Best Injuring Poems
Living the most complete life--
No man deserves less or more from living than another
From a tiny drop of nectar, a flower blooms
One blossom though different invites the same appraisal
Such is the life of a man…he merits happiness and fulfillment
Survey life’s purpose--
Assess what is the best and the worst that can come
If something is meant to be, it will find a way to happen
Never walk without knowing where to go
If no design, the desire may go unfulfilled
Follow the perfection of nature--
The butterfly flutters by radiating beauty
What is forgotten is how it attains its loveliness
Beginning as a hideous larvae, then the ungainly caterpillar
Bursts out of the cocoon as the magnificent butterfly.
Nature’s plan-- the butterfly thrives
Planning is the key--
Humanity mimics the beautiful insect
Once an unknown quantity, man wrestles with his prospects
A dream develops with deeply planted character and strength
Man takes small steps if he knows where he is going
Thus, a man finds the way to his aspirations.
Hold fast to dreams--
Planting the feet assures nothing
Impediments block the way
Sometimes, days open up like flowers blooming despite adversity
Sometimes, man leans too far forward injuring himself in his fall
Sometimes, he opens up his wings and flies needing no net to catch him
Test the possibilities--
To have a life well lived,
Man should venture outside his comfort zone
Do something that scares him every day
Dwell in the here and now but look to the future…
Grab hold of a smile and never let it go.
Categories:
injuring, life,
Form:
Free verse
Beyond Despair
despair
heavy, discordant
stomping, injuring, impeding
stamina, outlook, impulse, dreams
refreshing, aiding, inspiriting
priceless, heartfelt
hope
Categories:
injuring, angst, emotions, faith, feelings,
Form:
Diamante
Running hard from your most inner feeling,
Often forgetting to nurture yourself,
From your truth, you are actually reeling
Putting your emotions high on a shelf,
Living an out-of-touch unfulfilled life,
Originality hidden from self…
Injuring damaged psyche like a knife,
Meticulously hiding your inner light,
Bending to his will as a Stepford Wife.
Psychic feelings that should feel just right
Given to His spiritual listeners,
Who can understand with all of their might
Categories:
injuring, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Terza Rima
Deep in the dungeon in the back left corner
Was a mere shell of what was once a man.
He was shackled to the wall of his own design
By the love of his lady so fair, and divine
The queen of a land so far away in time
With a king who held her ever so dear
Locking them away alone from peasant's view
None of his subjects gazed upon this mentally ill king
He had a smothering love for his queen,
Abusing her in every way
Never there for love, but only in his mind
She hadn't felt his touch in years, other than abuse
Then one day her knight came in on his white steed
They loved under moonlight each night in secrecy
Hiding their treasonous affair from the evil king
Until one night he caught them
The knight dueled injuring the king's ability to speak
The queen fearing their treasonous death
Plotted and schemed as not to be beheaded
To the knight's chamber they carried him
Dousing the room in oil laying him on the floor
Dropping the lantern the knight held
Flames rose in the chamber, consuming him
The queen screamed to the subjects for help
All the court came running to douse the fire out
The knight and queen really started
The true king was unrecognizable and couldn't even whisper
The knight came forward as her husband the king
The queen burst into tears,
Explaining how the knight attacked her,
Setting the room ablaze
All his subjects bowed before the knight, the changeling
I am sorry dear king, the subjects said
As the knight pulled the queen to him,
Ushering them to take him away, to the dungeon below,
Shackled, and chained, in his own kingdom
In the dungeon the king waited, to be beheaded
The knight secretly became the king instantly
Taking his spot next to the love of his life, the queen
No one suspected a single thing
She visited the king one last time before he died
Telling him how she loved him, stroking his cheek
Watching the next day as they beheaded him,
Hiding her head in her knight unknown
Her dark side she displayed
The day her knight became her king
And her king became some subhuman thing
He had truly always been
The knight now the king with his lovely queen
Ruled for many years, having ten children
Of tainted royal blood, but no one ever knew
Their secret love and darkest treason ever committed.
Categories:
injuring, adventure, death, fantasy, mystery,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Stef, born in New Zealand’s fine country,
Moved to Canada aged 4 with her parents,
Where she had a boating accident aged 9,
Which amputated her right foot for her life.
She’s married to fellow Paralympian fast,
Canadian wheelchair racer Brent Lakatos,
And they both train at Loughborough Uni,
Where there’s a plethora of sports facilities.
Stef graduated from good Queens University,
In Biochemistry with honours and at times,
Is a professional speaker, a fashion model,
And lay preacher of the gospel and the way.
Before the accident Stephanie played rugby,
But afterwards she could not do this because,
Her prosthetic was at risk of detaching itself,
Mid-game and injuring near placed players.
So she went into track and field athletics,
Practised until she became sick and tired,
Which saw her make the 2008 Paralympics,
In Beijing when she won gold for the sprint.
She graced the podium often at small meets,
In Manchester and in London. Christchurch
Saw her flourish when she won two bronzes:
One for the long jump and one for the 200m.
In Swansea at the European games in 2014,
Stef took home for the T44 long jump a gold,
And in the London Paras which introduced,
So many to disability sport, she won a silver.
In Rio she won another silver, on the mark
For TeamGB. She hasn’t always represented,
Britain because when she was much younger,
She competed for Canada’s rocky territory.
Categories:
injuring, sports, strength,
Form:
Blank verse
Terror
violent ,cruel
plotting, driving , hiding
injuring innocent people
Panic
Categories:
injuring, anti bullying, conflict, discrimination,
Form:
Cinquain
“ ... the bee collects nectar and departs without
injuring the flower, or its color or fragrance .... "
Quote from _ Quotefancy
I am a bee and my life is an eternal struggle
each day I need nectar and pollen to survive
I also need water- but I have found a haven
a bee friendly city garden created with love
oh, I don't mind sharing it with butterflies
and hummingbirds, I know they need food too !
I have watched the young women planting
she is so calm and tranquil and knows
exactly what I like. How did she know that
I cannot see red, but love purple and yellow
and I don't mind blue and white, but no red !
She has created a sweet garden of delight
with purple coneflowers, black eyed susan
sunflowers, daisies, lupines, zinnias, phlox
yarrow, asters and even herbs that I love
like rosemary, oregano, basil and chives,
of course, in reality I do not know their names !
One day, I made a mistake and flew inside
an open door, I was in a daze and was buzzing
but she did not hurt me but cupped her hands
and carried me back outside and placed me
gently on a purple coneflower, that was nice !
She even considered that we need to drink
and has given us a bird bath of clean water
well, I have to share it with the butterflies
and birds, ever seen a hummingbird take a bath !
Oh, I love my wildflower haven . . .
____________________
May 27, 2022
Poetry/Personification/The Bee Haven
Copyright Protected, ID 05-1459-026-27
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Bee Creative
sponsor, Matt Caliri, Judged 07/1712022
Categories:
injuring, animal, emotions,
Form:
Personification
~Domestic Violence Hurts~
Often, after leaving home in the 1980's I pondered in caring ways with a philosophy of sorts that we can either have a positive impact or negative and there really isn't an in between when relating to each other.
I found myself in dark places with the darkest of people just focusing on a shimmer of light, hoping to open that up on some individuals and when they began to recognize it, and a slight smile would come across thir face I would make my way to another dark corner with another hopelessly alone man or woman to do my humanitarian works.
One person though I was no match for. After six long months he said I saved his life. After seeing him in near respiratory failure with a needle hanging from his arm, sweat beads the size of pencil erasers and gasping for a deepened breath; to see his face, drug free was amazing and though I knew that eventually I would move on, I became a victim and later the victor because alone I stand to make a difference and share my stories with others to give hope and enlightenment at the causality of violence.
In the summer of 1985 he asked me to have children with him. At first I said no. Many nights into they long conversations, not knowing exactly what my travels would include. I then with an endeared heart agreed, knowing that I could make a very nurturing mother and had much to teach and give.
After our first child, he became very controlling. Emotionally injuring me was a way for him to find a level that he was comfortable at.
Then later the drunken physical confrontations that anything could set off. He beat me for the way others had treated him, his family, his past girlfriends. He would go into black outs as I stood still taking the blows over the years (forgetting my cause)I remember I would look into his eyes as he was hurting me, looking for some kind of answer to the reason why, and I drew a blank every time.
I was a nurturing mother of three, I was a protective parent after all, he only hit me? Surely I could get past that.
~continued~
Categories:
injuring, abuse, care, drug,
Form:
Narrative
An Ariana Grande concert was struck by an explosion
in northern England on 22nd May 2017
killing at least 22 people and injuring many
there was a massive flash and
then a bang and smoke all around
hundreds of people could be seen
streaming away in confusion and chaos
nobody was getting any sense
it was smoke everywhere and
shoes on the ground from people trying to flee.
it was frantic and unbridled
a little girl and boy
aged about eight or nine distraught
as they couldn't find their dad
all were screaming and running,
dropping their coats and phones,
just scrambling to safety
undoubtedly it was an appalling terrorist attack
and needs to be condemned and denunciated
nuts and bolts littering the ground near blast scene
as a likely terrorist attack
ripped through a crowd of teenagers
the prone bodies of those
who had been wounded and killed,
as well as others who were streaked with blood and
were staggering away from the scene
teenagers were screaming and running
in the aftermath of the blast
parents were frantically attempting
to locate their children and relatives
people were scattered everywhere.
And some of them looked dead also
such a tyrannical doctrine is
an indelible blot on the name of humanity
and a challenge for those
who talk of peace and human rights always
but as an emotional poet, my heart is broken
for those poor children and
for all those families
with an empty house that black night
Blanket coverage in the news media,
brave words by leaders, forests of flowers
at the scenes of attack, forensic reconstruction
by the police, and a return to normalcy
needs no repeating that terrorism knows no borders
and that the globalization of terror is a reality
let's pray to god that all departed souls
may rest in peace
(By Kishan Negi)
Categories:
injuring, emotions, scary, violence,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Between us there are seas,
There is an observed love.
There are nights in glow of morn,
Gloomy and miserable
Is it a bevy of birds--
Or an angel from my windows
Overlooks?
Ah, there are evenings
From fire and salt
There grunts launched by shadows
There are thorns injuring dreams
There is a comma, wriggling
Between dusk and twilight
Creates from the night, tales
From the dream, Legends
Ah, O nights that never seen!
If you were, crimson, green or yellow!
Glows, in my poetry now, and forever
Written by © Fatima Nusairat
Categories:
injuring, sea,
Form:
Free verse
Poetry to me is a very beautiful thing,
It’s about your identity and community,
About friends, family and kind feeling,
And it’s about how you place in society.
It reflects upon your sexual partners,
References them as your mind’s pivot,
What love’s base is, about its garners,
And what should be loves fine ingot.
It explains sociology, culture and trends,
Shows your diversity, admits your choices,
Specifies any displacement for kind amends,
Any disorientation for your readers’ voices.
I believe poetry can just be for yourself,
For your own edification and collection,
Because if by it you identify as an elf,
You won’t be defined as uncanny deviation.
Indeed, deviation does not exist in poetry,
Nor does it form the reason for its writing;
Poetry embraces honesty, love and sobriety,
With an imagination where truth is flying.
The credibility of poetry goes unquestioned,
Because if you lie by it, you’ll feel the traction,
It always takes you seriously unreasoned,
Never disqualifying a difficult emotion.
Your awkward emotions are disquisition, code,
Eagerness and enthusiasm are their reception;
Sociology by it can become your chatting mode,
And politics can become your injuring person.
Poetry as a literary art is fructuous with stance,
Offering a handshake to any from a dumb;
Sets alight concepts and feelings to enhance,
Lives that may otherwise be under the thumb.
Categories:
injuring, language, people, philosophy, poems,
Form:
Quatrain
Images
Imprint of holocaust
indelibly entrenched
implodes with recurrence
Injuring array of
icons evokes nightmares
inciting shrill screams of
infant left motherless
Contest Pleiades I
Date Feb25 2017
Categories:
injuring, abuse, baby,
Form:
Verse
How do you live in a rainbow world all of the time?
The woman had no answer, because she believed in faeries.
She was surrounded by the sound of pixie wings.
Dragonflies knew her name.
She stared at the man who had asked her.
Maybe it is easy because I believe in faeries she whispered.
He frowned at her naivety and turned away.
Two damselflies fluttered after him.
One landed gently on his shoulder.
Darned bee! He snarled.
His world was putrid greenish gray.
He was not about to believe in damselflies or faeries.
I wonder what happened to him? The monarch asked.
We need to uplift him, said the geraniums. They smiled broadly.
He stomped them into the ground, injuring their petals.
Categories:
injuring, friendship,
Form:
Free verse
Jock stumbled - pals called him a wus
(No injury was obvious)
But Jock bruised his willy
And now he feels silly
With todger strapped up in a truss
WRITTEN BY JAN ALLISON
Old Jock had injured and bruised his man thing
His doc said "Jock, you'll need a tartan sling"
He's now looking quite built
Bulging under his kilt
Lassies swoon when he does the Highland fling.
After a week his thing turned black and blue
Jock said "hoots mon, what am I ganna do"
But he'd left it too late
Doc had to amputate
And now poor Jock has to sit on the loo.
WRITTEN BY TOM CUNNINGHAM
He washed his new jock, it was new
So it tightly embraced both its crew
But after the race
Oh what a disgrace
His now aching partners were blue
WRITTEN BY JOHN LAWLESS
Jock stumbled and he landed face down
Injuring the jewel in his crown
His bruised pride and joy swelled
By awe it was beheld
Jock's tackle became talk of the town.
The doctor said I know just the thing
To give support to your ding-a-ling
Doc got Jock's bits strapped up
Jock swore and he cussed
For doc said it could be longstanding.
Jock's dilemma can be seen by all
He's going nuts because of the fall
He's craving free willy
To swing willy-nilly
And longs to unstrap his cannon ball.
WRITTEN BY BELLE BELLEVUE
Now Jock knew about liquid nitrogen
But sprayed on far more than he might have done
So just when it mattered
One tap and it shattered
And Jock said Hoots mon, me old fright’ner’s gone
He said Doc, I need a new caber
My wife has never gone through labour
The Doc held his gaze
Grabbed three treble A’s
And sewed on on a three foot light sabre
WRITTEN BY TERRY FLOOD
Jock managed to get his willy banged up,
He cried loud like a little newborn pup,
Stayed in bed a week,
It hurt to take a leak,
All because he slipped on his sippy cup
WRITTEN BY ALEXIS Y
IF ANYONE WISHES TO ADD POEMS PLEASE SOUPMAIL THEM TO ME
Categories:
injuring, humorous,
Form:
Limerick
Whale Sharks are listed as, endangered
and are found in, all tropical oceans on the planet
They are the largest fish and nothing like the Titanic
and their white spotted skin, makes them known as gentle giants
Adults are often seen feeding, at the ocean’s surface
but can dive one thousand meters, to feed on plankton
They can travel very long distances, for the need to feed
to sustain their huge size, and their need of reproduction
They are highly valued, on the international black markets
for the human need of greed, of their meat, oil and fins
They are victims of bycatch, when fishing for the supermarkets
and fishing disturbs their feeding, that can led to propeller injuring
Categories:
injuring, animal, beautiful, earth, education,
Form:
Rhyme