Best Modest Poems
I just want five minutes, just to pitch
My killer screenplay for a killer film.
The hunt for a serial killer
By glamorous profilers, nothing grubby
Or exploitive. Some partial nudity,
(Only if required). There’ll be a sexy
Enigmatic hero. First a, er, sexy
Sombre saxophone sighs; on a soccer pitch
Lies the first victim. Tasteful nudity
Reveals one poignant nipple. Open eyes film
Over, dead as moon craters, her grubby
Legs disposed like spoons. She was our killer’s
Anonymous mouse. Our glamorous killer’s
Eyes showed her useless terror. Our sexy
Hero runs a slow hand through his grubby
Hair (Cares too much to wash.) Things touch fever pitch
When the next is abducted. We will film
Her wide eyed writhings. Classy nudity
Perhaps. Some brief tenderness; nudity
Of course; our hero and his wife. (While killer
Stalks a frail, thinly sketched female. We film
From his point of view her private sexy
Underwear clad body.) I want this pitch
To emphasize our Fincheresque grubby
Vision is totally unique. Grubby
Walls connote moral decay. Nudity
Is not exploitive. Our hero pitches
An unorthodox solution. The killer
Is secretly his cross-dressing sexy
Partner. Twisty eh? Never seen on film.
Dressed to Kill? No. Nobody’s heard of that film!
(Who remembers the 80s?) In a grubby
Climax, the mousy cross-dressing, sexy
Basement stalks saxophone solos. Nudity
Washes its private underthings. Killer
Underwear is arrested. That’s the pitch!
Contains grubby scenes of sexy violence.
Contains killer nudity and mild scenes of extreme peril.
Contains high pitched screams and discarded spoons.
A Modest Proposal
By Roy Merritt
Doctor Swift wrote it anonymously
His delicate modest proposal
His idea to save the poor Irish
Was to make their children disposal
He was lampooning Petty and Bacon
Quite popular upon that year
Their notions of how society be taken
And socially engineered
He wrote of the poor Irish
How they going to waste
And how a child of just one year
Might appeal to one’s taste
They could be roasted, stewed,
Or boiled long in a pot you see
To be sliced into ragout
And made delicious as fricassee
So let no man talk of expedients
Of taxes on landlords absentee
Let no man talk of new taxes
Or leveling them at me
No clothing do they need
Or furniture to sit astride
Not one penny for luxury
Or vain human pride
It would cure much idleness
Keep women safe and pure
Parsimony and patriotism
The only way to endure
Prudence and temperance
And love of one’s native sand
Was how they should differ
From the Laps in Lapland
And thus the small children
Could prove a fine subject
Not be bemoaned as a burden
But a benefit to the public
You might would put on weight
If the child is particularly sweet
And I don’t doubt be easy to chew
So tender would be their meat
I don’t doubt either as times
get worse in this nation
That some bloody right wing fool
Bring Swift into the conversation
Instead of depending on food stamps
When little food you got
Just reach over into that crib
And throw the kid into the pot
Just reach over into that crib
And throw your kid into the pot
"...and
the modist
carving
into the
closet
door
read:
"I do not place my life, nor my trust,
my belief nor my faith within
the
resume
of man,
nor within
his cause.
For he
proclaimed,
is but a
mere
farthing
of his
merest
self;
and not
of Me.
He is
an avid
boasting;
ungrateful,
in the end
still unwilling
to know Me
and share Me
with all life.
Yes, time
is only a
vergence
forgone
to him.
His final
day he
will bring;
and in the way,
he brings this
he cannot rest.
I am certain of this."
"Signed: "Peace"
An ever reflective heart, spirit, mind, body, and soul, nice to meet you, friend.
Some have once called the dreamer as self-serving within the jest that they carry for themselves.
I have no resume of security, nor the double mind found through shame, pain, without submitting this effort to our Creator.
I will not seek to please the mere twist of myself. for in applying myself towards this effort, means dishonor in death.
How best may we serve, because I've said my prayers and am learning, I must apply myself to nothing less?
If this effort is merely for myself, be forewarned I will lead us off of a cliff with the pigs.
As I am being moved today, I am being formed into shape.
I mean to say, I am not the wonton victim today.
I am my very own jailer alone, no, I have no pardon for myself, all by myself.
Jesus, come, protect, Jesus, save who needs to be saved, save us from ourselves.
Jesus, keep us willing, bless us to share You as we will with the truth that carries all of us even in and through the very pain of death.
Keep the breath of life within us, bless us to save face in Your Presence, let this effort be our only wealth.
A Modest Proposal
By Elton Camp
A solution to the nursing home problem found
There are two groups who must switch around
To nursing homes the criminals must move
The old folks to prison their lot to improve
Pensioners would get showers twice a week
And have interesting hobbies they can seek
For free all their medical needs will be met
And any necessary medications they’ll get
Constant video monitoring would be in place
To provide instant response just in case
Twice a week their bedding made clean
Clothes washed and ironed will be keen
Three square meals a day they’d enjoy
A library and weight room to employ
There’ll be a secure exercise yard
To get a television won’t be hard
The criminals would get meals cold
And have to do whatever they’re told
One shower a week will be all
And often no attendant to call
If they complain, nobody will care
Or listen to those living in there
Six thousand a month crooks will pay
And have no hope of ever getting away
For this proposal, criticism I may get
Though I can’t benefit from it yet
Of selfish motives I am free
It’s what seems best to me
He grew his own food,
And sewed his own clothes,
He owed no one,
But shared with everyone.
He rejected larceny,
Refrained from intrigue,
Spurned lust, lies and malice,
Spoke only kindness
And practiced but prudence.
He was a modest man… are we?
All rights released into Public Domain
Frailty of Power and Strength of being Modest
Whoever is doing business
Eye for detail must have
One could be doing dizziness
Should one misbehave.
*
Our errant Town Councillor
With all majesty endowed
Needs a Social Counsellor
To secure honour bestowed.
*
Not least unruly Preacher
Who, from sin must reform,
Would he not want a Teacher
For nurture to conform!
*
Also the mystified Minister....
Who is here just by chance
Orientation to administer
And stir him from his trance!
***
Why can’t us from student
Modest, we lower or spurn,
Yet, humble and prudent,
Big self, one or two learn?
*
Demetrios’ *cry for wisdom
Yearning not for power.....
Wealth and the Kingdom,
Will reward this Follower!
*
Humble and loyal as a Dog
Dog, a Man’s best Friend;
You may flog it with a log
It won’t stop or relent!
*
When Solomon prayed
Wealth poured forth.
Anania an’ Saphira strayed
They begot their worth!
*
From the mouths of babies
Salvation forth will pour-
He cursed wayward sages
Who, Humility did deplore.
*
I learn it all from nature; +
A bird at flight my Tutor
Bird song gives me stature
To serenade my Suitor!
*
Open vista of the waves +
With briny water creases
Idle mind mine it raves
Praise of He it releases.
*
Love of mother leopard
To its nimble litter....
Mine, would I not Shepherd
To bow to the Creator?
• With humble reference to Demetrios, the Epigram Icon’s Poem: SEDUCED BY.
+ Inspired by Mark Peterson’s Poem: NO WORDS
JM
30th Oct’ 2013
A picture perfect
Heaven beheld modestly
Grass and sky alike
Who gathered me
in his arms
to comfort me
the man who wore
the crown of thorns
the redeemer
of the cross.
My cat thinks she’s got,
To use only her litter
Box inside the house.
Outside for hours she holds it;
Jets to box from doorway!
O' Jehovah
if I may have the honor,
let her be as beautiful
as petals of a flower.
Let her be as humble
as a beloved servant.
Let her be as joyful,
quiet and modest.
May she be as spiritual-
Just as you desire.
Teach me how to love her so deeply
she'll never wonder for how long.
Deeper than the deepest oceans.
So deep that words are not required.
No, just a glance that spells "Forever".
To be certain,
I'll utter this
Just loud enough to be heard,
"I love you very much."
Chanté Walker
I promise
Not to promise
Waterfalls
from careless creeks
I vow
not to allow
Expectations of mountains
in handfuls of pebbles
I declare
to be fair
about my dark
coated heart
I assure
not to impure
The scarlet blue
surrounding you
My intent
though modest bent
Heaven and Earth
is what you're worth.
06/04/20
The decor of laces,
And fragrance of lavenders,
In the land of Georgia,
With attire of antiques,
The melody of wind chimes,
Echoing in harmony with grand piano,
Like heaven is playing harp,
And pearls bursting everywhere,
O, the modesty of it all,
Dressed up in high class,
Candles in rustic brass holder,
Lighting up off white wall,
Exploring ivory artfully crafted everywhere,
Rustic kitchen with wooden floor,
Washing bowl on cherry wooden table,
And outhouse under weeping willow tree,
Shining pond with lilies floating,
With creamy violets encompassing around,
A porch with rocking wooden chairs,
With peach ribbon decor everywhere,
Everything that resembles morality,
Were inked dry with a feather pen.
Love gently, love forever,
that you may be truly alone never.
Stand firm, stand for something, stand true,
that the one falling should never be you.
Fight strong, fight as one who defends,
that you may never lose your friends.
Live as yourself, live with virtue nigh,
that you may, in legacy, never die.
I adore modest women,
so soft-spoken and
very elegant,
who aren't looking for men
to seduce without being
atrracted to them!
There's a shortage of men,
and they try to get whomever they can,
ugly, handsome or good- for -nothing;
all they want is pleasure, not a friend!
I love simple women
who are fashionable
and very sleek;
I love women
who can look in their mirror
and say to themselves,
" I'm beautiful! "
Honesty can make any man weak,
enough to give them much more!
Be careful of women who touch their face
when they laugh and pretend to like your kisses,
giving you the illusion of a full moon...
in the middle of a hot afternoon:
you will burn, but won't remember a darned thing;
and all that wasted energy for a quick sling!
I adore modest women
who don't wear lots of make up...
to hide a despised face;
isn't simplicity
another form of beauty?
I adore modest women
who undress you when they're hot...
they make you feel wanted without words:
and that's when my passion starts up,
and I become a real man!
They started with a puddle,
And ended with a maple.
View of river when sunset.
And them being the modest.
Beautiful not to look beyond it.
But hard to read through it.
Wondering what can be their bridle,
Where, melancholy is the only disciple.