Best Lying(A) Poems


Premium Member The Rich Soil Which Yields My Food

The Rich Soil Which Yields My Food

Making a living from the earth is tough hard work and it is often done in extreme conditions. The shimmering rays passing through the open bedroom window awakens me with the warmth of the sun on my face. Lying a little longer enjoying the comfort of my bed, looking out the window before my day begins, enjoying the view of the blue sky while the clouds slowly move forming shapes.  The light creeps through the leaves like water in a running stream through rocks.  Listen to the gentle rustle movements of the leaves enjoying the cool morning breeze and the singing of the nesting birds in the trees in soothing harmony. My dog runs and jumps on my bed with some snuggles  and a slight whimper to get me to rise to another long, tedious, exhausting, hard working day that’s ahead of me.

work morning till night
hustle behind a tractor
numbing exhausting

A farm takes pride in and being passionate about growing crops. It takes a special person to be a farmer.

farmers taking pride 
rich crop triumph of hard work 
always gives back more




© Eve Roper  7/28/2015
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.

Fraud, Friends and Fear

First day on the job, co-worker confides
            “Bullies here get rough. 
            When they call your bluff
     you can count on me to stand by your side.”         
            Conversation thrives;
            Contemplation drives
my curiosity to hear out Ben’s mind.
Many issues find our positions aligned.

                      Can I depend on Ben?


     Long story he told, how his parents died.
            The story towered, 
            pity he devoured.
     Neighbors had raised him, neglect bona fide.
             Imagination
             defied foundation.
One colleague verified, “Ben invents the truth;
He lives with his parents still, well past his youth. “

                      Can I depend on Ben?         


Last week, he boasted he’d gotten a raise; 
            deceit’s his onus.
            “Twas just a bonus,
     which we all got in a matter of days.
            As auditor-clerk
            he does top-notch work;
his skill in mathematics amazes me.
Yet how (and why) can he lie so blatantly?

                      Can I depend on Ben?


     I will admit unfair apprehension
            which causes me grief.
            Could he be a thief?
     Don’t want to be a source of contention.
             Is lying a crime?
             Truth will out in time.
I'm considering his vested point of view; 
but cannot count any guarantee as true.
We talk, then I walk away from this yahoo.

                      Can I depend on Ben?
                
              Fraud makes a fearful friend.


written May 17, 2018
contest:  Gregory Barden's Qarinage, Any Topic (new form)

Why

Why do I feel abandoned, Oh Lord
Why is it that I cry in my sleep
Why doesn’t my life move forward, Oh Lord
Why is it that I only have sad memories to keep

Why do my eyes only see darkness, Oh Lord
Why is my heart bruised and soul bloodied
Why does the world turn away at my sight, Oh Lord
Why behind this hard exterior is lying a whimpering child

Why won’t a mother sing a lullaby to me, Oh Lord
Why is there only the stench of powder in my world
Why would you keep me alive, Oh Lord
Why can’t you lay me to rest inside an endless void.


Premium Member Christmas -- As We See It

CHRISTMAS – AS WE SEE IT


A sparkling white crest of new fallen snow
A bakery window laden with freshly baked pastries
Children – sledding down a hillside or skating on a frozen pond
Sleigh bells ringing on a horses harness as the sleigh swishes by
Cardinals, waxwings, and sparrows lingering on the bird feeder
                                         for one last seed
Shoppers, braving the cold and hurrying from one store to the next
                                         searching for that “perfect” gift
Postal workers delivering mounds of Christmas cards to countless friends and relatives
Traffic at a standstill, waiting for the light to change
Street lamps blazing with twinkling lights and banners proclaiming MERRY CHRISTMAS 
 Church marquees advertising their upcoming Christmas  Cantata
Soup kitchens serving a multitude of needy and homeless people
Bell ringers from the Salvation Army as they solicit donations
People being nice to one another for at least this season
This, and much more is Christmas – as we see it
But what of the real reason for Christmas
A baby lying a manger awaiting the time when He will declare His Kingship
Shepherds, as they hurry to Bethlehem to “see this thing that has come to pass,
                             which the Lord has made known to us”
Mary, Joseph, and the Baby Jesus surrounded by animals –
                                            animals which are also a part of Christmas
Behold, the Star of Bethlehem shining bright as it did thousands of years ago
Yes, we see Christmas in various ways, but let us not miss Christ –
                                     the real reason for Christmas
Let us embrace Him – not just as a Baby born of a virgin
But as Lord and  Savior of our life – King of Kings and Lord of Lords



	Curtis Moorman
	9 December 2010

Premium Member What We Deserve

What We Deserve!

Mother's milk, a sucking child,
Full of bull, and running wild,

And elected by us (just for fun),
Though we’re monkeys that screech in a tree,
You are high if you think you are free!
Evolution, God’s plan come undone!

Tiny hands that cling to breast,
Chosen one (thinks sucking's best),

"Get your own, I'll not share, who's a fool?
If I say it, boohoo means it’s true,
Do you think fool that I care for you?
Soon I'll defecate too in your pool!"

‘Nepotism! ‘Out for lunch,’
Incest favors all my bunch,

'Here's my daughter, my sons; they're mob made!'
I'm their pimp; they're both meat and my spice!
'Money talks!' is my only advice,
'Cool-aid (1) I mixed and poured in the shade.'"

"Politics is up for sale,
Education to assail!

'Road to hell' now is claimed by the 'Right.'
'Fake news' helps me manipulate mob,
Hide my wealth, pay no tax is my job,
I bring gold, not ‘sick logic’ to fight!"

"Who do you think’s born to win?
I’m a master, fount of spin!

If I lie, it's not lying, a joke!
'Fifth Amendment' sure bet that I'll take
Or the truth chokes and dies on my snake;
I can pardon myself with one stroke."


Long Tooth
June 30, 2018

Poet’s Notes:
(1) A reference to the ‘Cool-Aid’ drunk by Jim Jones and his follower 
which he poisoned so that his followers would all die with him.

Premium Member Torquoise Talk

I could tell a tale until I am blue 
In the face.  I prefer torquoise 
And good grace.  I could speak of tender
Kisses   in this space but kisses have 
Become to tender with your tender lips

And sweet cherry sips.
If only I could talk up a tender thought
For a  salacious  kiss.
How could i bemoan a torquoise stone I
Have never  owned.  

Maybe I will recite  a stanza about 
Blue rose  petals  but its been over done
Although the beauty  of the blue rose
Hardly seems to fade, every  day and day
It  last always.

I could mention my adoration for  the 
Sapphire  gem in the whole of this poem
But the torquoise stone is my  blue love.
I should say now how a shamed  faced  lover
Was caught in the act then lying a tall tale

So high it scrapped the sky.
And spliced thrice inviting excitement.
I shouldn't  say any of these things.
I am a flaming DANGER  to star struck
Lovers  with IN EVERY FOREVER  seeking

Pleasure.  This hunger with exact measurements
Holding contempt for common sense.  I wince
In anticipation anxious and guessing at what  comes
Next. 
Penning the BETTER than BEST of  the TONGUE KISS
of a lover's  chain reaction satisfying satisfaction.

Throw caution to the wind if  I DARE YOU.  Hush
Someone might hear you, but of course  we are miles
Away from civilization.
We are alone with the night, two lovers with an
Animal  APPETITE.

The night  with the stench of unfamiliarness  
And the taste of  cherry sips on those  lips
Good night my star struck lovers.
THE NIGHT SPOKE IN FLIGHT.


Flames

there they came without a minutes waste
and climbed up the ladder into the devils fate.
they sprinted fast here and there trying to save a soul from the death bed,
i saw him climb up into the window a feeling of anxiety on his face.
a small childs cry amongst the flames black clouds everywhere.
without wasting a second even to think he goes away, 
he hears a faint cry again and again.
splints falling on his head plasters from the wall here and there.
the crackling of the flames the devils cry obstacles everywhere.
her cries grew faint fainter with time he lost hope but still held on,
time was less a second is precious he calls for her but to na avail.
he opens a door with all his might and met a sight which forced him to carry on.
there she was lying a little girl of 10 in an unconscious state her body bent, her face 
was pale milky white he could hear his own heart beating with plight.
he took her down an angel she was.
he took her to safety with a risk on his hand but he didn't care as he thought he saved 
another one
with happiness on his face and a glow of a true hero he went to meet her the life he 
saved,
but there she was lying covered with a shroud.
tears running down his face that is the life of a fireman bearing all the consequences 
between life and death
© Salva Kazi  Create an image from this poem.

Twice Blessed

Twice  blessed

Once upon a moonlit night,
I kissed a girl and it was right,
With my lady there was no fright,
Cos it was Allison.

Chris said she will be moving in,
I said I’d ride her, joking  grin .
Prediction true,where I have been,
Some things with me abiding.

Cuddle time, then on one night,
Between her thighs ,
Oh sweet delight,
Loving sighs,
It was right,
Inviting.


Fessing up to Christine,
She thought it was fun,
Suggested tween  she n she,
I’d be the one,
Exciting.

Lying a thorn between two roses ,
Holding feeling, holy Moses,
All my Christmases had come,
Hours later comatose,
Shaking, shivering  comes n goes,
Me little race was run.

Don Johnson 6-jul-11

A non chemical high point.

Premium Member Better to Know, or Not to Know?

'Tis it better to know, or not to know?
Now there's the rub! 
The dilemma in a Pandora paradox.
Sure it's nice to get to know yourself, but not entirely,
for the abyss within the cage will return the gaze.
Better, perhaps to not know that the killer asteroid
arrives tomorrow at half past ten.
Nor what's in all the horror-scopes you yen,
in learning what Science 
tells us about the Universe, now and then.

These telescopes peer deeper and deeper
into the abyss telling us that:
The universe began a trillion trillion years ago.
There are a trillion trillion stars out there.
The more you look, the more you see back in time.
Ah Hah! There's a new Earth waiting for us out there, 
lying a trillion trillion miles away.
It will take us a trillion trillion years to get there.
Are we better off knowing or not knowing all of this?
Is Ignorance Indeed - Bliss?

Oh my, what we missed when stopped
looking into the sky with ancient eyes!
Behold the swirl of 'Starry Starry Night'. 
Bickering Gods, with unblinking eyes staring down on human folly.
Portals to ancestors and spirits resplendent in heaven.
The wonders, calendars, navigation guides and signs above.
The body of the goddess Nut, in the arch of the Milky Way,
cradling dead Pharaohs ascended as new stars.
A hunter draws his bow.
A bull charges. 
An emu struts and prances beside a billabong.
Perseus lifts the serpent’s head.

It was all such a living lively show
in the wondrous sky above.
It should never have become 
a map of pin-pricks for nitwit twits 
blinking into oblivion
in endless useless overreach.
Why? It's beyond me.

Premium Member April Is a Slip and Slide Month

my yard is a slushy swamp
black umbrella has blown away
third one I’ve lost in a week- all black and bleak
my traitorous sandals slip in the mud
freshly spread grass seed has been washed away
it will have to be replanted after monsoon season
nothing is perky or fresh yet
April is a muddy mess

confident daffodils lead the way to the season
with their cheery yellow and white faces
nothing else is alive or exuberant yet
verdant grasses are two weeks out at least
a baby robin has fallen to its death
careful nest is lying a few inches away
mud makes an appropriate grave
April is a slip and slide event

Darkest day

A Story of Santosh that was entangled in grief
It was just another day, he thought 
He stepped out of the house with his family to return
Unaware of the danger awaiting at the accident spot
He and his wife, children went out jolly, talking about 
They got onto the bike and went for a ride as usual
Oh, Santosh, if at all you knew
Your day ends in a dreadful growl
You are broken and bleeding, growling on the side of the road
Wounded, wondered who would save his loving family lying a distance away
His wife watches from afar helplessly, two kids and her husband mourning uncontrolled
Oh, that dreadful day, will they ever forget the misery life has thrown
The death of his only budding toddler, struggling to breathe and left the world reeling 
If at all, he knows the danger ahead. 
His family would be living safely and securely
Santosh had to pass this day and face the pain as long as he is alive
God allowed this, and they have to let go; their sorrows and pain
Which seems to be healed but remains fresh in life, displeased  
Life gives joy and sorrows; smile in your good days and cry when no one sees

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