Best Professionally Poems
education
an equation
wrapped up
in
explanation
and
instruction
drifting lexis
to grow
personally
professionally
socially
and
develop
desire
to solve
problems
while trying
to cling
onto
your
u
n
s
p
o
o
l
i
n
g
m
i
n
d
?
As precious stones are hidden and entwined
in minerals of ordinary worth,
they must be found, professionally mined
from common, rocky layers of the earth.
Extracted, polished, cut- they'll stand apart
as valued gems. Neglected, they will share
in earth's destructive force- erosion's art-
dissolve away with nature's wear and tear.
Oh God, you are both Mine and Miner; strip
this soul embedded in your work of clay,
and let your tools of grace and fellowship
preserve the gem of Love from life's decay.
Cut many facets that reflect and show-
the worth of gem and Miner in its glow.
November 13, 2014
"We are moving fast towards an age where people will be lovers of self, lovers of
money, self-seeking. Self-gratifying, laying aside morality, spirituality, family
values, and God, for self-preservation, self-gratification, and a cheap thrill.
2 Timothy 3:1-5
Beautiful, Black, Precious, and Complicated
Nothing else like it has ever been fabricated because the recipe stated the
ingredients are outdated. And the original chef barely got credit when He made it.
So without sounding antiquated, let me tell you how I'm rated:
My Beauty is my quality that offers pleasure to the mind or senses. It gives me a
conspicuous essence to remonstrate the world's false pretenses. My temple
becomes a domineering visual aspect of grace, radiating a Saint's best quality
on a child-like face.
I'm Bold, Black, and Original of course. I stand with full force and demonstrate my
strength with no remorse. It's a color of authority and power as stylish and
timeless as an extraordinary and eloquent flower.
I am Precious, Gentle, Sweet, and Simple. I make all my flaws seem accidental.
A treasured soul that can't become nothing less than monumental. It only makes
sense that my ingredients are kept confidential.
Sophisticated and Complicated I remain, yet such a *****, audacious bird.
Professionally e-nun-ci-a-ting every word and ar-ti-cu-la-ting every verb. Inquiring
about uncanny intellect which remains unheard.
My aura and my persona suggests Royalty among most high. Promising me a
productive future and a thrill of a ride. So the next time you happen to stumble
across me, the child of a King, I prefer to be referred to as MISS QUEEN in your
dialect of linguistic strings.
A Painting Unsigned
Written: by Tom Wright
December 2014
Rooftops, at dawn, were covered
With luminous frost,
Appearing today, professionally done
While I lay sleeping;
The grass and trees likewise being
Similarly embossed,
While from the east, a rising sun,
Is peeping;
To erase each rooftop, blade of grass,
And un-leafed tree,
It’s, as if, being nature’s giant eraser
It’s been assigned.
From previous occurrences this outcome
I can for-see,
God will let this splendid painting,
Go unsigned.
Another cabinet of curiosity
What's your super ability
Where endless are the possibilites
What's your philosophy
when it comes to Deuteronomy
Does it carry into Timothy
Do you judge with intensity
And when it comes to invincibility
are you armed with infallibility
or caressed with creativity
What's your identity
As it concerns this activity
Must it be immediatly
and in the immediate vicinity
Can you preform professionally
with perpetuity somehow with duplexity
Or are we still plagued with jealousy
Are your claims contradictory
And all we see just a mystery
And what do we gleen simply from history
something unearned by His posterity
something we learned about super ability
Depression is not treated by putting on lip stick
you stand in the mirror and put on the tears snot
drooling in your mouth behind the curtains awaiting
to go out on stage and face an eager audience depression
stings like a bee you painfully feel it you can't hide by journaling
writing poetry being clinically depressed takes constant
medication to control the chemical imbalance inside the brain
every brain in different although everyone gets sad it's a human
emotion being depressed for life is a cancer that has to be
treated professionally or the consequences can be very fatal
millions die every year from suicide sadly homicidal suicides
no one should encourage anyone in such a state to just write
a book glamorize depression this euphoric thinking results
in suicide notes and suicide planning this can be a dangerous
ticking time bomb without medication why all suicide notes are
poetic lyrics mental health ptsd are not a greatest hit anyone
I mean anyone in such a state needs to put down the lipstick
put down the pen stop typing suicide notes do yourself a favor
and make that call I did thirty years ago I am still taking
medication in therapy and writing poetry I'm alive I survived
my own suicide many are not alive to tell their story or just
write poetry or publish a book don't be a deadline the greatest
poets are read only after death don't make your suicide note
a greatest hit on your own life save yourself save someone you
love get help stay own your meds clock is a ticking notebook
by: yolanda nicholsen
written 2-14-2024 2:07 am.
valentines day.
In loving memory of Virginia Woolfe
Dragon ran excitedly, into my family room.
He’d been out all day, doing what was anyone’s guess.
He claimed he needed money, a thousand dollar loan;
It was for my birthday gift; or so that’s what he stressed.
“That’s not the way it works”, said I,
“You don’t buy it with my money”.
“I know”, he replied, “but it’s more than I have,
I need a loan and I’ll work for it Mummy”.
And so he scrubbed and mopped; swept and saved;
until he had his dough.
Off he went and spent all day;
not for his meals, did he ever show.
When my birthday rolled around; he handed me a box;
“It’s professionally wrapped”, he proudly claimed.
Obviously it wasn’t for it looked like a mangled fox.
“Open it”, he cried while clapping paws with glee.
His enthusiasm, non-contained; it was oh so raw,
said he’d gotten it more for himself;
I eagerly, opened it with my own two paws;
It was such an amazing sight; he’d gotten me an elf!
“Whew!” he said, breathing a sigh;
“I thought you’d not open it in time…”
“You wrapped a house elf in a box, alive?
No wonder he’s pale white!”
I pulled him out; gave CPR and he was revived;
although, still a bit woozy, from his recent plight.
Oh so delighted my elf was, just to be alive;
he’s dedicated to me; for the rest of his life.
He carried the oxygen from one room to another but the smallest effort cost.
The air was fresh but the breath wouldn't catch and coughing.
He wondered how his plan was left unfulfilled.
He had used every human he had ever come in contact with.
And now after living with his sister and her husband for thirty years he was finished.
This was his life and the cough.
He sat stirring his coffee and ate a pastry with his tooth.
That was what he had one tooth and his famous cough.
He was a professional and his lung had quit.
No one had told him that the lung would do this but it had.
Most wouldn't believe he professionally coughed but the cough did.
And that is what mattered and smoking.
Smoking and waiting to die was all he had.
Lying in the hospital bed and staring at the tv screen.
The doctor said the cancer had moved into the lung.
He said that he wanted to run the test but medicare wouldn't pay for it.
Should have got that insured by Geico and wanting a cigarette.
This is a true story about my Uncle Charles who is alone but for my Mothrer ,Father and Me
Hello little fella! hanging down from the roof
Idolizing brave knights quite similar your spoof
Oh going to weave again? Or it's just for fun?
Little feet you have, working under the bright sun
Running back and forth, driving professionally
The transparent lines made by your work patiently
Finishing your web to become firm like a wall
Though many times to encounter error and fall
The center point of abode certainly transform
Quirky wall especially in night ready to form
Calling the attention of your favorite meal
Uncomfortable gun target the prey to kill
Your strange beauty tailoring your suitors to loom
An angelic quietness of yours preparing their tomb
The pure work, modest tricks obtain your victory
But move amiss, foes eat you complimentary
Working hard endlessly can't stop the wind and rain
Your brave spirit and entire strength ignore the pain
The Spider by Elai Cee for
"Along Came a Spider Entry Poetry Contest"
under by Suzanne Delaney
With two months left to go, in the year of 2012, I must not be too complacent.
However the first ten months have brought much joy and few sorrows.
The most exciting events have been the four weddings of young relatives.
My youngest grandson's wedding came first and I was not invited.
He and his intended flew off to Hawaii for the wedding, with their attendants.
The rest of us had to be satisfied with an invitation to their reception after they returned home. My wedding gift to my grandson and his bride was a professionally framed and sealed and museum glassed copy of my double poem, "The Bride's Prayer and The Bridegroom's Prayer". in hopes that it would last as long as I deeply wanted their marriage to last.
The other three weddings were the results of many months of planning and I received a formal invitation to each one. In late August my great-grandniece married her fiance in a military wedding. The reception was held in the Officers Club and was planned to the last detail. In September my own great-granddaughter held her wedding in my
yard and the weather cooperated beautifully. It was small, around fifty guests. Rented decorated tables held a feast worthy of a more opulent wedding. The groom was as handsome and the bride as beautiful as those in the wedding magazines they had consulted in order to avoid the high expense of a wedding planner.
The last wedding was held the last Saturday in October and the bridegroom was my favorite great-grandnephew. His beautiful bride was dressed in a lovely formal gown, under which she wore...cowgirl boots. Her eight attendants wore flirty. short, black dresses and...cowgirl boots. Western music was played and a catered meal of Western food was served to the two hundred guests. No expense was spared for this wedding. It was held at a remodeled cattle barn which has been turned into a beautiful social hall and rented out for just such occasions. The minister said it was the twenty-fifth wedding ceremony held in that building at which he had officiated.
These were all joyous affairs and my prayer is that all parties will all be able to observe their 75th anniversaries and are still as happy as on these, their wedding days.
"Good Morning Heartache"- Billie Holiday
Born to heartache was Eleanor Fagan
in reform school by 9 in Baltimore, Maryland.
At 11 years old she was almost raped.
But she was blamed and jailed for the case.
When 14 she was arrested again,
for her and mother's prostitution game.
What a sad life for a child, you might say.
But this heartache gave birth to Lady Day.
She sang with Artie Shaw, Count and the Duke.
She sang of "southern trees bearing strange fruit."
In her voice you could tell what pain was all about.
It was catharsis for her tragic life sung out.
She suffered the pangs of drug addiction,
with frequent busts, arrests and convictions.
A pearly white gardenia graced her ear.
At Carnegie Hall, she was something to hear.
As she lay ill the law came in again.
Handcuffed to the bed, her life came to an end.
So, "God bless the child, that got her own,"
our Billie Holiday whose heartache's gone.
2/12/17
Eleanora Fagan, professionally known as Billie Holiday, and Lady Day was an American jazz musician and singer-songwriter with a career spanning nearly thirty years. She died at 44.
I can't play a single musical instrument to save my life.
I guess I could if I really tried, but who has the time
to put aside and sacrifice other pleasures that I indulge religously,
my poetry, love of photography and most importantly,
quality time spent often with my fur babies,
but all is not lost with today's technology.
Computer programs presently allow me
to play any musical instrument professionally,
well, not exactly.
I can program any musical instrument at whatever tone or speed,
or combination thereof to compose a musical masterpiece.
Bucket List Item #, oh whatever, just do it eventually;
Compose And Perform
One Of The Greatest Music Orchestrations Ever Released,
even though it will only truly be
composed and performed by me virtually
with computer programing technology.
FOES AND FRIENDS (D’SCRIPT)
It all happened so sudden and so perfect
Just like a script, no single line was missed
Just like a stage, everybody played their own part
It was a free role; everybody was free to play their best part
To the best of profession; the drama went so professionally
In this stage, the protagonist made the decision of his worst fears
He chose the path of slaying every single dragon that is haunting him
He started off with the little dragons that breathe no fire but haunts him
It didn’t start off well and it ended up so tragically a movie
In the very end; Foes got separated from friends.
Many antagonists; one protagonist
So many things to endure; one heart
Endurance became too much a burden
In a twinkle of an eye, it all exploded
Intimidation got in line, no more patience
It is a war; a fight for pride and self-redemption
Friendship torn apart, there is no let go
Everybody was right but someone was wrong
To every right thing; the wrong tongue made a speech
In the very end; Foes got separated from friends.
Fate does not have an escape; it’s a final destination
Fate plays its role to the end; it’s a ghost protocol mission
Sometimes it is good the bad things happen and something new learnt
To every bad situation, there is a good lesson; that’s what I meant
Friendship is more expensive to money; thought the wise said so
In trouble, money the issue, friends run away; the fool proved so
There will always be misunderstandings; cases will always be settled
To some misunderstandings, no understanding; some cases can’t be settled
Everything will never be the same as before even if the friendship continues
Foes and Friends; The script still continues…
…Lordvip…
The Queen's henchmen penetrate professionally the porous perimeter,
as a Phyrric victory I pacified your Lady's legion,
for both in the open,like charriots missing riders,decentralized command,the measure,
I, like you maneuver behind the superior shelter of Praetorian's protection,
Levy the lurid seige upon my country's citadel as incensed infidels do,
your cantankerous catapaults wasting pawns like pebbles punched by a storming sea,
an officer sacraficed sardonically, intrepidly,
so to decimate the dormant foots encumbering you,
audacious as an angered asp the timely tactic was,will it hasten your demise to me?
Mandatory machinations amongst this moonlight morass,palpable being Death's caress,
a zephyer like a frosty scythe grazes gingerly our anxious eyes,
tethering the still strategy of mens' mentation,
advancing positions predicted but unproven, an apocolyptic inevitability provoked,
fostering inclement suspense,
justice is now beyond principle,virtue survives only on victor's blade,
incantations made in fire for fear's sublimation,
The common denominator of this prommenade of predation is relentless domination,
manipulating the opposition,perception taunted and haunted
as the fox dictates the chimerical chase,
a vermillion heartbeat,virulent,lucious,with a thin hum of vincibility
lures you to na spot of fragile dominion,
divided forces tend to scream like burning forest
when ambushed along trails of a tedious pace,
When the harp chords chortle tears of tucker from a skulless head,recall with dire dignity
that you were vanquished in strong purpose,
the memory of your egregious exploits will depend on the degree of quater
afforded by my soveriegnty
given to this proud harem of prospective sybils
rescued by a king's necessary nemesis,
J.A.B. - Part Three -
Just to give a prologue for this poem. I have an officemate who seems to love making a big fuss out of something so small. She's always in a high-pitched voice whenever her command was not being obeyed properly. She would shame you in front of an audience. But I tell you, she's not a boss, but she always act like one. She loves to bully a person by comparing herself, like she's always the best, like she's the perfect one, and all others are just behind her. I have experienced her bullying actions many times over. I have cried a lot of times. But I always act professionally, because I will never, ever stoop down to her level. For all who have experienced the same, and for all who are doing the same, this one's for all of you. Just remember that Karma is doing his work very well. So here it goes:
RESPECT IS EARNED
They say how you treat others tell your personality
And there will never be respect without humility
Good manners and politeness will define you differently
Because a person's a person, no matter how small they may be.
Speak up nicely when you have smart and valuable ideas
Have a broad mind to embrace our differences and uniqueness
Because a person's feeling could never be a solid rock
That you can throw over and over again, and never gets hurt.
The golden rule always tell it's important lesson
Teaching us to value each and every creatures
Because in the eyes of GOD we are all His treasures
No one is perfect, but we are all valuable to the nation.
Respect is earned, and it will never be given
So treat others the way you want to be treated
You can always say it nicely, politely and humbly
Believe me, blessings will come your way indefinitely!