Best Has Been Poems
God's Been Good
Yes, I realize for many He has
no place.
But we pray for those to find His
grace.
To stop adoring their human face.
So much in good in life to do!
To tutor, to visit the ill.
And stop thinking as poets we
are kings and queens of the hill.
There are those in nursing homes,
who might like a visit or two.
Or soldiers who sacrificed their
bodies that are injured, for you!
Maybe our neighbor down the
street, the widow, lonely she sits.
Alas, we are obsessed with our
poetic mindset?
Your parchment and pen, will
not go away,
If, from a few feet of your desk
stray.
"And if you do good to those who
only do good to you, what credit
is that? Even sinners do the
same!"
Why do we comment to only
those who comment to us?
Why not jump into the Soup,
full force?
Realizing God is our source?
October 5, 2023
Twenty twenty a very strange year
From March onward most living in fear
You will all know what I'm talking about
COVID 19 I hear you all shout
It all started in the far East
Gaining momentum like a ravaging beast
Isolated pockets and countries locking down
As corona virus swept from town to town
The virus spread at an alarming rate
People isolating hoping that they're not too late
No matter what colour, race or creed
This virus was viral global indeed
Countries addressed the situation
Whilst people At home needed an explanation
You need to stay 2 meters apart
Until more is known this is a start
Keyworkers and NHS staff worked on through
To ensure we were safe including YOU
Some even thought it wouldn't be me
I'm going to relax down by the sea
5 months in lockdown finally fatalities fell
The powers that be decided oh what the hell
Restrictions were lifted new rules in place
Social distancing and cover your face
Just over a month the virus was strong again
Taking the vulnerable feeling no pain
Lockdown 2 was ordered once more
Totally different as scientist knew the R rating score
So twenty twenty was a strange year
It even managed to bring community cheer
Yes that's right not all doom and gloom
Good people stepped up into the room
Kindness, compassion and a helping hand
Makes me proud to live on this land
I hope your Christmas is of festive cheer
But remember social distancing is still here
Social bubbles and 3 households allowed
Don't be caught out in a big crowd
Enjoy this time Of giving and cheer
Raise a glass to 2021 being a better year
an old lady walks all alone
her legs are so tired
but her face so happy . . .
for at last she has found this dreamy place
of her long past memories
oh, painted daisy
she recalls gathering bouquets of them
under a perfect blue sky
she listens to the cool stream babbling
on the way to somewhere . . .
the weeping willow still hangs her head
over the water
and the blue jay is still singing
from a overhanging tree
a welcome back song . . .
so tired, she lays down on the grass
closing her ancient eyes, smiling
and whispering, life has been divine
_____________________
March 18, 2022
Poetry/Free Verse/life has been divine
Copyright Protected, ID 03- 1440-755-18
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, A Brian Strand 1092
sponsor, Brian Strand, Judged 03/20/2022
First Place
You say that you want me but I don't believe
as I sit in your silence uncovering me
over thinking that you would even seldom think
my tumultuous waters were worth a small drink
I'm busted and broken and all sorts of wrong
living a sentence of the same fateful song
I've stolen and shaken and I'm truly mistaken
fearful of losing of what's been foresaken
Not worthy of much except this hand that's been dealt
where feelings were erected but are no longer felt
It's strange but not strange, as life leaves me behind
with two swollen eyes and a congenial mind
Always adapting, acceptingly backing
to a man, not attacking
this song has been sung
and sung and sung
I find that as I stroll along
I fall into reflection
A wading pond of memories
So fond of memories am I
Each step, an effervescent whim
through time that has been mine
Each shine that has been mine
comes to fore
And as a kitten scurries on
to comfort of the shade
My thoughts are a parade
that wants to take me home
For like a page with splendid rhyme
just falling into place
It’s such a sugared space
This time that has been mine
There is nothing I won't do
To try and finally get through
To a world who is not well
Somehow we all tripped and fell
Right into a hole of hate
I just hope it's not too late
For climbing out of the deep
Anger that we slowly seep
Into souls, quickly burning
Out the love, now it's turning
More and more into heartache
When are we all gonna take
A look at what we're all doing
To each other, lets stop screwin'
Around, getting back to when
All humans were happy friends
Accepting others, and not judging
Let's leave all the hurtful smudging
In the past and move ahead
Without any tears or dread
My heart has been used and abused
Into pieces it was broken
It broke
Couldn't function
like a person hit by the stroke
I then lost trust in love
lost hope
Couldn't cope
Sometimes got tempted
to take a rope
and end this pain
driving me insane
End this misery
causing me to break physically
and mentally
Since then my mind was never at peace
Since then my heart was never at peace
because it was used
Because it was abused.
PoeticMonwa
A single flame will always burn
As a memory for us to remember and learn
It was a cold winter’s day
The twentieth of January
A young man standing in the bitter wind
And a new chapter in our history was about begin
His words echoed through out this nation
The torch has been passed to a new generation
He captured our hearts with each phrase
And we still recall with pride when we think of them today
But then in an instant it was gone
The torch, the flame, and most of all a man named John
We watched and cried that November day
Stumbling in the darkness thinking never again to find out way
But then a flame began to glow
And the light from it lit a path we began to follow
All was not lost that dark day
And somehow, someway his dreams will happen for all one day
< I have dipped my pen in the sublime, it's my gift to you
Now use it wisely and write about some captioned caught views
thus that of an snow-capped mountain with an eagle that soars
or white sandy beaches where ribbed tides rolls back to it's shores
maybe stars and moon dance reflecting off stilled bay's port
in ones head you must determine choice of words to now sort
from beautiful to just pleasure does not hit it's mark
beneath recant memory that caused the ignited spark
observer of denial you can not destroy ones voice
within pens stroke there comes a poet with another choice
seize the day and come bow to the chosen word of the day
dont let an overpowering object just get away
Written By Katherine Stella 6/26/11
Entry For A Rambling Poet's
Writing In The Sublime
Around my neck they put a noose. You ask if it is to tight i say it is to loose. They hang me because I have to much money. They hate me because I stand up for what is right. Go ahead and hang me the blood is on your hands. After you hang me the next chapter begins I got better plans. I'll be reincarnated and you will be the one I revenge. I don't know but with the knowledge from my past life. You I'M going to stand up and fight. After that I will hang you from a noose and it will be very tight not loose. Then the blood will be on my hands. I will hang you for my reasons because when you hung me you had no reasons. You think you can do what you want for your country put on a front. You make it hard for me to live. You take my money but when i ask you for help you never give it. Now the new chapter has begun. I will hang you my revenge has been revunged. copy right 2016
They burst on the silver screen
Each a goddess, a sultry queen
Adept in the tricks of the trade
Striving to make the grade
They were each a living doll
A beautiful image portrayed
As every role they deftly played
In each home, they were center stage
Their latest movie all the rage
They were careful not to fall
The signs of age began to creep
Plunging some in depression deep
Forced to accept the lesser role
Not to act, meant not being whole
They tried the sad end to stall
I wonder if someday to you
I might become a “has-been” too
If my poems lose their power
Accolades no longer shower
Will you remember to call?
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Santa Claus aint no has been,
until ole boxing day,
love your poetry its a dream,
keep em coming Mystic, hey
xox....Don
{MERRY CHRISTMAS GUYS{
thank you Mystic Rose
I put my hands around my wife's throat and I squeezed.
What disturbs me is that when she died, I was pleased.
When it came to having morals, I used to believe that I had some.
But every time I look in the mirror, I'm horrified to see what I've become.
My wife was so mean and she loved to provoke.
Life became intolerable every time she spoke.
She told me over and over how ugly and stupid that I am.
I snapped and killed her and now my soul has been damned.
I want to go to the Cops but they would lock me up for life, I would never again be free.
But that's only if I would get lucky, it's more likely that I would receive the death penalty.
When it came to my problems, she was the source.
If I hadn't snapped, I might have considered divorce.
As each day passed, that witch became even colder.
I'll spend the rest of my days looking over my shoulder.
She was a horrible Human Being and she loved to annoy me.
I'll never stop fearing that the Cops are closing in and that will eventually destroy me.
(This is a fictional poem)
Jesus Has Been So Faithful to Us!
As I look back on what God brought us through.
I’m so thankful for his faithfulness so true!
I think about the time when I was out of work.
And the times I was down to my “last shirt.”
Just when things seemed to overwhelm me.
I wondered if anyone was there to help me.
Just when things seemed discouraging and lost…
I decided to get my focus on the cross!
I cried out, “Jesus, if I lose all, yet have you...”
“That’s all that matters, as long as I know you!”
“Everything can be taken, but if you’re by me.”
“I trust that your spirit will be there to guide me!”
I felt such a peace and joy that I didn’t know.
And felt a sweet presence within my soul!
God was faithful! There was food on the table!
He proved himself to us! He’s more than able!
He helped us through the tough times of our life!
And kept us together, as a husband and wife!
Our faith and trust in him seemed to grow stronger!
Much of the discouragement wasn’t there any longer!
May I encourage you to put your faith in him!
He is the almighty God and wants you to know him!
His love can do what no one else could ever do!
He’s here right now! And is waiting for YOU!
By Jim Pemberton 05/26/15
The nation is thrown into grief.
Our national flag is flying at half mast.
Everyone is wearing a sack cloth.
The dangling axe fell on us.
And the mighty has fallen.
Our hearts are filled with dread,
And our eyes as heavy as lead.
Nigeria, Africa’s number one soccer nation,
Has been given a run for their money by the Ghanaians.
Culminating our early exit from the African nations cup.
The green and white jersey that we adore,
Have been dragged in the mud.
These are not the Eagles we have been celebrating.
Or are these Eagles suffering from bird flu,
That they cannot glide.
Their spirit was willing but their flesh were weak.
When we were young, we were strong,
Now we’ve grown but we are weak.
The reputation that took us years to build,
Have been destroyed over night.
Because we went to fetch water with a basket.
The baby has been thrown away with the baby water.
The Midas touch we used to have have been used on us,
Because we could not strike while the iron was hot.
The hunter has been hunted.
And we have fallen from frying pan to fire.
Football has kept us together as a nation for many years.
The Ghanaians has put a knife on what kept us together.
And we have fallen apart.
Once beaten, twice shy.
We hide our faces in shame.
No one is to be blamed.
What is sauce for the goose is also sauce for the gander.
Every dog has its own day and it was not our day.
A soldier lives to fight another day.
And never says never because quitters are losers.
The big question is,
Shall our bones rise again?
Or have we withered like the cursed fig tree.
Only the bowel of time will Tell.