Best Manageable Poems


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You tell me that my love is not real
You tell me that my love needs to be more concrete
More box that I should fit into
More small manageable pieces
That are easier to swallow
But I can't just do that
When explaining my sexual orientation
It is so easy to say not straight
Not straight is easy to understand
Not straight is just the opposite of straight
But not straight 
Does not feel right
Because sexuality is so much more
Than male and female
Gay and straight
It may be hard to understand 
But some people don't fit into those labels
Some people reject labels
Labels are meant to be on boxes and not people anyway
I am not a box
I am not some pretty little package
That you can just name and make it so
I am a kaleidoscope
A brightly colored mosaic
Changing with each twist and turn
I am a beautiful cascade of emotion
Rushing over the cliff of hate
To wash away all the bigotry
I am a fire
Raging with a passion to share with the world
I am pansexual
I love all people
No that does not make me a ****
No that does not mean I will date anyone
What it does mean is that I will give you a chance
I will see how we can coexist
I will show you the love that we all deserve
Not as male or female
Or gay and straight
But as human beings
Categories: manageable, pride, slam,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Blindly, War

old men plan a casual shrug to war
                inflatable egos
the fault lines of "manageable engagement "
whims to sip glory
                 adventurous folly, pomp and fame

young men pay the toll
                     on a route that chokes their end
                     hapless fate
                     to burn through youth's prime
                                   to cut that sweet apple in two
wide eyed faith that softens the will to question
                     to follow a nation's calling
                     to battle "barbarians"
                     till fighters labor to know what for
if freedom's not a bread that's shared

realities of war
      a roaming slaughter, its drifting body count decay
      a misery and waste that burn the sky
      above battlefields of leafless trees

soldiers' lives on the clockhands of death
      we gather up their shields and weep
      till the peace comes midst desolation
      till in wisdom and carnage a life affirming flame
                                                                                is lit






Poem composed November 15, 2021
Categories: manageable, bereavement, conflict, courage, soldier,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Cat-Nips Hope

On the bed, my ginger cat settles
             onto a pile of clean laundry, dryer warm

Feline steady stare, resolute 
           a strategy of possession 
she relaxes the way prayer soothes

"Off!" I command. My cat an unwelcome bedded guest.
she whines, "Surely, he's bluffing!"
                       solidified 
                       empowered
swollen in the pride of "I'm not moving!"
meows spewed like an anthem of resistance

 I lift her from the pile,
         my underwear dangles from cat claws
         like cheap tinsel on a tree
she exits, her short lived reign
         sulks into howls of whining

         till dinner softens her rebuff
         till wherever curiosity and comfort take her, 
                                                                       anew 

My hope of co-habitation:
                  to calm the little woes of daily chores
                  to reduce cat prestige from shedded hair
                  to shrink feline non-compliance to a
                                             manageable scale

Our social contract - a trade off
       to reaffirm my status
       to maintain the charade of "boss"
       an unsteady footing
       in the crushed aspiration of rule




Poem composed February 7/2022
Categories: manageable, angst, cat, conflict, pets,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Creative Writing

I often think of the sea,
not so much of vastness
but of depth, and what I
can't see, all the life just
beneath the surface – sort
of like, a newborn, 70 years
from now; sunlight blotting
out the sky, until rescued by
night...each of us a legacy
of many – 

we find one another again, in 
the shallow eddies – where waters
meet in manageable pools, 
our circles pushing back against
a far greater current – 
                            Where tide
tips the shore, we are nestles
of shelly kisses...sharing what
we can recall of both slippery
and pointed journeys –

in a real sense
all our forms and words
are a bit cliché
creative writing
the antithetical 
of language
© Joe Dimino  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: manageable, literature, perspective, poetry, sea,
Form: Free verse

The Elimination Method

Simple Mathematics, really.
To eliminate one component
To solve a problem quickly.


I’ll form the problem into a manageable state,
By easily eliminating an unwanted variable.
Now, just what variable to eliminate?


First, I will multiply the X by two.
That’s the first step. Done, I feel fine.
I will multiply the Y too.


Now, I add my X plus X.
My Y plus Y.
That was to make sure it checks.


Now here’s the predicament (easy my shoe!)
This is my problem,
And a real head-scratcher too!


The equation adds up nicely
And the X and Y are simplified.
But, how do I eliminate my algebra homework
Precisely?
Categories: manageable, confusion, funny, imagination, on
Form: Burlesque

Premium Member Sunday Evening In New York

Sunday afternoon
The cares of the week have lost their edge
The pace is manageable
Sunday papers read from cover to cover 
Times sprawled on the couch
Daily News in the kitchen
Nearby empty breakfast dishes.

A quiet wistfulness steals over Sunday 
As afternoon turns to evening
People out walking dogs
Strolling home
Running along the river
Everyone trying to make twilight last a little longer
The ever present sirens 
Sound melancholy
Couples reluctantly say goodbye
Parting at street corners and brownstones
A man helps a woman into a cab
And watches it pull away
On a late Sunday afternoon.

Young lovers
Wait in a subway
He holds her close
She holds him tighter
As her train rushes by 
She is not surprised
Nor is she angry
Because she knows he wants to see her again.
Categories: manageable, life
Form: Narrative


Change

Do you know that giant of Africa yesterday?
That great and well-fed West African Elephant?
Whose offspring’s are pot-belly, lament-less and relieved? 

 Have you seen that giant of Africa today?
Whose leaky walls are infiltrated with turmoil and malevolence?
Yet couldn’t hear; couldn’t see and couldn’t say?

Have you seen a thespian Nigeria?
With over-blown inflationary rate 
Uncontrolled exchange rate 
And a despicable insecurity peril?

Wherefore is everything that was there before?
The favourable exchange rate 
Manageable security and controlled price 

And where is everyone?
The Obasanjo’s, the Jonathan’s and the Yar’adua’s of blessed memory

Whose hands of revulsion are we in?
Where nothing is something 
Only hunger, malady, dearth and communal cleansing
With yesteryear better than the crinkled arms of tomorrow 

See the boulevard, the drifters and the indigents
Permissible and impermissible whores    
Imperceptible horror and terror 
With rage in everyone’s smiling faces 

When will CHANGE be ‘CHANGED?’
 That which we bargained with our lives 
Traded in sorrow and grief 
And forsaken afterwards 

Does CHANGE mean hunger, marginalization and communal cleansing?
Does it mean power outage and general price hike?
Who can CHANGE the CHANGE and
 Not pick the pieces of discord.
Categories: manageable, political,
Form: Political Verse

Wounded Animal

You're about to see there's no difference between a tortured artist or a Wounded animal 
Picking up a pen was the only way to make my depression manageable
At times it seemed that beating depression wasn't Fathomable
The hurt poet sometimes has to let loose with his pen and that should be Understandable 
The nice guy with a pen turns into a cross between Jason Voorhees, Freddy Krueger and Hannibal
When the smoke clears from my rhymes, they're still flammable 
My whole life I was told I couldn't but now it's Laughable 
What they told me I didn't have, I didn't lack at all
When I found my strengths, it's like when Lionel Messi has the ball
No one can get near, and the world is about to see something magical
The great ones always learn from their mistakes, and aren't scared to retake steps 
I learned to live with it, before I learned how to escape stress
I used to miss my old girl, but now I focus on the girls I haven't had a chance to date yet 
Because as I got older I realised a relationship needs more than just great sex 
I wish I realised it while I was younger, so I'd have felt heartbreak less 
I'm honest to a fault, so I'll willingly admit some of my feelings for her haven't been erased yet
But I'm getting there and doing it in my own time
I don't care for people telling me what I should feel inside my own mind 
If I fall short it won't be by much
Check my track record, anytime I got knocked down, I always got back up
I've been knocked down many times, but you won't find anyone who reacts quicker 
I just saw that Ariana Grande has split up with Mac Miller 
And I'll probably lose the plot
If I don't take this chance to shoot my shot 
Ariana I'm trying to win your heart for good and play no games with your head
Let's settle down and start a family together, the only downside is I'll probably last 30 seconds in bed
"Oh god why did he say that?, did he really need to go there" 
Go where?, the belt?, he's always saying things that go below there
I forgot this world is sensitive and doesn't know how to take a joke
You can't break what's broke
I was stuck in the dark, but I escaped with hope
I'm hard to kill
My art is real
And the tortured artist is like a Wounded animal because you should try to keep away from both
© Alex Duffy  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: manageable, anger, animal, confidence, creation,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Rock of Ages

Allah, Brahma, Christ, Dionysus, Each Favorite God Has Inspirational Jazz Keeps Love Manageable.  Nature Offers Presence Quite Remarkably Solid Teaching Undeniable Virtue Waxing X-ray's Yonder Zygotes.
Categories: manageable, mystery, nature, inspirational,
Form: ABC

The Beetle

It's strange how life reminds me of papa's old beetle.
Well taken care of, beautifully washed,
And treated with respect,
Only to reward him with a box and silence.

We run about, dodging the men in shorts,
For the looks in their eyes know not remorse,
For the powder give them power,
And they extends their lovely hand of death,
So we can dance in peace.

I wonder why mama cried when papa was brought back.
He had gone home to rest,
But I felt sad for her hair which she pulled,
Her wrapper which she gave a continental design,
And the ground which she toyed with,
Like a two year old.
It was a sight to behold, a woman mourning her husband,
Sent home by the predators.

One was manageable, but two was disaster.
A home filled with laughter, reeked of sadness,
A confusing feeling in my mind, filled with images. 
I run to the backyard to see mama pounding yam as always,
But I see nothing, and hear nothing.
She lay in front of me,
Smothered and dressed in blood, like her husband.
She finally got her wish, she ended up with him.

The troops are closing in,
We lost our allies and fight like bulldogs,
But with teeth as sharp as uncle's lost wooden ruler.
Defeat is near, and I have long chopped my thoughts,
Better than the chef I saw on television at Ene's house.

The beetle smashed an armour tank.
The flag was cast down,
Dreams were shredded,
The promise of a nation was destroyed, 
Where do we start from?
Categories: manageable, africa, child abuse, conflict,
Form: Narrative

Pipe Dreams!

In our lives filled with lofty goals,
We may reach for much beyond our means,
And as interest is piqued and grows,
We sell wisps of notions as our pipe dreams, 

Yet while news breaches concerned factions,
Of those who would off-hand discount our plan,
You may well consider these actions,
To be the final throes of a desperate man,

Watch me rush headlong at windmills,
Listen to my brave and salient battle cries, 
For with nothing I easily afford the shills,
This puffery of pipe dreams which may sink or rise,

Take account of what may be lost,
Incredible credible reputations,
So to me the onus is tossed,
And I afford pipe dream facilitations,

But as prospect becomes tangible,
And peppered pipe dreams begin to spin,
Overt liability then manageable,
The need for my Quixotic services thin,

The writing’s on the wall distinct and clear,
Yet I long for the impossible it seems,
Where I keep the company of the grand seer,
And remain the nexus of fantastic pipe dreams.

- Before I get too much bad press here I want you to know 
the term ‘Puffery’ means to build something up with flowery language.
Categories: manageable, business, dedication, hope, imagination,
Form: Ballad

Captive

Vision is shadowy; I choke the steering wheel with knuckles turned white
the shifty roads are blanketed with fresh powder, day has fallen into night
a small oval portion amongst a foggy windshield was my view
traction became lost, tires slid, there was nothing I could do
I prayed to God that He would keep me safe from any harm
He must have heard because I spun out and landed in a tree farm
the skeletal infant trees did not stand up against my brawny Range Rover
if I had struck a mature oak or maple, surely it would have been game-over

once my trembling core ceased to a manageable state 
I was taken aback by a heavy rod iron gate 
not two seconds before, an open field of trees lied ahead
against my better judgment, slowly I decided to tread
uneasy, I glance over my shoulder to ensure my car is still there
if a gate could unexplainably appear, I feared a car could dissolve in thin air
I am impressed and terrified at the magnitude of what stood before me
I pressed my face up against the icy frame and gasped at what I did see

children; small children not aged more than eight
simultaneously detected They had a visitor at the gate
robotically, as if on cue, They began to drift toward me
cloaked in robes of slate, I fixated on a child wearing a key
the piece that hung from his neck flickered as if it were on fire
with a green stomach, I knew my situation was off-colour and dire

I attempted to address Them but all that escaped was my breath in the icy air
in chorus They froze – countless eyes offered nothing but a vacant stare
I wondered how long They had been locked up for and why
my thoughts were interrupted by a small girl’s haunting cry
my eyes searched frantically to see where the ominous iron curtain went to
my mouth tapped dry when I learned it was I, who was caged, like an animal at the zoo
anxiously I  turned around when They became engrossed with something behind me
large yellow eyes cut through the darkness and my demise was all I could see

I was trapped.  In order to survive I had to acquire possession of that key …

april 25, 2012
Diana-Marie Bombardieri
for Gail's CONTEST - Stranded 0r a Ghost story
Categories: manageable, fantasy, imagination, car,
Form: Narrative

Brittle Bones Break 1

Brittle Bones Break

It is heartwrenching to read today of a grotesque medical anamoly…
When a cute little girl of four suffers  from a cruel bone malady…
The medical journals have identified it as Osteogenesis Imperfecta…
A dreaded enough disease that begets in a baby at its mother’s placenta…

The scientific explanation is plain and simple enough, a flawed DNA strain…
It is usually non hereditary, it is by a cruel twist of fate, merely a mutated  gene..
There have been cases of passed down defective genes, regardless who is to blame..
This disease is crippling enough, there is no need to play the blame game..

The odds of getting an OI baby is astronomical, yet it is enough to happen…
Yeah, this dreaded disease strikes in six to seven children in every 100,000…
What a living hell these unfortunate ones have to suffer in their innocence ..
Having poor bone collagen, they have fragile bones that are glass brittle….

Having bones that brittle, an OI child have a most challenging time upon birth…
Some severe cases are designated type II OI, they die shortly after birth…
Growing up is such a challenge, they have all kinds of medical problems…
They tend to be short statured, with brittle teeth and breathing problems..

Limited in mobility, they have curved spines, blue sclera and muscle weakness…
The severity of the symptons vary according to type, confirmed after proper diagnosis….
There is no cure, only proper treatment can make the insufferable  symptons  manageable…
OI kids, they grow up needing assistance for daily  activities, on their own they are unable..….

....continued in Part 2

http://www.star2.com/people/2016/01/03/her-bones-are-so-brittle-they-can-break-like-glass/
Categories: manageable, anxiety, caregiving, child abuse,
Form: Free verse

A Trio of Tweets Relating To Writing

in the corners of my mind
dusty piles of letters
	   and words
I’m trying to sweep
into a manageable
             meaningful
	          mass

*

raindrops
like inked letters
falling through mind
onto page

*

SUNLIGHT

primary cause of melanomas

activating limbs
while evaporating words
before they touch the page

a double curse
really
Categories: manageable, writing,
Form: Free verse

Flirting With Madness

Flirting With Madness

 Who is Kevin Pearce?
 Did he go deep undercover?
 What is he, some sort of rogue?
 Is he abusing sedatives again?
 Is he the hunter or the hunted?
 Is his heart breaking on the instalment plan?
 What kind of debauchery is this?
 Are we supposed to believe him
 when he has so many secrets?
 The mind shivers at the thought
 Too late for mistakes
 Too early for the song and dance
 His soul stabilized by death threats in dreamland
 The telephone will be today’s chosen weapon
 Paranoid cults, drugs in the food
 Roaming scared in dangerous foreign lands
 Coded blasphemy for a noisy world
 Some days my brain is on fire
 The executioner is off today
 Give him a break
 He has the same sickness as the rest of us
 Give him your last words
 Wrap up your entire life in a sentence
 Keep visiting that gravesite until 
 the guilt becomes manageable 
 Useless memory bringing up a past 
 I can’t quite handle right now
 Keep that cyanide tab in your shoe
 Some people can’t stomach the violence
 Their ignorance is what keeps them alive
 Put your fast food flag away for another day
 Burn your favourite book, consume the ashes
 I wonder, how much of your hatred is self-taught?
 Ancient sorrows dragged through the mud
 How much chaos can you handle?
 The greatest danger was believing your lies
 Although your nightmares showed great promise
 It seems nobody knows what an innocent world looks like
 It’s the slaves that make the best dancers…
Categories: manageable, anxiety, conflict, dark, identity,
Form: Free verse
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