Best Give Them A Hand Poems | Poetry

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But For You

But For You

You tagged me 
And said such nice things
I’m at a loss for words
Perhaps I need to call for help 
Won’t you help me choose
Joseph S., Carol B., Tami M., Stella S.,
Mike J., Vince S., Stacy R., Lainie G.
Maggie O., Lynn M .and Michaela P.
Who, oh who should it be?

I know! I know the perfect selection
Won’t you all join with me,
I introduce to you my Friends
Our very own ' Poetrysoup Origination.'
For without them we might never have met.
So while they take the stage
Let’s all give them a hand, and say 
“Our thanks to you and God Bless.”

                                          Cile Beer

Copyright © Marycile Beer | Year Posted 2007

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Society's Invisible people

Listen to poem:
She sat on the pavement as the world walked by 
She's just another  vagrant not a mum  a daughter or wife
Claiming state benefits and living the high  life ?
Sat on the pavement , a  discharged mental patient .

She sat on a park bench as the world walked by 
The office she once managed on the skyline
A bottle of cheap merlot gripped in her hand
sat on the park bench, just another  alcoholic hitting the wine

She's sat in the squat, drug syringe in hand 
with a twinge of regret she injects her right  arm
as the cries of her baby  can be heard in a far of room
Sat in her squat, just a drug addict hitting the highs. 

invisible people all need to be  helped 
A simple good morning is all that it takes
a free coffee a sandwich or even a pound
they are people with feeling, lets give them a hand  .   

26042016  comp entry  the invisible people I think of are real,just ignored by society and left to drown in their addictions 

COMP ENTRY 24042016

Copyright © stephen pennell | Year Posted 2016

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The Tomb

Time is serenading a soulless march
September sings mournful, parched tomb
Lies untouched in the bleeding hearts crying out
For redemption and hearing a requiem no doubt

Iniquity without solace, truth waved bye
Long ago and we suffer  and die
As vapid pleonasms offer no comfort
To troubled minds and souls, now come forth

Receive the blessings found in this tomb
Reciprocity of love and truth now looms
Across the sky when you enter here and help
The impecunious muster, give them a hand

Love your brother young man, for this tomb
In its glory and blazing irascible light dooms
Evil's plans of vile treachery, blindsides the
Buried bile of biblical mockery so confided and...
Entombed eternal

"Become who you were born to be, not who you've allowed yourself to become."

Copyright © Tim B | Year Posted 2011

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A Homeless Man Named Sam- Part 3

He’d had a hard life, with lots of worries and many medical bills to pay
 It all started he said, when his wife became ill, on that sad, spring day in May
 He tried to keep it all together for her, so she wouldn’t have to worry 
She was so sick and frail, then her mind slowly became very blurry
 She hung on for her life, but over time her memory slowly began to fade away
 “It was such a long hard time”, he said, “Then an Angel took her home on a warm July day”
My heart was breaking as I pensively sat, listening to him quietly talk
 With tears in our eyes, we sat together, then I asked if we could go for a walk
 “People always pass me by,” he said, “As if I’m not even standing there”
 “You’re the only one,” said he, “Who’s taken the time to even show you care”
 “I don’t want their sorrow or pity”, he said, “Just some friendly care and love”!
 “I lost my wife and my life, when an Angel took her from above”
 “Never a tear in their eyes, or a friendly smile, never offering to lend a hand”
 “What if I was an angel?” he said, “Sent from God and no one lent me their hand”?
After we left that cafe on that hot day in September 
I found a tiny emblem of an angel in my jacket pocket Something he must have left for me in order to remember 

Let this be a real good lesson to all of us, as a test of our brotherly love
 You never know if that homeless beggar is an angel sent from above
 I always think this to myself whenever I see a person in need
 “Are they an angel unaware looking to me for a helpful deed”?
Stop and listen to the call you hear, the one your heart’s been given
 Help those you see, take up their cross help them while you’re still living
 Whenever passing by someone you see in need, try to let go of your greed
 Stop and heed your heart, give them a hand and do them a helpful deed.
 It’s been three weeks now, since I’ve seen Sam standing on that street
 I've been so worried I stopped and asked many others that I meet
 “Has anyone seen that man named Sam, who stands alone on this corner”?
 When no one seemed to know, I asked my friend, that small café owner
He told me that he’d seen Sam just the other day
 “It seemed odd”, he said, “But he never even looked my way”
 A couple days later, I happened to read a short story in our local news
 It told of a homeless man named Sam, where they’d found only his clothes and shoes

Copyright © anne p. murray | Year Posted 2012

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Homeless -The Monchielle Style


The homeless have no home 
They need a place to live 
They got no food to eat 
Some want to work but can't 
They live out there in street 

The homeless have no home 
Sleep in cartoon boxes 
Many under bridge live
Folks feel contempt for them 
Homeless need to survive

The homeless have no home 
They roam streets day and nights
In towns and cities you see
Folks reject them, need help 
Give them a hand they plea

The homeless have no home 
Are hopeless, have nothing 
Some trapped by drugs, crime 
They're someone's child, brother 
They need help all the time. 

Dorian Petersen Potter 
aka ladydp2000 


~Authors Notes:

The "Monchielle" is a poetry form or style created by Jim T. Henriksen.

Copyright © Dorian Petersen Potter | Year Posted 2016

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The Reason for the Season


Christmas is on the horizon
There's magic in the air
Santa Claus and his elves
Have many toys to share

They solicit Frosty the Snowman
To come give them a hand
But he's too busy romping
In a Winter Fairy Land

In numerous houses everywhere
Folks are trimming the tree
With twinkling lights and ornaments
All so lovely to see

There's the sound of jingle bells
And children on their sled
Racing down the hillside
Each wanting to be ahead

But wait, there's more to Christmas
Than what is mentioned here
The Birth of the Christ Child
Is quickly drawing near

Christ is the reason for the season
Sleigh bells and Rudolph are fun
But let's turn our eyes upon Jesus
Because He is God's Only Son

Unable to bold the requested 10 words but all words are included in poem

Copyright © Curtis Moorman | Year Posted 2016

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The blessed month of Ramadan is here
Casting its shadows upon us
A chance to purify our hearts and soul
So with devotion we keep our fast
It’s for us to strengthen our souls
This is the most important month of all
Many will heed and hear the call 
And some of us will go astray and fall

No one was born perfect 
But we are given the right to choose
Some times you try your best for years
And in one moment of weakness you lose

And you go down a brighten road 
That glitters as if it’s paved with gold
And are guilty of following the light
Knowing at the end we will lose out soul

But No one is immune from stumbling
And pointing a finger will be to mean
We all will sin many times in our lives
For we all are just human beings

And the one and only god is merciful
Ramadan is a gift of mercy to mankind
To cleansed ourselves of past wrongs
In this month what we seek we will find

The holy month of Ramadan 
Is not just only for Muslims
For god didn’t created religions
He created people to follow him

My father was like the perfect Muslim
One of the best men to walk this world
Says god don’t judge you for your religion
It’s for what’s in your heart ands soul

My father could be how sick
He would never miss a day of fasting
Or a night going to the mosque
No matter how hard outside is raining

Every day I think of my father
Especially the holy month of Ramadan
He just sets the perfect example
That we follow the best that we can

Lately I’ve stumbled and fallen down
So I sit in a dark corner writing poem
And I keep saying my prayers in silence
Hoping one day god will answer them

For those who can walk the straight line
May Allah bless you in this month of Ramadan
But don’t look down on the ones who can’t
Say bismilllah and give them a hand 

Ramadan is the holy month
That god reveal the noble Quran 
The meaning of Islam is peace
To end this poem I say “salaam

Copyright © kasim ishmael | Year Posted 2013

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Lost Free Will

We are all a proud Canadain people,
But as of late, I dont like what i see,
There is no more debate on certain things,
We are just simply told, this is how its going to be.

Prices on everything is going out of control,
With no end in sight.
No one even seems to care,
Or even put up a fight.

We follow along like lost sheep,
Waiting for someone to stand up and say,
Ok.Ok. enough is enough, we cant take no more,
Its time this Gouverment moved in a different way.

At each election , we are promised this and that,
Things will get better they say,
But for those who cant find a job,
It gets harder to live, day by day.

The welfare line keeps growing and growing,
Because there are no jobs to be had.
For a father of five young mouths to feed,
Makes his heart feel awful sad.
I think its time this Gouverment stood up and say,
To the rich people of this land,
You made your money of poor peoples back,
Now it time to give them a hand.

But like most Gouverments , nothing will be done,
Unless we ALL stand up and say,
We put you into power to help the PEOPLE , 
Not just the rich along the way.

Copyright © Alan Fitz | Year Posted 2008

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Duty Does Call

Duty Does Call

Veterans are people who represent us all

As each and every day of duty does call

Fighting for freedom defending out land

Ensuring all is properly planned and manned.

They lean against their rifles as they pray

Then under a tank or vehicle sleep or lay

Adequately serving to cover their head

And continually being cold in their bed.

Cries of tears come to each of their eyes

An anguished felling makes them realize

War has been hell and will never forget

And out all their emotions they now let.

Back home, people for them will be waiting

While they still have been contemplating

Should they reenlist or go back to school

All of their resources together must pool.

Military experience makes minds expand

Still worry who can give them a hand

After back to civilian life they have been

Who would want to do it all over again?

James Thomas Horn

Retired Veteran

Copyright © James Horn | Year Posted 2014

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Bones I watch once a week
So that I can see.
Creepy crawlies everywhere
Plus a mystery.

I gained some luck just recently
And get to watch it seven.
They air it now every night
I think I must be in heaven.

Hot cops and scientists
Do not doubt their smarts.
They pull a apart every clue
It all tugs at your heart. 

Bones found from years ago
Without a name or face.
People dead for oh so long
Looking for their race. 

Romance blooms between the ones
That dig and search and find.
Stress gets to to the point
Where no one is too kind. 

Why can't they just give in
To the lust between the two.
Partners that work side by side
They are lonely and are blue. 

So instead of digging for love
They dig deep in the sand
For fragments small and large
Have to give them a hand. 

In the end I must say
Bones is just my style.
Detectives solving mysteries
Always makes me smile. 


Copyright © kristen bruni | Year Posted 2010

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Listen Up Brothers

I look at art and I see beauty.
I read poems and reveal it too.
I walk among nature and feel it.
I witness it all, but I don’t know you.

Women, God’s handiwork, tough to read
They have plagued mankind for years.
We can love, appreciate and worship them.
We fall victim and are brought to tears.

Women are not objects, but objectified.
They can be overly suggestive, yet pure.
They can assault our being, yet we stay.
When it comes to them, we always want more.

We can defy them, but later need them.
We can hear their breaths, hear each beat.
When it comes to lust, oh so very often,
We also tend to grovel at women’s feet.

Men act like fools when around them,
Stuttering thoughts that never come clean.
We’d like to say how we love, need them.
But have not the words to say what we mean.

God was generous with the beauty He gave,
A variety of different colors and even size.
I wish He gave men the smarts, though,
So we can see women clearly in our eyes.

Let’s not waste time, trying to figure out.
Let’s just admire, respect, and cherish them all.
Let’s just open and share what we’re feeling
For women are needed, without them we fall.

Many of them have fallen victim.
Support those who have, give them a hand.
Give them not pity, that is not wanted,
Give them your heart that would be grand.

Copyright © Michael Degenhardt | Year Posted 2008