Best Lisping Poems
"While many are silenced by authority, some are voiceless as they have no courage to protest. But some prefer voicelessness for convenience sake which is a graver offence" ~ By Poet
In a world of much noise and cacophony
Some are fated to remain voiceless,
Due to reasons forced or voluntary.
Raising no protest, they yield to their fate
Watch the meek docile lambs that move,
Behind the shepherd to be huddled inside
Food and shelter are all they need,
And they abide to be shorn with no dissent.
Silent are the beasts that trot along,
Miles on end through rugged tracks.
Blissfully ignorant of what awaits,
They stagger lamely to the slaughterhouse.
Mournful is the voicelessness of the slaves,
Flogged and beaten to bear the yoke,
Stifled is the cry within their throats,
Never once let out to break the calm
Heart rending is the voicelessness of the dumb,
Trying in vain to utter fleeting thoughts,
Through signs and gestures crude to view,
Lisping and blabbering in broken sounds.
Fierce is the silence that lingers on,
The ones subdued under stark threat of life,
Gagged and tied unable to moan or move,
While looted of all that is hoarded in life.
Silence turns golden for the sober man,
Who remains sedate when taunted or abused
And shuts his mouth with great restraint,
To prevent a brawl from brewing up
Voiceless lies the dead beneath the sod,
Actors who once rocked the stage,
They exited out from this turbulent world,
To be shrouded within crevices dark.
Some sez m a loss caz, I contain ta many flaz
Just becaz m not subjec to ya lawz.
Lizen t ma speech, m hear ta preach
Ma wordz, well byond ya reach
Wot ya hearan iz more than a screech
U tink ya to impotant ta learn wat I teach
Wizdom byond the gatz o ya mind
I iz preachn to da dumb n blind
Pearlz to swine, insted on slop ya dined
I keep movin foward ya left bahind
U trip ova words in purfect oda
Mine aint purfect I liv beyond ya borda
Not subject ta ya stupid odaz
I dance along ma own coridorz
So step back, dis iz ma time
I blast ya wit ma ryme
I aint lispin m doin dubba time
Drink ma down m smoooth like wine
Ya take ya shot, ya tink ya cool
Betta not ta speak, n reveal yar fool
Ya wrdz in a puddle a stagnate pool
Comn off ya face a string a drool
M gone in a flash ya cuud not seize
I mo powerful then a breeze
Leaven ya ta do az ya pleaze
Ya coudnt seize da forest through da treeze
Verlena's Ebonics Contest.
For my friend Freddie
Some say I'm a lost cause, I contain to many flaws
Just because I'm not suject to your laws
Listen to my speach, I am here to preach
My words are well beyond your reach
What you are hearing is more than a screech
You think you're too important to learn what I teach
Wisdom beyond the gates of your mind
I am preaching to the dumb and blind
Pearls to swine, instead on slop you dined
I keep moving forward you're left behind
You trip over words in perfect order
mine aren't perfect, I live beyond your borders
Not subject to your stupid orders
I dance along my own corridors
So step back, this is my time
I blast you with my rhyme
I'm not lisping I'm doing double time
Drink me down I'm smooth like wine
You take your shot, you think your cool
Better not to speak and reveal you're a fool
Your words in a puddle a stagnant pool
Coming off of your face in a string of drool
I'm gone in a flash you could not seize
I am more powerful than a breeze
Leaving you to do as you please
You couldn't see the forest through the trees
Standing listening, listening, a brush of air passes by
The whaling, whaling, sound of the voice of the earth
Lisping, lisping, the words of the old and new
Hailing, hailing, you to stop and look and smell the air
The sigh, sigh, of hope that always given in time
Hush, hush, the noise has quieted down to a stop
The brushing, brushing, grass that is laid down by wind
Lashing, lashing, with quickness that cannot be seen
The high, high, notes that can be aching and soon heard
Snapping, snapping, ripping the air apart with its song
The loop, loop, which thrashes the leaves around
Standing, standing, letting the sounds brush around
The opening, opening, of lips pushing the air out
Whistling, whistling, that of which life has not gone out
As I laze on my lounger
on a warm June day,
I hear
a choir of bees bumbling,
wind lisping through leaves,
doves cuddling, courting,
the chink of cups
tea pouring,
birdsong circling,
the cat purring
and I close my eyes
daydreaming
as
I wish
I was the yellow rose
wrapped around the bower
surrounded by budding friendships
so sweetly scented.
I wish
I was the purple clematis
dawdling on the trellis
sipping on sweet raindrops
cupped deep in her bosom.
I wish
I was the pink snapdragon
Peeping through the lavender
bees buzzing her,
gossiping all day long.
I wish
I was a raspberry
snoozing in the bushes,
plump ruby lips
ripe with juicy kisses.
I wish
I was the red maple
long glossy hair
tossed curls tumbling free
flowing with the breeze.
How nice to wake up
to my darling asking
“do I wish
to have a cup of tea.”?
I reply,
I wish.....
MMC © 2011
SPEECH IMPEDIMENT JOB-SEEKER
An aged respondent called Smith
Answered the newspaper job-list herewith
“Man wanted as geologist
Great skill at digging out schist
And now and again a large batholith.”
But this geologic skill was a myth.
Because like rock-hound kin and kith
They just wanted a man,
Not the lisping old gran
That they thaw when she gave them a kith.
How I look forward to October the thirty-first each year!
Though the autumn be chilly and the weather a bit drear,
I have the pleasure of meeting strange little imps by the score,
As they visit, lisping "twick or tweat" at my front door!
The door bell rings constantly it seems as I leap to me feet,
Wondering about the wierd characters that I shall meet!
Will it be a devil or an angel or a frightful ghost?
Whoever it might be, I must be a generous host!
Hordes of fairies, cowboys and Indians grace my stoop,
Along with sheriffs, desperados and soldiers by the troop!
Ferocious pirates, scary skeletons and dreadful witches,
Leer and grin at me, nearly scaring me out of my britches!
Standing regally is a king and queen, each wearing a crown,
Along with their court jester, a gaudily bedecked clown!
There's a sweet little princess decked out in ribbons and lace,
Smiling demurely with cute dimples on her pretty face!
A little secret with which those little monsters I'll never share,
But I'll clue you in on my own little Halloween trick if I dare -
I dole out bubblegum, candy corn and stuff I don't care for much,
But keep the Snickers bars, Babe Ruths, Hershey Kisses and such!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Patradoot or the Messenger 35/Many……….
English version by Ravindra K Kapoor
Originally written in Hindi by my
Late father Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor
The moment she would notice during her plays,
She would shout ‘ltter’ ‘ltter’* in her broken voice,
Showing the expressions of amazing happiness, dear letter,
Because you would be arriving, from her father’s place, dear.
Her innocence would come out from her expressions,
And from the melody of her broken words, dear,
When, she in her lisping sweet and broken voice,
Would express her affection for her father, dear letter.
While adoring and loving you in her sweet little mind,
She would take you towards east, dear letter,
To tell her mother that you have come, she would,
Convey that in her broken sweet words to her mother.
Filled with the happiness given by the girl child,
In the garden, you keep moving towards the door,
Till you reach and see my beloved sitting there,
Singing a lullaby for her darling child, dear letter.
Keeping her eyes on the front door with hopes,
She was praying for me from police atrocities,
With wishes and hopes in her mind, dear letter,
She would be waiting with love in her eyes for me.
Ravindra
Kanpur India Sept 2010 continues in 35.
*Ltter. Letter.
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Patradoot in Hindi was originally written by my late father
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor around 1932, who was a freedom fighter.
He wrote Patradoot in Hindi, when he was kept in Faizabad Jail for quite
a long time. The Epic was written as a gift for my mother and it was
sent to her secretly from Faizabad Jail. He was imprisoned
by the British, as he was fighting for India's freedom
under the leadership of Mahatma Gandhi. He was imprisoned
many times during 1920 to 1947. After India’s
independence as a true follower of Gandhi Dr. Amar Nath
Kapoor left active politics and devoted rest of his life in
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas,
Poetry books, epics. All his other literary
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990.
He left this mortal world in 1994.
.
Our thoughts
tumbled
while we kissed
lisping
"i love you"
Sylvester the Cat,
the lisping schemer, would get smashed flat
by Granny swinging her broom in a rage
when he tried to lunch on her bird in a cage.
Tweety Bird,
clever canary, spoke when danger occurred.
Inside his cage the wee, wary one sat
and said, “I tawt I taw a puddy tat!”
September 2, 2021
entered in the Cleritoons contest
Sponsor: Joseph May
Scrolls raked along
the crevices;
limits of a breath
patched, thick.
Chiseled down the
rumbling bark,
brimming loops,
cross road nooks of
trembling passion,
scorching rues.
A crumpled hearth
of perpetual dormancy.
Raw upon the
lisping drones of the
bamboo,
broader than the
clearest black,
an influx- grim, vivid;
cryptic on
morsels of my
slumber, dampened
ears...
Flashes of detached
voices, intuitions;
monotonous as this
tread-
a lurch; different
yet whole.
Conflict
The priest ran
Scared to raise
An ignorant army
On a darkling plain
Loading guns
With dummy
Faith. The froth
Rose arrogantly
In the test
Tube. They heard
Eyes shut and saw
Ears plugged,
Contorted faces
Expecting the explosion
Any moment.
Slowly
Very slowly the froth
Spilled over
Leaving behind—would
The “faithful”believe?—a near
Essence of religion.
I Meet A King
He stood in the middle of the lane,
A toddler in tatters,
Confronting my speeding scooter.
I cursed the nowhere –in-sight,careless mother,
Then shifting gear,
Threatened a mock dash,
Was to him but a big plaything
Come for his pleasure.
The sudden smile over his face
Lit up my heart.
I withdrew a little,
Bowed to his imperial innocence
And humbly went my way.
The Sea Of Truth,Land Of Desire
Daunted by its drowning depths
I sought assurance of the rocks
But the sea – it called me ceaselessly.
Frightened by its flood and froth
I clambered inland hurriedly
But the sea – it called me ceaselessly.
Nerves racked by its wheeling surge
Tried land’s many pleasure groves
But the sea – it called me ceaselessly,
Looking for my roots in glades
Soon was lost among the trees
And the sea – it called me ceaselessly.
On the beach I sat once off my guard
When the sea crept near me silently
And the sea – it licked me lovingly.
That moment joy and fear were one
My visions did a somersault
And the sea – it soaked me ceaselessly.
Sea’s mercy makes the inland rich
Sea’s magic makes the sunset glow
And the sea – it gives us ceaselessly.
O thou formless yet unfailing sea
My very own though boundless sea
In turmoil O thou tranquil sea !
I have learnt the timings of the tide
And make obeisance to the waves
For the sea now thrills me ceaselessly.
How l would to love to leave the shore
And whale-like wallow in the sea
For the sea – it thrills me ceaselessly.
But awed by its mysterious depths
I still sometimes walk the earth
But the sea –it loves me ceaselessly.
Child How Innocent!Lord’s Delight
Crawling,toddling,frolicking sight,
Playing,lisping,smiling bright,
,Eating,drinking,gaining height
Alive all day,dead at night,
Present gaiety future might,
Nothing bothered wrong or right.
Child! How innocent,Lord’s delight,
Gift from Heaven trailing light.
---------------*-----------*-------- *----------* ---------
‘ Intelligence-Impediment ’
There Was A-Lisping Professor, Named Panamo’
Who gave his Students, an Assignment on Plato’
… But he was quite perplexed in Mind
… When They, came with clay-figures of some Kind
Not Realizing, They All Thought, He’d Said, ‘Play Doh’ ...
. Age
I part my days:
One half for daughters not able yet
To count by hand
Or walk with open heart,
And a half for the man huddling upon the age
As heavy as the war
Or, like a palm with no breath of odour.
What left I turn to birds
Replete with white…
Fleeting sea gulls,
Butterflies lisping with magic,
Signs of Surprise,
Tales about elves,
And the carol
Living deep in the dream
Narrated by the grandma
As she was warning me
To run away
So that the core of the sea would cool off.
But, I forget her warning,
Wandering far out in my head,
But .. the clock calls to my dreams
So I come back…
To part my days:
One half for daughters not able yet
To jump as high as the wash rope
Burdened with woolen clothes,
And half
For the man sitting in silence
Away…
Sipping the nectar of the present
And cursing upon the future sorrow.
Woman of Fertile Earth, come sing to me
let these hands, feet explore your hidden wonder
to submerge into dewy grounds rippling life's music,
of infant buds lisping tenderly among field's roots
as nature grants lush springtime its tuneful arrival.
Rooting For 8 To 5 !: nette onclaud's Contest
4th January 2017
.
When I was little
I’d look down
and i'd
see hern tiny
her auburn flowing tresses
the pixy’s eyne beaming staring up
her trembling
lips lisping longing
for mine kiss
When I was little
I’d feel hern pixy cute
when 'gainst mine chest
hern nymph’s
warm
When I was little
I looked down into hern tiny
and promised her
my love