Best Proof Poems
A foggy Cuervo morning
I crawl out of my bed
Stagger to the bathroom
With a pounding in my head
It’s just another Sunday
Things can’t get much worse
I think i’ll write a poem
Yes, another drunken verse
Tiny glass of 80 proof
What courage you gave me
To dance upon a table
While crooning karaoke
I truly thought that I could sing
I could hear the people cheer
Then I lost my footing
And fell right on my rear
Now falling off of tables
Isn't really all that dumb
Cause I got such a chuckle
Telling everyone to kiss my bum
I kissed a man I didn’t know
You think that’s absurd
Well his wife was rather angry
When I flipped her the big ol bird
When Jose takes control of me
I have no pride or shame
Doesnt really matter much
Cause no one knows my name
I drank until the wee hours
Things were going great
Until that final shot of gold
That sealed my eveings fate
I spent some time talking
On a ice cold porceline phone
If I survive this night
Tomorrow I will atone
Well today is tomorrow
So forgive me for my sin
Never again will I drink tequila
Instead I’m drinking gin
Bullet Proof
If I was a bullet I would travel real fast
Take showers in the past
Use gun powder to keep me dry
Shop at Target
And avoid people at all cost
If I was a bullet I would buy a gun
A small one, for company
Challenge Superman to a race
Or simply let him leap tall buildings, if he were so inclined
As I leap to my own conclusions by his side
If I was a bullet I would go to Mexico
Drink tequila real slow to get inebriated
Finish off bottles of 90 proof vodka to prove a point
That I can become bullet proof in any old joint
9/01/14 The Poet - Poetry contest
So, do you tell all your friends that you have loves gun to my head?
My legs work just fine it's easy to get up and walk away from this bed
Love is not a chain welded for your misuse
My heart's not
an anvil for your hammer
to forge my abuse
For all the depth
and warmth to you
that my eyes did show
You are about to find
out how deeply low my
heart's A/C can go
A priest made the sign of a cross
Then knelt to pray to his boss
A pigeon flew by
And baptised the guy
To prove prayers do not gather moss
The cool morning, finds leaves splattered around the lawn
My thoughts turn inward
Judging...my life
Pondering if I have lived
Self absorbed,
Or with purpose
Greater than myself
Increase my gratitude!!
Each day I live
Realization hits hard that
I need mercy more and more each day
The flesh is weak though the spirit is willing
Thoughts are my proof of living
Breathe in and out
Each breath I need Thee.
Each Breath I praise Thee.
Ponder the lengthy life of our planet
Here we are for only a bitty blink
Many creative creatures now span it
Each having hardly enough time to think
Seemingly senseless gnashing of the truth
Turning it all about and running round
Silently stopping, then there's just poof
Leaving little trifling traces to be found
Funny how flawed and frail we all are
Never knowing what will nudge us next
Mostly seeking some silly thrills thus far
Impacting human lives to small effect
We were wondering who will carry on
Without warning we poof, then we're gone
6/20/21
The skeptic says, prove it and I'll believe,
prove God is real and I'll believe--but,
I answer, how can I prove the reality
of a Being that is beyond the lines of
space and time, life and death: eternal....
How can I even grasp the idea of God,
when I can think one thought at a time,
speak with one voice at a time, hope
and love with but a single heart--how
can I see God with the eyes of men?
How can I prove my love for God,
His love for me, even for the skeptic?
After reading opinions of many PS poets, I'm sick of hearing phrases like,
"it's causing big problems," "making me heartbroken," "it sickens me," and many other negative thoughts that are detrimental to the site. I've given up trying to comprehend why some use it and claim it as their own. It's the same with plagiarizing, so I'll save myself the angst of using similar phrases because this is how I see it...
They come in all sizes, shapes, and each gender
posting poetic words that to them do not belong
and then deny it. To the truth they'll not surrender
AI users and plagiarizers will never admit the wrong
I've grown weary reading about it and I'm disconnecting
from caring if they keep getting away with it on the soup
I've stopped using detectors for those I've been suspecting...
ones who continue to debase themselves; it's low to stoop
Sadly, I've seen "Gotcha" written too often in the last year
Proof's been sent to those who should uphold their claim
Written words in PS established rules are not upheld here
leaving AI users and plagiarists getting away with their game
What drives you to steal poetry of others and call AI your own?
Is it because there's no harsh penalty from the administration?
People, you who call yourselves 'poet,' I cannot condone
those who cheat again and again and face no degradation
My eyes will be blind to those users and their schemes
I'll write what I choose as long as I'm pleased with my lines
Attention to mentioned issues has gone far beyond extremes
It's a legitimate gripe but I'm done with complaints and whines
Proof in Lock of Hair and Baby Tooth
‘Love you mama’
Shouts a fairy’s
baby tooth
set long before
in a violet velvet box.
‘Miss you lots’
whispers mama,
eyes fixed as she
fondles the
pearly bit.
This kind of love
so fast, no force
of wind can pry
from a mother’s
heart hammered to pieces
clumsily restored
with loving epoxy
and homemade patches
of friends and
family.
Time’s stitches transform
the gaping wound in
scabby healing
and finally the
scar – another proof.
©Kathryn McL. Collins
Woo oh oh oh
All that I am
I am living proof of a loving God
Woo oh oh oh
All that I am
I am living proof of a loving God
Been through such, so much
Perfect peace, been released
Flowing from my Father’s cup
Been allowed pangs N pains
Been through a lot of strange things
O’ I am, I am, living proof of a loving God
Hallelujah
Even in my mess, never the less
I am ever blessed my sin in whole, expunged delivered an forgiven
I was a mess, now a forgiven sinner saved by grace
OH! All that I am, I
I am a living proof of a loving God
3/17/25
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.2025©
All I need, groceries
This may be my last meal
If living is a gamble
You know just how I feel
I have not seen light
For a time span far gone
What is now weakening
Had once built me strong
The empire of nothing
Alone in my own thinking
Never second thoughts
When it could be sinking
Money seemed a friend
We just became too close
What does it buy here
When I become your ghost
Led astray, put under
Aired out as if some rug
Treated like I became
A pestilent, trivial bug
I never fought enough
Hoping dreams held truth
Imagine how revealing
It is being living proof
She is a Battle Babe
make you mouth her as a FAV. ,
all her work an automatic save, a rage'n rave,
getcha cravin the ultimate poetic shave
makin demons a quick grave and enticin angels to misbehave,
She's a Battle Babe, no chance her style fades, she got genius in spades,
covert clout leavin you shamed with sheer doubt, livin to learn her upshot ways,
offend ya with a biting wit, pen ya witha whip whetted on the blood of your best days,
love ya like a lionized legionare, waste ya like a puny prisoner pinned against her spiked legs,
wicked wrath and affectionate genuflection the perfection of the Battle Babe's barbarous pathways,
the Patron Poetess of the Lady Ink Crew not fearin you, not hatin you,
she's just beatin every ounce of you
You say she's crazy, lazy and hastey
some sort of Prima Donna in distress lost in lunacy pastey,
but this is simply a rumor reflected from your own filthy and phony majesty,
she prepares for battle settled and seasoned
like a lioness in love with the last hour of hunger
quiet and confident, instincts infallible in Society's saddistic scramble,
pupils green aglow, piercing the pale lies of this business' infatuation with profit's ramble,
the salt of twilight stings her senses, your stunted reaction she will savor
thoughts of your company falling from her K-9's kill of what was once friendship once reasoned,
she will annihilate facts in the false traffic of your tabulated fantasy,
she will destroy you for assuming truth in sunshine made from touted travesty -
J.A.B.
History repeating itself.
Michael Tor
Rugged clothes hung simply on their shadowed souls,
uncertainty and concern masking their faces
They stand to show us--
Show us the hardships of their time,
A rough log house, yet appreciated like
the dawn of a new day. Almost all hope extinguished,
washed down the drain, But- a little fire still twinkles;
it shines behind their cold-cut faces, like a candle
cloaked by a sheet. An oil lamp oil sets perched
on the side of the house, a blanket draped lazily
across the side. These people marched on no matter
what the challenge, they were skinny bulls in a bull
fight, The Great depression changed people, but
they are American proof of living, no
surviving a time that never should have been.
There were millions of other people that could have been here on this Earth in your place, but it was you that made it. It was you against all odds; blind and in the dark, you chased Gods Love and won.
We all love to be Winners and Champions. It breaks our heart to be called a Loser; that's why God made the beginning of our Existence a big race against millions, a race like you'll never be involved in again (millions entered, one (you) and only one (if your not a twin), Lived on, while the others perished. No one can or ever should call someone else a loser (we are a World of Champions)...because no race is more important than the race to Existence, and nothing won is more Valuable than the reward of God's Air, His Water, Grass, Mountains, our Universe, the Ability to and be Loved, but most of all and more importantly...God's Gift of Individuality and Choice.
We all are Winners, Champions of a Great Race Forgotten.
To call some one a loser is to call Our Great Creator and the manner in which we became to be, a lie.
By Anthony BamBam!! Thomas
Author Notes
I'm on a mission to create outstanding people through reviling Proof of God's Love in our Design and Life
© Anthony Thomas. All rights reserved