Best Possessors Poems
Mothers, like mine,
the rarest of jewels.
The givers of life;
extending a guiding hand
to their children, leading them
to a beacon of light
when lost in the dark.
They're a constant presence
and support system, rain or shine,
through success or failure.
Mothers, like mine,
unfailingly comforting.
They're always there
to pick up the pieces;
wiping their children's tears
with a comforting smile.
Mothers, like mine,
stalwart pillars
of love and support.
Mothers greet their newborns
with joyous beaming eyes,
loving them prima facie.
Unconditionally, continually,
they love their children
From the cradle to the grave.
Mothers, like mine,
the glue that hold
households together.
Mothers give tender shoulders
to cry on, to lean on.
Possessors of hearts that beat
with patience and understanding
Possessors of arms ever ready
and eager to caress.
Mothers, like mine,
natural-born role models,
teaching their children
right from wrong, showering them
with fruitful advice and life lessons
Mothers, like mine,
fierce protectors; shielding
their children from all shades
of harm, watching them grow
and blossom into adulthood.
Mothers, like mine,
lend their children wings
to soar across troubled seas;
over seemingly insurmountable
obstacles day in, day out.
Rarest of jewels, indeed.
I'll always love and cherish
my mother
Submitted for...
Tribute To Women Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Beata Agustin
Date submitted: 03/26/2022
Date originally written: 04/12/2016
The thunder crackled like a hound in pain,
And the air was filled with misty grains,
Some evil spirit had stepped on their gardens,
Breaking the flowers that died in wane
The people were lying in the bony arms of terror,
The sky was filled with screeching clatter,
There was no one to save the innocent cradles
They bled to death and their homes were shattered
The cherished land became a bleeding ground,
For those who were dead and those still abound,
They longed to see the flags of green,
But their cries of help were brutally drowned
Their eyes were shadowed with tears so red,
They couldn't look back and wouldn't move ahead,
The sky was screaming with thousands of souls
While their possessors were simply lying beneath dead
The smoky greys had turned them blue,
Their hopes had dashed and hearts became crude
The leaders ensured the safety of every ant,
Those promises and oaths, Were they all actually true?
They waited until their breaths were to last,
And then they heard yet another blast,
The bombs fall out of sky like droplets of rain,
The destruction spread like a drought over grass
The children mourned for those they lost,
And mothers and widows dropped tears as a cost-
For nothing they had done to harm someone else,
But the hearts of enemies were all but frost
The light of the day had become a mystery,
But then someone came for the sake of ancestry
They were aided and taken to a safer haven,
But bloodshed and war was still their history
A ray of hope were they trying to find,
A meaning of life, after their minds got blind,
They sowed the flowers again in their gardens,
To grow a more stable and civilized mankind
Faith is not... blind,
it sees what... others don't.
Faith is not...a gift,
we choose it... others won't.
Faith is not...weak,
it breaks the yoke of it's oppressors.
Faith is not foolish,
it preserves alive it's possessors.
John Derek Hamilton
October 22,2015
Tombstone
Three brothers and their wives, happily starting over together
One was a former lawman, searching for, not fame, but fortune
Justice was only swift if one drew his gun first, but was too slow
The Wild West after the war; guns, liquor, anger, violence, and hope
In an atmosphere of chaos, imported entertainment bandaged the pain
This story had it all; romance, adventure, entrepreneurship, and gangsters
There was little room for cowardice in these parts; but loyalty was priceless
All were possessors of guns; the good men, the lawmen, and the lawless men
There was a vicious coward who along with the ‘Cowboy Gang’ was driven out
The pain of addiction, even back then, wiped out love and broke up marriages
The coward cowboy said it best when he uttered, “Law don’t work round here”.
Destroying the gang was best summarized, “It’s not revenge;it’s a reckoning”.
Ex Lawman and a dying gambler renewed their relationship of prior years, places, times
I cannot think of a movie that has given me more satisfaction than this cowboy legend
Watching “Tombstone” always deeply moves me; I think I’m drawn by the “friendship factor
01212016 (PS contest, “Favorite Movie”, sponsored by Nayda Ivette Negron)
A whim of pleasure
Speaks to the wind,
And a sigh of murder
Cannot win.
Who’s to say one pleasure is
Better than another?
Pain and pleasure,
Life’s two sovereign masters.
Pushpin is just as good
As poetry?
Pursuing my pleasures
In a void of toxicity.
The lowest and slowest
Are life’s basic needs.
Sex, drugs, and fine foods
Is all simple-likes need.
A step higher into cultured reliefs,
Art and music indeed;
Such dignity,
Not like the baser needs.
Step one more,
The mind of science and/or spiritual needs.
*****sapiens source of
Elation,
All found in empirical seeds.
Though it is better to be
A human dissatisfied than
A pig satisfied;
Better to be Socrates dissatisfied
Than a fool satisfied.
Ours species two sovereign masters;
Pain and pleasure…
Nature’s selective possessors.
Broken Hearted Wings
They fled, those who retained their wings,
from darkness’ foul and fetid stench
pursued by evil’s endless lust for – wings
to raise its yellowed eyes above the clouds.
Freed - at the cost of freedom’s wings – they fled.
The silence of a windless forest - idle leaves
echoed the humming of their precious wings
alerting both possessors and possessed
to the presence of the fleeing - and their quest
fan their wings and give the forest breath
awaken from sad slumbers snoring roots
summon from cold earth the depth of truth
lift the leaves to face the darkened sky
cast their welcome scent to all that fly
part the fog to clear the doubts of sun.
Darkness withered in the weak, returning glow
cringed in shadows - hid its face – in first retreat
surrendered to the heat of heightened noon
sank into the pits that spawned such gloom
shook the earth in whimpering defeat.
They returned – with stained and tattered wings
to rest upon the trees of scented peace
speak of love, and joy, and sacred things
rejoicing in the peace such freedom brings
weary soldiers and their broken hearted wings.
John G. Lawless
7/26/2015
submitted to – Epic Only – Poetry Contest
sponsor – SKAT A
The intoxicator of even the wisest
The desire of every man and woman
Pursuit with burning passion
That sometimes led to ultimate destruction
Oh power!
Is it because you are the ability to make others do
What they don’t want to do
That you are making your possessors do
Even things they are not supposed to do?
In some you have planted cruelty
While others you have taken away their intellectual sagacity
Oh possessors of power!
Only if you know that the law karma is real
Only if you know that six feet is real
Only if you know that hell is real
Only if you know that the only thing that lasts forever is nothing
Maybe then…
Thou will not abuse that which is in thy hand by privilege…
Power!
ABSOL - 07032277508
Past the pane, the newly-risen sun
Embodies hopes to rise, to peak, to wane,
And here within, the music has begun:
Fearful, aggressive songs of despair and pain.
And on my mind’s horizon swarm
The strange possessors of my form,
A-bustle to the rhythm of the sounds that sting my soul.
And, as I gaze into the blue beyond,
The universal of my heart’s pursuit,
I call to God and pray my echoing voice…
But ah! my voice is mute.
But for your manifestation in dried pulp
Minds neglect your invasion
The crave for you unquenchable .
Lime light shining on your possessors
Underdogs gazing loathsomly at your managers
Soo powerful you send jolts down the spine of those
Witness your prowess
Making your wish their command
Like a squirrel in snowing forest minds omit not knowledge of your perpetuated asylum .
Unfathomable is your innocence yet
Loyal to the most guilty of all
Reward for lunacy, you are showered
Hands that are most stained,
On the strong that preyed on the weak .
Though a two edged sword though has done
More evil than good
My only kudos goes to your being a scale
Used to measure the integrity of the grey haired
The thought of you power has pushed conscience
Off the cliff, dethroned regrets and burnished admonition
Breeding sycophants to ldolise ur deeds.
Blindfold made of ornaments, and sustained by aroma of luxury we all trudge along like wildebeests
Neglecting the wails of agony resulting from the excruciating pain of bodies trampled upon
Like a countdown you are always the alpha in
The scale, preferred to any other form gratitude.
Your absence like a deficiency inflicted your victims
With timidity,loyalty, linferiority complex and self doubt
Panacea produced by unconventional means
Like a miracle you heal by touch alone
Making tongues lie, hands soiled in blood
Just to possess you
Should your crime be documented,the whole world
Can't contain it, yet your place of Adobe still remains every paper's dream
Thief! You ought to be hanged for stealing our mind and thoughts,but the hanges man
Couldn't resist the pleasures and charisma you
Could be exchanged for.
In the law court should you be prosecuted for looting
Our cultural treasures and value
Judas couldn't resist the comfort you could offer him
You are the the token assassin's collect for the elimination of boredom
Am l an exception?
My sword is out of the furnace and ready for exploit
I rather pile you up or die trying
Those at ''The Top'' may have a degree
Whatever you think ''The Top'' to be
Groomed and smart but looking so tense
Because they have no common sense
Common sense is overlooked
Possessors of it ? - Their goose is cooked
This is because the powers that be
Have no common sense you see
The powers that be always say
The subject ''Economy'' won't go away
In fact they give me a pain in the tooth
'Economical' only with the truth !
Where's the next war coming from ?
We need another place to bomb
That is where our money goes
Creating death and a thousand woes
Libya, Iraq, Afghanistan
Look what happened in Vietnam
The ''Politics'' game fills me with frisson
Just one question - why don't they listen....?
The powers that be always say
Creating war is the only way
Making themselves a whole lot of money
On OUR taxes - it ISN'T funny
Then having made mistakes galore
THEIR troubles are brought to YOUR door
As for me ? - MY only fix ?
Stay away from politics....
I arise in love with love
it grows its fruit out of my wings
love makes my heart sing, romance.
love makes me selfless in a state of agape.
love keeps me thinking in isolation,
hoping in dejection.
love makes me express on bed of roses
entangled an intertwind in bliss
woven passions that rejects lust, yet invites love.
the necter is sweet
as pleasures trancend and ravish my trinity
oh love is faithfull, willing and definately able.
oh definately able!
Love existed before Cain killed Abel
It will bring joy to it's possessors
Captivating it's keepers
Uplifter of weepers
Bringing pleasure to those who express it,
who
grow it
live it
make it.
When you get to Aso Rock
Help me inform his Excellency that
I do not dislike him so much, just four
things he made made me hate him:
His change has change my boxers
It made me change the Green Boxers
that Maria bought for me and now put on
the Black dusty one abandoned many years ago.
His policies has taken all the yams in my
barns and left the place empty with scars
To remind me of when I was who I was
In the past of my past with a future of it.
He allowed hidden hands the right to build
massive barns in a far land like a proud
possessors of big bags yet they have nothing
but revival of pains hidden in people' pride.
Tell him to bring back our corruption and
Take back his change that has looted us
We can return all his polished tall brooms
Let him leave us to perish more in our doom.
(C) John Chizoba Vincent
Voice Of Vincent 2016
Piece of art
Majesty unexplained in your steps
Aura of beauty that could put the moon to shame
Implausible to encounter someone with a heart like yours
Golden inside and out
Hazel orbs of delight that put me in a state of mesmeration
Dream of sheer serenity and fulfillment
Trace your marvelous face with my eyes
Etching it into memory
Kindness to fit a king’s glory
Don’t know any other of such extraordinary character
Every breath has your name engraved upon
Love too radiant to display
Scarring the eyes of ignorant mortals
Who know nothing of love or true beauty
Slaves of their bodies
Pitiful souls burned down into char
Missing the raw emotion of passion
Born within all but disappeared within most
A glow only apparent in a few
You and I its final possessors
Some people go it alone, never considering whether it was right or wrong. Perhaps they deem themselves Superman, but I have never been that strong.
Sometimes we start out in the dark, and the path gets lighter as we go step by step. But even in such steps, I need someone within or God above to say, "It's
okay to proceed". I also believe in accepting advice, counsel, guidance, and in listening to the wise opinions of others. Of course, in the final analysis, it's my
responsibility to live with the choices I've made. Some people who may be professed atheists are also made in the image of God and are therefore
possessors of a God-consciousness whether acknowledged or not. The animal
kingdom is provided remarkable instincts, but humans are endowed with so
much more. No, I have never heard the audible voice of God, and I'm not really sure that I would want to. But yes, though not audible, I do hear His
whispering voice of assurance that 'puts me in the know'. And yes, God has also placed something within me, a witness bearer, that provides 'an inner
knowing. There are various ways that this 'inner knowing' could be defined and described via the Scriptures, but I'm not interested in becoming theological
nor am I suggesting I possess any special connections. That inner knowing is sometimes the sum total of good teaching, good parenting, and faith in God.
We need not be renowned nor deemed profound to be within the circle of knowledge. Just being alive and human will suffice.
08282018PoSoupContest, Dealer's Choice Poetry, Caren Krutsinger; Chosen theme, Inner Knowing
“And the city had no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it: for the glory of God did lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof.” Revelation 21:23 of the King James Bible
Streets of gold
welcome glorified bodies
yon unclouded firmament.
Transparent glass
of serenely crystal water
serves as mirror to saints
in their spotless robes.
Succulent twelve kinds of fruits
from the tree of life
await spirited believers.
Around fortress of gem stones
having pearly gates exuding flawless wealth
upon foundations garnished with precious jewels
there the grateful worshippers forever are secured.
Possessors of radiant eternal life
exalt the omnipotent Lord God
Who shines with His Alpha and Omega glory.
September 1, 2024
3rd place, "I Form - Imagism" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France; judged on 9/26/2024