Best Individual Poems
I'm a balanced individual
I have a chip on both my shoulders,
And they are getting bigger
As each year I grow older.
I seem to begrudge the young their youth
It's just plain jealousy,
I envy all their years ahead,
So many more than me.
I hate it that my back aches
And that my knees are sore,
And how careful that I need to be
To pick something from the floor.
There are hairs growing in my ears,
Why on earth is that,
I can't bothered trimming them
I just wear a stretchy hat.
Is the reaper coming,
Will I get the nod,
I realise now what I've become,
I'm an old and grumpy sod !
Entry for
A contest on aging Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Emile Pinet.
31/5/2019. Placed 5th.
I was said to have mingled with the masses,
moving mysteriously through the multitudes unexpectedly,
familiarizing myself with countless souls, still they
don't know who I am.
Being destructive- that's me, ravaging- that's me,
causing havoc where ever I go is what I'm accused of,
still they don't know who I am.
I swept society away like a fierce wind devouring
everything in my path - women, men, children without
discrimination. I simply love how you point fingers
blaming each other, still you don't know who I am.
I've severely affected the growth of populations,
devastatingly infected people from every race,
creed, background on this planet, still they don't know
who I am.
Parties, experimental drugs & promiscuity are
a few of the things I indulge in, one night of careless
whispers & you won't forget me, still you don't know
who I am.
Lurking like a rapist in the dark of the night,
violating, attacking with unrelentless vigor, leaving
behind a path of fear & confusion, still you don't know
who I am.
And now without further adieu, coming to the stage -
I introduce. . . . . . Death is the final curtain call,
welcome to the playhouse of AIDS.
God almighty
Dangerous fire
My fiancé
What happens to the soul
Never Again
Wowza
Happy to survive
For belief
I'm extremely visual
On first impressions
Encompassing chemicals
For passive aggression
Not a lick of cynical
Seeing other's position
If actions prove equivocal
I have a defensive intuition
I abide by my rituals
Obsessive compulsive
With a heart quite gullible
I'll be the first to forgive
If you speak political
Find another ear
While I opt for mystical
Logic struggles to adhere
I act for principle
Though, often times
I'm a bit too colorful
And tempt the lines
My gift is analytical
Language evokes bliss
Knowledge is critical
If not more, I know less
I despise superficial
As you can see
Honesty is essential
For me to feel free
You may think atypical
If my words fall short
But the structure is essential
An intelligence port
If you walk away critical
I respect your hot air
Words written were intentional
For ignorance, I won't spare
If you happen on a field of roses…swaying in the afternoon sun
It is often difficult to discover the individual beauty of each one.
Today I’d like to introduce you to one particular flower that I chose
with a name as beautiful as she is…it’s called the Fiona Rose.
I had the pleasure of officiating our son’s wedding…
which means it was from my lips the ceremony unfurled
but it’s not me I want to talk about…it’s Fiona…the flower girl.
I hadn’t met Fiona at the rehearsal…hadn’t yet felt the glow of her smile….
The first time I happened to see her…she was tossing flowers while dancing down the aisle.
From the moment I saw her step into the aisle…I was mesmerized…spellbound
at the graceful way she tossed her flowers and how their colors painted the ground…
When she reached the end of the aisle…she was as happy as can be….
she stopped her flower tossing and she smiled up at me…
We shared that smile for a moment…that was actually the first time we would meet…
then she turned around with her basket in hand…and hopped back to her seat.
And I thought how each flower she tossed was unique…
one of nature’s many gems…
each one beautiful in their own way…just like the child tossing them.
Admittedly I may be a little biased…but that moment she smiled up at me…
was the perfect beginning to one of the most beautiful weddings I will ever see.…
For not only was I there to marry Amy and Ryan…
to feel their love…to hear the vows they chose…
but I was also there to see Fiona…
and the beauty of one rose.
Think you can replace me? Well your wrong, I am one of a kind, and you wont find another chick like me.
I am strong, soft, caring, loving and cold. Stab me in the back and I'll stab yours, don't mess with me, and I wont you.
I'm a biker, stoner, absolute nerd, role player, cook, and a few more in between.
I'm a book worm, gamer, total T.V. Watcher, and that's just to name a few.
I'm a sister, niece, daughter and mother, and I've seen some stuff too..
My life has been filled with heartache, sorrow and joy, Kids, Bullies, friends and more.
Crushes, love, broken promises, shattered hearts, and that's just to start.
Beat, broken, lost and scared, crazy, maned, terrified, and hospitalized.
I learned to speak my real name, see myself for who I really am...
A strong, caring, broken, lost, nerd, stoner,biker, role player, reader, cook, writer, poet, happy, scared, lonely, girl, woman, chick, wiccan, loved, hated, and unique person, anyone could ever meet.
I look around me and feel something missing
Not that I can see, but strongly can feel…
I want to fix it, but strangely, it can’t heal.
My friend had changed, and that angered me…
She said she wanted to be perfect, and then dodged me
It hurts my feelings, but I won’t follow
‘Cause sorry, no one can be perfect...
People try to copy others, instead of learning from one another
You start acting like a fool
Thinking it will make you look cool
Believing no one will mess with you
Wanting everyone to love you…
But life is not a plan, its art.
You don’t know what may happen, but you have expectations
And instead you end up with some reflections
It happens to everyone...not just you.
No one is perfect, but everyone is special
Special, because they are different
Different than everybody else
Because they are being themselves…
I am 100% original
A free thinking individual
That nobody can belittle…
Because we are all the same…
So just simply be yourself.
I am tired of being punished for the actions of others.
I did not rob you.
I did not hurt you.
I did not do any wrong by you.
Do not hold me accountable for their actions.
If someone else was a loudmouth
It is not my fault.
I have no control over other peoples actions.
I am not their keeper.
I am me.
I am only responsible for me.
I am not the stereotype.
Don't treat me as such.
See me as I am.
Not as they are.
Stop punishing me for their actions.
See me as the individual that I am.
Put your hate and ignorance aside.
Treat me the way I deserve.
Look at who I am.
Judge me for MY actions only.
Stop grouping me.
Stop taking my individuality away.
Do not blame me for what they did anymore.
I am an individual.
I expect to be treated as such.
Solely self inflicted
Jury Judged Convicted
On them I've fed
Salty years I've bled
A society in form, though not in norm
Their eyes rake as headless mouths intake
A knotted pine snake heedless to participate,
I am in the middle of a thirst that slaked so little...
I freaked when steel teeth gleamed brittle solutions;
A fistful of retribution means bitter restitution.
Oh Give me the civic salivation,
In this petri dish of a nation!
Drench in cream, stir in oil, I will never eat that!
With blow hards and carbs, and ministries of garbs;
You're not wolf, you're wolfs dying breath contained.
As bloody sheets and gray streets bleed blood into shame,
Where monkey thimbles play rat -a -tat – tat on your heart...
And mind games are healthy missteps into tripped up reality,
While hat tricks plagues a story played by mindless pricks
And lightening strikes thrice on thunder driven carrion.
Touche.
T earing at the seams to scratch its way inside
E mpty hollow being with the lonliness that I hide
L istening without seeing, tortured in all of thought
E very single thing is now whatever that it's not
P rogrammed message beamed into the victims head
A nswers no longer seeking, still alive but sort of dead
T orture is the theme, Schizophrenia made by design
H earing so silently, sounds of something that arn't mine
E motions disappear as my feelings have passed away
T urning into the nothing which you see in me today
I ntels frequency wave disease, creating vegetables to remain
C oincidence born in consequence of the ouside in all my pain
bmdavey@10/27/19
Express yourself,
I love the way how you can be as different as you are,
The way you make this living seem so easy though it's hard,
That twinkle in your eye you must something of the stars,
Your freedom's inspiration such a wondrous piece of art,
Some choose to be themselves while others merely just a clone,
The fear of being judged or being told they're right or wrong,
Has silenced many birds though within they hold a song,
So when you're being you I find the courage to be strong,
And stand on my beliefs if I ain't causing any harm,
We all love sunny days but beauty's even in a storm,
I love the way you paint a different picture than the others,
And go against the grain with variety of colors,
It shows that your spirit and your soul truly lovers,
And how you love yourself shows the world how to love us,
Your life is a canvas like the skies up above us,
And I can picture you as the sun shining for us,
Admiring the faith you have in you is so refreshing,
Happiness ensured makes this life so progressive,
Confidence in self I believe is a blessing,
So never underestimate the value of your essence,
I love the way how you can be as different as you are,
The way you make this living seem so easy though it's hard,
That twinkle in your eye you must be something of the stars,
Your freedom's inspiration such a wondrous piece of art,
Express yourself.
A war on individual rights
is brewing in the U.S. of A.
Seems a woman has no control
over her body as of today
And how many more personal intrusions
are headed our way?
Seems we concerned poets ought
to be broadcasting our say!
One ideological group is taking advantage
of its political clout
Bandying all sorts of crazy
conspiracy theories and ideas about,
Creating chaos in our schools
over imaginary fears they spout --
Seems they ought to find something
better to do than shout.
Written May 6, 2022
Good thoughts guide a righteous heart making it shine with the purity of a dove...
and they lead it to compassion through manifested love;
we all must share it and honor it to please our Creator,
to allow sins to be forgiven and forgotten by Him through the perfect Mentor!
Minds are sinful, harmful, destructive, rebellious and unforgiving;
very rare we find one that is kind, selfless and giving...
reaching out to offer solace and friendship without greed!
Look inside the humble mind of an individual...
feel its thirst for peace that's being dreamed by all
and realize that any loving being doesn't see color, race and creed!
All is not lost from death
Fall of spirit redeems instantly
When caddy corners of history turn pages
As we wander our own back pages
The faces of self change to murmur
Time's poise of flashing moments occurs
I remember the ascent of age
Dawning mind tumbling unknowing
The gash it would leave on the ghost of today
Seeming aimless the forming of futures
Temples of thought rearranged and displayed
What signals are now sent to future?
As ideas created from the lines of today
Will be recalled on later quicksand trekking
INDIVIDUAL SIGNALS
the contemporary
long nurtured
a sympathy
lifelong regained
so sensual
in
an array of
tactility
& subtler change
& more incisive
a plethora
in mind to breathe
when it lures
to encourage thoughts
invoking nostalgia
to engage
to emerge
&compel
trauma
to remember
&
conjure
displacement
THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE without grammatical symbols the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and respond thus making the form a two way interplay and often a unique interpretation by the enigma so derived