Best Ledger Poems
You've portrayed the lives of many
A soldier, a son, a dad, and the enemy
Who I ask, shall portray your life
In a story to reveal your demise
The Big Screen carries your legacy
Your family keeps quite a memory
Her Daddy she can always see
By watching his movies on T.V.
Such a talent you beheld
Quite a story to be a tale
"Why so serious?" as Joker will say
One of the favorite roles you play
Far to young, to go away
May you rest in peace where you lay
A knight in shining armour you'll be
When again your face, your family will see.
for Chriss Matt's contest: Gone too soon***
hope you enjoy...LOVE Miranda Lambert, A.K.A *Randa*
Categories:
ledger, death, dedicationfamily, family,
Form:
Free verse
As end of year is drawing near
I pause to view my balance sheet;
my assets squared to debts compared
reveal my worth...my year complete.
The gains I made and debts I paid
while navigating through these times
with friends I’ll share as I prepare
to close the books ‘fore midnight chimes.
And so with pen I thus begin
my final entries to compose
so balance sheet will be complete
as ledger of my life I close.
December 28, 2019
Categories:
ledger, age, death, life,
Form:
Rhyme
Hereto while my soul lies dying,
throttled by the winds of change,
hobbled by the wrath of ages,
nothing but a gasp remains.
There abides a wisp of pity
tempered with a shred of grace,
an iota of compassion
on this saint/sinner's face.
I'm not meant to meet my maker
till I've done what I must do
to set the ledger to His liking,
strike a chord 'twixt me and you.
then will I be granted access,
pity, grace, compassion mixed,
I won't need exoneration,
all my feats and foibles fixed.
Categories:
ledger, write,
Form:
Quatrain
9-24-15
Drop off written document box—
Cliff…
Cavernous crevice—
The gap…
|Space| between the lines—
Infinitude…
Continue to-do—
Proposed madness…
Accusation—
Abuser…
Formatted contextual suicide—
Any last words?
Nuff said;
Feller-poor—
Naughty-nuff-ever-
Poor-feller-for…;
Naughty-Nuff-
Ever-poor—
Clever-poor-feller-forever-more—
Gallery-glamorous-galore-
Poor nuff-not-ever-more—
Furthermore related by propositional disclaim—
Plea bargaining forever-more…
Embodied image interrogated—
Seemingly poor-
Naughty-Nuff wants more-for-less-more-for
Nuff-said-feller-poor—
Ever-if-fortune-wins-glamorous-galore—
Poor-feller-remains-for-ever-more…
Wonder why?
Why wonder-for?
For why-for-wonder-more?
More-or-less-for-ever-wonder—
What wonder-for?
For why wonder-for—
Why am I writing—why-wonder-more?
More for why wonder-what-for—
A LEDGER. . .
No less or no more—
Categories:
ledger, art, imagination, mystery, raven,
Form:
Blank verse
I was born with a number of handicaps:
My mother’s myopia, and Dad’s hairline,
Mom’s high blood pressure,
My father’s sleep apnea,
And a human being’s mortality.
Surgery has improved my sight.
One pill each day keeps my blood pressure down.
A CPAP machine cured my snoring.
I’ll just live with the baldness,
But nothing cures the mortality.
So I will try to get more exercise,
And watch my diet better.
I will reduce my stress level,
And take more walks in the sun.
I will love my wife and the times we share.
I will be more attentive to others’ needs
And seek to help whenever I can.
It won’t cure the mortality,
But it can’t hurt!
Categories:
ledger, death, wisdom,
Form:
Blank verse
Hereto, while my soul lies dying,
throttled by the winds of change,
hobbled by the wrath of time
'til nothing but a gasp remains.
There abides a trace of mischief
tempered with a shred of grace,
an iota of confusion
on this saint/sinner's face.
I'm not meant to meet my Maker
'til I've done what I must do
to set the ledger to His liking,
strike a chord 'twixt me and you.
I will need exoneration,
all my mischief set to rest,
then will I be granted access,
take my place among the blessed.
Categories:
ledger, spiritual,
Form:
Quatrain
Hereto, as my soul lies dying,
throttled by the winds of change,
hobbled by the wrath of time
'til nothing but a gasp remains.
There abides a wisp of evil
tempered with a shred of grace,
an iota of confusion
on this saint/sinner's face.
I'm not meant to meet my Maker
'til I've done what I must do
to set the ledger to Your liking,
strike a chord 'twixt me and You.
then will I be granted access,
evil, grace, confusion mixed,
I will need exoneration,
all my faults and foibles fixed.
Categories:
ledger, religion,
Form:
Quatrain
Hereto while my soul lies dying,
throttled by the winds of change,
hobbled by the wrath of ages,
nothing but a gasp remains.
There abides a wisp of pity
tempered with a shred of grace,
an iota of compassion
on this saint/sinner's face.
I'm not meant to meet my maker
till I've done what I must do
to set the ledger to His liking,
strike a chord 'twixt me and you.
then will I be granted access,
pity, grace, compassion mixed,
I won't need exoneration,
all my feats and foibles fixed.
Categories:
ledger, philosophy,
Form:
Quatrain
9-24-15
Drop off written document box—
Cliff…
Cavernous crevice—
The gap…
|Space| between the lines—
Infinitude…
Continue to-do—
Proposed madness…
Accusation—
Abuser…
Formatted contextual suicide—
Any last words?
Nuff said;
Feller-poor—
Naughty-nuff-ever-
Poor-feller-for…;
Naughty-Nuff-
Ever-poor—
Clever-poor-feller-forever-more—
Gallery-glamorous-galore-
Poor nuff-not-ever-more—
Furthermore related by propositional disclaim—
Plea bargaining forever-more…
Embodied image interrogated—
Seemingly poor-
Naughty-Nuff wants more-for-less-more-for
Nuff-said-feller-poor—
Ever-if-fortune-wins-glamorous-galore—
Poor-feller-remains-for-ever-more…
Wonder why?
Why wonder-for?
For why-for-wonder-more?
More-or-less-for-ever-wonder—
What wonder-for?
For why wonder-for—
Why am I writing—why-wonder-more?
More for why wonder-what-for—
A LEDGER. . .
No less or no more—
Categories:
ledger, adventure, crazy, creation, imagination,
Form:
Blank verse
Heath Andrew Ledger
was a talented actor.
he had the x factor,
we’ll miss this cinema treasure
Heath Ledger was a good actor. He passed away at a
young age. He left behind an accomplished by of work.
*Find out more about him on Wikipedia.
Alexis Y.
11/17/2020
Categories:
ledger, tribute,
Form:
Clerihew
Hereto while my soul lies dying,
throttled by the winds of change,
hobbled by the wrath of ages,
nothing but a gasp remains.
There abides a wisp of pity
tempered with a shred of grace,
an iota of compassion
on this saint/sinner's face.
I'm not meant to meet my maker
till I've done what I must do
to set the ledger to His liking,
strike a chord 'twixt me and you.
then will I be granted access,
pity, grace, compassion mixed,
I won't need exoneration,
all my feats and foibles fixed.
Categories:
ledger, inspirational,
Form:
Quatrain
Hereto while my soul lies dying,
throttled by the winds of change,
hobbled by the wrath of ages,
nothing but a gasp remains.
There abides a wisp of pity
tempered with a shred of grace,
an iota of compassion
on this saint/sinner's face.
I'm not meant to meet my maker
till I've done what I must do
to set the ledger to His liking,
strike a chord 'twixt me and you.
then will I be granted access,
pity, grace, compassion mixed,
I won't need exoneration,
all my feats and foibles fixed.
Categories:
ledger, spiritual,
Form:
Quatrain
There it was
What a surprise
The thing the heart
Had been searching, pulling,
Rummaging, toward...not knowing
PROOF
The proof of living
Written for all to see
There it was, in INK
BLACK, THICK INK
TRUTH had not stolen, taken, possessed
MONEY
Looking on through
The ledger accounted
For every penny spent
Not one dime toward the desire
Of the ONE yielding self for
FRUIT
LOVE keeps no account
The document is drawn up
In the substance of TRUTH's fear
Wrongly accused, blamed, sentenced
For treason toward the rejected
JUDGED
UNWORTHY TO BREATHE
.....well, that's getting shredded
Written by Trudy Schrader on 12-21-2023
Categories:
ledger, desire, power,
Form:
Free verse
In smoky halls where echoes groan,
they carved the truths in tempered stone,
yet none recall the scribe who wrote—
a chap in boots and mismatched coat.
His quill was plucked from harpy's wing,
he’d hum while making corpses sing,
and in his book, no saints nor rules—
just jesters crowned as sacred fools.
He’d scrawl: “The Pharaohs danced in socks,”
“Atlantis sank for TikTok shocks,”
“The gods play poker, bluffing fate,”
and “Death’s quite fond of jam on plate.”
No funeral dirge, no sacred chant—
just tales of one ghostly aunt
who haunts her pub near Camden Town,
and downs her Guinness upside down.
In Chapter Twelve, he penned with flair:
“The soul’s a squirrel. It climbs. Beware
of preachers selling spirit glue,
and wizards who misplace their shoe.”
The elders scoffed, the prophets wept,
the choirboys fainted as they slept.
But underground, the rebels laughed
and toasted with their witchy draught.
He wrote of love, of wars, of tea,
of how the stars play hide and seek,
of time—“a dodgy landlord bloke
who always vanishes mid-smoke.”
The Book of Souls, they locked away,
filed under “Myths” in disarray.
But now and then, it starts to speak
when full moons twitch and reason leaks.
It sings not hymns, but punk and blues,
of afterlives in dancing shoes—
a book that breathes, that mocks control,
and dares to ask: Who owns the soul?
So if you find it, dog-eared, worn,
by alley bins or fields of corn,
read loud, and let your spirit troll—
for madmen may just save the soul.
Categories:
ledger, music, mythology,
Form:
Narrative
eventually, you have to give back
for something that you took
when you're totaling up the ledger
numbers in your account book
the columns are too long
no mathematical symmetry
debits outweighing credits
if you took more than you need
I'm not saying
I didn't see you flinch
I'm not saying
you weren't there in a pinch
I'm not saying
you didn't budge an inch
all I'm saying
is it shouldn't end like this
Categories:
ledger, introspection
Form:
Verse