Best Not Due Poems
I filled my heart with music of the moon
thus pulled it close about me like a wrap
my tympans gently trembled with a tune
I held my breath of starlight
and danced upon the dune
a-scratching in the sand, a manic map
I plunged into a pool of passions, pure
to swim the depths in vigor and delight
each wake of wonder, sensual and sure
a dream to deftly drown in
of damsel craves, demure
amid the dark abyssal brine of night
I bargained with a god upon the peaks
to walk abreast the clouds, as if the sea
and plumb for souls as deity so seeks
yet all the nets pulled empty
come barren, silence speaks
not due an effort, worship or decree
I stained a cloak of love with dim neglect
but painted my remorse upon the skies
so each new blushing morn would so reflect
how beautiful the earth was
through nature's grand affect
to grace even the least beholden eyes …
and leave each heart, as mine ...
to heaven's guise.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Strand Select 10, Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 10th Place ~ in the "My Heart Is Full" Poetry Contest, Cindi Rockwell, Judge & Sponsor.
Categories:
not due, analogy, dream, fantasy, heaven,
Form:
Rhyme
Our dog is relaxing for the first time in almost eighteen hours.
The interloper is finally gone.
She is so relieved; I have never heard her sigh this deeply and we have had her for seven years.
Yes, I am referring to the bulldog-pit bull mix puppy that has held us hostage and consumed
Our every waking thought for almost two days.
A heartless person kicked this puppy out onto our road on Thursday.
On Friday animal control said they would come and get her; but they did not come.
This dog, through no fault of her own, was dumped in the evening on a dark, desolate country road.
My road.
Featured once in a Kansas City magazine with this caption:
Donohoo Road, the most desolate road in Kansas City.
Nice huh?
Our porch is a war zone. This poor puppy that we tried to bring inside, but
Could not due to its adverse behavior toward our dog, and our dog’s incessant barking
Had to be outside for two nights.
Last night it rained all night.
Luckily, this strange little puppy commandeered the outside cat’s cozy bed.
Shark, the displaced cat slept in the garage’s first bay on a hard concreted floor, and was mad all night.
Did I say the porch is a war zone? Everything we left out there is in shreds – snow scraper, shoe,
Boot, gardening glove. This puppy somehow managed to chew an entire tennis ball down to a little
Pink center.
We are all so relieved it is gone.
My husband took it to the Humane Shelter and gave them a large donation for keeping it as they
Originally said they did not have room. When he told them the amount of our donation, they made room.
He said a lady picked up the puppy, and the puppy snuggled into her neck, and she will be warm tonight.
I hate animal-dumpers.
Categories:
not due, pets,
Form:
Free verse
Written: February 15, 2024
______________________________________
I ultimately rule over these stunning valleys,
Elm trees with mossy brows line the alleys.
Where distant peaks arise, calm and azure,
Akin to the strong tripods used for rapture.
Who can't view river stones as viable paths?
A scad of scramblers on spurs stoning laths.
To slay fair faces, who bartered leaden blasts,
And weapons because of their leopard casts.
Who inflicted lasting wounds upon the land,
Those who pursued the avian crowns stand.
Fetched to flatten fascinating flesh but failed,
Who still flies above "fallen Tomahawk," veiled?
From my awakened gaze, I view a world,
Across eyes that bear a black shade furled.
A confined space, restricted and stretched out,
Then I cast a velvety gaze over a dumb doubt.
In a shadowed visage, this is how I mumble,
These walls, built by oppression, must crumble.
I must quit as I gaze upon my unique form,
Through opened eyes, no longer blind corm.
And behold, my unique hands create,
The space exists within my mind spate.
Nonviolent activists avoid causing friction,
Path for discovery, not building any tension.
Yield your tension a flight and let it depart,
God will never strain you over skills to impart.
Stress is only a reaction, probe not to worry,
Oddness from bodies and beliefs is blurry.
Not all stress stems from having a lot to do,
It originates from a lack of follow-through.
The potential increases with increasing strain,
Growth comes with a sense of life's innate pain.
I'm feeling hollow, not due to any sorrow,
Yet, in a sense of relief, each knot fades hollow.
The most crucial factor in ensuring lifespan,
Is staying clear of tension, worry, and strain.
Life is not a rising conflict or a stressful scene,
Life ought not to be painful; it may be serene.
It's habits that induce tension and relaxation,
Cutting rituals and building useful tension.
Categories:
not due, analogy, anger, mystery, time,
Form:
Rhyme
You are one of the reasons
Why they inflate their quote
If you had seized the seasons
Good men could have had your vote
You are one of the reasons
Why our sweet land has gone sour in waste
Here is one of your multiple treasons
You aid corruption just to suit your taste
You are one of the reasons we wedge weighty wrath
Bombs daily detonate like fickle fireworks far north
You decided to do nothing but shut your mouth
So they took our weary sail south
You are one of the reasons the land is inflicted with rape
Overflowing in abundance yet you mong like a greedy ape
Alas our land is grey and old but not due
And it hurts me to know that I am also you.
Categories:
not due, black african american, caregiving,
Form:
Concrete
My Gramar is so pour, I bearly past the class
Words I did not no, because Imma nass
Sometimes late at knight, with a candle burning brite
A book report is dew,assignment : right about ewe
This I can not due, though I try with all my mite
Author's Note: I am at the Library and my thyme is almost up
I will rite part too tomorrow
Categories:
not due, confusion, education, imagination, school,
Form:
Rhyme
When the day dwindles pale...with my tall mug of ale
I'm a weepy ole' fool , it is quite plain to see
I'll shed many a tear ore' the wee smallest thing
I am known to spill oceans, with a tall chug-a-lug
There'll be tubs splashing tears, all over your head!
For,.......... I love my old mates and I'm lovin' my brew
I have a dilemma, it's the bluest of blues
but I can't decide which I'm holdin' more dear
a fine league of shipmates or my lagers of beer
I moon over moonlight shining over the sill
While I drink with my matey, who is over the hill
O', ......he'll tell me a story of his granny who's ill
And my eyes will start wellin' and a river will spill!
For,.......... I love my old mates and I'm lovin' my brew
I have a dilemma, it's the bluest of blues
but I can't decide which I'm holdin' more dear
a fine league of shipmates or my lagers of beer
There is lint in my eye over sharing goodbyes
I'll lament just a bit over missing Ma's pies
When a goat has been bitten by a snake that is long
I will leak like a bucket ..for a world that's gone wrong
If I must kick the bucket, so what if I do?
And if there's a heaven and the devil's not due
You'll know for sure I have a smile upon my face
from seeing my shipmates and from drinkin' my brew!
For,.......... I love my old mates and I'm lovin' my brew
I have a dilemma, it's the bluest of blues
but I can't decide which I'm holdin' more dear
a fine league of shipmates or my lagers of beer !!
_______________________________________________
For Cyndi's "Raise the Roof Pub Song" Contest
Categories:
not due, music,
Form:
Lyric
You can never go home
You’ve heard the phrase
But take my advice
It might number your days.
Take a lesson from me
For I’ve learned it well
My so-called aunt
Is a demon from hell.
To say that she is family
Is a stretch I won’t make
She’ll beg you to stay,
Then swear that you take.
The stuff that she hides
During a paranoid rage
She’s been a "" all her life
It’s not due to her age
My mom couldn’t stand her
Which I thought was odd
Until just this year
When my hometown I trod
I stayed at her house
Mind you, at her request
For no one would help her
As a result, she was stressed
So, help her, we did
As much as we could
Thinking that we were
Doing some good
When all of the sudden
Long after we left
She called the police with
Complaints, threats, & theft
I, in a panic,
Called someone I knew
Claiming my innocence
Asking what should I do
They advised me to call
Someone in charge
So APS services
In her house they did charge
They found what was missing
And have since cleared my name
But, as a result,
I’m just not the same
Now a cynical
So much like my mom
I have no desire
To claim where I’m from
So hear me now
And hear me well
Family like that
Can rot in hell!
Categories:
not due, anger, family, hate, hurt,
Form:
Rhyme
ROAD CARNAGE
It was on early Monday, when a car ran into a truck,
It ran into a stationery truck, and they had no luck,
It was a ghastly accident, the four died on spot,
“They all died drunk,” said the report.
The Monday incident, was still fresh in our minds,
When on Tuesday noon, a new one got into our minds,
There was a collision, eight injured, six died on spot,
“The driver was overtaking on a bend,” said the report.
The Tuesday incident, was not yet forgotten,
When on Wednesday evening, another one claimed ten,
It had lost control, downhill it rolled, and all died on spot,
“ It was over -speeding,” said the report.
It was a black Thursday, one to be remembered,
The kids were relaxed, who knew they were endangered?
The truck ran into their van, twelve innocent souls lost on spot!
“The truck’s breaking system had failed,” said the report.
Friday came in, and left not without a soul,
A pedestrian lost his soul,
He had looked left and right, then met his death on spot,
“Why had he avoided the fly over?” Questioned the report.
Saturday was here, it had rained heavily,
Bridges were swept away, and others wrecked badly,
A lorry was carried away, and three lost on spot,
“He was driving across the flooded road,” said the report.
It was Sunday afternoon, when a car hit an electric pole,
All wondered,” he just drove into a stationery pole!”
Two broke their spinal cord, one died on spot,
“A cell-phone was in the driver’s hand,” said the report.
Every moment of each day, a life is lost,
Before we recover, another soul is lost,
Not due to the state of our poor roads,
But due to the poor state of our heads.
Categories:
not due, bereavement,
Form:
Free verse
The Search to Find the Edge of the Ice
They say moss doesn't gather on a stone rolling, in motion,
And even wise algae gets left in the wake,
Of a proud ship, foresail dipped, rising upon an ocean,
Yet what of the movement of cold, blued, polar ice,
Where humanity has no known device,
That can truly assess each crevasse like a human eye,
Not wafting past, digitising from way up high,
But the eye picking out subtle changes,
The sense of touch, of feeling crumbling, matters much,
And no satellite can be quite right as the human nose,
Smelling fauna, or the stench of rotting, dead plants or fish,
For ice recedes its movement gathers stones,
But it reveals things, that satellites alone,
Can never bring to assess, without assumption in that process,
And so a legend of arctic exploration abandons long treks,
Or climbing mountains, and not due to getting older,
Indeed using boats for a landlubber is getting bolder,
Taking stock of the after shock,
The Northwest passage laid out, like a virgin on a wedding night,
Internally sobbing for the state our world is in,
For there was no ice, not even enough for a consoling gin,
The long march of humanity's future discontent,
Requires assessment, a global response to a new war cry,
Come Europe, Come China, Come India, Come America,
Come hear the cry of the Canadian northwest,
Of the fears of Greenland becoming a new forest,
Come Australasia, Russia too, come all countries, much to do,
For we must rise to assess the circumstance of the ice regress,
To prevent surprise, loss of our world's bequest,
And pushing forward the advance guard of this new challenge,
Is Sir David's team, the polar ocean phalanx,
Not sat around at home in comfy armchairs,
But doing something, going somewhere, to show we care,
Seeking to find and monitor and report back,
Crucial knowledge that currently we lack,
For how can we plan to avoid our worlds future sorrows,
If we do not make an effort to find out for our tomorrow,
Where exactly is the edge of the ice, which today no device,
Can show in a way that all of human kind can know,
Does the ice recede or simply ebb and flow,
Stand up, man up, pay up, support them,
Lets see them depart and sail,
To find this century’s holy grail,
The search to find ‘The Edge of the Ice’.
@Andrew Carnegie, Challenged in Wiltshire, Jan 12th 2017.
Categories:
not due, adventure, courage, encouraging, environment,
Form:
Free verse
Payments on my credit card and rent are always due.
Power, water, gas, and those horrendous phone bills too.
Borrowed books I’ve not yet read soon are coming due.
Maybe I can find some time to read them in the loo.
Also it’s that time of year when all of us are due
for a visit to a store with cheap shots for the flu!
My mammograms and dental visits are LONG overdue.
I cannot afford them yet. What’s a girl to do?
And Mr. Doctor, why must I wait so long just for you?
I think some respect for me, your patient, sure is due!
Thinking of the money from my savings I withdrew
just to make it through this year has really made me blue.
Gee, if I could have one wish and have that wish come true,
I would wish to live my life as one big well-to-do!
But there’s one thing that’s NOT due for which I need not stew.
Thank goodness that I’m too old now to have a baby due!
For Paula Swanson's
How Due You Dew Poetry Contest
Categories:
not due, funny, time,
Form:
Monorhyme
Our planet is weeping, and faith is at low and vacillate.
A severe risk as a result of the global warming challenge
Concerns have arisen as an outcome of a wavering climate.
It is not due to hairspray or baby oil; it's our fate.
Rapidly melting Arctic glaciers are causing damage.
Our planet is weeping, and faith is at low and vacillate.
Carbon from fossil fuels is the major emission element.
A ferocious shockwave of metabolic blaze stage.
Concerns have arisen as an outcome of a wavering climate.
Concerns around the ozone hole depletion sprout.
Sea level is rising due to melting ice and warmer plage.
Our planet is weeping, and faith is at low and vacillate.
War and turmoil look trivial compared to climate.
Despite that our kids are at risk, newly threats emerge.
Concerns have arisen as an outcome of a wavering climate.
To allow plant life to thrive, we need to alter our zest.
Retain the air safe and car-free with zero carbon discharge.
Our planet is weeping, and faith is at low and vacillate.
Concerns have arisen as an outcome of a wavering climate.
Written April 20, 2021
A MAJOR WORLD PROBLEM Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: L MILTON HANKINS
Categories:
not due, adventure, allusion, angst, animal,
Form:
Villanelle
When Truly, Deeply Lost And One Has Faith One Is About To Die
Alone and defiant I stood staring into death's icy face
On a knife thin ledge, slippery on a high cliff's so out of place
Panic stricken daring to pray for courage and hopeful saving out
At that very moment death spoke with its hideously wicked shout
Screaming, " You will die, I have you in my cold iron clutches now
I see you pray for divine help, even that field you cannot plow
Do recall in wicked nightmares how I gave you such deadly blows
Yes, sweat all the more and crying out for help, let your dark fear grow!
When truly, deeply lost and one has faith one is about to die.
Pray for mercy, pray for life, speak to that golden throne in the sky.
In my wild youth, I must have retold this story a thousand times
Some called me a liar, others said a poet with his rhymes
Yet as sure as Heaven its sweet promise vow of salvation gives
I survived, that gifted miracle proves this now old poet lives
Perhaps one future day I shall write the story of my rescue
How by faith I was given a new life and one I was not due
If ever so, this my testimony would assuredly awe and shock
Know this, death once had me in its unrelenting hard icy lock!
When truly, deeply lost and one has faith one is about to die.
Pray for mercy, pray for life, speak to that golden throne in the sky.
Robert J. Lindley, 12-14-2021
Rhyme
Note:
Composed this afternoon.
Categories:
not due, art, death, faith, heaven,
Form:
Rhyme
The Boss Up in His Tower
By Franklin Price
12/8/2016
The boss up in his tower, and the worker down below
Had somehow disconnected, how it happened who's to know
Been together since conception of the business and the plan
Each one knew the job to do, both the worker and the man
The years went by, the profits grew, the way was bright and clear
The worker was dependable; worked hard from year to year
The boss became an egotist, puffed out his chest with glee,
” Look at me, without me, where would the worker be?”
It was he who had succeeded, all the profits were his own,
He moved into a mansion as the company had grown.
Drove expensive autos. vacationed foreign lands
The worker ran the business, exceeding all demands
The worker fed his family, paid utilities and tax,
Often went to Goodwill for the clothes upon their backs
The car he drove was ten years old, and always breaking down,
Barely got the kids to school, wife to discount stores in town.
For vacations to a foreign land there was no hope at all
Unless the money gambled, won the elusive power ball
So the worker kept on working, just to barely pay the rent
At Christmas time a gift certificate, for a turkey, he was sent.
The worker finally had enough and went out on his own
His wife and children helped him, by answering the phone.
He worked hard to develop a better life for him
Soon hired his own workers, paid a living wage to them
The worker kept succeeding; knew all not due to him.
Each person, that he hired, was a loyal working gem.
His policy was sharing all the profits to appear.
His workers could pay all their bills and take vacations every year.
The worker was not stupid; knew some hires just got by
Would barely get their jobs done, did not really want to try
Took off every chance they got, did not work so well for him
Did not deserve the profit sharing and, with warnings, fired them.
The boss that he had left behind saw the error of his ways
He had not done it all himself, being greedy never pays.
Customers bought from the worker, for the quality was there.
The boss lost most his business, he had no one left to care.
Categories:
not due, business,
Form:
Rhyme
Baby, when u left in 1982
My heart felt empty and few
I searched far and deep
I lack good manner of sleep
When I did find you
I felt joy’s Triumphant to be next to you
But the time was not due
For you were involved, not true?
I bowed my head and flew
Never giving up on my love for you
My heart felt-faith was always new
We met sporadically during the years
I relate and showed you all my cares
But yet the time was not right
With the divine bringing together of our being
But you finally and humbly accept my feelings
And asked me to marry you…
My love for you baby is eternal and true
Baby, yes, I will marry you.
©Copyright August 2007 by Brian Pierre-Alexander
© All Rights Reserved
Categories:
not due, lost love, love, wedding,
Form:
Free verse
I am applying for the consultant position
of Office Manager for which I will audition.
I am undeniably qualified to deal with nitwits
and idiots I will immediately classify as 'twits.'
My solution to deal with those people is fair
It may not be righteous, but I don't care.
If your company is greedy to make money,
it's ok with me. Just give me my check, honey.
I don't browbeat employees with a big stick
when they come in late or say they're sick
I'll crack the whip on any numbskull at work
and there's one less lazy fool I'll call a jerk.
If you think my method is severe over kill,
you're right, because I don't show good will
to jackasses who keep making me mutter
words you would only hear in a street gutter.
I'll get control and do what needs to be done
and I promise I'll try not to pull out a real gun.
I'll need some handcuffs and maybe a jail cell.
Give me free rein and everything will be swell.
My resume' experience speaks for itself.
Once, I've even fired an Elf on the Shelf
I did it without a good reason or just cause
so you can waiver that harrassment clause.
You can hire me now for a trial run.
Keep me on or fire me, but I'm the one
you need to give brainless creatures the boot...
not due to my work ethic, cuz I don't give a hoot.
Categories:
not due, business,
Form:
Rhyme