Best Invents Poems
Why, the greatest enemy of man is man
for man has subdued everything else
Fear not the tiger, fear the murderer's plan
Just hearken well to what history yells!
At times twas jingoism, at times a rancorous desire to do harm
Fear just man's malice and his ugly evil
If his dagger blow fails, he'll get you by black magic charm
His heart and mind alone well shelter the devil.
For how many fall prey to lions or snakes
one could even count them on fingers
Man invents a cure for smallpox but missiles too he makes
and he mercilessly kills without harbingers.
Man invented as many things for his destruction and harm
as he did for his benefit and good
He's inventor of bombs as well as tractors on the farm
And doesn't he detest acting as he should?
Man alone is behind the bloodiest of bloodshed
The angels too had foreseen his wars and battles
From the gory battlefield to the humble homestead
with the shrieks of murder our earth forever rattles!
Close your doors and your home secure
not to deter beasts, but to lock out the robber, the thief
For no greater danger than man lurks there for sure
Fear not the fierce bull, that you can turn into beef!
Wild beasts might be known to gobble us up
but isn't man as well found to be a cannibal?
Gosh, humans too on human flesh do sup
Man tis far more fearsome than any poor animal.
The greatest enemy of man thus is man himself
How much blood has he ruthlessly spilt of his own kind
Look out for the bottle of poison on his shelf
Till the deed is done, no knowing what goes on in his mind.
The poor young lady refrains from venturing out at night
How now, what does she so fear?
She fears nothing but assault by man's might
so rarely is she stalked by a grizzly bear!
Fortunately for us, this ain't how it always ends
man can always be the best of friends
So we can still count more on buddies and cronies
instead of focusing on foes and fiends.
For man he can be a hero and saviour
if judicious he is about right and wrong behaviour.
Besides religion as I know, infact does actually foretell
That the end of ALL killers and murderers
is that inferno of divine wrath we all know as hell!
"Please Allow Me to Speak for Him"
by: Eric L. Boddie
Strength is boundless within his words
In the hearts of many, he should be heard
Lent me his pen one time in the past
Even his dark stuff reveals the awesome skill he has
Nothing can destroy a heart that's really pure
The Answer Is Christ, The Only Known Cure
Once He Arrives, everything makes sense
Nothing but his pen can get that intense
Each selection I have read makes me more appreciate what his pen invents
I've got a fist full of Buddha,
And a fist full of Rand,
A pocket full of Jesus,
And the other's filled with sand,
That's in case I need to make some glass,
As it will proceed my foot in relation to your class,
That's a diametric description of an uncommon process,
I use it to repel obnoxious thoughts and logic,
The political storm seems to be the hot topic,
But what I see is dinosaurs in power,
Who don't want to get off it,
The ball, you dropped it,
Gigs up, you lost it,
Wings done, let's sauce 'em,
Awareness has blossomed,
We done playing possum,
You're boss, we want him,
Bring him down to the bottom,
And let's make him aware of our consciousness.
Are you really missing this?
Yo this is Excentrix,
Rich's psyche been known to split in an instant,
I represent a hulk like samurai witch,
Equipped to solve problems via the switch,
Cuz the man inside there is just a little kid,
See I tell the truth even when I lie,
Puttin' juice in busted axioms like Pie in the Sky,
"Yo dude, you know that's an idiom?"
Suck it, you're an idiot,
Guards, get rid of him!
I'm a linguistic mystic,
Suffering from a transpiritual sickness,
Where I'll always be a kid,
And live through my own deliverance.
Witness as I stab my own body of Christ,
Feels so nice to bleed emotion into the night,
With Excentrix as my weapon of my own conception,
I can justify intervention into the seas of deception,
Cleverly apply art to the lesson,
Of respecting yourself and recognizing transgression,
I don't need a stinking studio session,
Just flex my pen and in the end I'm winning,
My mental digestion invents a feeling,
That feeling going to climb me to the top of nimbus,
Behind us is a portal to another dimension,
Forgot to mention I'm the medium for the transmission,
I must be the exception because I'm good at listening.
I flip furniture when pressured,
Then turn a lecture,
Into a story told next to a lectern,
No disrespect sir,
But I'm disturbed by your indiscretion,
So curb your enthusiasm,
Before I burn this whole place down with plasma,
I got the EMP flow I brought back from the Matrix,
Excentrix is MVP for knowing when to go back to the basics,
Take it from me,
The artistic process is worth taking a stab at,
Just to prove that we're all humans,
And American Celebrity is mostly a magic act.
*Like Caesar I wrote this in the 3rd person:)
In third person he talks just like Caesar
Stuffing bagfuls of sweets in the freezer
Mumbles loud in his sleep
An appointment can’t keep
Often plucks at his brows with a tweezer.
With false tan he conceals his complexion
In shop windows inspects his reflection
Cracks his fingers and neck
And exclaims ‘What the heck!’
When he drinks has no sense of direction.
He’s allergic to pollen and sneezes
Throwing up at the smell of blue cheeses
Hair extensions he wears
When it’s windy he swears
Swallows tablets in fear of diseases.
He invents and tells lies for no reason
Any week any month any season
Does it all with a smirk
(Yes, that’s also a quirk!)
In a cell he could end for high treason!
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
For the Contest “Quirks”
Hosted by Madison Demetros
© 9th February 2018
South Of The (United States) Border...
(Reigns A Welter Of Disorder)
Caravans comprising multitudinous
peoples plodded a steady course
analogous to iron filings drawn by
strong magnetic force
gravitational pull generated
by North America
an irresistible source,
which tug felt
nearly all the way round
webbed wide world beckoning
for waves of humanity
figuratively donned as spawning fish,
toward which currently dimming
beacon of democracy flickr
Trump might extinguish
though tis quite heart
breaking to experience
vicariously as one collective soul,
these desperate folks
ambitious to seek asylum,
(and eventual citizenship),
while this "FAKE" president
invents many a...holy SMOKES
outrageous, nefarious, and malicious
dagger o type cruel barbed wire
accusing, condemning, and emasculating,
(I could continue),
but ye dear reader would tire
unless individuals
affected by xenophobia
countenance same stance
as Commander in Chief,
or contrariwise some
like minded
thinkers, rack coon sitter
the migrant situation dire,
would effectively serve me
as preaching to
the Unitarian choir,
yet any sensate
person must admit
tis quite upsetting, lamenting,
and agonizing to witness
hordes of persons treated like
some pestilential
eyesore dagnabbit,
yes this chap can
endlessly spout flibbertigibbet,
though thee crux of my opinion,
inspires a poem express
sing supportive emotions
particularly acknowledging,
how these masses (thousands)
of vulnerable individuals
show true grit,
nonetheless yours truly,
would be hard pressed
for an immediate
humane solution to corral
this extensive kit
and caboodle, though this generic guy
with a poetic knack
shakes his noggin
watching armed flack
delivered from border patrol agents/
United States military, lack
restraint, and who outright attack
trespassers at point
blank range that pack,
a deadly (Judge Judy ish
huss) punch smack
king young ones
upside the head forcing
everyone to backtrack
to their homeland of
persecution by crack
headed gang members, which thugs
violently land a deadly whack!
She is not made of atoms,
but aftermaths—
the kind that linger in a room long after
the lights remember to flicker back on.
Her spine?
An origami of fallen yesterdays,
creased by collapse,
but folded forward into flight.
They call it resilience,
but she knows better—
it’s architecture,
a cathedral of nerve built from
"this will not break me,"
hummed on repeat until it didn’t.
She speaks fluent scar.
Not in pity,
but in translation.
She translates grief into gardens,
anger into architecture,
your silence into a symphony
with minor keys,
because sadness, too, deserves an audience.
Her empathy is not soft.
It is surgical.
It sees you,
sutures you,
and leaves you with just enough scar
to remember you survived.
And her creativity?
It’s less coloring-book, more quantum mechanics.
She rearranges particles of pain
into poetry,
invents emotions that haven’t been named yet,
spins metaphors out of moonlight
and missed calls.
She is the punchline of a cosmic joke
you didn’t know you were telling—
a glitch in the matrix
that decided to build a garden in the code.
Not here to be understood,
but to unmake the question.
Not here to fit—
but to fracture the mold
and plant sunflowers in the cracks.
She is not your mirror.
She is your prism.
Try to define her—
and she will refract.
The weirdest beast inhabits Earth;
A Human with a brain. It’s large but uses
a tiny bit of what's bestowed at birth.
Whatever primal concept Man chooses,
catastrophes usually soon arise.
Developed fire, but readily is burned,
Invents the wheel, then underneath he dies.
You'd think he would eventually learn.
Impossible you say? I think your right!
This is the beast who thought the world was flat.
Pathetic creature never was that bright.
But ask him if he is he’ll laugh at that
inquiry. Arrogance asserts itself
when having high opinion of ones self.
sole am i
meat locker are we
apeiron births god
pith distills self
self distills pith
god births apeiron
we are locker meat
i am sole
already dead am i
nihil gestates genesis
corpse digests worm
bone ensouls flesh
flesh ensouls bone
worm digests corpse
genesis gestates nihil
i am dead already
damned am i
yesterday flays tomorrow
flesh exuvial are we
pitiless is time
time is pitiless
we are exuvial flesh
tomorrow flays yesterday
i am damned
alone am i
nothing begets thought
clay invents god
dust unbegotten are we
we are unbegotten dust
god invents clay
thought begets nothing
i am alone
nihil kills nihil
Nihil Kills
We hear, then reason; "-ane" becomes a chain,
Mundane, inane, profane — in one shared refrain.
The ear makes kin; the mind supplies the blame.
Their sound alone condemns an innocent name.
But '-ane' has no common ancestor that's known.
No single root from which these shades have grown.
They're joined by sound, not blood; a chance refrain,
They're strange bedfellows, lodged inside the brain.
'Mundane' simply means the earth beneath our feet.
The dust, the stars, the bitter, and the so sweet.
No dullness is dealt within its core domain;
We dulled the world, then christened it 'Mundane'.
'Profane' stood simply outside sacred ground,
Beyond the shrine, where ordinary life was found.
But thresholds hardened; differences gathered blame.
What stood beyond the sacred, gathered within its shame.
'Inane' was empty, hollow, a void within.
While 'vain' knew emptiness through a different kin.
Their meanings conjoined, though separate they remain—
Two roads to nothing, rhyming within the brain.
Then 'bane' arrived from quite another tree,
In Old English it's 'bana': death and enmity.
No Latin cousins riding on the train—
A killer merely dressed to rhyme with “-ane.”
So 'mundane', 'vain', 'profane', 'inane' and 'bane'.
Parade like blood relations throughout the brain.
The rhyme persuades; resemblance stakes its claim.
The ear invents a bloodline with which to inflame.
We hear resemblance, then presume a chain.
One word's dark shadow stains another's name.
A rhyme becomes a verdict; sound becomes blame.
Those unrelated roots all inherit borrowed shame.
We forge from echoes pedigrees of blame.
Make strangers kin, then stain them in our game.
Each word stood innocent; our ears supplied the stain—
We dulled the world, then christened it “Mundane”.
A man sitting on a toilet seat giving strength to his belly,
though resting his chin on his hand imitating the thinker
who is sitting in front of the gate of hell with deep thoughts,
naked on the bottom-half because he couldn't get completely naked
like the thinker, excretes waste from his body.
Although the waste excreted from his body can be flushed out
it may alleviate him for a while, the belly still is a bit uneasy
from the accumulated evil thoughts he kept in his body for years,
won't be able to flush out.
That's why the toilet seat starts to crack,
and because overly abusing the lower body
the pain creeps up from the bottom of the pit,
and that would be the entrance to the little hell.
If you see it from another angle, you can say that
the water from the toilet is the water of Lethe, which
will merge into Elysium, and therefore it may be Utopia;
then why squat down on the toilet seat troubled.
It's rather interesting to watch life,
since he is unable to filter the root of the larger hell
that is lurking somewhere in his body, though,
he fell into own dodge, condemning the lower belly,
unable to leave the toilet.
You are a weary wanderer going after a soul that drifted away;
you are a befogged soul facing hell but turning away from it,
and anchored the weight of your mind to the hell that is
on the other side of the world, sniffing a nauseous smell of sulfur
bubbling up from the bottom of the deep sea.
You are a wounded charger dashing aimlessly through the midst
of the smoke of battle and the rain of bullets, therefore, though
you have a mane you are unable to rise or call the wind, yet carrying
a self-conceited pedant who favors the use of unfamiliar words and
invents odd phrases to show-off on your back.
Why don't you, instead of pacing in hell,
swallow a handful of powder to help loosen the bowels excrete
the layer after layers of evil thoughts and the heaps of wastes
accumulated in the body for decades.
It isn’t the toil
but drive,
that wears down a man.
Abilities and choices
are infinite,
but where is time
when duties are many.
Man is a slave
to his freedom of choice.
Unable to commit
freedom masters him,
assigns the lot,
prescribes course of action
and makes his fate.
All men are free,
but they put on shackles themselves
and cry out against tyranny.
Defeating own self
man invents demons and evil
to sacrifice a goat that hasn’t escaped.
Restless pursuit of freedom
tires a man down into slavery.
Freedom becomes a dream
men awake cannot see.
A Champion must lust for that ancient adrenaline
the primal prize alive in the eyes, trophy of thunder in the pulse,
a Champion's heart welcomes adversity with teeth gleaming sharply,
worships the battlefield with risk righteous in ripped tradition,
doesn't celebrate the strikes that knock the foe into awe
finds glory in striving for the impossible
creates Legend from the unthinkable become visible,
buries the adversary's soul in the winter of forever woe,
the Champion says with disciplined effort and presence pure in practice,
lightning is comin for you, blasting your bones, bashing your boasts
tear you up and down and all around
your dreams nor dare, will not be found,
The Champion must adore the trauma of training,
remembers the humility of a Beginer's trouncing,
must pray with innocent instinct, thank Providence with confident conviction,
makin bravery out of bruises and being headstrong amidst hecklers,
invents technique like a Freeborn freak,
they shame the opposition into reverence with indisputable excellence,
true Champions are unforgettable, architects of shock and hope irrevocable,
indestructable like a titanium pyramid,
To be a Champion is to have a demolishing drive,
they must excel when underestimated
and must dominate when expected to succeed,
the Champion's Faith devours fear and punishes pretenders,
to finish the foe with decisive declaration, " Check Mate! "
a Champion always defies, and never dies,
there is no calculation of defeat for an Angel following a Divine beat -
J.A.B.
quick figurative brush stroke drawn out character sketch
(serendipitous verisimilitude)
i stand in awe
(with mouth agape) at elegiac, fantastic,
and graphic idyllic Kinkade magic
leaving breathlessness from craw
at such artistic talent oozing
spellbindingly, whatever
aforementioned noteworthy craftsman
doth paint or draw,
and chanced to comment
about sad affairs leaving flaw
in regard to questionable business ethics -
where press hee haw
contradicting, maligning, undermining, and jaw
boning sans said late talented mortal
engaging in sketchy traits of south paw
city when contrasted with a dog given gift -
ooh...such rah...rah...rah
when he first appeared on the scene,
where most viewers saw
utmost dynamic, fantastic, and harmonic convergence
displaying such prosaic, rhapsodic,
titanic art show events
hum...and perhaps not surprising
his illicit in dull gents presents stark contrast,
staring hypnotized as imagination invents
experiencing peaceful, restful
and tumblerful joie de vivre espying
honorable mentioned nonpareil oeuvre
that placidly rents
craving to disappear into bucolic landscape whence,
splashed upon canvass,
attempting to bat
presumed "FAKE" rumors aside as nonsense - fat
chance prevailed constituting:
deceitful, immoral, unfaithful sly kat
nocturnal antics, despite scathing attacks
(cut him down to size), niggardly praises spat
out for me, I maintain cult of personality (his)
setting Mac Book Pro wallpaper
with exemplary landscape, either authentic or copy cat.
Painter paints with a brush and hooded mind.
Dentist extracts, injects with a pointed mind.
Mind of cacophony is what a singer has.
Orator hails, evading a faux pas.
Chef cooks with an aproned mind.
Scientist invents, minded with formulas.
Cartoonist strokes, gifted with artistry
Dubber voices over to cover up travesty.
A wrestler can break anybody with a ranting mind.
Audience can just watch and listen with a calming mind.
If a dancer prances with a swirling mind
then a choreographer can relax to unwind.
So many other occupations with distinct minds,
Instructive of vocations and interests
descriptive of master minds.
What is your job?
Cryptic contours charade,
Rousing riverfront raid;
Young yonder years yielding,
Prosperous peace prancing;
Taunting tale telling trite,
Icon imprints invite,
Clever casting charm cites...
Minds merge mingling motives,
Embalm emergent edge;
Rising riches restive,
Lofty lion-maned ledge;
Instruct inbound inklings,
Outline obvious oozing,
Niche nice new nurturing...
Fancy fish-tail flings flair,
Age aligns apt affairs;
Sense survival seeking,
Hope's hasty hurts hurling;
Intent invents impasse,
Observe optimum ooze;
Now nimble nascent noose,
Salty sea spray surpass...
Sculpt seaward sea-bubble:
Taut tensile tendency,
Obscure odd odyssey,
Raise roomy revelry;
Years yield yarns you yodel...
See sensuous story stay,
Charm cleverly cheers clay;
Raise rousing ripe refrains,
Indulge instincts ingrained;
Prime plot puzzling playground,
Trailblazer touching town...
Move myopic mindset,
Yesterday yielding yet;
Tease trouble's trying threats,
Hoist happy hustling hat...
Leon Enriquez
01 November 2014
Singapore