Best Portioned Poems
The Master left to go away,
But, being wise and just,
He first called forth three servants and
Placed Talents in their trust.
According to their proven skills
He portioned out their share:
Five to the first, the second two
One to the last man there.
And once the Master went away
The man he gave the five
Invested what he had been lent
And made his Talents thrive.
The man who had been given two
Worked hard to earn yet more,
But he who had been given one
Hid his beneath the floor.
After a time the Master came
Returning from his task
And bid his servants come to Him
With but one thing to ask.
"With what I had entrusted you
Now give me your account."
The man to whom was given five
Had doubled his amount.
In turn, the man He'd given two
Had turned them into four.
The Master said, "Well done my sons,
Now I will give you more."
The last whose Talent had been hid
Rushed forth to plead his case.
"I have protected what you gave
Within a secret place."
The Master, disapproving, looked
Upon his share returned.
"What good can hidden Talents do?
They yield no profit earned."
That Talent then He gave to he
Whose faithfulness was proved,
And from the man who had but one
His little was removed.
The moral of this story then
If you have ears to hear
Is we are given portions of
Which we are overseer.
Don't let your talents waste unknown
Whether they're small or great.
Whatever talents you possess
Should even more create.
9.16.18
Contest: Parable of the Talents
Categories:
portioned, allegory, bible, spiritual,
Form:
Rhyme
ekphrasis
Five glasses filled with brew but only two in kind;
the bread is toasted lightly, portioned just for four.
Although the background’s hazy, something rests behind,
dim splotch of green? a clue we may be out-of-doors.
A meeting of the minds? just what shall we assume?
Simplicity. The toast and drink, an easy fare.
It seems the palate lacks variety, it’s true;
be careful, but move past the concrete things in view.
Which guest will do without the toast or maybe share?
Perhaps this scene’s a prompt not meant to be consumed.
Imagine artists gathered round, with tools all set,
each marking what he sees upon that butcher block.
A not so simple task, the brush and palette used
or words in lines employed so meaning is infused.
The artist/writer spinning thoughts which can unlock
the core of what is seen, our appetites to whet.
written by Reason A. Poteet
written 18 April 2015, for Giorgio's Ekphrasis 01 Contest
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poetry_contests/member_contest_details.aspx?ContestID=6243
Categories:
portioned, art, imagery, writing,
Form:
Ekphrasis
I The Phoenix
I recall in my youth how the world around me seemed so alive vibrant in color and beauty. As I aged this beauty faded and was replaced with a new world filled with shades of grey. Life rushed by me quickly, I was no longer able to see the beauty around me. The longer I lived in this new world the more my spirit faded.
One day this new world came crashing down around me and I was left alone, abandoned in the streets. Overcome with fear and loathing I wandered aimlessly among the dispirited and walking dead. I survived on the pity and sustenance portioned out to the lost souls.
I found myself pondering my youth as I walked the streets and wondered where that world had gone. My eyes saw things along the sidewalk that inspired my imagination, I kept these as mementos of life lost. These tidbits of refuse I examined and again found vibrant color and beauty. I began to piece these small tokens together and slowly recreated my youthful vision.
Casting aside my thoughts of returning to the life that had drained away my spirit. I became whole again, I now dwell again in those vibrant colors and an abundance of happiness as were in my youth. Society will not number me among it's herded numbers of spiritless victims.
Authors Note:
3 years of homelessness and destitution opened my eyes and reignited my spirit. If you feel you have lost your way, cast off everything and start anew.
Categories:
portioned, adventure, appreciation, beautiful, moving
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
what she said could be seen as hyperbole
not to come running on broken leg problem
but her wisdom portioned into golden prompts
saving for a rainy day comes up empty
the free market could benefit by her depth
she’s open-handed and supports socialism
however her intentions were never false
like threats of waiting for return of husband
witticism unsurpassed by comic excerpts
Mother is an apotheotic angel
Categories:
portioned, humorous, mother,
Form:
Verse
https://m.soundcloud.com/user-921599710/tooth-care
Aligned in place, they changed and grew
A distinct frame to chomp and chew
To rip, to crush, to tear and bite
To process food, determined might
Forward canines made to tear
Bold incisors lessen wear
Solid molars help to crush
Day and night our teeth to brush
A solid set, with aim to grind
The sets of teeth we can but find
Milk teeth formed, of first event
The adult teeth grow permanent
Meat eaters are carnivores
Plant consumers’ herbivores
To brush is not inferior
To balance bad bacteria
Balanced diet, portioned fruit
Brighter teeth, a healthy root
A poorer choice of alcohol
With smoking yet will take its toll
For where leftover sugar lay
An acid forms for tooth decay
Improved choices – don’t delay
Brush and floss teeth twice a day
Written by Geraldine Taylor ©
Categories:
portioned, arabic, children, education,
Form:
Free verse
Nap Time
In the astral world of utterance, one overhears the whispering of sweet nothings, breathlessly whisking up a spell of portioned scents that nay, nearly spilt the teacups swirled cremes delights and demitasse gooey treats,
Behold the phoenix rise to full measure under a lunar ecliptic mystic mesmerizing trance, upon a peacocks crown, whose stretched out azure-chartreuse wings, becomes enmeshed betwixt the manes of an unbridled passionate gallop,
For it leaped towards a skipping array of a colorful rainbow's path, that was freely dancing throughout its phases within the warmth air of a frozen sky,
As it spread o'er a vast terrain of mounds and vales of gathered greens tethered to tawny treasures teeming of life with no end at joyful pleasures,
Thus at the behest of Cherubs during the advent of endless stars whose dreamy light twinkles instructions that seduces a flock of whimpering lambs a free ride on their woolly souls,
Fostering meek minions to flow in the channels of a righteous domain free of a distant storm pushed by the lashes of sunbeams tickled whips temperate to your hearts enchanted beats that steadies the gauges of innocence,
And as a cluster of mirrors enlightened volumes of your sojourned quest of luminous unconscious prominence in a period of this, your inner realm expanse, collectively storing away as romantic muses within the anthology of your memory as its key
All delicately locked by the fortuitous magnitude of your eyelids.
2019 May 16
*4th Place*
Baby Face What's You THINKIN 2
~~James Edward Lee Sr.
Categories:
portioned, analogy, angel, dream, imagination,
Form:
Narrative
The frozen male gamete is injected into the
bovine beast of burden and succour.
Months later, through the miracle of mitosis, a
juicy cut of prime passes through the birth canal, both
beautiful and bloody.
Steadfast child of some eastern divinity, I have faith that this creature was born
to meet his end on some surgical-steel golgotha,
and nourish me as bits and pieces cut and portioned on my dixie plate!
-note-
I am not a vegetarian.
Categories:
portioned, animals
Form:
why must you hurt me? Why cant you listen?
I guess mockingbirds only mock
you don't care of me, you care of your image with me
because the mockingbird only mocks
you say you need me, though I beg to differ
but mockingbird you don't understand, for all you know is mock
you want to love me, and keep me forever
'tis just the flattery of a mock bird
I have life, not death for you
poor mocked at mockingbird
I might be dead but at least in the light,its better than a life buried six feet down
poor, unaware mockingbird
your large cushion nest made only of bones
comfortable only for mocked old bird
I hate you old bird, not innocent dove
a raven mocked over time
a black raven blind, flying through day
don't you know its not dark yet, mock flight?
Raven says don't be a prince
he mocks the royalty
he thinks it spoils an appetite of life
bird mocks a portioned meal
why must you hurt me? Why cant you listen?
I guess mockingbirds only mock
Categories:
portioned, anger, angst, dad, sad,
Form:
Free verse
the dire mistress assails
she pursues a mans carmine sustenance
becalm her
with reality
with reason
in order to pacify her passion
If in need
desperately
become anointed, seek inner peace
join willingly with the angel
belong and recite with her
during her reaping song
hovering voraciously
over the carnage
a sliver haired woman
does appear
she is caped in gracing darkness
emitting reverential fear
a wanderer
stands alone
unmoved after observing this slaughter
he stands upon
a vast battlefield
located in the valley of desertion
the death angel
now recites in finality
she will impose
the wanderer
blankly listens
accepting his sentence with repose
before
termination
the wanderer is permitted
a last request
in hapless agony
he asked his wife to be spared
“Flee”
“my willowy wife”
“Become expedient”
“Alter thy motion”
“seek the safe albatross”
“in tranquil, translucent flight”
Long
vibrant moments
the dire mistress
performs her duty
O, how regretfully
the moan
of her singing scythe
Last being
perished
the mistress soon vanished
Valkyries
ferried souls away
leaving that undulating plain of silence
The willowy wife?
She was portioned
by flight
her winged sprouts
sultrily she laughs
avoiding the plight
Categories:
portioned,
Form:
Severe Weather Predictions...
Professedly Plagues Psyche
I do not watch, while
feigning to sip ale,
nor listen to Wail
ling Jennings poor
imitation by prophetic
local aborigines scent
ting ancestor trail,
while plucking their
Sing song ukulele
national anthem (tip towing
thru the dale
lie la of hybrid tulips)
hearty and hale
Climatological headlines,
more like a puffed up
magical dragon exhale
ling nothing boot hot air,
comprising a renown folk song,
and/or futuristic tall tale
that usually pre
dominate every airwave scale
ling the gamut of
every frequency 24/7, rail
ling dire warnings,
and no need prevails,
particularly for those
refusing to evacuate,
and become sitting targets
like quail caught
in the cross hair
for me to know
onset of biblical pro
portioned sized debacles
(since joblessness thy status,
cuz social security disability received),
but more pertinently
dire forecasts rarely manifest
into monster mashing maelstroms
case in point
being this predicted
"three sisters of all hurricanes"
Florence, Light
Ning, and Gale,
found this storm chaser
disappointed, cuz monstrous
banshee's utter deplorable show
ranked as utter dud at least
(in my book), they did fail
to wreak havoc
falling far short
to flatten every tree,
which limb mit
to flash flooding
minor inconvenience
forced every to sail
guy did by those freed from jail.
Categories:
portioned, 11th grade, adventure, america,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
Dear Lady,
I heard you say that you still trust President Trump
to do almost as good a job as he says he is doing,
despite all the lies,
because "they all do that",
just say whatever the audience of the moment
would most like to hear.
Really?
I believe Abraham Lincoln,
our first Republican President,
would be surprised to hear his Gettysburg Address
was "telling them what they want to hear"
in his best cheerleader,
go, fight, win voice.
And it seems to me that Thomas Jefferson,
one of the PreRepublican forefather type Presidents,
would object to hear his rather specific name-calling
Declaration of Independence from plutocratic,
and perhaps greedy, and maybe slightly cynical, Elitists,
was just telling the good King what he really wanted to hear.
But regardless of whether our quality standards for Presidential integrity
should reasonably be expected to go up,
now that we're into our 40th-something incarnation of this Office,
or reasonably be expected to go down
after the first two or three, or sixteen,
or whatever
back in ancient integrity times,
when the premillennial pubic person was worth his/her word
in trust repaid.
How can you trust a President
who is significantly less sure of your right to health and climate care giving
and receiving
for yourself
and for our multiculturing grandkids,
than was the former President?
How is that going in a direction that you
and your healthy extended pro-life family,
your tribe,
neighborhood militia,
or paranoid klan,
or whatever
you continue to trust
as some direction that could be good enough
for those you love the most?
Health,
like racism
and sexism,
does not optimally arrive in individual-portioned packages;
they only sustain resilient climaxes
on interdependent through empty and bereft social scales
of qualities for cooperative wealth v WinLose competing pathologies.
Still Listening
Your Democratic HealthAsWealth Advocate
Categories:
portioned, absence, anxiety, health, humor,
Form:
Political Verse
You are the created One who created everything
Who gave us creativity
You are the one who had the date when I would be born
A pin portioned
Just right were I am Now
Wow
You did that just for me
You are the one who released unto me thoughts to be
Wisdom instructions and clarity
You did that just for me
To be
All of the time space with me
Instructions read answers fed problems solved they were suppose to be
For me
I tapped in found intimacy
Laid down back sided responsibility
Favor fixed the game blue streak
Peeked
Before the contact was made
Misbehaved
Had times of insecurities
With thee
Measures the right time to reveal to me
To be
Catching rhythms rehearsed ripples raved risky
Tripped see
Over misunderstanding why things happened to me
Growth see part is a process property
Belong to release
Part of a designated timed prophesy
Who me
Yes greet
Those set aside for my destiny
Set in motion just like me
Grown from a little seed
To be
Proportionally realigned rejected many of times trust me
Now I see
Life matters really matters quickly
To catch up with time thought lost was not time to see
The outcome of a Father's masterpiece!
Categories:
portioned, beauty, bible, blessing, celebration,
Form:
Free verse
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What the hell have I
...but hands full of dust
From beneath that dead tree without shelter nor brush
Upon this desolate land without shadow or shade
Where the earth has been scorched and it's skin is decayed
Those who will enter shall fall by the sword
Then portioned to jackals gnawing the bones from before
What the hell have I
...but somber mournings at dawn
The tree replied life and death is what you hold in thy palms
It showed me love and hate inside of one grain of sand
Courage and fear within another - then evolution of man
And It revealed something different from either hand I held clutched
For the ground that I stood was auctioned for material lust
Then it said as your shadow at morning is striding behind
Or your shadow rising at evening into infinite nights
I'm older then angels and will live long after your death
I acquiesced then surrendered as my heart would reflect
Captivated by wild flowers growing upon rotted flesh
As song echoed from tombstones where willows made nest
What the hell have I
...upon this rented earth
A hand full of dust or the essentials of birth
~JJF ~
Categories:
portioned, earth, garden, introspection, nature,
Form:
Free verse
So is it just me or is toast weird
bare with me so
bakers train for years
To produce these
beautiful pillow bouncy castles of air caves
surrounded by mouth crumbling battlements
crusts that disintegrate at a tremble
they learn to knead and squeeze and shape
they have timings calculated
and portioned preparations
each grain of accounted salt well grain
Through clear logos
its ribbed edges
flex
So we take these baskets of art
Take them home
and sinisterly cut them in
coffin oblongs
and place them=wait for it in
machines that will burn them
until like slightly corroded
stone tablets
we have made them crunchy
wait too crunchy
lets slather them in gold drips sun bloomed fat drops
how many times have you had a toastie
which is only toasted on one side maybe
we should call it a Toa lets call it a tie
which toast came first
the bread or the raising of the wine
and why do we always cut it smaller
people you cant live with them
but you can hide within them
and wait for them all to die
now
they say that we clink glasses
because if your enemy has poisoned your drink
any foamy overspill
it will poison them
friends so easily turn to fiends
that softly hue of amber embers
dripping with oil slick sunbeam strokes of summer
bye
going to make some weird toast
Categories:
portioned, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
the antiquitous souls.
" perhaps uninvitable?"
mellowing amberred coals
[portioned minds] ,
on the brink of unstable?
Stability became a commidity .
fathoms of time ago.
drinking from a fountain of
bereavement.
They've forgotten of the seeds?
in need, to be sewn.
Categories:
portioned, art, death, fear, history,
Form:
Free verse