Best Hell In A Hand Basket Poems | Poetry

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Going To Hell In A Hand-Basket by Ashley, Susan

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The Best Hell In A Hand Basket Poems

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The Christmas Kiss

I was sitting in the crowded train station with time to waste, waiting on the train to take me home on Christmas Eve.  A very pretty, young lady, carrying a full backpack headed for one of the only open seats across the aisle from me next to a rather dirty and disheveled older man.

As she removed her backpack to sit down he glared up at her; she smiled a beautiful bright smile and said to him, “Merry Christmas”.

“I don’t celebrate Christmas”, he barked up at her.

“Yeah?  Well, that doesn’t mean you can’t be happy on the day that I celebrate Christmas.  And I hope the day is merry for you as well.”

“What is there to be merry about”, he moaned, “A bunch of hypocritical religious zealots pretending to be nice to one another while the world goes to hell in a hand basket.”

“Well, at least for that one day, most of us believe the hypocrisy, and even for just a few hours, we practice the morals that our religion tries to instill in us.  At least on that one day, for us religious zealots, there is a glimmer of hope that we can save the world from going to hell and, I, for one, believe that is reason to be merry.”

“Terrific!  And, what does that get me,” he whimpered.
	
“Well, what you get is this one time of year, when a twenty-two year old college girl is not afraid to sit next to you; smile at you; and, wish you a Merry Christmas.  And, if you just say, ‘Thank you’ and ‘Merry Christmas’ back to her, she just may give you the biggest and best kiss you have ever experienced.”

She stood back up and started to put her backpack back on as he simply stared up at her.  Once she was situated and ready to move on towards her train, she stopped; smiled at him again; and, said, “Merry Christmas.”

It seems I was not the only stranger that was witnessing this exchange.  All of those around me were perched on the edge of their seats waiting to see what might happen.  The old man cracked a little smile.  A glimmer came to his eyes, and he said, “Thank you.  And, Merry Christmas to you, too.”

The girl leaned down and planted a kiss right on his lips for what seemed like ten minutes.  Smiles lit up the faces of all the men, women and children watching this take place.  When the girl finally pulled back, the old man was frozen in place with a big ole smile on his face.  She adjusted her backpack and started heading towards the tracks.  All the men she passed on her way who witnessed this exchange anxiously yelled, “Merry Christmas” as she passed, hoping for a kiss as well.

I looked back at the old man who was still in a dream.  Suddenly he caught me looking at him and barked, “What are you staring at?”

I just shook my head back and forth and said, “Merry Christmas”.

“Yeah!  Well Merry Christmas to you, too” he shouted.


Copyright © Joe Flach | Year Posted 2012


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God Is Our Hero

God is our hero and I love him.
He's our only hope in a world that is so grim.
We need God now more than we ever have before.
God can save us, he's someone we must not ignore.
The world is going to Hell in a hand basket, it's a mess.
God is our hero and if we turn to him, we will be blessed.


Copyright © randy johnson | Year Posted 2015


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You Know Nothing About

Dark origin behind the dawn of life
Dumb souls laugh far-off stream
A chip heavy on shoulders
Crash with thunder storm
Generous thoughts from heaven
Fall like cold dew in a pail
Walk with a profound heart miles and miles away
Thoughts prevail every time with no answer
Often lose action with single que, how absurd?
You get trapped in the same web as spiders do?
Then you’re off on the wrong foot
Just give a slip from yourself, long to soar up the sky
And fly as high as a kite, leaving the cruel world behind
Let others stroll and wade up to the shore
For you desire no more pleasure
The need for fresh air is all in demand
Is this how necessity became the mother of all?
You will hear people spin tall tale not one but many
The ridiculous cock and bull story from the attic with a cry
Keep your chin up and listen till the end
You can’t escape from loose cannons around
The world carries Hell in a hand basket
Every rose has its thorn; still the flower grows on pins 
There will be horrid little lumps within but don't crush the bud When you know you’re barking up the wrong tree, 
Float down the running stream to know your rope 
stamp hard feet down and see you appear bold on them
Carry yourself safe in the dark-dark night
Bold sense of vision hidden from the bloody sight 
An untimely resignation is traumatic, true! 
But every cloud has a silver lining
Stumbling blocks or stepping stones throw possibilities open
It’s time to pull the plug and aim for the best of both worlds
You need an eagle's sight to fight against the feeding frenzy
In fact, there are no mistakes, only experiences
No problems only challenges, the ultimate spring of survival
One day, you will find your feet fixed on the right ground
Ready to explore the beauty of new space
Dare not give umpteen excuses or never justify wrong
Some are irreversible!
Life has been kind, sometimes harsh, but mostly fair.
But think positive! Is it that simple?
Do billion good thoughts mean billion actions?
So many questions but answers too
Now, you might doubt about fear and sorrow
But not about life, love and death!
Is this what we call mere symbolism of deeper reality?
You know nothing about...
But know that your Lord has got you where you’re now! 
Will be taken there in your own time and reach that extra mile, Be you and teach to learn!
Count blessings no matter yours or mine!
Today, I stand to be a little more aware
My life is still trying to teach something that’s worth a try!
You know absolutely nothing at all...!




Copyright © Hussaina Azgar | Year Posted 2017


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Lovers Departed

Lovers departed
Like two souls unwanted
Sent to Hell in a hand basket
To make it out on your own
Futures are uncertain
Hope can be lost
Place faith in the fact that
What could have been, never was

Hearts and minds tend to fight
An epic tug-of-war
All you ever wanted 
blew out the front door
And now all we do is search
For Mister and Miss Right
But did we just maroon them, each other, on shore?

Long words abandoned
For those softer on tongues
One plans the future,
The other plans today’s fun
Why can’t they both
Simply cross the other’s path
It’s for not lack of trying
Until turning one’s back

Memories have faded
Yet others return
Was it a fair exchange 
to receive the good for the spurned?
The wrong days will cut you
With fears and regrets
Sometimes we hold onto
What no one thinks is best

In the foggy uncertain
Only time can unfold
If happiness awaits 
Or you die old and alone


Copyright © Daron Long | Year Posted 2010


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You Are Not God

 
You are not God
So stop acting like you are
You are no better than anyone else
Your ego is so large 
But its not you but GOD who is in charge

Christians who act like they are perfect
Oh they are defiantly not
I’d love to see them to try and walk on water
Some have tried, all of failed
Wet feet is all they’ve got

They point their fingers
And condemn others to hell
They shout “fire and brimstone”
Raise their voices and yell

If you don’t believe what their church says
You are going to hell in a hand basket
They are perfect, will be in the front of the line on judgment day
While all others are still laying in their caskets

They make fun of others religion 
Saying oh that’s so not right
Believe what we say or your condemned 
You can see we are all goodness and light

They think all they do is right
No need to apologize
They twist and bend God’s word
And try to get the rest of us to believe their lies




 


Copyright © I Dream In Poetry | Year Posted 2011


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Going To Hell In A Hand-Basket


He found me in a dream serene,
then I found her in a stupor.
LATE! I realized for the first scene,
ineffective tense tired tutor.

Wampanoag's dismay on fierce face,
on her’s pale, nothing but despair.
Knew I was doomed in any case,
me; I wish I could disappear…

My wardrobe gray, black and a frown,
I walk with slouch instead of proud.
Place spiraling on its way down,
my soul's lost in this crazy crowd.

Immature arrogant revolt,
devoted defenders hold line.
They got things figured out — but don’t..,
mayhem for fun’s sake a past time.

Hellions running wild the prison,
bitterness taste - lemon pucker.
Hierarchy ears deaf, won’t listen,
moment of truth taste for sucker.

It’s a sorry state of affairs,
a sad society we live.
We won’t survive if unawares,
civility bleeding through sieve.



August 31, 2017

------------------------------


Contest: Dreams
Sponsor: Nayda Ivette Negron





*Poet's note: this poem was based on a dream I woke up with this morning*



Copyright © Susan Ashley | Year Posted 2017


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It's Important To Please God and Jesus

It's important for people to please God and Jesus.
We should please them because they please us.
We can please them by being honest and not cheating, stealing, killing or lying.
We may fail when we attempt to do these things but that shouldn't stop us from trying.
The world is going to Hell in a hand basket, it's like a disease. 
But if we try to do our best, God and Jesus will be pleased.


Copyright © randy johnson | Year Posted 2016


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She murdered her parents

(This is a true story)

A sixteen year old girl murdered her father and her mother.
She killed them because they tried to stop her from seeing her lover.
When this happened, an entire nation was horrified and stunned.
How could a teenage girl callously murder her parents with a shotgun?
Blood was splattered on the walls, the floor and in the bed and the bodies were 
in a terrible shape.
She pulled the trigger when she learned they were going to have her boyfriend 
arrested for statutory rape.
Her parents didn't know that their daughter was a threat.
This proves that the world is going to Hell in a hand basket.


Copyright © randy johnson | Year Posted 2007


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No Gaurantee

Love is no picnic, it's more like hell in a hand basket. It's ridiculous and reckless and I'm convinced that it's tragic.  It's both devastating and deadly when she leaves you where you stand. Cut open and bleeding because your hearts was in her hands. Now you're breathing just barely because loves left you broken. I guess the fire has burnt out, and the embers have quit smoking. And the feeling is overwhelming as it hangs in the air, above ur head like a cloud so black with despair. And you feel it because it's there and it seems so unfair. That love has stripped you naked, left you lost, hurt and bare. Bare as in barley, which is how you're getting by. And it's fair as in unfairly but still you had to try. So love is no joyride, it's just a wreck waiting to happen. It's a joke and here's the punchline: nobody's laughing. There's are no shouts for joy and nobody's clapping. Because love only destroys, it's divorce waiting to happen.  It's insane indiscreetly, it's a disaster made neatly, it's pain and indecency, its a massacre, completely. So please release me, if you cant trust or believe me. Then why try?  It's meaningless, or so it seems to be, love but it's not. It never was, we just thought,  it was something that it wasn't. What it was, it was not. So she loves me? I think not. She just left me, here to rot. So cold was the teacher, so cruel what was taught. So brutal in her ways, I guess our love was just a phase. Something we went thru, heart to heart,  the pieces fit, then fell apart. They hit the ground like broken glass, I guess our love just couldn't last. And it hurts to say but now I see, that when it comes to love, there's no guarantee.



Copyright © Anthony Clifford | Year Posted 2016


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Threatening Rhetoric



To hell in a hand basket, a famous old phrase Times haven't changed, they're even kookier today With those at the helm We're overwhelmed With threatening rhetoric, things are starting to decay


Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2017


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Threatening Rhetoric



To hell in a hand basket, a famous old phrase Times haven't changed, they're even kookier today With those at the helm We're overwhelmed With threatening rhetoric, things have started to decay


Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2018