Best Moralities Poems
Playing With Fire
Afraid for your miscreant soul
While the Devils licking tongues of flame at your heel
With oh so dirty thoughts
Afraid for the flesh
As you are lead to the pits
All the torture there in of your imagination conceives
Be pleased, to afflict on someone else
Swallow your morals
Like a sanctity pill
A Eucharist aspirin swilled down on holy water
Fear the flesh you stalwart middle class
While the upper-class
Enjoy what you cannot
As you wallow in the resistance of sin
And narrow your life to acquiescence
Puerile in such judgements
Of fickle moralities pleasure
Live a life unlived
And all its pleasure turn to guilt and reprieve
Salvation will come
When it ends
Ascend then, the Jacobs Ladder to heaven
Never knowing what it meant
To kiss with abandon
But rather, suckle to demon lips
All those desires in their fetish of flesh
One last look at the skin you left
Untested
Resist my swarthy middle mass citizens
And ply the trade
Of your own oppression
Condemn me, I dare you, to some raging inferno
Where the appeasing of your righteousness
Knows no bounds
In another climactic prayer for torture
I will play with the bonfire
Rather than mess with poor dripping candles
I will stand proud and defiant
And declare that I
Am Human
for Christie
Categories:
moralities, devotionprayer, life,
Form:
Free verse
Unsung Children
Somewhere deep inside you
Behind the patches and the plasters
Of your broken heart
Somewhere in the shadows
Lays the summer of your soul
As timid as a naked flower
Before revealing the splendour of her petals
To the world
Somewhere running under the rivers of your veins
With the same fragile courage of porcelain
Your tenderness is stronger
Than any army’s rage
And I wish I could take you
Hand held out into the sun
Show you how the cracks and scars
Will be your deliverance
Turn those solemn sorrows faded burdens
Into the breaking clouds of blessed rain
Washes away the ugly stain
Till you see yourself again
Somewhere in the soil and earth of being one
The rooted light and love patiently wait upon
Waiting for the moment
When you burst out from behind the grey
To stand your own salute to the overcome
And I wish I could discover
The realisation of who you are
The exponential trigger
Which would shoot you out to your freedom
With the truth in the splendour of your sacred flower
Leaving you amazed and unafraid
In the libation of your own illumination
To see
All which you couldn’t believe
And which disbelief has bidden
All which you were forced to disbelieve
And which believing has so hidden
Behind the plasters and the patches
Of your broken heart
I know that I am unable
To wipe away the anguish and your pain
But if I could for just one moment
Ask you look into this mirror
For you to see yourself
Once again
You would see the salt in your tears
Are the shinning diamonds
Of your heart
In the unsung forgiveness
And the sacrifices
You have made
“ Wake up my precious loves
“ Slowly steady the nightmare shall recede
“ See
“ With me
“ My precious loves
“ How wonderful
“ You really are
Dedicated to all my friends and my unknown companions
Who as children suffered abuse in any form
It is our lot, to be the un-understood
The cold ignored and the lost forgotten
And an embarrassment to moralities fickle truth
We do, however, have each other
“ X ” Col
Categories:
moralities, dedication
Form:
Free verse
They don’t understand our situation
They say they do behind their t.vs. and CNN
Half hearted donations
Safe behind locked doors and minivans
Saying “Just go to school, just get a job”
“work hard and you’ll get your due”
“This I promise you”
While they take my taxes and spend it on
Killing people like me
Citizens, innocent women and children
People of different colored skin
Blaming people like me, saying that I’m the reason
Why America is going downhill
Losing moralities
Shootouts and killings
They just don’t understand our situation
This is a war
Soldiers outlined in chalk
Concrete Angels
We don't bring the violence
Violence seeks us
They just don't understand the damn situation
They think that I love to live
In poverty, dejection
Never seeing my parents because they work minimum wage jobs
Pushing them until their bones grind
And it’s my rage against the damn machine this time
Myself, working two occupations
with a lower class education
Trying to take advantage of what
My situation
Can dish out to me
I’m squeezing out the last flippin’ penny
Taking 9 classes at a time
War against the poor, right?
The rich get richer and the poor worse off
Then when it all started
Playing my only trump card over and over
But when they change the rules, what’s my future
Going to be?
Yes, this is my future, so leave it up to me
Stay behind the damned SUVS and flippin’
Suburbia Universe, Leave it to Beaver
To hack off my opportunities
Because I’m sick and tired of
False Robin Hoods running around like their saving the world
But really, they are just
Robbin’ hoods
Categories:
moralities, angst, social, urban, people,
Form:
Free verse
Things confuse me easily these days
it might be age or some kind of rare
oncoming dementia preparing me for
a difficult but joyous passage of elder
time fulfilling my wildest dreams or perhaps
a period of prolonged revelation of prophecies
and keys that I alone will possess and heads
of State and ministers and elegant dignitaries
will stand in line to have an audience with me
just to have the good
fortune of hearing a
few pearls of wisdom
that will completely change
their perceptions and ways of thinking about
governing irritated populations that will make
them realize that harmony amongst all the peoples
of the world is a great and simple thing a kind of Babel in reverse and that the hunger for power for conquest and for control is a long and twisted journey over too many broken bodies of thought too many centuries down dark and lonely roads
with no demarcations or clues
no sacrificial boundaries and a
wasted expense of Capital on tanks and rockets and plutonium and the building up of armies instead of cultivating an educated and healthy populace capable of enjoying their lives and nature without destroying it and each other
and that pointing fingers
and screaming and filling valleys and neighborhoods with rivers of blood and lifeless bodies old and young is much less profitable and will prove over the long haul that the myriad unknowns and commonalities and fears we all share are far less destructive than the surface disparities that somehow always manage to turn into declarations of aggression and oppression and the bankrupting of moralities and policies and families…
or maybe it has to do with my
not getting enough sleep last night
or something to do with changes in my
eating habits or the climate or a reaction
to the round-the-clock radio waves
that surround us all
Categories:
moralities, anxiety, uplifting,
Form:
Verse
A beautiful ring
with a distinctive design
two hands clasping a heart
which is surmounted by a crown
two souls joining hands in friendship
both hold a loving heart within
strengthened by steadfast loyalty
these remarkable traits
transcend generations
and the limits of borders
a very old tradition worth noting
especially during the times
of fading moralities
Categories:
moralities, beautiful, philosophy, symbolism,
Form:
Free verse
3/10/17
Across the entire galaxy
Areas with high to little amounts of gravity
Places torn asunder from catastrophes
And calamities
Causing widespread agony
Events occured slowly and rapidly
Lifeforms with similar and very different anatomies
Any of which may have experienced tragedy
Art of all kinds, occasionally on tapestry
Those with and without any moralities
Experienced or unfamilar with gadgetry
Before, during and after the first and last majesty
Still to this very day, much considered sacrilege and blasphemy
It's a travesty
Because there is more important things happening above and below canopies
Beside, on and nowhere near any balconies
People obsessed and putting out death threats over another's sexuality
Actions carried out callously
With brutality
On purpose or randomly
Showing no practicality
In all actuality
Movies and games of fantasy
But for now I'm talking reality
Staying in touch with my spirituality
While having a plan and strategy
A true man I'll be
Always there for my family
Regardless of if others relate or are not understanding me
Take care of yourself, and any cavity
Don't let it get worse and turn into atrophy
Relations hostile or having amity
Others battling insanity
Apathy
And/ or displaying vanity
Due to their own mentality
I'd like to become experienced with many different things including alchemy
This was intended to be more than a rhapsody
And written with voracity
By: Dalton Ogletree
Categories:
moralities, poetry, rap, word play,
Form:
Rhyme
I hold three magic rocks, in my hand
Rolling them over and over and over
Leaving this reality behind, far behind...
I know not where I'm headed to,
the sage's advice, my only clue :
"Enlightenment is now in your hands,
take much heed when you let it land..."
One magic rock was crimson blood,
turned fiery hot when it glowed--
I could not help but drop it,
the ground it struck was lit
The flames began to form images,
of war, of humanity enraged,
showed what happened when anger ruled,
when greed turned men to fools
The second rock was pearly white,
turned ice cold when its light died,
my hand stung, and so I let it fall,
rippling the lake, and I was enthralled...
Distorted images came to view,
of moralities askewed,
it chilled my soul to realize
this world has been desensitized
The last rock, alas was bleak and grey,
rough in my hands where it lay...
I wondered what other horrors it had in store,
so I knelt on my knees and prayed to the Lord...
I sought for forgiveness, for times gone astray,
asked for strength and courage, to find the way...
thanked Him for all the blessings I often neglect,
then ended with praises, and a genuflect
I unclasped my hands, the grey rock slipped below
it landed with a soft thud, then it started to glow
It showed me a place where three crosses stood,
then it was clear to me, I fully understood...
The plainest rock was the most precious one,
a silent witness on that fateful day
when the Son's blood was shed, so we can all be saved.
**The first three lines are not my own, but that of Constance La France's...
Categories:
moralities, faith, inspirationalmagic,
Form:
Narrative
Autumns leaves fall from a tree
Swiftly drifting further from me
Autumn feels of home
Out of pace breathing under bone
Lay here hurting itching bleeding
Just a life distracted releasing
Although i wonder in disbilief
Just wanna carry weight for grief
Blood soaked hands of late
Running reverse collapse of fate
Lies distorted of formalities
Corpses pain my moralities
Suit up and stand still
The devils breath a chill
Dancing with men who scorns
Scalps worn on above their horns
Forgotten as a faulty dream
Ruptured vein saturated scream
Believe in hate anomaly
Repeat the void constantly...
Categories:
moralities, addiction, adventure, anger, anxiety,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
As children that start life,
in societys around the world,
born from natures natural innocence,
seeds to a future untold,
humanities hope against continued strife,,
They're bombarded in every generation,
sometimes pushed beyond thier limits,
educated to mimic generations before,
to contribute in societal benefit,
solid soverign cornerstones built foundation,,
But, few in every generation,
beaten down egos that bruised,
green eyed and evily prideful,
the transformation that abused,
the wrongly heald souls direction,,
The evil children intentions arise,
from shadows they no-longer hide,
destablizing cornerstones they slowly shatter,
illusional gods of despotive pride,
in a world liberty dies,,
Moralities of fope enternally springs,
from revolutions then children make,
they all start in independence,
aware of all at stake,
the untold future war brings,,
In liberty thats never progressive,
taking up arms for freedom,
the human spirit forever endures,
that evil can never fathom,
liberty will NOT be submissive!.....
Categories:
moralities, class, community, corruption, dark,
Form:
Rhyme
have faith in ourselves...
abilities...not wishes...
initiatives...
be wonder absorbed...
joy is in the universe...
sacredness of mind...
drifting with tide...
and the classical logics...
doubt is companion...
misunderstandings...
and hijacked moralities...
waves and storms raging the seas...
convince man of "x"...
then frighten with fable tales...
mental slavery...
have no illusions...
this life is all we can know...
live it to the full...
stan sand
Categories:
moralities, allegory, analogy,
Form:
Haiku
It's sad to reminisce the memory of those
who have long left our world without a chance for goodbyes....
I was left behind for an unexplainable reason
to fulfill a task with a true purpose;
and still walking and breathing I go on,
gathering tiny fragments of stories never told by writers.
Sometimes I tell myself," Why was I continuously spared?"
" Why do I have to be the last one to leave?"
Those answers will be given to me when I'll grieve,
and close to death : I will hear them through the voice of the Lord.
And instead of receiving comfort, I will generously give it...
even to the enemy who once despised my honesty;
and coexisting with everyone, I will uphold my ethical code and go forth,
not cogitating the mystery of my unblemished identity.
Many before me have achieved this by resisting change,
not adapting to the new moralities dictated by society,
but the result was too tragic and gruesome for all to accept reality;
and as lepers with open wounds, they still indulged in pleasure,
hiding their disease with canning lies and eloquent flair....
I would cut off my own hands, rather than share the unclean thing!
And still walking and breathing, my arduous mission must be complete:
neither ridicule nor contemptible looks will make me put my rod away!
I'll stick to my convictions and move on to delight in another blessed day,
and as bewildered as they may be, I refuse to be compassionate...
they must understand the purpose of my birth,
identify those works and deeds that give me worth,
then the outcome wouldn't be short of a miracle;
and ebullient as they appear, I suspect they will tremble!
Categories:
moralities, anniversary, death, loss, love,
Form:
Rhyme
(for chikbok girls four years after elegies of lost)
And we opened the book of remembrance again
Tickling all ears that are designed to be deadly.
We filled the cups & buckets with tears of blood,
Bloody tears as the cloud rises from dark night
& the horizon of our lives radio out our prayers
in pleasure & pleas recording poetry into broken
Rhythms of the kings bird' songs singing elegies untold. We recoiled this pages of cries into folded arms. Lost is our liberty ephemeral into chaos.
This light of darkness are now printed in our
palms of history tormenting our own feelings.
they left home through the corruption of their father's land. You know, their lies ferried them
into Sambisa to go & tell a tale of their crimes.
the chromosomes of their pigments lacked the bravery within the wrinkled nose of their cheeks.
Lives are buttered fireflies &worms of mediocre...
We may not know how pains taste until untitled chapters of sorrow unfold in our lives to seek revengeful voyage of our sins towards our home.
We televised their lies on the national televisions,
tilted the head of our cocked brain into gadgets
in a ballroom of miscreants clothing our beliefs.
I opened this book of remembrance again,
For my lazy sisters that struggles effortlessly amidst leaves and shrubs of looting leaders.
for their tears composed a musical notes,
for their fight created astraying street steer
I held upto these fallin' memories in a graveyard
into the abstract demon of my noble moralities,
into black races, into an abstract journeys.
brittle of the papers written in absence of our
ourselves, in the pictures of our lost self issues.
we will gather these soothsayers to the cloud
to sooth out those prilgrim girls in the moon.
till then, let this dance be of survival &revival,
of those deaf & dumb girls kept in the bosom of emptiness. they made them voiceless like the pages of a blank books but we know all their magic tricks in the closet of their ignorance.
No chikbok, no Dapchi girls but looting politics,
Politics that has strange mouth & shadows.
Until this madness is cleansed from our souls
Point towards your chambers & crack your mind
We are mocked movies trying to be seen by all,
a documented fairy tale in the heart of all.
©John Chizoba Vincent
From_A_Pen_Refusing_frustration
Categories:
moralities, abuse, africa, art,
Form:
Blank verse
I just know I would see that smile again
I just know I would hear that childish laughter again
Why, life on Earth is not the end of the road
Rather, it is a mere transiting station
One with an aim already foretold
Indeed, here one is meant to acquire more spiritual knowledge
So as to be prepared to take up duties in the world of the privileged
There, in the world known as the one other
There, in the world said to be the one purer
Here, one is already fated to leave
Of such, we should not grieve
Rather, we should only care to live our lives
And cater to our duties and to our moralities
Such is what I had read once,
In those books made of wise soothing words
Those books from which I learnt so much
Those books into which I do only yearn to drown myself in
So, when I got news that my peer has left without saying goodbye
Even if swallowed my gulp, checked my fast beating heart
And held back my tears
I also looked at the skies and smiled
For I just know that I shall see that smile again
For now, life shall be a pain
Yes, life shall even turn out to be a disdain
But no goodbye is to be seen to be a final one
Somehow, I shall hear that laughter again
I shall get to bear with that taunt again
I shall have, by then, already unraveled the puzzles of life
And I shall understand and accept the timing of that goodbye
For in that world other,
I would see life from a different view
Pitying my once blinded self
Pitying the many who remained still blinded, with no awakening
Life, a mere wondrous piece of soulful torture
Is to be lived as it is
With arms opened wide, ready to welcome anything that it gives to us
From new friendships, to painful goodbyes!
Categories:
moralities, death, life,
Form:
Rhyme
Who is thy friend
Who is thy friend?
Who is thy foe?
Who is pulling the strings?
And enemy, to both
In turbulent times
Of clarity; misdirection
The enemy, o’ thy enemy
In backlash; insurrection
As world war III
May be on the brink
A sleeper-cell media
Propagandas, our think
As the righteous of self
Are soldiers, misled
Infiltrate on thy neighbor
For, what they feel, offend
As free speech is expressed
With violence and destruction
Has a first strike been struck?
As moralities expulsion
Your rights, my rights
Whose rights are right?
Without respect and compassion
Your cause, contradicts
Your very right
To fight
© 2017 Jeffrey Spencer
Categories:
moralities, confusion,
Form:
Rhyme
I still stand
Have a chance
Mike in my hand
Lyrically band
Drums beating
Cymbals clashed
Titans passed
Powers situations
Bolts metaphorically hating
Pacing Blues
Sue pursue
Royalties with no moves
Jacking prices
To get a sail
Back down river bends and boats
Seattle with no coasts
Trailing door knobs without a turn
Skipped
Tripped Sun burn
Comcast
Infinity
Antennas remotely
Coated Symphony
Operatic Anomalies
Fake paced with properties
State faced moralities
Given sentence no warning
Exclamation interrogation
Periodically visitations
Paroled up
Handcuffs taken to another case
What stand
Back at it again
Chance
Categories:
moralities, abuse, betrayal, faith, prison,
Form:
Lyric