Best Fact Is Poems
It's so simple,
So basic,
Yet we lack it.
Interaction is nothing without it.
Unable to make a bond because the fact is,
We've missed the point.
The point that connects you and me,
And not just on a family tree;
That connects us all from A to Z,
And not just on eHarmony.
Trust.
Where did it go?
Or did we even have it years ago?
Afraid to go on the right track,
Because we might get stabbed in the back.
Locking our doors and checking it twice,
Like we're Santa Clause on a Christmas blight.
Putting a lock on our phone for protection,
Because your friends may use it as a weapon.
Hiding what belongs to us,
Because we lost our trust in all our lust.
But trusting each other is a must,
Because you cant spell trust without us.
Trust.
A firm belief in the reliability,
Truth,
Ability,
Or strength in someone.
Can you think of anyone?
I am sure you can,
Maybe the one that holds your hand.
But for how long?
I'm sorry but it's true,
People can back-stab you.
But this can change starting with you,
Because if you trust people,
They'll trust you.
You may get hurt but at least you'll live,
With your heart on your sleeve and something to give.
So let's break this cycle of deceit and start this world anew.
It doesn't start with them,
It starts with you.
Trust someone and you will see,
How great this world could be,
For you and me.
It's not that hard so don't make it be,
It's only the fear of the possibility,
Of losing everything.
Don't fear,
Trust.
Well, here is the truth for you all,
since you had no idea you are a
part of one big scam called Poetry Soup
which charges you for the anthology
just so you can see your own poem,
so that means don't be upset because
you were not accepted into Anthology that
has close to a 1000 poets in it and even more poems,
they take everything and anything and pretend
like they had to read all of the works and then decide,
it is a nonsense and be happy that you did not get accepted!
My poem got accepted and i cant read it, because they want me to buy
the book just so i can see my poem in it.
Now this whole place could be a scam,
because if they can scam us through Anthology
that means they do not give three s about what we write!
Diverse Voices is a scam, Poetry soup is a scam,
the whole internet is a scam, and the only way
you will be able to accept this fact is to stop posting here,
and for over 20 years this scam has been taking our poetry
in exchange for profit of which we get 0. How is this poem for a change?
Truth hurts that is why nobody wants to hear it.
DIVERSE VOICES MY ASS!
Next item up for bid, a rare coin of mine
Is one 1894 s silver Liberty dime
Only 24 of these coins were minted that year
That is, in San Francisco, let me be clear
In case anyone here has a thought to purloin
We have guards and cameras on this valuable coin
It's merely speculation why so few were minted
The fact is, that's all, they permitted
The superintendent gave most to banker friends
But three were given to his daughter to spend
She spent one on ice cream, the other two she saved
After that,there whereabouts weren't written on page
The chances of you seeing another one like this
Couldn't be calculated on one hundred abacuses
This perfect coin is the best ever seen
And the last one that sold went for two million green
If you've deep pockets, want to impress your friends
My rare silver dime must surely make you grin
For two million I'd say, "Going once" at that price
But now 2.5 million I'd say, "Going twice"
Anything over that I would gladly let it go
Pay three million right now and I'll holler, "SOLD"
By Daniel Turner
...Now I ain't without notoriety,
Fact is.. I'm an old stalker with a walker.
She was big in the Purple Hat Society
and broke her hip,...while playing soccer.
When I met her, she was on the mend,
and she knew.. what I was after...
and I said I'd catch her when I can,
She said to push that walker a lil' faster.
She had her a "lectric wheel chair,
I just had my old walker and me,
she was pretty fast for a blue hair...
"till I crashed into her I.V. tree...
Well, they fitted my leg with plaster,
and I kinda forgot what I was after...
"till one day,
she wheeled in to see me,
Yep. Said she'd come ta free me!
Now we sit together,
cozy up and talk about the weather.
We compare wrinkled tatoos,
and guess what they are,
we may share a shot of booze,
we don't go too awful far...
We keep our orthepedic shoes
under the same bed,
and I retired as a walker stalker,
meals on wheels keeps us fed
and we keep our teeth...
in the very same locker.
("Nite Nite, Darlin.")
First of Ike and Jane sequence...Reposted to help PD with smiles request. : )
Its filtering down.' Over the streets and open ground.' From
Clouds to fog formation, just forget about coal burnt waste inahalation.' Do not bother with I C E car emissions
This is a ( total war condition ) carried out in hidden labs
Our ecosystem is now reserved for the slab.' In morgue
Unknown?? in slithering and stealth.' Its walls are built its
Roof the whole heavens.' Come to think a bit? Forests and
Farms and crops are harmed, the unborn and infants, and
Us. Yet dont be alarmed.? Just tune in to another tv show;
Like 'the view maybe?' Is that the place that informs you?
Or ( my kitchen stinks?) If you are in O Z.? Meanwhile you
Caring governments have got your bods? Inhaling such
Stuff as strontium graphene and barium too and also
Aluminum, its a potent brew; hundreds of particles can coat
One hair.! Human, animal, insect, yet do they care? W H O
Must know.' About this pandemic.? Which throughout the
World is now a systemic.' Along with flouride in the water
We must drink.' Hey why not; night cap in an injection? I
Must ask what do 'you think?' Do you know about this a
In fact is it your job.? To spray these poision particles.! Do
You get a few bob.? Or do you package the poision do you
Print the lables? In our modern Außchwitz whats on the
Table.? I hear the worlds top geo scentist Dr David Keith was popped
This very question.? Now isnt that a relief? Or maybe not.? If its
True.? Because the answer he chose, on ultimate effects
On our whole planet.?? He said I really do not know!
Meanwhile from Attenbrough and Thunberg.?? On all the above' its just a no show.!!
Your rhyme reads like a rap they say,
a rap I say,
a rap they say,
perhaps but rap is rhyme you see,
it's rhyme really,
it's rhyme you see,
this poem is not lyrical,
no not at all,
not lyrical,
'cus songs use words repeatedly,
repeat you see,
repeatedly.
We'll use that as the chorus,
it's easy and thoughtless,
lets build a rhyme fortress
with verse summersaultus,
not a word but I don't care,
eating apples grapes and pears,
seeking angles of praise from flair,
story starts now take a chair.
Out in public with clothes removed,
I've had this dream but now it's true,
a dude that's nude and on the move,
without a pube all in plain view,
swing it like a helicopter,
round and round 'til someone stops ya,
grab some weed and party poppers,
run down streets to dart from coppers,
drinking aftershock that shocks ya,
always after the shot has docked ya,
stick your head between some knockers,
wake up thick lipped at the doctors.
(Chorus)
Write it like a conversation,
it might give it a new dimension,
in that last verse you forced the rhyme,
of course that's fine in this rap rhyme,
'cus rap is rhyme it's rhyme they rap,
that is a fact a fact is that,
by it's nature rap is rhyme,
if it reads like a rap then it reads like a rhyme,
does that mean always rhyme is rap,
of course it isn't it's less than that,
now that sounds mean,
what do you mean,
rap rhymes are rhymes and rap,
rhymes just rhyme they're not rap,
well what's this verse then is it rap?
No my friend this verse is crap,
I hope they remember this is a conversation,
they're not reading you lost their attention.
(Chorus)
A third verse now this is long winded,
it's forced and pointless poets cringing,
get back to the story,
now you were knocked out,
yes and I remember nowt,
then what the hell's this rhyme about,
it's like a selfie with lips that pout,
no one cares except the poser,
that means no one notes the nose hair,
wrap this up it's going nowhere,
rap it up like you're a rapper,
this poem keeps on getting crapper,
no one's read as far as here,
in this worse rhyme you've wrote all year,
at least it flows like hip hop songs,
it flows with flow its flow is strong,
to flow like this use words not long,
here's the chorus lets sing along.
(Chorus)
it reads like a hip hop
POTD 17/10/2018
MY AGE
My age is nothing but a number, nothing but a slumber that I can’t wake from, this is what I’ve done. I’ve looked around and found that the matter of the fact is life isn’t what it’s supposed to be for me.
The average teenager spends most of their lifetime looking at their phones and when it’s time to learn something new their minds have already grown. Absorbing every single thing that they are sold, having a twelve year old’s body and the mind of a twenty one year old.
Social media doesn’t help the situation, it only changes how the different problems are situated. It has stolen complete sentences and created abbreviations, shortcuts of a language used by my generation. You could be laughing out loud when in reality you’re crying, saying TBH to be honest when in actual fact you’re actually lying.
And to that you can’t say anything because if LIFE was abbreviated it would stand for Living In Fear of Everything.
This is what I go through, in addition the music industry has had a major breakthrough. It has managed to be more influential promoting sex, drugs and slurs that are racial. “Making money moves” is about dancing on a pole, “Smoke weed everyday” is the daily intake of dope and this is said all while mentioning the one African American slave term that we all know. My nig-...I can’t say it though. So why do you. You have no idea who that affects. Sometimes we need to learn to be more politically correct.
They say that euphoria is just around the corner, behind the school building in a midst of vape. These are the lies they create, saying everything is ok. Just inhale it once and you’ll be done. I’m sorry, you can call me a loner but don’t mistake me for a stoner. One shot, two shots, three shots, four, hard. Call me antisocial but I’ve never drank before and I’m not about to start.
Society is full of influences, temptations and choices. However people like me always end up being voiceless. They think we’re too young to have any serious issues, that’s just another excuse for not wanting to accept the truth. You choose to change the subject to something totally unrelated, “We don’t have many problems?” well isn’t that an understatement?
You say that it will change, you say it’s just a phase, you say it’s another page in my story, no, this stage, right here...
This is MY AGE!
Yoga in Poem - A novel attempt 01/ Many
YOGA is a priceless gift given by great ancient Indian
saints for every human being through Vedas. I am
trying to bring one step each week before all my
known and unknown friends of Poetry Soup and for
other viewers for a glimpse of this treasure of India,
which in fact is a gift of Good Health
for the entire humanity.
Ravindra
Meditation Step 01
Meditation remains
The essence of healthy living
And the most precious
Gift given to humans
By the Almighty God.
We think and think
And puzzle our mind
With ideas and emotions
With worries and
Irrelevant thoughts.
This goes on in our minds
Ever since we find that
We have grown-up
To know and understand
And to behave with
The world.
But unfortunately
From that very time
We unknowingly start
Worrying also and
Sometimes
Not only during daytime
But even
When we are in sleep.
This never ending
Row of worries and worries only
Sometimes for reasons
And often without a season
Have become a habit
To lament
On what we have and
More on,
What we do not have.
This constant
Lamentation and pondering
Brings and form shape
A Free Gift for all of us
In the form of slow poisoning
Which we inhale and drink
Every day and every moment
When we breathe and talk
When we love or walk
When we behave and misbehave
When we are in a haste and
Even when
We lie on a cot
Or when we fight
Without a cause.
This constant thinking and
Worrying
Slowly destroy everything
Good and great in our heart
Given by the Almighty God.
But meditation and Yoga
Can restore
What we often unknowingly
Just throw away
By our day and night worrying
Which continues
When we go to sleep or
Are busy in accomplishing our tasks.
Meditation and Yoga
Can restore
What we often unknowingly
Have lost
By our worries
While sleeping and even while
Accomplishing our tasks
With a gift of better and healthy life.
Ravindra
Kanpur India 4rd /6th July 2013 To be continued ……
NOTE:
The series which I am starting today
is also a gift for all American
friends on their Great of Independence 4th July.
My Greetings for all of you.
With best wishes…Ravindra
Benefits of Meditation
can be seen and noted on the following webpage.
http://www.ineedmotivation.com/blog/2008/05/100-benefits-of-meditation/
Hitch-hiking on the road of yellow bricks
I took a chance upon a passing whim
It ferried me where thins grow out from thickes
Turns out, I found myself out on a limb
Imagine, on a limb and at my age
How could I get my feet back on the ground
My first instinct was fly into a rage
A brainstorm came, then all my anger drowned
Yet this was not my first time on a limb
Fact is, I've shinnied down more than a few
These days, instead of taking it so grim
I've learned to sit and just enjoy the view
If you're caught on a limb by some mistake
The bright side is, the damned thing didn't break
by Daniel Turner
...Now I ain't without notoriety,
Fact is.. I'm an old stalker with a walker.
She was big in the Purple Hat Society
and broke her hip,...while playing soccer.
When I met her, she was on the mend,
and she knew.. what I was after...
and I said I'd catch her when I can,
She said to push that walker a lil' faster.
She had her a "lectric wheel chair,
I just had my old walker and me,
she was pretty fast for a blue hair...
"till I crashed into her I.V. tree...
Well, they fitted my leg with plaster,
and I kinda forgot what I was after...
"till one day,
she wheeled in to see me,
Yep. Said she'd come ta free me!
Now we sit together,
cozy up and talk about the weather.
We compare wrinkled tatoos,
and guess what they are,
we may share a shot of booze,
we don't go too awful far...
We keep our orthepedic shoes
under the same bed,
and I retired as a walker stalker,
meals on wheels keeps us fed
and we keep our teeth...
in the very same locker.
("Nite Nite, Darlin.")
Composed and Written by-
Robert A. Dufresne
How silly of you
to think you are silly!
Do you think folks just visit your page
willy-nilly?
Does one come for the show
and leave with all forgotten?
To think this is so
is really quite wanton.
It is too linger in the mouth,
to be savored through out the day.
Uncensored and full of life,
let the pieces fall where they may!
Could it be, Eileen,
that people don't just stop for the rhymes.
But maybe because
through your poems, they see a beautiful mind?
Could it be perchance,
they long for a dance,
through the avenues of a peculiar soul
that isn't copy-and-paste,
without frills and waste,
but in fact is part of the greater whole?
We see glimpses now and then
through your ink and through your pen.
But don't go on believing
that you've let the cat out of the bag, just yet.
(This is Eileen Ghali, after all ... lest we forget!)
In response to Must It Be For Contest.
Marybeth, my little sister, the baby of the family.
A wild blonde, just like her mom,
She had to have her candy!
From weed to perks, triple two-ees and ludes
Marybeth and Judy were always stewed.
That was in high school, and a few years before
They both settled down like the girl next door.
A husband and children just like Karen and Kate
But mom never met them
She had them too late.
Spent time with her dad, she loved him to death,
He hated her husband, She was his Marybeth!
She shared all her secrets and turned him against
The man that she married - it didn't make sense.
Mare landed a job with the Kromberger clan
They loved her like family; maybe more than...
Her life was too short, her children too young
To lose their dear mother, God, what have You done?
She paid all her dues with the pain she endured
For the past seven years with no hope for a cure.
Being blind was another effect of the coma
And a few years went by before carcinoma
Eating food from a cup was humbling for sure,
But Mare always kept some humor in store
Her wish when she left us, was for us not to cry
Remember the good times, and stop asking why.
Her time was her time and we'll all have our day
For leaving this life, for slipping away
Our guardian angels are right by our sides
They take our hand gently along with our Guides
And cross us to where we no longer need
The pain and the suffering to which we agreed.
There's always a reason, for the things of today
We can't see the big picture, Faith asks us to pray.
One fact is for sure, we all have a Life Purpose
It's always much deeper than what's seen on the surface
Marybeth's purpose included us all
I'm grateful for that, but what the heck was it for?
Someday I'll look back, probably next New Years Eve.
A year will have passed, I'll still not have grieved.
The hard part for me is the 'wanting' to leave.
Tired of living? I just can't conceive.
Watch what you 'give,' you will surely receive
Exactly the same as your intention conceived.
It may have been wrapped in beautiful gold
Expecting more thanks than the newspaper-rolled.
Giving without expectations in mind
Is the secret of leaving this world behind.
Then we get to stay and see what makes us tick
We don't judge, we don't talk, just observe
Don't get sick.
It's not personal. Whew....
Love you Mare, See you there.
She's on the Verge
Joe cool
She talks to her hand
like seriously duh
the joke im not telling
we used to be witches writing poetry in coffee shops
smoking pot in serene gardens
and if it wasn't for Ginger my dog
that ran away to make love to Winchester
when she was in heat
we never would have met when we were eight
and still friends
but she tells me its because of me she's crazy
She wants me to remove pro creations that are stalking her
something tells me she's visited the funny farm too many times
I've been there
I've seen it
I know
But me and Joe
we are two of a kind
But I could be bluffing
maybe we're part of a royal flush
I'm space ace from mars
and she's a voodoo queen
to complete the circle of a long lost God in Girlfriend
Only the watchtowers know what that truly means
How did i get soo lucky her mother asked
but I'm not lucky at all
count your blessings and learn to read between the lines
because this mystic in your life
from your tree of fruits and loins did she fall
I'm a gullible god
and so are you
the tower of Babel has fallen
and she doesn't know what to do
so when she speaks the tongue of spirituality or which
and all you hear is psycho babble
it doesn't sound like
sneesh cheep bleep flap jip hap frew
she makes sense to me with words shes obsessing
i just wish you would take it on yourselves to read up on it
to understand her to communicate
instead of sending her to the hospital
Those pills make her
talk to her hand
and those lies are mostly true
fact is stranger than fiction
and together your family can pull through
even those doctors
are a little bit mad at that tea party
and shes never thrown me away after what I've been through
i love her to pieces
so should you
shes always been there for me
and when we lose touch she searches high and low for me
when you lose touch
there are more than one thing u can do
shes had exorcisms
and a low self esteem
date rape by succesfull well respected men
and everyone said it was blasphemy
it's not easy but it could be worse
believe you me
she's beautiful on the inside
and soo many soo called sane people
are beautiful outside
but uglier than sin if you ask me
More than a pot of gold awaits beyond the rainbow’s end;
Leprechaun’s are of the faerie clan and they play tricks.
The clever little bugger’s are sure, your mind to send;
on fascinating journeys that’ll leave you in a fix!
You may end up with two noses for, poking just one in
their secret world of mystic arts, that you are not to see.
The fact is, they’re the real bogeymen,
do not befriend, those Leprechaun’s, so wee!
I had a friend, into their den, went he.
I hear him screaming to this day, his tiny little shout,
barely taps my ears yet, Leprechaun laughs with glee;
I know my friend’s trapped within and will never get out.
Saint Patrick may have scared away snakes;
his courage never frightened the Fey.
While the snakes may quiver and quake;
the Fey thumbed their noses while snakes slithered away.
Written 3-11-19
For: "Pick A Title, Vol. 2 - Rhyme - Poetry Contest"
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Should n't I feel so sad, when my father is dead
Should I feel Like others? Clearly knowing their fathers dead
They were truly happy at each moment I saw them,
It seemed that their fathers would not die ever
This made me jealous, felt no funny by too hard to accept
The fact is that everybody dies and everybody is born with a cry
Cry, cry for appearing and cry for goodbye
Until no seen in nowhere, out of eyesight,
Left a father be felt by heart, even without sunlight