Best Nominated Poems


Premium Member Characterization

Our two party system isn’t working
Plastic figures, disaster lurking
Conservative or liberal isn’t the call
It’s the ultra rich against us all
For the people is what it’s not
All candidates have already been bought
Platforms built on promises and lies
Hear the people, ignore their cries
Wave that flag as if you’re proud
Then bow and worship the corporate crowd
You no longer serve, you’re out of place
You are an elitist group, a public disgrace
You’ve subsidized the rich with your insanity
Then crippled the growth of humanity
You’ve killed our children in endless war
The media smiles and keeps the score
We sing of amber waves of grain
You’d sell it all for personal gain
You left our budget in disarray
You’ll tax our grandchildren for it someday
No water boarding terrorists you warn
Then murder a child who is still unborn
You have no ethics, you have no shame
You have no morals, you accept no blame
Washington is a place I’m told
Where politicians are bought and sold
Where dreams and ideals are destroyed
A city where honesty is null and void
A place where hope has been dethroned
You won’t get nominated unless you’re owned
A place where once” In God we trust”
Now we look in sheer disgust
Country burning from your sparks
You replaced Uncle Sam with Karl Marx
Our nominees we cannot select
The media decides who we elect.
Politicians with great orations
Puppets to the corporations.
Categories: nominated, political
Form: Couplet

Taking a Stand

Our children are dying
Lying down facing the street
Our own kind has made the task easy for others to complete
From slavery by our own people
To the hand of those who thinks of us as unequal
For they too look at us as a disgrace to the world’s sequel
Beneath all that we’ve been taught
Has a price for our minds to be bought 
Controlled by our daily interest
Watching, listening and thinking has destroyed our hope 
Now we started wishing
Petitioning around the world
Trying to fight for our little boys and little girls
Praying to the Lord what have we done? 
Keeping our hearts filled with faith
Yet the war feels like we haven’t won
Still surrounded by legal murderers with guns
Old and young
Oppressed by what we use to believe in and proud to shout through our lungs
Now our trust has been crushed
Trying to figure out how my skin is nominated in being punished
Expressing to my daughters and sons 
That it’s no time to worry about the hottest outfit or latest Jordan’s
Never listen to the news but pay attention to the rules
Of how they show nothing but the blues of their future
Give them encouragement and ideas
To better themselves than the ones already out here
Remind them to never forget who you are
Always set yourself aside from negativity and never be apart
Knowledge is power s know more than your name
But know your ancestor’s land
When you find out then you’ll be able to take a stand
Categories: nominated, baptism, beautiful, beauty, bible,
Form: Suzette Prime

An Ode To Turkeys

An Ode to Turkeys
     By Dane Smith-Johnsen

I
There was a time, year one thousand A.D
U.S. turkeys faced a brand new plight.
Usefulness seen.
Native American's hunting delight. 
The white meat of a turkey is quite lean.
So much healthier than man knew before,
Nothing one ever could say,
In any way,
Would make Americans free turkeys anymore.

II
Thanksgiving comes and goes.
Wild turkey gobbling slows.
Ben Franklin watched their plight.
Nominated, though laughter did flare.
Turkeys beneath the moonlight
Were beautiful out there.
Ben suggested, turks as the nation's bird.
But eagles know, it was not so.
And turks in history endured this nations birth.

III
Although wild turkeys can run fast and fly,
Toms might in spring be found.
Fluffing, dancing around.
Caruncle and waddle shiny, bright red
Courting the hens, showing off, prancing, not dead.  
Although turkeys fly strong,
The hunters by day kept watch in the fields.
Until, Old Tom, no more sang passion's song
And hens under bushes sat on eggs long.
When chicks hatched out and played their mother shields.
But on Thanksgiving Day...
Run away!


Note: Carolyn, thanks for the video suggestion.  It is very funny.  I decided to post the link 
here.  The HISTORICAL one is found at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w1213z9KHNs  
(TIME HEALS ALL: We do LOVE you, MOTHER ENGLAND... from you we were BORN.)
The HYSTERICAL one is found at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JnLyqBtU_F8

ENJOY the FUN!
Categories: nominated, animals, holidaythanksgiving, mother, thanksgiving
Form: Rhyme

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Public Speaking

The fear of Public Speaking  has been with me always
but never like it was on that June evening so many years ago.
I still get gut wrenching panic when I think about that time,
it really seems like only yesterday....

A late bloomer, extremely shy, it was a horror to be
selected as  Valedictorian of my high school class. For weeks 
I had trouble sleeping and could barely eat. I knew
disaster was close at hand..
.
The day of graduation I prayed for a quick death, thought
seriously of faking a terminal illness, and  cried all afternoon.
And you know what? It was just a bad as I thought it 
would be.....

My throat closed, I whispered and croaked and didn't say 
one coherent thing. Dead silence. Then clapping, 
led by my frantic parents. No one ever mentioned the debacle..
but at our ten year reunion I was nominated as the girl
who had changed the most. Oh, that little victory was sweet.
but, dear God, I still remember......


For John Heck's contest..
Categories: nominated, angst, natural disastersgraduation, high
Form: Narrative

My Guru

Lord Krishna came 
Much later than Rama,
According to the Puranas.
But in my life it is the other way round:
Krishna, my Guru, came into this world 
Much before I did.

He is my friend, philosopher, and guide—
Not a cliché. 
He spotted me at the Mecca 
Of English Studies in India,        
And taught me; 
Saved me once
From a dangerous Kali Yuga Vamana,
Who nearly killed me.

Krishna has helped me in more than one way.
One great example:
He made me realize my own strength,
As did Jambavan to Hanuman.

He sent me to a Land of Kings in the North, 
To teach the followers of a Saint;
Then, to a holy town in the South
To teach a bunch of learners—easy to teach,
And I was eager to teach.
Chose to write books with me
On Philosophy and Rhetoric       		
For posterity to benefit.

Nominated me Yuvacaharya,
That is, his heir apparent.
Then, went a step further
And nicknamed me Brahma Rishi, 
A title, as you may remember,
Awarded by Sage Vasishta to Viswamitra.
That amounts to equating me
With himself—a great honour!

Thus, his love for me is 
Something like Marjara Nyaya,
Like, that is, that of the cat taking 
Exemplary care of its kitten.

All this he did to me
With no strings attached.
No expectations.
No barter.
And this I consider
An excellent example of detachment 
Or Nishkamya karma,
As preached by Lord Krishna, in His Gita.
And, now, as practiced 
By Krishna, my Guru,
In this Kaliyuga or Postmodern times. 

He has been betrayed, alas,
As was Jesus by Judas.
But Jesus had only one betrayer,
But Krishna has had more.

That did not, however, 
Turn him away from virtue;
Did not turn him sour.
He remains positive, energetic—as ever.
Age cannot wither him, 
Nor custom stale his infinite variety.

God bless him!

***
© Ram R. V.  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: nominated, deep, devotion, humanity,
Form: Free verse

Game

What a name called? 
Football a game called, 
To known arena called stadium, 
Played eleven to eleven side to side each, 
Formations of it kinds, 
Aims of a two goal post net, 
Aims of a trophy, 
Aims of winning, 
In a color Jersey of its kinds, 
In a color booths of it kinds, 
Side to side balls picking sons round, 
Spectators sat rounding pitch watching, 
Centered with a nominated referee officiating, 
Lined with a two lines men flagged, 
Officials of substitutions in questions, 
Pronounced by named commentators, 
Red and yellow cards rules in question, 
Supported keys of volunteers, 
Supported with all sorts of supporters, 
Declared a stadium manager jobs, 
Declared a team manager jobs, 
Host the nations, Host the world, 
At moment of a country designated! 
At moment of a country authorized! 
Called for all practitioners....
Photographers, Cinematography, Press, Medias, Adverts, Sponsors, critics, etc. centred. 

What a name called? 
Football! football! ! football! ! ! 
A rounded leather circled! 
Circled in its color of its choices, 
Declared fifa authorities, 
Declared statistical over all game, 
Respect covered face to face, 
Stretchers officials in uniforms of its officials medications, 
Football a game called, 
With boots of its kinds worn, 
Saddled a whole lot supporters, 
Saddled a whole lot analysts, 
Presumption for a nation's glory, 
Preemptive individuals' desirably for survival, 
Football a game called, 
Called to the passionate in spirit, 
Football a game called, 
Embrace understanding to unnamed, 
Embrace love to unloved, 
Embrace unity to diversities, 
Embrace creativity to un-creativity, 
Football a game called, 
Adore a nature, 
Football a game called, 
Called to a glorious home, 
Football a game called, 
A rounded leather circled! 
With boots of its played, 
With jersey of its kinds, 
With choices of many kinds, 
Football a game called.
Categories: nominated, sports,
Form: Double Dactyl


Premium Member If Ever I Had a Country: Lxxiv

IF EVER I HAD A COUNTRY : LXXIV

IF ever I had a country proud of its sacred Soul Patrie
And if ever by a long shot I was nominated - not spuriously elected - Chef Ministre d'Etat 
        Plenipotentiary
The first thing I'd do is to give the Minister of Justice the sack in a hurry
I'll then take over his post and issue a long awaited (you'll agree) and needed decree
That henceforth any razor-sharp lawyer and his erudite team appointed by a client for a    
       very very high fee
To defend protect and facilitate the " escape " of any known criminal whose ill-gotten 
       gains burst bank-vaults to a brain-numbing degree
That the lawyer and his team be given the DOUBLE of the sentence meted out to the 
       criminal and be put away minus their licences to practise LAW in an Alcatraz-like 
       penitentiary
And this even if I never ever had no country to call my own with or without any patrimony


(The late eminent Vietnamese-French lawyer, Maître JACQUES VERGES, renowned for among other feats the defence of KLAUS BARBIE, the NAZI " chief " under the French Vichy regime, was also the Secrétaire de la Conférence des Avocats/Examiner for those wishing to practise law in France. And yet, in a case where I was concerned with revolting Master's and Doctoral students at the Sorbonne-Nouvelle University, he subtly had my case scuttled to prop up mainly Muslim and African-origin students - openly backed by JAMES BALDWIN -  who objected vehemently to being taught, besides numerous other Commonwealth authors, V. S. NAIPAUL's The Guerillas, together with Eva Peron and The Killings in Trinidad, students who also took exception to any comparison, by way of structural influence, of WOLE SOYINKA's The Road, with Greek tragedies.) 


© T. Wignesan - Paris, March 8, 2019
© T Wignesan  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: nominated, education, graduation, prison, religion,
Form: Dramatic Monologue

Premium Member In the Hands of the Weaver - Anyi

The air is heavy like a dirty woolen blanket
each colorful strand pulled through the warp.
Horns blare and traffic skids and screeches
as unborn accidents are aborted 
by fancy-pants cops.

The city slickers in their posh clothes
zip along toward the outskirts 
avoiding those in dirndl-shaped, Polleras skirts
and Monteras hats, as if ashamed,
either of their own roots, or of the neglect.

The road to El Salvador* is long
weaving along rough pacific shore lines
wefting past fishing villages, 
and cement factories with tangerine groves, 
each lane bringing the colors of modern life.
The oranges, red and pinks of fine fabric repeated
in on the metal surfaces of trucks, buses, and motor cabs.
Each person’s destiny pulled and pushed 
by the action of man, earth and tide
forward, ever forward..through 
the dunes of Lima’s desert.

The invaders hug the hillside,
thousands upon thousands, of rural poor,
driven from the teat of the mother by earth quakes
and the terror caused by The Shining Path.*
Mao lives on in the upheaval caused by his ideology.
Yet, so does ayni*, the helping hand of neighbor,
the brown-skinned hand, more used 
to the bobbin than the gun. 
Here they have come in oneness
a finished soul on a back-strap loom,
dyed and drying in the heat 
of Lima’s desert
they bloom. 


*El Salvador- a shanty-town 45 min outside of Lima
with 350,000 residents. This community was nominated
for a Nobel Peace Prize in 1986 excellence 
in social work and community growth

**Shining Path-The Communist Party of Peru
is a Maoist terrorist organization in Peru.[

*** ayni- Quechua culture is centered upon community
and mutual help (“ayni”). Their social system is based 
on the principle of reciprocity: helping a neighbor 
to be helped in return.
Categories: nominated, devotion, family, history, hope,
Form: Free verse

Satan On Satin

*Acrostic*

*Satan On Satin*

Sinister movements enhance  
Advancements. Yoga pants,
Tight thighs, erotic prance.
Attraction at first glance.
Now, let me see you belly dance!

Opulent in your sexual fixations and you've
Nominated me because of my self confidence!

Sexy as hell and loves to dominate, that 
Apple bottom makes me want to procreate.
Teasing, kissing my abdomen, 
Increased flow rate!
Now, let me see your belly dance


Jared Pickett
3/20/2014
Asavvy1
Categories: nominated, adventure, freedom, journey,
Form: Acrostic

Premium Member If Ever I Had a Country : Lxxii - Continued-

IF EVER I HAD A COUNTRY : LXXII

IF ever I had a country with or without nationality
And if ever I were elected or nominated Chief Patriot of this God-forsaken mis-carriaged country
And if ever my country - minus the nation - were to be on the verge of being invaded by other countries which religiously subscribe to the notion of " God-bless-us-first " in all exclusivity
I would make it the point of utmost urgence to challenge such insolent uppity countries on their concept of nationality by tabling a motion on the definition of patriotism as opposed to that of nationalism in the United Nations General Assembly
All at the risk of being expelled from that august self-effacing ineffective body and my own blasted country in utter ignominy
And I'd command all patriots to take up arms against and shoot at sight the back-thumping nationalists within my country for fear they may join hands with the invading xenophobic nationalists to enslave and throttle all patriots - y compris the Chief Patriot - in my dear old patrie
And this, even if I were to be unconstitutionally nominated Chief Patriot by all die-hard  nationalists in within my own country
Even if I never ever had no country not legitimately sworn in at the United Nations General Assembly

© T. Wignesan - Paris, November 20, 2018
© T Wignesan  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: nominated, betrayal, patriotic, satire, slavery,
Form: Dramatic Monologue

Premium Member Discursive Nonsense!

There are few things that provoke me anymore or are apt to make me curse,
Except fer the guv'mint a-meddlin' in my life and a-pickin' at my purse!
Fergive me fer expressin' myself with such crass and inelegant verse,
But, I git so irate at times that I feel like throwin' rocks at a hearse!

I receive tons of mail in my box beggin' donations fer this and that.
Yesterday, there was a sobbin' plea for dough to save the marsupial rat!
I even got a letter askin' fer funds to help develop Bin Laden's legal brief!
That's akin to askin' Mrs. Custer to donate to the Fund For Indian Relief!

Mr. Washington, our first Commander-in-Chief, established a solid legacy.
The following quotation he left for us to muse upon for posterity:
"Happiness and moral duty are inseparably connected!" he did bequeath!
Never have truer words of wisdom been uttered through falser teeth!

Now, I ain't the smartest guy around and I often git confused.
I often confound my spouse, leavin' her to state, "We are not amused!"
So if a perplexin' problem arises and rather than be misunderstood,
I'll pose, "My understanding of this situation ain't very well understood!"

I doubt I'll be nominated fer a Pulitzer Prize fer this masterpiece,
Nor will I be considered fer Poet Laureate fer this nonsensical piece.
But I refuse to write about doom and gloom or especially to eligize,
So, Mr. Pulitzer if you don't appreciate it, you can keep your prize!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Categories: nominated, funnyme, me,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Joe Bonamassa - Blues Guitarist

 
"When your down and out you need some Joe Bonamassa."

                                     Quote by _ Constance 

His music is raunchy and moody, his voice raspy yet smooth.  If I close my
eyes I am in a rundown bar in the middle of nowhere down and out on luck.
His name is Joe Leonard Bonamassa, an American born blues rock guitarist, singer and songwriter. Born in 1977, he grew up in Utica, New York, USA.
His parents Len and Delia were avid blues music fans and owned a music 
store and this is where Joe got his love for guitars. He started playing guitar
at four years old.  At twelve he was playing with B.B. King and has played 
with many notable artists.  He has fifteen solo albums, and eleven of them
have reached No.1 on the Billboard Blues Chart.  He has been nominated for
three Grammy Awards.  He has his own record label called Keeping Blues 
Alive Records where he supports blues musicians and their music.

Something interesting about Joe is his vast collection of guitars and amps,
four hundred or more.  Most are vintage.  He has been buying them all his 
life.  A room in his home is called the Bona-seum ! He loves his Fender
Telecaster that he nicknamed Bludgeon.  But, there is another rare and 
valuable guitar that he uses in concerts, a 1958 Gibson, Flying V, he calls
Amos after the original owner Amos Arthur.  I love this man, his music, his
message. He can play the blues for me anytime. He keeps his private life
private, I like that about him !


random lyrics from
Mind's Eye
Joe Bonamassa
help I'm going down
need someone
to slow the spiral down
reach up, dig deeper
I'm haunted by memories
you can'nt see

_____________________
May 07, 2023

Poetry/Bio/Joe Bonamassa - Blues Guitarist
Copyright Protected, ID 05-1545-662-07
All Rights Reservered, 2023, Constance La France

Written for the Premiere contest, Joe Bonamassa Inspiration
sponsor, Robert James Liquori, Judged 05/07/2023

First Place
Categories: nominated, blue, celebrity,
Form: Bio

Warner C Baxter -Acrostic

Words of Warner is the title of my second book, coming soon
Author, songwriter, musician, producer, philosopher, poet
Recognized as a poet of merit International Society of Poets
Nominated as poet of the year 2007 by The Society of Poets
Editors choice award, Howard Ely managing editor poetry.com 
Romance rhyme rant ribaldry rhythmic lyrics patriotic and more

Collection of titles

Bazooka Joe is Gum, Belated, Be Kind, Big Brown Eyes
American Time, Arizona spring, ABC's of Pie, Amazing
X rated: Hedgehog, Miss Honey Lynn, **** star Prayer
Tumultuous Traveler, Tom’s a Peeper, Time, Tomorrow
Easter Acrostic, Every day is Father's day, Easter Cross
Rock ‘n Roll Dream, Renegade Man, Rising from the East


and so much more
Categories: nominated, books, dedication, identity, me,
Form: Name

Premium Member Poyecto De Tren Instantaneo Entre Santiago Y Puerto Montt By Nicanor Parra, Translated By T Wignesan

Proyecto de tren instantaneo entre Santiago y Puerto Montt by Nicanor Parra, Translated by T. Wignesan

Soliloquio del Individuo by Nicanor Parra, Translated by T Wignesan 

(Homage to Nicanor PARRA, 1914-2018, the Chilean ANTI-POET, winner of the "Cervantes Prize" (the highest literary honour for writers in Spanish), four times nominated for the Nobel Prize, studied Physics (Brown University), Cosmology (Oxford University) and taught maths and physics for some 40 years, but styles himself as the Poet who writes "Anti-Poems" - a fresh 
chastising wind to debunk self-styled poets hardly born to the métier but drunk with their own effete and ephemeral voices. T. Wignesan, Paris, 2016.) 

The Anatomy of the Instantaneous Train (plying) between Santiago and Puerto Montt

The engine of the instantaneous train
    occupies the place of the destination (Pto Montt)
      while the last coach
       straddles the station of departure (Stgo)

This type of train affords the passenger
     the advantage of arriving instantaneously at Puerto Montt   
      at the very moment he boards the last coach
       in Santiago

The rub is in order to continue voyaging
      the traveller has to keep moving with his luggage
          through the train
         until he gains the first coach

Once the passage has been realized
       the passenger may proceed to exit
        the instantaneous train
         which has remained stationary
          during the entire voyage.

•	Observation: This type of (direct) train serves only the uni-directional journey.

Source: Poem read by Nicanor Parra as invitee to the International Poetry Festival in the Netherands in 1989 (?)

© T. Wignesan – Paris,  2016
© T Wignesan  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: nominated, allegory, extended metaphor, imagination,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member My Two Cents Regarding This Election Year

Here we go again bein' charmed by every political buffoon,

Promisin' each of us ever'thing, the sun, the stars, the moon!

Looks like Trump and Clinton will be nominated fer the election.

Lord, have mercy on this nation!  Ain't very much of a selection!

One who has a proclivity fer flauntin' the truth now and again!

The other who thinks foreign policy is negotiatin' fer hotels in Kazakstan!

One who doesn't know what he's doin' and the other who thinks she does.

I fer one am gettin' very weary of hearin' all their inane buzz!

Oh, that it would be possible to resurrect Reagan as was Lazarus,

To rekindle patriotism and decency in this nation for each of us!



Entry for CT's "Political Ordeal" Contest
Categories: nominated, humorous, political,
Form: Rhyme
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