Best No Alternative Poems
we choose to reject
the null hypothesis
when it is true,
but why I still love you leaves
no alternative
He was born in the year 1899
A cruel birth, pregnancy poisoning
The birth of the child became the mother's death
The father of the boy was crushed by love
... he hated and blamed the boy
He did not want to know, hear or have anything to do with the child
Timothy grew up with his old grandmother
As a baby he cries both day and night
When he got older he was a confined and sad boy
Drawing was the only thing he liked,
children express themselves through drawing
A cruel world he designed, always in black
No researchers interpreted his drawings at that time
It was cause for concern, he drew death
The personality traits were his own cruel death
Timothy concealed his pain, but for him no alternative solutions
He is already struggling with suicidal thougths
Grandmother died when he was 11 years old, life seemed so scary
Helpless and afraid he jumped into the river
two days after his grandmother's death ... a black night without moonlight
Both of them were buried on the same day and place
The grave is always guarded by a black raven
27.03.2018
Sun :) A-L Andresen :)
Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joseph May
Image1
5th place in the contest
I have learnt a very painful lesson:
those you love most will hurt you the most.
Your heart, laid bear, is defenseless
There is no alternative.
You must risk all for love,
or live as one dead.
It is better
to love than
not to
love.
Love
is life
I'd rather
live with your pain
than live without you.
I'll kiss inflicted wounds
I'll caress marks left by thorns.
I'll bear what excruciates me.
Loving you is the sweetest torment!
The lesson stands: love hurts, but you're worth it!
For Silent One's Contest
Lessons Learnt in Life
2: Its always those you love the most that will hurt you the most
October 4, 2015
Capitalism has been blamed by worthless people rich in power and other peoples' money.
True capitalism earns money.
Jobs are created by capitalists.
Workers earn a living from them.
Bankers gather together workers savings and use this money to create more by usury. This is not capitalism,
although they do capitalize on other peoples earnings
(and greed)
They also are "The Federal Reserve"
(They run the money!!) Not congress (They passed it off)
Politicians have capitalized on their positions to such an extent that anyone elected to congress is set for life
even if he is never re-elected.
They made these rules.
They decided their salaries and benefits.
They decided how much to tax us.
They created offices and positions of power, departments of "Government"
At incredible costs to us all.
To the point that other governments in less free countries use their peoples' money to lend to us.
We have been sold out.
The blame is being put on "Big Business" "Wall Street" and all those rich Capitalists
Our representatives, Your representatives have no alternative than to turn to Socialism in order to keep lining
their pockets and living beyond their means.
It is too late to seek and elect real representatives.
They own (have bought) the majority of voters.
America has been stolen.
Me? just another sucker! But at least now you(the reader) know what you've lost
(Or stolen)
Growing Up In A Christian Household
My dad was such a FRAMER then that I oft just felt like a FARMER,
No alternative routes accepted, no reasons other,
Only their special Christian gospel that did mother,
Slippy slimy slowness, a slave’s sleeve slipped in for sloth.
17/12/2015
Greatest Fear
Arachne turned spider by curse of Goddess
to weave and weave non- stop as lifelong process.
Baseless fear of spider is a stupid mania,
scientifically termed ‘Arachne Phobia’.
Africa is the zone of primitive human being,
where dreadful poisonous black spider was wandering.
Into human genes intrusion of spider phobia
is more or less developed since long ancient era.
Mom, me, and all my siblings younger or older,
each is scared just by look of spider, my worst fear.
Once we stayed in a house encircled by tall trees,
spreading long branches to touch windows at ease.
Off and on spiders took chances to enter threatening me.
To kill by one stroke of broom was the duty of my hubby.
One day my little daughter rushed from dining room,
yelling ’Large spider is chasing me. Come with the broom.’
What to do! I felt so helpless, so scared of venom
I was alone puzzled and hubby was not at home.
No alternative, I had to be valorous.
Just by single stroke I killed the furious.
05/15/16
Your Greatest Fear Poetry Contest by Lewis Raynes.
of water sign, Cancerians are most emotional of all
seem moon cold but are warm and glow as luminol
sensitive individuals, they are caring and giving
circulate in familiar circles and are home loving
always nourish and nurture their relationships
take good care of all friends when down in chips
they don’t expect a return for their own favors
even distant ones can get a feel of their flavors
they are quite protective of their personal spaces
such as interests, possessions, and relationships
guided by intuition they think out-of-the-box
relying bit on gut feeling, logic at spurs is lost
they may easily be affected by failures and setbacks
and are prone to pessimism and lack the whack
their mood swings are famous and unpredictable
but it can be a bit overwhelming for other people
Cancerians are said to be tad complex and conservative
they cross-check everything, leaving you no alternative
over-sensitive, they tend to harbour imaginary hurts
doubts when cleared, can suffer from bouts of regrets
they are protective of their emotions and can be cringy
can’t let go of things easily and not help but be a clingy
The affliction I have encountered has fastened my lips,
And I am at a loss for words therefore my feelings I cannot express.
However, as I dip the end of my quill into apprehension,
And with urgency of these accounts, I am compelled to...confess.
Yet me fear is that the paper shall not bear the weight...
Of the emotional agony that my heart has experienced of late.
It so happened, that my heart was fashioned amidst a floral bouquet,
And presented to a loved one who I thought may appreciate this fragile display.
It’s symbolic interpretation conveying the importance of love with marital intent,
When I learned of its acceptance, it brought feelings of sheer delight and a sense that it was well spent.
However, as the years ebbed away and love was an inconvenience that caused a rift,
Well my love stood firm but alas hers had gone adrift.
Her speech that was once nectar, now lacked the evocation of affection,
Her conduct boasts utter resentment and rejection.
She speech id flavoured with words of severing our connection,
A pretence to cover her affairs by avoid public circumspection.
My lips are conserved by love’s rebuff and mournful sorrow,
Even my pen fails to compose my hearts deepest tenderness and is considered a foe.
I have no alternative but to mend my broken heart and adorn it in an array,
To seek a true dwelling place next to one that appreciates it’s beauty and hope it will come one day.
She put herself out there
Alone, cleansed from the stink of the city
She perfects the art of quieting one's mind
The fading blah blah blah's, a relic of "Civilization"
She hears slight groans from above and below
A sickening wrench to her heart
The transmission is unanimous
"STOP!!!!!", "PLEASE!!", "THERE'S STILL TIME..."
Cedar, stone, and river feel the break coming
If only the stewards renewed their vows to Terra
From out of the black she snaps awake, eyes of terror, urgency and hope
It is clear to her what she must do, no alternative
She must return to the metropolis she loathes
To rally the spiritually dead, to reconnect them to planet frequencies
She sacrifices herself for her love of the land and the hope of her brethren
She’s dead
But will always stay alive
A beacon for everyone with a gripe
Thatcher snatcher was their war cry
When with apparent vigour
She tore asunder all society held dear
A divisive strong willed fighter
With femininity covering a steely frame
She moved gracefully among men
A force of reckoning
In a world sphere where enemies are held dear
She finally met her maker
But will never die
Her legacy outlives her presence
A formidable opponent now in a grave
With glee they gloat
Ding dong the wicked witch is finally dead
Praises and condemnation come from all over the globe
Some will assess her on her overall impact
Both then and until now
Others will always remember wrongs
That were brutally inflicted
On an apparently obedient society and country
Dragging us away from our empire building
Death always calls
He will not be out smarted
No matter the heights in politics one reaches
An end of a life
Often brings a renewed interest in the past
The bandwagon has catapulted her
Back into The limelight
When she was almost forgotten
To divide and rule seemed to have been her best skill
Her un-bending no alternative mantra
Caused much ill-will
Yet the country prospered
The right to buy scheme made
Home ownership possible
A vote buying scheme
That made the middle class grow
Pity the milk tokens are what condemns her so
She hammered a few who with
Entrenched special interest
Mangled the country
Stagnating both the economy
And society
The belief in individuality
Coupled with free market economics
Set up a house of cards that blew over
Long before she breathed her last
Virulent machismo
Where the sharks circled
Even when they smelt no blood
Overcame her eventually
She was of course partly to blame
But no one has ruled since as she did
A woman in a man’s world was she
Wielding much power
Over the men that surrounded her
Over Her party and ultimately a short sighted country
To the pinnacle of both party
And country she rose
Her handbag swung far and wide
Her three times victory
A testimony to her longevity
And he ability to play the system
She didn't invent
Rest In peace
Or pieces Maggie
You came
You Conquered and
Have now left the stage
Your legacy will be fought over incessantly
PROGRESS: Living
Newspapers and Magazines are different from the past
With the pictures words and format rearranged.
The striving and the needs of the people seem to last,
It is only sights and sounds that since have changed.
The buildings are now taller, and the walls are glass not stone.
The vehicles make more noise than horse-drawn carts.
There are super-market chains, instead of shops, that stood alone,
And sold everything from nails to apple tarts.
Mr Lawson penned his verses of the people in the city,
And saw the gutter children fighting in the dust.
He looked out on their faces with sorrow and with pity
But did not let them know whom they could trust.
Our people of all ages, still squat in doorways of the shops,
Or in great big cardboard boxes they call home.
The run-a-ways and homeless, as street-wise as the cops
Are left, with no alternative but to roam.
Silently crying, heavily sighing, struggling along on tired, dusty feet
We who have all that we need to without trying,
Can help if we don’t turn away when we meet…
Those tired and weary faces we see in our streets.
Sorrow and pity cannot shield our folk from harm,
When the need is for stability, by putting wrong to right,
Pity and sorrow does not hold any worth or charm,
Or keep people warm on cold wet winter’s nights
With taxes and excise filling States’ and Federal coffers,
All our governments today have enough to share
With all folk in need; fathers, children, mothers
Without a home, without food, wanting; needing care.
The goodness of our countries and our peoples are renowned,
For helping all in need and giving what they can,
We must continue fighting poverty, wherever it is found.
Giving, when need is present, whether woman, child or man.
© 2011 Wordancer
Through the bank account
over painted naivety
it is so intense just to be here
between look and expectation
knowing
I'm just one step from alighting
to be
your personal abyss
afford me completeness
in the same way that
high ranked husband
of well polished wife
pays to a prostitute
by the sadness of creator
using the silk ribbon
you are compressing my foot
(praying that it will stop the growth as the way you'll keep me yours )
I promise that I'll learn:
- to wash my hands in that lemon juice after finishing the portion of high quality
shrimps
- I won't applause in that gap between two arias
- I will pull on that poker face when your hand suddenly leaves mine while we're
standing in the street and you are asking me for an address as you are lost ....
sorry sir I can't help you, I am not from here
with naive faith-
secret is easier to bear in two-
piece of paper
adopted the image of birth
grey tiles
mannerly disinfected
under the glasses misplaced empathy
hand in the pocket of white coat
and naive faith
i guess there is no alternative
when the only thing left as your heritage are nails
i wish it is not the life
and that just a day went wrong
this way
only thing left is a label of
river
down which
no one will ever again dare to
release the paper boats
it would be better
everything
if only
it crossed your mind
to
tide my tubes
The rotting wood below my feet is stroked by the shadow of a chain
Which keeps my hands still, but busy; an agony in unison, afloat.
My mind has learned to drift and wander, many miles away
But the pain always finds a way to intrude, to pierce, to cut.
I hear the crack of the whip, and a scream, and I do not feel a thing.
Again to my silent relief, only seen in my sagging shoulders; it is someone else’s pain,
The constant clap and glide of the oars continues unabated; ‘cept one
As he shudders in a heap, the oar nudging his head; one hundred comforting him.
Our backs face our destination and only the pilot sees the course ahead
Which now waits for us as we rest; for the drum- beat has now ceased…
There is no relief in that workless moment, for our thoughts moan and cry
At the time just ahead, when we will sway and pull and scream
Silently.
But with a roar, the sky shouts and weeps for us, and bolts shoot
Down and silently, missing us against our pleas and prayers.
We do not want to die, but the life we have is no alternative.
For we are dying
Slowly.
The whip cracks, a man weeps, and we all
Shiver.
Me and my friend was heading to somewhere by a car
It was a dead and stormy night.
Suddenly the sky is crying helplessly.
The wind is making horror sound everywhere.
There was lightening as well.
After a while the gusty wind dropped onto the glasses of car.
I couldn't see anything at a distant place.
Trees were started to fallen on the roadside.
In the mean time they blocked the high way.
There was no alternative way to pass and to reach to our destination.
We decided it's better we find out a place for our safety and we could pass our night.
It's seems we reached into the Ghost world.
We couldn't see not a single house around there.
After walking couple of minutes we noticed a shadow of a house .
It was only an old house into the dark forest.
It can be compared with an oldest giant Palace.
The main residents of that Palace were pigeons and wild owls.
Our mind was full of worries.
We had to win our fears to save us from the storm.
Finally we reached in front of the lion's door.
We had no idea how oldest that Palace was.
Inside that building was completely dark.
We couldn't see each other.
Anyhow we managed to light a candel.
The spider net was everywhere.
Some places of the ceiling was about to fall.
They needed just a feather touch.
Then they would be collapsed .
The surrounding nature of that Palace seemed that it was eagerly waiting for human flesh.
We managed a place to sleep.
There was no sleep in our eyes.
The wild foxes were barking around that Palace.
It seemed they were crying for meals.
We didn't know when we fell into the deepest sleep.
When we woke up the sun light was trying to peep through the broken windows.
It seemed we were nothing but into a horrific dream.
The road was crystal clear. There was no sign of fallen trees.
What was really happened with us then?
A scream surrounded by grey walls is trying to get through
on the wooden desk
a piece of paper
is waiting
for the last words to be written
piece of paper
started it all
refusing to participate in führer's circus
a piece of paper
tried to spread the word
in polluted minds of the people
piece of paper
declared the war to their false prophecy
and there was no alternative
now
decapitated bodies paid the price for
by cowardice silenced humanity
waiting till this
justice charade gets tired of self-delusion
face to face
she said to them
- all of you will soon be standing where we are standing now -
she was right
and
sun is still shining
*In memory of the White rose members execution.