Best Imprudence Poems | Poetry
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The Best Imprudence Poems
leading to so much bloodshed
learn to love like birds
share the sky above to fly
let love triumph over bullets.
© kashinath karmakar( 10th August 2011)
Placement: 10th ;(August 2011)
Contest:Bald Eagle in Cemetery contest (Photo based)
Copyright © kash poet | Year Posted 2011
I sought to compose an imprudent poem
And started to draw on the blank paper
Words in transparent foliage
That took on the shape of weeping dew.
I wished to disobey the rule,
Institute an unruly troop,
Not to house feelings of stone,
Nor even listen to balanced peace.
I wanted to, but could not compose
Verses in metrified lines
Using named decasyllables.
Among lines with alternating rhymes,
Is born, with the imprudence as sung
Not a poem, but rather a Sonnet!
Copyright © Benedito Silva | Year Posted 2011
I cringe to see your delicious tears trickle thus
And your emotions foul as our ties get worse,
I wish we both lived in some idyllic utopian land
Where things obeyed the whip of some magic wand.
There, I would not hold a grudge against my only love;
For there the egotism and imprudence that shove
Our affections to make room for hate do not tread,
And the strings of binding care flourish in their stead.
Which place would keep in friendship two souls so fond?
The frosty chill of the earth would not save such a bond
For it’s fraught with hesitation and such suspicious doubt
That uproots the fledgling shoots of love before they sprout.
Which imaginary land would host our love’s endangered day
And defend it against its impending fast-approaching decay?
I’m convinced that there’s not a place among the planets nine
That can ever tame wild restless hearts such as yours and mine.
Copyright © Hannington Mumo | Year Posted 2015
With impatience, we leave
for a broader world covered in gloom
With imprudence, we deliver ourselves
Into a brand new darkness
With grace, we thrive
And embrace the bleak future of our lives
It's just how the society works, I guess
I've tried many times to theorize why we are
And why we hate all
I've tried many times to love
Only to be met with violence
Oh, dear society please keep it up
Maybe if I shout high enough
I will be understood
Maybe if I cursed loud enough
You'd hear me out
I'm just a pitiful error;
Unfit for modern society's perfect biology.
With anger, we delve down
Into a bloody hell that everyone seems to love
With anguish, we march to the tone
The tone to injure ourselves to
With perfection, we love
And I hate you
It's just how the society works, I guess
I've learned that all of us are fake pieces of rubbish;
I've learned we're all littering a beauty that we rape slowly, surely
Oh, dear society please keep it up
Maybe if I hurt immensely,
I can inflict these wounds onto you as well
Maybe if I leap down the concrete tundra,
I can make it rain acid on your precious face
We're all pitiful errors;
we're all perfect for one another
Screw your creations, beast
Screw your ideals
Society, please glue my shattered pieces
Into your deviated masterpiece
I hate you...
Maybe if I die slow enough,
I can enjoy the burning of it all
Maybe if my corpse mocks well enough,
I can stir tears in your toilet eyes
that's all we ever were.
Copyright © Jake Brunton | Year Posted 2017
Deep below the ocean's surface volcanic vents do spew,
Fumes of pressurized oxygen with their bubbly molten brew.
Down where the water's pressure is denser than that of air,
The lava's effervescent bubbles form an atmospheric lair.
There lives within these domes of air a group of simple people,
Who've built a social structure, igneous edifices and coral steeples.
As mammals, they share the very brain within our own dense heads,
But they've learned to use it in ways we've never dreamt of nor read.
Here above the surface we use our bodies to produce economy,
Blinded by bills and schemes of capital with very little autonomy.
Unbound by bonds of profit and wealth, the people who dwell below in the bubbles,
Can feel and read each others' thoughts, keeping them in love and out of trouble.
To eat, they can summon and stun the fish that swim outside their atmosphere,
With a simple thought which emits a pulsing wave which their minds can hear.
Beyond meeting their needs for sustenance and nutrients,
They spend their remaining time playing with their compatriots.
The games they play are aimed to grow their minds that give them health,
And laugh with friends, for humor and happiness are what they consider wealth.
They have one law: the Golden Rule, which is to love all with pure imprudence,
Which is neither governed by politics nor policed by the failure of jurisprudence.
Unlike the surface dwellers above that they have become psychically aware of,
They have no distant sun to worship but volcanic light that they've grown to love.
For they make no assumptions of origins and live to learn not claim,
Reasons for light to embolden the masses with fear when darkness came.
One day these people wholeheartedly hope that their bubbles will rise to meet,
The people above who live in duplicitous splendor rather than in simplicity of unity.
Copyright © Brendan J. Simons | Year Posted 2017
A strange hunger
A hunger for freedom…
Though I have,
Yet I desire…
A deep unfulfilling kind of starvation…
Can never get too much of freedom,
Intangible yet priceless,
Invisible yet vital for life,
Embrace but don’t abandon me!
I will be like fish out of water
Give me the space,
To live my life,
The way I want to,
With whom I want to,
I understand there are constraints,
I understand that absolute freedom means anarchy,
But allow me to make my choices,
To create my own little world,
Free of dogma and prejudice…
Let me do,
What I want to do…
I don’t dream of an unreasonable world,
But a world of reasonable limitations…
A fair world,
Where justice is not a delusion
Am I talking of an imaginary world?
No, I am not…
I want to be free,
Just like animals in forest
Just like birds in sky,
Just like busy ants,
Just like jumping squirrels,
Just like galloping horses…
Give me freedom…
Freedom from anger,
Freedom from attachment,
Freedom from anxiety,
Freedom from bitterness,
Freedom from craving,
Freedom from chaos,
Freedom from depression,
Freedom from dilemma,
Freedom from diseases,
Freedom from despair,
Freedom from darkness,
Freedom from deceit,
Freedom from dishonesty,
Freedom from envy,
Freedom from egotism,
Freedom from fear,
Freedom from frustration,
Freedom from fright,
Freedom from fury,
Freedom from grief,
Freedom from hatred,
Freedom from irritation,
Freedom from imprudence,
Freedom from jealousy,
Freedom from lies,
Freedom from loneliness,
Freedom from medicine,
Freedom from narcissism,
Freedom from oppression,
Freedom from pain,
Freedom from poverty,
Freedom from pride,
Freedom from resentment,
Freedom from rigidness,
Freedom from sorrow,
Freedom from subjugation,
Freedom from trouble,
Freedom from tears,
Freedom from torture,
Freedom from temptation,
Freedom from vanity,
Freedom above all,
From these mountains of challenges,
That I am surrounded internally and externally,
Let me be like a bee,
That sucks the nectar
From the flower of life,
Without harming it…
Like the beautiful lotus,
That thrives in dirty pond water…
Let me enjoy the freedom,
Without disturbing others…
Free from all bondages,
Allow me to dwell,
And let live,
A life of my choice,
The fresh air,
To fill my world,
Give this servant
From the precincts of life
Allow me to rest in peace,
In the bosom of your earth…
Copyright © Vinaya Joseph | Year Posted 2015
Which I dream now for few nights—to my surprise…!
As last night she was walking with me
On that willowy road,
And looked down in the dumps, and remorseful for all-- she ever did.
And when I tenderly asked her why?
She gave a quarrelsome reply,
“What! (Bulging her eyes out and wide);
He my Husband is not my Lover?
As I was—someone’s dearly loved…!
And I can feel it every single minute,
I am an unwanted wife but a moneymaking machine.
I…, I mourn my imprudence I called my wisdom,
Rejecting alas! Those merry days and nights in love
For this false fictitious living…!”
Well! I could sense it with ease
That she still loved me as ever,
And needed in bad time my arms’ refuge.
My God! let these dreams turn true
And she returns soon to my long wintered garden
As sweet spring.
Copyright © fayaz bhat | Year Posted 2014
It is dreadfully bitter
The taste of my imprudence
A brackish reminder
Bubbling acrid froth
To choke back
Aftershocks heave and pitch my
Acid courses over
Destroying hope of
The brine erodes each stone
Etches them with its indifferent regard
Leaving me a caustic cocktail
To slake a ruthless thirst
Nothing is sweet
Dreams are best left for dreamers
I will gather stones for my foundation
Copyright © Tess Norton | Year Posted 2014
Music makes one dance,
and the dancer expresses
the mood of its sound;
poetry makes one recite
verses that are lively or dark...
it's the state of the moment,
that voice trapped inside
longing to break free.
I lift the burden of heaviness
by letting out my breath
and give life to words
whether they sound soft or harsh,
impactful, shallow or profound...
I master the language that
only the poet understands.
Do I expect awards, handshakes
or lauds? None of these I meditate
to win the crown and scepter of the gods,
and undeserving of such glory or merit...
I let modesty outrun imprudence.
Whatever critics think of my work
as being excellent, or mediocre,
I pursue enlightenment in knowledge...
words and ideals that make wisdom grow.
My pen is more powerful when it does
something amazing and reveals
the purpose of its intent by mastering
the language that only the poet understands.
Written on 1/23/2017
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2017
The astute and the dumb are
found on this road we traverse;
the one with goals to set, the other
with no character, interest or talent...
can both coexsist and not clash?
Which one of these two individuals
can survive a biological warfare
without discipline and knowledge?
Most certainly, the one has studied
the activities of the superior minds
that somehow seem invincible to
whatever they encounter on the
battlefield or in the menacing air.
This is not a war between two
mythical gods, Jupiter and Saturn;
who took the side of the courageous
Titans? Today, nobody is immune to
such an Apocalypse event, it may partly
or entirely destroy our unique planet
on any erratic, or maddened moment.
Let the mindful guide the careless
and diverge them from their dramatic fate.
If History is a testament of lies and truth,
can it be meditated by some who are
about to repeat the mistakes of the fools?
The astute will prevail in any given
circumstance, the dumb will be subdued
for his ignorance and imprudence.
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2016
embedded in mankind’s soul
destroyed by humanities imprudence
Sponsor Constance La France ~ A Rambling Poet ~
Contest Name Six Lines of Poetry, Please
Copyright © cecil hickman | Year Posted 2011
Even the longest dream
has the folly and endurance
to win destiny's adversities,
and who's against it
with an expression of doubt,
but tries to change it fast
by showing malevolence and shame!
Even the longest dream encourages
the impatient and passionate hearts
to reveal those hidden emotions
and immoderate passions to others!
Even the longest dream
won't wake us up from our deep sleep;
and it isn't likely to set any extreme:
unless we fret and weep!
Even the longest dream
can't give us
neither hint or mystery,but it hastily
dissolves itself in dazzling sunlight;
how can it be
possible to dream,
if even the longest dream
flows like the swift waters of a stream?
Where will one find the real dreams
of one's heart?
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2006
Will liveliness find its way?
Can I see my friend again?
I ask such questions in search of answers,
but find nothing but afflicted heartbreak
when contradiction becomes aching past.
Forgiveness becomes a price
if woe becomes your regret.
I search for reasons to move on with ease,
search for amends from reparation found.
I must atone for the perplexed lost years.
I shan't seek unbearing pain
or things facing forlorn tears.
Stretched out before me is courage and joy.
I need repayment for wrongs committed,
wipe away my morose and disturbed fears.
I drown in depressed anguish,
intense grief and imprudence
can only cease when given one more chance.
I need to find peace of mind, but quittance
could squelch my agonized and intense soul.
My path's lapsed if it's traveled
too light with no warm regard.
Seven-Ten Poetry Contest
March 6, 2018
Copyright © Laura Loo | Year Posted 2018
Irrational deranged and ridiculous
Carrying-on with a fool trick of imprudence
More to bring joy rather than sadness
A crazy balderdash of daftness
Discreet acts of constant madness.
Absurd poppycock behaviour come’s fatuousness pleasures
Reasonable insanity of countless measures
Even an idiot had sort through all the dangers
No one can get hurt that’s preposterous...!
It's not quite senseless not quite a mistake
Illogical excitable ingenuous lapse to make
Faux pas foul up of a goofy gaffe
Next year will be different
A whole new set of Inadvisable claptraps.
All we are missing is a clown and a multi painted poodle
A jazzy jive of a crazy flapdoodle
Times not up until midnight wait for the whistle
Be careful because here comes another tommyrot twaddle.
BS applesauce of trivial acts of lunacy
A bit of tomfoolery and hogwash hooey
Enjoy the new tricks brought to your attention of memory
Imbecility and impractical ideas of stupidity
But a prank on a friend that can be hilariously funny
Happy April fool's day to you and everybody.
Copyright © Michael Robinson 2018
Copyright © Michael Robinson | Year Posted 2018