Best Doles Poems
I won't be obedient,
I'll be defiant
Of laws that have no compassion.
I won't obey laws that condemn man.
A law that stops beggars begging,
So they can't eat a morsel of bread,
I'll not tolerate as I won't see them dying,
For the good won’t die but will be fed.
A law that takes most of our hard earned money
To build fancy things, I'll not tolerate,
Or that allows the politicians to be fat, rich and greedy.
I won't obey laws that condemn man.
A law that puts a man in prison,
For stealing a loaf of bread, I'll not tolerate
As he needed it to feed his family for good reason,
And the Injustice system which did this I’ll obliterate.
A law that doles out the death penalty on an alleged murderer
Is not right for he can't fight his innocence from the damn coffin,
And innocent he was as the evidence was in error.
I won't obey laws that condemn man.
A law that discriminates against others,
Because of creed, religion or colour
Is not right and politicians shouldn't wield that power,
And they’ll cower before God’s Altar.
I won't be chained or repressed.
I won't allow their cruelty and immorality
To touch me as I'm blessed by God's Caress.
I won't obey laws that condemn man.
Our poor, disabled, diseased and insane won't suffer,
As they'll be blessed by our Lord and our compassion and care.
They'll always be in the light of God's Magnificence and Power.
And they’ll adorn His Fields as they bloom in sweet flower.
A law that stops me saying what I'm saying in these lines
Is a law that stifles free speech and suffocates the spirit.
Saying kind and humanist things shouldn't be seen as rude but are fine.
I won't obey laws that condemn man.
Let them stone me, ridicule me and treat me like an imbecile,
For I'll live my life with God's Laws, not their rules.
For my mouth, I won't seal,
And my soul, they can’t steal.
Enter Your Plea
All rise for the honorable judge,
some pimply-faced wiener-teen
with a computer mouse for a gavel,
a keyboard for a bench
and the whole world is on trial.
Welcome to the millennial's millennium
1000 years of cyber-bullying
sworn over oath of the holy Facebook
to rain down judgment from above
like precision guided twitter turds.
Any minor misstep makes you a target,
bully-proof vests will spare no one
for Punk-tilious is his name
and ruthless forum flaming is his game
(well, it’s that or Flappy Bird.)
Let all give ear, as he doles
expert opinion on politics, science,
sociology, psychology, and every other –ology
from his sweat-stained easy chair
in his parent’s basement. OMG WUT!??
ORDER! Order in the court,
20 million likes and three times the shares,
a jury of my peers has found
me guilty of contempt…
perhaps rightly so!
07/19/15
Songbirds tweet, celebrating the day
that the Sun first announces it's Spring.
And praise the blessings Spring sent their way,
expressed in the melodies they sing.
Spring gathers drops, morning mist has shed,
gleaned from vapors in which dreams are spun.
And drips dewdrops on a spider's web
or blades of grass caressed by the sun.
Spring's sweet scent rides on a gentle breeze,
soft as a smile on a baby's lips.
And tending to hummingbirds and bees,
She doles out nectar in tiny sips.
Radiant as moonbeams on water,
She is a subtle breath of fresh air.
And as befitting Nature's daughter,
wildlife flourishes under Spring's care.
When my days turn dim and nights grow chill,
I wonder, does he sometimes think of me still.
When darkness continues to last without end,
I wonder, has he found a new intimate friend.
Tossing upon these crumpled bed sheets,
I wonder, who doles to him such sweets?
When sleep alludes me for restless yearning,
I wonder, when will love for him stop burning.
Long ago he told me he hates to be all alone.
Does it ever cross his mind to use the phone?
And if he called, what would we think to say,
I shouldn't wonder, it will not happen that way.
After all this time, it's better that we remain apart.
It's the only way I know to salve my wounded heart.
Violet Jessop, threat ahead
Escaping Poseidon’s death toll’s
“Look after this, will you?” He said
She did, counting down the portholes
First the Olympic’s nurse enrolls
Last, the Britannic’s noon code red
Titanic claimed her shipmate’s souls
Violet Jessop, threat ahead
Miss Unsinkable showed no dread
There as a nurse of many roles
To safety, others she had led
Escaping Poseidon’s death toll’s
The Titanic, tragedy doles
Passed a bundle with tiny head
As he returned to his patrols
“Look after this, will you?” He said
This man was cursed to join the dead
One thing left under her controls
Hold this babe close while others tread
She did, counting down the portholes
Life for her was not grassy knolls
Dreamt of the sea from in her bed
Board the Olympic, heat the coals
The ocean from her veins she bled
Violet Jessop.
March 14, 2023
"Double the Fun" Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Joseph May
Written of Violet Jessop otherwise known as Miss Unsinkable or Queen of Sinking ships. She survived the near sinking of the Olympic, the tragedy of the Titanic and the sinking (after being hit by a torpedo) of the Britannic. Following all of this, she returned to working on ships (including the repaired Olympic) until retirement. One more interesting little tidbit I read, 59 years after the Titanic sunk, she got a phone call from the baby she was handed and saved. I thought she had an interesting story to say the least.
admittely i am one treasonous cat
and people everywhere had better take note
i ain't no republican nor democrat
and i don't see any reason for phools to vote
listen up people,
politics are a plague perceived of by desperate men
folks who sold themselves out fora few sheckles or less
and i must confess Jefferson and Franklin, quite frankly, were all fu**ed up
they dictated this declaration that declared us free to pursue our independence
but in the parenthesis they lasciviously limited our liberties
then there are those conventions that follow conventions conceived of by phools
and i'd appreciate it if someone could explain their rules
because conventions are circuitous circuses minus three rings and decorum
a most useless and absurd forum
they do, however, contain clowns that pour out of tiny little cars
and reveal a sick society's scars
they are meetings for a faction of felonious freaks who foist phoolishness on phools in places like Philly that are simply silly
or elsewhere
as they run around willy nilly casting votes akin to a fishing rod aimed at a pitiful pond
well there ain't no flounder in Philly or anywhere else as far as i am concerned
whilst i have been more than twice burned
and methinks the the fishing really stinks
while their constituents constitute a confusing array of idiots who idealize con-artists
men and women who treat candidates like they are Hollywood stars
well if you ask me Jennifer Anniston would make a pretty good prez
says me
she's got the curves for congress, the sexiness for the senate
and tempting t*ts that would make her perfect for a titular head of state
now, have i stated my case to your satisfaction?
so you can stand in line to vote for one of these assh*les
alas as for me i'd rather vote for Jennifer or someone of her kind
i'm sick of your Clintons, Bushes and Bobby Doles
and take this for the Gospel as preached by the undersigned
(c) 2012....PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~
The places of our past are ingrained
Stop fidgeting, they won’t go away
They long to be placed under lock and key
To bring us more pain for we can see
The power of the presence of their kind
The unlikelihood of their passing by
But their tower objection to be lost
By the wayward intellect at no cost
I cannot fathom their interest in us
The power towards infection, lack of trust
Leading us astray, but keeping us here
Longing for the ways that we could steer
Worlds apart, they don’t even start for me
But paths delinquent, and spot on certainly
Without much thought of their glance
They don’t give me much of a chance
Stop nagging, they intimidate my soul
The play rolls on forever, it surely doles
Out without suspicion, just self-reliant
And every place it goes, I’m still defiant
To this day the past remains in place
Firmly – without even a way to escape
It talks to me in my sleep, nightmares employ
Lost upon my pillow, I do not enjoy
Tomorrow is another day, filled with spite
If I cannot rid my mind of this fight
To be in the present without much thinking
Of the past spelling the way out blinking
Upon the grass weeds of horrors
Nothing allows the timepiece colors
In only black and white it moves forward
Stuck in one place, as I move onward
Russell Sivey
When life doles out unexpected twists and turns
we become overwhelmed and feel as if our faith has
been spurned,
Relationships fall by the wayside, sometimes through
no fault of our own, people let us down and stresses
keep piling up and we feel as if we could drown,
There are times when bad things happen to good people,
even with care and caution, life throws us a wave of
repulsion unmasking our innocence and illusions,
Those of us who manage to survive the overwhelming
nature of life, find our own delusion in the deception of others
who we hold dear and in high esteem,
The people who have the ability to hurt us deeply,
make it a habit, hurting us continually until we muster
up the nerve to say enough!
In summer`s eve
where all is given and nothing kept back,
she that will come, will come.
In autumn`s loveliness
where nature doles out solace
to the restless soul,
i linger, i listen;
awaiting the sound of her footfall.
I will neither have to look in her eyes,
nor get a glimpse of her drape dripping by to know her,
for my heart will know her
when she comes.
The ammunition greased casings pepper skull and cross lovely bones,
lightening speedily deals mortal blow persons unaware,
the final minutes/seconds of lives leased
shorn of existence, and akin to sheared sheep, this case
targeted ambushed ewe mon souls permanently fleeced
instantaneously cut short sealed mortality fate upon Avast group ceased
to exist as happy go lucky men, women and/or children
from most fearsome beast.
Instantaneous re: within the blink and/or flickr survive
er eyed, and former gallivanting live
capitalone progressive pinterest ting human con hive
ving to collide with hulu hooping unwittingly accompanying jive
vin track hewed by quick draw mcgraw holster
sending dead riders to final resting place.
Ribald exhortations and allegiance gifted who usher bereave
ment, where demise of existence experiences a field day,
whence microbes gorge viz Philabundance, while next of kin grieve
incalculable loss forsaken, whence emptiness doles bleakness
upon grim outlook that doth leave tears, brought per spilt blood and sweat
tallying cost, no miracle whipped lifeless ones can survivors retrieve.
Mortal kombat rues unfathomable payless Priceline Bourse
induces adrenaline to course thru melee,
where iron maidens sprint non selfie ish
lee to safer outlook, where moments of pain force
besiege collective asylum seekers indulge gorse
faux Joyus fancyfeast er vanityfair, whence sorrow loosed like a wild horse
diehard fanatic (attired inconspicuously like
dishabille schlepper of an outlier) source
index finger clutch released high-powered voluminous ammunition
murderous mass homicidal rates get worse.
Netzero escape those unfairly killed ceaselessly year after year
undeclared warfare,
whereby killer coolly unleashes fusillade veer
ring out the barrel to tear
whole community fabric, blithely empty lethal munitions truckload to spare.
The blaze of azure up above has taken on a new pallor,
The sun, so fervent for so long, now doles out its ardor.
Falling leaves pirouette in the air in amber and gold,
A drizzle of brittle tears, shed from their lofty abode.
The summer breeze has withdrawn its sultry embrace,
Is now but a chill sigh stealing away in haste.
Streets that were robed in many a splendid hue,
Have slipped off their finery, donned an air subdued.
The day that lingered, now sings an early swan song,
Shooed away by a nocturne that’s languid and long.
Summer has departed, my love, autumn is in the air.
As the city starts to shiver, will passion cease to flare?
Will the summer of our love stay on against all odds?
Or will it flee from the frost of fear-addled thoughts?
When spring, at long last, shows her first blush,
Will our pledges flower, or will our hearts be hushed?
If winter follows winter, if seasons desert these shores,
I know, dear, my love for you will still grow evermore.
A storm doles out this dismal night
Rain drops drizzle down cobblestone course
Beast and bird burrow safely till light
No stranger to me, this tatty leather chair
Shadows dancing, cast the flickering fire
A creatures den, for the wretched a lair
Hoping of hopes, dreaming of dreams
Of such I have lost all desire
Rain knocks on my door,
Gloom enters once more
His attendance perceived
Lest my sanity leave
By the string that I cling as before
I long to surrender
The ability to remember
My fall into torments of hell
This chair, the fire, misery befall
The devils that dance on the floor
I always wished to be a dad
But I never had kids
I imagined other kids to be my own
Your daughter was my step daughter I wished to have
I know you don't want to make it happen
You still wants to be a single mother
You took sacrifices to make her happy
your burdens were so high
I wished to share them with you
You never allowed me to help you
You want to be independent
It is ok to be independent
But receive help when you deserve it
We are dependent one another
Seek help if they don't abuse you later
Leave your ego behind and be simple
I had no patients to wait
I found rag doles in a store
It seemed like they are smiling at me
It seemed like they are begging me to take them home
I remembered my visit to an adoption centre years ago
There were kids from infancy to five years old
People visit there everyday
They were barren parents
They picked the kids they like to have
Some kids were ignored by everyone
Everyday they waitied for someone
Someone will come and take me home
I need a dad and a mom
I don't want to be an orphan
I need a family
I want to love and be loved
I didn't make a second thought
I bought two ragdoles
I took them home
They are still at my room
I called then my step daughters
They took away my loneliness
They are making my life meaningful
I hug them and kiss them everyday
I feel like a dad
When I hug them
I feel like a mom
When I kiss them
Oh ! Wonderful is to be a dad
Oh ! Great is to be a mom
It is wonderful and great
To be dad and mom at the same time
DEMOCRAPS AND REPUBLICANTS
Admittedly I am one creatively crazy cat
And people everywhere better take note
I ain’t no Republican nor am I a democrat
And I don’t see any reason for me to vote
Listen people, politics are a plague perceived of by desperate men
Folks who sold themselves out for a few sheckles or less
And I must confess Jefferson and Franklin, quite frankly, were all f*cked up
They dictated this declaration that declares us free to pursue our independence
But in the parenthesis they lasciviously limit our liberties
Then there are those conventions that follow conventions conceived of by fools
And I’d appreciate it if someone could explain their rules
Because conventions are circuitous circuses minus three rings and decorum
They do, however, contain clowns that pour out of tiny little cars
And reveal the scars of a sick society
They are forums for a faction of felonious freaks who foist foolishness on those fools in places like Philly
As they run around willy nilly casting votes like a fishing rod aimed at a pitiful pond
Well there ain’t no flounder in Philly or elsewhere as far as I am concerned
While I have been more than twice burned
And methinks that the fishing really stinks
While their constituents constitute a confusing array of idiots who idealize con-artists
Men and women who treat candidates like Hollywood stars
Well if you ask me, Jennifer Anniston would make a pretty good prez
Says me
She’s got the curves for congress, the sexiness for the senate
And tempting t*ts that would make her perfect for a titular head of state
Now, have I stated my case to your satisfaction?
So you can stand in line to vote for one of these ass h*les
As for me I’d rather vote for Jennifer or someone of her kind
I’m sick of your Clintons, Kerrys and Bobby Doles
And take it for the Gospel as preached by the undersigned
© 2012….copyright PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~
lost in a haze of smoke and guns
scratching blood from subtle gums
minds been drawing blanks in recent weeks
quiet muses downright refuse to speak
twisted and turned outside in
the seeds of envy never know where to begin
whats your name oh yeah and whats your number
i mumble outrageously in restless slumber
hands outheld in expectation
raging chaos doles out my own condemnations
we hate any weakness
we hate any weakness
you'll never survive with such pathetic meekness.
get back to the hole you just crept out from
get back get back get back
tear through the fabric with eyes of black
theres nothing at all to see.