Best Greed Poems | Poetry

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New Greed Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Greed poems are below this new poems list.

Greed by Naik, Zeel
Greed by Everett, Raiven
When folly weds greed by Ochwo-Oburu, Solomon
Mania Of Greed by mara, amelie
Corporate Greed With A Vain Societal Infiltration System by Vitale, Mario
Greed love by sharma, Kishan
Greed Has a Dinner Party by stiles, terri
American Greed by parker, cs
GREED by U.D Palawon , Sunita
- The Greed Culture - by Smile, Sunshine
Greed by Atkins, Jaquay
Infectious Greed by Robinson Jr., Freddie
Greed by padmore, Robert
Hard Work Vs Greed by Fraser, Luayne
GREED by Dutta, Anisha
A Study in Greed by Mahoney, Donal
Greed by Ochwo-Oburu, Solomon
GREED IS HERE TO STAY by Ashton, Darryl
greed kills by nnoli, richard
greed today by rainwater, ashley

View all new Greed Poems

The Best Greed Poems

 
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To Be With You -

I love you,
that's not hard for me to say,
its not a prediction, or a reflection, it just is
a motion in my heart's ocean,
an ocean named Odyssey
a color called True For You,
I don't want to hide that from you like sparkle from a jewel,
hiding love is a difficult game,
an invisible flame starving for the fame of your name,
and sometimes love can get lost in the playing fields,

My soul can't wait 'till another lifetime to spark on your's,
my body won't survive the well wishes of Eternity's elasticity,
the gravity of my greed for you will not escape the orbit of obsession,

I can't afford another lifetime, another baptism in Beauty's bemusement,
Time will not outflank my love for you,
graves & guesses, epitaphs & epiphanies would only bruise my passion,
a will power refusing to withstand the winks of the clock towers torment,
the thick wick of my wonderlust must combust now or never,
we need to turn winter into spring,
flip silver into gold,
to make touch our bread,
push pink into red -

J.A.B.


Copyright © Justin Bordner | Year Posted 2014

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No Reservation

You Are Not Invited

--Latching onto my soul without an invitation--
Elements around my shore expose more than air
--Playing with fire is not a game you will win--

----
Silently she swarms in like a leech, 
Feeding and sucking from the wounds my pain left behind.
She came inside: "Uninvited!"
Here have a drink, and die!
Taste the water drips that sail across my lips 
Plodding vigorously in the open air of her unwanted hostility
Forbidden as one, I noticed her aura a sickening light
Imprisonment that haunted smoke around her own imperfections
The hate and envy, she lives in resides airborne
The sound that she have summoned up hunger  
Brought me near the edge of everything
Feel my pain, a touch of impurities    
Tainted, infected, poisoned passion, her face disguised
Surrender toward serenity, the lighthearted woman I am inside 
She will never take, my full eternal grace
It’s time to reveal that blazing fire I hide
Drown her from the false flown sorrows of gust
Hold her hideous head under water--- burn her false fire out

Never will I turn my back and watch her muster them broken lids
Lungful of lies poisons the wind that flows from her snake like voice
Maneuvering the skies, scheming that snatch in
Like a viper twisting its unmatched curves, 
I strike, like a pyromaniac  --A burning match 
Allowing her to taste a part of the air I breathe 
A waste in the breeze her insecurities 
Trying to destroy what she can't be, what she can't see
At the end, blustery weather will remind her of the sea inside me,

YOU! The Angel, who crawls around like a shadow
Gorging its way into the heart with a charm of greed
Twisting reality hoping nobody sees its true sick identity
Slandering my name as the master of evil and manipulative
Marking my territory, warning others of a cold draft
Grasping the beauty that glows from my soul 
There it stood on the ledge UNINVITED
The devil walked and took my shoes 

:)


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013




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John Lennon


On the day  that John Lennon died,  people were just going  about their business  as they did every day.  Mark David Chapman  was reading  Catcher In The Rye  void of his holy self.  He would have had to  Imagine there’s no heaven.  John took the elevator  down from his room  at peace with his belief  that there was  no hell below us.  He stepped out  on that fateful day  over him,  over everyone,  above us only sky. On the day that  John Lennon died,  people where just going  about their business  as they did every day.  Imagine, all the people  living for today.  Chapman talked to Lennon. Just before he killed him. He was singing "imagine  there’s no countries  because it isn’t hard to do." Chapman shot his  hollow point bullets,  without cause,  there was nothing  to kill or die for  and no religion too.  What a senseless killing,  how senseless killing is.  I imagine all the people  living life in peace. John fell to the ground,  a pool of blood beneath him.  A preacher on a soap box  unaware of the horrific act  that had taken place  was spewing words   that never belonged  to his soul but filled  the tin cup he was holding.  He yelled loudly,  ‘you may say that I'm a dreamer  but I'm not the only one’   a woman in the crowd hummed  ‘I hope someday you'll join us.’  A teenage couple under  their breath followed with  ‘and the world will be as one.’  Amen! They say when the police arrived  Chapman was reading his book.  Imagine no possessions,  I wonder if you can. The Detectives did not wait  for an ambulance. They rushed John Lennon  to the hospital. They weren't looking for credit;  they had no need for greed.  The preacher had left  with his tin cup full,  no need for more or hunger. At the hospital the air was  like most emergency departments,  people comforting people  who themselves needed comforting.  A brotherhood of man. In a hospital with its tragedies  life is more than real  you don’t need to imagine  all the people sharing all the world.  It just is. You can hear  their hearts  beating in tune,  singing  ‘You may say that I'm a dreamer  But I'm not the only one  I hope someday you'll join us  And the world will live as one.’ 07~11~2014 Maurice Yvonne Sponsor: Kelly Deschler Contest Name: I Love Rock n Roll


Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014

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Whisper Soft Into The Night

Distant prayers echo through a lilac sky
light flickers brilliantly in angelic eyes
a yellow crocheted blanket falls to the floor
and a growing heart winks inside.

Kindness breeds kindness in a precious heart
and a kindred spirit lifts and flies free. 
helping our fellow man in need  
forgiving selfishness and greed

Open up your heart and mind
another child feeds a hungry soul
for one who loves to love, the greatest
blessing of all, is seeing the one you love, love

Whisper soft into the night my dire want
let the rains wash down a growing grace
carry off grandeur into a sequel led estate
as a simple smile adorns a very humble face


Copyright © Tim Smith | Year Posted 2017

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Indian Girl

--Virginia Slim--

Different eyes, the same world 
Ancient skin, dirty Indian Girl 
Smokey, eyes, exotic raven hair 
---Now listen to  the colors, of transformation, 
On the day she was born, the wind blew in, 
A blessing ---her soul, fallen from the heavens
A  gorgeous puff of smoke, Miss Virginia Slim

Able to walk the world with an open mind, she twirls
Pocahontas, one of her many names. 
She carves, and climbs on trees, this little Indian Girl, 
Her feathers ride with the wind, against her red titian skin
Daughter of Chief Powhatan, a powerful tribal, red man 
Peace and love with the Indians of her Virginia Lands,

Many myths, many stories, maybe a mad woman, 
A new Christian, living sad poverty, a silent hero, 
Twisted tales, from savage green to ivory white religion
In her eyes, life never was about greed and skin
Her new look attained an altitude precision
Pocahontas tricked and captured, 
Set to sail another tribe, lands were taken over, 
Boat sailed out of Virginia Lands

Tribes acclaimed her to be wild and ambitious
"The naughty one," searching for admission
Native American child, before the princess, 
Her beautiful soul, a short auspicious beginning
Leaving her world, beautiful and fearless
Forgetting her roots-- From Mother Willow's Vision 
Pocahontas, the Indian Legend from, The Virginia Lands

by;PD


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014

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Devils Deadly Dime

Devils deadly dime

The sign said no grown-up at the playground.
Tripping on a penny, like a mime!
My hand is in my pocket with the dime I found.
Its all mine, I asked for the devils hand that time.
Echoes in my head, bounded by a screaming sound.
Paying for a forgotten crime,
on what comes around goes around.

A prison with greed that carries an evil musical chime.
Jumping off the merry-go-round!
Encouraged by the devil,
 the pleasure of his deadly nursery rhyme. 
Now the world is measured by my blood level.

The devils delight feasted on my youth before I hit my prime.
Bashing my mind, with thoughts implanted by evil.
Entering the day with no beauty to my sublime.
Begging him to remove this anvil!

He laughed while he cursed me with a favor for a favor.
A fallout so violently in this world not civil.
One can only lust on the taste that only he can savor.
Hanging out  by the swings wounding me with prey,
on two victims to his delicious flavor.
I climb my way to teach a lesson in hate not love.
Two siblings who always scream for each other.
Giggling as I offered each a push and a shove.
Stopping they give each other a big hug.
Defeating and proving love is a stronger disease
The devil wicked eyes looking  at me like a bug.
Clawing at my inner guts with remorse that he will win this war.
Until another day one skips the penny, 
and begs a poor fool like the devil for his dime.
Tossing heads for his tail when times hits rock bottom.
I will stray away from his deadly reaction time.
He will not own my soul so freak'em,
and his greedy deadly beg of a dime.


by;pd


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2010

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Streets of blood


Streets of blood

She stood upon the terrace high
streets of blood below
The gate left open in the night,
a dark sky threatens snow

With swine and pearls running free
her bed sheets fought the wind
A tear drop fell her worried eyes
at hate now once again

Of drawbridge wars in endless fight
to stones of castle keep
A single rose a’ bloom this dawn
as mothers come to weep

For sons of father’s destined fall,
these followed footsteps bare
Along the streets so narrow, long,
where death becomes aware

“Enough!” she shouted far and wide
“This fighting now shall end”
“Take your swords and hateful spite,
do not return again”

And lifting high her amulet
upon a staff of wood
She chanted as the stone did glow
this morning where she stood

“Of peace, let all be felt this hour
Thy breath of saddened greed
Be gone, be gone, oh beast of war
No longer doth thou feed

Ye shadows o’er a nightfall mist
Lest blood befall your hand
Beyond this tree lined sacred place
Be gone from this our land”

When then a mighty wave did flow,
the streets were cleansed of fear
And there beyond horizons call
the sunrise did appear

And where once sat a single rose, 
one thousand buds did grow
Of crimson red and silken gold,
the sweetest fragrance flow

Mothers hugged their children close
as loudly trumpets blared
The bloodied streets now white with snow
and love by all was shared

But there within the canyons lurked
cast eyes of beaded red
“I shall return to take this place
O’ ye who think me dead” 

“To once more fill yon streets with blood
of this ye can believe
No matter what the masses want,
know this, I shall not leave” 




Copyright © Chris Green | Year Posted 2016

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The Invitation

December 25th-  The Christmas Wedding

Head-to-head,
Surrounded by seasonal silver bells
Scarlet passionate pink poinsettias sit
Foliage scenery 
Entwined by Christmas and Wedding bliss
Frosty winter weather warmed up by:
Rings of “I Do!”

The eyes of Eve hide underneath a white veil
Beautiful-
A bride walking down the misty mistletoe isle
Wondering why the majestic mustang moon sank without trace?

The aroma of pine trees idle into the death-defying fog
Fine firm decorated ribbons snug unopened gifts
Desperately-
Mistletoes wait above the tenable tint threshold
Kissing and Cheering
New Christmas Vows
In her hands, a beautiful bouquet 
-Bridal flowers for the maids
Forsaken by dark dusky dullness wedding cloud
Flustering fragrance thicken the chestnut cold air
Ornaments endured dreary tears

Despising the drapes of fog
That covers the newly wed winter show
Harmony withdrew from that winter wonderland
A white gown, not meant to be
Christmas crushed by her greed
The unkind erratic earth exchanged her own silent vows
In a horrifying hoary haze
A heavy foggy breeze dropped in like debris,
Blowing her tiara dreams away
On this very exact Christmas Day

:-)
11-22-13


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013

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Plethora of Poetry

~STRIP TEASE~     Featuring:) SKAT

Silver Skimpy Ink, String, A POET DESTROYER's bling, bling
Think of me as a human ditty delicious decoration,
Something along the line of a sweet tooth temptation
Cherry tastes, between the slit of tender toast 
Fine jumble jam slams down the tongueless throat 
Dance like a diamond on The tight South Pacific Rim
I'll feed you with a slithering seductive sound
My hair soaking, -wet and wild, tonight I trim
A dulcet apple acrostic bottom, to squeeze the greed
Feathers, on top, poetic diction describing to please
At times, I'm in deep dire need of something sweet, and sour 
Endless epic words, and ode to the naked poetic world
We The Women and Men of poetry,
Reveals far more than any nudity found in a bar
It does not matter how you do it or who you are.
I'm an entertainer, of Poetry, 
The good, the bad, the freaking awesome
Don't worry, I keep my clothe On :)

---

Symbol of the spiritual Sexy SKAT Slang
--Provocative-- A slippery succulent, scrumptious kiss 
Counterparts working the tension, another arrant appetite
I am the Illuminati illusion, laminating luscious illustrated letters  
Indulging in the, satire of one stilt spoken sunset
Like a child's spiking temperature, I often throw tantrums, 
Teasing attentions, by incorporating a pole, paper and pen, 
If someone is uncomfortable with facing the fact, 
When I reveal everything, without removing my high heels
Then you must not be worldly or women and man enough 
I love to spoil and slur my scenery, using my best assets
My strength and power parallel, any unique universe 
That's how confident the audience makes me feel
We The Women and Men of poetry,
Reveals far more than any nudity found in a bar
It does not matter how you do it or who you are.
I'm an entertainer, of Poetry, 
The good, the bad, fantastic and fabulous
Don't worry, I keep my clothe On :)


~A Poet Destroyer Collaboration~


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014

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Fallen Star

I tracked along a silver trail
carved out from Earthly dust
by rays persistent in the dark 
and midnight wanderlust.

It led me to a bubbling fount
of sulfurous mud and tar; 
whereupon I chanced a glimpse
and found a fallen star. 

An ancient from celestial realms
ensnared terrestrially
dimly glowing in the murk
I heard it sing to me:

Sojourner of the moonlit way
I sense thy beating heart
I’ve travelled from infinity
now hearken ere you part.

You roam upon this infant orb, 
you draw from it thy life, 
but I sense greed and evil scorn
and no land void of strife.

I beg you tell me how it came
that creatures such as thee
have found such hatred in thy souls
to punish endlessly. 

It’s not so bad, I said out loud
we know of love as well…
as to the fate of mother Earth
I simply can’t foretell.

The ground beneath my weary feet
gave way to empty space
then all around me in the void
I saw the human race.

Starving children, ill and gaunt
were kicked by wing-tipped shoes.
Females ranging every clime
in silence nursed abuse.

In darkness men were plotting war
in light their banners raised
it mattered not which way I looked
some evil met my gaze.  

Make it stop, I beg you please!
Why poison thou my mind?
What can I do to stop all this,
is no good left to find?

Sojourner of the moonlit way
I sense thy beating heart
I’ve travelled from infinity
now hearken ere you part.

You roam upon this infant orb, 
you draw from it thy life, 
and though you’re one of many men
love in thy chest is rife.

You must return to whence you came
you must confer abroad
the goodness that within thee burns
seek first to serve the flawed.

Think on the vast expanse of space
so empty, dark and cold…
and how despite the hopeless cause
star-light you still behold.

So too might thou, if you’ll but try
endure this awful plight
for in the vast expanse of hate
love is thy shining light. 

07/16/15










Copyright © The Grahamburglar | Year Posted 2015

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A Poet with a Priceless Pen

I am poet with a priceless pen
born to burnish the beauty of men.
I wonder what mortal mirrors reflect...
For me, all races deserve respect.

I often hear the splashing of rain,
and flood rushing down the drain.
I see the petals of the morning bloom
and dawn peeping into my dusky room.

I strive to forget the tales of ages long gone
when dreams died as deeds undone.
I am a poet with a priceless pen
born to burnish the beauty of men.

I pretend to be a terrific tree
sapping the tears that betide me.
I feel old scars opening each time
my heart tends to commit new crime.

I touch the heart of the gentle moon
and worry if the Sun will shine at noon.
I cry for the youth and aged in need
and for gluttons in the grave of greed.

I hear the whispers of wealth and wisdom
flowing freely from the field of freedom...
I am a poet with a priceless pen
born to burnish the beauty of men.

I understand the chains of our choices;
frailties of our fate; our darn differences.
I say let us not preen on what is not ours,
we will leave them in the six-feat towers.

I crave a world without woes and worries;
the mortal mall of matchless memories
where everyone trades a lasting legacy...
and love is shared on the platter of mercy.

I long to see gray skies turn blue
and my sweetest dreams come true.
I am a poet with a priceless pen
born to burnish the beauty of men.


Copyright © Adeleke Adeite | Year Posted 2014

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Lifes Simplicity Maintained

You were born in a specialist clinic I was born at the front door of my house we both came into this world and survived. You’ve been eating foreign cuisines and expensive delicacies I’ve been taking porridge and traditional soups we both have grown and are a significant part of the society. You go to school in Jeeps and exotic vehicles I use public transport and finish it up with a walk we both went to learning institutions and acquired knowledge. You roll with the high and mighty and get a super model married I’m surrounded by the middle class and marries one never will be in Wikipedia we both are active in the food chain and wonderfully living our lives. You become a CEO or rather own a firm I get employed by you to run your empire we both sure need each other to function and drive. Gold and Diamonds will decorate the casket of your funeral mine may not even be worthy of a coffin, just a plain box we’ll nevertheless be dead and our chapter closed without preference. It is only a pathology when the eye gets larger than its socket, comparison cuts the muscles of esteem and gives greed a new suit, making simplicity a very complex attribute to attain and a life full of complexities a better friend to existence. Life is simple, we just make it complicated. A civil servant wants to live at par with a tycoon allowing his throat tie down the strength of his hands. Every destination has different roads, be it the highway or a rocky path. Take the one within your speed limit, the timing may show some reaching before or better than others but the most important thing is, the destination reached as achievement is decorated while life stay simple.


Copyright © Funom Makama | Year Posted 2015

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Gypsy Guy

Well, Gypsy Guy would rather die than hunker down in chains,

be ridden south with bit in mouth, or heed the hold of reins.



The ruling lot are in a spot, the boss man he complains:

“The gypsies’ soul, I can’t control, my patience wears and wanes;

they will not cede to common greed, which conquers far domains

and furtive spies and news that lies have barely baked their brains.



“But in the court of last resort the final fix remains:

in boxcar bins with violins we’ll freight them out in trains

(should one ask why, a quick reply: ‘It’s that which God ordains!’),

and in the bogs, they’ll die like dogs, and everybody gains.”


Copyright © Terry O'Leary | Year Posted 2012

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Christmas Miracle in the Ghetto (Co-written with John Moses Freeman)

Peering at the radiating faces of happy families
So much joy emanates from well-to-do children’s sparkling eyes
Wish I could replace the grief, put smiles on the faces of my sons
Without a glimmer of hope even promises of warm meals would be lies

In the brown eyes of my sons, the same eyes their mother, my wife
Sadness the sacrifice, a courageous mother giving life
So great a zest for life she sacrificed to give her sons life
But now greed hath put her seed in peril and my world in strife

No “Help Wanted” signs in the windows of Main Street’s bustling stores
The aroma of fresh bread wafts tauntingly from the bakery
With my hands in pockets, finding not even loose change
Overcome with hunger and jealousy, should I resort to thievery? 

Mind reeling, contemplating abating moral principals
Suddenly appear familiar brown eyes amid face so dear
The image of deceased wife, Spanish born eyes filled with tears
Speaking, "Abe, the Lord is gracious, walk until head is clear"

I follow the light in her warm eyes reflecting in glass windows
They lead me down the road to a park at the end of town
Dressed in ragged clothing, a man sits with a smile of peace
Breathing white puffs in frigid air, this gentle soul sees my frown

The message is plain, as my fears begin to clear
There is a greater depth in a soul of love well kept
The night is far spent; I kissed the hand of this gentle man
He smiled sweetly and said, "Lift up heavy head from dread"
 
I look up to see sun glistening on snow-laden pine boughs
It’s here, Christmas Day, and I’ve left my children alone all night
An ache in my heart compels me to race quickly back through town
Breathlessly, I reach my porch unprepared for a welcome sight
 
Hearing laughter within, I smell, yams, turkey and ham
I open my door, on the floor, presents piled high as well
Laughing with glee, sons kiss me, sparkle of brown eyes I see
Sparkling brown eyes, of Spanish descent, love is evident
 
“From where in the world did all this come,” I ask my sons
“Beautiful lady with Spanish brown eyes, stopped at our door
She said a strange thing, as on the floor our gifts were lain,
‘Tell Abe keep the faith; a mother's love is stronger than the grave.’
Her hugs and kisses, will be greatly missed!  Who was she, Daddy?"


Thank you, Moses, for joining me and guiding me in this write.  Merry Christmas, dear 
friends!


Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2009

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The Peace of Wild Things

Alone and left to contemplate, 
had I a pair of wings,
I’d fly away and search the world 
for the peace of wild things.

To live among the animals
and sense their lack of guile
existing in the here and now,
each moment spent worthwhile. 

And free of life’s addictions,
material wealth and greed—
possessing very little,
in accordance with the need.

But should I ever so depart
it’s uncertain I’d return,
for then I'd have a lifetime’s worth
of so much to unlearn.


Copyright © Mark Peterson | Year Posted 2014

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Chasing Pandora

Prometheus had erred and caused great ire
when stealing in stealth secrets of fire.
But Zeus could not forgive this deed.
The chieftain of gods punished his greed.
The lightning zigzagged across the sky,
in anger he let thunderbolts fly.
Instructions he gave to mould from earth
a woman endowed to prove her worth,
all humans to touch their lives and shift
the balance with her seductive gift.
Hephaestus was told what to create;
Pandora came forth through heaven’s gate.
Athena supplied her silver gown,
her head she adorned with ornate crown.
She hastened to guile the human race
her nature refined to tempt by grace
alluring deceit that knew no shame
her mission withstood distrust or blame. 

Pandora’s torment flowed wide and far.
She carried with her an earthen jar.
Instructions were laid to be obeyed
to keep it enclosed and so it stayed
till yearning became hard to resist
temptation knew well how to insist.
Alone by herself beside a brook
she lifted the lid, a glancing look
that opened the flood to evil force
unhindered it spread and took its course.
She panicked and pushed with all her might;
the damage was done – eternal plight.
A trickle of hope was left inside
but hardly enough to turn the tide.

When laws are defied they cause much grief;
the pleasure derived is false and brief.
Temptation is what destroys the weak;
redemption is there for all to seek. 
Forever in life it’s hard to cope.
Pandora we chase in search of hope.*

-------------------------------------------------------------------
* Pandora is chased for the only thing left in her jar – hope.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Author: Paul Callus
Contest: Men Only #2
Sponsor: Kelly Deschler
Placed 1st


Copyright © Paul Callus | Year Posted 2015

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Emerald Forests

Emerald Forests

Emerald forest hiding from man's curse
if found, its never better , always worse.
Wretched destroyers we are in this abode
in our arrogance we are firmly sold.

Greed for taking everything in our path
we in our false pride deliver our wrath.
Astonished that some may in this rebel
when seeking their deaths, damn them all to hell.

If true, the meek inherit this sweet earth
then our dear souls must love for all their worth.
Where river and bend meet with shining sky
Nature teases us to ask how and why.

Shall we pray that emerald forests hide?
Take action on that we can not abide?

Robert J. Lindley, 11-29-2016

Syllables Per Line: 10 
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Words: 	108


Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2016

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The Enemy's Child : collab with Carolyn D


The battles on the field are harsh and tough
The looting in their wake engorged with greed
Abundant spoils of war are not enough.
 
Atrocious in their acts that make no sense
The women and the girls are taken slaves
Abusing them with lust and violence.                        
 
Unable to resist the touch of shame
The captive females cry in pain and fear
Their lives will never be again the same.
 
And when the dust of war has blown away
The children of the foe get born to those
Who months before fell prey and ravaged lay.
 
Unwanted children still need loving care
Mothers find it hard to nurture such babes
Shame is endured by children in despair.
 
Their lives are defined by horrid attacks
Evil men who satisfied selfish needs
Indignities make them fall through the cracks.
 
Who loves a child rejected by its kin?
Society offers them no solace 
The “enemy’s child”, created by sin;
 
But all these children still have hearts and souls
Rejection renews the cycle of pain
When there is no one who cares or consoles.

-----------------------------------------------------
Co-write: Paul Callus & Carolyn Devonshire
@ March 2015



Copyright © Paul Callus | Year Posted 2015

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Come and See Jesus

Come and see the tiny baby, sleeping on a bed of straw. The angels came and sang His praises, and shepherds watched in silent awe. Come and see who's in the temple, listening to the rabbis teach; a twelve year old who asks them questions, His wisdom is beyond their reach. "Come and see," said John The Baptist, "The Lamb of God sent from above. On Him the Father sent His Spirit, it came down on Him like a dove." "Come and see," insisted Andrew, when he found Simon by the sea. "I believe we've found Messiah. Drop your nets and come with me." "Come and see", cried out the woman, "The man who told me all I'd done. He said He'd give me living water. Could He be the Holy One?" Come and see this man called Jesus. He heals the sick, the blind, the lame. Even demons are subject to Him. Those He touches are never the same. Come and see this Jewish Rabbi, as He teaches on the hill. The crowds are spellbound by His message, He teaches them about God's will. Come and see the righteous anger, of the man from Galilee. See Him cleanse the crowded temple, of the merchants and their greed. Come and see the Lord at prayer, in the garden on His knees. Sweating drops of blood in anguish, God's will be done is what He pleads. Come and see the man betrayed, by His own disciple's kiss. Sold for thirty silver coins, by a traitor in His midst. Come and see the suffering servant, hands and feet nailed to the cross. Hear Him say, "Father, forgive them," as His friends weep for their loss. Come and see, His tomb is empty. See, the stone has been rolled away. The Son of God has conquered death, He has risen from the grave. Come and see the risen Savior, See and touch His nail-pierced hands. Hear Him say, "Go preach the gospel, to every nation, every land." Come and see, men, women, children, Jesus is the Life, the Truth, the Way, to peace and joy and life everlasting. Believe in Him without delay. Entered in Richard Lamoureux's Battle of the Honorable Mentions Contest written 2008 entered in Anthony Slausen's "Jesus" contest Honorable Mention


Copyright © Kim Merryman | Year Posted 2016

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How Do I See You

How Do I See You

People often wonder
How they are perceived
Some think they're kind and nice
When really they are filled with greed

Some are selfish and self-righteous fools
A few think their beauty is mascara in blue
Some feel that de meaning others makes them upright
They usually run, when challenged to the fight

So now the question comes down to this
How do I see you Sir or do you wish to stay in bliss
You are not normal, that’s for sure
You may suffer from emotions’ scares

Your pain may be physical and intense as a hot star
So no you’re not normal, you can’t fly away
Too many look up to you
For your noble and kind ways

You give comfort and solace to those in need
Your kindness exceeds even a Rich kings largest decree
You are an engineer and builder of dreams
Reaching out to people with compassion, sometimes unseen

You belong in the kingdom of heaven
I do believe they have an all Irish bar section!
Its there we can share a brew or maybe a few
Laughing at those who live downstairs in hotter pews


Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2017

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Just Three Pounds

Three pounds a month they
ask, save the Tiger, save the
Panda, save the Jaguar, save
the rain forest.
Three pounds a month for
the children's hospital and 
for the save the children's
fund, the RSPCA, RSPB,
Cancer research, just, only
three pounds a month, now
my pockets are empty with
all these donations.
Our governments, they also
donate, mainly to the 
FAT CAT SOCIETY
yes those poor sods who
caused the majority of man's
suffering with their greed and
avarice.
Please just three pound a 
month for the Daniel 
Cheesemans poetry fund.


Copyright © Daniel Cheeseman | Year Posted 2010

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Curse the Hour

I’ll not be the mask of your madness
I’ll not be the whip of your demands
I’ll not be the drug of your habit
I’ll not be the dough in your hands

I’ll not be the doll that’s your play thing
I’ll not be the container of your need
I’ll not be the victim of your anger
I’ll not be the object of your greed
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’ll the bread that he feeds on
I’ll be the water that he drinks
I’ll be the cloud that he walks on
I’ll be the thoughts that he thinks

I’ll be the tent that he dwells in
I’ll be the heaven that he dreams
I’ll be the angel that he wants
I’ll be the sparkle in his stream

I'll be the star that he follows
I'll be the sun’s warmth on his chest
I'll be the moon that allures him
I'll be the treasure of his quest

I'll be the fairy of his woodland
I'll be the seductress of his need
I'll be the breast that he lies on
I'll be the dogma of his creed

I’ll be the honey that he savors
I’ll be the dessert that he craves
I’ll be the sea that he dips in
I’ll be the virgin he enslaves
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I would have been all that to you
I gladly would have made you king
But you gave all that to another
Now you must taste my bitter sting

You must watch his hands caress me
You must see his mouth devour
You must hear my sighs of pleasure
You must curse the betrayal hour

Eileen Manassian Ghali


Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2013

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Life's Fading Light-Part 2-Heroic Crown of Sonnets

Alone

For in the end it's just one soul that's passed.
Alone I'll lie in sod of greenest grass
to answer for the sins that I've amassed
at gates of gold I'll see if I may pass.
In to this world I entered all alone
in cold and dark and dank so old I grow,
on thoughts of younger days I bitch and moan
with little hope of changing what I know.
But, now as time reflects upon my skin,
the lines of life grow deep upon my face.
I feel the fear of darkness closing in
and of my soul it leaves but little trace.

     So lay my corpse upon this bier stone cold.
          The end of life so often is foretold.

Faith

The end of life so often is foretold
from storms of pained emotions we retreat.
When colors fade to black as we grow old
we search for gold from rainbows we can cheat.
Through lonely thoughts of our demise we trod,
yet try, we still, to save our lives from dust
With souls we've fore to sold we offer God
if but in his creation he would trust.
In promise lost we bide our time, we cope,
for what remains beyond our short lived lives.
The heaven of our father's faith's our hope,
inside of us is where this hope yet thrives.

     Is our eternal faith enough to know,
          when cold the winds of fate speak soft and low?

Moments

When cold the winds of fate speak soft and low
I hear its voice sing smooth in morning dew
and all of life on wings aloft will go
and fly on breeze of gentle pastel hue.
So sweet the taste of life will linger on
with rainbow flavors left upon the tongue,
like cream filled candy, but too soon it's gone
dissolved like so much piles of beetles' dung,
I know that life is precious as fine gems
reflecting each new moment that we live
with flowers' petals sweet upon their stems
our time in life is all we have to give.

     As years in life pass slow like buds in cold
          in warmth and light the blooms of time unfold.

Lies

In warmth and light the blooms of time unfold
to search through lost emotions is our goal.
In hope that we shall keep from growing old
we capture fading thoughts to keep us whole,
but when the final sunset has gone dark
the memories we cherished are all lost
and only ghostly photos leave the mark
of lives that pass like melting winter frost.
I can not bear the thought of you alone
when life has passed for me and I am gone.
What good of all the sweetness you have known
if lonely night awakes to lonely dawn.

     Forever lies I've promised, you will see,
          as petals fall, my life will cease to be.

Doubts

As petals fall my life will cease to be,
yet time goes on without a moment lost
and still the winds of fate persist and blow
without remark or care or pennies cost.
What worth am I but in your care and love
or have I lived my life in selfish need.
I've tried so hard, for you, to rise above
but in your eyes do you just see my greed.
For am I who you wanted me to be,
the perfect man to share my life with you,
or did you wish for me to just be me
and give you love and promise to be true?

     When end is near I know in you I'll dwell
          in whispered songs of love my heart will quell.

Life

In whispered songs of love my heart will quell
so soft it beats when broken scars are healed
yet pain of loss for you I can't dispel
when left to dream of all that you've revealed.
The secret  words of love that you have told
in moments sweet and pleasured touch exposed
to me are bits of life for me to hold
when fantasies of you have been reposed.
Now laid to rest inside my very soul,
I've loved you strong and deep for oh so long
for in my life you've played a leading roll.
Without you dear this life would be but wrong.

     Though many words as yet I wish to tell
          with tender tears to you, I say farewell.

Death

With tender tears to you, I say farewell,
my sweet, my life, my love, my need, my soul.
From you the one for whom my heart once fell,
this world of pain will now exact its toll
Too soon my corpse in death will lay stone cold
and tears from you will be my sole repose.
The troubadour whose words sing songs so bold,
alas, is left struck mute in death's last throes.
Will loves last flower fade without perfume,
to die unsmelled with human heart's adieu
its fragrant scent to linger in my tomb
or heaven sent, will stay and comfort you?

     At end of life my love I hope you'll know,
          when orchids bloom in beauty life's aglow.

Life's Fading Light

When orchids bloom in beauty life's aglow,
as time, with heavy brow, is nature planned,
too soon the beating heart begins to slow
when passion's ember burns the gentle hand.
With flames of love that flicker old and grey,
but moments gone, as youth filled questions asked,
the feelings lost to seasons never stay
for in the end it's just one soul that's passed.
The end of life so often is foretold
when cold the winds of fate speak soft to me.
In warmth and light the blooms of time unfold,
as petals fall, my life will cease to be.

     In whispered songs of love my heart will quell,
          with tender tears, to you, I say     ...farewell.


04/19/16



Copyright © James Inman | Year Posted 2016

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- The Brown Fog -



There are times you have no choice
To infinite unity, the tide comes as determined
You are part of the earth, the sun, the moon, the wind and the rain

I do not care who you are, I drink of the other fountain
Your jaws tighten your smile gets glued
Leeches bite to suck blood on your skin, by their own greed

  // Act like a man of flesh and blood
Your card must be played, an ace or a joker
Ace has a higher value and joker is a substitute,
but this is not poker //

An obsession that wins over common sense
The power of judgment disappears a power higher than yourself
Use your energy to get out of the dark abyss
He stamps his brown paper bag and makes his choice
Open a bottle of vodka, alcohol's embrace











26.09.2017
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved

Poem of the Day; 28.09.2017


Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2017

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Poem Ingredients

Many ingredients bake writing inspiration This recipe combines a stirring sensation: Heaps of desires never realized as marinated in teary sore eyes; Quantities of wide open spaces caramelized by nature’s appeal; Ageless genuine emotional traces sifted thru heart rendered graces; Equal parts family and romantic love as roasted within, without and above; Measured creamed ideals of peace with blanched pain and battle grease; Diced wishes braised with thrill bearing aromas of tangy heat or chill; Slices of awe from a glorious tree breaded with traits strong and free; I do not forget sour spices of greed dusted with mankind’s violent seed; A mix of fears dredged in anxiety with stress jelled in complexity; and, lastly faith garnished spirit grown in a soul conscious thicket. If able, I mix love with ingredients above before sampling my recipe once warmed up. If savory, I serve it in Soup’s poetry cup.
... CayCay Jennings January 20, 2017


Copyright © CayCay Jennings | Year Posted 2017