Best Overseer Poems


Parable of the Talents

The Master left to go away,
But, being wise and just,
He first called forth three servants and
Placed Talents in their trust.

According to their proven skills
He portioned out their share:
Five to the first, the second two
One to the last man there. 

And once the Master went away
The man he gave the five
Invested what he had been lent
And made his Talents thrive.

The man who had been given two
Worked hard to earn yet more,
But he who had been given one
Hid his beneath the floor.

After a time the Master came
Returning from his task
And bid his servants come to Him
With but one thing to ask.

"With what I had entrusted you
Now give me your account."
The man to whom was given five
Had doubled his amount.

In turn, the man He'd given two
Had turned them into four. 
The Master said, "Well done my sons, 
Now I will give you more."

The last whose Talent had been hid
Rushed forth to plead his case.
"I have protected what you gave
Within a secret place."

The Master, disapproving, looked
Upon his share returned.
"What good can hidden Talents do?
They yield no profit earned."

That Talent then He gave to he
Whose faithfulness was proved,
And from the man who had but one
His little was removed.

The moral of this story then
If you have ears to hear
Is we are given portions of
Which we are overseer.

Don't let your talents waste unknown
Whether they're small or great.
Whatever talents you possess
Should even more create.

9.16.18
Contest: Parable of the Talents
© Jesse Rowe  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: overseer, allegory, bible, spiritual,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Life According To John Lawless

Life according to John Lawless


Real Life

a childish attempt to gather leaves
on a windy day

looking out the window at the rain
wearing swim suit and goggles

standing in the mud – wondering
why you just couldn’t resist it

a yard sale of emotions
tarnished and tagged


Ah Life

Curator of the hearts mausoleum
Guardian of guilt’s abyss
Overseer of the asylums mind
Debunker of both truths and lies


Still Life

a childish attempt at growing old
looking out the window at the rain
gazing at the mud – wondering
why life couldn’t just leave you alone


10/29/2015

submitted to – Life according to…. – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Silent One
Categories: overseer, life,
Form: Free verse

The Plight of 'Naraini' - Women of the Girmit Era

Young, gentle and in bondage
This innocent bird flew towards the promised land
Her frame petite yet powerful
Her eggs beautifully nested when transported from Calcutta

The sight of the new turf welcoming
A dream of hope and fair go brewing deep within
Day and night she laboured for payments equating to peanuts
The breadth of whips ploughed her like a bull in the harsh fields of Nadi

Her eggs now fertile
A pretentious malnourished glow adorning her face
No snug mattress at night
No baby shower

The scorching sun and the liberal rain
Her only companions to clad her in celebration
Cooked, then drenched, then burnt…
She finally delivers a dead bundle of tears

Her tragedy apparently not so sensational
Urging her overseer to order her back to the fields in four days
The memories of the dead child
Not at all dead in her head

Cold and depressed she refuses to present herself
Maternity leave a term alien on the ‘girmit’ fields
Gathering courage from ‘Durga’, she dares to speak of rights
Perhaps the very last time she spoke

The overseer, insulted and beats her near death
Lying in the fields with broken limbs and essence
Her veil the only bandage
To cover her wounds.
Categories: overseer, nostalgia,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member The Overseer

peregrine falcon

                                    scout upon the citadel

                                    pigeons kept in check







***
Categories: overseer, appreciation, bird,
Form: Haiku

Premium Member Four by Four

1. Earth

The designated household steward
Formidable, resourceful, and replenishable
Overseer of life advancement
Protector of the realm 

2. Air

The dynamic life giver
Atmospheric regulator and ventilator
Breathable qualities regenerative properties
Possessor of the realm 

3. Water

The paramount mundane neccesitator
Aquatic shapeshifter's topographical improvements
Liquefied nutrient entities' sustainabilities 
Provider of the realm 

4. Fire

The maintenance of creation
Foundational builder massive molding
Keeper of the Flame
Prudential of the realm
© Hilo Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: overseer, allusion, analogy, earth, fire,
Form: Verse

Premium Member Death Is Terrified

Bishop of our souls, looked below.
His blood, a flow.
Life, gave it all —
so great our fall.

The great I Am entombed. Presumed
that mankind’s doomed!
Angels abide
by Jesus side.

Of scripture, death is terrified.
His eyes are wide
when Jesus wakes —
bides fire in lakes.*

7/18/2021
12 Lines in Rhyme
Sponsor: Joseph May
Rhymezone & HMS

*bides - waits for

1 Peter 2:25 For you were like sheep going astray, but now you have returned to the Shepherd (Bishop) and Overseer of your souls.

Revelation 20:14 Then death and Hades were thrown into the lake of fire.

Bible Scriptures NIV
Categories: overseer, christian,
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member The Wind Whisper

I’m the whispering voice of legacies long sense past, the overseer
Of generations traveling with broken wings of tribal tradition,
A vanquished chieftain, whom sheds his sacred feathers, as tears
Shame upon the white man’s winds of manifest destiny.
Clarity’s shattered warrior languishing within a river of
Crimson shoals, drowning beneath salvations suffering,
Wounded left at bending knees of mercy, abandon, with
Our archers crushed bow, and idle arrows of sorrow, upon
The battle field of ignorance and indifference.
Kindred leaves of humanities autumn, 
Left torn and tossed asunder,
Tatters remnants, drifting loosely on the breeze
 Of progress,
Built upon the ash pile of a nation’s people.
Many life flames flicker at the sacred fire beyond,
Hear the drumming’s roar; it is the beating heart,
The bleeding soul, crying out for revenge, but
Driven deeply is the spear of destiny, piercing
The righteous spirit, shattering it into a million
 Pieces, that descends as raindrops of regret.
Treaties promises melt away as paper confetti,
Burnt embers offerings left as crisp fiery spray,
Floating in the deadened chill of winter’s forth
Coming.
Beneath the singed blankets of tribal markings,
Lie huddled the feeble of starvation, those whom
Desire to feed from the table of their ancient culture,
But these eloping breasts are drained dry.
Behold these starving cannot remember the flavor
Of her milks taste, nor the fragrance of her natural
 Perfume, for they are the lost tribe of humanity,
People of the desert prairie, blown apart by the 
Scorching winds of fate.
I’m the whispering voice of legacies long sense past, the overseer
Of generations traveling with broken wings of tribal tradition,
A vanquished chieftain, whom sheds his sacred feathers, as tears
Shame upon the white man’s winds of manifest destiny.
Harken my children and listen, for wind whisper walks amongst
You, and I’ll mend the bow, with prides honor, in faith’s devotion,
The ancient warrior shall ride again, against the flames of our
Sacred fire, and thus the weeping woman shall cry no more.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
© Cherl Dunn  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: overseer, america, history, imagery, imagination,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Ebony and Phonics

Ebony and Phonics


Talkin’ Jive, slippin’ inta the ethnic eccentricities
of survival, hip-hop, rap, the blues, Ebonics.

Ebonics, the melding of Ebony and Phonics
into a language that could be spoken
within hearing of the overseer.  Genius
spoken here, clandestine communication
lines strung in plain view.  News flashes,
who ran, who escaped, who was sent and
where, who was sold.  Assumed “ignorance”
displaying pure brilliance before an unconscious
audience.

Ebonics, a language shaped by hardships and
prejudice, now reduced to phrases and a
chant-like mockery of its necessity and
protection. 

Ebonics, a language that preserved a spirit,
nurtured a fierce independence, fed the
flames of rage and the hopes of love.

Ebonics, a tribute to a tenacious desire to
be free, not from the chains, but from
the bondage of the chains.  Free to
communicate their deepest thoughts,
their hidden loves, their seething hates.

Ebonics, lost key to railroads underground,
doors no longer found, generations in
search of freedom’s sound.


John G. Lawless
8/16/2014
for Verlena S. Walker
Ebonics – Let’s do Some Slang contest
Categories: overseer, language, slavery, prejudice,
Form: Free verse

Scorpio

Sexy sensual silky smooth seductively smart Sebastian
Charismatic cool comet crashing creative chemical concoction
Over thinker overseer overwhelming
Revolving six shooter raw rhyme repeater
Purposeful and pondering the question of what's powerful
Intense somewhat intelligent always an irresistible individual
Oddball offspring enjoying an open water poetry philosophical odyssey
Categories: overseer, character, me,
Form: Acrostic

Lady of the Night - Ii

Dreaming of a pot of gold, you came to town
It was sprawling, this metropolis, you knew none around
Your earnings were scant and engagements, irregular
The overseer assured steady income in lieu of a favour
You succumbed to ward off uncertainties, and gradually sank deeper

You were born of impoverished stock, high up in the Himalayas
Your clean looks and youthful age were your kin’s panacea
Your home, the arid plains, where land is mostly barren
Starvation a reality, your innocent world was broken
When it comes to sacrifice, inevitably you are chosen

You were a country girl, pubescent and barely thirteen
Travelling to the big city with a distant kin
To serve an urban family with mop and pail
A drug laced cup of tea made you vulnerable to a cartel
You woke, imprisoned, in a dingy room of a highway brothel

Battered and beaten and raped to submission
You forgot the gods and your daily oblation
Your escort paid dearly for his betrayal and malice
Was it your homage to the gods or backstreet justice?
You languish now in jail, but the brothel still exists

You were in your second year, studying BA (Honours)
With a weakness for the life of the upper class
And the knowledge to achieve what you felt, you must
The initiation was debasing – no niceties, just frenzied lust
The payment was in cash –the first time wasn’t the last

You are not alone in your tainted existence
Women arriving at the metropolis in suburban trains
Working by day and exiting before the peak hour rush
Living in opulence, in times past – barely middle class
Very discreet, these devil women and financially flush

You conceived, a professional risk, and the baby you resolved to keep
Now nineteen and actively trafficking, his misdeeds make you weep
His latest catch, a tender ten year old, the same age you were shackled
Your flesh and blood, the son, you had mothered from the cradle!
Your agony was incomplete, now it had completed its cruel cycle

Hail lady of the night
With time, you’ve overcome both fear and fright 
And blended the distinction between wrong and right
You’ve lost your vision, though you retain your sight
In a world shrouded in darkness where the sun still shines bright
Categories: overseer, life, sad, social, world,
Form: Narrative

A Slave's Plight

The air on board was foul and putrid.

Chained together at the ankle in

coffles, evil dragged me and others

with scabbed lips on board.

Humiliated under the sun, we were

stripped naked and examined from

head to toe and put in quarters to

be raped.

My senses dulled from abuse, bouts

of hunger with nausea, constipation

and headaches made me sick.

The hallucinations from the forlorn

distance sent shivers down my spine

as lulling whispers of shackles

tormented me.

 

The anchor was set up, huge sails

caused the ship to fly amidst ominous

looming dark clouds.

Thunder rumbled like a hungry monster.

Cold breeze swept across the ship as i

lay numb from the pain for months.

Heavy cowhide descended on my

shrinking flesh and manacled limbs.

I grieved yesterday’s anguish as the

sacred zeal in my bosom glowed

preceding with my woes.

 

A raised wooden stage welcomed

me ashore.

Naked, exposed to the sun’s piercing

beam, bids were tallied carefully.

Negotiations were made, i now

belonged to “massa”.

Working the heat in the plantations

under harsh conditions, my back ached

and wounds from the whipping from the

overseer hurt – my fingers bled from

picking cotton.

Mentally subdued, i hid behind religion’s

soothing balm.

My mind was no longer my own, this body

belonged to “massa”.

I constantly pranced in the hallowed night,

lamenting a hopeless future for my child-

humming a languid song in hope that my

ancestors might hear my plight.

I raised my head to the sky, and envisioned

freedom’s caress under a constellation.
Categories: overseer, black african american, slavery,
Form: Ode

Dear God

Dear God
By H2O the silent poet 

I'm literally breaking up with you
I'm tired of asking you to take the wheel and Everytime you abandon me to my own will.
Just to be crashed like cande crash  my soul cries out in 
Silence but still no response ,if my idea of a toxic relationship is this one we share .

For your sake I'm facing disgrace
What happened to the grace you said is sufficient for me?

If they is a  God 
I'm tired of tearing in my pillows.
Everyday the devil is beating drums inside my head
I might as well just dance to the beat  of his drum.
Hes promises sims to  ease me even if its just temporary ?? 

I have always known you as the overseer 
So how come you dont see me?
Down here !
I'm officially breaking up with you
I'm tired of living inside an ocean but 
Yet I'm dying of thirst.i sea nothing but the ocean of pain 
Your people are  cry out to without any response, 
You just site and watch as from up and above 
So am making this officially I'm breaking up with you
My soul is slowly breaking down 
As darkness envelops my soul 

Pains is  breaking my soul from deep down 
As darkness is enveloping my soul
I'm drained in misery
I'm now a prey to the predator. As you just site just smile 

My life has no essence without your presence 

Dear God I'm officially taking the pills.
i might as well come back to meet you.
I don't have to wait to be killed before ending this hell
After all I'm still going to end up in hell.

Gods response 2
Categories: overseer, character, growing up,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Old Tire Swing

Golden sun rays warm the  fields  as greens fade    
Hum speech breath revolve deep and silence lace
rustling reddish, tan, golden leaves astray   
emerald green garden  lawn looking up
gnarly old tree of deep raw umber shades
mid gold swaying canopy autumn leaves 
highest out stretched bough grasp the  fraying rope 
overseer over the aged tire swing

In savor peace caught swaying sole pensile
An old somber tire swing rotting away 
Espy hushed cries for human yielding wings 
legs over tires edge on ardent warm days


12/17/2016

 
For the contest: Form B 
Sponsored By; Broken Wings
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: overseer, autumn, longing,
Form: Blank verse

Den of the She-Wolf

Perhaps we have loved before
in the Lupanar of Pompei
goddess of Priapus
the overseer
of the fertile garden
commanded me.

We perspired upon pillows
stuffed with reeds
feathers and straw
most unwitting lady
whispered to me
"You will be Priapus!"

Content within you
likeness of dedicated fruit
made love into real fruit
worn lascivious acts
woman of well-borne grapes
dark skinned lady enraged with lust.

Stars may rise and set
but the light within us has set
night becomes one long dream
I now desire for 1000 more kisses
dark goddess of Priapus
from where Romulus and Remus
suckled the milk of the she-wolf...
Categories: overseer, beauty, desire, love, muse,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Breaking the Glass Ceiling a Quatrain

BREAKING THE GLASS CEILING

Deborah,God annointed Judge&Prophetess
a matriarch,overseer of men,..no less;
Mary,at Jesus feet,studied...just as a man
in Christ there is no gender ban
Categories: overseer, christian, spiritual, teacher, today,
Form: Didactic
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