Best Refute Poems
I dreamed that I stood in a valley, and amid sighs,
For happy lovers passed two by two where I stood;
And I dreamed my lost love came stealthily out of the wood
With her cloud-pale eyelids falling on dream-dimmed eyes.
William Butler Yeats
Notions had gathered inside my head;
a wanderlust that refused to be denied.
Within my mind, the need of love was bred,
burned in tongues of fire that torched a hole
inside my heart and seared my soul.
I sought the finest wine from the valley floor,
to sate my thirst when he'd stand at my side.
I climbed heathered hills; crossing streams
Down twisting paths I ambled, taking wrong turns
until I found the enchanting vision in my dreams,
and feasted on the fruit of my heart's desire.
But too soon he slipped from my arms.
Left behind were his vespers in passion's embers,
and fading echoes of his whispered words.
Time rushed through years like sifting sand
but the fire he kindled has not died.
I remember the gentle touch of his hand,
and sweet moments of devotion we stole.
Now, with feeble steps I remain in pursuit
of memories we made long ago in the valley.
I hear his voice in the wind, and I cannot refute
that love's flame still burns within my soul.
An interpretation of ''The Song of Wandering Aengus,"
by William Butler Yeats.
Categories:
refute, love,
Form:
Rhyme
"Love Me Or Hate Me" ~ Says the Limerick
I am only five lines written for fun
Mocking someone with foolish words of pun
Love 'em or hate 'em
You praise or condemn
A poetry form some call "hit and run"
Some think of me as inconsequential
To the haughty I am nonessential
It's a thought I refute
And would gladly dispute
Cuz nothing I say is confidential
I read Jan's limericks about Tess Tickle
But did you know Tess spent her last nickle
Buying new underwear
Cause she hadn't a spare
She kept leaking in some sort of trickle
Tess had a good friend with the name of Neve
Cheated by keeping aces up her sleeve
She thought she was smart
Until she got caught
That taught her it doesn't pay to decieve
And then there was the one they called Maisy
Made faces that caused her to look crazy
One day her eye got stuck
And she looked like a duck
So now everyone calls her Miss Daisy
There once was a gal whose name was Mary
Wore wings pretending she was a fairy
Then I swear on my word
She flapped 'em like a bird
And started singing like a canary
Heard them tell about a gal named Sally
Made money hanging out in the alley
But then she got greedy
With those who were seedy
It was curtains in her grand finale
I used to know a chesty lass named Pam
She had to tote them around in a pram
Then had an operation
A booby castration
I heard she now goes by the name of 'Sam'
Did you hear about the one called Yvette
She can't remember and started to fret
It made me want to cry
I can't figure out why
Umm.. umm.. I'm too old and tend to forget
Categories:
refute, poetry,
Form:
Limerick
let me make an argument for love you can’t refute
I want to win you
I want you to be convinced
I’m the best thing that there is
give heed to this, my argument of logos
for in that you will find peace
it makes sense
logical
I can satisfy your needs
a good arrangement
I know the empty spaces
of your heart
I will make you whole
completion is within reach
I am here
and what of ethos?
am I credible?
are you scared to trust in me?
afraid you will break
like before
By others who were untrue
stop keeping the score
I am not of the same hue
my color is faithfulness
I will never let you fall
ask anyone to testify of my honesty
ask now
believe
I am the real deal
rest in this my bed of honest devotion
trust me
in my eyes truth lives
I am credible
let my actions of the past now speak to you
dispelling your doubt
I am genuine
never fear
what can compare to pathos?
my all-encompassing love?
the oceans are impotent
the “mighty” waves weak
so unlike the mighty swells of my passion
that pound
that withdraw
only to come crashing down
stronger
Leaving you gasping for breath
pulling you under
again and again
tugging and churning
helpless in my liquid arms
the moon hides
unable to compete with my love for you
shamed by the brilliance
of my devotion
she gathers the stars
my love can illuminate
your way in the darkest night
even the sun is no match
to the fiery heat my passion ignites
wilder than an inferno
hot flares
Oh….so....H O T
it blazes with licking tongues of desire
able to melt your restraint
consuming
let it set you on fire
let it sear your heart
let me smell the scent of your burning body
in my unquenchable flame
I implore you to consider my great love
it is life
it goes beyond life
it is deep
it goes beyond depth
it goes beyond star embroidered veil of night
it goes beyond the horizon of today
tomorrow
and eternity
consider my love
the logos
ethos
and above it all, pathos
let them be my voice
open wide your heart to me
…today
don’t wait
surrender to me
s u r r e n d e r
to...M E
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Categories:
refute, desire, love, truth,
Form:
Suzette Prime
My husband bought a little treat,
A favorite thing I love to eat.
We rarely see this anywhere
So take advantage when it’s there.
I never ate this in my youth
For what’s inside, to tell the truth,
Is something that did not compute –
It seemed more veggie than a fruit.
I’m talkin’ rhubarb, as in pie,
With strawberries to satisfy
My taste buds, waiting to explode;
Of course, this will be a la mode.
If you have never sampled this,
You’ve missing out on certain bliss
But if my tastes you do refute,
We’ll have a rhubarb (a dispute)!
Categories:
refute, food,
Form:
Rhyme
He deems the ways and dares to understand,
a measure of a love that went astray,
from libelled forces, which compelled his hand,
to lies, and morals left to slow decay.
No one forgo or risk refute her right,
a stubborn choice is seldom steered by sense.
To cease callow mishaps from leaving blight .
sound case to aid her act of self-defence.
Yet, who can purge despair from a man’s soul,
who boldly baulked against such mortal deed?
His choice dismissed as outside his control,
no matter pleading creed, indeed, his breed.
Such anguish will forever convolute
because abstracts are never absolute.
06.27.21
You are free to choose, but you are not free to alter the consequences of your decision
– Ezra Taft Benson (politician)
Categories:
refute, abortion, anxiety, lost love,
Form:
Sonnet
When we sat together,
we whispered almost as one,
not as conspirators,
but as mentor and acolyte,
and you spoke of things that I did not comprehend
yet with words that I knew were true.
You warned me of a chimera,
I've fallen prey to several since.
When we stood counter,
we opposed one another's reason,
not as equals,
but as victor and vanquished,
and you spoke of things that I could not escape
and with words that I could not refute.
You warned me of your power,
I still dare not deny.
And I may have known at once,
or I may have known at last,
that you were The Emperor's Sage
and I was the jester's cur.
26th August 2018
Categories:
refute, conflict, mentor, wisdom,
Form:
Free verse
Sometimes, I find myself on a battleground
in the present or in sieges from the distant past
It may be a war I've been waging within myself,
a thorn that needs plucking so that I might heal
I wear no crown, nor do I wish to be gowned
in regal robes and sit upon a throne looking down
on anyone. For me, those things hold no appeal
I am rebellious against the many wrongs I've seen
and if you think it's mean of me to feel that way—
You don't know me well enough to pass judgement
With regret, I've been the cause of an Angel's weeping
when down a misguided path I chose to walk
Mistakes? I've made my share of them, maybe more
but I've always tried to amend my faults in some way
Indemnity is not always reimbursed with coin
More often than not, my tears the price to pay
Sometimes, even I have not found the sentience of it—
things I do; emotions I feel. No reason as to why except
that I am compelled without restraint or prudence to try
I refute the need to live by the creed of the golden rule—
for only a fool would claim the world is a righteous place
where smug faces play fair in games of love and war
If I am defeated, I never hesitate to stand again
for I've always despised the thought of white flags
and retreating like a coward again and again, in sad refrain
I garner resilience and strength from every enemy I meet
and in defeat, my stratagem sharpens much keener
I am not a warrior; that's not the path I want to take
I've been storm tossed in seas of turbulent weather
When faced with animosity, I will not shiver and quake
Offered silk or suit of armor— I prefer a softer demeanor
Self-professed I am supple of breast
Heart not crafted from leather
From flesh, blood and bone
Of the gender called woman
I was not chiseled from stone
Categories:
refute, how i feel, woman,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
Sharp The Edges, Of Poet's Pen Turned To Fight,
( New Dawn,Third Battle And Final Slash ) -
Part Three
From within, a gifted calm brings a tranquil peace
to poet's soul that searched and found a new lease
and with foresight decided to take pen to write,
about shadowy black beast, that stabs in dark of night.
Now massive strength that old poets's pens often yields
succors heart and grants victory on battlefields
new ink hones blade, gifts poetic words that destroy,
that savage beast that sought to make a whipping boy!
From poetry comes a Light that, gives true powers
which destroys wicked beasts, lurking in dark towers
by shining wisdom from classic poetic verse,
to cut those, that such illuminations do perverse.
Lo! Be aware what may be found seeking true Light
Sharp the edges, of poet's pen turned to fight!
Robert J. Lindley, 10-19-2019
Sonnet, ( The Third And Final Battle-- Part Three)
Conclusion- Three Part Series..
Note: This is the last to be written on this subject in regards to
this specific incident. I offer this series for the hiding fool,
the worthless opponent to come on and try to refute.
nuff said... old poet, Still writing...
Categories:
refute, art, character, courage, judgement,
Form:
Sonnet
Jaimin sir, a kind man, with smile cute,
Prepared for supporting me in lawsuit
Is ready to fight against any odd acute;
Managing school and university with astute.
In the premises everyone does salute!
Revered for his perseverance which dilute
All miseries, anxieties and commute
Joyfully with him in leisure to compute
Your mistakes and victories that overshoot.
All liked him for his ability to refute.
Grumped man speaks cool like flute
Under omnipresence, one who does hoot
Ruins his own impression and does salute;
Unacceptable people do get execute
Surely; teachers like me are with parachute
Inspired by him to remove Prafulla persecute,
Remove such drastic elements for institute.
Categories:
refute, friendship, inspiration, inspirational, ,
Form:
Monorhyme
Dear Sir or Madam
I’m not in the habit of talking to air
But just for the moment I’ll talk like you’re there
My mind isn’t closed to your actual existence
My doubts are not simply a stubborn resistance
But I cannot see you, I can’t feel your touch
And logic decrees I require that much
I spurn no religion, refute no-one’s faith
I envy the way they feel cosy and safe
The way they feel shielded from final damnation
Instead to be offered eternal salvation
I don’t fail to see all the beauty on Earth
I never have sought to devalue its worth
But where it all came from, I’ve, almost since birth
Puzzled and fought that confusion with mirth
But I’m sure of one thing, your humour is sound
In fact I’d be tempted to call it profound
For only a God that had wit on his side
Would make man and put all his plumbing outside
The poems I write that make light of your majesty
I sense that you won’t see as insult or travesty
I’ve made light of you and your son and his mother
But I think you’ll smile and say tell me another
But now I must come down to Earth with a bump
For talking to air makes me feel like a chump
In spite of the beauty, the air that I breathe
As much as I’d like to, I just can’t believe
But maybe if I were to walk any street
And ashes and embers should shower my feet
Where a bush is ablaze for a fire’s been made
And it should say, ‘Hey, call the fire brigade.’
Then there might be hope for this cynical waif
For something like that might just give me faith
For now though I’ll try to live life good and fine
And maybe God willing, you’ll show me a sign.
Yours faithfully…
Categories:
refute, atheist, prayer, religion,
Form:
Rhyme
I am alone traveling light, so solitude
My God is intimate in his light;
He is quiet
Alone He speaks truth, absolute, so solitude;
My soul is solitude my mind self alone, I enjoy
His present soul shown;
Alone in essence in my gratitude
I'm absolute, nothing to refute;
No need to recluse, I choose isolation;
I belong to His Quiet Nation
My space, His grace, my faith
Solitude abundant
Me myself and I
Father Son and Holy Spirit El Shaddai
Me and my him and I my light brightly
Shines I am all His and He's mine
Together we thrive on the right side;
I am alone I stand surrounded by God's angels;
Alone I am solitude my soul finds peace and rest this is myself;
Me at my best, me alone in the arms alone with myself
On my Father's chest soul solitude
So solitude breath to breath, chest to chest
Alone together concentrate my own thoughts only unattended
And accomplished together with no humanity connection;
Thoughts alone I am one's own on;
His throne a singular traveling light lights;
I am alone traveling light soul solitude alone;
And in essence and my gratitude in Him everything is all right
A dedicated verse to Candace Djissenou
12/11/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2022
Categories:
refute, absence, analogy, deep, engagement,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
It's true that I was in town
When the trumpet sound
And soldiers came down
Spilling like ants on the ground:
Heralding the royal feast!
The Gods have had their seats
To celebrate the poet from the east
Whose lyrical prowess beats
The best they've ever heard.
It is heavenly inspired:
The lines of this bard,
His hands neither slack nor feel tired.
Here, the bard comes
Clothed in divine grace!
Let the trumpet sound; beat the drums
Let the world seek his face
For he has the power to heal.
His lines drew angels down
And make kings to kneel.
Let him have his prized crown.
Such is the power of poetry,
It is universal; devoid of bigotry.
It is the king's treasure,
It is a soldier's pleasure.
In that stately estate,
In that heavenly state,
Only to the brave
Would the sky be a grave.
It's true that everyone would die
Someday, that is why
If ever the poet should die;
Let his pen ascend to the sky,
Let heaven and earth mourn,
Let their tears turn to blood;
Let the graceful muses mourn,
Let their tears cause a flood
For the loss is without measure.
But there's end to every beginning
That's why the poet we should treasure
So that if he dies, he dies smiling.
Let the fire from his pen burn
First, in the heart of men
Then to the streets let its face turn,
Let it scorch the land till when
It has reached the palace and its tower
There too let it burn and smoke;
Let it bring every knee under its power,
Let it bring every neck under its yoke.
Such is the power of poetry,
It is universal; devoid of bigotry.
It is the king's treasure,
It is a soldier's pleasure.
In that stately estate,
In that heavenly state,
Only to the brave
Would the sky be a grave.
It's true that poets can be made
As much as they can be born,
There are those who trade in charade;
Who cannot our admiration won.
Behold the ancient bard!
Behold, in the morning he rises
With his book and ink in hand;
As sparkles flash from his eyes.
When in early morning birds are yet mute,
His countenance is always plain
He does not argue nor refute
But undisturbed he always remain!
In the abode of the poet
There is grandeur and majesty
Befitting a grand laureate poet
And a monument of modesty;
He is the poet at heaven's gate
Who have ran a fine race
He will never be late
He holds the ace.
Categories:
refute, celebration, destiny, poets, pride,
Form:
Couplet
What am I?
Just a body that expires
with its hungers and desires
At both ends?
- That depends
What am I?
A Myriad of grey brain cells
Whose synapsing rings my bells
Does the thinking and compute?
- That I refute
What am I?
Made in image of a god
That then decays and starts to nod
Eyes that dim and bones that ache?
- Must be some mistake
What am I?
One of the masses - not free willed
Promised to have our bellies filled
To be controlled for our own good?
- Not for me, although some would
What am I?
After four score year or two
Getting the hang of what to do
Then be totally snuffed out?
- That I doubt
What am I?
I am here and you are there
We all got to be somewhere
Seeing the world with admiration
- Worth consideration
What am I?
Where life’s images reside
In Mirror cracked from side to side
Mid the taking and the putting
- I am that which does the looking
What am I?
Maybe nothing you can touch
Not of flesh and bone and such
I am that which asks the question, wonders why
- “What am I?
Categories:
refute, me,
Form:
Rhyme
A day can make a harder week
A week can make a month of pain
A month of pain a year so bleak
It feels like drowning in the rain
These are the little riddles in the middle of insane
A little bit can satisfy
A little more can saturate
An overdose can nullify
And even can obliterate
This is a truth from early youth you should incorporate
The pain in gain is absolute
The loss we lose is lost to time
These are the rules beyond refute
There is no certainty sublime
Not even in the meter or perfection of the rhyme
The thing that brings contentment now
Can later be a heavy weight
The face of grace is changing how
We rearrange our future fate
These are the laws of caustic cause that make survival great
The hope to cope with life and stress
Is just a product of the game
Do not deny your own success
Nor feel a need for useless shame
Just calculate and educate to fuel survival's flame
A thought or two from me to you
As thoughts display a varied face
Some thoughts are false - some thoughts are true
So choose a truth you can embrace
And may your days be free to play a part in every race
Categories:
refute, pain, truth,
Form:
Rhyme
Twenty politicians standing on a wall
Oh what fun to see some fall,
Blabber, blabber, rue the day
They talk and talk but little say.
Yet they shout and argue too
About what I challenge you
To then repeat what they have said,
The mere thought just blows my head.
Each loves the sound of their own voice
And stand before us all by choice,
To have us judge who it shall be
With each one saying, me me me.
But like Pied Piper with his flute
The call to watch we can’t refute,
We sit and stare, comment and whine
As some just flounder past the line.
Yet for one the end is sweet
The entire cake they’ll get to eat,
Battered, bruised and mighty sore
Now almost at that White House door.
Categories:
refute, allegory, confidence, endurance, humor,
Form:
Rhyme