Best Marring Poems
She fell from the light, into a world shadowed in gray.
~ by poet
An angel pouted to protest her punitive plight
No repentant redemption for her serious sins
Wings waylaid, the fatuous one was felled in flight
And from Heaven hurled; now banishment begins
Resentfully she roams in shadows of somber skies
An enraged expression marring her fractious face
A ranting rebel like the dastardly devil, father of lies
Dwelling in darkness due to her decadent disgrace
No earthly escape will she discover through death
Crows circle and caw, crying out in a clamoring voice
With crass words she crudely curses in banal breath
Wicked wrongdoer, condemned for her corrupt choice
With foolish folly she sorrowfully surrendered her soul
and delves within deep darkened depths for eternity
All alone, there will be no one to comfort and console
From shadows and suffering, she will never break free
She sulks upon sullen stygian shores of the river Styx
without a reprieve or relief from tormenting terror
There's no exit from her eternal eviction as time ticks
for Satan's spawn, shrouded in shame for her error
August 30, 2022
Alliteration Old or New Contest
Sponsored by Joseph May
I’ve covered the mirrors in our house
With colored sheets, while choking on grief
Black, blue, and green, to my bewildered spouse
Who has wondered what has become of me
And why suddenly I’ve begun mourning
He thinks that I’m a reflection of him
So he doesn’t notice the wounds within
The marring of my spirit’s complexion
Permanent, from his reoccurring sins
That have shaped me into his perfection
My face is clear so you would never guess
That person staring back isn’t me
Mirrors can’t show underlying distress
Only the lie he wants others to see
Not the despair slowly growing, steeping
Don’t look bewildered at my draping sheets
If you look, the nude is there, underneath
Reflecting the lie that it has become
Prolonged exposure to fisting complete
Now mourning the death of someone it loved
5/8-5/9/12
For "Your Birthday Suit" Contest
How many are the years our world has been
an entity? And for how many more
has there been sky, the earth’s celestial skin,
which must have somewhat changed from years before?
In purer times, man may have seen it loom
with diamond clarity of layered blues.
Though like today, it also grayed with gloom,
it must have dazzled dusks in splendid hues.
And even now, despite new damage done
to its most fragile part, how it can shine
with utter brilliance, changing with the sun
while we below keep marring sky’s design!
Perhaps a Holocaust will bleed it red.
Though changed, it will remain when all are dead.
God made human beings into man and woman
And adorned them - gems into a gorgeous garden;
Never coloring them into white, black, or brown
His image, he poured into them, in-mold golden...
Humans created all casts, colors, creeds, and sects,
Filled the earth with injurious impurities;
Each looking another as suspicious objects,
Thus marring the beauty of God's priorities...
Realizing - sin against each one - ugliest
Human beings need to remove the filth in them;
Outlooks on persons and events must be honest,
Each human as precious as the Kohinoor gem...
When the law and the legal system is racist,
Who would citizens ever approach for justice?
Having not condemned the legal system fascist,
Could the system not ever care for the rustics?
People who oppressed are uniquely qualified,
Speak on behalf of other oppressed of the group;
Victims of racism and cruelties that abide,
Need exclusive interference of legal troupe...
And thus, may inequalities be wiped away,
May everywhere human cause and humanism thrive!
Everything that hinders human growth may give way,
To love, fraternity, and liberty to live...
11 July 2021
Critical Race Theory Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anthony Biaanco
Entertainment tonight;
It's alright;
Entertainment tonight;
Out of sight;
Woo oh oh, we're here to entertain you;
We've got entertainment media news;
Music, and fashions dresses pants and shoes;
We got the scoop on the latest Hollywood news;
We're here to entertain you;
Entertainment tonight;
it's alright;
Entertainment tonight;
Out of sight;
woo oh oh, we're here to entertain you;
We've got Isaac Hayes, even Bernadette Peters hey, hey, hey;
We'll comment on Big Albert, and even Willie Mayes;
Got the gossip and views on whose marring who. . .
Woo oh oh, we're here to entertain you;
Entertainment tonight, it's alright;
entertainment tonight, out of sight;
woo oh oh, we're here to entertain you;
Words sung or vocalized to the music, original theme music from the 1981 era
06/09/85
Lyrics written by James Edward Lee Sr. ©1985, 2018
Composed music by Michael Mark
Chastity is the jewel of a girl and character ,the ornament of a woman
Exalted are the women of such ornamentation
Like a diamond , like a precious stone
Not to expose , A girl of such Tone(Type)
Like a motherland , like a home
The dignity of a girl Mariyume(Virgin Mary)….
Clubs are not the places of the Holy Frau
The trade of a girl is not worthy of a nation
Not are the sons the whore-monger of daughters!
Like a shield in the battlefield, are the sons of the nation
Character of a girl , the character of a nation
Future builder are the daughters of the nation
Spoiling a girl , is spoiling a nation
Making not marring is the Job of the belle(Beautiful) creation
Purity ,Modesty is marking up(marking up is increase value) a girl
Making her the Mother Mary of the nation
Chastity is the jewel of a girl and; Character,the ornament of a woman
Exalted are the women of such Ornamentation
The incessant rhythm of your work
Ever pounding on the insides of my skull
You needed to write it down
And I hated it
I remember I had my bad habits as well
Filling myself with the same billows that dashed our dreams of Paris
My scarlet remnants marring the white, rolled paper
In the same fashion my kisses trailed your frame
Here I sit, missing you
Short one golden family heirloom
I turn its twin over in my hands
Feeling the full breadth of my sorrows
I kept the ticket you bought me
Undisturbed, it sits in my drawer
Undisturbed I sit in this room
I’m not sure where you sit
All I know is it’s not with me
Stand I here upon the Precipice of Time
between madness and derangement-
In a grief so profound
ambiance of rage,
with darkening clouds abound
marring my every breath
Declaration to your joy unsound.
Yet- from this stance
I envision you, my perfect
seraphim of light-
aching for you
Ceaselessly grasping for that which
I have no chance.
Grasping – bent in half
weeping-
My corrupt nature defies
All I hold sacred and true-
You need know
My soul rages in disparity-
Immortally, hourly, minutely, secondly…
ETERNALLY-
I cry.
The Dragon’s shadow awaits me.
Shapes, wraithlike and laughing-
clawing… dragging…shadows
eerily baffling.
Veiled obscurity- most refuse to see
This sickening reality
Tis only righteous- to set you free…
Paled I am by another’s word-
his creed, I allowed this blasphemy
Unable, enable, culpable-
Guilty, frailty, unreality, liable.
Covet, yearn, anticipation- keen ambition
overshadows any austere regulation-
We two do stand upon this Precipice of time
My love stands as most depraved of crimes-
Stolen and deceived- Options extinct
Surrender is an unnatural ailment for me.
- dedicated to my Seraphim
Imagine that we are out boating on
A lovely Sunday afternoon that floats
Our imaginations like wind swept clouds,
Rippling from horizon to horizon.
You are pillowed in the bow of our canoe,
A thin foam pad lifts you off wood ribbed bottom.
No smooth fiberglass for us, a bright
Umbrella protects you from the sun,
And a wine-rich picnic basket awaits us
As underwater green leaves dampen our motion
In the shallow but glass-smooth mountain lake,
That bends high breaking waves, ridges of buoyant rock
Like a telescope lens, magnifying, doubling our joy.
Craters marring our surface are more visible too,
So close are we now that your flaws seem
Almost touchable in the fragrant breeze
As breathing its emotionally charged air
We clumsily explore the terraformed landscape,
Together, alone, here, Adam and Eve on Mars.
Brian Johnston
October 1, 2015
My first car was a Maverick ... like me !
With a fresh paint job, beautiful to see.
I passed my driver's test,
So full of youthful zest,
Then backed into a pole I didn't see.
~~~~~ ~~~~~
see "about this poem" for photo
* true story: one hour after passing my driver's test I jumped into
the car and bumped into a pole backing out of my parking space, marring
the brand new paint job.
for Carol Brown's "My First Car" contest
Francine Roberts 06/03/2012
I’ll wait for you. I’ll wait until the day I know there is no chance. Until those words come out of your mouth, I’ll be holding on. Hoping, wishing, waiting. You are my true love, so I will never let you go. No man will ever have my heart like you do. I’ll wait for you until you look me in the eyes, and tell me that you’ve let go. It’s never gonna happen. I’ll wait for you until you say she’s the one. You’re marring her, not me. I will crumble to pieces, but I’ll still be there. Hoping, wishing, waiting. I’ll wait for you until I see her walk down the aisle and you say the words “I do”. My world will shatter. Never to be put back together. But if you’re happy, that will keep my shattered pieces in one pile. I’ll wait for you until my hair is gray, and my skin is creased with old age. Reminiscing on the days when you were in my arms. Hoping, wishing, waiting. I’ll wait for you until my body is no longer of this world. Only ash and dust. My soul searching for you in my next life. Hoping, wishing, waiting.
Raging, fierce winds of Mars
marched across Earth’s skyscape,
in the season of the decline of Man
Fall of the God-chosen specie,
autumn of impending extinction
Twas an apocalyptic mushroom noon
when the radioactive rains descended
upon the cities of carnage
War-torn topography uterine shelters were closing,
as phallic missiles were radar target trace fire opening
Bomb pockmarks
marring the beautiful faces
of the cosmopolitan ladies
Uranium continental premature blood splatter
brings a copious end
to the foreplay disaster chatter
Civilization shamefully undressing
their disfigured body of technology
in the warped climax throes of gamma-ray grief
Nuclear twilight offer enticing mutated midnight promises;
cobra kisses of cobalt breath,
instant non-gratification death
delivered on a decaying silk bed of roses
Black widow drone infertility moans
poisons the stratosphere acidic harshly
See the silhouetted pain reflecting
from the montero-shaped mirror
Oh ... how the grim night glows darkly!
Hear the military pawns of Mars,
grunt boots on the ground dying
Civilians combat the fear of pandemic infection,
as the Venus flytrap mouth of human aggression
is ravenously opening wider and wider
Man’s morbid love fixation on death
will make him try to extinguish the light of life
Thus his fatal end, he cannot blindly see
When come the nuclear twilight,
the winter night will glow so ever darkly!
It's always hardest, when there is no one to talk to-
When I dial your number, and it just rings and rings
Until the dreaded "voice mail" picks up.
For just an instant, when there is that brief crackle and "click"-
My hopes skyrocket that you have picked up the phone and answered, when I needed it most, the moment I am most frantic...
But when, in reality, it's just that pre-recorded message that I've heard a million times before; how I loath it
And I feel my heart sinking, like there are anchors tied all around it, dragging it into the depths of my stomach!
Where are you? Can you not feel my desperation through the infinite channels of the universe, or are they clogged and busy, too?
Don't you know that I need you, perhaps now, more than ever?
I know you're at that fancy French restaurant you're always talking about, drinking fine wine and eating escargot, possibly dancing the night away.
While I am here, all alone, eating my own heart out for supper.
All I need, all I want, is a compassionate voice on the other end of the line, talking me down off the ledge once again.
Don't you know I've had too much to drink; that I am listening to sad songs and thinking about doing it again- that awful thing which leaves me so terribly scarred when I wake from my stupor? The cuts. You know, those things you hate to see marring my arms.
But I'll have to resort to self-will and self-control, of which I have so very little...
I may or may not make it through another night of melancholy and self-loathing.
Please, for the love of God, pick up the damn phone!
*Any Poem Goes Contest Entry
~JustThatArchaicPoet
Breaking, bashing, creaking, crashing
Pandemonic pounding pain
Reverberating bone to brain
Slamming, smashing, thrumming, thrashing
Mechanical chaotic grate
Echoing; can't concentrate
Scraping, scarring, jangling jarring
Bastard, broken beat becomes
Endless, dreadful demon drums
Maiming, marring, ringing, roaring
Blaring banging babel beats
Repeats, repeats, repeats, repeats
I saw a candy dish in an antique shop
Made of delicate glass.
But it was chipped where it was dropped,
Marring its crystal class . . .
But I loved it, and bought it just the same.
Later I found an intricate vase,
Also flawed with a hair-line crack.
It seems that every piece of ornate grace
Is damaged in front, or maybe in the back . . .
But I loved it, and bought it just the same.
Then I thought how God must feel when he looks at us.
He created us in His image -- perfect, flawless.
But sin, entering through Adam, was passed on to us.
Then God picked us up with love in His eyes,
And bought us just the same.
He went to sacrificial lengths
To restore our value, and esteem.
This took place at Calvary, where He chose us to redeem.
Now, if we believe, we receive,
and become His Crystal Treasure . . .
A valued prize in His eyes!