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The Best Dropping Like Flies Poems

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Love is my favorite game.
I love to play along.
As silver threads weave
their way thru my soul.
Memories of futures past.
Echoing across the land.
Years started to drift on by.
Losing loved ones dropping like flies.
As the sun slips below the skies.
All I wanna do is cry.
Run away and hide.
Then all doubts of you leaving drift away.
As I was mystified listening to the whispers on the wind.

9/ 10/ 2015

Copyright © Debbie Duncan | Year Posted 2015

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The Definition of Innocence part 2

(continued from part 1)

What is innocence
that little boy
whose pulling his toy 
with it’s broken wheel
Do you think he doesn’t know that the price of that crack needle
Could buy him a meal?
Do you think he doesn’t,  know 
that that beer bottle
Is why he bares the bruises on his skin
Is it why he has to force himself to grin?
Is that little girl sitting with her perfectly coifed dolls 
Singing to herself so she doesn’t hear the screams
Doesn’t she scream in terror
as her father bursts into her dreams.
And shoves her mom crashing into her little table.
Does she have to dream, to live her fable
And even then, 
is she able?
Do you wonder what she is thinking 
as she struggles to push the head back on her doll
or is it a way for her to merely,  ignore it all
Are you watching with 20 million other viewers 
A drone in your living room, a slave to a box
A fly in a web of airwaves 
Do you think your government is doing the same 
Or are they filling up
is there an agenda being played 
as our minds are swayed
Is this distraction as innocent as it seems?
And that epidemic….An epidemic of having too much food
Begging someone please!
stop us from eating I cant see,
my knees
like it’s the bubonic plague
like we’re dropping like flies
An epidemic!
Could we build a memorial and carve on its stone
5 million died this year
from an this epidemic  alone
we could… if we replaced obesity  with
Is it ironic that the fat kids stomach looks just as big 
as the starving ones.
What is innocence
Is a boy who just wants to spend time with his grandpa
He doesn’t understand
As his grandpa takes him by the,  hand
And leads into the bathroom
To show him the darker side of man
That in that moment he’ll have to grow up
Faster then he planned
Faster then he can
What is innocence
Does it exist in this land
From the time were born
We stripped down, bought and torn
From violence to ****
We’re watched and mimicked 
Our lives just a gimmick 
To get in our little kids heads 
Where innocence treads
To take away their bliss
The only thing that they were born,  with
What is innocence
Does it exist anymore
Or in this day and age 
Have we closed that door
Forever more?

Copyright © Jeremy Moore | Year Posted 2011

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An idiom for you
An idiom for me
It’s just an expression,
a message, you see.

Silence is golden.
Trouble comes in three.
Each to his own taste.
The powers that be.

A rock and a hard place.
Bat out of Hell.
A pig in the poke.
The day will tell.

Pedal to the metal.
Pie in the sky.
Over the top.
Apple of my eye.

Pictures paint a thousand words.
They are dropping like flies.
Put your thinking cap on.
Pull the wool over his eyes

Now, I have shed
some knowledge here for all.
Go learn some more idioms and
have yourself a ball!

Copyright © Michael Degenhardt | Year Posted 2008

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My Idiom Oneliners Part 2

I noticed that the grass was always greener on the other side, as I made my way to the 18th hole and practiced my drive.

As I zip lined across with the greatest of ease, I finally noticed for the first time the forest for the trees.

That evening I again had to face the music, with baton in hand I tried not to lose it.

If my cat really has nine lives, why is he still roadkill up on the drive?

I finally threw in the towel as my washing machine let out a hungry growl.

I'd finally become a basket case as I stood before the judge with a can of mace.

We were all in the same boat, trying not to resort to cannibalism and to stay afloat.

I bit off more than I could chew, realizing this after the eating contest as I hurled and puked.

Before they went down the skiing slope, I told them to break a leg like a mindless dope.

The other day I finally went out on a limb, all the while thanking God I am pretty slim.

Haste makes waste unless you procrastinate.

They told me to keep my chin up or the the wound like a volcano would erupt.

Once more I knocked on wood, reading the "doorbell out of order" sign where I stood.

My parents always told me I had a one track mind, as I walked along the railroad tracks and read the railroad station sign.

They started dropping like flies having ignored the no fly zone sign.

Copyright © cheryl hoffman | Year Posted 2016

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I took a rich man’s wallet
So that we would not starve
I’m sure the lord has forgiven me
But the judge he surely did not.
He spared me from the gallows
But sent me across the sea
Away from family and friends
And away from you sweet Molly
I could see you standing on the dock in the rain
As the ship lurched out in the mist
And I wondered sweet Molly would I ever again
Hear your laughter or feel your sweet kiss.
Well terrible fortune befell us
On that awful disease ridden ship
And brutes were the crew and the guards
Who beat us with fists and with whip.
And the wind howled and the seas rose
And many were washed overboard
And illness, storms and starvation
Were sent upon us by the lord
And gradually everyone perished
But somehow I seemed to survive
Until somehow I made it to Botany Bay
The only soul left alive.
I joined a prison gang Molly
And hard to work we went
They gave me a chisel and barrow 
And told me to go and carve steps
From a mountain made out of rock
On a path that led to nowhere.
No food or drink did they give us
I feel that they wished we would die
Well their wish came true sweet Molly 
As the men started dropping like flies.
The sun burned my face and my arms
As I hammered away at the stone
And when the rains finally came
They soaked us through to our bones
Then a flash flood swept the others away
And left me there all on my own.
Well my life was hard to be sure 
But again I seemed to survive
And I finally made it back to the camp
The only soul left alive.
They all were surprised to see me 
They clapped my back and shook my hand 
They said we must throw a party
For the luckiest man in the land
Well a grand party it was
Under a night of starry skies
The officers all were so drunk
That they started dropping like flies
And in the morning the soldiers found me grinning
Twenty dead officers, two blood stained knives.
Holy Christ said the men as they clapped me in irons
He’s the only soul left alive!
So now I finally face the gallows Molly
And there are no more lies left for me
What I couldn’t eat of the men on the ship
I threw the remains to the sea
What I couldn’t eat of the men on the mountain
I buried among the trees
The drunken officers deserved all they got
So Molly my conscience is clear.
My only regret dear Molly
The only thing that causes me pain
Is knowing that I shall never
See your sweet face again.

Copyright © Bryn Roberts | Year Posted 2015

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An Economy To Die For

The economy that exists today,

invites the Grim Reaper to have its way

with our minds and emotions,

even through our tenacity and devotions,

the doldrums set in, encouraging,

negative patterns of melancholia, sickness

and sin........

An economy that has forced its residents

to unleash wrath upon themselves, through

warped psyches and ill health,

People are dropping like flies and no one seems

to hear their cries,

Life continues to move at warped speeds, while

people become casualties of a tragic economy.

Copyright © Margeret Bailey | Year Posted 2012

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Dumbing Down Of The USA

Summer hath come, May blocked the sun, son, yet I know you read this Jedi 
Airwaves reek of radiation, reverberation stagnant holds no key.
Here we, hear yee, Kings of Alchemy 
everyday, every way, mopping floors like janitors, scientists of style, fluidity.

Yet, have you ever seen "Good Will Hunting?" "How do ya' like 'dem apples!?!"
Faces fraught with pale, we do not understand or yet fully comprehend what it 
is being accomplished here.
Still, week after week, we build this small community of ambition through 
attrition. We pour out our souls...FOR WHAT? Bickering in this pan, flash 
flooding through months supposedly in a drought. But, FOR WHAT"S IT ALL 
ABOUT. (or Aboot, for my Canadian brother's and sisters)

I give thanks for your interaction, but will not accept judgment of the few. In 
fact, purists, I will address you too, by flying high my middle finger, resisting 
the itch to even edit this "worthless excuse for a poem". But I know better 
than to pester you much more than that. For I too, need readers, and you're 
dropping like flies in protest. Still I say: "You're pissed off, it sure beats 
getting pissed on!"  Perhaps the world really fades to black when everyone 
stops talking of you.

There is not much I believe in firmly as the Universe/Multiverse is a million 
white canvases. But I, and I do mean butt-eye believe we are waking up. My 
duty involves elimination of the snooze button. If wishes were coffee, I'd stir 
the world hot, and see that cups overflow with pure energy. The black veil 
over our many nations needs lifted, and it's gonna take full concentration, 
positive motivation, and quite possibly myriads meditating.

 Amen brothers and sisters! 
If this piece doesn't resonate, I recommend one week off from television and 
or video games to improve clarity. Light becomes clear when dimming what's 
dumbing you down.

Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO | Year Posted 2014

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how it feels to be stalked by a serial killer and have no one care

how many people in your life that have been murdered?
probably none
my grandfather was a war herp
coma tosed
to have his wife a cripple
so i could run away scrambling from bs people for the rest of my life

11 tragic deaths in my life,
my family and friends
and their family and friends dropping like flies

the bills sent for the ambulance ride
leave me wondering why did you even bother come
to pretend to save my life
to wake me up and send me out the door
without being able to thank the people who just kept me alive

4 suicides, and im the lucky one to survive mine
4 murders have taken place in my life
and three tragic accidents

i have no idea what it would belike to see my family smile
theyre all dead

nothing but bs people come to watch me cry
who dont know who i am
never talk to me
and have no time for someone like me

off i go back to the hospital for more poison
and brag about malpractice
my stomache that cant digest any thing without pain or discomfort
but hey off your meds i can finally achieve an ********

love music by the way
the terrorist psychological attack with my name on it
offering me reason after reason to cry
what do i need another excuse to hate you

the politicians i cant contact
the police force harassing me
breaking my door down to ransack
stalking me to hand out tickets
breaking my nose afer a hostage situation

and its the bs people who tell me 
trying to kill myself was the right thing

the military doesn't care
but make things happen over night

love watching you walk around in your underwear
at my pity party to be happy for you
but im not
im jealous
i hate you for it

your bs people
like these poetry sites with no clue
nice poem huh?

what a read....

go die
maybe after i get crippled they will have the heart to shoot me
but i doubt it
been raped, and tortured, and drugged, and beat by police, and held hostage
to be cyber stalked and have my accounts compromised
off and on and off and on
for 13 years

go kill yourself
war pig loser nation

what do you want me to say?
i know why people drop bombs now
i truly do

put me in a tank
and suck my d ick
existance is my enemy anyway
i hope he quits bothering to live

screw you face book
and twitter is a terrorist organisation
go ask microsoft

Copyright © Troy Jeremy Nelson | Year Posted 2011

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Her ruby Eye and her liquor shots
Medusa casting her spells all over the land
men are dropping like flies 
in a shipwrecked of her lies
Medusa sings on high and on low 
hearing winds blow as so goes fighting the night
when men sleep
she seeks to take on her attack 
like a thief in the shadows of night
Her soul is cold like ice
She is designed with clutching gamed 
controlling is all she knows
She is so protagonist 
Her story that never ends to man
She has a body of a goddess 
those he is a goddess to week men 
she is a Pit of lies
she holds in her eyes that burns day and night
Medusa is a darken goddess of stone 
she stands alone on her sexual thrown 
to take this dark world on that she holds
I watch the captain of our ship locking at his clock
before our ship gone down 
dead men's hands clutch why Medusa sinks the ship 
She is the Venus in her lovers eyes 
that looks upon her beauty in her eyes 
this old darken world craves the need to find her
They all should had known not to look at her
never look in her eyes she will cast you to stone
her glare kills what is near
You will be curse for life in death 
if you look upon ruby eyes 
she will cast her spell and make you stone
people that had heard of her story 
the raft of the Medusa with the snake hair 
will cast her poison everywhere 
who dears to drawn near 
Throughout the house of stone 
she walks to look who has come near
her eyes looking upon her tron
with thunder everywhere she roams 
A dirty dire reversion they all felt 
in her eyes they lie with a deep pleasure 
makes men crave her 
there heart melt for her sexuality 
The waters below all around her home
is where her lovers will roam 
lover of lust will turn to stone 
that is the way this story goes.

Poetic Judy Emery

Copyright © Judy Emery | Year Posted 2017

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Tell the truth and TESTIFY...with a heart full of hell and a head full of homocide
Backs against the wall by the lord of lies
the weak and the strong keep dropping like flies
Beelzebub is always on the fall and on the rise
Steel claws like a cat tear through another disguise
The judge and the jury stay shocked and surprized
Tell the truth and TESTIFY

Tell the truth and TESTIFY...tell the tale of victory to a billion ears and eyes
Smiles and frowns to screams and whispers
The raw truth always burns and blisters
Still the truth sets us free
Darkness and disease runs and flees
Paranoia pleas for another madness moment
Sitting in shadows now under the spotlight the insane and the ill try to get high
Erradicated with ease now the demonic die
Tell the truth and TESTIFY

Tell the truth and the middle of a billion liars called legion
Still truth is taking every house,block,city,state,and region
Around every corner there's a madness maze
Fight or flight it's just a phase
Now truth takes the stage like a fiery force
Like a big battle horse on heavy metal hooves
Blasting the sonic boom from the tops of rooves to a blood red moon
Where eagles and angels soar and fly
Fools and fiends ask why?
Tell the truth and TESTIFY

Copyright © anthony beesley | Year Posted 2011

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Heaven's Waiting Room

In our great little retirement community They're dropping like flies around me Need to break free, must get out this place It's Heaven's Waiting Room you see Don't matter if you're healthy as all get out The grim reaper knows where you live He's as anxious as hell to whisk you away And you really have just one life to give So ignore the guy that's waiting at the door Do all the things you've always wanted Relentlessly time keeps marching forward It's progress remains undaunted Keep ahead of the game, of that final day Laugh at that guy with the sickle Tell him you'll call when your good and ready This existence can be oh so fickle © Jack Ellison 2013

Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2013

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yellow ribbon: in memoriam

pause for a moment of silence
before continuing your day
to bless your lucky stars
that you were born within these 
which increase every day their campaign
to keep others out or to send those back
whom have established families & 
some for nearly two decades.

in the same breath we so easily 
that this country was built on the labor produced by a
steady flow of 
immigrants who came here willingly &
by slaves who were dragged here 
against their will
to help the white men who successfully fled
taxation in one empire
to come here, kill off the native population as 
best as they could
& establish a new empire
(even more powerful than the one that they 
in order to fill their pockets,
passing their indestructible wealth down the
line of their descendents for centuries to come.

after plowing down all in their paths in order to
make it to the other coast of this new found
cash cow---
leaving nothing but blankets bearing small pox,
dead buffalo & dead native americans all along the
the empire found need to expand beyond our borders
& to confiscate all the resources that they could---
over land & all bodies of water
they trudged on,
speaking loudly
& carrying a big big stick
slamming it down upon the heads of all who 
resisted---as well as those that didn’t.

so while we still exist in this dwindling american
age---with china just over the horizon
ready to take up the reins,
it seems appropriate to close our disgusting
first world, celebrity worshipping, fashion 
fanatical, complacent, increasingly illiterate, 
& sedentary 
and to remember the stolen lives of the
(whose number is always kept from 
us---always estimated & scant at best)---
those that once resided in 
the countries with whom we have most recently
been slamming the empire’s billy club down upon,
tirelessly & without any notion that an end of our
torturous beating frenzy
is in the near future.

tie a yellow ribbon
round that tree
for the
125,421 &
Iraqi civilians who have been killed so far,
as a result of the united states invasion “beginning” in

tie another for those
dropping like flies in our new
anywhere between 9,000 & 
27,000 are supposed to have been
killed so far, in the current
Afghanistan debacle.  

in this century, if you are a 
best to invest in yellow ribbon,
it is most certainly a safe bet.  

Copyright © andrew delapruch | Year Posted 2011

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It's A Crying Shame

George Washington would never believe it and call it a crying shame. I have observed the prohibition of prayer in public schools. Free speech is not free but is for sale to the highest bidder. Moreover, there is an attitudinal atmosphere suggesting that any speech that is not my own should be abridged, censured, or abolished. Traditional norms and family values are dropping like flies under the spell of pesticides. The Bible is considered to be narrow-minded hate-speech. I have seen people terrorized, their civil rights decertified and denied. Moral values have been devalued, set aside, and liquidized; Constitutional rights are diluted, disputed, and no longer solidified. Whatever happened to the great 'thinkers'?  I have noticed the terminal illness and demise of noble ideas. Education is being replaced with political persuasion and propaganda.                                                                           

Abraham Lincoln would never accept it and call it a crying shame. Minority rights are being revised, realigned, reassigned, and redefined. I have witnessed human rights ignored, disregarded, and not prioritized. The cultural revolution is forging ahead in jet-propulsion speed like there is no tomorrow nor time of reckoning. Belief in evolution is man's best hope for a future without accountability. There are no absolutes nor need for resolution. Majority rights are brought into question, unguaranteed, and in retreat. Equal rights are desired but unclarified, undefined, and unobtained. I have beheld the orchestrated disappearance of common sense, and before long we shall be worry-free because 'Big Brother' will always come to our defense. Alien rights are well protected, highly promoted, and unwisely provided. There is a free admittance of subjectivity and the utter rejection of objectivity. I started to weep when I realized that sanity is being burned at the stake. I'm hoping and praying that we return to our senses before it's too late.                                                           

07062018PoSoupContest, Personal Favorite Poem Written In 2018 Poetry 
Sponsored by: Carolyn Devonshire, 5P

Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2018

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Where It Leads I

Where it Leads

Chaotic arrangement of words
beaten with the mind
fall into place as tetris blocks
where it leads none may know
ready to organize a show
unveil the curtains
open the window, let the breeze
carry your blind mind to see
in darkness, light light dispersing
into heavy sounds, binds your attention
seek redemption, sheathe your skin
come on in and split the atom
fathom while the phantom haunts
a dream dreamt long ago

Does anyone wants to see death
creeping as a shadow ready to strike
bodies full of life dropping like flies
the Machine of War is hungry
go ahead, feed it, feel its mechanical wheels turning
longing for more, death is greedy in the hands
of men who desire to be consumed by the fire
of greed and consumption, who are we to make
the foolish assumption: "All will change in time"
A bomb ready to implode and traumatize
as the wise remain silent, the violent rush
waiting to crush the fools allowing themselves
to be used as tools

Steer me away from things to come
what's done is done, let me feel the sun
let me run from the sum of my mistakes
raise the stakes as the world around me breaks
Well then, middle finger to you too kind sir
don't worry, I shan't stir your harmony
by all means, go ahead, lay your head down
and sleep, oh, just don't wake up and all is fine
I shall toast with wine and have a laugh
as others whom 'loved' you whine at my foolhardiness

Take a metaphorical gun and blow away your mind
watch brain matter splatter on the walls, try to realize
that the way you analyze leads to the demise
of a sun that's about to rise and wake you up
to a reality you've always longed for deep within
That little music box playing the same tune in your mind
that itch under your skin that won't go away
when the promise of a new day may or may not lead you astray
It really isn't hard, in fact enlightenment awaits
those whom are ready to pass beyond the gates of their own mind
those whom don't mind the walls crumbling, ready to find
a different kind of bind with the human intellect

Copyright © Lehel Lorant Kiss | Year Posted 2013

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This Life is Just Not For Me

Laying here beneath a ceiling made of leaves
Ringing in my ears breathe the words
“Sway, sway
Put on your fancy clothes” 
Motivation to get out of bed and go
A warning to evade succumbing 
to the poisons I left sitting in my drawer
a collection of thoughts
left as caterpillars in jars
hoping without oxygen they'd die off
leaving me be, leaving me full of positivity
but fully fledged butterflies they sprouted
breaking from their container
covering me, a butterfly cocoon
Will they eat me alive or are they only here to soothe me to sleep
calm me down, to tell me everything will be alright
I'd never thought at 23 I'd ever say these words again like I was 8 years old again
It's not like I haven't seen her in years
I saw her months ago but still I must admit
I miss my mom
Not because she keeps my head on straight
Not because she makes me laugh
Not because of any sort of reason
Simply I just miss my mom
I'm not cut out for this
Patiently waiting for someone to give me an opportunity to show my worth
to prove to strangers I don't know
who'd stab me in the back at a moment's notice
that I'm not a screw up, that I am capable working an 8 hour shift for a paycheck
worthy of my time
but is this all worth my time
If only I knew what I want to do with my life
I have so many ideas, yet too many options
all requiring further schooling
though I refuse to let school rob me of any more years from me
I refuse to let school rob me of anything else
I refuse to let school or some measly slip of paper define who I am
If you completed college, congratulations
I'm genuinely proud of you but it's just not for me
That's the problem, too much is not for me
Everyone is trying to integrate me into their systems, into their curriculum if you will
dragging me by the hand, screaming at me to conform
telling me their exploits of how they did it their way
while I keep screaming at the top of my lungs
so somebody who understands me 
can finally hear me when I say
Your way in every obvious word I can speak
does not benefit me
Why, why you ask, am I in such a hurry
Why, why you ask, do I have such tunnel vision
Why, why you ask, is my vision so blurry
Simple, I am afraid of my own mortality
I'm afraid of mortality
In the town I live, in the world we live in
Everyone is dropping like flies
One more day passes, another person is born
While at least those that you know of 5 more leave the world
Young and old alike
Nature does not wait for anyone
Nature does not have favorites
Nature does not have a heart sometimes
So it does not have a favorite in me
So nature doesn't have an ounce of favor in me
As a boy who longs to be immortal so I won't have to fear this any longer
I know more than anyone or at least I believe it so
how precious life can be
I've never done anything in mine save for a few
to spend it like everything in it is worthwhile
All it's been used for is telegraphing itself
a postcard to all who can listen
I'm forever miserable, on a path to be happy
though no matter how many steps I take
to reach that peak once again
the brakes screech to a halt
I've hit a roadblock again
unable to move this wall in my path
the wall in my path now is the hiring process
You can say I'm overreacting
You can say I'm foolish and to get over myself
This is what it means to be an adult
This is what it means to grow up
To you I say, did you not hear me before
Your way benefits me not
so here, take this cot, sleep next to me
take a peek into my dreams
know what it's like to be me
Know what it's like to never fit in
Know what it's like to find somewhere you feel you can breathe
Maybe find some peace
and then say with confidence
“This life is just not for me”

Copyright © Crow thepoet | Year Posted 2018