Best Mark My Words Poems
Some things I think are overhead
Are also underneath my bed
And this is true of you, as well.
So mark my words now, as I tell:
Beneath the clothing bins we store,
Under the stairs and basement floor,
Beneath the tracks of snails and slugs,
The homes of chipmunks, moles, and bugs,
Beneath the cracks where waters run
Through garnet and magnesium,
Below the mantle—an iron core,
More mantle, crust, then ocean floor,
With thermal vents, volcanic glint,
Turtles, whales, and tiny shrimp,
Beneath the driving winds and rain,
We find the stratosphere again.
And deeper still, the moon’s bright face,
Then stars and wonders strewn through
space.
So maybe now my claim is clear;
We rest upon a little sphere, and
“Up” and “Down” make sense alone
To Beings who are stuck at home.
I believe in HIM!
I believe in HIM,
Not because he saved my life so
many times,
Not because he fixed my hand from
an accident,
Not because he is the Son of Man,
Not because he died for my sins,
Because He is the CHRIST,
Because He came for the weak,poor
and Gentiles like me,
Because He sits on the right side of
GOD,
And because He choose me to follow
him till my very last breath...
He is Jesus
And I believe in miracles,
From Him ,when you call from your
soulSpirit,
He shows compassion and always
says,
"FAITH can move mountains,
Have faith beyond doubts,
And the rest my friends,
Mark my words for I am his living
example..,
Will perform his Miracles,
When you ask HIM with FAITH
And watch the wonders unfold
before your own eyes..
GOD bless everyone,
Has never let me down,
Just call HIM 24/7 ,
Remember with your SoulSpirit,
Because that is the highway to his
Mobile...
Every minute,every hour,every day,
24 hours,12 months,365 days,
Until your lifetime ...
Are you listening...?
================================
Drake Eszes
Know Your Place contest
Normally, I'd not "Dare" choose just one poet
to honor. This time I have, hoping I don't blow it.
I've chosen to break my "Silence" in "Gratitude"
for "Captain Tom," a man who has a great attitude.
He posts "Footle x 20" and genius "Covid Limericks."
Ribald anecdotes that make us smile, just for kicks.
I pay "A Tribute" to his cleverness and amusing wit.
He could stand at "Hells Gates" with "True Grit."
We've all enjoyed his "Lockdown Humour" on site.
He's not afraid of "Confrontation," and will fight
with "A Rattling Rhyme" written with "Sharp Sword."
Tom's historical epic writes never leave me bored.
He shines like "Northern Lights" in "The Night Sky."
Believes in God, if you read his Etheree, "The Magi."
Tom Cunningham offers "Wise Words to Ponder"
from many years of traveling, hither and yonder.
He's usually the first to announce poem of the day.
Poetry Soup is like "The Zoo" with lots of wordplay.
It's been a "Ghost Town" when "True Angels" left
leaving Tom feeling very sad and terribly bereft.
He wrote "If I Ruled The World" I'd have a goal...
There'd be no bullies or "Gremlins in My Soup Bowl!"
Then post "A Few Limericks to Lighten Your Mood."
Mark my words; Captain Tom can be mighty shrewd.
At "Daybreak" he might be hard to find, out of reach.
Likely, he's taking "An Early Morning Walk on the Beach."
A little "Red Wine" and he gets into "Mischief," and yet,
I doubt Tom often walked on "The Highway of Regret."
He's a man of morals, so "Don't Criticize" my choice.
"In Times Like These" I appreciate his fine poetic voice.
Tom is a loyal friend; who genuinely seems to care.
On "Life's Journey," he's not ready for "The Rocking Chair."
June 3, 2021
Title Wave Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Rick Lamoureux
In tribute to Tom Cunningham ~ gentleman and poet
Questions are proliferating,
people search for answers
in old pants pockets
in long discarded purses.
The scampering feet of baby philosophers
can be heard from the moon.
The media is stymied, they are manipulating,
confiscating and hiding behind the backs
of massively overgrown ballers,
willy-nilly they scribble an alternative reality
upon indoor swimming pools.
The manic mayhem of our daily grind
is wearing our hair thin,
Somebody should take control of the truth,
but it keeps dodging questions
and slamming doors behind it.
Mark my words with invisible ink,
scratch a cat behind its ears,
somersault all you like
but we are all getting overrun
by imperfect pontifications
by the indecent Doctors of spin.
and all this endless self-questioning
keeps replying over and over again
but only in unbreakable code.
I'll tell you 'bout my Uncle.
His name was, Uncle Fred.
When he spoke, I always listened,
to every word he said!
He was my father's brother.
They were very close, I'm told.
My Dad was killed in action,
when I was five years old!
He became my, father-figure,
when Daddy passed away.
He could not have done a better job,
I feel, obliged to say!
He shared his skills and know-how,
the most important things he knew.
He inspired me by saying,
this is what "I expect of you."
"Strive for honesty and truth, my boy,
take your time and have some fun,
savor every passing day,
make sure you walk, don't run!"
"Carefully, control your aspirations,
you'll know when things are right.
Have no regrets and don't look back,
but, keep your goals in sight!"
"It's important, that you know yourself,
your feelings and your views,
your beliefs and your convictions,
are the things that make you, you!"
"Value all your treasures,
your family, friends, and such!
If you don't, then mark my words, son,
your life, will not, amount to much!"
I have eternal gratitude,
to my Idol, Uncle Fred!
I've been able to succeed in life,
by heeding, what he said!
Uncle Fred is gone now!
He went to be with Dad.
But, he's in my heart forever,
the Best Friend, I ever had!
Message in a bottle
Here is my greetings and message to you all, my dear ones
Who would be populating this earth again
After my generation gets wiped out on the 21st of December 2012*
But, then, what a let down, I have to fall back upon
This antiquated paper and pen and a blasted bottle to store it in
Because there is no way I could text or e mail to you,
Like I am used to, this day, that let us soar so high with computers,
Nuclear bombs and spacecrafts that whizz past celestial bodies
As if it is child’s play;
but all the same dragged us down to moral depths
Where one of us could massacre a whole class of kindergarten kids
Or plot mindless terror attacks in the name of imagined wrongs
And wrong premises or rape and then kill a five year old
Or an unsuspecting girl who walked into a wrong bus
Thank God I am still left with a little sense to share with you my friends
Whatever freedom you may happen to enjoy,
Whatever material progress you may make
Never use it or let it be used to trample on moral and ethical values
Guard and enforce those values in society with eternal vigil
For there will be none to protect and promote them,
Mark my words, except YOURSELVES, because such values
Have no commercial value.
For, politicians, preachers, prophets
And their followers, by the very nature of their preoccupations,
Would continue to divide and disrupt, despite their bluff and bluster
About universal love, brotherhood and peace, the very values
That would be suffering atrophy under their very noses.
* The Mayan calender ends on this date (21st Dec 12)giving rise to speculations by doomsday prophets that the world too is going to end on this date.
20th Dec 12
For Catie's Message in a bottle contest
Grandma would rock in her chair,
as she shelled green beans,
telling me stories of old,
that kept my attention.
As I helped her with this
chore, I was amazed with
this wonderful sweet lady
and the wisdom she had.
She never attended a day
of school, but yet she had
all the answers.
Every time I talked with her,
she would build me up,
telling me "Jimmy Foulk,
you will be somebody someday,
mark my words."
I could never get down while
with her, she just kept building
me up and encouraging me.
She was my best friend as well
as my Grandma, she died in
1969 and I dearly miss her.
written 4-17-11
the Running Chestnut down in the mine where is the dark sarcasm asking myself a rhetorical question how did it come to be facing one another looking up the point like lighting it struck me funny for the ironlike window let all the light flow in fading into darkness yet the question remains mark my words well raising the pitch musically I go to find the answer turning it upside down in my opening remarks circling in my mind could make some stomachs semi-upset but learning from a good question is the point like pluck the chicken before you make the soup
Rules, rules and rules everywhere!
Difficult to abide by them, I swear!
But friends, I’ll tell you some facts,
Which will create on you, great impacts!
Traffic rules you must follow,
Mark my words which aren’t hollow.
Follow the signal and keep to the left,
Use the indicators and drive with deft.
Wear the helmet or tie the seat belt,
To remind you of these, is the need I felt.
Never talk while you drive,
To control speed, you must strive.
Make it safe by following the rules,
Everyone is secure and no one pules.
Abide by them, do not shun,
Enjoy every ride with a lot of fun.
His gift of eloquent banter and jest
got him blessed with a seat wearing a crest
of many colours on his pompous vest,
swelling his breast; our terror of unrest.
He's the rage of everyone's attention
pictorial song and dance admission.
Funny some statements never seem mention
imperfection bringing less attention.
His gift of eloquent banter splitting
the grand stage trying to build a fitting
world of elaborate change unwitting,
out with the old, in with the new knitting.
Storms approaching with rage wanting to wage,
his statement "I will build a greater stage,
nobody builds them better than a mage.
Mark my words, it will or will disengage.
His gift of eloquent banter and love
have fallen out of trust worth thinking of;
country watch intently from up above,
in balconies chances for former Gov.
So, you heard it all before falling in
and out of trust; will he forfeit or win.
1-30-2018
Poetry Contest: Eloquent banter; You tease me so nicely -
Sponsored by: Edward McCall
Dear Prader Willi Syndrome.
You took my baby and have held it hostage and I'm very angry at you. From birth you've held me hostage as well.
Everyday I see you looming over my family and I hate you.
You have my son in your ugly claws.. but I will not give him to you. You hear me I WILL NOT let him be taken. I will fight you on every front I know ..so watch out. You do not own him, I do. I am the one that loves him most. I will be there for all the good and the bad and I will love him to no end. My beautiful happy little man is a joy to love.. but it's so very hard day by day. I wake up making my plans and I'm very sure I fall asleep to them as well. These plans are to give my son direction, love, and hope. So you may control him, but guess what?? You don't control me. I will fight and be knocked down but mark my words I WILL GET UP. My son has a mama bear in his corner and I will show my teeth and swipe my claws at you. I will curse you to no end on those long helpless days that promises never to end, all the backwards steps he takes I take with him. I will rejoice in the days that bring joy at making his goals and smile knowing I helped him there. So yes, I will never stop hating you. I will learn to work around you. I will never fear you as I fear my son's future, but not you, Prader-Willi, not you. You see my son is strong and beautiful and loving all that I hoped my children will be and I love him to the moon and back. So, take that Prader-Willi.
IF EVER I HAD A COUNTRY - LXXVII
IF ever I had a country proud of its wall-less porous boundary
And if ever by no mistake of the Supreme High Command of the International Militaro-Business Conspiracy I were appointed the CHIEF TARIFF IMPOSER and Eminence Grise of and on all the self-righteous realms rocambolesque republics and renegade run-of-the-mill rotten rotting rostrum-raving riven ribald rascally rickety refugee-raised democracies
Mark my words I’ll put an end to the raping of my dearly-beloved national integrity by
One, importing all available rutting Queen Bees of the "Killer African Bees" and have them breed with local wasps of high pedigree in the front-line of battle along the Southern Border under every tree where I’d let Red Ant-Hills multiply free
Two, import Myanmar Pythons with a taste for digesting young fresh human flesh, mixed with the local brand of Everglades alligators, down the Mississippi and the Colorado River sprinkled liberally with the Grand Canyon brand of the Rattle-Snake with their tell-tale warning-rattle nipped off, together with the silent army of Black Widows clad in their enticing mantilla webs, as a second-line of defense against the illegal refugee
Next, if they still keep coming I’d roundup all the lazy good-for-nothing thick-maned Bisons of the prairies and have them lined up for a Charge-of-the- Heavy-Brigade stampede by whipping their asses to the sound of the Land of the Free
And if this doesn’t stem the tide of illegal immigrants, drug dealers and tourists with empty pockets, I’d call on the faithful Black and White striped Tribe of Appalachian SKUNKS with my tonitruant bugle, line them up so that their posteriors faced Tierra del Fuego and let them squirt to their hind-hearts’ desire even at the risk of driving the entire population out of the country
Yes Siree, this’s what I’d do as the Eminence Grise and Chief Imposer of Tariffs of My Beloved Contree
And this even if I never ever had no country worth saving for the ennui of a penny
(c) T. Wignesan - Paris, June 11, 2019
how can you be furthered with my understanding, without reading the words that i say,
remembrance and knowledge are a given to you every time you read and pray,
i mark my words down in your heart, they pertain to what you do,
the pain is erased with every trial you face, or every struggle you go through,
it will keep you steady and solid, balanced in love and standing,
my love will give u soundness of mind, with me there's no misunderstanding.
Confessions of a Swirly Straw
The Swirly Straw said to the Clear Cola
“I don’t mean to pry
but I’m tired of getting double teamed
Like some harlot in a trashy movie
If I wanted so many ménage a trios’
I would have wished to be a **** star
Or possibly a prostitute
And even if I were born Jenna Jameson, Francesca Le, or Kobe Tai
I would have chosen a different occupation
Yes, it’s true I was Cleopatra in a past life
And perhaps I was the infamous Jezebel also
And perhaps I enjoy the physical act of sex
A little too much
But there is something very unsettling
about my top being tongued and sucked on
while a river of sticky sweet liquid
Is shot up my bottom
twisting and turning
through my body like a shivering ******
And besides your effervescing bubbles
are tickling me in all the wrong spots
So the next time
this anonymous person puts his lips to me
make yourself scarce and get out of my way
or mark my words
you’ll pay
energy has a funny way
of coming back to you
and reimbursing the guilty
for all the things they do.”
Confessions of Clear Cola
The Clear Cola said to the Swirly Straw
“My love I know you don’t recognize me
We sometimes don’t identify everything we see
But we keep on meeting again and again
Why just last year, I was the ink and you the pen
I flow through your veins like a fish in the sea
Do you remember my love? It is I Antony
In each life we meet, and I swim inside you
Sometimes I am blood, once I was the drink Yoo-hoo
And another thing
I’m pretty sure of is
That anonymous person putting his lips to you
is Caesar from Rome
In most lifetimes he comes to devour me
Like a rabid dog with his mouth filled with foam
He is my nemesis,
My demise,
The reason I die
But one of these lives
He is going to get, an Eye for an Eye
I’ve waited thousands of years,
And if I have to,
I’ll wait more
For just one chance
To settle the score
Et tu Caesar?
Well I can’t rightly say
But I promise you Caesar
You’ll rue the day.”
By: Joseph DeMarco
I will destroy you
I will torture you in anyway I can
I will find a way to defile you
I will break you for what you did to me
I will turn you old and gray from emotional stress everyday
I will never let you rest
I will drive a wedge between your illegitimate marriage
I will take from you what you denied me
And all of this because you believed every lie that was told to you about me
You Harlot…
I will destroy your life in the same way your sister destroyed ours
By making you remember
I know you search to see what I have written. You should be happy you’ve inspired me to
relive all my pain
You took every ounce of love that I had for you and through it all away
You denied me a happiness that could have healed me and spawned much delight
Instead you are left with being attacked by a memory created by your sister’s lustful nights.
Mark my words you will suffer my pain
Nothing you can say.. No words of compassion will ever stop me from haunting your life
Remember this my sweet little saint one day your so called husband will see a ghost
And on that day he will come home refrained, he will come home one quarter less a man
than the half that he is today.
Be very afraid……