Best Poorest Poems
Jesus gives me directions
To love as He has loved
With a sincere compassion
That knows no conditions
This love of His has no limits
It goes beyond worry and strife
It fills the heart with a joy…
That can only be expressed in rebirth
This love of His has a purpose
To give generously, without constraint
With a true sensitivity to the feelings…
That someone else has felt
This love of His has been given
To bring salvation to the sinner
Reaching into a wretched heart…
And bringing about a complete surrender
This love of His holds the answers
To every question we might ask,
Creates a sense of peace on the inside
That could never compare to another serenity
This love of His sends us promises
That our greatest fears will be overcome
By the assurance that no harm can arise…
For those who trust in God’s only Son
This love of His mends what is broken
Whether it be a heart or a spiritual pain
It restores the one who feels shattered…
With a promise of true hope and faith
This love of His succeeds where nothing else can
Pleading victory from these nail scarred hands
Reaching down to the poorest, lost sinner
And giving a new life, a new way, a second chance.
This love of His is worth more than millions
No amount of money can possibly buy it
Through grace, it is eternal salvation sent to us
Who simply have the faith to accept Him
~Not Like Me~
When you were first put into my arms,
I begged God, to make you nothing like me
For my sins, ask for no transformation
This is my song, my meditation
Look at my face
Where has it gone,
You no longer desire to be part of my song
Look at my life,
The toll hasn't been paid
I'm the one suffering every day
The vengeance of eternal flames,
sit near the empty heart
Burning my needs to hold you once more,
I need you more than you'll ever know
Now, Look at me, at the age of 73
I have nowhere to go
Everyone I know awaits in a place of gold
Unlike you, you're too busy, proud and bold
------ A different song!!!
I sing a song, that accentuates the mind,
I have no one to blame, I neglected all the signs
Hoping the rain would slowly die off
Today here I lay, wondering where I went wrong
I implored God, to cause you nothing like me
I have a heart that forgives and tries to forget
I kneel, and I give, and I treat others with respect
My compassion, I measured in the poorest way
I judged my life worse than the others did
Why did I ask ---- Not Like Me!
For my sins, ask for no translation
This is my song, my speculation
The dreaded conclusion of this song,
All I can say is, "Be careful what you ask for."
In the end, all I can say, I got what I asked for
Someone, who's Not Like Me......................
By: PD
We loved the lollipops, cracker jacks, and Holloway candy sticks. We adored the chocolate-coated ice cream bars and the tootsie rolls.
We could not get enough of pop sickles, cool aids, and soda pops.
We sang a love song saying, “Ice cream, soda water, cream on top, tell me the name of your sweetheart”. We had the best-tasting cookies and cigarette candies that eyes had ever seen. We were just poor kids in America’s poorest state, but no kids were sweeter than us. Hot as fire, hassled and harassed by humidity and drops of sweat; but we were sweet, not from
our good-natured personalities but from the sweets that we ate.
Life was hard in my little Mississippi Delta town; But somewhere between hard work and chores; between feeding the chickens and the cows; between feeding the goats and the hogs; between watching TV and doing homework;
between the sun ups and the Sundowns; and between the dawn and the dust;
Yes, in between, we found time to play. Most times we were okay, didn’t go astray, and had lots of fun in the barns, playing in the hay.
We rolled rubber tires like we were driving fast cars; laughed out loud as we sucked whining balls. Money was always lacking, but we did our share of licking, chewing, and sucking the sweet stuff. We bought a lot for the few pennies, nickels, and dimes that we had. We could buy our treats cheaply back then. So, we did our best to stay sweet, chewing bubble gum filled with sugar. We didn’t have a care and learned how to share, and the sweet stuff was always there. 013008PSContest, Childlike Fun, Caren Krutsinger, 2P
I'm only allowed the names of three
so I will write of those that would be for me.
There are so many that this is unfair
but, since that is the rule I must list there:
Carolyn Devonshire who gave me the courage to write
with her words of encouragement on this site.
She always found a "silver lining" in my work,
and never told me that I write like a jerk.
Tho it has been years since I've been around
her help and inspiration never set me aground.
She never left me twisting in the wind alone
as she helped my poorest works to hone.
There is also a Poet Destroyer for whom I have praise
I wish my words to her level I could raise.
Why her "Poet Destroyer" pen name I could never see
unless, of course, you compare mine to her poetry.
Mine is crushed by the words she can write
but I am ever grateful to her for wanting to put mine to flight.
When you have a writer who can put you to shame,
it's only natural that you want to do the same.
CayCay Jennings is my third choice
as she has helped me to "refind" my voice.
I appreciate her critiques of the work I do
all I can give is a big "THANK YOU".
She was one of the first to welcome me back here
and always gave me words of good cheer.
Her suggestions have been given with such grace
sometimes they put a smile on my face.
There is her writing which is also so stellar
as compared to mine, some of which belong in a cellar.
Some of the things she has written down
Have with me, a deeper meaning found.
So these are the three heroes that I must name
but so many more have done the same.
Not only are there poets whose names I could not call
to give them the honors they should have one and all.
Yes, I have heroes here unnamed
because my pen had to be tamed.
But know that I appreciate each and all that you do
Whenever I write, I'm thinking of you.
written: 10/30/15
Thru maritime miles of minions in motion
We hedge our opinions while pledging devotion
To serving the Captain and sharing our smiles
Through barrels of onions and flea-bearing trials
But even the pirates who pose in a rumble
Are learning the merits of those who are humble
The path of our choosing where sinning is pleasure
Is better for losing than winning a treasure
I plunged overboard when I soared off a plank
At the point of a sword and a sore lady's prank
The captain's first mate made her daddy agree
That my fate was a date with the fish in the sea
I knew she was baiting my body at brunch
To catch me in waiting and serve me for lunch
All pirates are worthy to fish and to feast
But no one should make me a dish for a beast
From well on the brink to a splash in the sink
I fell in a flash for a female fink
I knew she was watching me fall in the tank
And laughing discreetly with Daddy to thank
I should have resisted the words that she said
But when she persisted they went to my head
I told her I loved her but so did my mate
Who never returned from his very first date
It seems bloody retching but fatefully true
When somebody fetching is fatal for you
You flee from the danger but fractured you find
That pretty young stranger has captured your mind
You think she is true but you never can tell,
Her saltwater stew is a bitter farewell,
A mob in her keep is the poorest of help,
Who force you to leap in a forest of kelp,
Though mad as an adder I drifted from reach
To bob like a bladder in search of a beach
The Great White beside me was my willing host
To have me for dinner and eat me the most
Then something resembling a storm with a tail
Came surging at me in the form of a whale
I lost my composure and when I passed out
She tossed me all over to sit on her spout
Upon this brave lady who skirted the water
I fled for my life from the ship captain's daughter
She brought me to land on the girth of her blubber
To flip me ashore like a lousy landlubber
From deep in the sea to a seat by a seal
The freedom I keep is a cheap kind of deal
The beach that I sleep on is sunny and hot
So happy to be where my honey is not...
Don't know if human's will ever see
every soul born, is right where it's meant to be
For the rich to become the richest
there has to be a place for the poorest
The entire world is built up from the same level of dirt
each soul is born without knowledge to cause hurt
Humanity teaches us what a human's life is worth, by money and glory
I am to believe all lives are priceless, every soul fit's to tell Earth's story
The luckiest to be born, is that of a poor man
he learn's the treasures, of everything he can
Those born into all riches, have no true understanding of richness
seeing us not as human's, but those living in poverty as an illness
Love start's from the soul, and from there it is taught to grow
the rich find another kind of love, one only brought with dough
Love, trust, compassion and grace defining the difference in richest and wealth
t'is the beggar off the street, who climbs the toughest road to earn his wealth
He is the most blessed man, he is rewarded with the most valuable key
for his wealth is humanly uncountable, for only God know's the value of he...
H A T E
~I have no room to hide
the only way is to die~
I hate this world
I hate all it's made of
I lost the love inside
You are nothing but a joke,
the way you came into my life.
Why do you keep us from the truth
God do you not love us
Why do you insist on these bruises and wounds
Do you not care about the pain and the scars
Trick us with the vanity of the flower
Shower us with the poorest rain
My God where's your power
Do I also have to die for his name
Drown because of everyone else sin
All I wanted was to believe in love
Instead I opened a book of torment
What did I do to you
Why do I feel the battle is with me?
how did i get raped with hate
What happen to the wings
Why do I feel as if we are all bait
a world of no balance, I hate
I retaliate on my own hate
True love is a program even you deny
I hate the hate you put upon this world
A hate the look of poverty
resent- IS ME!
confusing the heart to feel nothing
I can't bring my self to need you
You never protected me when in need
You left me suffering alone through the deepest sea
the desert swallowed my dearest mirage
you let me down, to many times
I hate that i still talk to you
the emotions are destroyed
do you laugh at my beating pulse
you created many Nations
Meaning you gave hate to this world
making us different in every race
who else has a key of power to your master plan
I m not blind no more
I see things, the way he wants me to see
with truth you hide from me
I hate the way this world rotates
I hate the flavor of it all
I was told i was created by your hands
Not Satan's evil ways
God I hate the world you made
Why rest us in a place of love
S.K.A.T.
Mother Teresa
She is the mother of every poor people, injured people, ordinary people...
Always we remember the great news
'Mother Teresa will get the Nobel Peace Prize.'
It was one of the best moment in our life...
She lived in our city Kolkata (Calcutta) .
She ate our Bengali foods.
She loved us so much...
One day, I was twelve years old
I met her at Mother House along with my parents.
I looked at her heavenly eyes.
I touched her sacred feet and hands.
I heard her divine speeches.
I love her innocent smile.
I told her only the sentences,
'You are the mother of the world,
Mother of my parents.
So you are my grandmother.'
My father hesitated. My mother was silent.
Mother Teresa said to me with smile,
'GOD BLESS YOU MY SON'
Today my eyes are full of tears
Mother, I miss you.
I love you so much....
SANDIP GOSWAMI, INDIA
(Mother Teresa founded the Missionaries of Charity, a Roman Catholic religious congregation, which in 2012 consisted of over 4,500 sisters and is active in 133 countries. They run hospices and homes for people with HIV/AIDS, leprosy and tuberculosis; soup kitchens; dispensaries and mobile clinics; children's and family counselling programmes; orphanages; and schools. Members of the institute must adhere to the vows of chastity, poverty and obedience, and the fourth vow, to give "wholehearted free service to the poorest of the poor".
Mother Teresa was the recipient of numerous honours including the 1979 Nobel Peace Prize. In 2003, she was beatified as "Blessed Teresa of Calcutta". A second miracle credited to her intercession is required before she can be recognised as a saint by the Catholic Church.)
Night has come, the fog is slowly wreathing
Crying soft, a form is moving forward
Now she walks through mist, 'tween shadows seething
Past the ancient walls she pushes onward
Mid the shrouded stones she pours her sorrow
Crying soft, a form is moving forward
Now she weeps amid a ruined palace
*Starting when the distant forest trembles
Comfort is not nigh to ease her sorrow
In her hands she bears a broken chalice
She that once was rich is now the poorest
Starting when the distant forest trembles
Deep within the shadows of the forest
Wars were fought that changed her life forever
She that once was rich is now the poorest
How could men her castle cruelly sever?
Night has come, the fog is slowly wreathing
Wars were fought that changed her life forever
Now she walks through mist, 'tween shadows seething
Day is dawning
Light scatters shadows
What hope will morning bring?
- *Starting is a sudden motion or spasm caused by being alarmed. -
- The part of this poem that is in Terzanelle form is also Trochaic Pentameter, meaning that it is ten syllables per line and alternating between a stressed and unstressed syllable the whole way through. -
- First place in contest, "Terzanelle Fantasy with a Questionku Chaser".
A child with twisted limbs and a smile;
displays a faith he's held from the start.
Although every day is a trial,
he praises God with all of his heart.
It's hard to believe.
A wino quotes from the book of God,
proclaiming that Jesus has saved him.
And proves faith roots in the poorest sod
under God's light, no matter how dim.
He came to believe.
A boy from the ghetto learns to steal;
settling fights with a knife or a gun.
And yet, his Mom prays before each meal;
thanking God for the gift of her son.
She needs to believe.
I see how the forgotten and poor
are desperately struggling to cope.
Yet, despite fate closing every door,
their unwavering faith gives them hope.
They choose to believe.
Behind all the rhetoric, I find:
I wish to be loved and understood.
And in my soul or subconscious mind,
there's an innate desire to do good.
I want to believe.
Devils Fill Churches
Say the ones from outside
I, on the other hand find sanctuary
From liberals who tell me how I must think
I only wish peace, good will and a wee bit of gods drink
I open my arms
I hug the entire world
I know there is evil and I know there is good
The paths are many, and I love those who see
Is not the path, but the destination and the destiny
I know I am human
I know I have sinned
I know that we all are made up of same universal cloth
I know, I know nothing, nothing at all
Other than kindness and to love others big or small
Like brothers and sisters together we stand tall
I am humbled when I see the poorest of humanity
Offer me comfort and his only blanket
I may not know what is up there in the stars
I know that kindness is never wrong here or on Mars
I love science and knowledge
I love the diversity of life
Yet some call me evil without ever knowing
The inner beauty in us all, that in the dusk of the evenings
You can see nature’s gifts and the universe still dreaming
Faith you see in not about gods calling
Faith is about the goodness of all of us collectively
Humanity
From sea to see
I fear most Church steeples are drowning in sin
And like Country Clubs, cater to folks acting part,
Way too holy for sinner, too blessed to be sick,
Always blaming the victim, God’s grace a lost art.
The rich are the only ones sure of God’s love!
Though it's faux pas, reflection might still do them good.
In the poorest of sinners who wishes you well,
God embraces true saint for he's done all he could!
The rich overconfident, poor in the dumps,
God gets lost in the shuffle of privilege and blame
But the judgment of others is sin for us all,
Being rich can’t buy Halo, the poor own no shame.
If I attend church then because it is grand
Tell me how do I know I’m not worshiping wealth?
God's Word taught to grow riches or enrich the heart?
Does disciple need palace's comforts for health?
Collecting vast wealth just to hoard is a sin!
How’d you come by your talents, if not gift from God?
Do you find the best way or trust God for a plan?
Those who wait on the Lord feel OK being odd!
To find the right church though is simple in fact -
Humble is the right track, “Son of God” the right train!
You were loved long before His creation began,
Only sick people welcome, "God’s Grace" Church refrain.
Long Tooth
May 13, 2017
Golden Roses
...to one who has faith, no explanation is necessary...to one without faith, no explanation is possible...Thomas Aquinas.
Roses side by side where the grotto stood
A golden garden not seen by their eyes
Bernadette could see as she gathered wood
Kneeling upon hearing of heaven’s cries
A Lady did appear in rose bush wild
A seraphic voice with no deception
With a white dress and girdle gently smiled
‘I am the Immaculate Conception’
For the town of Lourdes was quick to demean
Sadly scoffed as the poorest peasant girl
She dug a hole and a well would canteen
To make believers of the crippled churl
Bernadette let your song of roses hum
Upon this let processions hither come.
Aug.17.2018
New Sonnets Only
Only English Sonnets Are Acceptable
(Fourteen lines, ten syllables per line - abab cdcd efef gg rhyming scheme.)
Sponsored by: Emile Pinet
Video clip from the movie"The Song of Bernadette"
N/A for contest
I wish to inform all citizens that I am hereby calling symposia. The battle against repression has been won and the war is over.
Very noble ideas will be initiated which you will soon discover.
The King ordered me to organize a conference to create a utopia.
The highest level judge, come and share some kingdom laws. A representative of commerce will address the economy. King Issaquena desires his people to feel secure and free, and for them to realize he demands liberty and justice for all.
The sheriff, the mayor, and the chief of police, I bid you come. The poorest person in the county, come boldly and be strong. Bring your stories and be seated at the table where you belong. The most acknowledged musician, come and sing us a happy song.
09112018PoSoupContest, Symposia Poetry, Julia Ward
Enclosed Rhyme, abba abba abba 3 stanzas, 4 lines each, 12 total lines
Let's reflect on
being mortal, and spiritual beings.
Between the pain and confusion
life offers, and the finality of death:
we find faith, hope, trust, and love.
We're endowed with emotions, consciousness,
and a conscience;
which fuels the human heart:
buttressing the poorest foundations,
to carry the weight
of higher expectations.
Miracles only happen
to those who believe in miracles.
Looking back in time:
often shows us a distorted image of reality:
a collection of brutal truths and outright lies,
filtered through the passage of time.
And while bigotry cannot erase yesterday's shadow,
it can alter tomorrows',
by penciling in the shadows of today.
History's jagged edges
cut as deeply as any knife;
draining the heart of love,
and the soul of hope.
Skin color is a human obsession:
God is color-blind,
as is Man's best friend: the dog!