Best Force Out Poems
You grow so fast, already showing glimpse of awesome creativity
and transform discoveries from the industrious nature of your observations
so squat at my feet and raise your attentive head up high
to be equipped for this compulsory journey oh sweet creature of my seed.
My hands of your molding and chastisement
are already the processing engine of your refinement
my strong willed mind and love soaked heart
complete the stages as you hold steadfast
to the train I’ve prepared for you
Listen attentively as I perform this segment of my duties
and lets take a tour round the routes of wisdom
and gallivant the landscape of experience
while I pedal your feet and smoothen your soles
Seasoned flavored virtues are an armour through which
life’s shots are overcomed
and a colourful behaviour becomes a saviour in times of need
Labor not your whole life in chasing vapour
for out of vigour, flour is made from wheat,
Bread from flour, but all for a time of enjoyment and satisfaction
Guilty syndrome is exhibited when a person answers unasked questions
and don’t force out jokes from your head
or else people will think your sense of humor is on a life support
Sunset is no accuse for the clock to stop running ad infinitum
thus, an excuse is like a punctured umbrella
it’ll still not stop the invasion of raindrops
Your natural desires are borderless, but your ability
to strongly control them is what makes you distinct
from other species in the animal kingdom
Love has no prefix, suffix or adjective
it is what it is and as powerful as
causing natural instincts to be abdicated in favour of kindness
just for the carnivore to embrace abstinence.
He who begins a tale becomes its reference
don’t say what you cannot defend in court
rumour is a bad odour which spreads beyond the neighbourhood
and puts a noisy siren on your personality
Bad companionship will lead you to the garbage
and corrupt friends will join others
to marvel at the immortality of your adopted stupidity
Wash your face every morning with these words
and take your every meal with these lines
then would they be spices
to which your life is preserved.
Categories:
force out, blessing, child, education, encouraging,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Years and years have been lost to time, thousands of days,
nights, and morrows seen and despised out of immense ache,
The Juliet of my early youth is no more, transformed into a
stranger, yet my love dies not! Though I plead and beg for
her to recall and rekindle the love affair of many moments ago,
She bears news of her plans of wedded bliss to another, news that
I curse my eyes for seeing, ears for hearing, and heart for knowing
is true! With desolate heart and soul, corrupted mind, and disregard
of future as that of a mad man, I fall to my knees and scream,
"God and heaven alike, I defy and deny you both! For no
father of mine would rip asunder my motivation for humanity!
Nor does any paradise remain alive without her presence!"
Be it his decree that I hurt for eternity both alive and deceased
then be it my decree that his life and love never was!
Thus I have become what I am, with no rue nor shame,
For I am not the tender Romeo that once lived and breathed,
No more do I dwell in her heart or mind, and no more do I wish
any essence of a Romeo dwell inside my soul, for my Juliet
is buried and lost in abundances of new days. No day, nor night,
nor morrow is good for me, Sans trust, Sans faith, Sans morality,
Sans love do I wish to have or hold, Dead but still breathing I am,
Condemned to memories and dreams of elated yesteryears,
denying my own will, but loyal to that promise which cannot
be broken by even the cold lifelessness of heartache, I shriek,
and yawp, and yell, and raise my voice beyond the sting of pain, as
I wake each night, bleeding the same sound from my lips,
"Juliet!, Juliet!!, Juliet!!!" Repeated until my eyes are dry and
my voice is drained to the most silent of whispers, I force out,
over tears, over ache, over agony, over all, in one last breath,
"Juliet"
Categories:
force out, dedication, depression, devotion, girlfriend-boyfriend,
Form:
Free verse
A long those dark, dank corridors underneath the earth, an anomaly is growing.
N ebulous in it's beginnings, an as yet unknown species prepares to arise
E longated in it's skeletal structure, slight and slender, they slither about
W ily in nature, these unique elusive creatures are prone to evade the light.
S linking about at night with iridescent, bold bright eyes, they warily
P eek and peer at people, pacing about in dark, dreary alleyways
E xamining interactions, obsessed in their observations, in order to
C onnect and draw upon human energy, like sophisticated sponges.
I ntent on leeching the life force out of human beings, these humanoids wish to
E merge and spike world leaders' drinks with explosive laxatives, thus
S triking and stalling them on their "thrones", subsequently taking over our world!
Written on 2/23/2016
Categories:
force out, science fiction,
Form:
Acrostic
A practical man with a talent for wood
viewed each morning as an omen for good
He tilled the land wisely
and preached the goodness of God
but as each day passed there was much to portend
his land had grown evil and God was displeased
one day God called out to him and said
I will destroy this earth of animal and humankind
and you will be cited with your family united
to construct a craft that I see fit
space for two species of each to share your ark
and hark
there will be a flood of great dimension
and it will not cease until all life is gone
As time passed on it began to rain
uncessantly with tremendous waves
overlaying the mounts
extinguishing life as the ark floated on
a raven sent out but never alit and soon it was gone
then a dove returned with a leaf in its beak
and left again but never returned
Noah then knew there was land yet to seek
months had passed and the earth became dry
he directed his family out from the ark
and the animals came also two by two
with Noah, God had made a pact
never to destroy but just to endure
for the manner of men needed much to explore
day and night will never cease
let us prepare a fabulous feast
to rejoice in new life riddance to the old
and embrace in its warmth and force out the cold
Contest
Categories:
force out, faith,
Form:
Epic
Noah and the Flood 4-3-14
A practical man with a talent for wood
viewed each morning as an omen for good
He tilled the land wisely
and preached the goodness of God
but as each day passed there was much to portend
his land had grown evil and God was displeased
one day God called out to him and said
I will destroy this earth of animal and humankind
and you will be cited with your family united
to construct a craft that I see fit
space for two species of each to share your ark
and hark
there will be a flood of great dimension
and it will not cease until all life is gone
As time passed on it began to rain
uncessantly with tremendous waves
overlaying the mounts
extinguishing life as the ark floated on
a raven sent out but never alit and soon it was gone
then a dove returned with a leaf in its beak
and left again but never returned
Noah then knew there was land yet to seek
months had passed and the earth became dry
he directed his family out from the ark
and the animals came also two by two
with Noah, God had made a pact
never to destroy but just to endure
for the manner of men needed much to explore
day and night will never cease
let us prepare a fabulous feast
to rejoice in new life riddance to the old
and embrace in its warmth and force out the cold
Deluge Contest
Sponsored by Julia Ward
August 26,2016
Categories:
force out, power,
Form:
Epic
(With apologies to Ernest Lawrence Thayer, author of "Casey at the Bat".)
The Mudville nine and Casey have their chance for sweet revenge;
They play today in Dirtburg, their misfortune to avenge.
Two mighty Casey homers have us leading, five to four.
The bottom of the ninth arrives: three cheers for three outs more!
The lead-off slugger, Bugsy, flies to right: out number one.
But Smith and Jones both single; now the worrying’s begun.
So when our pitcher, Nelly, loads the bases with a walk,
In shaken insecurity we hush our hopeful talk.
We badly need a strikeout—better yet, a double play.
But cleanup batter Brutus may have something more to say.
Old Nelly sure looks nervous as he winds up for the pitch,
And Brutus eyes him coolly, and we see his muscles twitch.
And now our hearts stop beating as we hear the bat’s report.
And ahh, relief—we breathe again; he’s grounded straight to short!
The shortstop throws to second for the force: out number two.
The easy lob to first will end this rematch, right on cue.
The Dirtbag Coliseum is erupting in a din:
Uproarious cheers reverberate as Smith and Jones jog in.
The joyful, jubilant half-gibes behind each haughty face
Proclaim our Casey still a bum; he’s overthrown first base.
Categories:
force out, baseball, funny, humor, humorous,
Form:
Narrative
Squeezed in the middle
Toothpaste force out of tubing
Awaits the toothbrush
Categories:
force out, health
Form:
Senryu
No baby smiles on birth
Once tender
In a beautiful
World
all was peaceful
Water running from
Her body to keep
The tender alive
Day by day
The tender grow
With no stress
Oh The tender feed
From her body
What ever so come
there was
No hunger
Neither anger
There was enough
Oh there was no
Laws or rules
Only that of nature
Was for the tender
Day by day
The tender grow
With no needs
What a paradise
Of love
The tender is
So well protected
From here womb
For she is a woman
Mother of creation
Day by day
Till the 9th mouth
Time for birth
Here the tender
is force out
From this beautiful
World
From the womb
So peaceful
Birth is on to life
As the tender
Is now a baby
Out from this peaceful
World (womb)
The baby cry for
Likely He or she
is force out
From heaven
Like is obvious
You see
No baby smiles on birth
Categories:
force out, africa, baby, cheer up,
Form:
Epic
Venice, Italy, is a crazy shamozzle of new and old
Where junk, graffiti, decay, stunning beauty,
history and culture poverty and opulence, all reside side by side, bobbing.
Water dominates the landscape, canals and waterways replace all the roads
Everything is carried by boat, food, people, garbage, produce, industrial supplies.
Ambulances, fire engines, delivery trucks and police cars are all replaced by boats.
The disorderly rusty ferries ply the waterways, jostling along with gondolas, magnificent polished wooden water taxis,
Occasionally the historic scene is ruined by modern fiber glass runabouts
with huge outboard motors completely out of place.
Next comes barges with cranes, garbage collecting boats, delivery and construction supply boats, and the many service vehicles.
Grab a table beside the canals and watch the parade of boats old and new jostle and bobble on by.
Walk through the tiny crowded streets and enjoy the kaleidoscope of people of many cultures enjoying themselves.
There are many surprises. Tiny shops with feet in large glass tanks being cleaner by fish.
Everywhere there are places to explore and things to enjoy.
Looming off in the distance you may see huge cruise liners dwarfing the buildings,
These vessels are seemingly populated by ants, as the ships are so big.
The ancient church bells in Venice chime as the ships depart arrive and depart, in homage to the new god of tourism.
The Palace art is simply overwhelming, overloading your senses.
Ancient art is everywhere and often ignored.
Venice is beautiful, but one gets the impression that all the photographs taken in Venice
are gradually sucking out the life force out of the structures, hastening their decay.
There are so many dimensions and experiences, places to explore that you never get tired of Venice.
The more times you visit the better you will like it and the more you will find to do and see.
You have to laugh and ignore the hassles, the jostling crowds, the regimented crowded ferry system,
the pushing and shoving of the crowds in the tiny streets,
simply laugh and have fun.
Venice is crazy, nice, with diverse multi-faceted attractions and lots of things to do.
You will love it!
Venice Trice is Nice.
Categories:
force out, adventure, travel,
Form:
Free verse
The snatcher of a growing childhood
converting adolescent innocence to adult desperation
now wears trending covering of power and glamour
with mind blowing colours fading away from one wash
coming from a shredded past is this trapped thunder
having an attitude felt in different temperatures
and character molded by a thousand question marks.
An uncle by blood, a friend at heart
a heart which announces all kinds of delicious meals
but serves in actuality spicy foamy vomit
shows qualities seemingly classmates to humanity
but are wholesomely baptized in the dead sea
the chilling atmosphere is no camouflage for this freezing fire
bathed in his urine, yet now declared clean.
Time has grown beards and once again, their eyes meet
she's expected to kick the whistle for his fame to linger
his shadows, too weighty for this new image he carries
smiles manifesting with a lazy energy
knocking the head of every feminine soul
his moving up has considered these stains beautiful
with his sleeping crimes far from societal righteousness
whoever he has beaten, should be a celibate prostitute
and kick the whistle, never letting it reach the lips.
His sunflower is blue and honey, bitter
letting the world know this, translates to singing hymns to the dead
she stands her ground to open his history's black chamber
he's the criminal but the public stands as her poisonous jury
she chews this bone with rubber teeth but never stops
the truth unveils but to noisy ears
to let all know he's an adult born of a child.
He's tenacious but not on a jean underwear
one more little voice adds to force out a moving plant
the anthill is broken as they come out of all holes
one time preys now unforgiving predators
to show a personality as real as a neckless head
resting on boneless shoulders
the whistle has been blown rather than kicked
as justice and fairness become first cousins to life.
Categories:
force out, anger, celebrity, character, child
Form:
Free verse
Your going to write poetry
do so with your soul.
Take a deep breadth.
Breathe out the words as a whole
Your inner self will be revealed
more than you can guess.
Write as it enters your mind
or it will be lost.
Don't strive to be a Tennyson
or Wordsworth and such.
Look around you
at the things you love to touch.
Write simply
don't force out the words.
You will soon become a poet
maybe that sounds absurd.
Let it flow, let it flow
the magic will be weaved.
May not be a masterpiece....it!s
something you alone achieved
Penned 6 June 2015
Categories:
force out, words, writing,
Form:
Rhyme
There is a minority force out there
one of evil and intent
disguised by enchantment and empathy,
within surging tides of coercion
steers one’s ever defiling poetry
of the predator,
those that crave to share one’s shadow
and constantly demand on return
a challenge to please one.
Yet
with words created in a
cynical brief of heartlessness from
gardens of perversity, cultivated
in domains of lies, untruth,
when a trigger-happy progression of rapidness
perfumed in eloquent penetration
aimed at one’s very soul.
Every
word every stanza to tug at the recipient
being delivered in poetry humaneness,
inflicting the aroma of fragrance to entice gullibility
before the enforcement to the nurtured
of a mature kind,
and the eventual trial of tempting innuendoes.
With
defloration complete,
here one reaches the pivot of reaction
the highway crossroads of decision,
a last chance to tread the right road
some will, some will not
those to fall into another’s perverted obscenity
to be ensnared, then scarred for life!
© Harry J Horsman 2013
Categories:
force out, angst,
Form:
Free verse
denied creation once sighted beard man
that seperate then his girlfriend danced
strength from far away for me to find a fighter
memories but nothing because campionship
of awhile girl known was the time with west darkest
for sure, native soul shades punished nature
link slave let past come a lack of want i could tell
died i been accepted why its been a distinct treasure
alone to only- let a want to go greek
because i force out ghast genius for a pick me
used one love used road and smart for being fun of
two relation splitself dove my body is fulled runt
go get back spit arm gifted he came and flated tires
humble splintered denmim she is lolipop
knowing sees worth tea leaf full whole grain of milk iced
been wanted for freedom is like a feather on a underskin
rich ghost chains heaven flesh ways much to a flower
no other made home blooms to have essence a ton
even tough hes not old it is compared to a feeling
a bold forgotten reason cold soft light wax heart
Categories:
force out, allegory, music, me,
Form:
Blank verse
The accursed are brave in this place,
where fear cannot arrest them.
As for me, I stand exposed
to the withering darkness that beats me down.
In these darkened hollows
prayers to God are still offered
within the diocese of this battered mind.
And stripped of varnish, my welt-ridden body
struggles to barricade against the constant
thrashes thrown up by the dark.
Yet, as a phalanx of illumination
makes its charge toward the dark,
the time has come to push back the night
by the lighted coals of the Seraphim.
And my lips are left to mouth the sounds
of coloured hues, as each breath is forced
from my lungs, and my voice finds the tolerant
tones of dawns luminescence .
Once more I have found my eyes.
And my mouth has gained its purpose,
to scream a challenge at the darkness
and be rid of this souless carcass.
And force out the few, who thrive
in the valley of my dark-day soul.
Categories:
force out, dark, depression, life, light,
Form:
Free verse
what lurks behind the shadows takes refuge in the
places that one cannot speak without a lawyer and
a place to stay when the going gets rough in the
shadows right out there buried & bustling without
restraint without subjection to the parameters in
which the most of us dwell & operate so obediently
on a daily basis throughout the utter insane boring
mundane nature of everyday existence & whether
or not you yourself choose to abide by these lines
drawn round your own individual life is of course
no one’s decision but your own but know that the
crayons in your hand are your own crayons and
there is no one alive who can make you color within
the lines if you feel that you don’t want to there is
no force out there that can make you sharpen the tip
with the convenient little crayon-sharpener that
resides on the back of the crayola box & of course
there’s no one out there who can make you draw on
lined paper, graphed paper, or even construction
paper for that matter if you want to you have the
right to draw all over everything around you the
chair you are sitting in the walls the floor the
pavement outside all over your clothes the windows
as you walk down the street the street itself because
who is going to stop you the worse that will happen
is that they will smack a label on you and lock you
up somewhere where the first thing that they will
do is pump you full of free drugs and place you in
a craft room anyway where you will receive a
pile of crayons and the whole process will start all
over again fear not those that want you to use your
crayons “correctly” for they cannot truly harm you
they can only wish silently inside themselves where
they think that all their little secrets stay hidden
that they could be just exactly like you and live in
the moment coloring whatever you feel like with
these beautiful crayons and leave the rest of life
alone to its beautiful shadows its wondrous “liars”
& “cheaters” & “thieves” & “murderers” & folks
that never for a second agreed to live by anyone else’s
rules except their own who let the untalented
uninteresting doorknobs of history decide in their
wake their value to society.
Categories:
force out, lifebeautiful, beautiful, life, drug,
Form:
Free verse