Best Qualification Poems
Can You Imagine
In Our Planet
If one fine day..
All trees are given a chance to speak-
What will they speak to us?:
'What have you EGOISTIC humans
Caused to our ENVIRONMENT?'
If one fine day..
Mother Earth is given a voice
What will She say?
Her thunderous voice will echo
From her outer atmosphere:
'Stop polluting me NOW or
Bear the CONSEQUENCES'.
If one fine day..
All the money in the world is
Equally distributed
Amongst everyone
Then there will be:
'No POOR, No RICH'
If one fine day..
Our planet follows this rule:
Total darkness henceforth.
But only those that show humanity
Be blessed to see radiance of light:
'There will be NO INHUMANITY'
If one fine day..
All employers take this decision-
The only qualification needed
To acquire a job is-
'Good Character':
'Then parents will NEVER FAIL
To instill MORAL VALUES
Into their children'
If one fine day..
The infinite universe stoops down
To say something to us from above
What would that be?:
'To every human being out there
Prancing with pride:
You are NOTHING but
A GRAIN of SAND
In an ENDLESS desert.
So, stop being ARROGANT!'
Cold,
numb
In my
deep depths of
vanished existence
Runs in darkness without a goal
I never resting, goes in opposite directions
Unknown in wilderness without qualification, even tears freeze to ice crystals
03.01.2019
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Writing Challenge January, 2019
- Poetry Contest -
Sponsored by: Dear Heart
Fibonacci : 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21
1st place in the contest
Poem of the Day: 05.01.2019
Oh , how I desire universal, racial equality.
Not just forced “liberal” politically imposed. morality.
It must spring from each soul, free as a spring flower.!
Not forced to swallowed, as a lump of hard coal.
Color does not, in anyway make one superior.
Conversely., color does not make any human being, inordinately inferior..
Your abilities and intelligence. should be the only qualifications, for a job.
Not skin .color, of which the many souls, highly qualified, are indeed, robbed,
Even for a poet, such a qualification is a horrid, morbid sin.!
It takes morality, and accepting a human, for the skin they
were born in!
2/2/2023
It never is too late to start
Pursuing what you dream.
Listen closely to your heart...
Allow your mind to stream.
Do not let status or age
Instill crisis within you.
Successfully turning the page?
Only if you decide to.
All of us when we are younger
Wish that we could be
A certain someone - this, we hunger
For innocently.
Many of us follow through,
Becoming with ambition.
Life goes on for others who
Do not reach such fruition.
Time, effort, determination...
All of which are needed
Concerning a qualification
Being earned - succeeded.
When it comes to a career
And all of its deployments,
Necessary to hold near...
Your passions and enjoyments.
Caught up in our daily lives...
Succumbing to routine.
Suppression of ambitious thrives
Which go unheard, unseen.
Commonly, what was desired
Is lost or forgotten.
Their fruits from a tree inspired...
Now, fallen and rotten.
At any given time, this tree
Can produce and provide
More fruits, of which you are free
To choose in your decide.
Will you come into your own...
Take up what makes you clever?
To say the least, this much is known...
Better late than never.
infant life
near to celestial region in sense
just born after it's journey
knows nothing about materiality
smells fragrance till the life grows to child
in environment
from childhood lessens that fragrance
material's felt essence for need
qualification education and wealth
helps to have fame of deemed destination
Taenia Saginata – oh isn't that a pretty name
If you find one in your burger it sure would be a shame
Roundworms, flatworms and flukes can be found in beef, pork or fish
Wouldn’t it be disgusting if you found one in your dish!
Meat and fish need thorough cooking to kill these nasty beasts
Then you are safe to eat and enjoy your fish or meaty treats
I’m studying for a food safety qualification for work – this is one of the little gems I have been reading about!
4th June 2015
Unifying Theories of Chemistry
Plants react in synthesis
Stimulations sunlight
Breathing the winds causes
Through fluid chains
Reproducing flowering responses
And systematically chemistries
Drive in attractions of curiosity
Stranger love crushes
To your ignition sexual A-symmetry
Produces adrenaline's certain heat
And senses blood pounding
So photosynthetic initiates
The A.T.P. of chemical currency
Splits living links furthering
More simple to more complex
Colour element changing
Leaf green to red Anthocyanin
As well as a suntan
Skins concourse in molecules
Precipitates and reverberates
The bonded genome of D.N.A.
Creating myriad form
Tangent on thoughts
Even dreams
Evolve chemical reactions
While sun by sea explodes
Atomically
The light amino manifestation
Walks among trees
Respiring in cycles
Of exchanging formulations
Alchemy of oxygen’s infusing
And well with emotion
Binds its stanza’s of interpretation
Given word then
Another descriptions connection
To connection
Connected
By a star lights birth
Indivisible this “All” travels
Forth and back to a
Higher or lower osmotic pressure
And back and forth
Between lovers
As waves drawn to beaches
By the gentle pull
Of sands moon distracted
Infatuated affair
With the Earth
This chemistry of love
The chemical of life
Patterns intricate mazes
In a micro-cosmos
Of eternal meaning
And a baby
Is born
While the boundless eternity
Moves and collects
Responsive concurring
Dust mote intercepts
From wide eyes stares
Which interpret
A scene
Of its own manifest beauty
Even in tears of sadness
The ceretonine balances
To intercede with memories
Moments of happiness
The infinite qualification
Of chemical reaction
Clues us in
Yet again
To this fundamental
Unity
I forgive you my dear country
And her ignoramuses
To my televangelists who prophesy
earthquakes
And hellfire
Instead of love and forgiveness
So they steal from the poor
To buy miracles from God;
To my shopkeeper who doubles the
price
Of flour at will
Even before Kidero completes his
speech
On taxes
I forgive you all.
I forgive you, brother
For refusing my handshake
Because I'm well-off than you
As if being rich is a crime.
I forgive you Mr Bossman
For turning down my job application
Though my only un-qualification
Was I failed to belong to your clan.
I forgive you my uncle back home
For perpetually grabbing my farm
Because I'm always in town
Getting a life for myself
When your sons are the chief's
drones
Who grab chickens from helpless
widows
And lynch witches in the village.
I forgive you too my ambitious
cousins
For conning me when you promised
To get me a job in your company
Immediately I'm through with
college.
I forgive you Mr. Policeman
For innocent incarceration
Torture
And hefty fines
Though you know I was innocent.
I forgive you Wamboi
For eating my money
Then running away with my children
And half of my wealth.
To my White brothers who think we
still live in the bush with antelopes
And harass us at their embassies
And airports
I forgive you too.
Before you clone another virus to
kill my people
I forgive you.
To all vagrants who rape our women
And slash the throats of fellow
Kenyans for money
I forgive you all.
To my bright law-makers in
parliament
I forgive you for your lies
I know I will see you again in 2017
In brand new bank notes
And brand new promises
And I will still forgive you.
To my colleagues fighting for
recognition
And job promotions
And wishing me jobless
I forgive you too
Your're just victims of greed
And selfishness.
To my heads of state
Sparking wars at will
Puppets of neo-colonialism
I forgive you too.
It's not in my position to judge
Or condemn you
History will do that.
Lastly
I forgive myself
For being too human
And trusting too much.
In this Rhyme I will give a translation of the formation of a nation. Remember this is not a dictation it's just a narration of the creation of a civilization. AMERICA is not only our classification but also our identification. The Country has a place with a registration, through which you will find liberation of information, because the Country holds all of the documentation that will give you an elaboration of your expectation. So go to AMERICA for a precise interpretation. To join you must have a certain qualification of sophistication, individuation, determination and no limitation of dedication. In this Country we are a family of inspiration. We all may work and live in different locations, but together we give this WORLD a certain rotation. See with admiration, consideration, explanation we have cultivation. With taxation and donation of money and gold we give the World hydration. Our secret tech, you could say is the medication for confrontation.
So now I hope we all have an inclination that together we form a population, that is dedicated to all forms of exploration . We are a Generation that if placed in the stars would form the greatest constellation. We are AMERICA under God and that's our proclamation. David Lee Waldrop.
Mi have a serious problem with you young people that have no clue about our history or our culture.
"Mi nuh wear tablecloth like Miss Lou".... Dear Lord help the clueless... Send help father God if yuh nuh busy
Miss lady... Yes, you... how yuh fi call up the mother of our culture, Miss Lou name like yuh can walk in a her shoes?
Louise Simone Bennett-Coverley or Miss Lou, Jamaican poet, folklorist, writer, and educator
Miss Lou a national treasure and you are yesterday gone out of style fabric... "Gabardine" ... Here today, gone tomorrow... No one will remember you...no one will care... Kiss mi teeth... Get some knowledge... Only a dunce would touch an icon like our great poet, our first lady of our culture ... Classless... You need to come out of the Kardashian and Bling, Bling culture and understand your history
Pretty and dunce is not a qualification... History lesson 101... Miss Lou took our language to the world and made it acceptable so you and I could speak "Patois"...You classless girl
The fabric she wore is a symbol of Jamaica, our National Costume a part of our festival, a celebration of our culture... Yuh uninformed and classless girl... Pretty is not a qualification... Get a clue then remember to say the Honorable Louise Simone Bennett-Coverley you don't call her Miss Lou because you don't have "NO "clue.
Education..
Communication
Association
Information
Utilization
Recommendation
Qualification
Without
Hesitation
Limitation
Or
Fabrication
Anticipation
Determination
Innovation
Occupation
Education..
Lips combine
To say,“Amma”, the Mother Divine.
Amma – the sweetest word the first alphabet can provide
And the tongue safely rests inside!
Amma
Is sweet ambrosia.
O! she sees!
And my sorrows cease.
Her face
Reveals the divinest grace.
Her touches rinse
All my brutal sins.
O! she kisses and embraces!
I’m changed, I confess.
Then, she whispered something in my ear
It was so soft that my heart alone could hear!
It is a lesson
No father cares to teach his son.
It is a skill
A master is yet to teach his pupil.
It is an art
No educational system is fit to impart.
It is a position
That demands no university qualification.
It is an opportunity
That is never going to be easy.
It is a vocation
Where none can decide the remuneration.
It is a quality
Even the wise men envy.
It is a legacy
That no forefather has passed to his progeny.
It is a wealth
That is not owned by stealth.
It is a treasure
Beyond measure.
It is a fortune
That dances not with the rich man’s tune.
It is so priceless
That any price assigned makes its value less.
It is a noble virtue
Practised by very few.
It is a burden
For the weak-minded men.
It is a wish
Even the greatest yogins are yet to accomplish.
It is a want
A pleased God is yet to grant.
It is so human
That no Gods can attain but men!
It is as easy as easy can be!
It is as hard as hard can be!
Now let me reveal
The words Amma made me feel
What she beautifully said
What my heart at once responded
Was composed of only a few words, not many!
Ah! it was a new Vedic hymn to me.
She only said: “Serve mankind
With a selfless mind”.
The title of this poem was taken from the theme for a contest on another site. Contest hosts playing favorites is an issue that many of you here in PS have stuck in your craw...whether you admit it or not. Below is my entry, which I didn't write with the hope of winning. The rule was to write 8 - 12 lines of something bright and lively. This hardly meets that qualification, but nonetheless...
Another poem that did not place
That sponsor is such a disgrace
awarding the win to a friend
It's difficult to comprehend
Why, that's not a contest at all
not worth entering with my scrawl
I come not to bury the host
Nor raise a glass in honored toast
I've written what was in my craw
I'll use pen and paper to draw
unless I know all will be fair
I'll post my poetry elsewhere
Walking about las ramblas at night you can see the desperation with a constant feeling of trepidation
People that never got much of an education not one qualification
Prostitutes selling their body to feed a habit and pay for their accommodation as Dealers sell to addicts who want that pleasurable sensation to forget about their life situation
You can buy heroin or crack or if you want a combination while the police and big gangsters are actually in communication giving them money so they don't launch a single criminal investigation so they can smoothly run their operation and there is no threat to their illegal money making organisation
You can even see people sleeping on the ground that had left their home nation in search of a better life but only found poverty and social devastation
As the days draw out I spy a human-heron trying his patience and mine,
trying to persuade the wind by genuflecting before it on this sunny quite
late afternoon to lift this bird-man to be converted between the rugby posts
to get two points for the union code as if it a ritual or a qualification for this
bi-cameral being to float over this fen on the edge of their and our England.
A whisper of cloud is the only object to adorn or besmirch the winter blue
sky as it cops out of converting between the post, teases the reddish tall
trees and salutes the sunset on a horizon that it is said by foreigners from
elsewhere in England go mad as though adrift in a a of land that mimics
the North Sea horizon as two streaks of sunlight cross behind them in
warning at this creatures presumption as the human-heron stretches his
wide wings and lands in the inimitable determined and ungainly manner.
The next few days are not my mobile's as we are being celled by dirty
gloomy, cloudy, cold, snow flaked weather; weather that in Britain only
exists so that family, friends, neighbours, and strangers from near and
far can have something not too controversial to talk, moan about, and to
indulge in that pleasant pastime of agreeing that if the weather is good
to the human-heron and us we will have to pay for it even if it is only the
wrong choice wearing clothes over our human or human- heron selves.