. Feel It© was the only one in my row I sung…
Felt like to me like a heavenly choir church on earth
A city on our knees, (we as a planet all should be)
Still felt like We are all diverse but the Same in the Lord
I had a bless time at this show, Tobymac Deep Hits Tour…
Felt like to me like a heavenly choir church on earth
A city on our knees, (we as a planet all should be)
Still felt like We are all diverse but the Same in the Lord
Hallelujah
part 3
3/6/20
Written by James E Lee Sr.
a true story
A Shepherd's Day by Suzanne Alexander (SA)
Wee, from East then West!
Seen one side then Next.
Feel a beautiful day, start is laid
Sjoe, from sting of Ray.This said,
Baa, from Ewe - distinct face!
Moor from one side at annex she graze,
Aye mi smeel yummy scone buttered.
Lighe nam lips whilst I muttered.
Shoo, splish-splash rain came unforseen
raining stairs of rods clearly seen
soil exposed with heathered bole
the red pigment irks the soul.
Ewe, come, sinn cùm sàbhailte!
to the huge bole hole, wee time, to shed.
Close jist ower the way so near,
baa, from rascal Mule , mi clu from ear.
C' mon ye little mule so blue
Safe its here by bole used as hue.
The noo! Mule. He came then settled.
Jack Snipe seen in marsh nestled.
Far in the distance a thunderclap
Meat today with pap.
With money earned just a little.
and hands brittle.
As the rain drops snipes my face,
Content I am to run , this race
Yet a sadness for unfair wage
But joyful not being in a cage.
Day, from graft then came night
Hame my manor is in sight.
Safe the ewe and mule I put,
aye, that'll dae. Day in tear and joy shut.
Diverse Forms of Poetry
Poems, oh poems, so diverse and grand,
A world of words we can't understand,
Each type unique, with its own style,
Capturing moments, making us smile.
Free verse, the rebel of the pack,
Breaking rules, never looking back,
With no set meter or rhyme in sight,
Its freedom of expression is its might.
Haikus, small but oh so sweet,
Three lines of beauty, so neat,
With just seventeen syllables to play,
They capture life in a beautiful way.
Sonnet, the classic form of old,
With fourteen lines, each story told,
Iambic pentameter, the rhythm of love,
Shakespeare's tool, sent from above.
Ballad, the story that sings,
The tale of old with harp strings,
Rhyming couplets, a tale to be told,
A journey of heroes, brave and bold.
Elegy, a mournful song,
A heartache we can't prolong,
A tribute to those we've lost,
Their memory kept at any cost.
Limericks, the silly ones we adore,
Five lines, with laughs galore,
A funny tale of a person or place,
A light-hearted poem, that leaves a trace.
Odes, the praise we do sing,
To the joys life can bring,
A celebration of the beautiful and bright,
A poem that lifts us up to new heights.
So many poems, so many ways,
To express ourselves and share our days,
With words that flow and images clear,
A poem can take us far and near.
By Otieno Elvis Gikoi
THE ELO’S POETRY
Words like Sanskrit curses,
Verses to burn the paper,
As their eyes burning the midnight oil.
Darkness sculpted into poetry.
Of broken dreams and living nightmares.
Poems for the rebels and skeptics.
Poems that say everything about a life that means nothing.
Verses that undress reality and seduce fiction.
Power from the inside of an empty soul.
That's why they'll kill my footsteps but live in the horror of my echoes through the hall of fame.
That's why
Am not those poets who make selling headlines of poetry journals.
Am those poets with a dark corner in a bright magazine,
Or with quotes written on walls with scraping paint in bars or asylums.
Am those poets whose poems live in cracks of broken souls and the shatter of broken dreams.
My poems will substitute Bible verses on heretic tombstones.
History will keep me as a secret, But mad men will still whisper my name.
They won't quote me in literature lessons,
But the rogue students will scribble my name onto the bathroom doors.
No monuments for me,
But the graffiti on the streets will live on.
I might never be in libraries ,
But a broken teenager will stumble upon me as they search for a way to escape reality.
I'll be next to the blue pills or whatever colour suicide will come in then.
And then,
I shall live again.
There!
Ofcourse there's an afterlife for me.
Elliepoet
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