Best Only Serves Poems
Worry eats your energy and robs your peace of mind
It brings about anxiety so you cannot unwind
It takes away your happiness, it steals away your joy
And left unchecked eventually your health it will destroy
So learn to stop the worry as it only serves you harm
And make the time to meditate to find your inner calm
For your mind is the driving force in how you will progress
And so that inner chatter is the thing you must address
Your thoughts can either set you free or keep you chained in fear
So take back all your power and make worry disappear
You may think me mad for saying this, but I know this to be true for sure.
If we are truly to evolve into a higher specie, money must go the way of the dinosaur.
What should motivate us all is higher morality
and not the pursuit of gain monetarily,
which only serves to cultivate greed ultimately.
Greed then goes on to pursue power eventually,
and absolute power corrupts absolutely.
What's the solution? I don't know my friend truly,
but I believe that People Helping People is the key.
All People Helping People Universally
will be at the heart of our newly evolved spiritual currency.
A forehead wrinkles
at the pounding of water from the sky
It kind of wishes that
it could d
r
o
w
n out
thoughts and feelings
but it only serves
to m a g n i f y them
background droll music
to an overthinker's mundane life
a fold here,
a crease there
origami wings
that are limp,
drenched
looking pretty lonely and pathetic
under, that, crying, sky, , , ,
, , , ,
"Instead of expressing exasperation, think toleration."
~ by poet
I find that I've become impatient with people who seem dense
and it only serves to frustrate me with an ire too often intense.
Sometimes, under my breath, I hear the words I'm mumbling,
"Why can't you understand this?" Then, I realize I'm grumbling.
I'm just a lowly human without a trace of Divinity to be found
so, I should be more humble, for I've not been royally crowned.
"Be tolerant," my heart whispers to my soul, as if it could hear.
"And be mindful," it said to my tongue, "words can bring tears."
I really should listen with more compassion and less askance.
I've no right to judge others. I don't know their life's circumstance.
Swallowing harsh words is a taste I should learn to find sweet
and conquer the bitterness of retorts... intolerance then I'd defeat.
People are not chess pawns that I can push around on a board,
and leniency should be allowed them across every stream I ford.
I don't control who walks the bridge with opinions of their own.
It's their right to have them, even if they're ones I don't condone.
I'll pursue being more tolerant of others and give them respect
and be sincerely diligent about this as a goal I should not neglect.
Where in the night sky would I seek
to find the daughter of love,
while Phobos rounds Mars close cheek
tho' Deimos breaches slower above.
Never wanted to be less than whole
lost in a soldier's conquered dreams,
like fine wine alas asked to taste all,
love's sweet draught in moonbeams.
Never harbor a jealous heart
only serves to fulfill it's own needs..
to poison love's lasting waters,
and steal away bright moonbeams.
Laugh at all life's fortunes won
those red rosey skies full a sun..
yet all evenings lost it seems..
in moonbeams,
bright moonbeams,
oh, those
moonbeams.
History must be cherished, and artifacts revered even if they come from a time that is not pretty. Destroying historical statues, artifacts and literature does nothing to erase the fact that it happened. There will always be those who remember whether the statue stands erect or crumbled in a pile of rubble on the ground. The act of physically destroying historical artifacts and documents only serves to anger those who would prefer to remember where they came from and how much progress has been made from a time they might just as soon forget. As one who chooses to condemn criminal behavior I am angered at the destruction of history. No history is pretty. All history contains much ugliness and violence. Just read the Bible, a book about Hitler, or any historical book from a time long ago. Historical culture is valuable. We must materially remember the past and where we came from or history will repeat itself. We too soon forget how bad it was, and the same ideas will creep back into existence and occur again if not kept in check. No, history is not pretty, but it must be remembered.
The Chance to Love You All Over Again
A romance so intense was a gift I received, once so consuming and hard to believe
memories cherished from a hand I long to hold, my ambitions and dreams forbidden to be sold
my trust in you always is the promise that we share, you deserve to have the best of me and know I will always be there
Do we all find love, is this what we are supposed to do?
is it love that we are ultimately searching for, hold your breath if you feel you have too.
the promise of love is a gift of life, to have it once is your first breath, but to keep it is the sacrifice
Treat it with the greatest care and never see it as a chore, or it will leave you alone heartbroken of that you can be sure
to know what you have is to know what could be lost but if it is gone it is too high a cost
respect what you have when it is right by your side, because looking back only serves you to know the pain of a lost love that is impossible to hide
I loved a heart once and stumbled from the path, driven into the woods over time yet it happened so fast
Unable to recognize when the emotions grew old but so aware of my loss as I hide in the cold
I shiver in the darkness in the place it all began, and hope I have the chance to love you again
there is no pain as bad as love's own death
when gone is the euphoric ecstasy
when joy of torrid love exhaled in breath
becomes the silent hum of constancy
no requiem so mournful can be heard
than that of passion, harnessed by mundane
when heart and spirit know love's been deferred
to someone in the wings who's not as plain
In quiet stillness, tears no solace bring
the memory of the past as tyrant reigns
and kiss, half-hearted, only serves to sting
what once was deemed caresses, now are stains
No other pain can pierce a lover's heart
than knowing soon the loved one will depart
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Before it's final breath has gone above
One needs to find the will to fight for love
Remember times that made the heart to beat
what made the eyes to drink in and devour
to reignite what once brought searing heat
exposing love to resurrection power
speak words of affirmation, words of praise
do not allow the wayward glance to pain
hold on to what was good, the best of days
and free the wounded pride from rusted chain
show once again to lover, wholesome grace
forgive the hurt and adoration give
then lavish all your love, leave not a trace
and see how dying love will bloom and live
Eileen Manassian
I love rhyming and I love sonnets. I'm thinking of making a new form...the inverted sonnet. I think it's pretty simple what I've done. What do you think?
Let me begin by declaring
a well known cliche:
our skin does not define us,
nor does our place of birth
define our worth.
And yet we are scattered
across the globe,
sometimes whole oceans,
separating us.
We see countless borders
that man has made
serving the purpose
of temporal order.
And what a fickle creature
is this race of Man.
With flags speared into the sand,
time and time again.
You wonder what it's all coming too,
to what possible end?
Taking ganders at the past,
looksies at the ancient,
never hurt a soul.
If we don't know the origins
how can we hope to devise a goal?
Some say these lines in the sand
divide us so - but is this true?
Does it not show respect for your fellow man:
your way is not my own,
but, please, if you will,
let me share my truth
and you do the same.
I believe in the Sovereignty of Nations,
the Allegiance of mini-Kingdoms.
I believe that Charity, however well spun, with the best of intentions,
cannot be coerced with sticks and stones,
that archaic method - it must be written on our hearts,
on our very souls. Not in the Manuscripts of Man
will you find such power as the one pumping in our veins.
To Salvation's Sky, to our Savior's Loving Stare,
Rules and Regulations will never take us there.
Legislated Robbery does not compassion make,
for it only serves to pin
Neighbor against Neighbor,
Gender against Gender.
How can human freedom be so readily forsaken
with the perilous pens of other fallible men?
We are One People,
One Race, flying the
banner of peace and love.
No one desires war,
no one willingly
looks for discord.
And yet here we are:
fighting battles
that none can afford.
The chaos of the earth
is the collective reflection
of the Human Heart.
If you want change to occur
that's a fine place to start.
NOTE: I like to think of myself as a hardcore libertarian with a strong moral fiber. I don't always agree with the absurd antics of others, but recognize that people have a right to make their own bad decisions.
We fit now; we complete one another.
Our lives have melted into one
and we dissolve into the unity
which consolidates our synthesis.
We fit now; we complement one another.
Our differences unite us. Our individuality
only serves to combine our commonality;
our separateness compounds our pairing.
We fit now you and I. Sharing the same path;
Sometimes together, sometimes apart.
We deviate and divide, only to combine again
when occupational distraction is done.
We are comfortable and contented.
There is no division in description;
we are affiliated in partnership,
blended, amalgamated, in simpatico.
Our bodies merge in the conformity of belonging.
The longing dovetails our diversity and unites us.
We have emerged from the swirl of separation
as one and I love you. We fit now.
Am I No Longer Desirable to You? By Robert Denton (November 2014)
Am I no longer desirable to you?
I don't even desire myself.
Angered by bodily dilapidation
That has nothing to do with aging.
I don't even desire myself
The way I am broken.
That has nothing to do with aging.
Immeasurable frustration and incessant reminders.
The way I am broken
Slithers like evil incarnate, trapped by
Immeasurable frustration and incessant reminders.
So I am left alone in a void.
Slithers like evil incarnate, trapped by
Social restrictions on love
So I am left alone in a void.
Where even masturbation is elusive.
Social restrictions on love
Only dehumanize and objectify.
Where even masturbation is elusive
So the lonely must die.
Only dehumanize and objectify
When you are a deceiver.
So the lonely must die
Having been tortured and whipped.
When you are a deceiver
You exploit the misery of others.
Having been tortured and whipped
You control the mainstream media.
You exploit the misery of others
Trying to avoid the grip of accountability.
You control the mainstream media
Like some kind of psychopathic demon.
Trying to avoid the grip of accountability
Only serves to alienate and damage,
Like some kind of psychopathic demon.
Am I no longer desirable to you?
I have wandered into a human stew of inopportunity, as my marriage/love/parental life have all come to an abrupt closure, noncompliance and final withdrawal from any real meaning. Am I dead yet? Not necessarily, but it seems that entity is not so remotely absent from my thoughts, as it once was given the supposed social tenure of our powers to control our nature, so now it seems "stupid" to even begin to engage a strategy, plan, answer to reclaim that "Lost Horizon" that will put me, us back into a Nirvanal state of eloquent bliss so aptly stated in the substantive, ****, vows we still take when we engage, marry, obligate, consumate, consecrate, and you know the rest. Grandchildren as quickly as possible. Forget the "Happy Couple" and all of their existance desires/wants/needs. Thank u socialization/domestication for ruining the fertile pastures of real love and affection. Feed the economy, we need workers/bosses, CEO's, sell, buy everything, produce, produce and produce. Keep us ever informed with all the trinkets which keep us isloated, unemotional and spur inhumanity to all that terse that tricky transient torment of T-U-V-W-X-Y-Z bytes, or in whatever compuscale u eat, that only serves to further the noncommunication life of our species. I only exist within myself in this space. Are my thoughts my own or just a reflection of what I receive? Do I exist? When I answer, am I being true or is it a stated recording of past sequences that are familiar in a patterened sense of my former being? My salience, remorse, continued presence upon this Earth is at best questionable? Meaningless? For me, the current standards of being have become to contentious; the stupidity, too overwhelming; the ignorance, too unbearable; the incompetence/divisiveness/poor judgement/antiquated/uneducated thinking/acting/feeling, our illustrious president, his supporters, henchmen, cronies, nepotism, DFA and their anything-but-a proactive approach to problem solving for the benefit of us all, leaves me in a lackluster quandry of whether, "To Be Or Not To Be? Believe me baby, that is MY question! My God, and I am not a religious person, but in the fin al analysis, you will reap what you sow!!!!!!!!! And I will laugh. I like "mushrooms" with my atomic grilled steak. No waiting.
It takes many types,
and rigorous flights,
simple minds and treacherous vine’s-
we lace our faces with our finds,
we trace our space’s with their intellectual minds-
but cigarettes burn and drinks overturn,
and yet we never see things the way they should skoot,
we all have opinions that we’d like to remove-
a savior once said to shut up and groove,
so I do one move at a time,
one move at a time-
forget to rewind,
forget to unwind,
because buildings take up my mind,
cities intertwine like a mathematical puzzle that only serves the blind.
Dear Diary
I know because I have been forewarned
That when my name is brought up
and I am mentioned and
referenced in certain other people's
company
Some people choose to refer to me as
isn't he funny but not meant as or
to be complimentary
But rather as they think I am joke and
meant to be a poke
Which only serves to prove to me I
am exactly where I am supposed to
and wish to be
Because if they spoke of me or held
me in high regard or thought we held
similar opinions or points of view
Then I fear I would have to take a
long hard look at myself and revaluate
who I think and believe I am
The type of person who much prefer
to gossip about other people when
they are soundly out of earshot behind
their back's
Who wouldn't dare spout anything but
praise if standing right in front of them
whilst simultaneously avoiding all forms
of eye contact just incase they see the
white's or color of their eyes
So Dear Diary please promise me that
you will never to constantly remind me
every time I decide to make a fresh entry
To remind me that life is not a popularity
contest based solely upon good looks an
alarming lack of intelligence or morals
and character
But rather being able to look oneself
in the eye and being able to sleep at night
So gladly please feel free to poke away
and think of me as joke it's merely
water off a duck's back to me
And ditto same , same here , here right
back at you
I think you're funnier than I am or could
ever be difference being
I am actually trying to be which
is ironic because sadly you aren't
P- pernicious injustice,
terrorism perseverance and
E- ethnical intolerance
A- are in no way the
solution to the
C- continual and
persistence global,
E- economical incongruity!
This
O- only serves as means to
terminate the tranquil
N- nature of our global co-
existence!
E- living soul needs to
embrace one
A- another and also respect
one another in views, ways
and in our personal
R- religious beliefs.
T- this is a sip from the sea
of ways by which,
H- homo-sapiens could live
ever after in amity!