Best Pride Poems

Playing Human

Introducing: Nate & Linda

The smile on my lips
is forced and coerced
I pretend to pay attention
give the best possible advice
everyone praises me
I'm so kind, polite and nice
It's all just automation
I rarely actually listen
certainly don't care
all I'm doing
is playing human
blending in
fitting in
I'm so perfectly hidden
you'll never even
see a curtain, 
   from where I stand
   Majoring in social events
   Put on a pedestal
   for computing with you
   I'm so perfectly hidden 
   smiling from time to time
   Labeling those 
   with all sincerity
   open soldiery  
   Passing along an appeal
   continuing to fit in
   blend in
   pretend
   force program 
   Is it just me or
   am I the perfect human?

~A Poet Destroyer Collaboration~

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015

Texian Macabre Arena

The First Texian Macabre Arena Ballad (The extended free-fallen edition)
 
In another life, is where I first saw your face!
One summer afternoon, lying wounded next to the dead
Unopened gun powder, mass destruction, a land of disgrace
A blood thirst battlefield is where I first saw your face
The sound of war, hidden behind bleeding hands
Crawlers, render their lives giving grace
 
Jaws of steel, broken, embracing, warm feelings
Summer rain, lungs filled with blood, one last post
Glorious by numbers, screaming blades
Gemstone in touch with the Holy Ghost  
Soldiers come in a little close 
Crawling, missing limbs, 
Twisted nightmare with no ending

Macabre reminder, retracing the aroma of eternal life
Secrets buried like a treasure under walls of sudden death
Revolutionary tears found on a rusted Bowie knife
Lanterns, crackling against the dying wind
Dirt piles of crushed windpipes -- sudden death
Rummage like garbage, the dead Texian
A Falling Alamo Star, taking one last twinkle upon the sky

Forgotten Patriots, I can't remember the names
Written on walls, I can't remember the names
A folktale arena is where I first saw your face
Fairness of stuttered surrender slicing through iron brace
Crawling, with the hunger to live, a clean finish with grace
Exposing, scars needing mother's hands, mothers face

Across infested meadows, the aroma of burning skin
Distant, before Texas and her annexation, 
Gruesome, before I lived, Texas and her mortal sin
I pledge, my love, the honor, a legion, I'm a full blown Texian
To Every Forgotten Texian Patriot----- We Win!

By: PD

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014

Sun Dance

~Sun Dancing~         

Bright yellow sparks glisten around the landscape
Sheer environment expose  
Warmth slinks down every step        
So--  Invigorating 
Spur like rays muster in long light
The wolves wait to howl
Soon--Bunch of flowers 
Huddle in with sunlit love
Luminous rave  

By; pd


(For contest) 

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013

This Buds For You

-This buds for you!-
-It takes one to know one!-
-I know you are, but what am I?-

A second hand, on my stopwatch, going nowhere!
You are a joker, a smoker, a midnight stroker  
<-------How, about that, Steve Miller song

I'm not here to talk about the way you comment a poem
That's not how I roll, now listen, and listen well, 

I don't care, about them words you speak
A whining sheep, every time you don't score
Crying behind close doors, 
Boo-Who, I did not place high in so-and-so's contest
Gosh&dammit, not everyone's on a quest
Blogging, about the day, your poem got demoted to nonsense
Trying to comment relentlessly, 
You can't top, a mountain that has no setup

I'd rather leave a copy paste comment, 
"than being fake as fake can be"
At least, my copy paste was a song, 
in which welcome the new poets on
Treating, everyone with love and security
Your invites, are cold and force, to you it's not about community
No motion, to your notion, simple, and disgusting

I don't know why you think, we are competing, 
Long ago, I left you bleeding, no reason to be defeating
Your paranoia, has you thinking, it's all about the points,
It's getting old and boring,
You cry babies are nothing more than jokes and hypocrites
Hey you, this ain't dominoes, we done pass every Jo-Jo
When, I have time I sit here for fun, my trigger finger on the gun

Reading, commenting, until my day is done
You think, because someone, left a copy paste 
That your poem was not read,
Perhaps, it was not understood, or enjoyed
Or, a welcome to the neighborhood
A nice smile, from me to you
Nice poem, You Rock!
So What! ---- WOW!

This Bud's for you
I think it's time for you to GET A LIFE!
Be glad someone took their time, in checking you out twice
Not, everyone on this site, is full of bull-shit
The smallest words, are more likely to be legit 
I don't need and expensive comment, 
I don't want to impress, when it comes to the best comment
Please do not make love to my poem!

A nice pat on my back will do, 
Now that my friend, puts a smile on my face
To know you care, to know you were there:)

Peace Out,

~SKAT~

Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2014

The Gravedigger

He never did see a face though only a board width away,
yet remembers feeling privileged, spending those last few moments
while trying so hard to find the softer soil to lessen the impact
upon the brass plated permanent encasement; in this final resting place.

beneath the old oak
neither sun nor moon perceived
a veil of shadow

He’s mindful of the susceptible sensation within when the last 
shovelful that completely covered the coffin tenderly placed,
then the license to use the coarse fill of heavy clay and stoney soil.

to become apart
at one within holy ground
the grass grows each spring

A phenomenal pride when to barrow away the surplus soil,
leaving the mound trim and tidy, a monument for the deceased;
also a monument for him, his very first dig, all with his own hand.

a mark of respect
for three score years and nineteen
entity forgone.

© Harry J Horsman 2015

Copyright © harry horsman | Year Posted 2015

President for a Day

-Dr President Lady, please  launch the nuclear war button-

I'm packing up my girdle; I'm heading up state 
Where society thinks only men should run for president
Chill with Bill, on the side show Hill
Subsequently, he got tripped up with his hand in the biscuit jar
This poem is not about me... It's not about, Hilary 
I'm here to cheer and throw off an early vote voluntarily
I'm numbering my days with the aces 
Until the 2016 U.S. Presidential election
Only in a woman, you’ll find confidence and determination, 
Someplace out there is our leading lady in disguise
A woman who sits down and pee's with pride
A woman Like Hilary, whose place was denied in the sun

I will vote for a woman who is not afraid to lead,
Grab up her crotch, and fight for all the right reasons
Repaint the town white and her fingernails red
Blue lipstick in the breeze, a tommy gun in her possession

A million dollar diamond ring, 
A mink from all cultures of the globe
Sing hallelujah, Amen Praise the Lord! 
Pink ribbons of freedom, 
China can test all her might,
It's time to feel the empowerment of a woman's delight

There she’ll be’, sit down and enjoy,
When it’s time to hear her voice, 
The bullet will miss her beautiful mind, 
She'll Raid the Democratic Nomination moment of the blind
Her ego on the side; when it's time to reason with society
Feel the shattered glass feeling when sharks attack whitey 

Cop Out the Republican Bully
Black Ops the Democratic Liar
For women can reach, preach, and teach,
Nursing a world, collaborating with every mind
A barrier to be breached, a blessed moment to come,
If you require a true hit, vote for a woman in the Oval Office
Who said Mrs. Wonderbra can’t launch the nuclear war button 

By:)

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014

Pink Pink Pink

Pink- Pink- Pink-

Every peak has its own attractions,
Like the mountains,
The mounts of a woman,
Have always remained, 
Her pride possessions. 01

It has the charms,
More intoxicating than wine,
As it reveals the beauty,
Of a woman's alluring binds. 02

These mounts gives,
The wings of imagination and colors,
In the mind of an artist,
And they arise the passion,
In lovers mind.03

Their rise and fall,
Has shaken great empires,
Under their cool and peaceful shade,
The dreams of a child form shapes. 04

Its serenity has given birth,
To most pious and holy figures on Earth, 
And their warmth have shaped the dreams,
Of many powerful kingdoms on Earth.05

They feed life giving milk,
To every new born light,
Every time they laugh and cry,
These lofty mounts, 
Help in forming shapes, 
When the child begins its story. 06

But these pride possessions,
Of a woman,
These lofty inspirations,
Of Poets, Writers and Artists,
These magical charms
Which often become more attractive,
Than the face of a woman,
Are facing,
A wide spread pollution,*
Which is the unwanted gift of
Modern living and
They are also the gifts,   
Of worst living habits,
Adopted by thousands, 
and millions of woman, 
As they fall prey, 
Before the charms,
And shows of modern generation. 07

Many such wonderful women,
Who are in the grip of this pollution,*
Have brought this curse on them,
Mostly because,
Of their own follies and errors. 08

Many such suffering women,
Can really get rid of,
From the curse of this pollution,*
If only they can show, 
The courage to adopt,
The natural way, 
Of living and breathing,
Possible under the boon like shade,
Of real Yoga. 09

The reasons,
Of the distortions,* 
Of their pink pink ribbons,
Are mainly the results, 
Of their own creations,
And these results, 
Are not something, 
For which,
One should blame, 
The destiny or God every time. 10

Some of the serious reasons are, 
Not caring rightly,
For one’s own pride possessions,
And the lack of, 
Physical manipulations.

Not keeping, 
A cool and calm mind,
And eating,
From morning till night,
All the junk foods and wine. 11

And working, 
Beyond all time limits,
While stressing, 
your peaceful mind. 12

Running and more running
To catch others, 
So that you may not leg behind. 13

And madly crying,
For more and more wealth,
Even if you have sufficient, 
For your life time. 14

Are the reasons,
Which invite the pollution,*
To sow its rotten seeds,
To spoil,
The enchanting valley, 
Which exists,
Amid the mounts of, 
Pink pink flowers. 15

The pollution,* 
Can still be derived out,
With the little practice of Yoga,
But it remains untouched,
And unsung about, 
By most of the modern women. 16

These otherwise elegant women,
Regularly face the problems, 
Of distress,
Lack of peace, 
And sound sleep.

Which ultimately take away,
Their happiness, 
And coolness of mind,
Resulting in strengthening more,
The un sprouted seeds of pollution.* 17

Still it is not too late,
If they can only change, 
Their life styles,
Their eating and drinking habits,
And adopt from today,
The way of natural living,
By adopting,
The boon like Yoga. 18


As the practice of Yoga,
Not only add years to your life,
But life to your years, as well. 19

Ravindra
Kanpur India 15th Nov. 2012

*Pollution- The other name of Cancer. 

Those who want to share their views on My above Poem may 
write to me on my yahoo mail id: kapoor_skk@yahoo.com  I 
would welcome your brief comments and if possible I will reply
you. Thanking you in anticipation. Ravindra K Kapoor

Inspired by Poet Destroyer I am dedicating this Poem to all those women of the world, who are facing any such problem of Pollution* And to those also who are not facing it, so that their life my feel the joy of living under the blessings of Yoga. 

Ravindra

TO OVERCOME OR TO TAKE PRECAUTION ON THIS PROBLEM UP TO SOME EXTENT- ONE CAN START WITH ANY ONE OR TWO OR THREE OR ALL FIVE OF THE SIMPLE YOGA EXERCISES I HAVE GIVEN IN MY ‘YOGA IN POEM’ SERIES 1 TO 5 ON POETRY SOUP IT- SELF. YOUR COMMENTS WOULD BE HIGHLY APPRECIATED. http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=490745

IMPORTANT NOTE: The best effects of Yoga can only be obtained if it includes the main exercises of essential ‘PRANAYAMA’ otherwise it wouldn’t yield the desired results and PRANYAM should be learn properly first. Ravindra K Kapoor

Copyright © Ravindra K Kapoor | Year Posted 2012

I'm my Daddy Made Over

Dedicated to my Dad Jerry W. Niday 3/20/1952 - 6/18/2013


I am who I am because of him
He’s the reason for my son’s name
He gave me my courage & my strength
To stand tall even when standing wasn’t easy
Stand for the ones who can’t
To think and fend for myself
I’m my Daddy made over

Taught me to fight back 
To never back down
How to pick myself back up
When I’ve been knocked down
Fight for what I believe
I’m my Daddy made over

He gave me my stubbornness 
Gave me my pride
Gave me my temper
Taught me not to take crap
To speak my mind no matter who
Work for what I want
I’m my Daddy made over

How to keep my emotions in check
How to handle large amounts of pain
When in trouble he always had my back
He knew how my mind worked better than anyone
I got it from him
I’m my Daddy made over

Even though he’s gone
I’ll stand and continue on 
I may stumble I may fall 
May even get hurt along the way
But I’ll pick myself back up
I’ll dust myself off and stand tall
I’m honored and proud to say
I’m my Daddy made over


Sabrina Niday Hansel

Copyright © Sabrina Niday Hansel | Year Posted 2013

A mother's treasures

A solitary piece the diamond
precious rare gem most treasured
by those lucky enough to hold
Once in possession it is rarely out of grasp
Like the gemstone the mother 
requires very specific conditions
in holding fast her (family/) childrens love
Treasured forever in her heart
she will go out of her way
to preen and protect them
holding them dear to her
deep within her maternal safe – the heart
closely guarded by the mind
Her infatuation of all treasures to her 
are totally understandable
especially when you think to the complexity
of structure and process taken in creation
Just as from the ‘unbreakable’ in ancient greek
this allotrope of carbon
with strength of bonding between atoms
is representative of that strong love
between mum and child
The maternal being could be compared
to the superlative physical qualities of the stone
Even the characteristic luster
of this gem so prevalent from its ability
to disperse light and colour
compared to the many strengths 
roles and qualities of the mother
seen by the many she deals with daily
A most high pressured job 
versus the high pressured temperature
within the Earths mantle
that forms the delightful rock it gives birth to
Infants delight and ignite the forbearer
just as the jewel would dazzle the room
a mother’s love encaptures the magical luster
of those she’s birthed and nothing
stands inbetween this richest of cargo’s

Copyright © Anna-Marie Docherty | Year Posted 2013

The Beauty of Lucifer

until an hour before the devil fell,
God thought him beautiful in heaven . . . 
                              (Arthur Miller)

God created his angels long before 
the temptation of Adam and Eve,
and the angel Lucifer was the most beautiful
he moved freely between roaming earth
and back to heaven and to the throne of God

Lucifer fell from heaven because of his pride 
    conceit in his own beauty
      his wisdom
         his intelligence
            his power

he desired to be GOD and not a servant of God
he was exceedingly beautiful and he used that beauty for evil
God made him the highest of all angels
a heaven where all the angels were beautiful but Lucifer
was God's most lovely creation

Lucifer wanted the throne of God
wanted to take over heaven
cast out God
in any way he could divise

but an hour before the temptation in the garden
God cast the beautiful angel, Lucifer out of heaven
he did not fall
he was pushed out

Lucifer came down and down
created an anti-God city where he was the ruler
he created hell
and became the Satan that we know of today
and temptation became his sword of power
he can appear to you in many forms
from beautiful or evil 
     a monster with horns
        or even a hissing snake

Satan moves freely between roaming earth
and back to his dark city . . .
his only purpose to fill his city of Hell

__________________________
February 8, 2016

Free Verse

For the contest, Expand Arthur Miller's Thought
sponsor, Julia Ward

Honorable Mention

The Devil Went Down to Washington

The devil went down to Washington to see what he would see
Ah yes he said everything looks real good to me
Everything is sliding down as I have planned it
That phrase “under God”: they have all but banned it.
 
This is sweeter than in the days of Adam and Eve,
Appeal to their almighty pride and they’ll believe,
any old thing I wish them to perceive,
or ridiculous philosophy I may conceive.

“I” the great perpendicular pronoun,
they all love that delightful sound!
By using their pride I can steer them.
forcing the meek to fear them. 

Those prime time commercials were my special inspiration,
The ones that reinforce their economic and ego inflation,
with the phrase “I buy this product because, “I’m Worth it!”
Or my favorite humility killer, “because I Deserve it!”

It’s so funny! They all think they do!
They stick to their mirrors like glue
While sliding in their own poo!
My what a little vanity can do!

Makes me feel like singing!
As my dark angels are winging

“Glory, glory well for me-ee
Glory, glory hell to thee-ee
Glory, glory hell to we-ee
I’ll have more compan-eeeeee!

Copyright © Robert A. Dufresne | Year Posted 2012

the circle of life

A predator among us.
A villian in our midst.
An entity of evil,
Clouding up our wits.
Preying on the innocent.
Devouring the strong.
A sycophant immortal.
Unbound by right and wrong.
White wool adorning
The curves of their form.
Cloven hooves dragging
on the ground with the worms.
No hoofprints behind them.
just the four toed paws
dotted at the tips
by their long and angry claws.
Nature is a cruel being.
Creating monsters in her storms.
No one understands
And everyone is torn.
The prey will always villify
those who are higher than they
on the food chains bottom
the sheep will always stay.
The wolves are meant to feed
without remourse consume
The psyches of the weak
to bring them to their doom.
The sheep will bleat and bellow
in fear of those wolves
And try to justify their blindness
by stamping hard their hooves.
Hiding in the herd,
the prey upon their back
the predators facade
turns their wool to black.
Such is natures way.
No one is at fault.
The circle of life.
The predators of thought.
For who can blame the hungry beast
for eating to survive
When you people create such feasts
And tantalize our eyes.
We can not feel guilty
for gaining our sustenance.
consider this my fealty
for i shall not repent.

Copyright © JoAnna Mitchell | Year Posted 2013