Best Exploiting Poems
THE ADVENTURE, HER
Eyes
Deep, shimmering pools
Drowning fevered fools
Voice
Feigning tenderness, tragic
Whispered, lilting magic
Scent
Je Reviens enchanting
Left shamelessly panting
Hair
Bouncing raven tresses
Velvety elucidated guesses
Smile
Sparkling white gradients
Breath-stealing bright radiance
Lips
Succulent raspberry fruit
Passion's delicious route
Shape
Form-filling voluptuous esses
Curvaceously exploiting dresses
Skin
Satiny cappuccino wrapping
Exploring fingers, mapping
Taste
Tippy-top to feet
Nectarous, tangy, sweet
Whole Package
Symmetry imperfectly perfected
Entirely painstakingly inspected
Plan
Moonlight eventide, upended
Enjoyment, dishonorably intended
Result
Personal intentions, punted
"Hunter" becomes "Hunted"
Afterglow
Her sensual surprise =
My satiated eyes.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Six-Word Couplet Series Encore" Poetry Contest, Mark Toney, Judge & Sponsor.
all governments
are corrupted in some way,
exploiting the delivery of storks
that baby-boomers like to think are
precious gifts, but we are dropped bombs
to make this s***-hole new, paint it blue, not
for boys, but for our united sorrow, yet we
will still not give this stolen land that toiled
name like you do. we will paint it pink, not for
girls, but for the faded fire, bright and not
upon a spectrum, because we will not
put stickers on specks in an infinite
cycle, because we are just dots
of destined waste, longing
to get along
I fear people have lost their way,
hatred and lies now rule their day;
for morals faded over time.
Purchasing political will,
Big business is pardoned to kill
and perpetuate fear through crime.
Politicians kneel down to God,
and yet, their devotion's a fraud.
For some, faith is but a pastime,
a mockery of true belief.
Exploiting people's pain and grief,
greed fuels anxiety's climb.
Alternative truths are just lies—
merely bigotry in disguise.
"Love thy neighbor" was God's decree,
not "manipulate them with fear."
Such behavior warrants a tear,
and I believe God would agree.
And yet evangelists meanwhile
preach that immigrants are hostile.
Heaven's gate is locked; love's the key,
and no other will get you through.
Come judgment day, God will judge you;
that’s Jesus's Divine decree.
Hard edged (unreality) you face away from my immediacy (candour eschewing) inimically you parody, offering as nice the complexity of ''vice''exploiting even nature
(as voyeur and narrator) your intention anethema to the nations,
as you coerce ''your creation'' encouraging over consumption,
with a hard nosed gumption, yet my God who is greater
is no longer willing to be a waiter!sickle in hand he is walking his land,
with the sun as his shadow is this (One)
to be Hallowed..!
Mute
but immutable.
Unmoving, unmoveable;
timeless, yet tireless.
Solitary stalwart sentinel
surveils undulating horizon.
Aberrant, achromatic clouds
pock-mark the skies, as distant
rumblings herald his adversary's
latest gambit in their age-old conflict.
The wrath of a thousand crashing,
clashing, thrashing fists batter
against the beleaguered sentry.
Ceaselessly, remorselessly,
the maelstrom assails him.
But the foundations are firm and
noble gatekeeper stands steadfast.
Single-minded of purpose, placid
custodian morphs into combatant as
his luminous, voluminous blade carves
luminescent arcs through chthonic cloak.
Tenebrous tendrils wither and dissipate,
impotent under intense lambent onslaught.
His victory is only fleeting, as vanquished
foes are summarily supplanted by more of
their ilk in a seemingly continual surge.
Again and again, over and over, tormentor
presses the attack, exploiting any weakness.
Over and over, again and again, valiant warden
repels the barrage and despatches his enemies.
And so the pattern repeats endlessly, unabated,
as these eternal opponents jostle for position
in a perpetual cycle of aggression and defence.
Until eventually, finally, ultimately, the stale-mate
is broken; when Tempest's tantrum is tamed and
Blizzard's battalions have been banished, all is calm.
Tranquillity is able to reassert herself and order has
finally been restored; at least for the foreseeable future.
Obligations fulfilled, the triumphant Guardian can now rest.
Until the need arises again, until he's called upon once more,
he will wait patiently, watch diligently, in unflagging vigilance.
Forever resolute, a beacon of sanctuary, a symbol of hope, his is a
thankless task, but the Protector of Mariners will always be needed.
-----------------------------------
(C) John C Michaels, 27 July 2017
For Eve Roper's "Lighthouse" Contest.
(1st Place)
Pain is just another form of medication, feeding the demons that nest inside.
A temporary fix, a band aid per say, covering the secrets I am trying to hide.
I am like the right hand to the devil, with the ability to manipulate others thoughts and emotions. Exploiting there fears, insecurities and dreams, I can flip in a split second, merely to show my complete and utter devotion.
My eyes and ears are magnified by ten, a gift to some but a burden to me. I close my eyes to try and escape for a brief moment just to feel free.
Intrigued by the sharp edges of a blade, and the power that it contains. Just a simple brush across my skin, paints a beautiful portrait of red, dripping like falling drops of rain.
I hurt myself on the outside to kill the evil that lives within. I'ts relief flowing through my veins, with a rush of instant gratification to make me grin.
The truth to any story always has an open window, it will sneak it's way through. The eyes can be read like a paper back novel, every word, every image, a tragedy but true.
I'm always aware of my situation and my surroundings, even though it appears I am not paying attention. I see all, I hear all, studying anyone and everyone requires my full concentration.
Fantasying about death and the peace it brings, oddly is what makes me smile. To finally put an end to my journey in hell, only keeps me in denial.
Overwhelmed with exhaustion at the end of everyday, I lay my head to rest. I think to myself that maybe someday, I will finally pass life's test.
This country United
one can clearly see
only blind hide in truth
Illegally a government seizes power
against the vote with a clear strike
Overthrowing moral grounds
At which point do we say enough
Their soul aim to enforce ill will
against good standing people
It's a mutiny against freedom of choice
using it to kill babies
Exploiting our democracy fact
You bloodless hounds without spines
are only in it for the money
Crawling vermin hidden underneath the table
Fighting for scraps sick agendas
I am a son of David from the clans of ulster
As state assets are freely given away
Without consent their should be a public outcry
Democratic Republic sits on the right side
All the left wing who will hang this nation
Out to dry as they rob ores
from underneath our feets destroying our land
with your greed creating poverty
Selling away our basic rights and commodities
sick reality without virtues
To gain their thirty pieces
We need to stand and defend our constitution
for our children's sake and their dowry
As they sign the pact
One which will weight
heavy on their souls as we are raped
continuesly of our sovereignty
Human rights ignored for no good reason
enough is enough I have a voice
any laws passed by this circus
Undemocraticly elected government
Is not backed or passed by the peoples choice
this needs to be called into order as a state
Crisis of emergency by the judges
They who stand for truth to address
Should judge according to the law laid down
A right to free movement
A right to live
Where we want
Should be our perogative
We should not feel that we can not roam
Or decide to set down new roots
Or to find a new home.
Borders are a man made concept
Nothing to with nature or creations set up
They were created by those who wish to rule
Making it easy for them control
Dividing people into smaller groups
Then instilling within them a tribal instinct,
Selling them an identity of nationhood
Proud to march under flags and anthems
Creating many individual races
This started back as further than the dark ages
Almost since the dawn of man
A flaw that may see us all dammed
Unless we begin to evolve back into a state
The we started off as
Just one race
That allows everyone to share
And move around the planet
Sharing cultures, faith and love
Sharing the wealth of which there's more than enough
Working in communities to create much more
One mass co-operative force
Respecting the resources of this earth
Not just exploiting it for all its worth
But nurturing and using permaculture to grow
The foundations of the seeds we grow
And fostering tolerance between us all
Building a peace that is eternal
Putting an end to war through self rule
Existentialism becomes the new tool
Of being your own authority
Showing kindness and compassion to all
This is my dream I share with you all
One race
One love
One peace is may call.
Where Love Has Never Gone Before
...the legacy of a poet...
A man is not a man until his love becomes idolatrously immense
Since time began, his love eagerly evolved with his ideal intense
Now in suspended animation, his love spirally stagers in suspense
Within his venal violation, the Angels will deliberate in his defense
I, a simple poetic voice, shall take love thru the divergence of mind
Upon its choice, the viral verses shall reach the calamitous confined
Be love a black hole, or be it a quintessent quasar an astral aligned
Take a journey of soul, as love elaborates the embryonal of remind
Welcome to love’s eternal eclipse, where reflections of reality reminisce
Realms of refractiles in bliss as the Supernovae combust in a chaotic kiss
Words of love through dimensional drift of hellion holes and heavens lift
Descending with love in a demons shift ascending admits a seraph’s swift
Phasing thru portals of terrestrial time, beams of light of maximum prime
Exploiting love, a new paradigm, celestial symphonies’ in chambers chime
As love exponentially expands, touching multi-verses and lachrymal lands
Within the frozen fires, it withstands, landing upon seraphical sacred sands
The voices of love must be heard, of heavens and hells the winding word
Be it in the solitudes forever blurred, or melodic musicals of the songbird
For now, it silently sails in morning view, nestled of night by natures crew
Thus it is time to bid adieu, by the one word that has brought me to you.
June.20.2018
My Muse, Mortal
Sponsored by: Gregory R Barden
Please sir don’t sell me to that man
I beg you sir, I’ll behave as I can
I heard that he whips his slaves with lashes
And burn them with cigarettes and…..
Make them eat their ashes
Please sir please I beg your kind heart
Please sir, please let us leave this mart
I beseech you sir not to sell me to that ogre
My dear lord! He’s starting to look at me and ogle!
Please sir don’t be deceived by his money and pomp
Because he keeps girls whether in his bed or tomb!
Please sir, keep me and I’ll be your obedient slave
Please sir don’t send straight to hell and grave
I heard that he makes his slaves work till they fall
And when one does, he tortures him till goes out his soul
But if some of them survived on and got old
He shoots them! Indeed sir! That’s what I’ve been told
(After yoking them and exploiting their toil and plod
He drinks sweet wine, and they taste their own blood)
Then he throws their bodies into the river
He’s the devil himself, I heard like such doings never
Please sir, keep me as your possession
And save me from his cruelty and aggression
Please sir don’t be affected by his amount of gold
And whatever happens please don’t say to him: Sold!
In Lochness, an undulating giant lives;
legendary Nessie; giant oarfish or
prehistoric remnant?
No one knows for certain,
but he bothers no one; leave him be.
In mountainous terrain, walks the Yeti.
Part man; part beast; perhaps the missing link?
Science said of its remains,
“It is a relative of ancient polar bears”; perhaps.
In Jersey woods, people say a, “Devil” hides;
a new species or an experiment in genetics, gone awry?
There are many Doctor Moreau’s and Frankenstein’s,
in this world and they do,
abandon their mistakes.
Regardless, life is life and
it must be respected,
for harmony to reign.
What if cryptids aren’t myth?
People say, “You can’t cross a rabbit with a cat”,
but it has been done.
Perhaps humankind has made,
the mistakes of ancient ancestors;
maybe centaurs and fauns were once…real?
On such an old planet…whom can be certain?
Ancient texts and glyphs, speak of many things,
mythical and legendary and history does…repeat.
Someone had to tamper with genetics,
to discover that pig arteries,
can work in the human body;
that cow plasma, could too.
The human explores its world;
exploiting even ravaging other species,
without concern for the end result.
Perhaps, humans should leave, well enough alone.
“Nessie”, “Yeti”, “Jersey Devil”; cryptids,
like all life, should be free to live.
The human species,
is the most deadly and destructive,
of all predators.
Clearly, not the smartest, at times;
Not even with regard to, its other siblings.
Humans seem to obliterate everything, they touch;
never caring for the harm that they do…until it’s too late.
Even then, some never lend anymore thought, to their deeds.
I owe no apology for me being me
I owe no "i'm sorry" if I offended thee
I will never apologize for speaking my truth
Being sorrowful is uncalled for, for words spoke in youth
Any plea for forgiveness will fall on deaf ears
I was thoughtful in every vowel I spoke in my years
I have no justification, if it reduced you to tears
I somehow found joy in exploiting your fears
I was what I was, that fact remains true
But instead I can tell you just what I will do
I will assure you to help bring out your best
Can guarantee that I will try to help and invest
In bringing you closer to a better place of mind
I solemly swear, No words of unkind
With a vow somehow, change hearts on this planet
The covenent I explore is deep, I don't fully understand it
My obligation to mankind runs deep in my veins
I pledge to help relieve all the pains and the strains
The intention, with no pretention, is be who I was
Without the selfishness, or need for applause
Equations
Linear array of
life symbols,
If one could set forth
on left and to the right,
A mere balancing
of algebraic equation,
We swing to tunes
pulleys struggle a balance.
Unlike free birds
that fly limitless,
Confident cricket
that shrills constantly,
Bees humming
still their honey lost,
Flowers perishing
leave fragrance in air,
All celebrate life
no equations saught.
Man wasting
efforts and time,
Interfering into
laws of nature,
Killing and exploiting
in name of equations,
Nothing set right.
Let learnings
of physics, chemistry
and mathematics,
Apply to real living
Equations of love
and laughter,
Wisdom and speech
emotions and trust
Be congruent.
Written March 12th, 2016
For contest "Equations"
Sponsor- Anthony Slausen
Now entered for "101 in a row- 14- poetry contest" by PD A
lost my two front teeth
in a fall
this past fall
put two shiny new Washington quarters
under my pillow
to get replacements
Daddy told me
that his dental plan
will replace
only up to one Roosevelt
in a twelve month period
if at all
he said that this condition
was a result of a conspiracy in our modern society
driven
by corrupt, exploiting and greedy
tooth fairies in expensive blue suits and white coats
driving BMWs and Mercedes
drinking lattes and cappuccinos
under the banners of humanity, fairness and truth
and the stars and stripes
cheating on their spouses
putting their assets in accounts outside the reach
of the IRS
and who would do in their mother for a Roosevelt
The honeybee; the maid of flowers:
Selflessly she toils for hours,
filling up her pollen stores---
never grumbling at her chores.
Sips of nectar keep her strong
as she labors all day long,
pollinating field and arbor,
and making honey in her larder.
Humble as her kind may be,
their loss would be a tragedy.
The earth would shed a mournful tear,
were honeybees to disappear.
The cockroach is a great success,
a paragon of hardiness.
It serves no queen and tends no hive;
its sole concern is to survive.
And this it does---to our chagrin:
Wherever we home, it settles in---
to feed and breed at our expense,
exploiting without recompense.
A champion at adaptation,
it garners no appreciation:
Were cockroaches eradicated,
their absence would be celebrated.
Two species doing what they do best:
The one a friend, the other a pest;
one a blessing, one a blight:
Worker by day or scourge by night.
According to its occupation,
each kind has earned its reputation.
Consider, now, society:
Are you a cockroach, or a bee?