Best Portfolios Poems
At the flower market
I found spice, holy water,
cobblestoned obsidian dreams,
but no flowers.
The blustery Tuscany day
showed me its underlying graffiti,
incantations of poetica esoterica,
and yet another way
to excavate the mystery.
Nostalgic Roman nights,
Spanish palabras, Sicilian incantations,
idyllic panoramas; promises
enough to purchase the moon.
Such a foolish sacrifice to
fresco up for portfolios in
sanctuaries precious
and profane.
Blowing up things, unfortunately,
Birth’s the printing of endless money.
By Gov’ments and world money makers,
That overwhelm global undertakers.
Yet we cry out that war is unsound,
That it spreads grief and guts all around.
Yet money printed that’s spent on death,
Shamefully gives our markets bad breath.
Which helps to inflate our portfolios,
And house prices rise when their money flows.
Which is a bummer when we are buying,
But when selling our spirits are flying.
That’s the nature of evil Ponzi schemes;
They’re a huge faux dough making machine.
But when interest rates start going higher,
The globalist fear’s become direr.
Yet they’ve pre-planned for any crisis;
Funding Hamas, Hezbollah, and Isis.
So all sides may have weapons for gore,
Creating more dollars; yes, much more!
But faux dough made on printing devices,
Is the main reason for all high prices.
So they help blow up half of creation,
To help lessen that sticky inflation.
But most aren’t aware of the real players,
Who divide and distract behind layers,
With ‘news’ and psyops that raise our ire,
Fooling us to put out the small fires
Oh fie, a poem about money and war,
What is the point of writing this for?
It’s for those with an enquiring soul,
Who care to see that our sons remain whole.
Though countless hours slip away
With memories unregistered
There are moments that define us
By the love and comfort offered
Portfolios filled with kindness
Will take us to a higher plane
Than resumes of apathy
Or PhDs of the inhumane
Some brains are blessed with intellect
To achieve academic height
But spiritual souls rise higher
As we enter the final light
It’s not the gifts we have at birth
But the ones we nourish and grow
By which our value will be judged
And passage to heaven bestowed
Aristotle, who once said, “A flatterer is a friend,
Who is your inferior, or pretends to be so.”
Magician or not, the appraisal we try to defend,
Veneer covered ready, prepare for the overthrow.
And a splint named psychology supports nowt,
Tender are the suspicions, a tourniquet gripped,
That of emotion, a trend compared with doubt,
And complacency set amongst the less equipped.
Human form takes shape of Copernican theory,
Between each other, is the central perspective
Years ahead in terms of mind, yet still we query.
Remaining wary, they’ve listened so corrective.
A glimmer of paradise from that which destined
More positive than rightful, for instance, must,
Be seen as most probable, avoiding a rescind
Of harmonies that quaver a motion. Well, just!
And the motion we speak of, like a whisper,
Eases the tension between people who feather,
The hearing sensation shall understand crisper
Torn between plusses and negatives; whether!
The flatterer is found as the darkest seclusion,
Reflection of them is the question of mystery
A misty environment that forms that illusion
Chronically synchronized a challenge to history,
To beat out the drum of intention, as constant
A theory relating to trust involving apple trees
Has a Newtonian law which shall transplant,
Gravity, attached friends upon a breeze.
In feather-like spirit, the meadow may drift
An illusion that folds from the first dew morn,
With goose bumps that wrinkle a wary shift
Trusts! Where the sugar sweet mentions are born.
That’s what friends are Law, children at heart,
Make-believe portfolios of whimsical worth,
Fasten the button on jumpers, and bonnet apart
When blue summer dye creates umber for earth.
Perceived as a coward on grass that’s not green,
Glass, not a ruby, when trust solves the riddle,
To finish this mantra this causes serene,
Convinced like a Titan’s romance of the fiddle.
Oh! Zeus, need we flutter the discord to ride
The twirls of Hyperion, who teaches the master,
To dance like an ocean and swirl like the tide,
As trust gains momentums avoid the disaster.
Greetings, ladies and gentlemen of the Associated Press.
As you know, our modern world is a chaotic hostile mess,
And we are being overwhelmed by garbage and pollution.
Hyper-Magnetic Technologies (HMTCH) has the dual solution!
Our new hypermagnetic ballistic launcher (HMBL) weapon
Is the latest greatest weapon of mass destruction.
Imagine, if you will, an ongoing heavy barrage
Made up of waste chemicals, and landfill garbage.
For eample, if problems continued with Iraq or Iran,
We could bury in refuse both Bagdad and Tehran.
Their population would give such an outcry
That their governments would fall or be compelled to comply.
Forget about ICBMs or future US invasions--
Garbage will be the ultimate ‘big stick’ for persuasion.
One ten ton HBML Launch
Would be the penultimate sucker punch.
Air Defense Artillery cannot shoot trash down.
All garbage launched will hit the target ground.
Invest now while our stock prices are still low;
We have the signed contacts. Watch your portfolios grow!
“Our own Festival of Youth Sport reminds
us that the potential to achieving the highest
starts with home grown talent.” It's no jest.
Karen works for the Girl Guides, the finest.
She has spina bifida causing weak legs,
And started shooting in the year of 1984,
With the Duke of Edinburgh, open door,
The top award scheme where you core.
Stoke Mandeville introduced her to guns,
And she first shot in 1991 at the Euros,
Which were there with Belgium portfolios,
In the big West Flanders city of Bruges.
Karen made her debut at the Paralympics
Of Barcelona in Spain in the year 1992,
And went on to enjoy more Paras, due:
Three - Atlanta, Sydney and Rio with ado.
She thoroughly enjoyed Operation Raleigh,
Which was a disability trek to two islands,
Over the Atlantic to Turks, Caicos sands,
Where she dived among the coral strands.
I have a dream of affluence.
Of dripping gold and bread..
To feed the mouths of children
Save the hungry from their dread
I have a hope of heaven.
Where the generous are free
To liberate the captives
Where compassion is the key
It's not the stash I'm after.
It's genuinely not.
My rainbow ends with colours
Not some ever roving pot
I have a dream of fruitfulness
That though my days are few
I hope investing wisely,
Is the thing that I can do.
For wealth is not possessions,
Acquisitions, portfolios or stuff.
It's justice, hope, contentment
It's being just enough
It's sharing and it's caring.
It's not a hand-out spree..
It's never so a spotlight
Lands itself on me
Quietly I'll gather
All the will I can
To be the earthly angel
Out to help my fellow man.
So when the curtain closes
As I'm sure it will one day
Those seeds that have been scattered
Bearing fruit to plant an orchard;
Feed the hungry on their way
What are we actually doing day to day?
What is this shallow shuffling we think is our life?
What part of living requires possessions or notoriety?
What reverse inspiration invades us to make us feel doubt or fear?
What is this creative mental creation process?
Whose agenda are we fulfilling?
Why do the few have the power?
Why do they hoard letting the poor suffer?
Who is laughing at man and woman as they watch us split farther from our real
truth?
Who are we seeking approval from with our accomplishments and portfolios?
Who decided to suppress our connectedness to divinity?
Are we marked as less than worthy?
Is this the illusion creating so much havoc within, forsaken original sin?
This is all merely misguided thought afflictions!
Ego’s twisted form of superficial ascension!
Media, Television, food additives, pills all a recipe for mind control potion!
Native American Indians could not see European Ships approaching motion!
Vibrating holograms are the perceived sight sensation!
Our important lives; neural network thought addiction!
Our perception of live, determined by perspective of emotion!
Co creates our personal experience with daily visualizations!
This is why the few rule with much intimidation!
The mind control is wearing off manifesting frustration!
This is why our brothers seek tyranny liberation!
Peaceful wisdom must lead this new demonstration!
Over the days of human herding manipulation!
Just as the dog flees when confronted by the sheep!
Mind freeing love tea is finally being steeped!
Mental discipline is key!
Allows clockwise swirling chakra harmony!
Now I am free to be!
Now I am free to be!
Now I am free to be!
ME!
This boom and bust economy
can take us to extremes,
raise interest rates one quarter point
and see who yells and screams.
Courage is required
when times get mean and hard,
like when a primitive restaurant
won’t take your credit card.
Financial ruin can beckon
to make one squirm and whine,
when Dow Jones takes a tumble
and portfolios are in decline.
Privation looms with losses
emotions saw and whip,
investments shrink a fraction
causing capitol gains to dip.
Trade in a new Mercedes
for merely a Cadillac,
what will people think of you
when they see you driving that?
The tension of the market
never eases or relaxes,
‘cause if Democrats get elected
you might even pay some taxes!
The perils of investing
can lead to loss or gain,
put your trust fund on the line
to play the money game.
S Sorriest type of assessment
T Two answers always sound right; one is author’s idea of more right.
A Assumes we have identical life experiences, exposed to same words
N No one likes them- not the students, teachers or parents
D Do not guess, but what to do when you have no idea whatsoever?
A Assumes students have computer skills and typing skills.
R Ridiculously limited as to what they are measuring
D Depressing to students who do not test well or have test anxiety
I I believe portfolios are a better indicator of student accomplishment
Z Zany questions never asked in real life, strange vocabulary also
E Excellent grade for ten students per school, demoralizing to the others
D Depressing to the student who gets a low score.
T Teachers threatened by their students’ test scores, tied to evaluations.
E Every parent needs to say “No, thank you."
S Students are over-tested before the real test.
T Teachers cringe when they see their students’ test results
S Students feel badly when they get a low score
Grass verge
Blooms swaying
Breezy sparkles;
A wandering stray dog
I see
Moments
Smiles punctuate
This waiting game;
Sudden monsoon downpour
Stranded
Bus stop
Long wait here
Dehydration;
Fondle mobile device
Self-talk
Old place
Nicole Green
Freehold condo;
Once upon a time there
We stayed
Flowers
Plumeria
Red and yellow;
Pathway for a warm stroll
So nice
Darling
There you go
Waltzing my heart;
Purpose, puzzle, passion --
That's love
Dawn light
Sparrow song
On window ledge;
Morning thanksgiving hymn
Of praise
Start here
Toil and work
Cramp To Do Lists;
Schedule endless meetings
New day
Meal time
Well-earned break
Gulp food and drink;
So many things to do
So how?
Big crowd
Gathering
Now at our house;
Noisy get-to-gather
Beer fest
Story?
Tell me now
What's going on;
People playing board games
Rowdy
Urban
Adventures
Pandemonium;
Party portfolios scream
Madness
Who knows
The way out
Unending maze;
Escape from sanity
Takes time
Words paint
Strange pictures
Vague feelings cue;
Question your stumbling ways
To be
Listen
Laughter sums
Pulse, pun and wit;
Humour packs a sure punch
Right here
Leon Enriquez
03 Mar 2014
Singapore
Hello Everyone. My entry below is a dedication to both the late Gungalo and the late Erich Goller. These two poets left earth and the poetry world before their time. Gungalo left us what will be three years next month and Erich left us a year and a half ago in November. His birthday is this coming week. Both people have a place in my heart and life forever. Pam and Erich you are missed by me and others as well.
"gungalo and erich where are you"
gliding through heaven
unveiled are your words
never alone they will be
gracing heaven or earth
alongside the poetry galaxy
love and more you both expressed
on any given day to your last breath
always you were there
night or day and in between
drawing images with images themselves
everlasting are your creations
resting in your portfolios
it tells me you were here
countless memories flash
hoping your shells are at rest
when I think of you both
hovering over words from the past
everything was right
relentless were you both
expressing and pushing me time after time
and although I replied my thoughts
remember this oh mighty ones
everything now is because of you
your work inspired me and the world
on this day I think of you and your legacies
uttering words of thank you
SkyWatcher - 05-06-17
If there is anyone who knew of Gungalo or Erich please let me know. I would love to know your connection and words of these two fine people and poets who not only wrote poetry but created their own formats and style thus always redefining poetry as well. Thank you.
Please know it is also an honor being here on PoetrySoup with all you marvelous talented writers. I feel privileged to be in the same membership and association.
Rest in Peace Pam and Erich
This Citizen Banker
safely in his compound doth attest,
sans donning his typical
gabbling and trumpeting ways,
while legally tendered,
currently being cents
less lee swept away
soul fully - bellow
wing from my chest
(with fortissimo, the
whirling wide webbed
watery tidal swells
rivaling the peak
of Mount Everest)
reef furring to being
nearly reduced to poverty
hence, essentially buck
king the tide while washed out -
since day short and dollar late
circumstances force me
to cash worthless buffalo chips
astutely as you correctly guessed
from deep pull horrible
United States economic situation,
where option non
existent against invest
ting, nesting, and squirreling
financial resources jest
accessible for wealthy people
to sync investment portfolios
region of popular tax haven,
viz Cayman Islands lest
hefty costs accrue
keeping scrupulously stashed re:
sources untouchable,
where Uncle Sam canst
access ex cell lent
healthy maturing outlook
king monies, and understandable
at rage against the machine
if rainy day funds messed
up, but solvent versus
debts drowning oneself
unable to stay afloat,
where declaring Chapter 7 bankruptcy
doomed to bobbing
within a sinking boat,
and where pointless
to pull out all the whistle stops
including abandoning resorting
to heroic measures
while additionally futile
to shed tears and emote
only kidding self to seek out goat
tam ma Buddha, nor will
I resort to gofundme
(cuz ma last name NOT Kardashian),
but matter of fact lee
roll with the figurative punches
feigning tubby Jew Dee
or an incarnation
of Muhammad Ali
during his ready for prime time Box
sing rebellious jabbering
left fist out fox
sing prize fighter un
defeated champ with mox
see, his champion modesty
oozed muscles like rocks,
a bankable one man
Gibraltar with precious
mettle to the core,
not wanting with his pugilistic,
yet homegrown genteel
ringing true mark
solid core state athletically valued
bankable bonded stocks.
Jeanette struck gold at the Worlds and Euros,
The non-Paralympic Worlds and Euros, that is,
In the sport of canoeing and she has portfolios,
In the Paralympic world as a swimmer, the biz.
She’s won a total of twelve swimming medals,
At five Paralympics going way back to Seoul,
But took up canoeing recently - one of her pals,
Nagged her into it. And has kids, a partner soul.
At the ICF Worlds in Milan in the class of K1,
Jeanette won the gold medal, and then in 2016,
At the ICF Worlds in Dulsburg, Germany’s lung,
Jeanette won silver in the K1 200m KL1 mean.
She took the gold at Rio, making it thirteen
Paralympic medals in total, and she said:
“I thought I’m never going to like it, [not keen],
but once I did it I absolutely loved it [dead].”
CRAZY GODS
Several Gods placed in religious compartments
with varied portfolios on different departments.
How do they actually operate?
In each religion they are separate.
Same Universal Moral Values world- wide fly
irrespective of religion each human to abide by.
Do Gods in different religions interact?
Or on collaboration they act or react.
People belonging to different religion
have to undergo different administration.
Societies run, Nations being busy
‘Gods get no role’: They must be crazy.
01/07/16
Edited on 04/25/20
'STRAND PICK E' Contest by Brian Strand.