Best Enroll Poems
A Poetry Souper, seeing bright stars,
Grabbed his PC and headed for Mars.
He’d make some dimes by writing rhymes,
Selling them to the New Mars Times.
Traveling through the ethereal blue,
With revved up rockets, his fervor grew.
Orbiting the moon to pick up speed,
He’d bust his buttons for this brave deed.
He saw fluffy clouds for God’s gentle feet,
And wondered if galaxies were places to meet.
He visualized skipping through outer space,
Dancing with angels, but couldn’t keep pace.
He thought of Mars, as candidly prime,
Poetry Soup’s outpost, so proudly sublime!
Thousands of Martians were quick to enroll,
Clamoring to setup new poetry goals.
Little red men, each sporting a grin,
Their three-fingered fisties bearing a pen.
Female Martians seemed to insist,
On whipping out sonnets with Shakespearian twists.
The red planet shining bright in the night,
Beckons to poets seeing its sight.
Schedule your flight, and do it right quick,
For poem palaver, it does a neat trick.
Tourist or Terrorist
Is your flight for fight or sight?
Naughty at night… lovely in light
Some thread to tend and some to twist!
Tourist or terrorists
Have you come to cleave or cage?
Are you here to enroll or enrage?
People like priests… I fear your fist.
Getting On Santa’s Naughty List
By Elton Camp
He makes a list and checks it twice
To find out who’s naughty or nice
“Tut, tut,” the old elf will chide
On finding something to deride
At the North Pole, he has Internet
Which gives a clearer picture yet
On the naughty list, Miley Cyrus to enroll
So she gets nothing but a stocking of coal
He sees you if you’re sleeping or awake
A peek at your Facebook page he may take
If bad he happens to see or to hear
You, too, on the naughty list appear
So be careful what you post on the Internet
Or a bad surprise at Christmas you may get
U~nbidden, the draft was upon me,
N~ewly turned from the halls of high school.
I~nspired by the Vets at the legion,
T~o enlist and become Uncle's tool.
E~xpecting to serve with distinction,
D~ogma served warm and fresh to a fool.
S~ent off as a man-child to Asia,
T~o enroll in a myopic war,
A~nd line pockets of war profiteers;
T~ransfer bleeding from wealthy to poor.
E~verything that I learned in that conflict
S~ent the message to soldier no more.
A~nd finding no reason for staying,
R~ealized that my motive and drive,
M~y labor was chosen to ensure
Y~oung soldiers would return home alive.
I died Because I Love You [Lyrics of Gospel Song]
You are the one who walks on water, you’re the one who raises the dead
The fact that you ever bother, leaves me so astounded.
My existence is not perfect, nor ever could it be.
Why you would ever bother, always amazes me.
Chorus
Lord, you hold me close so gently, when into your presence I come.
With love and compassion, your quiet whispers become,
“I died because I love you, and I’d do it all again.
I suffered so intently, at the hands of earth’s men.
I died because I love you, and I’d do it all again.
**********Yes, I died because I love you, and I’d do it all again!”***********
Those words always touch my heart, and truly heal my soul.
Just to know you love me, such love to grasp, enroll.
For I’m a wretched sinner, no greater wretch could be,
And yet, you said, “I died because I love you, I died on Calvary.”
My heart aches when I falter, because it’s you I disappoint.
But instead of a scolding, my forgiveness you appoint.
It’s because you love me, that I’ve grown to love you too.
And each time I hear you say those words, my love for you just grew.
© Copyright 2012 Maureen LeFanue
www.maureenlefanue.com
How Should I Pray, Lord?
How Should I Pray, Lord?
I need you to explain
‘Cause I’m not familiar with prayer;
It’s not been my past domain.
Do I just talk to you,
Or do you need some fancy words?
Should I sing to you instead,
With some accompanying chords?
How Should I Pray, Lord?
Is there a special time?
Can I talk to you anywhere?
Do you want my words to rhyme?
I can’t pray the fancy words
Of preachers from a pulpit.
I’m just a simple person,
With simple language to submit.
How Should I Pray, Lord?
Do I need a prayer shawl?
Because I’m a Christian,
Your gift of repentance I wish to enroll.
I ask your forgiveness
And mean it from my heart,
But I don’t know how to pray, Lord;
Your grace to impart.
How Should I Pray, Lord?
Please teach me today.
I am a complete novice
And need to know your way.
If I’m too familiar,
I ask your royal pardon.
How Should I Pray, Lord?
Teach me how to pray and petition.
© Copyright 2012 Maureen LeFanue
www.maureenlefanue.com
Saul & the Witch of Endor
“7 Saul then said to his attendants, “Find me a woman who is a medium, so I may go and inquire of her.” “There is one in Endor,” they said. 8 So Saul disguised himself, putting on other clothes, and at night he and two men went to the woman. “Consult a spirit for me,” he said, “and bring up for me the one I name.” 9 But the woman said to him, “Surely you know what Saul has done. He has cut off the mediums and spiritists from the land. Why have you set a trap for my life to bring about my death?” 10 Saul swore to her by the LORD, “As surely as the LORD lives, you will not be punished for this.” 11 Then the woman asked, “Whom shall I bring up for you?” “Bring up Samuel,” he said.” 1 Sam 28:7-11 NIV
King Saul sought a medium—
He totally rebelled against God above.
Consultations with mediums were banned,
In accordance with the God of love.
Rebellion to this instruction
Is still prevalent today;
Mediums and spirits are sought
To lead the unknowing astray.
There are many like the Witch of Endor
Communicating with evil angels.
Most portray themselves as benevolent
And helpful to earth’s rebels.
Do not be deceived my friend
For you are being mocked.
King Saul met his death the following day;
By evil he’d been trapped.
Spirit guides can speak truth
And quote the Bible too,
But they are rebellious to God;
Communication with them taboo.
Many are deceived these days,
Just as in the days gone by.
They fail to talk to the Lord,
But on evil angels prefer to rely.
Saul and the Witch of Endor
Is a perfect example of rebellion.
God told us not to talk to the dead;
To this command, He made no exception.
Evil spirits enter men and women,
And place them under their control.
God wants us to surrender to Him;
Through His Holy Spirit, His power to enroll.
© Copyright 2012 Maureen LeFanue
www.maureenlefanue.com
Go on, spoil me rotten
Wrap me in wooly cotton
Enroll me in a class
Where I’m taught the art of grass.
Like your food I always ate
Life is served up on a plate
Now I’m hard to satiate
And you’re the object of my hate.
CH
Give me what I want,
Give it to me now
If you won’t placate me
I take it anyhow
Give it, give it, give it,
Give it to me now,
If you won’t placate me
I take it anyhow.
Go on, spoil me rotten,
Until I’ve forgotten
How to live a decent life
Let alone attract a wife.
But, hey, I’m qualified
To tell lies of how I lied
It’s all music to her ears
It’s the truth mother fears.
CH
Go on, spoil me rotten,
I’m your misbegotten
Eighty pounds over weight
Got a job hauling freight
From Brazil to LA
Where my tic gave me away
To someone from the DEA…
My lawyer had a field day.
CH
I’m no longer spoiled rotten
I wear denim, not cotton
Can’t get hold of a fix
To ease these incessant tics.
I’ve lost weight and all hope
Clinging to an end of rope
Knowing now my selfishness
Was nurtured by your weakness.
Take what you want,
Take it off me now,
If it don’t placate you
I give it anyhow
Take it, take it, take it,
Take it off me now.
If it don’t placate you
I give it anyhow.
by Michaelw1two
My question, draws upon my emptiness,
withdrawn into an endless void in mind;
this presence’s gist, a thoughtless mist,
the future is obscure, and lost to what was mine;
eternity stalled, what does one mime,
will health be shorn, will soul be given time;
My question grows, does certainty exist,
that a wounded spirit does indeed so heal;
upon what promise does this thought persist,
will efforts made be futile, or become my daily meal;
alias this painful loneliness, my calm the fates resist,
what depth is reached within, time’s passing will reveal;
My question, remains unanswered, I call out to all,
does anyone care to answer, can anyone console;
these wounds to soul, this heart swallowed whole,
this flesh once strong, now weakening beyond control;
in human terms, with humane concerns, of human soul,
your thoughts I troll, your assistance, I enroll.
Apanthropinization n 1880 -1880
withdrawal from human concerns or the human world
Singing is Bi-polar.
Some songs sound like an aching molar
Packed with violence, hate and anger.
Other songs are sung to win him or her.
Soft sweet words that cause love to whir.
Passion packed with minds a blur,
Bi-polar songs make emotions stir.
Singing touches the soul.
Old love, new love, no love…take their toll.
A heartfelt song can break a man or make him whole.
Singing about God help’s reach Heaven’s goal.
Songs that strengthen fulfill that role.
Where Heaven’s gates need no bankroll.
Only pure hearts who found time to enroll.
Singing vociferously is fun.
Whether in the shade or in the sun,
It does not matter where it’s done.
I did it once where a spider spun.
My woodland tune like opera sung
Brought birds to listen one by one.
A peacock’s courtship I once won.
Personal singing is not just for a bird.
They chirp all day singing no word.
Like man, they tweet when love is stirred.
Then comes the rooster; someone is spurred.
Anhingas sing; blurred tunes…absurd!
Meanwhile the raven’s voice is heard.
Why are they singing; we’re all bestirred!
Copyright January 14, 2014
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: Three or More Stanzas, Three or More
Thoughts on the Same Idea
Sponsored by: Sheri Fresonke Harper
"Mothers can be scornful at times it may seem."
They shoulder much tenacity under watchful eye.
Contempt may enroll in your mind, as you cry.
Though behind those evil looks, a heartfelt gleam.
You may never know it for you, she has a dream.
She can urge you with a powerful hand by and by.
Not maybe with a powerful force, but oh so sly.
She seems to have such an overwhelming regime.
Mothers’ affections go beyond the natural bond.
Beyond this universe, more glorious than any star,
Her emotions run deep and will never correspond.
They shall forever caress and bandage any scar.
Repeatedly she will garnish while waving a wand.
Upon her last breath she shall forgive, unlike any czar.
written for
Sponsor ~ A Rambling Poet ~
Contest Name 'Mother'
written by
Cecil Hickman
It was twilight and in the purple mist the fog was dense.
She shook her head as if that would clear the cobwebs.
No secret society here, pinning her down with rules,
just her and her pain and self incriminating discipline.
She knew something had to change and the thing was her.
Tired of being hit on, struck out, toe to toe, and lied to,
it seemed the world, a round room and she the chicken.
She felt chased, with no corner to stop in to make a decision.
It was like the parable of the good Samaritan- - without him.
So, when this extremely handsome dude started the hit
she cut him down at the knees, as she said with a grin.
Oh, I get off at one thirty, but I leave work about twelve.
My honey is waitin’ for me and me alone, sittin’ on ready.
Maybe you could come and watch my babies while we- - - - - !
Hush your mouth, trash, you got no cause actin’ like that.
Maybe I don’t honey, but it sure saved me thirty minutes
of dodging the bullets and making you madder than now.
Fact- - - you just made up my mind and I am glad to say,
that I am going to enroll in that new beauty college.
So in a few weeks when you feel you need some trim,
come on down and let me fix you up, with the style.
Might not be the kind you are looking for tonight, but,
honey that is all you are going to get from little ole me.
Lawdy miss Claudie, I think I have finally set my self free.
for Judy Konos "Monopoly--the game of life contest"
© May 2011 cgh
I'm lean, I'm mean, I'm tough as nails
Nothing could frighten me
I'm ready to defend my turf
as you can plainly see
Ju-Jitsu man, master of knife and sword,
Can shoot an eye out at a mile...
No fool would be so foolish
as to dare challenge me...
You see before he'd even know it,
I'd break his stupid knee
No Superman or Batman
Would dare to take on me
But, well, Mighty Mouse, that's another story,
Which leads us to our yarn..
But first let me emphasize
I am mighty, mighty macho
I'll never suffer hurt
I'm such a mighty he-man,
Even when I wear a skirt!
As Ive shown, I've always rules
My kingdom is my house
Until one winter's day
When I was attacked by a tiny mouse!
He scurried out from beneath the sink
and caught me by surprise,
That dastardly little bully!!
Just what did he thinK?
I saw bloodthirsty menace in his eyes..
I jumped up on the table
knew not if i should have fled
The frightful thought then came to me
What if now he's in my bed??
So I shored up my fading courage
Went to enroll in Mouse Martial Arts
I'll get that little bast_rd..
Before he terrifies more hearts
So when i graduated,
back to home I went
Helmet,armor, side-arms, baseball bat,
and mace and gas-mask too...
I knew I was now prepared,
For whatever he may do!
I searched the house that evening,
But find him i could not...
Now worried he went for friends...
that evil little snot!!
500 mose-traps I then set
Comforted, so off to bed I went
Woke up from a bad mouse-dream,
in the middle of the night,
To the bathroom i had to go
My bladder told me so,
Now if you can imagine
Being caught in 50 traps
Then you may envision
What was about to elapse...
Oww!Oww!Oww!, Oh, Mercy Me! is what I cried!
As mouse traps snapped right and left
My poor old bludgeoned feet!
Paid the price for my stupidity
And not being at all too deft!
I pee'd myself in pain,
It flowed from me like rain!
Luckily in spite of many a hurtful trap,
my pants I did not crap!
So let this be a lesson,
If a mouse wants to live with you,
Just choke down on your pride...
"Cause there's nothing you can do!!!
Dear Dad dear mum, I take this time
Writing my letter now, to thank all of you
For your own maximum, support and care
No one knows how, you loved and cared
Forty K you sent, to buy the charter
Fifteen thousand you sent, for VC’s upkeep
For instagram to buy, you sent twelve K
No one knows how, you loved and cared
Higher education loan, ten K to purchase
Mandatory for comrades, a basic necessity
The graduation square, you sent thirteen K
No one knows how, you loved and cared
Thirteen K you sent, as odd unquestionable
Forty K you sent, so high and reasonable
Hundreds of cash, familiar for granted
No one knows how, you loved and cared
My graduation is done, ready for second degree
To enroll am ready, your children must learn
My enrolment my job, my mother employ
No one knows how, you loved and cared
At last I expect, to purchase a Facebook
Twitter and email, philosophy and psychology
The money for faculty, mess and deferment
Sent that my dad, and mum you care
I have goals, I plan to enroll in a community college. Get an associates degree in graphic
design. I plan to write a couple books. I have a few novels in my head. I love music still,
singing, dancing - I can do it all. I'm silly, funny, morbid, you can tell in my slams.
Now I've flirted with women on this site - I'm single, and yes I would love to find love. I
thought I found it, but it slipped away. I do not "prey" on women. I would love to have a
good strong woman in my life. That's why I've asked a couple to correspond via postal mail -
as friends first to get to know me.
Soupers my times almost done. I should not be prejudged or discriminated against!
P.D., Nathan, SKAT I am sorry for the slams. I guess I pushed your buttons where you guys
would want to gossip about me, Ain't no other reasons. But I have nothing to hide. I'm as
real as they get!
I have not asked any women on this site for anything (unless they are my genuine friend,
and a great friendship was already established.) If "preying" on women for friendship, pen-
pals, possibly love, then I'm guilty!
Some of you soupers are on my facebook! Carolyn Devonshire is like my big sister.
Audrey Carey is my dearest friend, whom I love, and no we are not an item. Marty Owens is
a dad I never had. Laura McKenzie, BillytheKidster, Bob Hinshaw (I have good friends here
on the soup). And I want more good people in my life.
SKAT was a great friend. We collaborated on a great poem, so what happened? Hmmm..
Well I love you guys man. The soup rocks, soon I'll be behind a PC screen and chat,
webcam you guys - It will be cool anyone wishing to write please do so (And Nathan, I'm not
going anywhere;))
Peace and love "The Poetic Warlock"
Jimmy M. Anderson #0459587
P.O.Box 2405
Marion NC 28752