Best Dorms Poems
Why A Poem Is More Than Ink On A Page
Why a poem is more than ink on a page
its heart, soul and sweet treasure at any age
can be expressing sorrows and deep rage
or gems of wisdom from a brilliant sage,
a singer that lyrics so sweetly move
or artist that dares to share cool groove
a magical huntress, for true romance
a bold gambler, willing to take a chance.
Why poems are more than just paper ink stained
they are truth, often from those painting, deep pained
they are treasures, from those with braver hearts
or valiant cast dreams from across star charts,
a warrior, singing of courageous deeds
or farmer, planting hope and true word seeds
a sailor, sailing through turbulent storms
a paper kids sitting in college dorms.
Why poems are gifts that the reader rewards
they are aces in life's hands of living cards
with wins that can benefit one and all
or valiant words sent to answer a call,
a lost soul, asking for some great relief
or sinner unburdening darkest grief
a lover, horribly lost in a maze
a phoenix rising from hot, fiery haze.
Why a poem is more than ink on a page
its heart, soul and sweet treasure at any age
can be expressing sorrows and deep rage
or gems of wisdom from a brilliant sage,
a singer that lyrics so sweetly move
or artist that dares to share cool groove
a magical huntress, for true romance
a bold gambler, willing to take a chance.
Robert J. Lindley, November 9th, 2000
edited, July 13th, 2006,
March 7th, 2020
Note: We write because we must, we write because we should,
we write because to not write is a heartache, we write to unburden
our souls, we write to give to others, we write to record we existed,
we write to say we are imperfect, we are loved, we are forgiven, we are hopeful, we are dreamers, we are artists, we are painters, we are craftsmen,
we are fighters, we are lost, we are found and we care about more than just ourselves, etc..
Of all the things that I have lost
Perhaps what hurts the most
Is that I can no longer go
to where I once called home...
I cannot roam with childish glee
Down through the leafy grove
Nor play with snowballs, dance is snow
Then thaw beside the stove
I cannot use pink muhlberries
To paint my childish lips
I cannot eat the greens I've picked
Right down to soily tip
I cannot brown my little legs
Beneath the blazing sun
Or slpash in cold and icy pool
Until the day is done
I cannot play my hide and seek
With gateman's little kids
Nor drink the flavored Persian tea
Chase dreams through drooping lids
I cannot rub the walnut skins
And stain my fingers black
I cannot gorge on cherries sweet
I can't bring one day back
I cannot pick the blubell flowers
Or swing from walnut tree
I cannot gorge on luscious fruit
Those mountains, I can't see
I cannot run through fresh green grass
Nor bask on asphlat walk
I cannot run through classroom halls
Or tire from childish talk
I cannot show off gardened home
To foreigners and say,
"This place is really paradise
That none can steal away"...
I had a dream last night that I was back in my childhood home in Tehran, Iran. We lived in a walled, gated compoud that was the property of our church. My father was a school principal and the administration building and dorms were on our campus. We were situated in Shemran, at the foot of the ELBRUS mountain range. The compund was green.....beautiful. We'd swim in the icy cold pool then lie on asphalted walks to warm up. We had a cherry orchard, walnut, apple, apricot, plum, muhlberry, and almond trees. It would snow in winter, and My brothers would jump off the roof of our house into the snow. I can't describe the ache in my heart at not being able to go back. It was an enchanting childhood and no one can steal my memories. After the revolution in 1979, the government took over the property....but they can't take My dreams. I've shared this....painstakingly written on my phone because my dream was so vivid. I needed to share...
Fear of rejection can come to us all
Feeling alone like facing the wall
All the outside just staring in
If only they could see what is within
Not feeling the spirit from all around
Just want to hide, open up the ground!
Rejection can come in many forms
From playground antics and college dorms
It can even turn up in a relationship
Too change this one shoot from the hip
To tackle rejection do it head on
Find out why and remain strong
Is it emotional or is it social
Both of these are psychological
They can be treated and sorted out
But remain calm try not to shout
Rejection can cause anger and aggression
External and even inward explosion
Don't blame yourself as this you don't need
Find a safe place, breathe slowly or read
A reason for this thought you won't find
It's a receptor buried deep in the mind
Studies say it's from out evolutionary past
They managed, so keep calm have a blast
Emotional pain is hard to ignore
Stay positive and don't become a bore
Pick yourself up and find the light
Then your life will start to be bright
Keep working on the little things
Then you will find what happiness brings
Slaves could not devise an escape plan until their thinking arrived in a free state of mind. Couldn't begin to break free from bondage that surrounded their bodies because an intact spirit was key for the freedom they needed. So they, the masters, solidified sanctuaries and brought a savior to fix a brokenness they had induced. Gave one direction to single point of entry. Told them to repent for sins they were never privy to until illegitimate children began establishing the first welfare state. Then they said, "It's all on you." That makeshift cell formed dorms and prisons broken men came to live in. One thought he was free, while the other began forming an escape plan. Both came from the same sanctuary designed to keep them from attaining a free state of mind. One grew accustomed to it. The other ran out there screaming, "I knew it! I knew it!" If God were truly in man, we wouldn't had to devise such an elaborate escape plan. And if he is, why did he beat this attitude in me?
KEEPING UP WITH THE DOW JONESES
These here are the indisputable facts
I was born on the right side of the tracks
WITH People who only smiled if their stocks or equity increased
If not they wouldn’t have minded becoming deceased
They had big cars, big bucks and big time class
With a million dollar house mortgaged up the a*s
Their children went to private schools in uniforms
With charming and well decorated dorms
I looked at their faces and wondered why I didn’t fit
That’s when the fire in my belly was originally lit
I had no desire to play with kids from private schools
Nor did I ever agree to obey by their rules
So one day I skipped over steel and these here are the facts
The people I found lived in tents, not even shanties or shacks
But they didn’t have to read Dow Jones in order to smile
And couldn’t care less about having Gucci type style
They smiled at things people ignore like little tykes at play
And somehow or other they AWOKE contented day after day
They had no stocks to watch fretfully fall or RESOUNDINGLY rise
And you could see the easiness in their gleaming eyes
That which I observed in them appealed to me a great deal
The wrong side people taught me how satisfied I could feel
They lived out of back-packs, antique cedar chests and sacks
So if you come a’looking for me I’ll be on the wrong side of the tracks
© 2011.…Phreepoetree ~free cee!~
Walk Of Shame
Did you see that girl walk by?
I can tell, she got a guy
It's 9am, her hair's a mess
Sunday morning in a party dress?
Mascara run, lipstick smeared
She thought, this hour, all coasts were cleared
Oh but no, her I did see
And as she stumbled, she saw me
High heels on, cell in hand
Back to the dorms, she walked on Grand
Walk of shame, oh how you expose
The true nature of the hoes
Guys wake up to chill on their lawn
As freshmen girls grudgingly pursue on
Calling out, "Well how was your night!?"
Girls wish their walk was out of sight
I just laugh and point them out
More so notifying all via shout
"Walk of Shame, that is you!"
These young girls, they've got no clue
The ones who get it, then take off
Again next weekend, it's never enough
Get any guy, hooking up's their game,
But each time regretting the walk of shame.
You might think I judge too hard
Not giving them the innocent card
I shouldn't talk, I'm such a hypocrite
That was me yesterday morning, I will admit.
Possessed by animalistic lust
In a realm of fantasies
Sexualized beauties hands creep across their lover's skull
Every breath stolen from seductive rose lips
Bowing down in devotion, engaging in cunnilingus
Enticing demoness stripping from their panties and stockings
Released from their garterbelts and fishnets
Masochist chained, wiped, and ball-gagged
Anilingus stimulation before the act of sodomizing pleasure
The dorms fill with a musty scent
Maidens smell enticing with incense in their hair
Masturbating to the sexual atmosphere
Everyone is spreading the language of feral behavior
Arousement blooming between their legs
Feel her warm tongue, surrender to her you must
The feeling of being bitten and clawed sends shivers down your body, cumming on her breast
Caught in a haze looking into each others wild eyes
Don't you just love untamed copulation
A gathering of promiscuous, Polymorphous beings
Harlots entwined in passion, love, and erotic desires
The embodiment of sadistic penetration while yanking at their pierced teats with your mouth
Left drained is it all an illusion. this can't be real
This day, this night shall be eternal
Celebrating the offered sin of lust
Ooh man, life could well
be a bed of roses
If only love alone
sprinkled from the hoses.
If only love flowed like
an endless stream
If only love didn't end
like a dream.
In all certainty, the
antonym of love
plunges you in the bed
of thorns
Much unlike the agile yet
peaceful dove
love grows weeds, rust
and horns!
I so pity the lovelorn, the
lovesick, the forlorn
whose lover flew out
the window last morn
But I know too of pure
loves that outlast the
storms
for one, they didn't
begin in high school
dorms.
They weren't
instantaneous and
impulsive loves for sure
Less whimsical,
and within the bounds
of the marital bond
their love tis bound to
endure.
In conjugal bliss's
hammock
fickle lovers cannot rock.
For without holy
matrimony
Is merry go round love's
agony
Hailed countries, old and new
Old civilization, myth or true
North to South, poetry of bards
East to West like flash of cards
Names on maps are words in gaps
Eloquence or simplicity in poetry snaps
Your poetry speaks of geography
Origins of people, languages and philosophy
Your words and thoughts so grand in many forms
Rocks of inspiration in a volcano dorms
After chewing shoe leather they called steak,
in the Pencey cafeteria,
Mal, Ackley, and I enjoyed a winter afternoon on campus,
on the bus, and in a restaurant.
We walked across a puffy white quilt
as students conversed, laughed, and threw snowballs.
I held my snowball until the bus driver told me to leave it outside.
We had intended to see a comedy with Cary Grant,
but Mal and Ackley had already seen it.
We hung out in the restaurant played pinball and ate burgers.
Arriving back at our dorms at a quarter to nine,
Mel left for a bridge game
and Ackley shoved his acne ridden face into my pillow
until I told him I had a paper to write.
I couldn’t write what Stradlater wanted.
I couldn’t describe any rooms without elaborate furniture.
I couldn’t describe sporty rooms
with trophies on dressers and pennants on walls.
My brother Allie played baseball.
He wrote poetry on his catcher’s mitt with a green pen.
He stood in right field and recited verse from his imagination,
in his mind.
He died from leukemia very young.
I fell into a depression,
a garage,
a gym with windows to punch out.
I broke my hands against our station wagon’s windows.
I cannot make a tight fist.
I curl my fingers enough to type excerpts of Allie’s poetry
for a paper that will never be appreciated.
My red headed brother Allie,
such a good natured kid,
he had a good combination of extrovert and introvert,
avoiding anger.
Sitting on his bike fifty yards away
with his hair shining in the sun
as I teed off,
hoping to make a distant green and shoot under par.
Mom had scored a hole in one with him.
I still try to overcome unidentified handicaps
on a hazardous course.
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The darkness is coming
It’s coming for all of you
You can’t play from it, it will seek you out
The fiends translucent complexion, its skin is so thin
Thin enough that the black liquid within its veins are seeping out
Dripping to the corroded floor, eating straight through
It will sense your trepidation and drag itself and its blade to you
Consume your core and aura till all that’s left is forsaken fear
Wondering the darkness for eternity, becoming one of them
Then you will have maternity of the devil
Evil spewing from his heart, infecting his veins
He is coming for you
Breathing death and thriving on others fear
A walking dead and mere satanic existence
Hungry for human life form
Wandering decaying dorms which once served a purpose
The metal blade screams along the floor boards
Becoming the darkness, its in you
Insane deformed creatures conjured by blasphemer mentality
Wander this town, it’s corridors, walls with blood written notes
Screeching through twisted throats
This small world sitting in constant thick fog
What was once familiar is now stained with devils blood
You had better hide now
It’s coming for you, It’s ready to kill
Welcome to Silent Hill.
Form:
Ytb! Ytb! You understand we had a contract?
But what happened ytb?
You were such a savior to many,
A dream come true for many,
Why did you abandon us ytb?
We came to Turkey you were nowhere to be seen,
We thought you were busy but you are never free,
We looked for dormitories on our own,
Although you had promised to help,
The journey was like Winterfell at kings landing.
In the dorm, we meet angry and furious face,
You could think they were chasing dragons mother,
They gave us tea without sugar, cheese without bread,
We complained in murmuring voices like ants,
But they said “burasi turkiye”.
Ytb! Ytb! Why did you tell us before?
We went to the streets and avenues for fresh air,
But we meet, green, blue, red and brown eyes examiners,
Didn’t they ask how are u? No! No! they just asked,
Musluman misin? Nerelisin, turkiye neden geldi?
Of course, we didn’t have answers to that.
Ytb! Ytb! Our only pride was being at Tophane,
Where we meet a lovely lady called Gözde,
She was the only queen of the throne in our hearts,
She gave us hope, listening to us like john snows,
But we still waited to hear from you ytb.
The worst wasn’t over as soon as we left Tophane,
Be it in bus, train, or “vapur” we survived through suspicions,
Turkish men looked at us as if we were competitors in their small ecosystems,
They maneuvered like the Shannara chronicles with prying eyes,
Closing the gaps of their fangs as leopard crushing Zebras bones.
Ytb! Ytb! Did you know that the dorms we are leaving 4,5,6?
The smell, snoring and farting atmosphere creates ozone layers?
The “yurt mudurlar” are always praising how they offer world-class services?
Ytb! Ytb! What went wrong with “world-class experience” promises you gave us?
Anyway, we are still waiting for you our dear friends Ytb.
As I wrap up ytb, Istanbul is the best place to have your offices,
To help and motivate the “çocuklar” in our universities,
Don’t deny them Erasmus because Turkey is home to them,
And they want to visit abroad also,
Ytb! Ytb! Hope we understood each other.
Saturday nights I remember
were bad in September
even worse in November
On campus, roving mobs and gangs
looking for girls to get drunk and then bang
In dorms, wise fools dropping LSD
screaming, trying to deal with reality
Frat boys throwing furniture through window glass
Mooning, blowing farts, and lighting the gas...
College days: The 'best years of my life' these hardly were
~ On my generation and me, an ineradicable slur
Just in case you're wondering:
I attended Dartmouth College
in 'Hangover, NH' from 1968 -
1972... 6 years later, 'Animal
House' was filmed there, not
surprisingly.
The rented hall ways so surreal.
Cheerful alumnus ranting sex appeal.
Forgive my dropping a time bomb.
Taking Mother to the prom.
Our student body didn't shake.
All others escorted steady dates.
A proclivity prom, above all others.
Our band encrypted, "The Righteous Brothers".
Bobby Hatfield's introverted eyes, somehow.
Deeply scanned the milk punch bowl.
Imposter bandits, smuggled from Jersey.
Spiked the punch bowl, with laced heresy.
Setting alumnus minds; off and reeling.
We never, "Lost that Loving Feeling".
Alas, by now you must have guessed.
A convert Baptist to Catholic to Buddhist.
Thanked and Blessed.
Times worn quickly it seems.
I betrothed the crowned prom queen.
If begets lead to further begetting.
Trumpet in the table setting.
Now, before I forget to mention.
I'm Chief Commander of the United Nations.
The priestly Buddhist Monk is my adjunct.
No!!, pundits from paltry pulpits Shout.
No needed pouting, I'll get put out.
Covetous opponents horns, a' Blow-in.
I hold cards, but none are show-in.
That female candidate, can she insist.
A real, lopsided bubble purist.
Piling coals upon my trouble list.
She never, "Closes Her Eyes Anymore when Her Lips are Kissed".
Dear Jesus, may I adorn my Bobby Hatfield headphones.
Appreciating a, past on, baritones gigs.
Someone strummed an evil trick.
Thank You, for Your promised Rainbow.
One end of the spectrum, birth and mirth.
The other end death, it seems much worse.
"It Makes Me Just Feel Like Crying".
"You are My Soul and Highest My Highest Inspiration".
Pressure doesn't bother me at all.
What casts my craw into the fiery jowl.
How all my works got twisted.
As tho, I took your Mom to the prom.
Hoped betterment of bastion dorms.
Face radiance of holistic norms.
Is "Something Beautiful Dying".
Form:
In disingenuous defenseless dreams of the damned have wept
They awaken within sempiternal solitudes that they have slept
They're above all asseveration of tenacious tears they accept
For inside patricentric passage of time becomes illogically inept
The axiomatic assembly of manqué multitudes in pacifistic plight
Their damnation dorms of diversity desecrated upon a fatal finite
Humankind’s humility a harbinger of ritualistic recrudescent rite
And sorrowful sins syndicate with vigorous velocity and appetite
Their altruistic ambient soul tangled torn beyond comprehension
Desolate deprived within a deceitful delight of a demons detention
Isolated and audaciously abandoned onto the grasp of evil intention
May love levitate their tragic turmoil and align them with ascension.
March.28.2018
Triple-A Challenge
Sponsored by: Robert Haigh
Placed 9'th