Best Overrules Poems
Nation’s Damnable Blight
Black slender man, bent twig on the branch of a slave’s family tree,
Planted in white culture during infamous time of our history,
From seed transported in the belly of those infernal slave ships.
Bitter tears flowing from his eyes; angry words pouring from his lips.
Spent by long days in fields under hot skies of one hundred degrees,
Living in substandard shacks: wife and babes bearing winter’s freeze.
Broken panes breach for frigid wind; shabby roofs sieve for cold raindrops,
Family worked from sun up to dark to reap the precious crop.
Truth is, most were prisoners of the system evil men devised.
Many struggling to be free from what politicians camouflaged.
Wisdom overrules such folly and the proverb is most profound;
Holding one down makes holder as much a captive as one held down.
This nation, “land of the brave and free”, held out freedom’s lamp to all,
Went out one ominous night and over “liberty’s lamp” threw a pall.
Had wiser men with hearts of love been ruled by God’s Divine Light,
Black and white would have been spared this great nation’s damnable blight.
Eventide is filled with the smile of stars - mother overrules them all.
5/13/2018
Night bewitches; romance can reign
when shadows fall and you then see
the light of day begin to wane.
Alone with your love you can be.
Stars flicker and in glow of moon,
night bewitches; romance can reign.
Many hearts in the darkness swoon
when passion overrules the brain.
Nocturnal creatures entertain
with nature’s sounds as sun goes down.
Night bewitches; romance can reign.
In love’s allure it’s sweet to drown.
At eventide, it’s time to live!
To your darling on lover’s lane
caresses and sweet kisses give.
Night bewitches; romance can reign.
L- Love
O- Overrules
V- Virtually
E- Everything
I am inspired by a contest theme to write a poem
The muse becomes a secondary thing.
Even if the muse is inspired,
and I try to scribe something
on a theme of my choice,
the contest themes overrules my mind.
As a result, my mind tries to search on the themes
About to reach Denmark, I reach Norway.
and then; syllable counts, iambic meter
number of words per line, number of lines
and then the instructions of the sponsors;
I would specifically love this and that,
I am very strict about this and that
don’t write your name, write your name.
After spending hours for a poem
If I forget to comply to any of the rules
my love’s labor is partially lost
but certainly not miscarried.
As I feel dejected and rejected for a while
I feel happy, very happy thanks to the contest
that one more poem is added to my collection.
The same poem I use it for another contest.
Lo! The poem is a winner.
December 30, 2014
Form: Free Verse
A kestrel dips into an updraft
thinking he knows the world
tranquility gurgles
through silent valleys
over mountains
around the earth
refracted
through the wind
The creature soars ever higher
in great swoops and dives
the horizon curves as it eludes vision
the stars pulse their siren
but thrill denies
adrenaline overrules
their ambient warning
Gust to gust each fades
quicker than the last
whispers carry the weight of wings
and their soulful song breaches sanity
prayers of rightful good
where petty purple banners
crest twinkling hearts
The last thermal ridden
last lyric dies
as flight’s drone fades
upturned wings alone
the sky empty oblivion
as the sun aligns its beady eye
to the looping path of the bird
Two brittle forms
grapple in light
which blots out the senses
and protects
what can never be touched
divine oblivion
smites the naive bird
an archangel buried
in a crypt
six feet deep.
THE ENEMY WITHIN
She’s in there arguing with my affirmations.
She's sabotaging my dreams.
She kicks my best decisions in the derriere.
She confuses my left brain, my god brain,
And she encourages the repetitive behavior
That never worked in the past;
She overrules the changes made by my spirit mind.
She never allows the cognition, of sane
Behavior to take the reins. She reassures me that I am fine.
She has redirected my thoughts so that concentration,
And gumption never sees eye, to eye.
Then she exercises and builds up her strength,
As I do nothing.
She loves me and comforts me
Whenever I am lethargic, and she tells me
The best thing to do is nothing.
Whenever I manage to call in the troops of my adrenalin,
She conquers them with fear. She provides the lie that
My one voice is never going to be enough.
and tells me I will never be heard, and that
I will never be the mercenary of change so I relent.
I give in to the enemy within.
The only antidote I know is to tell my friends,
And they who stand with me can chant and pray...
And purge her from my system.
“Will you point the way”-
Will you please help me.?
Help me, to fight injustice,
Help me to restore integrity?
Help me to say no poverty.
Help me to defy authority.
Lend me a hand
As a poet and a friend,
Help to end the rule of this enemy
That dwells within.
I will be stronger if you do.
I am out of wit, only you can replace it.
If I run out of time – Only you can carry on;
If I run out of love, can you give me some?
I am out of ammunition,
And I cannot fight the world alone.
I cannot ask God before asking my kindred beings.
God will ask me why I passed up my fellow man,
To get to him.
My prayer is to be replenished.
What God has started; He will surely finish.
But he needs me to ask you for help as my friends,
To demolish this enemy that dwells within.
When I am stronger you can lean on me again,
Together, we 'll claim the victory,
Over this ill-advised enemy... That lives within me.
note: St. Jude is the patron saint of hopeless causes
Didja ever feel like a summer snowman?
Out of luck, living on borrowed time,
constructed from leftovers sentimentally
stored, given birth because Mom decided
to clean out the freezer.
And so, into existence, doomed from the start;
a pointless life lived for the amusement
of others, spent wearing black after Memorial Day
and wool in July, mouthing prayers to St Jude even
as the good saint's boss overrules and the
sun moves into position overhead.
FINGERS
An ultimate reach to the tips of desire,
That heavenly touch
Overrules the mind, sets afire
Salesman, preacher, teacher,
All circle, point, sign,
Being quite unconscious of their design
Fingers may travel a path of their own,
Having shape, body, joints,
Purpose down to the bone
And when all that’s left is final reflex,
Warmth, carnal knowledge gone,
The very tips will bid adieu before one moves along
Dave Austin
Like the Vikings who left us this word – ‘berserk’
some of us may have shown it through human reaction,
where we go berserk against disproportionate behaviors
such anger or infuriation that defines the immediate actions.
It’s still very human to act in this way with sudden eruption,
when inner anger overrules and makes us manifest towards others;
a strong element that fuels harsh words and outrage within,
oh, what a state of mind! so capable to influence us in many ways.
But Jesus Christ’s experience when confronted with torture,
suffering, crucifixion and eventually death in his heroic way;
his courage and humility which are worth mentioning here.
truly, a sublime reaction against those pains and persecutions.
He becomes human who copes with greater risks and pains,
identified not as a historical Jesus of natural stoicism;
with his real grasp of what his destiny may entail along the process,
his only response – to embrace the cross which means so much for us.
On Good Friday reminds us of his passion and crucifixion,
being betrayed, denied and left alone in humiliation;
in darkness and dread, in sorrow and bereavement,
he remains true to his mission and love for all the people.
His lonely agony in the garden of Gethsemane,
touches us so profoundly as he awaits for his destiny;
here is his obedience to the Father whom he prays to,
one with him, distinct in person, one in the Trinity.
Courage or bravery is worth remembering here,
it’s born out of a vision that comprises his self-giving;
that knows no fear but is moved with deep reflection,
all for otherness, all for humanity, all because of his love for people.
In today’s world where we’re constantly tempted with selfishness,
self-centeredness or obsession for power, money and prestige;
Christ’s journey with his disciples makes us reflect what it means,
to be a disciple is to be willing to sacrifice for the sake of others.
For the One I Know
In the ray of the rising sky
Will I raise my voice to the Most High
To glorify His Gracious name
The one that is never the same
With anything or bear by lords or gods.
On kneel will I affirm that no gods
Like Him. He is pure, He is One
And will remain Holy One in town.
His mercy cut across Whole clan
He mold. His Glorious vein... and His 'can'
Makes Him the Ever-living Superior
Being. While all remain inferior
Of everything a nation or society
Can claim. He maintains unequivocal entity
In history, as far as minds know
And as far as ancestors flow;
No Wisdom will... or surpassed His
“Being” and “Being Not”, which is of His
Understanding, the why- no one overrules Him.
Signs… and knowledge is Him,
That no mission and vision mask His bowls:
The why His “Be” and “Be not” is beyond owls.
At the climax of the caressing heavens
Will I not retreat to bow, and will bring on His evens
To the navel, the sea, the fountain, the soil…
And by His Grace will I cease not but toil
And eat joyfully from my earnings;
To equally appreciate my bearings,
And confer respect and honor -the glue-
To whom, He stressed and concurred, is due…
For God, and only Him will I not stop being loyal…
And will I not complain… with little or no royal.
I pray at the verge of collapse:
An alternating moment of taps,
Should I not, get tired of exalting His names.
For He’s Ever-worthy of His names;
Deserving is He to be glorified -the loving good God;
And Worthy is He to me -the Almighty God.
Note:
Will I not: I will not
Should I not: I should not
For: Suzanne Delaney's 'Let's Be Open' Contest.
Pacification
His horrid hunger
cries for total fulfillment;
overrules his mind.
Diversion is no answer;
addiction rules his sad world.
Pacification
is never the solution.
He will cry for more.
Starvation and withdrawal
may end this deadly hunger.
Sandra M. Haight
~3rd Place~
Contest: Images That Make You Think.
Sponsor: Silent One
Image #3
Judged: 04/14/2016
Touch the rising mist of cherry smiles
Herald cries of joyous miracles aflight,
Echo brisk allure of God’s spearing light
Cry in the bosom of Abraham’s seed
Refrain the ways of fame and greed;
Yield to peace though hate overrules
Intimidate the wicked with warm arms
Negate adversarial luck and vain charm,
Glorify the brooks flowing quietly still
Rise early...saturate thy heart with prayer
Inquire of strangers who hunger and thirst,
Verily your works of love shall surely rise first
Entertain the need of God’s angels unaware
Rejoice in eternity from life’s pain and tear.
I cannot begin to expound this breathtaking damsel
Grossly beyond definition, synonymous to a priceless parcel
An embodiment of perfection, fashioned with the master pencil
Dominator of her peers, born to exceed the greatest counsel
A baron to beauty, the synopsis of impressing
Her face, so precious a crystal, immoderately dazzling
Her eye's like a sunrise at twilight, stunning and mystifying
Her voice, sonorous and mystique, fabulous and arresting
She's a masterpiece, kick-starting the hearts of many at toll
Features actions that dance to the hidden language of the soul
Her words are like rain drops, piercing into the fabrics of minds, modifying roles
And her love, the humiliating wonder that I shall continue to extol
Instantaneously, she could be an inane trouble maker
A complete and elaborate example of a truculent overtaker
Unleashing the influx of a pestering disorder
Still, her heart vociferously overrules the purest of waters
She's my invaluable jewel, my love for her is abundant
My inevitable achievement, every other girl made redundant
My incandescent comforter, I'm truly highly exuberant
My incontrovertible blessing, yesterday, today, and constant
When darkness falls, when night prevails
And moonlight alone, walks with me
Will Faith go astray, or will God lead the way
In the Den of the Holy See
Will these strangest of times that we live in
Lead to unwritten laws that do harm
Will greed and the needs of the elitest few
Lead to comfort in Gods open arms
When death rears its head and ugliness shows
When apostolic flame can’t incite.
Priests wielding pistols, holy water within
Two metres away, practice Rites
Our Faith dies a death, once it’s needed
Creates a new ordered zeitgeist
Though we serve at the altar and eat of the flesh
And drink of the blood of Christ
Science demands to be proven
What the scientists fail to believe
Takes God from the lips of the peoples
Implantation of doubt in ‘Gods Seed’
Social media induced, arguments dispel
A World that is lost in discord
The Church doors are closed in the faces of those
Who have served in the name of the Lord
When nothing remains, but your Faith
You instinctively know what is right
Sympathy for the devil, overrules all the rules
Angels doubt! In the midst of the fight
When all that is left is all that is needed
When no reason nor logic remain
Exalted on high in the Devils discord
Then nowt but your Faith shall remain!