Best Peoplewords Poems
our beloved brother from India
Dr. Ram’s words are better than gold
board his magic carpet
woven with wit, intellect and insight
soar through sagas steeped in mythology
captivating revelations on cultural tradition
unique perspectives on historical events
clever concepts conveyed with humor
psychology, philosophy, behavior observations
materialize as “Mehtaisms”
stirring the soup
adding spice to the broth
supporting work of members new and old
our international melting pot
enriched by the work of a Literary Doctor
salute a special sage who graces us with gifts
Dr. Ram’s words are better than gold
* Dedicated to Dr. Ram Mehta in honor of Joe Maverick’s “Better than Gold” contest
Where Are The Words …
I Am Looking For Words …
… That Will Give Meaning
To Meeting You, This Evening
And What Can I Say ? …
What I Long To Say …
Instead of, Good To See You Friend
And Oh, How Have You Been ?
… Such Polite Conversation
Is Safe Presentation
Nothing More … So Much Less
I Need Hunger- Honestness
Packed With A Passion
Full-Out Conflagration
Instead of A Shy, Dulcet Tone
I Wanna Torch-Talk You, To The Bone !
Use Words, To Sear You To Your Soul
Singe, Deep Inside Your Soul
Soft and Husky In Confessions
Words, That Demand Actions
Emotive, Elusive, Essential
Elocution of The Quintessential
Romanticism Expressed …
The Pleasure Of Your Face, Eagerness
In Bold Explorations, Evolved
From Virgin-Feelings of First Love
That Make It Seem … Like Last Night
Invoking Future Visions, So Bright !
Oh, Where Are The Words ? …
I Am At A Loss For Words …
So Many Things, I Want To Let You Know …
Instead of Just Saying … ‘ Hello ’…
For: Ismael Nieves
Who Has Such A Passionate Style To His Poems
(and Also, The Little Joke of Big Words Between Us …
Hope You Enjoy This One Kiddo - Smile)
Promises, Promises...boldy broken
I spite these words when hastily spoken
The act pledged is almost never the issue
it's the scanning of priorties...somehow they missed you!!
You would never have held breath and waited
But the promiser spoke, declaritively stated...
"I will..." "We'll Go...." "Real soon..." "I promise..."
You'd have no reason not to take them at honest...
From as far back as I can remember
every promise I heard was "return to sender"
The phone would ring, my heart would sing
voice on the other end says...."forget the whole thing"
No fishing trips, campouts, or cookouts...look out!
Every time my hopes were up, then hooked out...
I died each time they let me down
when they picked me up, then set me down
when I had to kick start the merry-go-round
sat in an unpushed swing at the play ground...
So thinking back, I know it's why
I see a broken promise like a boldface lie
I hate nothing more than when words are hollow
when an oral oath lacks the action to follow
Trust breaks down when mouths, they run
Hold your tongue then no harm is done!!
Inspired by Michael's "What gets your Goat" contest!!
A poet cannot always be understood,
but those that can reach us are better than good.
There’s one at the Soup for both young and old.
Dr. Ram’s words are better than gold.
One poet I like who writes in this way
is very unique, and that’s why I say
when God made this man, he sure broke the mold!
Dr. Ram’s words are better than gold.
So whether in rhyme, in free verse or haiku;
in senryu, sijo, or in dodoitsu,
the good doctor rocks it, and so you’ve been told!
Dr. Ram’s words are better than gold.
Once his brown alpargata shoes trod countless miles,
imagination burst from his vivid, traveler's eyes...
He traversed valleys leading to azure mountains,
and heard a chant sung with vivacious tones.
Like the invaders of the past that built sturdy castles
on rugged hills, he intruded in those ghostly places...
expecting swift lancers with fierce glances ready to attack him,
or take him prisoner and toss him in a dungeon completely dim.
But with his slick tongue, he would kindly ask for a fair trail
and be scolded by the drunken King with the fattest tummy
to explain with a few words his intrusion in that well-guarded territory;
and looking so young and innocent, his plan for deception wouldn't fail!
" Oh, mighty Frederick II...I come in peace and as a conquered native,
I would bow in admiration to be of service to your kingdom,
which extends from Naples to Sicily, your mercy is imperative...
may your soldiers unlock these heavy chains that make me lame!"
The Norman King with the bluest eyes ordered the knights
to free him and waited for words to flow from his mouth with dry lips, " My great
King, I have grown grapes that are so juicy to eat with bread and they make
the most delicious wine to bring merriment to your festive nights!"
" Where's this region you mention with such wonder and delirium?"
With red-inflamed pupils, King Frederick II asked him. And he traveler's deep voice
vibrated with loud excitement , " Into the valley of Baianum!"
" Let me out of this castle and I will show the purple grapes of a farmer's choice!"
" Let him loose!" ordered the tall, fair king. " Give him the fastest horse,
and let him bring me proof of his finding!" The soldiers obeyed with reluctance,
but little trust they showed in him: they assumed he was another well-paid jester,
who performed his comedy well...they knew the cleverness of that young traveler!
James is my name with its historic meaning
An important king bore this name
Carrying it to its royal fame,
One reason why this name I’m esteeming
King James gave us the Bible in English
For which I am so proud
I say the words low or loud
But I could never speak Yiddish.
In the holy writ, more than one person shared
This name so renowned.
Oh, how she loved its sound ,
The name Mama always declared.
My uncle called me by a nickname;
He wanted to call me Jim
But Mama had words with him
She told him that JAMES is my name.
So family and friends, all my life,
Called me what Mom named me,
For that was her earnest plea.
Substitutes pierced her like a knife.
But I had a livelihood and bread to win
There, co-workers gave me a moniker
For which they would prefer—
They called me Jimmy or simply Jim.
Other aliases have been most replete,
Such as Whimpy, and Daneymoco,
Else, a-k-a, Hey You, or Jimbo.
Regardless, I will always come to eat.
For the "WHAT'S IN A NAME?" Contest
Sponsored by Linda-Marie The Sweetheart of P.S.
Bodyweight !.. I constantly gain..
Diet Regime ..gone in vain...
My body- totally out of shape..
Gymnasium is a total waste!
Huge shoes and clothes size-jumbo,
They tease me"Fatty Little Bumbo".
They say I'm fat and call me a ball,
Or they say I am huge wall.
Elephant, Hippo , they call me animal names,
All these words put me to total shame..
Hydrogen balloon , I am to some,
Hurting comments..yet I keep mum..
With tears rolling down my chubby cheeks..
Lonely and dejected I sit on the beach..
"Yes I'm Fat!", I scream aloud..
"Yet I'm happy and very proud!"
Confidence rises with my self esteem,
Happy and joyful, now I seem,
To all hurting comments, with a "Thank you" I smile
Leaving commenters surprised for a while..
Slowly though, one day they ask..
"Don't you feel like taking us to task ?"
"We hurt you and call out names to you..
And you only respond with a polite Thank you?"
To Them I say "Yes!, I'm fat..
So you tell me how to solve that ?
All diet and efforts have gone in vain..
Does that mean I live in shame ?"
"Comments from you , the beautiful!
Are compliments for me -the ugly fat Bull!"
My words make them feel terrible..
For ridiculing me they feel miserable..
Soon, towards me their attitudes change..
"Lady!! You are very beautiful! " together they claim
"Your inner beauty triumphs over our appearance..
Fat is Ugly..is our wrong inference.."
"Ultimate beauty !..is the beauty within...
That matters more..than being thin.".
Then they say "You are a gorgeous little beauty"..
And I wink" A gorgeous little fatty"!!
Is it so hard?
Is it that tough?
To love someone and say you love them
Or are just kisses enough
Are just actions simply understood?
But actions need words
And words need actions
And without each other
Love is never reached
Emotion is never granted
Feelings are never to be felt
But hurt and tears are to be spread
To love someone
To know he loves you back
To say you love him
But with none of words he says to you
How can I feel?
How can I assure love?
How can I live, with someone?
Unable to pronounce the simple letters
Or his carelessness simply allowed him
To forget…
So be it
I’m not gonna pronounce the simple words
I’m not gonna share the hidden passion
I’m not gonna live a wordless love
I’m just gonna stand there and watch you sink in your carelessness
Search for a person, who would accept a person like you
I’m just gonna pretend you never even loved me
You wordless piece of carelessness!
When I love someone
I say it with all my heart “I love you”
I show it with all my actions “I love you”
My problem is in being loyal
I trust too much, I love too well
Maybe its time
No one arrived, I’m starting to grow
Starting to realize
There is none to be loved
There is no love to be honored
But sadness and hurt will hunt you down
Vancouver's a private reference and it's not really about Canada as a whole, just one
experience regarding the aforementioned. Shh!
Schwein Fleisch vs schweinefleisch. As two distinct words it literally means "pig skin" as
one word it means "pork". I mean it as two distinct words so that it can tie in with
"pound of flesh". I was going to have "haut" but apparently "schweinhaut" is actually a
surname. Oh those unlucky few who roam the world as Mr and Mrs Pig-Skin! :(
__________
Vancouver
Chasing rainbows along horizons
Is insane. Clear misunderstanding.
You left the city and your pound of flesh.
Schwein Fleisch.
We were young, laughing and colliding
Corrupt to the claws. We were
Writing endlessly, listlessly and so
Apologetic. Pathetic fallacy
The downpour flooded the chalk into grey.
Of course we wrote about you.
Reviews were decadent and ego-manipulating.
We were akin with it. The world was always a
Spectrum of amazing.
Had to run.
Through the rainbow with
Your look of Old Nick.
No explanation.
Schwein Fleisch.
To The Prince Of The Passionate Land
Who Paints, With Both Words and Hands
Lightly Brushing Masterpieces
Riding His Realm, Wherever He Pleases
In A Far Fifth-Dimension of Grandeur
Or On A Different Cubism-Dream-Wonder
Sometimes, He Splash-Blue-Subdued
Oft Times, Just Look At The Hues, He’s Used !
His Word-Pictures Paints Such Fantasies
They Are Prince Freakasso, Styled Originalities
Places, Where Only Imageries, Can Go
Like The ‘Namesake’ Mind of Pablo Picasso
Whose Paintings Shouted, ‘Expressionism’ !
The Same Bold Style Stamps His Individualism
And When Prince Freakasso, Paints With Such Speech
His Lips, Brushes With Words So Sweet
Prince Freakasso, Of The Passionate Land
Who Paints, With His Lips and Hands
Lightly Brushing Masterpieces
Riding His Realm, Wherever He Pleases
Aaaah, Sweet Prince
Let Your Painting Commence …
From Your Pearl-Sculptress,
MoonBee
Putting words and “wards” in my words
I’m not wayward, but waying words into their ward
The world’s words are wayward
But my words are “rhyming” “way” “words”
My world, are full of words
But the world is full of wrongs
Yes! I’ll right the wrong by rhyming words
With writing rights, I’ll write right
My “right”, my ways, my words, my world,
Hmmm, “way words”,
Will change our world.
Linda is lively, lovely and laudable
Intelligent, interesting and incredible
Nice, nifty, neighborly and noble
Darling, decent, and desirable
Amusing, alluring and admirable
Marie is meek, mild and memorable
Active, ambitious, aspiring and affable
Resourceful, responsible, and reliable
Inspiring, indelible and indefatigable
Experienced, exemplary and educable
Bright, beautiful and un-believable
Accommodating and amenable
Reasonable, rich and respectable
Incomparable, intriguing and invaluable
Accountable and amiable
Neat, noteworthy, and nimble
Apprehensible and appreciable
~All the above words are not enough to describe the “sweetheart souper!”
Please don’t quote any on the words out of context; I used the words based on the positive
meanings they have~ just playing with words!
We die at tender ages,
while ambitions are still young;
we are trials and failures.
Poets are people too.
Our wastes stink like everyone’s.
We cry, we hoot.
We love, we show disgust.
Poets are people too.
The same lips that brought comfort to the oppressed
and shout approvals for things well done,
utter dark enchantments
and trumped-up stories.
Poets are people too.
Our fables of love bring descents
and eternal anguish to the beguiled.
Our soft words stir wilting souls to endure,
and cast delight into tearful eyes.
Poets are people too.
Our words are mummies,
preserved for scrutiny.
We echoed the defiance for ethics,
and bend revolting spirits to resign.
We mold soft hearts as cruel as stones,
and corrupt beautiful minds.
Poets are people too.
We are mothers and fathers, uncles and aunts;
we are children, delightful children.
We are the voices of ten thousands suffering.
We make mockery their fates
Knowing that mishaps have no dates
Priding ourselves in our states
We fail to see our dirty slates
But I see their smile and ask why
Understanding their language,I try
In true innocence ,they do fly
As on their privacy,I do pry
But I would rather turn a deaf ear
Than to hear to words to fear
I marvel at their silent cheer
As I seek to draw near
I would rather go dumb
Than say words to make you numb
I watch my talk and chew gum
As I seek to hurt none
The words we speak
How clever, how cheap
With just a whisper
We turn cities into glitter
I feel the need for mourning
No, it’s just no good
We’re just no good
What’s the use in proselytizing
The enigmatic, homophobic, problematic, religious fanatic?
Speaking words with little meaning
What’s the use in spewing words with no residual resonance?
Clicking the clicker, hoping for a flicker
Just a bit of sugary static
The manic’s are always the ones to leave everything undone
We make fun of worthless things
Wealthy women with loaded egos
Surrounded by air heads, a multitude of morons
It’s bad enough I have to endure feelings I can’t express
Must I entertain the notion of a people with good intentions?
Left captive in a cage
Stuck here, engaged in a fit of rage
I hope to negate the arrogant & obstinate
From enjoying the fruits of my cerebral labor.