Best Fed Poems
On Nature's Beauty Soul Has Fed
Riverbank, watching waters flow
Living with aching pains in tow
Golden moon above shining down
Heaven above, its glowing gown
I ask, Lord what is left of me
Am I truly this fallen tree
Then heard is a clear booming shout
Open your eyes, look all about
Again strive to see, light is free
You do have a true friend in me.
Soothing, sounds of waters racing.
Shall beauty, I start embracing.
Riverbank, soothing wind blowing
Idly sitting, nowhere going
Far away night's glory has fled
On Nature's beauty soul has fed
Awaiting rays of rising sun
Seeing vast waters as they run
I but now a speck of old dust
Life again, life to again trust
On that river, hope is my raft
Inking verse, poetry my craft.
Soothing, sounds of waters racing.
Shall beauty, I start embracing.
Riverbank, shall I again fish
Dare enjoy life, make a new wish
That peace and love again I find
Wake to leave this state of deep blind
Walk forth, back into the sunlight
Into life, watching stars at night
Rise to herald birth of new day
Cast off morbid cloak of deep gray
Leave after my prayers are said
Defeat this cloud of dreaded dread.
Soothing, sounds of waters racing.
Shall beauty, I start embracing.
Robert J. Lindley, 7-14-2022
Rhyme
Note:
This poem was born from a fragment
presented in a previous note to a
recent poem titled,
" A Return From Ashes And Dust "…
Born Of Ash, Under Fires That Fed False Olympic Gods
Born of ash, under fires that fed false Olympic gods
First, scrounging this earth, as dark-clad beasts
Blinded, heaven gazing, begging to be lightning rods
Creating hallow golden halls, to throw huge orgy feasts.
And Fate ordered, moaning echoes to fly in darkened winds
Against its great rival Time and how foolishly it spends.
Was her salty kiss, waves of honey sent from cavernous pits
Her promises, sad curses hidden in golden warped lies
She blinded by wanton pleasures and her deep venomous spits
Oaths sworn under hellish whispers and blackest of skies.
And Fate ordered, moaning echoes to fly in darkened winds
Against its great rival Time and how foolishly it spends.
Born of ash, under fires that fed false Olympic gods
First, scrounging this earth, as dark-clad beasts
Blinded, heaven gazing, begging to be lightning rods
Creating hallow golden halls, to throw huge orgy feasts.
R.J. Lindley
May 9th, 1973
Rhyme , (When Truth Was Asked)
Note- Deleted....
Her language drips with intelligence
The slow drizzle of innuendos
and proclamations from which
she speaks is like witnessing
stalagmites and stalagtites
finally touching as if
each syllable was measured
by a drip
so edifying
And it's not just what she says
but how her lips catch the light
of a candle glow
and how the corners of her mouth
dance with her dimples,
her essence is edible
quite incomprehensible
how one can starve
by tasting it
I love every morsel,
every crumb that falls haphazardly,
to the floor, jealous of the way,
her tongue can be so judgemental,
inviting then inciting, enveloping
making me wish I had
lettered in spiritual dynamics.
I would have been a star
without ever touching a ball.
Her hello, and me running a million miles
in my mind trying to think of some other word
that rhymes with this title
other than bed...
I am fed
Fear
The venom that rains
Got you
Drowning
In the desert
And a spirit
Weak in brevity
Strong but unbelieving
That’s what fear fed on
Fear fed on you
Society cuts
Flying wings
As to drain
The courageous soul
Of its hope
And then
People die
Rich with power
Power they never used
That’s what fear fed on
Fear fed on you
I see plain pain
In your eyes
Hurt laughing at you
You’re afraid
To ever love again
Because your past
Caused you wounds
So you walk agape
Running
In a cold escape
That’s what fear fed on
Fear fed on you
I see your dried tears
Inscribed
On your broken face
But a determination
You’ve been robbed of
That’s what fear fed on
Fear fed on you
So will you
Forever sulk
Forever your conscience bulk
In a pessimist bask?
Or will you
Your mantle take
And fear forever shake
For you live dead
When fear drives your head
That’s what fear fed on
Fear fed on you
We are spoon-fed by touch divine,
transmuting body-mind,
orchestrated by God’s design,
for those with love aligned.
As such, without excuse,
it’s up to us to choose,
the flavour of our muse.
By bliss beats led ~
We are spoon-fed
Hooming in the near lorizon,
another girthday makes me bloomy
The yays, the dears are massing paster!
I am diserablly mepressed, and in a date of great sistress!
Age, you may agree, is rot for nissies!
More crinkles fill my worehead, more frowsfeet crame my face!
My shin is cagging, my doobs are bropping, my wackside biggles to and fro
One turn in front of glirror mass, and blaring gack is not the ass
that I had yorn just westerday!
My cimples are just dellulite, and jormones humping out of whack
My face gets sedder, I rurrender
Hig a dole and put me under!
My grair is hayer, my wips are hider, and travity has taken goll!
I'm binking, too, shrit by shrit!! Creaking, leaking, a shinking sip!
My femory is going mast! I search for lames and they've been nost !
I lander off, and then I'm wost….will you check the fost and lound?
Getting old has dot me gown!
I cannot wee sithout my glasses, I need a mozen dedications
My dibido has all but lisappeared, I fear the nend is getting ear !
Some may fall me rather coolish, but I would truly like to know
is the yountain, fouth for real? Deed me to it, I will link some
'Cause crowing golder isn't fun !!!
_____________________________________________________________
3/2/16 For Spoonerism Contest
Sponsored by Roy Jergen
When you called me on the phone,
I answered and said,
honey, we feel so all alone,
It's so good to hear from you tonight,
the kids have all been fed,
but, I couldn't eat a bite,
I know we've had our ups and downs,
and our in betweens,
but honey please please turn around,
it's not as bad as what it seems,
Don't tell me it's over now,
we don't need no more bad news,
we've got to find a way somehow,
the kids all need new shoes,
Honey, please turn around,
I know that we'll pull through,
although we've had our ups and downs,
I'd never stop loving you,
We've got to find a way somehow,
it's the kids that feel abused,
Don't tell me it's over now,
we don't need no more bad news,
Please come back home,
the kids have all been fed,
we feel so all alone,
Now nothing seems as right,
I kissed the kids for you tonight,,
and held them tight,
Please say you might.
warm orange fed fresh logs
soft shimmer silver tinsel...
merry christmas dear
Once a felon always a felon, right?
Once an addict always an addict, right?
At least an addict can make the choice to leave their drug of choice alone, turn their lives around and make something of themselves
Three strikes you’re out?
PSSSH! More like one!
What type of living can one with the label of a felon make?
Is it at all possible for them to become doctors, lawyers, a fighter of crime?
Their only destiny is to live the life of a partner in crime
The laws don’t allow the growth of someone with a prison record
There is no window period after doing time to show themselves and society that they’ve had some sort of revelation and choose to change
The law IS a partner in crime
The law perpetuates the mindset of a criminal
You may judge somebody that is “bout that life” but what other choices do they have other than
To rob someone of their life or wealth in an attempt to evade a life with no security or food.
Day by day, hour by hour these people live because they’ve been denied the opportunity of self-improvement
Oh, so it’s unfair for them to rob others for what they have?
THEY have been robbed
The LAW is unfair!
How can you tell them robbery is not okay when the very law has robbed these people?
So should they just commit suicide and allow those who haven’t yet made the mistake of becoming a felon to suffice?
You may look down on the recurrent inmates asking,
“Why haven’t they learned”?
“How dumb could they be to make the same mistakes that have landed them in prison”?
Going to jail or prison may not be the objective of their act but at least in prison there is a place to lay their heads and food to eat!
This is ridiculous!
I never go unshaven
My hair is well kempt
And I have a shower everyday
I always dress smart
Ad look the part
But still
I never catch a girls eye
No matter how I try.
So why do I see scruffy slobish men
Out with pretty women
Everywhere I go
If I'm doing something wrong
Can someone please let me know.
For it seems the scruffier you are
The more desirable you may be
I don't like to judge anyone
But why does no one want me.
I'm told women like bad boys
I'm no angel but not bad
Im not going to change for anyone
But it makes me really sad.
I'm just a desirable toy for their amusement
They discard when they have had enough
While I just want to settle down
But don't feel good enough.
Love and romance seem a thing of the past
For me
Im getting older
And I feel time is running out fast.
I exist and do not live
Biu still have so much to give.
Peter Dome. Copyright.2015. Oct.
There once was a man named Ted,
That wished to see the crocs fed.
They lined on the shore,
Appetites galore-
Too late to feed ducks, instead!
Limerick: Once a delicious hen fed on rice-sticks
for Delysia Hendricks, with many, many thanks
Once a delicious hen fed on rice-sticks
Loved gorging herself on limericks
She pecked on a sweet line
It turned all alkaline
Now chicken’s served with acid on bricks.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
Sewers possess a beauty all their own
belching gas, you can hear them hiss and groan.
A maze that stretches for hundreds of miles:
they remove our stench and leave us with smiles.
Such an efficient waste removal tube:
if you don’t admire their worth, you're a rube.
They're the bowels of a modern city:
not to acknowledge them is a pity.
Interconnected pipes flush out each house
and provide homes for a rat, or a mouse.
A marvel of septic engineering:
they spread good health without interfering.
Thanks to manholes and ubiquitous drains,
our paved streets are not flooded when it rains.
Sewer systems are an essential tool
to remove liquid waste and smelly stool.
Try to imagine life without this web
of underground rivers that flow and ebb.
They outpace a highly prized thoroughbred
and the trick is, they're gravity fed.
Wally Brummell, fed em on Crow, ...
johnsondon2•261 videos
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A0BmZZhbO-U
444 views
Uploaded on Oct 3, 2008
Wally some call him Zip (fed em black duck) (crow actually)Kakadu song man of Gulf town Karumba Australia
Stay alive in 55 and 56 said the roadside sign..
As the Ford Mercury whizzed by on local Brisbane time...
A flat head v8 jumped into a muffled roar...
And Bronco Don gave it its head full bloody bore..
Bill Brummell was a waiting aunty Nell was coming by..
And of course she'd bring the Johnsons little grubs like Mark and I...
So we lurched and wobbled cross country to the coast...
And aunty Grace was awaiting for sure shed cooked a roast..
So I followed cousin Wally about the Cleveland farm..
And watched him eat a melon from the inside without harm
Cut a hole put his head in, call him melon head?..
Just like a giant white ant this I say god strike me dead?..
Down in the valley my love is so low...
Sang old Slim Whitman on the valve radio..
old Don bought an inter truck a droving we would go..
to the Moonie floods back more than 50 years or so...
then Zip some call him Walter, he got a grand idea...
went to shoot some wild duck with a threeoh and some beer.... .303cal
so he lined up a wood duck but a crow got in the way..
so he reefed and pulled the trigger, just tough duck is all he'd say...
yes these ducks had big black feathers when talking they said ark...(not like them squeaky yank crows)
Wally plucked and filled the stew pot says its duck or just a lark..
Drunken ring barkers were hungry scoffed the lot in one quick feed...
And they were farting feathers till the crowing parts were freed...
Don Johnson...
Congress claims Donald Trump is psychotic
Yet we all must remain patriotic
To work everyday
Without any pay
Makes my landlord and grocer neurotic!