Best Pick And Choose Poems
Acute power or a mystical virtue?
Not daring to venture further
Became superstitious by token and sign,
Leaving the most positive meanings behind
Ends with a 3 that reminds me of the trinity
A belief that kept within
All good things comes in double,
You're not alone just behind 1
Together you became 13 an age in certain
Tradition when a boy became a man
Among the many numbers
People pretends you came out the worst
even saying that you are a curse
But besides all others, you came first
Ignorance do hurts,
So they put you behind as a negative sign
Thinking of you makes me enjoy
The intricacies of mental calculates
A million seconds in 13 days,
13 stripes for thirteen states
A Friday 13 in every year
Again let me be a bit humoristic
Since I'm in love with mathematics
For those who calculates well,
Come let me play with your head
Close your eyes using the power of your mind
Pick and choose which power hidden inside you
The clock strike 13 hours, the mind reminds
us that it's 1 'o' clock,
infact we're back at the starting block
Since things became a mystery we tend
Not to go beyond our senses
13 is a number that all human share
The 13 major joints in our body
13 lunar cycles in a solar year
And the moon travels 13 degrees across the sky everyday
Making things works in a mysterious way.
By kelleyana junique.
God is eternal always and forever(a)
has no beginning and will have no end
in His holy word has revealed Himself
to be God almighty our forever friend
One can never know God too well
so daily exposure to God's living word(b)
is a real necessity to grow in grace
to neglect His word is truly absurd
Learning biblical meditation is so vital(c)
to chew on God's truth to deeply intake
grasping His truth and all it means
feeding on God's word for my soul's sake
Taking your Lord with you everywhere
never be embarrassed by what anyone says
keeping in step with His eternal word
be faithful to Jesus all your days(d)
Consider well my reading of the scriptures(e)
to depend on the holy spirit's direction(f)
be sure I'm walking in Jesus holy steps(f)
aim always listen to His gracious correction
(Bible references :
(a) Psalm 90: 2
(b) Joshua 1: 8
(c) Psalm 19: 14
(d) Deuteronomy 7: 9
(e) Psalm 1: 2
(f) Romans 15: 13)
I've written this after pondering on the following appraisal of knowing God and whether if I really do?
Have you read the Bible from cover to cover? Is the Holy Spirit your teacher? Are you walking in His footsteps?
The Word of God is not a buffet for us to pick and choose what we wish. God is the Word, so do you honestly love all of it and meditate on it with the goal of knowing Him so you can live according to His commandments while you abide in Him?)
We see them sitting in towers
carved from ‘learned’ ivory,
insulated by their tenure
from the world of reality,
poisoning their students minds,
putting bad ideas in their heads,
the kind that in a century
left one hundred million souls dead.
They know they face no consequence,
they even blacklist all others,
it’s the students who pay the cost,
in the real world they all suffer
for imbibing leftist nonsense
that they learned at academy,
betrayed by malign professors,
by ‘elites’ who are not elite.
We see them strutting in Hollywood,
convinced that their fame is greatness,
they want us to watch ever film,
yet our values they dismiss.
Thinking they’re on the cutting edge,
and the we’re all just inbred proles,
they think that lying well on film
makes them the people in the know.
Yet most of them have more spouses
when most people have fingers,
all their rapes are upsetting,
the pedophilia disturbs.
Once called the city of angels,
now just a Sodom on the sea,
a mess of ruined human souls,
an ‘elite’ who are not elite.
Glance upon the creative scenes,
you’ll find many more of this kind,
like the ‘artist’ who wants thirty grand
for a spray-painted orange rind!
Or maybe the plotless writer
who calls it ‘literary fic,’
bad characters just moaning on
about how they’re damaged and sick.
Don’t forget today’s architect
with his swiss-cheese ‘masterpiece,’
it’s supposed to be a building,
nut I looks like concrete feces.
I wouldn’t take any of this
even if given out for free,
they’re making all art hideous,
these ‘elites’ who are not elite.
Then there are all of the blowhards
who make up the modern news,
thinking that you will only see
the things that they pick and choose.
When any man with internet
can see through their partisan crap,
and lord do they get all annoyed
when you call them out on that.
If they cannot win they censor
and double down on their madness,
the idea that they can’t control us
is one they cannot stomach yet.
Those fools will tell me it’s raining
while I walk down a sunny street,
it is far time we tear them down,
damned ‘elites’ who are not elite.
A story in The Times about
Admittance into clubs
Discussed the people who’d get in –
No luck for average schlubs.
You have to dress in certain clothes
And have the right cachet;
If not, you’ll not get past the rope,
No matter what you say.
What really got to me the most,
Describing women’s dress,
Was mentioning the shoes they’d need
To guarantee success.
Of course, they must be “Christians” -
That’s Louboutins, soled in red;
Or else Manolo Blahniks
May be strutted in, instead.
In either case, the shoes should have
No less than five-inch heels!
I wonder if the bouncer at the club
Knows how that feels.
‘Cause even in my younger days,
When cool styles I’d embrace,
If I wore five-inch heels, I’d end up
Flat upon my face!
I hate the whole idea of clubs
Where bouncers pick and choose
The patrons they’ll allow inside –
Based solely on their shoes!
You can pick and choose your friends,
who is true who is pretend
Who needs you then they leave you
If it suits them
then refuse them
Are they there
do they care
do they have nerve
do they dare
is it all one way and nothing back
Are they owed a favour broken track
Looping around and using you
never occurring they should too
It’s not time that makes them close
It’s what they do when you lose hope
Do they celebrate your victories
And sit with you through your miseries
When you use up your energy
If they don’t they’re an enemy
Are they quick to point out what they’re owed
they want it paid back what they’ve showed
Think they’re smarter than you are
Push their luck and go too far
Friends aren’t always what they seem
they’re not always what you need
Sometimes you should up and leave
Even if they feel aggrieved
Their probably a victim
If so they are restricting
Time on them but if removed
Time on you sees you improved
Religion binds us in guilt
Using sins it restricts
Religion with its dogmatic doctrines
Feels the need to control everything
Demands we worship at their feet
Expects supplication and blind belief
Encouraging you part with cash
Like that will bring redemption back
No matter how devoted you may be
It doesn't stop them judging harshly you and me
But the truth is I reside in love
When I converse with my God
In my own space and in my own time
God is omniscient by design
So he hears me no matter where I be
And God always watches over me
Hears my wishes and no my dreams
He is never to busy to visit me
I don't need churches, mosques or temples
And I won't be made to fear or tremble
My God is peaceful, forgiving and gentle
My God is everything that is resembled by love
And by compassion and kindness too
I love my God and he loves me too
And he gave me free will to pick and choose
Just how I live my life
He trusts me to live it right
So I struggle each day
To make my God proud each day
So I worship my God in my own unique way.
If our words were carved into our skin,
Like a legacy on a tombstone.
Do you think that people would embrace these words?
Or do you think that they’d try to hone
Their personality.
Attempt to make it better.
Or do you think that they would bury it in a sweater?
Maybe the sweater’s off the shoulder
Where there’s words of hope and care
And maybe, where there’s other kind words
There’s a hole in the sweater there,
Is it fair?
To only show the words that you want
To pick and choose what people see
Even if you can’t change the font.
Do you think that people
Would actually change what they say
When there is an easier way,
You may see good words written on their skin
But you don’t see what’s beneath the jumper
You don’t see what’s within
You may say that’s nice, but this is just a poem
This doesn’t happen to us
But you’d be mistaken
Because,
A camera’s just the same
You don’t get to see what’s outside the frame.
Oh I remember when I thought
I was in control and could see
Then the Lord showed me
How blind I was not being free
Now that He has opened my eyes
I want to cover my eyes
And just listen to His voice
For mostly everything else
Is a bunch of clanging noise
This is for fun I could not resist this picture
But indeed this is how I feel in the deception
Of all that is going on around us that many can't see
To much division and religions to adapt to mankind
The gospel was not intended to pick and choose
To accommodate the corrupt ways of man
But to separate one from their old self and evil desires
Their lustful hearts and minds,
To be changed with the spirit from Christ
Into a new creation with new mind and hearts
Purified of all impurities so He might reign within
The gospel of Paul living in the spirit
Should be what one shall aim for
To have instilled those thoughts and spirit
But I understand we must all try our way first
Hopefully it does not go so good you become
Your own shrine to give praise
I thought my life was going good
Until I began to read the words of Jesus for myself
Then I was in awe of what's going on
Don't pick and choose your words
Careful of the message
Trying to strike the right balance
Making sure everyone's satisfied
I'm beyond all that
I'm in my happy place
Where love has a pretty face
Undefined
No contours or lines
Just a mystery
You're part of my history
But I'm in the now
Don't pick and choose your words
Terms of endearment gone
New nuances and rhymes
Feelings sublime
It's fine
Don't pick and choose your words
It's all good
It's understood
My smile is real
My heart can feel
The truth can be sweet
a welcome treat
Don't pick and choose your words
Just let them flow
Sweet and low
in sparkling glow
lighting where they will
Here's the thrill
I'm alright
My inner light is on
The pain is gone
It's fine!
Don't pick and choose your words
Pick and choose your love
everything else
is just
words
Eileen
Start from the East where all things start,
Delight a feast as shrewd mind arts.
Once in a while, mahjong game styles
Rapport and smiles in crafty piles.
The hurl of dice to start the game,
Brings fond surprise to joust the same.
Mind shifts fond plot in cards and tiles,
Movements now slot what feelings while.
Watch strategy work random moves,
View chemistry in mental grooves.
Each player feeds a certain stance,
Good fortune needs a crafty dance.
Shrewd moves align both path and gaze,
Listen to signs to trek this maze.
Follow the heart as feelings tell
Just how game art can work the spell.
Power cards spring with awesome feel,
Dragons now fling to spread fond thrills.
Pick and choose well the tiles you pile,
Each player dwells as feelings style.
Watch for the break to join each slot,
Each tile helps make the winning lot.
Round after round from eastern shores,
The four poles ground fortune galore.
Each player knows just how to store,
Luck seeds the flow for strokes and more.
Time for bonding in evening air,
Square table rings of piles of flair.
Brief glimpses here of thoughts that come,
Mood swings of cheer and small talk sum.
Happy knows best such easy times,
A poignant rest in sandwiched chimes.
Too soon, too swift, the end game tile,
A cheery drift where fancy styles.
Win, lose or draw but not in vain,
Luck shapes the straws in pleasure's gain.
Leon Enriquez
22 February 2016
Singapore
Funny
I thought I don't like that person
But then I discovered I love her after that
She is my sister-in-Christ
Funny how we go through life
Pick and choose
Distance ourselves to someone
Strifes or something we didn't like
But for one sweet moment we realize
We love that person after all
That is what it is my friend
You love everyone
But even you - don't realize it
God made us like that
Have the capabilities, capacity
- to love someone
Or else He would not have commanded
"love one another" (John 13:34)
We sometimes think
"there is just no way that I love him or her"
But did you know 'you do'?
You just don't know it
He, she would say something
and that would change your mind
If you don't love that person in the first place
there is just no way, right?
I am not talking about romantic love
I am talking about love in general
Love for another human being
Physical, romantic love is a different story
That - you can love only one
Isn't that funny?
I told you "God is funny"
Now do you believe me?
THE DAN KEARLEY I KNOW
I'm unaware of many men
Who can speak their mind by wielding a pen
But I know of one who does it well
It's as though his words cast a spell
He's great at penning words that rhyme
Usually funny, but not all the time
His thoughts can be quite serious and deep
So heartwarming they may make you weep
He knows just how to pick and choose
When he enters a contest, he'll seldom lose
He's a man whom Soupers love dearly
I'm talking about super poet, Mr. Dan Kearley
Curtis Moorman
1 October 2013
So Loudly A Song
Let me start out with these
two interesting lines first
then complete the rest.
If President position were to pick and choose,
Make sure mind never leaves or you ever loose.
Loudly and loyally song started to sing
Out from cocoon baby butterfly did bring
Same old song on guitar started to play
Everyone would when they ran away.
Drank water they made out of tonic
A plague was produced by a Bubonic
Then he became sad and bucolic
Left wife who was an alcoholic.
Of this story what will be the moral?
If you can can-can in long line choral,
Make sure behavior does remain fine;
When performing don't get out of line.
Anything you can do I can do finer;
Sounds like start of a great one liner
Especially if you are in Caroliner
Drinking underage and are a minor.
I will bet your computer screen is
rocking and rolling by now caused
from all of your laughter now and
in the here after.
James Nefarious Needless Horn
Come here they said, we'll keep you happy,
A pair of hands came to touch me,
With a promise of happiness,
To pick something else had left,
I wonder how switching families,
Would make me happy,
But their eyes gleamed a different light,
Shining in support of what they said,
But what about my bed, my toys, my games,
Would they want me to leave this place?
I hace a house already,
A family of 100,
The bed I need, and two meals a day,
Then what about you should fascinate me,
Why would I leave 100 pe to get two,
How and why would you pick and choose,
Out of so many of them,
Why should I come with you,
I am a kid not a commodity,
Let me go,
Just then a pair of hands,
Pulled me into a hug,
A touch, a tear, I haven't felt this way before,
She smiled at me and said words I didn't get,
Looked at me the way I looked at my favourite toy,
And in the blink of an eye, I had decided for life,
That maybe she was taking me like a toy,
But atleast I was her favourite one.
Letters, words, and phrases
Once piled, filed in my brain
Dumped went all the drawers
Words went all askew
Files, unsorted, scattered
Mixed messages now astrew
To this scene I now awaken
Into this dreadful dream
Perplexed and puzzled
Tears now stream
Reasonable realignment
Unfeasible, Unworkable,
Words washed away
Impossible to reach
Imprisoned within
Words from others
Echo in my ears
“Sufferered stroke,” “healing hospital”
Only fuel fears.
Familiar faces
Names don’t know
Smiles and tears
Both do flow
Days now pass
I try to speak
It’s hard to find
The words I seek.
I find only
a
massive
mountain of
tangled terms from
which to pick and choose.
I strain to say the sounds and work the words.
Those around me puzzled, don’t quite understand.
I know ‘things’ and ‘objects,’ on much more
I can’t expand.
Frustrated, Unfulfilled
Feeling strained and stumped
Searching for simple syllables
In massive mounds where they were dumped.
[My husband suffered a stroke on November 15, 2012. His therapist tried to explain to me what aphasia was. As frustrating as it is for the victim to make himself understood, it can be equally frustrating for the caregiver who wants to understand. This poem is my effort to have others understand.]