Best Highest Bidder Poems


Premium Member Newspaper clippings

Too little 
too late
God said to me 
in this dream I had about fate

So I asked him 
what did he expect, 
A goody two shoes 
a prophet 
a saint 
to be something I ain’t 

Not at all he said 
I want to be entertained 
Eternity is boring 
mostly people snoring 
especially at night 
and during the day on occasion 

Look god! I walk around an
Amazon warehouse all day 
pigeon-holing tat
picking this and that
How am I supposed to amuse you 

Well I do enjoy you 
breaking stuff on purpose 
sabotaging the line 
Bunking off for a smoke 
going to the toilet 
and drinking erm… doing coke 

Ok hands up!
I admit 
I’m a total chancer
and do stuff I shouldn’t 
But it’s alright isn’t it 
that Amazon place is full of s-hit

Yes it is a terrible kip
but more fun when you entertain
Like in your last job 
listening to you lie
not taking the blame 
asking me to help out 
In your moment of doubt 
All that stuff you stole 
and barely got away with
on the whole 
That was quite funny!

Oh the (paper and plastic) I gathered, 
before selling it to the highest bidder 
Throwing expensive stock out in the trash 
The owner was a bastard 
all things considered 
a miserly swine
But nevermind 
Thanks!
I did need a dig out that time 

Hey! remember when I was aged about 7
and was told my pal went to heaven 
Why did it happen 
A year later walking to school with another kid
he was only 8
And that nut-job attacked us with a hammer 
Put a hole in my friends head 
The blood pumped in fountains of red
I thought he was dead 
All the gore I’ve seen 
witnessed a killing at 18
Trying to hold down an abattoir job in between 

Yes! Life ain’t pretty by design 
sometimes the stars just won’t align 
Others times they go nova 
and leave black holes behind 
still you’ll never really understand 
The powers in command 

So how about this poem
Will it see me home 
Does it amuse you
are we cool?

You’re still alive aren’t you!

By
David Kavanagh
Form: Rhyme

Racism, a Disastrous Element

RACISM, A DISASTROUS ELEMENT
I look at the world horrifically,
With depression and disgust,
As the masses enjoys in poverty
And fear.

I look at the world horrifically.
Every places, full of stratification,
And unlawful massacre of people.
Hmmm! What a cruel universe! 

I look at the world horrifically.
Yesterday, raping and killing,
Today, racism,
Tomorrow, i guess something deadly and disastrous.

I look at the world horrifically.
Segregation among the whites,
Segregation among the blacks.
Weirdest part, segregation between the black and the whites.

I look at the world horrifically,
Stratification among the blacks, i called "tribalism ".
Hatred, i called among the whites.
Disunity rules.

I look at the world horrifically,
As our ancestors in great slumber.
With no hope of fortune.
Crying, segregation of the highest bidder.

        Alimi Abdulkabir's Poetry
            03/06/2020

Premium Member Lady of the Night

Getting lost in the wake of a beauty so exotic 
Warm balmy night promises speak from her beckoning eyes
Ensnaring themselves in a web of sultry desire
As heady perfume of white jasmine permeates night skies

Playing the leading lady the Oscar is always hers
Perfect crimson lips set in porcelain skin perfection
Hypnotic blue eyes seduce bringing them down to their knees
Mere shadows of themselves left in its luminous reflection

Entrapped by shadows - A lady of chastity she is not
Embracing dusk welcomes her in it's ever watchful sight
She the mysterious mistress that women love to hate
Forbidden fruit for their men - She is the Lady of the Night

The highest bidder always wins her - she cares not who
Seductive and sultry or sweetly naïve and innocent
She plays the game well - whatever the gentleman fancies
To gifts of extravagance offered - she is indifferent

But when the games are done and she's alone in her chambers
For the one who stole her heart she sends out a lonely cry
Even though she has everything money can possibly buy

Her love is not for sale
It belongs only to the one who took it away
And bid her goodbye

Music Video - Memoirs of a Geisha - Sayuri's Theme FULL
'The Memoirs of a Geisha' Official Soundtrack featured Yo Yo Ma performing the cello solos, as well as Itzhak Perlman performing the violin solos. The music was composed and conducted by John Williams. Published on Nov 22, 2009
Form: Verse


Adopted

There’s a tale that I must tell
Of a heart that I knew quite well.
This heart dwelled within her chest
And had given its very best.

Love and compassion had filled this heart
But it was taken advantage of from the start.
This love and compassion was given
Freely to children in pain
But to the adoption agencies
It was just a game.

“ sell the child to the highest bidder”
You work for us - we have no quitters !
Take them for all the money that you can
This is part of the company plan.
And promise them what you must
For in us they put their trust.

If they want a particular type of child
Then they will have to wait a while.
We can give them what they want
If the price is right.
But it will not be overnight.

If they just want a child , and there
Is no preference to how it must be.
We will fill the contract gladly.

We have black children, white children
Oriental too.
We’ll do what we must - to satisfy you.

Now her heart was overflowing
And she knew where she was going.
She went to the D C S where her
case she would rest.
 
The Department of Children s Services was
Already building a case, because
Of so many civilian complaints.
Now with the case pending
Where to place them, the judge was rendering.

“ I will take them if I can, for I have more 
Than enough land.
I have a ranch with more than enough rooms
Give them to me it’s not too soon.

Do a background check, which I know you must
For in the system I put my trust.

One month later, they was living under their roof
For the courts had gotten the proof.
She raised the children like her own 
And to the courts it was shown.

Now she can share her heart, and the children
Can have a brand new start.

LOVE AND COMPASSION RULE !
© Louis Rams  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Highest Bidder's Oversight

Written: November 24, 2024, for Contest: Sponsored by: Sigrid Ermine
                        ____________________________

Shadows dance as dreams collide, 
The gavel falls, in a thunderous stride.
Dollars rise like autumn leaves,
A trembling hand, a heart that believes.

The top bidder passionately claims, 
A trophy of acquire, a fleeting name.
Yet beyond a glimmer of a polished facade,
Lurk complexities that prick and prod.

Is the bargain lovely like spring's first bloom?
Do they hide in a coming doom?
In the excitement of the chase.
Was the value eclipsed by rush of race? 

A rollercoaster ride, every surge a delight,
Yet plummet shadows dwell just out of sight.
What glittering promise, what gilded allure,
When contracts are inked, are they truly secure?

The shatter of dreams, like glass in a quake,
Can haunt a soul, the tether will break,
Calamity waits in the wings of the grand,
As fortune's fingers weave destinies unplanned.

In the depths of the deal, in the fine print, they sigh,
“What if the status was merely a lie?”
For the highest bidder, consumed by ambition,
Forgot, in their haste, the weight of tradition.

For while fortune may smile, fortune may jest,
Securing the prize can unearth the unrest.
In the fervent pursuit, in pursuit of the gleam,
Sometimes the hardest lesson is naught as it seems.

So here lies the message, the heart that should stir,
The value of life cannot simply confer,
We chase after treasures, the swift and the bright,
Yet lose track of the joys that dance in plain sight.

Consider the shadows, the whispers, the cost,
The moments unclaimed are too precious, not lost.
For the highest bidder, in glitz and glamour,
May find the simplest joys are the truest treasures.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

A Black Man's Perspective

Life in Africa was full; years in the bush, a treat.
Music made us happy; drums sounded for dancing feet.
A loving life with family always made us smile.
Living together freely, we never knew defeat.

Greedy slave hunters sailed down the Nile.
Chained us below with feces and bile,
Our curiosity was a big mistake!
We lived like that for a long bad while.

Sold to the highest bidder at the market by the dock,
Herded off to cotton fields, we became their livestock.
Forced to do hard labor; whipped until bare backs bled.
Rest would never come as time ticked on the clock.

The life of a slave was hard work; at least we were fed.
Some rested in cottages, others in a shed.
Scorching sun, sweat, blood, the whip did not feel good.
Calling a white man, “Master”, a slave’s daily dread.

Even in the best conditions, the human spirit was not free.
Mistreated; folks who could not take it were shot trying to flee.
A man could dream of Africa and his family all day.
Divided and sold into slavery a painful loss to see.

The Underground Railroad helped slaves run away.
Their owners and hounds tried to catch each stray.
Some of the lucky ones were never found.
Those who were caught for their lives had to pray.

Lincoln tried to free all slaves; the Klu Klux Klan still frowned.
John Wilkes Booth picked up his gun and shot the President down.
Slaves were free per history, but it was not as expected.
For even after the Civil War, burning and lynching did abound.

About one hundred years later, the issue was resurrected.
Rosa Parks stood up for her rights; NAACP directed.
The Civil Rights Movement brought freedom at last.
President Kennedy addressed the nation; equality enacted.
Form: Rubaiyat


Premium Member Brains

Brains:

Many secrets held in
caverns
energy in the
literal folds
do not sell your
mind
to the highest
bidder
there is something
new
under the sun
Be brave -save
our
planet
Don't sell to the
highest bidder
never be a quitter
or a sitter,
move!, use the power
in your
ability to think-
eat brain-food
and brain- storm.
Don't sell to the
highest bidder
Set your aptitude
meter up high
align your self with
what we are equipped
to do! Sane people
needed to save our
planet dammit!
The mighty Gate is
only a
man.
Let us think!
there is something
new
to do, Under the
sun.
even waste has it's
place
every thing is
viable
we will be held
liable.
Don't sell to the
highest bidder.
nor be a quitter,
nor a sitter.
Do what's best with
our minds.
Brains unused will
prove
to be our downfall
what good is it to
know the score
answer trivia
fight in Bolivia-or
Libya
But cannot think our
way out
this man-made mess.
We have the brains I
Confess, let us use
them-
There is something
new
Under the sun.
Let us clean -
up this
Planet Dammit"

Free Cee Why Cry I

WHY, CRY I

I wonder if my disappointment will ever dissipate?
And will my sorrow suddenly end tomorrow?
Will my life create anything but hate?
And instead of lending will I be able to borrow?

Questions are legion in a region of few solutions
There is no one wise enough to help me out
No one with eloquent enough elocution 
Only people to heap upon me further doubt

Will I ever will away the will to ask why?
And can there ever be a finale of fascination?
I wonder why I cry out to no longer cry,
when there is nothing more than further frustration?

So many questions for me to consider
While I while time away by escaping away
I suppose peace goes to the highest bidder
At least that’s what I wish wizened people would say
     © 2012 copyright PHREEPOETREE…..~free cee!~
Form: Quatrain

In Defiance of a Female Warrior

When she stepped out of the shower
In pale wet skin
And splendor

She wore water like a queenly robe
Dripping breasts 
Made of gold and treasure

Such beauty deserved 
To be inscribed
Something no man should forget

In case I couldn’t memorize the bite of her
Kiss
The trembling release of her depth 

In case I might forget the flavor of  her
Cries
The  excited rasp of her  breath 

I needed a photo of that naked pout
A vision 
Never to forget

“Don’t take my picture,” 
She warned me 
In ferocious warrior tongue
Daughter of Nordic barbarians
Beauty unlike anyone

What did she think I would do 
With the image she might surrender?

Sell it to the highest bidder 
For thirty pieces of silver?

Send it to perverts and sex addicts
Specialists in self-pleasure?

Post it on church walls
So celibates might be tempted?

Raise it upon a flag
For an entire nation to be offended?

“Don’t take my picture,” 
She warned me
In ferocious warrior tongue
Daughter of Nordic barbarians
Beauty unlike anyone

But I defied her fierce instruction
Spit from heroic luscious lips

Picture snapped
In a flash

Naked beauty captured
At last

And

Never saw that warrior again.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Planned Parenthood Diabolical Money Maker

Planned Parenthood’s Diabolical Money Maker!!!

The most heinous crime that has been demonically inspired
surely came from Hell below; 
tearing an unborn helpless baby from inside his mother’s womb
and just when you think this country couldn’t sink – no! Not that low!!!

The pain these babies must go through
having their tiny arms and legs torn off, 
then having their precious little heads crushed and their
tiny organs, sold to the highest bidder on the auction block!

America!!!  America!!! What has happened to you that 
you let and pay that these abominable crimes could go on; 
if we are not safe within our mother’s wombs
neither are we safe in a grocery store line!

Our God is not blind to these events as the people doing
these dastardly acts may think,
no, one day they will stand before Him saying, “I didn’t know it was wrong”,
“why their organs went to research”, and all the while the “unwashable” blood
was still on their hands!

Did you know PP employees and Doctors, did you know that your heart
and your conscience have totally been seared possibly for the entirety of your life?
Would you not flinch or care if someone took hold of your children for research
or possibly your husband or even your wife?

Oh, it is not for the money you would say, no it is
for the good of all mankind, 
why your children have lived long enough and you’ve had a 
lengthy marriage, so now, it is time for the good of research that you be sacrificed!

Planned Parenthood, you have taken this country down to Hell with you
more than likely, there is no coming back now, 
for the blood of millions of babies is crying out to our God, crying and crying and crying!!! Open your hearts and ears and you might will be able to hear that sad sound!

Written by:  Marilyn S. Jennings
July 28, 2015

Peaceful Stolen World

As I sit and watch
Watch you denounce the obligatory violence
Announcing and pronouncing the fabricated freedom
Joyfully commemorating and celebrating your assassinated true leaders
The enemy killed not the leaders but the ideas
You buried not them but the ideologies intended to truly liberate you
6 feet deep under the ground, 
Saying they shall multiply and long live!
Chanting slogans with no comprehension just for the rhythm and sound 
Deep into the ground 
Burying your true liberation from colonization
Being sold the false hope of FREEDOM.

As I sit and watch
Watch black man selling his kinsmen to the highest bidder
Manipulated by the enemy to think he is better and different
Better than the poor masses who sacrificed themselves to be his ladder up
You are no different black man
You are just a slave in a black tie
They bribe you with a cheque from your forefathers’ fortune and wealth
They use you to steal in your own pocket
Stealing your legacy to your enemy
Yes they are right ‘You are different’ 
The difference between us is your inanity.

 As I sit and watch
I watch my brothers and sisters been turned to be educated slaves
Enslaved by a mere pen and paper
A piece of paper segregating us and determining our destiny
Desired so hard by many to own to serve the enemy
They chose very well the useless texts to colonize and brainwash you
They planned so well to systematically oppress you 
They took the weaker with no vision to execute their plans

As I sit and watch 
I watch them say “save that one in a cell we might use him later”
I watch them say “kill that one he is too stubborn, a true leader and he is a threat”
I watch them with white collars reading the scriptures that say ‘a slave must obey his master’ and shouting PEACE BE UNTO YOU!
I watch them on the other hand brutally killing, raping and stealing.

Wake up black man and liberate yourself
No one will 
Not even your so trusted leaders
You are not yet uhuru and so is your Azania
They stole your land with a bullet and you shall get it with a bullet not negotiations and commissions 
Free yourself 
Decolonize your education
To truly liberate the coming generation
Preach not their gospel but Africanism and socialism
ALUTA CONTINUA!!!!

#I WRITE TO PROMOTE NO VIOLENCE BUT TO LIBERATE

The Moving Target

I am the eponymous A. Floating-Voter!
I do know my mind, but I’ll follow the pack … 
My vote’s up for sale now, to the highest bidder.
Yes! What was that offer, sir? You at the back?

One fellow offered me ‘less unemployment’;
Another one’s promised a crackdown on Crack.
A third says my kids should get more education!
Now who’s gonna offer me tuppence off tax?

One bloke is standing who’ll never be sitting!
So if he’s elected, he won’t see it through.
He said I could choose ‘Not to be European’.
I thought I did that back in ’72 … 

‘A’ says I’ll have more disposable income;
‘B’ says he’ll build us more roads and such-like. 
If I vote for ‘B’, I’ll have more roads to drive on; 
If I don’t vote for ’A’, then I can’t run a bike! 

All of them claim to be fighting corruption; 
Opening closets; exposing the sin … 
Though naturally, MPs are above suspicion! 
Now, what was this ‘Members’ Expenses’ thing? 

I’m already beginning to feel some confusion.
Which of the parties is really the best?
They all claim the others are nothing but liars …
But none of them passes the ‘truthfulness’ test … 

I really do not have a clue who to vote for!
I’m starting to wonder if I should abstain … 
But ‘Say what you want!’ was my Mum’s favourite motto, 
‘And if you don’t get it, then you can complain!’ 

So, come voting day, I’ll be down at that station.
I’m going to vote, and I’m keeping close tabs …
So go for it, candidates! Try to attract me! 
‘Cause, ‘tween now and then, chaps,
My vote’s up for grabs!

..........................................................................

This is how we tackle elections in Great Britain - not so slick, but lots of fun!

Entered in Dana'lynn Smith's "Politically Educated" contest by Frances King
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member Stupid Love Poem

I woke one morning feeling something wasn’t right
Something went missing dead in the night
I searched my closets and night chest
Went through every drawer of that old wooden desk
But nothing was missing nothing at all
Not my 75-inch flat screen or anything small.
Then I realized it was part of my soul
and in its place laid a large empty hole
I tried to tape it up & I also used glue
Eventually knowing that nothing would do.

Soon I needed a GPS to make it through the day
some type of guidance, for I couldn’t find my own way
I forgot how to dance and sometimes I stumbled
My life was going down and starting to crumple.
People asked had I lost weight or did I cut my hair
A piece of my soul was missing & it just wasn’t fair.
I felt my spirit fading and wasn’t going to last
I had to find that part of me, really fast.
I scanned facebook and inquired on twitter 
checked ebay if my soul went to the highest bidder.

Then soon after that, someone stole my heart
Was this some conspiracy that I wasn’t apart?
For days I tried to find it in every face I meant
but all that left me with was dismay and regret.
Finally, I remembered the man who had my heart last,
so, I hopped in my truck and I drove very fast.  
I abruptly kicked in his door and demanded it back
and threatened his dog if it tried to attack.

The man passionately told he didn’t want to let it go
he kept it close to his heart if I needed to know. 
I asked him if he had that part of my soul as well
Just my heart was all he could tell.
He kissed me so gently and held me tight
we loved over and over until the morning light.
The next day he promised he’d help me find my soul
Find that piece that would make me whole 
I breathed a sigh of relief as I felt no harm
finding myself in this man’s arms.
It was the first time in weeks I felt no dread
So, I patted his dog and we went back to bed.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member My Last Will and Testament

Dear, 
To whom it may concern 
This is my last Will and Testament
I, Eric being of brainwashed mind and owned body
Bequeath the following worldly possessions 
To the government, 
I leave my mind 
For which you have programmed for years 
I leave my eyes
Which you have blinded from the truth 
I leave my ears 
Which you have filled with lies 
I leave my body 
Which you branded a slave long ago 
You may also keep my death benefit of $255.00 dollars 
For it is a humorous tribute of my worth in your eyes 
I suggest you buy booze with it 
To toast my untimely demise at your hands 
As for the remainder of my estate 
Please sell them to the highest bidder 
To help bailout another failed mess 
Brought on by the corruption you made your bed with 
All that I ask is that you keep my ass 
So you can kiss it on my way out 

Sincerely, 
Your slave 

Eric (and sometimes not)
© Eric Nolan  Create an image from this poem.

The Perfect Smile

i took so many bad choices in life
i screwed up even when i had a wife
i can play the game of blame
But its time i face the shame

Disappointment i have left
My life now is in a cleft
In my being the sun has set
From now on only sadness i will get
 
We know about sins of the father
i pray God won’t let it go further
It’s all ripped open raw
Now everybody saw

A flawed human being
Running up the hills fleeing
Away from eyes judging
Hiding all my smudging

Doing drugs to feel better
But being called by a debtor
Selling your soul to the highest bidder
Praying the debtor will reconsider

Losing loved ones in this awful race
Still barely have courage to save face

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