Best Neighbourly Poems
We read about the slaughter in a place far overseas,
where the multicultural blending has been there for centuries.
Where church of all denominations have been standing side by side.
Where neighbours have been neighbourly; respect seemed to abide.
Seems that politics and power can infiltrate a settled mind;
dig up and open wounds of what is yours and what is mine,
take citizens back into time and drag out all their roots …
be wary of your ogre neighbour, they have a gun that shoots.
Begin to see those simple folk who lived their simple lives,
follow restlessly and blindly as belief or race revives,
those that helped them yesterday really had a cunning plan,
all they really wanted was, to find a way to cut you down.
Throw them all out on the streets; run them out of town.
Ethnic cleanse the country to make it pure and sound.
If they refuse to leave our home and opt to make a stand -
build a force of vigilantes, to roam and cut them down.
What started as a trickle soon turns into a flood.
The cup that fills with honey can also be filled with blood.
The taste that once was bitter now is the taste that's lusted for,
when seeking out the enclaves to go killing more and more.
A house, once a home of peace stands a shattered monument,
to let the remnants hanging on know what to expect.
Heads displayed on pikes are cheered; graves hold hundreds more.
Babes are sport for bayonets; forgot is what we're fighting for.
Can't live side by side now; there's too much terror going on.
Battle lines are clearer; the sane have taken leave and gone.
Cannons roaring day and night; lines must stand holding fast.
For anyone that's over-run, that day becomes their last.
When the dust has settled and the criminals are hung,
Hate subsides back to the memory; the clean-up has begun.
Do we realize as bloodstains fade; we have a deep rooted call …
needing one spark to set us off - there could be murder in us all.
Accessible,adjacent,adjoining
Akin and alongside-
A man made for us.
Close,connected,contigious,
Neighbourly and nigh-
A man made for us.
Mentor,mediator,moderator
'Twixt and between-
A man made or us.
Advocate and honest broker
Intervening interceder-
A man made for us.
I brought her some flowers and red wine
And I hoped that one day she'd be mine
Crept round the back quietly
And I was aghast to see
Her naked with the neighbour, the swine...
"I was just being neighbourly," said he
My ex could not even look at me
I saw her phone and real quick
Took a compromising pic
Then sent it to her friends and family...
Written on 1st February 2026
Our Neighbours.
In the darkness of the Ramallah night there is a light
An ember of hope, as the world is lowly and begins
To see that suffering is not one sided.
There is fear on both sides of the eyesore walls one
For losing what they have acquired, the other for losing
The little they have left. The victors are sensing they are
Prisoners too and might be on the wrongs side of
The walls as they sink into the ennui of misplaced hubris
Semitic people they are both Moslems, Christians, and
Jews, not fundamentalist in the rising tide of intolerance
Both sides in the world of chaos can find common ground,
They share the same culture, relatives lost in history.
May they overcome strife and find neighbourly peace as
The wind blows bitter dust in the Persian gulf.
As your wish of Persephone’s homecoming
We prepare minimal harvests from upheaval
Lost cause is the aid from ill-advised panic,
This casts doubt on her uncertain retrieval.
Demeter! Eyes of own appreciate our harvest,
These distant fields furrow with guided fracture
Stippled under greenery from a veil’s blockade
Virtues the gauge in which patience decides,
Miniscule the remnants with featureless serenity.
(Demeter)
When serenity further ventures availing hope?
Reminiscing confines a good past as undone!
Full quota the hearsay rumours have it false,
Alas, it is not! Had I reined her close, it might.
What patience has to honour, bereavement has none
Add Persephone’s quandary to the spectroscope,
Your purpose replies with a synopsis of course
Where underworlds design a stark reality to some.
(Views the harvest)
A penchant of well being in spite of mixed moods
Decides the mood, which in turn designs the season
Therefore, devise draining soils to your advantage-
Bale the thrusts of bittersweet as my tears became
Blocked in by sentinels’ the adornment of brilliance
Contrast with vivid twilight a beguiled revelation,
As wheat-sheafs’ bide an arc from golden chariots
Through displays, the haze of genial zephyrs brisk-
Mysteries surmise a whereabouts to quantum leaps
Exhibit confinement of spring to an autumn equinox,
And as therapeutics go, bereavement takes the risk.
~ ~
AD
(Mortals) Who are building nations.
Treasure the divinity of Demeter to all nations-
Answering to each nobility, her problem solving
Storing strength, our harvest elations;
Peace in our time, whilst mood swings evolving
Bond the religious bridge for neighbourly suffice
So we ourselves can understand those lands,
Whose barren terra firma distinguish the entice
Those future developments where trust expands,
More as an understanding, than self-sacrifice.
Mystery Runner
Fog curtain twitched,
Neighbourly insights,
Sudden motion pitched,
Band Aided 'Lycra',
A shaping event horizon,
Of near destruction,
Short pony tail rolled,
A pendulum effect,
Why do fog curtains,
Never use nets?
@Andrew Carnegie, Foggy Chippenham, Jan 7th 2017
If you would like to know a bit about me and my poetry please click this link below:
https://youtu.be/Ic_V7aX4xbk
Based on my consulting this year’s almanac
June 30th being the best possible day for a BBQ out back
I sent out invitations to everyone, I didn’t hold back
There was the lumberjack, the nymphomaniac
The humpback, the hunchback and the hypochondriac
The kleptomaniac, the hemophiliac and the insomniac
No reason to leave out the egomaniac and the pyromaniac
Ooops and how could I almost forget our local amnesiac
I proposed a neighbourly exchange of paperback
I asked them all to contribute, call back or at least provide feedback
Eve of June 30th, gotta prepare my shack
Start to clean vigorously with ammoniac
Wash my floors and dust that miscellaneous bric-a-brac
To make room for guests, park my hatchback in the cul-de-sac
Find bowls for every possible sweet and snack
Think of various games including kayak and piggyback
Think I might serve some type of aphrodisiac
Put together a musical playlist of 60’s to 70’s flashback
Get all set for a promising night of banter and wisecrack
I think I’ve thought of everything and I’m right on track
O gotta go… I think I hear the doorbell- must be Jack
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Puller of a big shell home, no hobo
Tracked brightest of silver patterns
Bold snail, Hugh wobbled with mojo
Hubris resumes his powerful status
Side to side saunter, his slimy slide
Tells everyone of bombastic confidence
Temptations, his charms quickly aquire
Conquests met get exactly what he wants
Big ego feeds his sanguine superior
Fragile actuality of shell's thin build
Ignores Hugh's vulnerable exterior
Sure immortality, greatness not killed
While other average snails take basic
Drinking from small puddles satisfies
On ordinary, Hugh's time never wasted
Licks lascivious in ponds' crystal eyes
Knows all stalks point in his direction
Enviously wishing they had his talent
Lesser eyes try to emulate perfection
Witnessed in wet lipped pond faelic
Translucent Hugh has fearless appeal
Water strewn on shell by his muscles
Flicked back lifted four stalk face feels
His good looks are escape from trouble
Glistening green moss highlights brown
Shell symbol of ultimate great manhood
Stalks merge with surface, he slips down
If hubris could save him, it now would....
Neighbourly snails rushed to his aid
By rushed, I mean a metre a minute
Flailing Hugh refused attempts made
Handsome was never made diminutive
Lost to the pond of many admirations
Hours spent dwelling on his worth
Inflated means neglected summation
Valuable imput not measured by girth
!!!!!
12th September 2020
Submitted:
26th September
For William Kekaula's
Impact and Metaphor
In this democratic country, there has been discussions of this
A Mosque to be built, near Ground Zero their wish
Through their depths of despair, New Yorkers have spoken out
But democratic they'll be, so proud through their doubt
This is what makes a city, at a time like this
To see past the hate, and allow the neighbourly bliss
The following needs to be confirmed in this country of the free
Freedom for it's people, and to do what desires thee
Where ever this Mosque is built, in the surroundings of city life
Unite it's neighbourhood, never turn to previous strife
Next door could be a butchers, a nightclub or a bar
For their doors will never be closed, they'll always be ajar
In New York City, this metropolis that never sleeps
No longer will it see disaster, no more shall it weep
For if you desire to mingle, appreciation of freedom shall play it's part
Become true Americans, build it's future and be it's heart
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/america-2.php
I choose several cliff top properties close to home, as my gardening clients.
One; during our torrential deluging endless rain year - slipped away. Sea foliage entangled hedge intermingled with quintessential pohutukawa sentinels fell. Leaving an almost infinity pool. A few months after owners
moved, new ones moved in.
empty house with pool
duck tenants enjoy sea views
full circle of life
My next gardening visit, I had a good chuckle. There was a whole pool party of ducks in progress! Brought to mind our Real Estate agents adage:
Location - location - location!!!
location so fine
word spreads flock comes to appraise
this nest surely best
After seeing another post on our neighbourly website was determined to capture my own photo of quacker saga. To my amusement, didn't find the pool party in progress, only 3 quackers standing on edge of pool facing the sea. Making duckerly comments.
chill grey sky and sea
only one invited today
not party weather
Little Hedgehog.
Come little shnookim come see what I've found?
It's hard and it's prickly and lives under the ground.
Well it's brown and cute, it likes to eat fruit like you.
So shnookim enquire if that's your desire
before he burrows himself under that log.
Excuse me good friend you could help me no end
and pray tell just what species you are?
Shnookie and I have guessed and we've tried
as we've watched you all day from afar.
The little guy looked surprised as he opened his eyes
and looked up over his log.
No need to fear, he says with good cheer
I'm just your neighbourly friendly hedgehog.
Wiggzy Wormzy
Burrowing
Saying neighbourly hies
As he writhed
From top to bottom
Of the veggie garden
Wiggzy Wormzy
Waving
Sharing friendly hi-fives
As he cantilevered
From leaf to roof
Of the veggie garden
People are hurrying, scurrying, worrying
Frenziedly squirreling clusters away.
Rumbling hypotheses riding on every breeze
Cast a malificent shadow our way.
Spreading pervasively, sneakily, rapidly,
Spanning the continents, changing its tack,
Causing uncertainty, splitting humanity
Interdependency starting to crack.
Tension is rising, it's hardly surprising that
Feverish tremors disquiet the land
Something's approaching, invading, encroaching,
An unwelcome visitor, wholly unplanned.
.........................
Panic diminishes, wariness finishes
Neighbourly kindliness starting to spread,
Care for the elderly, healthy mentality
Sense of engagement and friendship instead.
Atmosphere's changing, the ranting and raging
Uncertainty, death and disease have left town.
Nobler priorities flavour communities
Stage set for change as the curtain comes down.
13.03.20
Coronavirus Covid-19 Poetry Contest - sponsored by Team Poetrysoup N/A
I met her as my colleague
She was in her late 30s
Trying to shield her boundless sad
With her busy schedule and her son.
Chosen to teaching
To forget the in-laws teasing
And parents worrying.
Taken to reading in full swing
And the never-ending serials of the
Wonder idiot box*.
She has got parted away
From her man, we were told by rumours
He was the incarnation of beastly demon
And adulterated with many a woman
Someone said at some time, somewhere.
All her colleagues pay attention to her story
They ask her never
Nor do they accept her ever
As he has run away from him
One noble lady feels
“She is very adamant
He must be good man.”
The truth is that she has not seen him even once
“She could not live with him”
Remarks her one time friend.
“She cannot be adjusted
She is very much egoistic”
One male colleague gives her moral support.
He talks to her always
His looks are always everywhere on her
Her inquisitive boss once quizzed her
“What is your husband?’
As he could not ask her
“Where is your husband?’
She showed her annoyance
But said “He is in the States”
Nobody knows his state.
So, interest is on her marital status.
“Why does not she remarry?” – a concerned voice.
“Who will marry her with a child?” – a concerned response.
The neighbours, not so neighbourly.
Keeps a watch on her by scrutinizing every visitor to her house
Trying to get a degree by researching
About her life.
They know more about her than her
Their research bend of mind needs to be conferred
With a doctoral degree.
The much-learned society
Who would not even come out
When their neighbour’s son met with an accident
Is always ready to tell about her unknown story
Even to a two-minute old friend
And kept open their intelligentsia
To find her life story
As their life’s mission.
She walks in silence
And lives around noises
Not knowing or conniving the murmurs around.
Was born almost eighty-two years ago
No bits, no bytes, just a neighbourly hello
Bits were wee pieces
Bites gave you diseases
Back when “friends” called you a schmoe