Best Divider Poems
Pointing back
From where I sit,
this crowded street of frowning faces and lying eyes
meander past the mom and pop facades with kids in tow…
tethered by their wants
and constant whining
now glaring at me as if,
I am the problem
I wave them off in my best oceanic gesture,
casting salty aspirations to the ground around my feet…
all the while keeping my fitted
thoughts to myself
For opposite this asphalt divider
of pot holes and swept debris
she sits, twisting her chocolate hair around her finger,
staring at the clock, waiting
Wearing her favorite dress,
glistening crimson nail and lip paint
The violent sun finds my shoulders
scattering grey clouds
between the concrete and neon
folded on the structure facing my perch
A single drop of sweat rolls down my cheek,
on this day more will come
Mixed, blended, hidden or defined
by tears held back, losing the battle
I take in the second story window,
shade slightly drawn and I imagine her
Jumping excitedly at the knock,
a quick mirrored touch up and fanciful bounces,
as smiles lead her to
his rugged features and fat wallet
The engine idles, I can smell the fumes
dancing across my nostrils, sickened
Floating the steps, (they) she looks happy, then at me
her head drops, sad or thankful, probably
Engine revs, my eyes fill
as thunderstorms erupt on my face, (they) she disappears
My heart near death, beating slow
it reels on this day,
while others, in their mindless pandering
and nose followed directions, stare and point
I spit, reaching our heart encased initials
carved in the stained and tiring sidewalk
My chest throbs, legs weak and nonexistent,
transparent of hurt and glass filtered wishes
Pointing back at those who would judge, I shout…
Yes, I am the problem!
Joining a tour you meet people
Who may not be like you at all –
Politically, age-wise and maybe
With views that repel or appall.
Religion’s another divider
As well as the places you live
And quickly, you’ll learn who’s not social
Or those who have much they can give.
But mostly, the group comes together,
Conversing and laughing despite
All the differences that are apparent
To all from the very first night.
The young and the old, the Christians and Jews,
The urban and rural-type folk
Connect as they share in their journey,
Enough to enjoy the same joke.
Of course, the director’s a factor,
Uniting his charges until
There’s sufficient concern for each other
That some friendships may form (and they will).
At the end, though, with hugs and “Safe travels!”
The tour group, at last, must disperse,
Their experience richer for meeting
Fellow travelers truly diverse.
The glass was half empty until he smashed it on the room divider
Tequila Sunrise on the wall
Shattered the pieces lay on the ground when he walked on his shards
Barefoot floored surrender
A bitter taste of guilt as he wretched his way to the bathroom sink
Unplugged mosaic of pain
The lipstick kiss lingered on the mirror but her toothbrush was gone
Message from a bottle
Staggered in defeat he stumbled on slurred words of another promise
Twisted spluttered echoes
As he rinsed his tongue with mouthwash more lies mourned his loss
Prolonged rapid suicide
It was the kindest thing she would ever do for the wasted drunkard
Tough unrequited love
17th February 2020
When I was called little brother,
I smiled.
It meant I have an elder sibling.
One from whom I could learn,
To discern,
Between Light and Dark.
What about the Grey?
Only a few would about the grey;
Enquire.
Even fewer,
Perhaps none
Would even begin to aspire,
Is grey the divider?
What is a divider?
A partition,
A separation,
A barrier.
In essence a carrier,
Of both dark and Light;
Having both thane sight!
The grey is never contrite,
It does and will do on sight!!!
Come with your purported might!
Closer…
Closer…
Unseen seen chaos,
These are my instruments,
Your might;;;
Will be eaten as sacrements.
For continual human growth within,
Mistakes rectified by the elder or role model;
Taught the current crop must be,
Lessons are as seeds;;;
Planted into our mother,
Blending with Earth, Water and Sun,
The seed transmutes and soon the seed has had its fun,
A plant is now the end product.
We humans are also ever transforming,
Perhaps not as apparent as natural beauty forming,
But what is natural beauty?
What is beauty?
Random randominity is beauty natural,
Random beauty is natural randominity,
Natural randominity is random beauty,
Beautiful randominity randoms naturally,
In essence;
Culturally cultural.
Not an over-spill,
Providence shines.
Understanding and comprehension,
In succession,
For thee.
The trick however is to pass on that understanding and comprehension.
But how do you do that?
When most of the generation is tuned to the Playstation!
Violent games evocating the continuation
Of our disgusting violent nation.
Perhaps attempt to not scold or tell;
Allow thane actions to speak wonders,
As an undiscovered well.
Keep the resonance of thane bell,
Consistant.
Perhaps another revolutionary,
Your prodige has to be selectant,
Of his student, his confectionary.
Without this passing down of knowledge,
We all might as well eat the most poisonous berry.
I'm a Hispanic because that's what I'm branded...
I'm not a race I'm but a culture...
I'm but a mixture conquered by vultures...
I'm these urban streets that flow within me...
I'm from an island that I rarely see...
I'm born and bred a natural survivor...
I'm not a color for that's a divider...
I'm but a being spirit real strong...
I'm but a mixture African, Indian, White...
I'm but a person blessed with true sight ...
I'm but a warrior prepared for a fight...
I'm but a culture my race is all mixed...
Spaniards on a quest that came over on ships...
I'm but of mixed slaughtered beautiful races...
Embedded with this language from foreign places ...
I Speak a language that came from blood shed...
The Indian and African in me will never be dead...
I'm a loud voice a candle that burns...
I'm but a sponge that absorbs as I learn...
I'm but a culture a bunch of lost tribes...
I am what I am till the day I die...
?
The divider in chiefs, divider in thieves
The first in the world, thieves so bleed
The divider in chief, divider in genes
The first in the world, genes so greed
The divider in chief, divider in terror
The fear of TIME, terror became error
The divider in chief, divider in looters
The first in the world, India has leader
The divider in chief, the divider in sins
Modi a single man, divider in thins
The divider in chiefs, divider in media
Divider of chiefs, Now MODI is phobia
The divider in chief, TIME is error
Blot on media, media formed terror
Media formed terror, the chief is TIME
Come together ever, now thieves in line
Media formed terror, the chief is TIME
Ban media-terror now, TIME did crime
Divider in chief ever, divider in thieves ever
Modi the first leader, so honest found never
TIME is paid media, bad test of faith media
TIME is faith-killer, Chief of the paid media
Modi is the chief India, TIME is media thief
Modi now love of world, TIME is phobia chief
Modi now world leader, TIME is hate -in- chief
Modi now faith India, TIME is crime-in-chief
- Hariom, CFA
Great walls
Sealing dried tears
Locking out yearning hearts
Like Jericho’s walls, they too will—
Crumble
© Joseph S. Spence, Sr., (Epulaeryu Master) 4/6/18
All Rights Reserved, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, USA
Senior Advisor, to Founder of Motivational Strips
Ambassador De Literature
Noble Star of Literature 2018
Living Legend of the 21st Century
Pentasiv B World Friendship Poetry Featured Poet 2019
~~~~~~~
Eleventh Place Winner
Traditional Cinquain Contest
Sponsored by: Kristin Reynolds
May 31, 2008
~~~~~~~
A hiding place, a warm and darkened room,
A lit doorway, bright against the dark,
Cold against the warmth, a frame for odd
Assorted stranger-forms whose faces loom
As quarrels over (what?) convulse and rend them,
Leering laughter giving in to vicious
Sneers, bared fangs, silent snarls
Of wretched, clutching, atavistic mayhem,
A terror once removed. Inside that hole
Distant from the proximal horrid window
Where twisted evil shadow-puppets fight
Peculiar faint amusement seems to roll
Like waves around the cave, detached and born
Of safety via distance, of certainty
That out would never be in, that warmth was safe,
That war above, so far away, forlorn,
Could be watched as from a languid seat
Far recessed in a darkened empty theater,
Nestled snugly, listening to the voice
Which comments on the raging battle heat.
From somewhere up, behind, not left nor right,
But from the center, voice and fight both
Directly sensed, as if they each occurred
In a vacuum, touch and smell, sound and sight
Being interchangeable and void.
The fighters jab and poke, madly gouge,
And neither gains advantage, being justly
Matched, as both are faceless, the man
At left pitted fair against the shrewish
Plot of his opponent, evil woman.
Both in turn appeal for judgment, turning
Away from fighting to glare and wave and hiss
Silently for a verdict on the ghastly driven
Feud which now has stopped, as it began,
Abruptly, and receiving none, for in
The silence no answer can be given
(Besides which, being taken by surprise
And overcome by sudden fear, aware
Of change in circumstance) the watcher is mute,
The murderous woman lunges at his very eyes
In deadly assault, bent on maiming, killing,
Groping fiercely at his open throat
For no apparent reason; and the comfort
Of the soothing voice utterly halts.
Words without sound fly like spears between them
Accusatory fingers gesture madly
And spittle from their half-crazed livid mouths
Wings through air in visual acid anthem
To this grisly deadly tandem fight
That seems the worse being set in relief
By the rectangular hole that serves as both
Window and door, divider of dark and light,
No protection, as threshold battle threatens
Him within, as blind hatred rages
In deft slashes of lengthy fingernails
While foe from foe extracts macabre debt.
My Name is O.M.P.H.I.LE; I own it as a badge, it is my definition and who I am.
O pen-minded
I open my mind up not to judge, to live and let live. As we all on a different journey, and the Rightful Judge is The Father so who am i? But measly man on whom He Looks upon, I am not here to be a divider of people but rather to bring them To the Lord if they may come.
M ad
I am that craziness wrapped up in pure African skin, complicated in a bubbly personality to make me. Mad about Christ, Mad on people, Mad on Life. Totally Mad. My best quality yet and I embrace it with the same way a new born embraces Life.
P oet
Amateur poet striving for the Best, on the way to the top, Contemporary baby! In a way that gives my readers goosebumps, with standing hairs upon their neck wondering if I am of this Earth. No, I am not a bragger I am just merely writing what people have expressed to me.
H umble
This is a quality best left to be judged by others, but as a famous quote goes sometimes you need to give yourself a pat on the back. Humility a quality that is required of all to showcase the human factor in one. I embrace you.
I ndividual
Yes baby! You heard me right I am an individual in my own right, clasping on to my originality with both hands (tsoo-pedi). I love who I am, and my individuality is not a crutch, but a formation of the being that defines me, beauty, brains, flaws, sugar and spice baby. No one else like me walks this Earth.
L ove
The Lovistaér! Kgm kgm… I love to love and be loved, the love queen. Love is at the core of every human, how can we exist without i? It nailed My Saviour to the tree. The Four letter word with immense impact when uttered, it can not be taken back, powerful words! Change my world today with them words! Can you feel me???
E ntertainer
A self-defined ‘Born Entertainer’, how I Love to make people laugh, smile and be happy. I wanna be a ray of sunshine in your dark day, so let me bring you to the radiance of gladness in this blissful abyss I Invite you too, can you feel my spin?
Yes, this is a bad joke
Yes, this is a sad comedy
What an irony
What a parody
Smile and smirk, so you won’t be poked
What a hilarious lie! It is a travesty
Immigrants don’t eat pets
They eat beef, chicken, and pork
Like you and me. All bets
Are off. Let’s be serious and dark
Migrant workers are looking for jobs
What a spoiled brat candidate! Unnecessary stabs
And sound bites, this time, will not work
Migrants are people too
Yes, I’m talking to you
Who believe in fake news, half-truths and lies
All human lives matter in front of God. All lives
Are special. Migrants are the poor children
Of the Almighty. Give them food and haven
If your ultimate goal is to reach Heaven
It’s about time, the system puts the felon
In his place. Nobody wants a convicted liar
A criminal with a deferred sentence at the border
It’s sad to see a grumpy old con artist
On stage. There’s no place for a divider, a racist
In this day and age, in today’s political scene
How strange, unbelievable and obscene
To see a liar tremble before the Truth
God is Great. It’s time to pray and to play the lute
Immigrants do not eat pets. They are like you and I
They eat chicken, meat and pork, and also enjoy apple pie
It’s time for the judge to send the felon
Where the fellow belongs, in jail, in prison.
Copyright © 10 September 2024, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of numerous books of poetry.
Back in the days of the capitalist & commie regiments,
There was a structure that separated states & sentiments.
Mother Germania was divided by an expansive wall.
But someday this fence of Berlin had to fall.
Kennedy gave speeches, Gobrachev was asked to tear it down.
But nothing much happened, the Jerries still had their frowns.
Men were shot or taken away if caught on the dreaded border strips.
Only the daring Germans from East dared to make the “other side’ trips.
Brothers were torn apart, mothers couldn’t see their sons,
Peace movements & the media tried to protect the identity of Germans.
Finally, Hungary allowed the citizens to cross their country to the West.
Now the partition became less effective; people began to hope for the best.
In 89’, the sons of Germania picked up their sledgehammers.
Driven by the spirit of patriotism, they began breaking the Berlin divider.
No more dirty politics, the future had become bright.
Finally after bloodshed, it was a glory night.
Now, there’s no East or West, just the German nation,
A state built by power of the people after attempts of unification.
So the world once knew a thing called THE BERLIN WALL.
But nothing lasts forever; someday the structure had to fall.
Date-11/12/15
The cross is a plus (+), it's a positive sign (+),
It's not one of division, It is Holy, Divine.
If it is turn to it's side it will multiply (x)
Souls will come to Christ and satan we will defy.
It is not a divider, nor is it a fraction (1/10)
It is the place where God puts His love into action.
It is not a pie (~) in the sky, or a square root (/)
It is the moment when Jesus gave satan the boot.
It is not to make you greater (>) than or less (<) than another,
But to bring us all together equally (=) as sisters and brothers.
It is an added attraction that takes away (-) none,
This is why God sent His only begotten Son.
He will add to the church and take away sin;
This is one way our relationship with God begins.
So be positive (+) , not negative (-) when you think on the cross,
It is a plus(+), if I must, so that not one would be lost.
They locked eyes. Engines revved and roared.
When the light flashed green, tires screamed across the pavement,
other horns were honked, and a cup of Coke
flew across the lane divider into the lap of the second driver
even as the car of the first driver veered off
into a ditch, overturned, cabin
crunched into a tree
and three souls rode their last.
The traffic teacher says we must control our emotions, but I know
this is impossible. Emotion binds the heart of every human.
We can control our responses to these feelings, or else
ignore them entirely.
I wish I could choose the latter.
Time
the inscutable
transient host
Divider of hearts
Provider of dreams
clothes our desires
in a mantle of silk
where memories languish
like heart-shaped lockets
falling open
at a cherished whim
Partly shown
partly concealed
they appeal
to those who envy youth
while pledging wisdom
Nothing ventured
nothing gained
and
nothing
but echoing time
remains
In a void and darkened land I the spirit dwell.
From the darkness of that land I caused the light to swell.
Over all the darkened world the light shone so bright.
The light I called day, the darkness I called night.
God then called a firmament, in the midst of the waters gave it birth
And when the dry land did appear, God then named it Earth.
He gathered then the water, from the land He let it be
A divider of the waters from the waters, He named it then the sea.
God made a garden from the earth; the grass, the herb, the tree.
And it gave forth it’s luscious fruit as you will quickly see.
He spoke light in the heavens to divide day from night.
The sun by day, the moon by night; to give off it’s great light.
He spoke unto the waters and to the sky above
Bring forth great whales and such, He spoke it with great love.
Be ye fruitful and multiply ye fish that swim the sea.
You fowls that fly high in the air; bring glory unto me.
All living creatures of the earth, and every creeping thing
Multiply your own kind back, one of every living thing.
And then God said “let me make my image in a man”
And give him dominion over all of sea and land.
So out of dust he fashioned him, perfect in every way
He breathed His breath into him; it was the sixth day.