Best Face The Music Poems
My summer garden revealed gay pansies with faces,
As the scarlet tanagers flew roundabout singing.
A rapt audience, the flowers beamed in all places,
In the hour that golden butterflies were winging!
I sat myself on the porch swing, already in motion,
And I smiled to see pretty faces turned up to me,
As I smothered joyful in sunshine sound explosion,
In an irresistible pause for midmorning's beauty!
Written on 12/31/2020
For: Podium placing promise(2) Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand
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.
Dejected in love
I act in defiance of,
yet face the music
Why not look into my face,
Embrace panoptic passion !
One tanka - 5/7/5/7/7
Written on 19/4/14
Sponsor- Amy green
Now for contest ' Just one Tanka- old and new' by Alfred Vassallo
Entered on August 28th, 2014
No need to break my beautiful sky
It is better to tell a little lie
Than to face the music, how and why
Better be the deceptive I
And not to trouble the existential tie
We are programmed for enjoying pleasure
Of avoiding pain of any measure
Even a little insecurity is therefore a trigger
To tell a lie and stay a peacekeeper
Don’t we tell such lies to ourselves as well
When we say “well, I am not envious”
Even though I secretly check your mails
Freud called them ego-defenses
What lie who will tell whom is imprecise
It depends on our unique upbringing and biology
But the fact remains we prefer to say “wow, the tea is nice”
Even when it is insipid, just a survival strategy
No need therefore to spoil the sunrise
Better to stay armed with the soul-saving lies
___________________________________________________
June 25, 2016
For the Poetry Contest: Sweet little lies
Sponsored by: Silent One
It’s an old story.
We were classmates, you and I,
And later became colleagues,
Working under the same roof.
We had more or less the same specialization.
Married in the same year.
Our children went to the same school.
So far so good!
Now the plot thickens, so to speak!
Once, if you remember,
The boss comes to you for help,
Specifically for helping his sibling
By doing her assignments,
Given to her by a (prestigious) university
Where you and I studied
And where I am a Tutor now—
A concurrent position held by me.
If I were you, I would say:
“Sorry, it’s unethical.”
Or, would tactfully excuse myself—
Maybe by telling a white lie.
Instead, you tell him a blatant lie:
“I’m not hot on the subject, I’m afraid.”
And you go further
And out of the way to add:
“But so and so is. He can help you, I’m sure.”
The boss comes to me straight,
And beating about the bush, tells me:
“Now that so and so is not hot on the subject…blah blah.
Now it is a Catch-22,
Which you have contrived:
If I say yes, I would be exposed
And if I say no, I would be in trouble—with the boss;
There would be no more bonhomie
Between the boss and the boy.
How clever you are!
Furious, I choose to say no—bluntly
And let me face the music.
But now I know that
You are a round character after all,
And an Iago at that.
I appreciate your motiveless malignity.
I shrug my shoulders and mutter:
“Let it be!”
Composed and posted on August 3, 2017
Well, aren’t you a sight for sore EYES
Off the top of my HEAD its been nearly two years
Yes ,I have been keeping busy
A FINGER in every pie that’s me
It has been a bit of a struggle
I did put my NECK on the line
Many times I cried my HEART out
Then would dust myself off and say “ok girl CHIN up”
And FACE the music
Yes we were away for a while
We had really itchy FEET
Though we were BACK before we knew it
I've kept an EAR out to see if anyone had heard from you
I did hear you started your own confectionary business
You’ve always had a sweet TOOTH
It’s on… “Now what’s the name of that street “?
It’s on the tip of my TONGUE….
It is something like KNEE
Kneetson No Kneedham thats it!
You’ll have a lot of ELBOW room there
If you ever need help
I can always lend a HAND
Oh ,you heard about that incident did you
She really put her FOOT in it this time
She has a such CHEEK
I told her to get off my BACK
To stop looking down her NOSE at me
I’ve always been upfront with her
Worn my HEART on my sleeve
Though getting the truth from her
Is like pulling TEETH
She is a royal pain in the NECK
I ARMED myself for the next encounter
My HEART was in my MOUTH
To be honest I got cold FEET
Best I keep her at ARMS length
So last time I saw her ,I said
I hope you are all EARS
I need to get something off my CHEST
I politely wished her good luck
Told her to break a LEG
And kiss my ****!!
(A Body Idiom Poem)
VITUPERATIONS OF AN OPPRESSED MAN
Heaven will not smile on your home
Neither will the sun rise in your dome
For you have crossed my zone
And indeed crushed my bone
You fed me with doom
Just because my land is rising in boom
For almost two hundred and ninety nine nights
And extended to this night
My sprouts have not seen a bright light
You forced me out of my comfort zone
And make my kids prisoner of conscience
And lynch them with weapon of science
You cart away my wives’ brocade
By using religion as façade
Hence carry out your gruesome carnage
You pounced on villagers with no exemption to town dwellers
My city is not safe
Neither is the dwellers saved
I cannot compete with you
Neither can I combat you
What I’m left with is to beg you
To leave my land now
For the night is near
And the nemesis is close
Because the stage is set
And you shall face the music
Love it is
Love it will be
Love is what i feel
This is love and
Happiness
I know this isn't love
Love is what i need it to be
Love is what i want this to be
But my heart is like a little child
praying and wishing for it to be...
Love
I'm living a delusion
It's filled with clear skies and beautiful white flowers
It makes me feel invincible
It makes me feel whole
It makes me feel...
Loved
Is it that difficult for me to face the storm?
Is it that difficult for me to face the music?
Or am i just in deep need of feeling love
Maybe I'm just afraid to be alone
To be...
Loveless
I cling onto anything that shows me affection
Creating a pretence for love
My eyes are blinded to the world. No!
I chose to blind myself to...
Reality
It is what it is
Clear skies before the storm
And the storm is here
The grizzling thunder roars that it awakens me from my
delusion
Lightening bolts running through my heart
It falls it into...
Million pieces
And all that i am left with is...
Brokeness...
A Rondel for Donald Trump
As those Fake News polls keep coming 'round
And their predictions drag you down,
Just face the music like a Man
Deny it all, the best you can:
Try to deny that deepening frown.
There is, alas, an ever-growing sound
A quiet voice ever gaining ground
That makes you grasp at each more desperate plan
To salvage your sinking ship.
But there is no helpful, salvaging sound
Within the silence all around,
To spare you the darkness closing in
To spare the wages of your sin,
To stay the darkness that abounds
Through which you cannot hope to slip.
The Fugitive
He’s now subdued and has health issues.
He was once in a dysfunctional marriage.
He’s presently in a stable relationship.
He’s more responsible and doesn’t drink like he use to.
He’s a gentleman, and no longer beats and abuses women.
Once a dead beat dad; he’s now trying to be a good father.
Once like an enemy to me; but now, he’s civil and a friend.
But there was a long journey before entering the road to civility.
He had prior criminal offenses before I ever came to know him.
Serving time for his crimes did little to alter his bad behavior.
He disturbed my family’s peace, and the peace of my neighbors.
The law did not protect anyone from the destruction of his disturbed soul.
He refused to surrender to law enforcement to face the music for his crimes.
Becoming a fugitive from justice, he fled the continental United States, and
remained so for some five years.
No man is an Island, and at some point, we all get caught.
He has now paid his debt to society, and his running days are over.
03092016 PS Contest, “A Fugitive”, by Julia Ward
I know a deadbeat system when I see one
Charging 25 cent in a public bathroom for napkins
When it should be free
Sharing a public bathroom with men and women
When the bathroom should be separated
A shelter with men and women in there
When they should have different facilities for different genders
Cash assistance only for females who have kids
When cash assistance should also be for single and married individuals too
Funding for minorities to go to college they put a stop to that
So now a minorities is left without a sit for school because they cut the funding
Instead of housing the poor
They got them staying with there family and friends
The land of the rich
Stoping acting like you can't afford it
Stop lying to the people
It's time to face the music
It's okay to be consider the land of the broke
in till the money shows back up
That cut back it hurt millions
It left alot of individuals
Unemployment
Homeless
Poverty
The system trying to replaces money that noone knows where it went too
I know a deadbeat system when I see one
Where is the new streets
Where is the new side walks
Ain't this what are American tax's dollars pay for
Where is the money going too
No one seems to know until someone trips
and falls from the crack in the sidewalk
No one seems to know until someone's car
gets a flat tire from a pothole in the streets
No one seems to know
Until a street light that was suppose to turn red for a car to stop
ends up
crashing into five other idividuals all because that street light didnt work
Suffering
Pain
Agony
How long do we the people have to live like this
Hopefully one day the deadbeat system will get it together
No more drugs
No more disease
No more hunger
Stop leaving the people a stray
Start making a change
Starting today
By; Shaniki Smith
Date: 06-15-2016
Our debt’s sixteen trillion going on seventeen
Obama it’s time to think
Better beware coz your new health care
Is putting us on the brink
Our debt’s sixteen trillion going on seventeen
No reading between the lines
We are indebted and surely headed
For a dreadful decline
Totally unprepared are you,
To cut government spending
You’re unfair and narcissistic
With you there’s no happy ending
You need someone older and wiser
Telling you what to do
But seventeen trillion going on eighteen
Is more your cup of brew
-----------------------
I owe sixteen trillion going on seventeen
I know that I’m naïve
Cronies I meet tell me I’m sweet
And willingly we deceive
I owe sixteen trillion going on seventeen
Innocent of why that rose
I think it was Bush giving me dirty looks
My how my nose grows
Totally unprepared am I
To face a world of reality
Crafty and sly and scared am I
If they learn the truth about me
I need someone older and wiser
But don’t tell me what to do
Coz seventeen trillion going on eighteen
Is in store for all of you.
A little parody where 'face the music' meets 'The Sound of Music'
This poem is about our inability to avoid eventualities. The sooner we can accept them, the sooner we can prepare for them. In the darkness is where the light will be revealed.
You were born, and like it or not, you're going to die
don't claim to be human, if you lack the capacity to cry
by wasting time, this precious of commodities goes lost
only as life comes to an end, you understanding its cost
A poem with a vision, control the fear, make a decision
when surrounded by doubt, you anticipate the collision
by coming face to face, you're forced into a confrontation
always finding yourself rushed by others, your frustration
That light at the end of the tunnel, thinking where it can be
but more often than not, a mirage is all that you really see
trying to transform reality, but life is only a merry-go-round
until you meet your soul, then existence becomes profound
This world is about foreseeing eventualities, that's where we're all headed
whether for good or bad, the choices we make will forever be embedded
no secrets exist in the world above, and much depends on just what we do
so look forward in making the right decisions, and those merits they accrue
How deceptive we humans are, passively content with maintaining our status
until we're put to the challenge, and in need of all that emotional apparatus
there's simply no escape, so we must face the music, learn to accept reality
our ultimate demise has already been decided, death is an absolute formality
So live for the present, and focus on the good waiting for you on the road ahead
while never forgetting, there's plan and purpose in all the good that you spread
rejoice in life and in all the good that you do, as your Creator awaits your return
destined to find true happiness, a happiness that only yearning souls can discern
Can’t keep running, tired of hiding, of all the games, and the lying.
Bored of the stories, and the never after, sick of telling myself, it will be better,
Can’t keep smiling behind lying eyes, convincing the truth of what I despise,
When did I become what I see, when did I lose sight? And forgot to be me?
The one with the voice, a pre- mediated script, with one skill and nothing left to give.
Sick of being the one to take, losing everyone, for my own gain.
When did I become so selfish, so self-entitled?
So reckless and so unkind?
Can’t keep changing your situation, to suit the games played, avoiding the call at all costs, not caring about who and what you’ve lost.
I want to change, not stay the same, sick of the being the one shamed, like fallen down fame.
Hindsight is always better when it’s not your own, easier to judge, as you aren’t the star of the show,
Don’t want the unkind words that are said, want to switch off the constant thoughts before I go to bed.
Can’t keep running, because enough is enough, got to face the music, cos the lies have me caught.
Keeping secrets behind your back
It’s what I’m good at
But how long can I keep this up?
Before having to face the music?
The secrets cross my heart
I Hope to die
To die in this sin of secrets
To die in confusion
To die knowing you can’t find out
To die a liar
To die a hypocrite
To die a secret keeper.