Best Doers Poems
ONE WORD~
Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis,
Running through my mind,
Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis,
Running through my veins,
A silica odor, dust walks through a fresh desert night
Cool air beneath and above the sea
A warm furnace smell, I don’t understand
Intricate to rise and receive without knowing
Up ahead in a virtue distance
A mysterious poisonous effluvium light-
My face feels like a leaf'
My sun holds up its own pendulum rods
Inflammation comes and settles in for the night,
There it stands in a pertinacious manner, with quality
I resurrect this air created from madness, all over again
Twilight, rain stranger than strange
Visions, pursue my path into an infested dark pasture
"From the red Heaven, I fell into the waters of a cobalt Hell"
Perhaps this venerable moment will pass slower than slow
PERHAPS NOT!
If I accept and then decline
Would this balance the precocious state I live in?
How about when wrong directions follow my promiscuous ways
Is my conglomeration of ideas, no longer safe?
When I no longer value the values of the young
Will I sleep at the mercy of his ancient heart
They're the voices give and take from our health
Today, those soft, perfect eyes are calling from far away,
Ashes high, vapors and infection welding me
The bright skies swallow every thin silver line,
Where the clouds sit somehow~ in bacteria
UNITY!
UNITY! Like a common curse
Always, wanting more than love can touch
We are living it up with no alibis!
A way to be and not to BE!
The champagne leaves their cup
Awaken in a life, disturbed ~ NOW INTERRUPT!
Only in this world, lava will reach her lips
Prisoners and doers;
All night…. Too late for a treatment
Lungs, decaying, evil rats
Direction, affection, ending all the inhalation
Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis,
Running through my lungs,
Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis,
Flat-lined my life ____/\ /\___ ___/\______/\___ _______________
By: PD
Quote: Know your value. Confidence breeds success. Act like the person you want to become, and people will start seeing you as that person.
Mark M Ford
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Those who embrace, avid ambitions of heart,
To them shall the reigns of future belong;
From charted path of passion, they never part
For earnest is the promise treasured for long.
O, how they strive, aiming for heavenly skies,
Flexing audaciously to conquer higher highs,
Fixated on life’s goals with purposeful eyes,
Focused mindfully, primed to win the prize.
On might of confidence when achievers roar,
On strength of willpower their dreams soar
Employing fortitude resolutely brought to fore,
Sailing to shores, dreamt in travails of yore.
Glumness they defy of shroud and sorrow,
Planting seeds of hope in despair of woes,
Aspiring bright horizons on dawns of morrow
Overcoming hapless shadows cast in throes.
O, the doers and believers instinctively know,
Hurdled with failures is the road to success,
As they drive dreary nights to mornings aglow,
Fueled by aspirations, dreams revered possess.
Modeled by the skilled and clumsy hands
of artists and artisans into an ideal state of she-ness,
a penniless waif appears on a stool
last week a stranger called her Mona Lisa.
Statuesque upon the betrayer
warmed by the lemon-lolly light from
bays of north facing windows, blinded;
she can but blink.
Surrounded by a
cog-notched cyclical wheel of nubile artists—
blooming buds of wildness, vertical sprigs
flail softly on the breezy bounty of
illumination.
Brush and trowel, thick and thin,
the artists stoke her—semblance
canvased by millennium brush biters
maudlin Mary is returned to the pre-historic stew
by the likes of Claude
polished to a pearly perfection
by type A, Hieronymus’.
They were all strangers to her posers,
every bit as much as she.
Royal pretenders in a world
where only the artless
are paid.
Moneylenders rise on their discarded carapaces
beauty sucked dry by the doers and shakers
who spread like choking bittersweet through
the lollypop-light from the bay windows facing north
consuming Mona.
Julie ford Oliver - Famous Models
Ekphrasis
First Appeared in Illumen Magazine Fall of 2014
A fatherless generation
153 million or more
Abandoned and forgotten
Desperate and poor
A prisoner to hopelessness
Everyday so full of fear
In this chaotic world they live in
Nothing is ever clear
Could one soul make a difference..
If one could bring love near?
I've seen a thousand pictures
That can't escape my mind
Children without futures,
special needs of every kind
So much pain and suffering
And none of it makes sense
Orphans weary and distressed
In the present tense
So forgive me, my friends
if this sounds intense...
But I'm gonna say this loud
to make it clear
We've got to be doers
we can't disappear
We really need to care
let's remove excuse and fear
You and me are the difference
If we bring love near!
Today precious babies
Are abandoned with HIV or Downs
The world sees them as broken
Unwanted, lost and unfound
I pray there'll rise an advocate
Who refuses to let this be
So I'm gonna say this loud
to make it clear
We've got to be doers
we can't disappear
We really need to care
let's remove excuse and fear
You and me are the difference
if we bring love near!
In another country
That seems so far away
A teenage orphaned princess
Is aging out today
Someone needs to cry out
This sex-trade tragedy is not ok
So will you say this loud
to make it clear
We've got to be doers
we can't disappear
We really need to care
let's remove excuse and fear
You and me are the difference
if we bring love near!
Let's advocate loud, and not disappear
If we really care, we can bring love near!
~Lyric Man
Note: This is a write about the plight of fatherless orphans in our world. My passion is caring for hurting, vulnerable children. I use every resource I have to advocate internationally. I pray my life will be used to make a difference!
safe haven for poets once existed
till destructive forces came on board
those who seek just to hurt others
end up harming themselves
several such people have inflicted pain here
though no one would call them “writers”
juvenile antics and hateful comments
are their only legacies
through profanity and threats
digging holes to poetry’s Armageddon
alienating those who won’t strike back
or resort to petty, personal attacks
they say, "You're the most despised among the soup clan"
spew lava-like proclamations
hold grudges for years when they don't place
in a contest where only quality work won
evil doers adopt numerous aliases
to favorite each of their own poems
but poets can easily identify them
as their “attempts” at poems all sound the same
if one who can’t write, gives you a contest win
what is it you have really won
their friendship? No, they don’t have friends
do you compare your poetry to theirs
who wants to share on such a site
where mean-spirited people call the shots
other places enforce rules to promote civility
let your conscience guide you to these sites
August 18, 2014
They come from a different era
where patriotism is a just cause
they would fight for the true blue
never mind who was right or wrong
they stood staunch and egos proud
their chest out, backs straight and chins up
they come from an old style of thinking
I fight today as my father and grandfather did too.
fighting for an eye for an eye tooth for a tooth
I will die to serve my country even if its a lie
if you try to invade our land
we will come and conquer you
we are defenders of the truth
but the old timers forget
and the young ones have a narrow point of view
there was a time when the immigrants were Irish, Italians and jews
racism was rampant and that hasn't changed
Christians today still preach
'Jesus is savior they say repent your evil ways
pushing their rhetoric just like the roman empire did
amazingly America seems to be doing the same
history seems to repeat itself time and time again
war, religion, oil and what we perceive as freedom
we invade again and again and call it defending democracy
yet the intelligence comes from spies and other governments
because they have shared interests in different types of policy
they all carefully choose their words
because one slip of the lip could trigger war as it has happened before
todays war on terrorism is a campaign designed to instill pain
and un-trust to drain our resources from us
And our leader claimed up front this is not a religious war
yet he paraphrases from the bible we'll get those evil doers
you see bush fooled our religious leaders too.
he used their belief in Jesus he tricked 'em all just to get their vote
he claims he's a born again Christian and this Christians embraced him holly
but then one day bush spoke to Jesus and asked what to do with Iraq
Jesus responded Invade that country
Now dont get me wrong Jesus was not about war
he taught of peace, love and compassion
however his message has been twisted and turned over time
and history shows the hands of Christian religious leaders are always bloody
because they twist the truth to control dictatorship is always the goal
Bush had been plaining war before a judge handed him the seat
on his first day he signed a bill into law prevent any criminal charges against him
The 100 Year War
I rise
Mighty and strong
Armor plated and ready for battle
I shall behead the infidel
I shall conquer the evil doers
I am a warrior
Both great and bad
I am a warrior, and
I am sad
Tears fall upon my sword
I know not why
This great warrior why do I cry?
I can battle an army and rise the victor
Yet I can not rise out of me bed
I am sad and lethargic
I am weak in the knee
I am depressed
To much sadness in me
Lovers a plenty
Conquered lands and treasures
I have it all
Yet the sadness invades
The depths of me soul
I give my heart to all that I love
I feed the poor
From the spoils of my wars
Yet here I am, I think a kind soul
Burdened in darkness
Depression is my hole
My love I know this seems bizarre
You have all you wish, a rising star
A Black Knight with honors flying high
To you I say forgive me please
For battles you never shall see
I lie down
In our garden of roses
Thorns to make me feel more than I do
For the darkness robs us both
For me to feel you
Good by my love
Notes: Anyone for has suffered depression, knows that a 100 year war is nothing compared to battling depression.
I put my money to work
I put my words into action
Turning my thoughts into reality
Screaming the power of one
We are misled by the world
Adapting wrong information
Refraining from our own destiny
People telling us we are nothing
Laughing at our crazy dreams
I use my head for correction
Let my mind wonder a little bit
Mixing all the chemicals in the reaction
I don't need any approbation
Screw the world, if it stands still
Till the end of my days
New star every week
Old star gonna perish
New year with a new weep
Let us stand up as the world
Help women and children
Put wrong doers into prison
Liberty for all the people
I put my words into action
Let alone no perfection
The world needs affection
Working with the law of attraction
The last days are here!
There are wars
There are rumors of wars
Nature revolts every where!
False prophets!
With strange doctrines
Feed fat on human frailities
To man’s utter bewilderment!
Strange illnesses!
Stranger than fiction
Hold humanity
In deadly grips
Terror bearers!
Bearing human inventions
Kill and maim
In the World’s streets.
God said to our early parents
“ Go and multiply and fill the earth’’
But in disobedience
Sexual immorality rule the world
Let us repent and change our ways!
For the rapture is close at hand
The righteous will be heaven-bound
while evil doers will burn in hell.
Para Todos~ for Everyone
This world works for all who work it.
Sitting and complaining, no, you will
not make it.
The Doers of this planet,oh, so hated!
The freeloaders walk the world unabated.
Victimhood, oh how we praise it!!!
True goodness~ oh how we hate it.
Envy and jealousy overcome us.
So soullost we hunt the good ones.
Searching for the people who blame things
on!
When it is we who all partake in bad
mouthing everyone.
You are blessed if this is not you,
You are indeed an angelic one,you!
God walks with you!
Panagiota Romios
4/29/2019
11:45pm PST
I am one of the nearly men
Never quite the best
Not really of the crowd
Not quite one of the rest.
You see us in every photograph
When the prizes are handed out
Making up the numbers yet
Never standing out,
For we nearly men and dreamers
Just stand back and allow
The doers and the action men
Their triumphal bows.
We feed our children humour
And tell them it’s no disgrace
To amble along comfortably
In the middle of the race.
We don’t believe in heavens
Or gods at pearly gates
So we try with dignity
To accept our various fates.
We consume our allotted portions
And when it’s time to die
We face it not with a roar
But with a quiet sigh.
Nearly men and dreamers
Never quiet never loud
Trying their hardest not
To mingle with the crowd.
Death never favours
Death does not discriminate between
Saints and sinners
losers and winners
Princes and paupers
followers or leaders
Dependents or
breadwinners
The fatter or thinner
Those who over ate of life's banquet
and those who austerely skipped its dinner.
Or the healed and the healers
the kinder or the meaner
The angels of death almost acting
as finders keepers
Today to lie in shrouds and coffins
yesterday's pall bearers
But many sigh with relief
when it kills the killers
It's upto us to part from the world
as loved good doers
Ah death may just knock
at anybody's lock.
Death is indiscriminate
yet curse it not
for it's a mere transition
to another new more perfect world
We didn't enjoy
coming into this world either
judging from all that bawling we did as newborns
When we're born we cry
but our folks happily rejoice
but we don't when we die
when our folks weep in mourning voice.
As human bones upon death gather dust
and are merged and lost in the earth's crust
The souls fly to heaven coz they must.
Do You ever just get tired of Being You?
Up there on The Highest of pedestals as You rule...
Is It You feeling selfish or alone as an unhinged fool?
I care of Your most inner thoughts and about You often...
May My remarks make Your Strength become more soften.
Do You ever get tired of Being You?
Even with All Your Money or possibly Self for filled greed...
I can't help You understand for I only have Me to need.
I hope I can Be of Your Beckoned Service when You actually want to See.
For as I share this marking wound of Your deepest fear I hide inside Me.
Do You ever just get tired of Being You?
The Children captured in Their different varieties of worlds holding pain...
Wondering if Their Next Meal or life matters that may or will ever Be obtained.
I'm just trying to hit Our common grounds to Our Survival...
We are just mismatched in A Huge Puzzle yet unsolved as We form rivals.
Do You ever just get tired of Being You?
As The Richest of People plummet into cesspool of remorse over My thoughts...
There Doors locked for discussion as Wars are created from the shadows taught.
Do You ever just get tire of being You?
The Length of A swore is vast,thicken with Evil Doers,and blood drenches are filled.
The firmness In My Words silenced;I have spoken from My small mind as willed.
All left for concern of Me;is silent,disheartening,as Your sunsets go on for now... All is red and done;Seemly to reflect empty words dusted underneath A sad Brow.
DREAMERS AND DOERS
A father, two sons and one request
“would you in my vineyards time and energy invest?”
the first said no, but later thought better and went
the second said yes, but later lost his intent
which of these sons did right – what was meant?
DREAMER OR DOER—OUR GAME PLAN IN LIFE
Dreams are wonders that have been put in our hearts
wide-spread visions, fanaticizing art off the charts
sadly fantasies no matter how worthy
are futile if no action springs off ambitious journey
DREAMER OR DOER—OUR GAME PLAN IN LIFE
God gives us our visions but requires we further advance
write steps down – take that chance-- your life to enhance
discern and encourage His dreams for your life
His timing—His wisdom… then act without strife
DREAMER OR DOER—OUR GAME PLAN IN LIFE
(Based on Jesus’ parable in Matthew 21:28-32)
Copyright© May 2013—Kim van Breda
My ancestors walking in the night
using oil lights and moonlight for guides
while being instructed to Wade in the Water
to camouflage their scents like disguise
The Sweet Chariot awaited
so they could ride away
Harriet was a soldier
and it wasn't an option to be caught during the day
That's the same mentality Nat Turner had when he sang
Steal Away
They would follow the drinking gourd
so all were in accord to go north
The Gospel Train was coming
and at the end of the journey
was a fine reward
Freedom was coming
and it was a long time coming and
they walked until they heard freedom bells ringing
and I still hear their tired footsteps running
Thinking of My Darling Nelly Gray
Stolen from my arms a random September day
and eliminated our chances to run away together
No family ties, no love, no strength says the oppressor
Then I hear the drums beat in the darkness
giving me the hope of finally being free
Maybe I'll follow them this time on faith
on bended knee
There must be a place for me among the light
of this darkness
Among oppression, thieves, evil-doers
no thought on their conscience
Thank goodness for the safe houses that
supported our traveled distances
and for the conductors who bore witnesses
and may God have mercy on the souls who
were against this
and on those who chose to forget this sh@!
I still hear crying in quilts of safety
because I know that the burden was heavy
to be at the mercy of nature and patrol men
catching run-away slaves for money
Some did it bare feet with freedom ahead of this
loved induced journey and they made it
So all that bull about how your life is hard
just stuff it in an envelope and save it