Best Reprimanding Poems
The city in the summer nights,
Beats a steady drum rhythm. Slow
Living does RHYME with time.
Strange be a drastic decision
Proceeding without permission.
Bad luck? Nothing but superstition.
Lying leads to reprimanding in. The
Lime light to pretending.
Love letters lead to a romance rekindled
And some slow dance of remembrance
As a symphony orchestra played late
Into the AFTER THOUGHTS of midnight' s
Afternoon.
Worthy of a perfect dream to much to
Conceive, which gives birth to unbelief
And the RETURN TO REALITY.
The city in the summer nights.
Beats a steady drum rhythm. Slow.
Categories:
reprimanding, city, dream, night, summer,
Form:
Free verse
Auntie
In her lofty ways, she was always
the best example of
the stars out-shining the moon.
Her ways of doing things always
correct and proper
she was a student of the Queen.
Place setting and
the china on the table all had to
be per the law.
And no PHD could outwit her with
her twelfth-grade education.
She though dignified and learned
always quoted un-biblical quotes
from other bibles.
"Cleanliness is next to Godliness ".
I would say well didn't
God make dirt too!?
Don't be asinine she would say-
Seemed as if the emphasis
would be on the "ass"
I would laugh... and when
she thought
I was not looking
she would laugh too.
Auntie could hardly
pass up a good humorous
exchange no matter how
ostentatious or outrageous.
Her well-groomed and well
manicured demeanor
was not just for Sundays.
She served her God faithfully
in words and in deeds every day.
I have never known her
to beg or borrow.
Never seen her complain as
"Arthur" took his toll on her knees.
She was faithful to the end
and though she had no
children of her own,
she was nurturer of all us
children whom were
blessed enough to be
corrected by her or to
eat a slice of her lemon
meringue pie.
Anytime I think of her
I remember the sweetest
music coming from
the piano that displayed
her mood with music-
Her piano voiced her
thoughts in pitch and
range; as she became
one with the keys and chords.
There was no room for "I can't"--
and no excuse not trying.
She finally gave up on me
playing the piano -
That ruler had taken
its toll on my knuckles
and even if you failed at any
attempt to do things as right
as she wanted:
After a hardy reprimanding
Auntie was sure to have my favorite
food and clean bed waiting for me.
I loved her so much that
every now and then
I must write about this amazing
Sister to my mother.
Her name...
Rosella Faye Graham Derrickson Myers ...
And yes, she would say her whole ''title"
if you were to ask her, her name.
Her spirit lives on...
In all the lives that she has touched.
Categories:
reprimanding, memorial day, strength,
Form:
Bio
Capital punishment
What year is it
I'm being spank with a switch
I am guilty
Mama whooping me
In 1960's
With a switch
a belt
some schools then a 2 by 4 paddle
For what I've done wrong
Lying the stealing
Who am I to call foul
God knows I know ma and pa do to
Even Jesus got whipped
But the difference
HE WAS TRULY INNOCENT
But the Father's plan
Him and Jesus allowed soldier man
To whip Him take His life
To pay the price
To save all mankind, their life
This sinless MAN CHRIST
Who always done right
Paid the price took the whooping's shed blood for us
Now if you spare the rod
You'll spoil the child
Far better to be spank righteously
No emotions or mali just reprimanding
Spank just as givin better for you to do it
Thank for the world to whip them
You'll make them just shed tears
While the world will draw blood and steal their souls
For what I've done wrong
Lying the stealing
Who am I to call foul
God knows I know ma and pa do to
Capital punishment
What year is it
I'm being spank with a switch
I am guilty
Mama whooping me
Now I'm a man grown up
What happens now when I'm disobedient
The Father spanks me
But His mercies and grace
Gives me another chance
So if I just turn around and change my ways
Capital punishment
What year is it
I'm being spank with a switch
I am guilty mama whooping me
Yes I was guilty so not to change the subject
I dottily dissevered capital punishment
Written by James Edward Lee Sr.2018©
4/19/18
Categories:
reprimanding, anxiety, child abuse, childhood,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
Mandela In You
I scanned into your entire writ
I perceived an unremitting wit;
There’s a Mandela in You,
Oozing from your daring script;
Loaded with a spirit of sacrifice
To eradicate mundane malice
There’s a Mandela in You,
That resonates in your artifice!
A Fighter for Mankind’s thrall,
Equality for gender and for all
There’s a Mandela in You
Reprimanding: Divided We Fall!
Peace is in your daring hand
Which you staunchly defend
For, Mandela in You says
“No to Civil Wars in our Land!”
Women also need their space
Enough to powder their face
There’s a Mandela in You
Lending impetus to their pace!
Antipathy, aloud do denigrate
Which Warmongers do initiate
There’s a Mandela in You,
With a smile that doesn’t fail;
It intones when Spirit is weary
Shining when the Sky is dreary
There’s a Mandela in You
Painting Blue the Sky so bleary!
Write, write, your mantra write
Let revulsion be in your write
For, there’s a Mandela in You
Pleading for Humanity to Unite!
Dedicated to Zimbabwean Poet, Wilson Mapfumo upon being inspired by his Poem: Cry Africa.
JM
14th Oct’ 2013
Categories:
reprimanding,
Form:
Rubaiyat
Sweet Little Lies
Those sugar-coated little sweet white lies,
could be at times, a chore that we despise.
To keep the peace, sometimes they are a prize
depending on how well the task applies.
With one you love, it often can be wise,
if asked a question where you must advise
like, "do I look okay," most times implies
a "yes dear" answer even though your eyes
observe miss-match of shirt and tie; disguise
your answer with affirmative replies.
And when he gives you candy as surprise,
though on a diet, telling him...unwise.
Or he goes shopping with your list and buys
some extra sweets like ice cream, cookies, pies...
you smile and say, "we needed new supplies,"
instead of reprimanding with your sighs.
Although your lie, "oh thank you dear," belies
your thoughts, it turns off impulse to chastise.
These small deceits in name of love give rise
to staying bonded...using sweet white lies.
Sandra M. Haight
~1st Place~
Premiere Contest: Sweet Little Lies
Sponsor: Silent One
Judged: 07/08/2016
Categories:
reprimanding, blessing, change, truth,
Form:
Monorhyme
As the sun fades o’er the water and birds chatter in the grove,
Two old, wrinkled, weary thinkers wander slowly by the cove.
Waves advancing and receding from the edges of the sea
Bring a bittersweet reminder of the things which failed to be.
Like the gloom above the water, they see history unfold,
Over men’s destinies, passions, unforgiving scepter hold.
As a cloud of heavy darkness o’er the limitless expanse,
Present, past, the very future are but pebbles in their hands.
To a bench in the old harbor they descend and take a seat,
Where their troubles they unburden every time they chance to meet.
One aged master stands in wonder at the beauty of the view,
While the other starts, with sadness, his life story to review:
“Hatred, envy, dread and fire, painful things I understand
And the soul’s most secret workings I can write out in the sand.
But, despite this precious knowledge and insight, I have a fetter
Which, insulting, reprimanding, I must carry to the letter.”
“For too long I’ve lived on Patmos isolated like a ghost
And by high decree commanded here to languish by the coast!
Once renowned and well respected, in Academies received,
All I have now is the shadow of the glories I have lived.”
“Bold discourses, fine attire, admiration from great men
Were all lost and I was given in exchange a prison den;
And, from all the wondrous splendor and richesse of Roman art,
I was taken to the gallows by a soldier in a cart.”
“Much as I had put my people and my honor above all,
Not a single word or action could at last prevent my fall,
For inside the Coliseum and the marble halls of Rome
A new cult and gravest danger uninvited found a home.”
“Surging waves of superstition from the Great Sea’s eastern banks
Have for many years infested all the army and its ranks.
Countless monks and shrewd fanatics with no passion for our culture
Have for three centuries labored to dethrone the Roman vulture.”
“From Hibernia to Egypt, from Hispania all egregious,
Many fools and witless beggars have in stupor joined their aegis.
Marble statues of the heroes, the art treasures of the world,
Were by angry hammers tortured and the stone in markets sold.”
[Continued in Part 2]
Find my poems and published poetry volumes at www.eton-langford.com
Categories:
reprimanding, conflict, destiny, history, philosophy,
Form:
Rhyme
You know
There are times when I wonder
There are more times I blunder
In this grand stage, with tomorrow
I turn yesterdays page
And write another passage in my life
Another twisted attempt at sanity
Another stab at freedom
One more try at understanding
Instead of reprimanding
Plain and simple
Pure and true
Everyday is getting hard to see through
Everyday is just what it is, another day
Someone dies by another’s hand
Someone’s raped, mutilated, mugged, murdered
Ripped off, pissed on, pissed off
Sliced, diced, cut, quartered, canned and killed
Did I miss anything ?
Probably more than I care to know
Isn’t anyone bored with death yet
It’s been done, many times over
Or are we shooting for overkill
Who knows
I know that nobody cares, as long as it doesn’t affect them
How can you ignore this chaos
How can you not see this madness before you
Do you feel helpless ?
Are you helpless ?
Hopeful, hopeless, pathetic or a predator
A doer or a done over, a loser or a lifer
Look at your story and see if you want it to be told
I fear for the world and the judgment that awaits all of us
Eric (and sometimes not)
Categories:
reprimanding, life, people, sad
Form:
Free verse
Life, I think, is a bit of a paradox.
Floating through this desolate void devoid of context and explanation, (some might suggest value as well, I suppose);
I conclude these idiosyncratic murmurings of bothersome almost-people
Reprimanding my almost-conscience are just a whit of an empty, emaciated white whale of a civilization proclaiming pseudo-camaraderie and disappointing undertakings as suitable solutions for contentedly concluding one’s existence.
Though some perceive fraudulence efficiently, soaring quilled shafts of deceit unavoidably puncture intimate electing properties of our conscious.
No barricade can shield humanity from himself.
With living comes a constant quality of inconsistency,
despite the state of existence itself being incredibly monophonic,
permeating my formless breath and solid heart like no other experience.
Well… there is another event I imagine could deliver a pure, unadulterated sensation of intoxicating eternity.
I will wait for him, peacefully, until he arrives on his sweet, milky steed.
O dear old friend, deliver me swiftly unto my end, the true undying void.
Categories:
reprimanding, community, death, fantasy, fate,
Form:
Free verse
All of my texts go unanswered
My anxious calls slither to voicemail
I glance at the huge grandfather clock
My hands distractedly sorting the mail
I then check my trusted wristwatch
Its hands surely creeping beyond six
Reprimanding my heartbeats to calm
Some dinner I start to fix
The traffic check on the radio
Always has my undivided attention
Crashes, injuries and lane closures—
Your name to God I overtly mention
Those metal and rubber monsters
Frantically accelerating to get ahead
Send a prickly chill down my spine
As I mix the dough for bread
The walls around seem to move closer
The heat of the oven is stifling
If only you could call me once
Waiting and willing for the phone to ring
Written on:-2/23/2017
Categories:
reprimanding, anxiety, wife,
Form:
Rhyme
limbs have been twisted
on blackened tongues of enmity
twigs of tormentia broken
settling deep into the arbors
where sun refuses to shine
disinigrated now,
left a crumpled brown
walked upon and crushed
still somehow remembering what once was
green - with life
vibrant and free
floating in an oceanic breeze
tantalizing the tease
with beauty
so so tenderly
but time has a way of ruining,
reminding, reprimanding
fated days gone ill
broken in disrepair
despair
lost
lost
lost
gone
the songbird serenades
gone
Categories:
reprimanding, character,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
it hangs on your wall.
a faded black n white wooden photograph
probably taken some time back in the 80s.
It's one of those bootless thingies a new home owner would cast away, barely even noticing....
but you keep it.
like a lost wandering soul
ungodly hours find you on twos
mumbling ineligible things
to the ghost on the wall.
you stand there staring at the fading figure
it's reprimanding
at times it's happy. or annoyed.
but defiantly saying nothing.
it's in your house. on your wall.
it's vivid. alive. existent!
but only you can see it.
it's draining you,
slowly pulling you into it's ghostly world.
nobody else can see it
nobody can understand
'it's in your mind', they say,
'..or you're just delusional'.
mad!!
so you steer clear from mortals
keeping only to yourself
screaming, shouting, weeping
wishing they could understand
or that someone could find you.
but you're just one of a kind,
a ghost, just like the one on your wall.
Categories:
reprimanding, allegory, dark, depression, lonely,
Form:
Ekphrasis
choosing choices, chosen choice
choking chalking chortle voice
what is it about making a choice
that makes it so difficult
so reprimanding
so dangerous
so rewarding
what is it about making a choice
that applies to me
to you
to friends
to enemies
what is it about making a choice
that i hate
i love
i loath
i welcome
what is it about making a choice
that betters friendships
destroys friendships
creates friendships
interferes with friendships
what is it about making a choice
that creates pride
remove humility
inserts righteousness
makes us better
what is it about making a choice
Categories:
reprimanding, hope, introspection, life,
Form:
Free verse
October 16th, 2018, A Day At The Market With The Missus
Oft times zee spouse
lingers at select
supermarkets (Landis, Redners,
and/or Wegmans) without me
(figuratively) taking
all the time in the world
allowing this mister to reflect
alone (imaging tubby
a Norwegian bachelor farmer)
toying with this, that, or the
other writing project
sitting facing this
Macbook Pro laptop
within this one
bedroom apartment
comprising a quite
satisfactory unit, sans
Highland Manor Apartments
in the heart
of Schwenksville, Pennsylvania
reveling in solitude meditating, reading,
or trying valiantly to connect
continuity of words,
always pleasantly surprised
at finished product
(predominantly, asper
hashing out a poem)
with unpredictable captivating aspect
letting thoughts flow as they
may burst asunder
quickly keying
thee elusive threads,
albeit unconcerned
making a typing blunder
mainly focused on
barley distilling, coalescing,
and brewing alphabetic dunder,
when over zealousness
frequently setting wing
to literary creation, which
smug modesty, nonetheless
finds this scrivener to sing
(unwittingly premature
silent ejaculations)
joyus rapturous threnody,
whereat ring around the rosy
abruptly ends caused by
renegade doppelganger quisling
shell shocks yours
truly wear re: eyes
mimic pinball ping
experiencing short lived
(dramatic beaming effusion)
to plummet giving
little attention to proof read,
versus when I indiscriminately fling
an unpolished epistle of Matthew
riddled with glaring mistakes,
aye suddenly feel
embarrassed like a damned ding
bat reprimanding myself
and wrathful madness doth bring!
Categories:
reprimanding, 6th grade, 8th grade,
Form:
Light Verse
I comport myself with quiet pridefulness,
plus intellectual whimsy
aware that "FAKE" pretentiousness,
could be mistaken foreign egotistical vitae
furthering, feathering and figuratively
undermining jestingly,
poetically, and zealously
oozing, gushing, bubbling over
with faux snobbish suave re:
pulse sieve literary fatuous
haughtiness, and ludicrous narcissistic pre
ning all the while chuckling to me
self, and indifferent if
some anonymous browser
with Dutchman's breeches rolled up
upon cresting wave over Zyder Zee
disparages mine harmless
badinage, hence if ye
might qualify as such nitpicker,
who doth cavil - dee
crying wading thru
quagmire of verbiage,
a gentle reply to thee
might be more wise to turn energy
toward, how in many another country
the village people haint so free
spouting, sporting, and spoiling,
vis a vis intellectual sparring
(albeit innocent) black
barbs hatch chee
ving, and raising urgent
attention against he
(who whiz squelching
constitutional rights) re:
pressing, rescinding, reviling,
et cetera access toward key
underpinnings within these fifty
constituent United States
of America beckon alacrity
for obliging citizens across
all points of the compass to alee
v8 his indiscriminate flee
sing, sans bedrock nation could tee
tear on the brink of calamity,
which political plug quite inadequate
to staunch hemorrhaging, viz upending
many a sacred liberty,
and foo to you reprimanding
against any agree
gee us objection to pen about polly lee
ticks and/or religion!
Categories:
reprimanding, america, change, father, grave,
Form:
Free verse
When driving, if your speed is slow,
It’s always recommended
That to the right’s where you should go,
As road rules have intended.
The left lane is for passing or
If maybe you are speeding
And middle lanes may help ensure
That traffic flow’s succeeding.
Among most drivers, there exists
A tacit understanding
That anyone who thus resists
Will face some reprimanding.
So driving slowly on the left
May earn some bright lights flashing
Or someone on your tail whose heft
May threaten rear-end bashing.
It isn’t nice, but most of us
Would actually expect it
And those affected rarely fuss
But grudgingly accept it.
Yet lately some aggressive fools
Are tailing right lane drivers
In violation of the rules,
Which may leave no survivors.
The attitude I see today,
Which seems to be contagious,
Is “Me, me, me – don’t block my way!”
On roads, it is outrageous!
Categories:
reprimanding, car, people,
Form:
Rhyme