Best Minutest Poems
He was growing old and senile and his hair began to fall,
And he perched on a stool to tell accounts of the past,
Of how he’d fought for his country and of his manifold valiant deeds,
Speaking of patriotic comrades who’d long returned to dust.
His neighbors sometimes thought that his stories were a joke
But elders who had understanding of the past
Knew his honesty and the truthfulness with which he spoke;
But we don’t hear his tales today for the old Musyoka passed way.
Not many mourned him, perhaps only his children and wife,
For he led an ordinary uneventful lifestyle;
He had a part-time job and a family, calmly heading his way;
The world did not know when death took his nationalistic smile.
When thievish politicians die of eating too much
Their sinful corpses honorably lie in state
While spoon-fed sycophants give crammed eulogies,
But a freedom soldier quietly succumbs to his unfortunate fate.
It seems the greatest contribution to the wellbeing of our republic
Is to lie to the people and severally break your unfeasible promises,
But the patriotic soldier who lays down his life for the country,
Goes unnoticed to his grave without the minutest of praises.
The earnings of a politician are more than their service,
But a patriotic soldier gives up his life to protect his countrymen,
Yet his pension is small and old age and disease the only rewards,
And an ordinary death awaits him at three score and ten.
It is easy to forget old Musyokas for they live no more,
Even disregard that such heroes ever went to the battlefield,
But I hear heart-rending cries from forgotten graves yonder,
Where old Musyokas and their devoted mates restlessly lie.
They cry, “sons and daughters, we died like common folks,
Yet we are the reason why you enjoy the peace you have,
We lost our arms and legs and most of us died cheap as a fox;
Will you deny us a simple and costless thing such as honor?”
I loathe hearing the fallen old Musyoka and mates haunt me so
But I’m not the commander-in-chief of the land,
Nor am I some legislator in the August House,
I can’t honor a fly, but old Musyoka won’t understand.
Categories:
minutest, patriotic,
Form:
Verse
Iniquity, impunity, injustice invade Internet interaction
Alongside odious obliteration and cunning coercion
Facilitated and militated with unabashed attention and intention
To minutest details
To misspell the capture of heads and tails
Which in essence sells injustice and slays sails
The freedom Internet users
Ought to enjoy without being the losers
In their contest against data users and choosers
Who profess innocence against their intrusive offence from users
To peel and steal data from users whom data abusers
Ignore, preferring the status not of beggars but choosers and misusers
Who spend colossal resources
To glean data from user sources
In asymmetric interactions and discourses
In which users’ voice
Deprived of consultation channel and choice
Grants no invoice
To stalkers
Hackers
With their technology backers
Ascertain they enjoy monopoly
In mining and refining user data sold to a duopoly
Within their Tripoli oligopoly
To gain and regain the stranglehold
They impose on a user’s household
Where they deprive the user of room to withhold
Permission in any session
Early in his life or late in his pension
Within a notorious dispensation
In which users as victims
Join slave and knave teams
Roasting from scolding steams
As they watch helpless
Their data resource plundered in a place
On the Internet shoe from which a disgrace necklace
Dangles
Bungles
Angles
In shame and blame
To claim a lame and tame name
That boasts of a brutal claim from a dotcom dame
Whose achievement stems from stealing
Stalking, dealing and feeling
Superior upon stealing data and using desecrated data on a sordid ceiling.
Categories:
minutest, poems,
Form:
Free verse
Windhoek, 2000
Nabucodonosor! thou shouldst be living at this epoch:
Namibia hath desire of thee: she is a quagmire
Of quiet rainwaters: slab, blade, and cage,
Inglenook, the courageous fortune of manor and retreat,
Have sacrificed their primeval culture talent.
But those who came before us will teach us.
They will teach us from the wisdom of former generations.
When we are tired, we are attacked by ideas we conquered long ago.
But looking back we do not find what we left behind.
Scars have the strange power to remind us that our past is real
Unfortunately, the clock is ticking, the hours are going by
Until all our emphasis befits
The creatures we used to be,
The gaffes we made in our lifetime.
Oh, if only we could see
What we are now that we were then?
May memory restore again and again
The tiniest tint of the minutest era:
Past is the school in which we learn,
Antiquity is the intensity in which we burn.
There's a realm of astuteness in our previous.
Our souls are lost and tossed like a ship unruddered in a shoreless sea.
Our lifecycle is a flair, a gift that only we can give.
Why waste something so precious.
Categories:
minutest, 12th grade, age, analogy,
Form:
ABC
===================================
~*~
Earth
Air
Water
Fire
~ Terrestrial home
~Realms of soaring Eagles
~Kingdom of marine treasures
~Flaring effulgence
" CLASSICAL ELEMENTS "
Four Rootage of Life existence
Believed to be the origin of all subsistence
From the Biggest to the Minutest
From the massive to the Lightest
From the most Universal to the most Particular
Butterflies, flowers
Birds, clouds
Dolphins, seabeds
Trees, grass, leaves
Sun, moon, atmosphere
Earth, Life and "EVERYTHING"
Through LOVE - combined
Through STRIFE - separated ...
~*~
===============================================
*-* EMPEDOCLES PHILOSOPHICAL PROJECT *-*
everything is made up of the four elemental roots...
...air,water,earth and fire...
all possible through the 2 forces known as
" LOVE " which combines these roots to form
a certain special object
and " STRIFE " which separates them when they die.
Categories:
minutest, nature, philosophy, life, love,
Form:
Free verse
We born in love
We grown in love
We lived in love
We died in love
We pass moment in love
We relate together in love
We discover in love
We are in fame in love
Every thought and feeling
Every sensation and realization
Every rhythm in mind and soul
Engrossed in relative love
You and I, and I and you
Both living and nonliving
Both concrete and abstract
Melted in ever growing love
In nature or in space
In universe or in diverse
In hell or in heaven
Everywhere chained in love
From atom to molecule
From molecule to atom
In minutest pace of cell
Ever rhythmic in love
Visible and invisible
Relativity synchronize
Between lovers’ heart
We lucky we are in love
.....................
Categories:
minutest, devotion, life, love, universe,
Form:
Light Verse
Give me no limits
Limitless sky
and vast ocean,
No boundaries
breaths will follow,
Sunshine pierces
the minutest,
Moon brushes in sleep,
God created no limits!
Why should I
His daughter,
follow any limits O man,
That you created
just to subjugate ?
What to wear
When to laugh
Whom to talk
Making friends with
Why these limits ??
Putting a full stop
to my thoughts,
No freedom
of expression
or education,
Snatching rhythm
off my heartbeats,
Am I not human ?
Unacceptable are,
The narrow visions
that don't let us grow,
Gender inequality
that ought to raise a brow,
Don't measure my span
as I take a flight,
Care for my emotions
give me no limits !
Written August 5th, 2015
© Dr. Upma A. Sharma
For contest "Limits" by Chase trevi
Categories:
minutest, life,
Form:
Free verse
When desires end
An emptiness to my soul stings,
And treasured memories now haunt,
Heartache rhymes with mood swings,
As tears of grief constantly flaunt,
Tranquil in veins lays all my want.
Blooms of spring are now history,
Vibrant autumn blown by breeze,
Echoes and reflections end in mystery,
As the golden moments with time freeze,
Feelings of hurt can anyone squeeze ?
Those rosy paints that glowed in grace,
Sprouts of depression could not defend,
And ate throbbing hues to minutest trace,
A final point where all desires end,
Till body and soul advent an eternal blend.
Written August 13th, 2015
For contest by Francine Roberts
Entered now for "Sadness" poetry contest by Silent one
Awarded 2nd place win
Categories:
minutest, deep, depression,
Form:
Quintain (English)
An ethereal vision
Iridescent her hues
Locks of spun gold
A mermaid I'm told
This mythical creature
from Atlantis it's been said
In the blink of an eye
In the minutest breath
In the tenderest heart beat
I was feeling bereft
Did I really catch a glimpse
or was it wishful thinking
Searching the horizon
with eyelids a blinking
No signs were left
There was nothing - no inkling
As searching in vain
For proof she had been there
upon some distant rocks
gently combing golden locks
21st September 2019
Contest Name: MERMAIDS
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
Contest Strand Select 10
Sponsor Brian Strand
HONOURABLE MENTION
Categories:
minutest, beauty, fantasy, joy, mythology,
Form:
Rhyme
There comes a rise before the fall.
And there is that that destroys all.
But in the debris there is a distress call.
A call for help that pleads to all.
The minutest aid is essential.
And a word of encouragement is more than enough.
For what is destroyed has to be rebuilt.
And mistakes have to be corrected.
For a cut down tree regrows
And a burnt piece of land reflourishes.
With it's debris serving as lessons.
Lessons that are essential for future growth.
But now with experience, development is faster.
And caution serves as its measure.
Triumph as it's pleasure.
And progress as it's desire,
Comes after destruction,
And after the storm..
Categories:
minutest, recovery from...,
Form:
Rhyme
EDGAR CAYCE
True, true, my hands are soft– not overworked,
nor lined by heavy labor-- nor calloused
-- the soft hands of a gentleman, perhaps!
But my manners are rough and countryfied,
my speech slow and southern– hillbilly twang–
Kentucky born and bred-- just barely schooled,
crude-souled, unrefined, a bit of a rube
– more than once I have heard me so described!
And, of course, I’m not well-read– no classics,
knowing but little of this great wide world--
then these trances come-- I must leave myself!
Go swim through the thick soup of life itself!
Here we have the body– for its own use–
(supposedly, for that’s the theory)
– for transport, pleasure, for dream, sentience–
and Death looms large in the imagination,
as it must in them that guess their own end
-- a variety of common ailments--
– disease and injury, cancer, famine,
not to say blindness-- fear of falling–
and, always, small physical pains and aches–
though not so small as to go unnoticed!
Nor should we forget to mention accident
– who habitates far from cause and effect–
propinquity’s most unlovely stepchild!
But beyond all that– who is this person here?
Who is this spirit dressed in mortal clothes?
Where do we find the psyche, the engine,
the driver makes this body move about
in some realm of coexistence with God?
I've visited in both lung and liver,
swam the blood through all the veins– toe to head–
traveled through intestine and out again,
been one with nerve and bone and cartelidge–
I’ve mapped the heart, viewed ventricles, aorta,
looked out through pupil of another’s eye
– experienced both sets of genitals--
even seen the brain while it was at work--
yet still– I can tell you nothing-- nothing!
My Presbyterian soul so hungers for a sign
– the minutest spark of some divine light–
and I must confess– I have not found it!
Only once, whilst dreaming in the pineal,
I glimpsed a long parade of empty carts
that traveled quickly down all the bright years
to be filled by an unknown unseen hand–
Categories:
minutest, angst, death, faith, god,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
we tried time
for many of our own discrepancies
there is not enough we bellowed
from cave to condominium
grabbed disrespectfully its minutest
portion and dragged it to court.
there is the job lined up,
on the line or maybe in line
the latest craze to master
the kinder need camp
planning for the future
and must keep up with those Jones
whom ever they may be
no one has ever found them, yet.
untouched time moved on
as it always will
pitying we poor folks.
Categories:
minutest, angst, character, fate,
Form:
Free verse
Just coz you're taken and I'm taken,
Don't lemme limit my love for you.
You're adored for who you're,
and that's enough but I guess you don't have a clue.
It's amazing how much we can give and receive within our boundaries
But guess no one ever chooses to take a preview
At times, your wisdom is something I can't withstand
Wisdom to an extent that you would often understand and choose to say, "I don't understand"
You've confused me more than anyone ever could-
One moment, your rudeness pushes me away,
Another moment, your generosity melts me away.
One moment, I would give up,
Another moment, I just give in.
It's your patience that drives me crazy,
Boils me in anger;
Then it's your patience that melts roaring clouds into hues of amber.
It's your patience that tests my limits,
Then it's your patience that has extended my limits...
It took me courage to be vulnerable,
Fear of rejection, fear of 'No's', fear of being turned down,
Fear of it not working out,
Fear of shame, fear of not being the best,
Fear of my mind being at someone's behest.
But when I overcame all of this fear,
I did find a world beyond-
A world of joy,
A world of love,
A world of wholeheartedness,
A world of kindness,
A fearless world free of regrets.
Just coz you can't get the right words to express,
Just coz you don't want your heart to be seen,
Just coz you've settled with calling it 'feelings unseen',
Just coz you have chosen to appear as not having minutest of clue,
Don't lemme limit my love for you
Categories:
minutest, conflict, confusion, courage, love,
Form:
Light Verse
Are lingering sighs, while expressing disbelief
Showing some frustration ere welcome relief,
With sincere, rapt attention to what it entails
Carefully absorbing the minutest of details,
Sometimes with the aid of a silk handkerchief.
Then, too, observing the most foolish mischief
Showing itself in a variety of impetuous motif
Sending one off the straight and narrow rails,
Are lingering sighs.
A heavy sigh can denote suspension of belief
Or registering information requiring a debrief,
To assure utmost security from whatever assails
Attention-getting, to be sure, notice never fails,
Quite different from sudden breath-taking grief
Are lingering sighs.
Categories:
minutest, perspective,
Form:
Rondeau
We live in a world where world leaders do what they want
Shoving nationalism down our throats here there and everywhere
From Putin the Dog’s Neo Soviet adventures in Ukraine and Syria
To President Trumpton’s use of American weapons like toys
Via England and Wales kissing goodbye to Europe in Brexit
There is misplaced national pride everywhere
Including Turkey’s Erdogan the Goat’s goal of being dictator Iran style
Backed up by France’s National Front racist anti-immigration female Le Pen
These bumholes work together to take the world back a century
Stomping upon their populations’ wishes and liberties
In the name of misguided pride and national advantages
Where only the leaders benefit with even more power and control
Red China has Xi the Turtle who steals an entire ocean and builds new land
Closely followed by North Korea’s dear plump pudding leader who’s a pure psychopath
There will be fifty others not mentioned who are all the same
Pedaling their selfish ideals and beliefs in the name of national development
Catching every person in a vice like grip and stealing their freedom
All to make an Orwellian Twenty First century world where people are pawns
With every thought and each action monitored in minutest detail
The only escape is death and a one way trip to the next world
Away from this inherently unstable place with its mad leaders
Categories:
minutest, abuse, humanity, parody, political,
Form:
Verse
Ponder me - I'm the best poetic expression, my father had wrote.
Awful me - I'm the depth of calmness, an eye of storm shows.
Fearful me - I'm the lord of darkness, residing beneath the light.
Cheerful me - I'm the light of lightness, children adore to hug.
Joyful me - I'm the pleasure of a new born, when motherly angel nears.
Wishful me - I'm the wise of the wisest, like showering grace of sun.
Colourful me - I'm the blush of the rose, picked and worn in romance.
Tearful me - I'm the cry of the heaven, drowning the earth of hope.
Blissful me - I'm the minute of the minutest, allowed to wander in this world.
Humble me falling into the pit of ignorance
Boasting myself, for impressions in distant hearts.
Third Place in I AM: A LIST BIO CHALLENGE Poetry Contest sponsored by Andrea Dietrich
Categories:
minutest, i am, identity, me,
Form:
List