Best Peaceably Poems


Premium Member Nirvana

Just you and me, cogitating intently, placidly,
Contemplating peaceably, balance of being,
Listening to birdsongs jubilantly serenading 
Tranquility luxuriating upon hills and valleys
Where bees on blossoms propagate symbiosis
Amid euphonic winds soothing glint evening
Caressing buoyancy on ebb and flow of tides
When, upon golden arc, sunbeams subside 
Scintillating leisurely amber glow of eventide
Congruent on horizon where pelicans glide
Hushed in sunset ochre, etching crimson sky
On quiescent ocean shore lost in idyllic vibes
Just you and me, placid, in amity of seaside
Calming pulsing beats, consoling complexity,
Breathing-in holy serenity, exhaling impurity~ 
Transcendent feelings, blissfully in harmony.

September 20, 2021
Placed 1st: “N” Poems, New or Old Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
Form: Verse

Condemned To Limbo

Winter approached 

in hours of finality, 

quelled midst midnight's 

imperfectly lit enticement 

of darkly notable

impressive spirits, 

motioning a welcomed 

goodbye gesture, 

laying to rest 

a chilled salutation, 

as ghostly ambitions 

commenced to play 

a well articulated

empowering seduction, 

chasing lullaby's softly

dreamt enchantment, 

sleeping peaceably

unfurled beyond

destined reawakening, 

condemned to limbo
© Paloma P   Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member American Liberties

Freedom isn't Free
                       It comes with the price of Responsibility.

           American citizens are born with the inalienable right 
                         To peaceably assemble, to petition
                Their grievances, their aversions, their plights.

                                    Freedom isn't Free
                        It comes with the price of Responsibility.

                     Marching and rioting; with causes so deep;
                  Hubris and anger taking the charge, engaging
           In destruction, threatening the welfare of the public at large.

                                   Freedom isn't Free
                        It comes with the price of Responsibility.

                     Women's rights, undocumented immigrants,
                 The racial divide and global affairs their major concerns;
               Heightened by the outcome of this unprecedented election,
                    Propelling feckless tactics and undue aggression.

                                   Freedom isn't Free
                       It comes with the price of Responsibility.

        Celebrities jumping on board; rallying with acrid voices,repudiating calm
                          resolution for revolt and revolution.
        What have they accomplished, what have they done; tarnished the
                  credibility of voices that should peacefully be sung.

                                  Freedom isn't Free
                        It comes with the price of Responsibility.




            February 20, 2017


Premium Member An Earnest Prayer

Lord, help me be who you made me to be,
To be true to myself as well as to others
Help me see the value of every individual,
To live peaceably with sisters and brothers.
Lord, may I be a light to those in darkness
Shining out, a witness to your love and grace,
Not afraid to share the victories of my life
Knowing you entrusted me with this space.
Lord, help me make a difference where I am,
For I long to make your world a better place
Yet I know my influence is most felt at home
Where I learned the moral truths to embrace.
Lord, when I have accomplished all I can do
Please take me home to be forever with you. 

Written May 19, 2022
Form: Sonnet

My Role Model

Who said my role model had to be black;
Who said she'd have to be like this or this is the way she should act.
Who put it in my head that my role model would have no faults;
Or that she should be put on a pedestal.....she would be safer in a vault.
What my mom told me and I do agree;
Is that my role model would exalt the best in me.
She could go through the storms of life and hold on to her faith;
She wouldn't have any special powers, she would seek the Lord's face.
She could confront tragic issues, and handle them with grace;
She would seek a higher calling, and wait patiently in her place.
She would have a concern for people and reach out to that need,
She would do it no matter what color, religion or creed.
She would put forth her best effort when she was on the job,
She never considered a task beneath her or anything too hard.
She would be positive and prayerful, and also watchful and careful.
She would have tact and have mercy; and avoid controversy.
As much as possible, she would live peaceably with all men;
She would resist the devil and he would flee, she'd avoid his agent sin.
It may seem like I am exalting her or lifting her too high,
But she is a Christian woman and the Lord she does not deny.
So when you read this poem, it is really a little story;
It is not her I am exalting, but to God be the glory.
She is a friend who listens and has a deep concern;
I have worked with her for many years and these things I have learned.
Now you may be curious as to who this woman is,
She is a friend who has occasionally wiped away my tears.
She only finished high school, but that did not hold her back;
And one other thing.....NO...she is not black!!

Dedicated to Frances White Barry   &   My mother Pearl Yant
Form: Rhyme

Mountain Gorilla

MOUNTAIN GORILLA


            Gentle giant of the great apes
            Close to us in temperament  
            With compassion and love of family
            Mighty vegetarian walking the Congo
            Hunted and endangered species.

            Silver-backed male
            Father and protector 
            Too heavy to sleep in trees
            Sleeps on the jungle floor
            While his family sleep safely above. 

            Babies cling to mothers’ backs
            Carried through the jungle
            With silver-back on guard for danger
            Loving family group of nine
            Moving peaceably from place to place.
            
            Villagers of the Congo
            Hunt and kill gorillas for meat
            Selling skins on the black market
            While hunters kidnap the young 
            Selling them to zoos for public display.

            Days of gorillas in the wild are numbered
            Soon only to be found 
            Gentle giants caged in zoos
            Paraded for human entertainment
            Great apes so close to us in temperament.

                                            Colin Ian Jeffery


Pesky Poppycock Payback Please Prepare

Prevarication permits pretend perception, presenting
piquantly piqued, pimply pimping playboy, plucky
pulchritudinous previously pusillanimous, prevalently
puckish, psychic packman, pokemon playing proletarian

puppeteer pygmy, peevishly punky, plummy, plumy,
pompously pushy, pampered, prefabricated pinchbeck,
pokily plying plowshear, plodding peregrination, pied
piper pitifully peppy pornographic potato pealing,

parsimonious paradoxical protagonist, proposing
preposterous panicky pacification plots, prioritization
pertinent penultimate peroration, perhaps perceiving
perjuring, perplexing, perverting puzzling pronouncements

projecting pulsating pixelated pulpy pinball pinging
packets prompting pacific, poetic, phlegmatic purplish
psoriasis plagued, plumbum pallor pallid, Paleolithic
protuberance pronounced, psychosomatic prohibitionist,

polarizing perfunctory peculiarly progressive, patriotic
postmodern pathologically proud paternal panache,
peripatetic panaceas portraying prescient perfidious
puerile president, predominantly proposing parochial

principles, plenty public parking, purposefully
promoting pharisee phalanxes, pilates practicing
paragons, perennially peaceably proficient protesters,
profitable polygamy, pugnacious pitbull powerball

players, pandering polyandry, propagating professional
palindrome pensive peeping people, peddling,
proselytizing predicating prostitution, proliferating
phenomenally, populist persona promulgated peyote

phased physicians pioneering prescription promoting
paradisiacal pricey photographic pictures, placating
phrenetic physical perturbation partaking place
purchased (paid paltry pennies) por palatial piazza.

The Gentle Soul

THE GENTLE SOUL
 
   so many roads i've traveled
so many years i've roamed
 
   when will this tired gentle soul
ever find himself a home
 
  i've lived my life so peaceably
no one have i harmed
 
   where is the soul mate that i seek
to wrap in loving arms
 
  i believe that only time will tell
the reason i have to wait
 
   or maybe i am one of those
with lonliness as my fate
 
   but i'll keep on hoping and wishing
and continue with my search
 
   and be the gentle soul i am
while i still walk the earth
Form: ABC

Twice Upon a Time

TWICE UPON A TIME 

two things clicked. A severed 
evening parachuting down 
on a hillock where a palace 
hovered about. And coming 
to terms with a cool perspective. 

Kuchipudi there was. And Payal 
to perform. Dispelling detachments. 
And dithering in acceptance. I was
being answered in steps like 1 plus
1 is 2 or 10, binary or not. 

And then Amjad Ali’s Sarod 
Intervenes to disprove detachments 
and to accept acceptance. Reducing 
things to chewable bits. To be 
politically and peaceably correct. 

S.Jagathsimhan Nair

For Justin Bordner's contest.



28 jan 2015.

Right To Remain Silent

Thinking about tattooing
"noitatneserP erocnE"
across my back.  
Install mirrors on the 
bedroom ceiling
so she sees it spelled 
correctly as I pray for her
only stopping when
Hallelujah reverberates 
down our halls.
Think I'll remove my filter
Let her see my censorship
Picturing a blurred spot
below my abdomen
intermix it with bleeps
followed by adjectives that
proceed her name.
Tonight I won't refrain
driving her insane
exposing raw thoughts
that I've kept secret
Make her beg for silence.
Auditory overload
Can I get a "shut the hell up
and beat it up Daddy" moment
And I be quiet when she
comes around, but
when she's in the that
paralyzed prognosis
I be talking again.
Sometimes I think I should 
keep thoughts to self
but tonight, self, thought,
and her will come together
peaceably without any resisting.
© Ts Lewis  Create an image from this poem.

Freedom of Speech

I’m flatter by the system it’s not corporate it just ain’t witness

If every answer came out of the air or thin hair we could do what Moses did and part

The sea

Thoughts that come and thought  that play around on time line

I never lost faith in the system the system never characterize a belief

All I ask is can I testify and take it to the streets

If I pledge the alliance does the star mean another

Hero has fallen

Thoughts that come and thought  that play around on time line

If word fragments dawn and never waking how would I plead the fifth

Answer out of a page or history book let one judge

Thoughts that come and thought  that play around on time line




“Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.”
Form: Verse

Dust To Dust

It was suggested that I plan my
Own funeral
The entities living on me
In me
Have ensured that I will not last forever

I lived quietly among my family for eons
Uninhabited
But never lonely

Then the entities came
Looking for virgin land
Wild and free
With no history
- as far as they were concerned

They lived here peaceably
For a hundred sun orbits
And multiplied and prospered
They had brought life forms with them
And they, too
Multiplied and prospered

Until I became overcrowded
The entities
Moved out of their original small settlements
And built vast cities
Which necessitated digging into my soil
Blasting my hills
Retraining my rivers’ natural paths
They melted my poles
And emptied my oceans
Soon I was covered in concrete

They polluted the air
The land
The water
Until I lay in spoils
Dying
So now I must plan my funeral

Brothers, play the music of the spheres for me
Mourners, pray to the sun for me
Remember how happy I was before
The occupation

The entities are finally leaving
In search of another virgin

Sisters, will you send out advance warnings?
“To the next victim:
Beware noisy unheeding beings
Who land with silver ships
And make false promises

I don’t know, maybe you can freeze them out
Or melt them down


Blow them away
Or shake them off
Or drown them

I hope you do not do what I did: 
Accept them in peace
And hope”

I don’t know when or if these entities will ever learn
To respect what is not theirs

So I must plan my funeral
Brothers and sisters, could you combine
Your energies
To push me closer to the sun

I would like to be cremated
To return from whence I came

I do not wish to remain here
A forgotten
A dead dusty red planet
Alone
© Kj Hooten  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member My Spiritual Freedom

A worthless worm…writhing in wretchedness
Hell-bound creature because of iniquities
That was I: doomed to everlasting torment
Condemned to suffer forever…
Yet, God Almighty with His grace and compassion 
Reached down to me wondrously…
…He lifted me up from sins’ quagmire
Transforming my life miraculously;
Now, like a butterfly, peaceably beauteous
I’m freely doing His entrusted role as His called steward...
Thankful to His blessings, spread like "every grain of sand." 

With righteous deeds likened to filthy rags
Imprisoned was I to my hypocritical beliefs
Such was I: verily unprofitable according to Scriptures’ gauge
Midst my self-glorying domineering conceit…
Yet, the Saviour with His truth and mercy
Imparted to me His divine nature……
…He rescued me from corruption by His holiness
Unchaining my soul from the clasps of religious dogmatism;
Now, I’m justified… acquitted from transgressions’ punishment
Freed indeed*, clothed with virtues for Christ-driven service...
Appreciating His magnificence shown by "every grain of sand."

*John 8:36 If the Son therefore shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed.

April 3, 2019

Edited on May 7, 2019
4th place, "Musical Inspiration" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Joseph May; judged on 6/6/2019.

Premium Member I'M a Workin' Man

I'm just a common workin' man and have been all my life,
Laborin' eight hours a day to support my kids and wife.
Tryin' to do my honest best to make desperate ends meet,
Makin' sure my clan is housed, clothed and has enough to eat.

I've worked on the assembly line for nigh on twenty years,
Twistin' nuts and bolts, assemblin' pinion shafts and gears.
Although I work hard and have what they call stayin' power,
I ain't never made more'n nine-ninety-eight per hour.

I'm so very blessed and satisfied with my earthly lot.
Thank the Lord, I enjoy more'n lots of folks has got.
Though the mortage on our humble home is hard at times to handle,
We skimp and save to pay the bills, avoidin' financial scandal!

How I love walkin' in the door to be greeted by my precious brood.
No matter how tryin' my day has been, they tend to brighten my mood.
Grabbin' my legs, all chatterin' at once, tellin' me about their day.
Home! Family! Love! America! I treasure all that I survey!

I'll never be a rich man and for that I do not aspire.
The good Lord willin', I hope one day to jes' peaceably retire,
To enjoy my treasured family by a warm and cheerful fire!
Their love and fellowship is all that I truly do desire!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Form: Rhyme

Thirteen

I was born in Middle East in the outskirt of a state of Palestine –
Abducted at birth and my father executed when I was thirteen;
We buried him alone, bade him goodbye, in the midst of night.
Our desires and dreams, as family, put to fire and set alight.

Aware that our knight, the hope and the warmth with him are gone,
We felt unsafe, uncared for, deserted by life – menace sworn. 
I was only thirteen years old when I was targeted to be raped,
Brutal a man who wished to ravish  and leave my womanhood reshaped.

I witnessed my mother ravished – my fear remains indissoluble till today,
Take it straight from me, I laid back, with hopeless anguish in my way.
At only thirteen, I saw how my mother endured the brutality of wild man –
My heroine, violated at the expense of my wellness as best as one can.

Which despicable man lets a woman go through such torment,
I, the child, my soul from within weeping tears of sad lament?
Life in Middle East was never fair on us we absconded for a better state,
Traveled through a desert, to as farther as our feet could possibly take.
 
Life was hell –with the knife I was ready to stab into my troubled heart
Bleed to death for as long as me and torture could live apart   
With a pistol I was ready to shoot right to the level of my head,
My life was just of pain and unworthiness –I felt as good as dead.

Death or dignity – we crossed the desert scared to live, scared to die;
For it seemed like only the stars were peaceably with us from the sky.
Just give to God what belongs to God, and to earth what belongs to earth;
Today it marks thirteen year since my father died, I’m sadly reminded now of his death.

March 16, 2017

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