Best Followers Poems
False Followers List
Why do poets have us on their
main list of followers
Yet...to be blunt here...
Never comment on our poems?
If you are doing this~ it's silly.
Worse! Those who commented
for months and stopped~
How hurtful can you be, feigning
loving humanity?
Let me go.
And all others that you do not read.
That's just being kind.
Be loving to your poet-kind.
Stop being a fake follower.
I beg you. Thank you.
It won't take long to drop my name!
Keeping my name there...totally lame!
Panagiota
December 18, 2019
Neither follower nor leader but HIS
Follow to borrow, lead to lend means
Both take away self-respect
But be what you ought
Aware to be sheep, beware of wolves.
==============================
Inspiration taken from William Shakespeare's famous quote " Neither a borrower nor lender be"
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Tenth Placement
Contest: Follower or leader
Follow the leader into the unknown,
Proving just how little we’ve grown!
Never to be more than pawns,
Nothing more than thoughtless spawn!
And they wonder why our minds are blown!
~6th Place in the "Follower or Leader" Contest by Carolyn Devonshire~
BONJOUR, MA CHÉRIE!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Val was a young French squirrel, a model quite chic
Who shopped at only high-end, fashion boutiques.
Clerks greeted her, “Bonjour, ma Chérie!
Vous avez l'air belle et aérée!”
“C'est vrai, mes peeps. Wearing Dior gives me a mystique.”
Val struck a pose, paparazzi's camera's flashed,
For being in the limelight she was unabashed.
With a slow turn and flick of her tail,
“You’ll find me trending 24/7, where ‘likes’ prevail!
Look how many followers on Insta I’ve amassed!”
But then the unthinkable happened~
A vile act, a digital fate that had Val saddened.
Poof! In an ‘instant,’ her ‘gram’ account vanished,
For which her digital famish could’nt be vanquished
“Oh woe is me! My heart can no longer be gladdened."
“Lord a mercy, you’ve been hacked!” her publicist did exclaim.
“Tell me, tell me! Who’s responsible for this digital pain?”
“Must ‘a been a hacktivist, a cyber punk perhaps.
Or….did you let your cyber protection app lapse?”
“Oh, no! Hastag #Bonjour,mypeeps, my digital claim to fame.”
*Note: "Instagram is an American photo and short-form video sharing social networking service owned by Meta Platforms. It allows users to upload media that can be edited with filters, be organized by hashtags, and be associated with a location via geographical tagging." (Source, Wikipedia)
Behold the Pied Piper has tossed his pipe belatedly in the trash
Having led folks down some garden paths he trousered wads of cash
Dollars, pounds, euros, rolls of wallpaper - the currency didn’t matter
He gathered countless cretins, enchanted by piffle and patter
From sound suburban Ruislip to Henley-on-the-Thames
This piper sprinkled magic dust and never made amends,
His tunes were quite eccentric but they made the voters dance
Cycling round the capital his prospects to advance
Now the pipes have fallen silent (I wish this event came sooner)
Though he tried many instruments, he never bought a tuner
Cast-off from the orchestra, a wayward minstrel now unseated
His lies have all been rumbled, and on radio repeated
Considering his record, he enjoyed a lengthy stint,
While friendly foreign editors found his comments fit-to-print
The piper told his followers, “Pack your bags and let us roll
It might be a path of brambles but we’ll be taking back control.”
At last his pipes are broken, there are pieces in the bin,
We count excuses and denials that with hindsight look so thin,
People run-for-cover as they see their hero beaten
Coping with defeat is not a subject taught at Eton.
I hope that when You change
the heart maybe the mind will follow?
Do rest safe, O! revered leader
Do live long for nation’s sake
We will put our lives at stake
Duty’s one but forms do differ.
Do your share by raising slogan
Stay at back and push us forwards
All we need are just your words
For the strength and inspiration.
Blow the conch of war and pray
Power is yours and arms are ours
You are gardener we are flowers
Shower us all in nation’s way.
Ever notice when it's dark;
There is an absent of light;
Have you ever embarked;
To travel through the beveling clouds;
Shadowed and silver lined walls;
Basically at awe, no eyes can penetrate;
In awe we reiterate, captive by the shadow of the darkness prowls;
when things go wrong;
I can't see myself
In the darkness long;
I move on, until I become a flower of the Light;
Have you been encapsulated and enclosed behind walls;
Darken by the four corners and six walls;
Can't see at all;
traveling while encased in beveled clouds;
Purple, blue and black shadows with no windows to open;
Basically at awe, no eyes can penetrate;
Get me out of here tired of being held captive;
I can't see a thing, everything around me is dark. . .
when things go wrong;
and I'm not strong;
I can't see myself;
In the darkness long;
I move on, until I become a follower, moving
I move on, until I become
I move on, until I become a follower of the Light
No longer in the darkness now,
I can see what's right;
I am one of the followers of the light
Written by James Edward Lee Sr. (c)2017
from the anthology "Really"
Sunflower
Oh ! That Morning! Which was bright,
The sunflower inspired my strive,
Although life is like a dreadful night,
But soon the sun will shine bright,
Just turn your face towards brightening light,
Which is symbol of hope and light,
Smile of the sunflower evoked my insight,
Always turn your heart to the celestial light.
I lost my soul in a portal hole
I lost my faith in outer space
I gained a voice 3 billion light years away
transmitters track my day
My followers we are in a pilgrimage, no get away
I lost my way to the space station
I lost the plot
O i had trance like visionary i could not see the spot
I asked the spaceman which way to mars
But he just laughed at me
My judgement was indispair
I talked a lot to paranoia
And we signed in blood to destroy her
They want to own me
Disown me
U should no my followers
Now there is no turn
Just the galaxy
Where is my portal
I hitch a lift on a shooting star
And land in psychiatry
The old poets haunt me
they taunt me from the shadows
following every keystroke I type -
they’re critical of phrases,
they demand narrower themes
and mock the very clichés they invented.
I remind these frightful spirits of how tenuous
life was, how I’m blindly living these experiences,
how prevalent desire is, how human it is to chase
the things we’re told will fulfill us, like goals and love.
I try and explain this Internet thing, how the more copious
my writings, the more people it says are following me.
How I really don’t want to sound paranoid
but as hard as I try - I don’t see anyone.
.
.
Song for this:
Too Much Time On My Hands by Styx
Reelin' In The Years by Steely Dan
As eve descends upon the light land
blinds and drapes shut none see no one can
the wind softly howls the streetlights shudder
inside the house we assemble the band
looking at the map this is the plan:
we pick the lock and slaughter the man
his guards will fight to their very last breath
we must kill the prophet's line in the sand
from the building we tip-toed on out
our best disguise came from the puffed clouds
the rain poured as we walked to the gold fort
at our destination there was a crowd
the clairvoyant was preaching quite loud
dripping wet his followers all bowed
he pointed at us and asked our mission
we simply stared refusing to be cowed
the swords were raised the battle was fought
throats slit guts hang as the seer was caught
pleading to me why must you shed my blood
for my place and people to have a spot
I stood alone in the battlefield
and entered the camp seeking to yield
the chalice of night which rings my dreams true
I am the prophet assuming the field
Yes,there'll be many troublesome days
for the true followers of Christ;
they'll be tested for their resistance...
to show others that radiant light
coming from a distant star and guide them
to a manger in Bethlehem!
It's much easier to walk miles
on barefoot,to reach that very humble place,
where little Jesus peacefully lies;
if a mighty king lived in a fancy palace,
like Herod the Great,
and be guarded by soldiers
with steady watchful eyes...
wouldn't it be more glorious
to be listening to choruses
of joyful angels,
and see baby Jesus smile?
It's so rewarding to cross
the desert without an oasis...
to behold the face of Jesus!
Yes, there'll be more uneasy moments
for the true followers of Christ to persuade
the unbelievers,to lean on love and make it
the fortress of their strength,
and build on it an ageless faith;
if they choose to believe without doubts,
they'll have more insight and confidence:
how easy it'll be to fight their battles!
It's much nobler to praise Him
than being deceived and be lost;
and His name is only spoken by
the true followers of Christ
who constantly seek him out,
while others crumble into the dust
and, without ever knowing His love, die!
With all the thoughts that stream through my mind,
I write down on paper anything I can find.
When I display them here for everyone to see,
I hope they can be considered writes of quality.
There are many new followers to see what I write.
I try to contribute much during any day or night.
For all the critical and kind comments,
I wish to convey all of my sincerest compliments.
My open letter to my followers
Thank you,
Thank you
Cheers
Ta
Yours Sincerely
Kind Regards
I appreciate each and every 1 of
you so very much
In fact i do not know what i would
do without you
Your time your comments
Inspiration and input
Make this all worth it
So here's to all of you
Once again thanking you all
My Poetic Friend's
For lending me a friendly ear
And picking me up with a positive comment
When i was trodden and downbeat
And the only friends i could turn to
Who could truly understand
Were you my Poetrysoup followers