Best Perpetrated Poems
CORONA VIRUS (COV-19)
The Black Death, or bubonic plague, which happened nearly 700 years ago, (in the three year period of 1347 to 1351 in which it lasted) took the lives of an estimated 75 to 200 million people. It stayed dormant for 300 years. It then reared its ugly head in Spain and London. The plague is certainly a devastating entity to be reckoned with. The attack by terrorists on 9/11 was a dastardly deed perpetrated by cowards and the death toll was horrendous but by comparison, the Black Death is by far the worse catastrophe ever witnessed by mankind. In Biblical History, leprosy was the most dreaded disease which maimed and killed many. But rest assured there are days coming that all the combined plagues of history can compare. In the Book of Matthew 24:6-13 it reads: "And you will hear of wars and rumors of wars. See that you are not troubled: for all these things must come to pass, but the end is not yet. For nation will rise up against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. And there will be famines, pestilences, and earthquakes in various places. All these are the beginning of sorrows. Then they will deliver you up to tribulation and kill you, and you will be hated by all nations for My name's sake. And then many will be offended, will betray one another, and will hate one another." There is already great evidence of this taking place in government today and all around the world. You may ask the question, "What does this have to do with the Corona Virus (COV-19)? The Corona Virus can be controlled. The chaos and devastation of Armageddon cannot be stopped or brought under control. Therefore, it is an undisputed fact that the world will experience a catastrophe far greater than anything that has ever taken place. Matthew 6:33-34 reads: "Seek ye first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble."
Friday, 13 March 2020
Curtis Moorman
For the Corona Virus (COV-19) contest
As I stared into the starless night,
the blinding lights of the city blotting out the beauty of a
cloudless sky fading away into day
I wonder what we missed this time - so preoccupied with our
earthly troubles - perhaps a message that Heaven wanted us to hear
Could it be a winsome Sonnet that was waiting in the winds for us, but we did not listen?
As I looked out over the waters of the endless river - flowing steady
The small streams making their own separate way, reflecting the
beauty of the Moon lighting up the night sky; What is the story they
have to tell - but we are too busy trying to sort out the problems we
brought upon ourselves
Could it be a sweet Melody in answer to the questions that flow continuously through our hearts?
Oh Look! Behold the mountains rising in the distance - the lovely
Daffodils and Sunflowers moving in the soft winds - blue green grass covering the Earth from as far as the eye can see - What is this Song they sing? Do we not understand the language they speak to us? Are we so filled with the
worries of everyday life that the meaning is hidden from our minds
Could it be a wholesome Ballad to guide us through the maze of the
issues of everyday life?
It seems we can translate with ease the verbiage of hate filled hearts;
We put ourselves in agreement with the Lie; that our Creator made one
race of people superior to another; we read the dictionary filled with the
meaning of murder, betrayal and treachery - perpetrated upon others who
were made in the same image as ourselves - and then we watch with
closed hearts the consequential results of indulging in this dark information
Could it be that we missed the sweet Song whispering in our hearts
from Heaven's Choir?
For 15 years I have tolerated,
calculated, anticipated, sublimated workplace degradations, derisions,
subversions towards my character,
not today, no more,
yes, my pride has become livid, swollen like a bad bruise on the heart
and I apologize not for my self defense & righteous roil,
I will address you as the mean spirited scoundrels that you are,
no more 'boss - employee' boundry, just one human to another,
No fascade & title to prance behind, no longer above reproach from the lesser,
you are now entering the shock of the 'dead-fall' ,
buck you and your low wages, buck you and your perfect policies,
buck you and your work ethic 'mumbo jumbo',
buck you and the lame insults and false criticisms perpetrated
against my innocence and motivation,
buck you with your attempts to undermine my positive leadership,
buck you and your inconsistent hours
making a God damn yoyo out of me, buck you and your bonuses,
buck you and your preposterous training videos and ridiculous high school uniforms,
buck you and the belittling psychological questionniares connected to your applications,
buck you and your little managerial conclaves
which produce absurd machinations targeting the hourly employees
that make the place profitable,
wipe your cracks with your silly 'write ups' and legal circumspection bull-slit,
I am not your 'bro.' or 'buddy' , and I sure as shout am not your 'honey' ,
not today, not anymore
I will not allow you to treat me as a tool for your benefit,
I will no longer work faster so that you can save money & leave earlier,
you will no longer be permitted to laugh at me without redress,
you are now dealing with a Man, not just another employee number,
don't worry 'boss', I'll continue to work, I'm not gonna 'quit' ,
but I will not work for you, I am going to work with you,
today is a New Day -
J.A.B. Dedicated to all hard working Men and Women -
Building castles in the air,
Gold and diamonds everywhere;
You were the brightest stars in your own skies
In empty space you built your dreams
Behind computer screens
You rode in long expensive cars
Drank in all the trendy bars
As all the while you lied and bet
Against the ones who'd hoped to get
A piece of our communal pie;
They bought your homes and you bought the lie.
It was all an inside job
Pulled by a faceless mob
Of bankers, lawyers and their ilk.
It was all an inside job
By a thoughtless, greedy mob
Of men who rob the poor to sleep on silk.
Smoking candles, fallen flowers
Foreclosed homes and broken hours -
This is the aftermath of what you've done,
Games ill played, once begun.
The rich get richer
Though they've painted us the picture
Of what happens when you set the weasels free.
They've no concern for you or care for me
Or the discrepancies we see;
Should be enough for us that they should always be.
No ones' punished, no one pays,
They remain complacent in their ways.
It was all an inside job
Staged by an untouched mob
Of bankers, lawyers and their ilk.
It was an inside job
Perpetrated by the mob
Of men who rob the poor and sleep on silk.
So now this evil season
Has descended without reason
As the sheep will stand and wait
To receive their unearned fate.
I hope you're proud, you sleep at night
While masses live by candlelight
May your riches find you lone and cold
When you find yourself frail and old
When no one mourns your passing days
When none thought loyal will ever stay
To watch with you all through the coming gloom
That pushes you, alone, into your tomb.
Castle building in the air
Gold and diamonds everywhere;
The brightest stars will dim away
Replaced by others, other days.
So it goes, the inside job
Brought off by the black suited mob
The bankers, lawyers and their ilk.
The framers of the inside job
That heartless, faithless, grasping mob
Will one day drown, beneath a sea of silk.
1 Billion Rising.
For Men Everywhere.
Stop! Listen! Think! Act!
Stop!
Stop the abuse!
Of grand-daughters,
colleagues,
daughters,
girlfriends,
partners,
mothers,
sisters,
nieces,
wives,
all women.
Listen!
Listen to the voices!
Of grand-daughters,
colleagues,
daughters,
girlfriends,
partners,
mothers,
sisters,
nieces,
wives,
all women.
Think!
Think of how you treat,
grand-daughters,
colleagues,
daughters,
girlfriends,
partners,
mothers,
sisters,
nieces,
wives,
all women.
Act!
Act now to change yourself!
Stop! Listen! Think! Act!
The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,
stops when you stop,
the violence,
the abuse,
the rape.
Stop! Listen! Think! Act!
The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,
is perpetrated by,
grand-fathers,
colleagues,
boyfriends,
husbands,
nephews,
brothers,
partners,
fathers,
uncles,
men,
all men.
Stop! Listen! Think! Act!
The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,
stops when us men stop,
The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,
today, now.
Stop! Listen! Think! Act!
Form:
The kids are playing in the park
It's late afternoon, but not yet dark
Time for one last game of hide and seek
"Everybody hide and nobody peek".
One little girl stops on the grass to tie her shoe
She has to hurry before they find her to
Suddenly a shadow falls over her
She looks up to find a strangers face
"Hello little girl", the man says with a grin
"Would you like me to help you win"?
"I'm not allowed to talk to strangers Mommy says"
He reaches out and takes her hand
"Well ", he says "My name is Sam"
Now that we have met, your Mommy wouldn't object
"I guess your right", she says with a smile on her face
And she lets him guide her to a hiding place
Within an hour, everyone is searching the park
She hasn't come home and now it's dark
They search and search, but to no avail
Her Mother is frightened and very pale
The police arrive and comb the woods
A short distance in,
The search dog Buddy
Makes a very grizzly discovery
They find her lying on the ground
Her tiny body bent and bound
Her panties down around her knees
The horrific scene covered in leaves
Her Mom sees the ambulance by the woods
She arrives in time to see her beloved daughter
Being carried in a black bag thru the trees
The shock and pain bring her to her knees
Her tears rage, "Oh My God, how can this be,
It was only a game, who whould want to hurt my child?"
She shakes her head, her eyes gone wild
"Dear God, please no, don't let this be, please, please,
bring her back to me"!
A few days later in a little church graveyard
She buries her only child
Her anger burns deep within
For the person who perpetrated this sin
She prays to the Lord for justice to prevail
As the casket is lowered to the ground
She prays that he will soon be found
Across town on that very day
The children are playing in the park
It's late afternoon, but not yet dark
A man approaches another one and extends his hand
"Hello", he says "My name is Sam"!
A crime was never perpetrated.
His sentence underestimated.
A life concealed beyond their view.
An innocent man nobody knew.
He died when no one came around.
They lied so truth was never found.
An empty heart became his home.
Where he now writes another poem.
The world keeps turning and changing course.
From our tomorrow's, you can't divorce.
Even if God brings you home.
Someone else will write a poem.
We have no choice but to go on.
Remembering the one's who've gone.
And with each fiber of our being.
It's them, we hope we will be seeing.
Blessed be our love that God connected us with. Amen.
I walked out today with a different dream than I woke up from
I went to bed last night with nothing but illusions
I guess it’s safe to say there is no freedom
Just when I thought I was free to carry my dreams with me
I awoke
They said the opportunities lie ahead
Yet further I walk, more barriers I climb
I thought I could take a stand for something
Something meaningful
That was before I realized we have no control like they do
We are contained.
Contained to a point where we believe everything they say
We only comply with their way
Cause we live on their turf
Bless it shall be the land of the free
Where freedom freely comes with a price
And Christmas if not white is no holiday
It’s their way or no way
Be blessed and stay blessed
Where gang is permitted when it only hurts the minorities
White-collar crime I hear, Is it colored white?
Or white colored perpetrated?
I rest my case
That would be improper for me to be improper
In these lines, I don’t condone any isms.
Let’s take a deeper look! Let’s dig deeper…
Look!
Nations and riches are built at the weak’s expense
Think! Who’s the weakest?
They tie you up with words, minorities, slaves…
While you shackle yourself and play the part
You’re blinded form the big picture.
So come buy your freedom,
And build what’s yours.
Corporate Greed
Corporate greed has turn the tides
White collar thieves are on the rise.
Bail out pleas for companies on their knees,
economic meltdowns caused by Ponzi schemes .
Investors now in total confusion, after realizing
they'd chased riches illusions.
Mortgage collapse, first blamed on the poor,
lies and greed perpetrated by corporate whores,
constantly scamming for more and more.
Financial calamity, brought on by greedy insanity
banks running on blanks.
whistle-blowers got frank,
sophisticated criminals jetting off with pals ,
at times treating hard-working employees less than
their animals.
Off to prison they should all go , just like anyone else
that steal that much dough.
Corporate greed is on the rise , check your investments
and be wise.
It started when I was a child
I was a kid with a gift
That no one understood or recognized
Instead of loved I was picked on and ostracized
However I blocked it all out
But little by Little its all coming back
Like layers of an onion
That held me tightly wrapped
Bits and pieces of my memory
That were hidden away in code
Deep within my mind a door was closed
I?ve reached in to remember because my life is now in jeopardy
All the emotional and sexual abuse that I closed off to survive
Has been staring at me sabotaging my life
This life is not what I have dreamed and I am dying inside
And if I don?t face the truth of what was done to me
Then I will surely become the monster that I despise
And as the tears bellow up
I again take another breath
Like soot in a fireplace and a hair ball in a cat
I cough up the toxic memories
As images flash through my mind
With my face in the toilet I begin to cry
My body begins to stiffen as nausea rises to the top
I then begin to wail from deep in my chest
It?s a hideous cry that sends chills down my spine
As I grit my teeth and hang on for dear life
A thought runs through my mind why.. why.. why.. why.
I?m tired of the black outs
I?m tired of the fear
I?m tired of the loneliness that have held me prisoner here
I?m tired of the pain and suffering that has come in my parents name
I?m tired of all the trauma and I?m tired of all the drama
I?m tired of the neglect that?s been perpetrated on my soul
Keep your hands off of me, keep your beliefs away from me
From all the mental abuse and all the negative remarks
And you still don?t see how you?ve damaged my sensitive heart
I?m tired of hearing all the denial
I?m tired of hearing how there is nothing wrong with you
I?m tired of you blaming everyone else but you
I?m tired of hearing how you hate this and you hate that
I?ve tried for years to heal this wound
But it seems to have spread to my nephew too
I don?t know what else to do
I even ruined my only serious relationship to get revenge
In my mind I justified their crime
From all the bad advice and all the dysfunctional decisions
And I thought I was reversing everything
When I vowed never to get married and have kids
But that sabotaging act has done me more damage
From the year of Eighteen ninety,
survives a sad birthday tale.
As told by Private John Burnett,
eighty years old when it was told.
Of needless deaths of Cherokee,
inflicted by relocation.
In Eighteen hundred thirty eight,
President Jackson did decree,
all the Cherokee must move west,
and give up their lands to white men.
Even though he, Junaluska,
had saved Jackson’s life in battle.
On chill morning of October,
six hundred forty five wagons,
took the twelve thousand Indians.
Chief John Ross led all in prayer.
They were literate, Christians all,
with written language, newspaper,
and Constitution like our form.
Morning, November seventeen,
terrible storm of sleet and snow.
No fire to warm the ground below.
Dying of pneumonia from the cold,
a trail of death, four thousand souls.
Heart wrenching grief for those alive.
Eighteen ninety, still near the deed.
Too near for young people to know,
the enormity of the crime.
“Murder is murder however,
or whomever perpetrated.
By the villain skulking at night,
or to martial music by day.”
“Murder is murder and who answers.
Who must explain the streams of blood,
flowing through Indian country.
Who will mourn the four thousand graves,
which silently are trail markers.
I wish I could forget it all.
Thus ends my birthday story here.”
Based on a true record of John Burnett’s story of his life with
the Cherokee and his accompaniment on “The Trail of Tears”.
© May 14 2010 For Deborah’s” theme of western movement” contest
I am a writer. The odds are in your favor that I bet you may be a writer as well. It isn't that extremely bold of claim. I type. I text. I make words. Words make me. Make up my inner most amazing molded version of myself.
I write with conviction. Words are the convict. Perpetrated as is, words are like magic. Illusive words are. Words are illusions. Illusions may be a little on the wordy side. I stand side by words. Words stand as is, by me. That is super simple for possessive intent by a random you. I stand by my self claim of written evidence of many wordy phrases.
I would, personally, in a social setting, find it nearly impossible to self compose a suicide…
Why do I need to limit easy answers?
That is just my style. Likewise I withhold little to every(none-thing).
If I made it cut and dry then why would I waste our time in its composure.
I'm busy so a summary will conclude.
I write as personal therapeutic release.
In the act of writing a suicide letter. I would write myself right out of that idea.
I would just pull the trigger and leave a photo bomb of some (none-thing)
Suicide all letters are not 26 and z.
They are forever 27 and lmnop.
Picture me writing.
In the act of writing a suicide letter
In the court of public opinion
I am just an average minion
I've seen so much abuse
Quite tempting to be a recluse
Among our political division
Red, White and Blue is receding
perpetual sarcastic incisions
promoting further divisions
I understand the stakes
and the great restraint it takes
just don't let your call to action
encourage further infraction
Peaceful protest is our right
Destruction of property
Only adds to blight
multiplying citizens fright
Of all the wars perpetrated
brother against brother
at all costs, should be abated
when that hate is germinated
You become your enemy
regurgitated
I understand the stakes
and the great restraint it takes
just don't let your call to action
encourage further infraction
RED WHITE AND BLUE
We Love You
125wd
Others have fallen,
publicly shame slain by the Me Too sword
Men of high society pedigree,
reduced to outcast leprosy members only
And the rave wave rage of women’s anger rises
against heifer treatment by male baboons,
perpetrated on them since the beginning of time
Now is a dangerous time for
testosterone predation
But, low priests of the phallic order
bless the foul practitioners of
lewd, misogynist behavior disorder
They serpent sway in hypnotic bliss
to the charmer’s sound ...
erogenous vibrations
sensually stimulate their injustice scales
They follow the Pied Piper blindly,
lemmings going over the cliff
But the cult idol is unmoved by their dying worship
The high priest of chaos theology
remains untouchable
His hands violate feminine flesh
with no repercussions
His hurtful words are
loathsome macho rat bait for feline debate —
that which he violates is that which he hates
Giving erect denials,
though taped confessions are heard,
he smiles with disdain ...
Untouchable is his favorite word
FBI ... fuggit ‘bout it
He wickedly wonders why everybody
is making a big deal out of it
Thinking of women as mere cattle,
who were made to sacrifice their bodies
for his ravenous carnal desires
A sperm wolf moving among the ova herd,
he howls with tweet glee ...
Untouchable is his favorite word
He boastfully mocks the fallen,
calling them men of weak pedigree
Mongrels of male impotency
Untouchable ... impervious to all
his mortal enemies
He believes his dog treatment of women,
gave him the canine path to a teflon presidency
I’m calling you out!
Many ‘came and went,’ but after George Floyd, I thought it was done;
Now, two more possibly got hanged, and another, shot with a gun.
‘Black disrespect’ is real! In the midst of protesting over the same;
These ‘white’ cops perpetrated this undeniably racist act once again.
I couldn’t believe it; their actions were, brazen, brash and so blatant;
What about the ‘moot’ “Protect and Serve,” despicable public servant.
What is this grievous genocidal trend – when will this nightmare end?
How long will we be brutally broken – until there’s nothing left to mend?
Imagine; I quote; “You scared me man, because you were sleeping in the car;”
As an appropriate and valid reason or excuse; that is fetched way too far.
The suspect is drunk; scuffled with the cops and then fled from them terrified;
Then, the ‘scared’ cops shot Rayshard Brooks; and this deadly act they justified.
Every good citizen; as well as, criminals have Rights, under the Constitution;
Unfortunately, ‘Blacks’ are not rendered those rights; and it’s no new revelation.
So, when!?! When will the infringement on our rights be rectified, with equity?
Whom!?! Who will be bold enough to willfully act and change this travesty?
End
By: Dion Penville