Best Resents Poems
...And of course who can forget all the
black-on-black we see every day?
More people are killed by such violence
then cops could ever dare take away.
Take all the dead from the rioting
and, depressingly, you will all find
it matches a weekend’s murder count
in Chicago..let that sit in your mind.
Are all their deaths somehow less tragic
because their killers weren’t pale of flesh?
I keep waiting for folks to address this,
but at this point I won’t hold my breath.
Speak of this and all the people bray
that your evil and ‘victim-blaming,’
then they proclaim that ‘Black Lives Matter,’
but ignore their culture isn’t working.
The worst of it, we should acknowledge,
is the two hundred fifty black lives
that are taken from us every day
by the cuts of abortionist knives.
To think of all those young lives cut short
is horrific and so frightening,
think of a medium-sized company
every day up and disappearing.
But if this fact is ever brought up,
these same protestors act all appalled,
they think this means that you ‘hate women,’
that those children have no rights at all!
The fact that half of those kids are girls
never seems to enter into their heads.
They like to say ‘Black Lives Matter,’
but then make their very children dead.
Now the great unifying factor
that binds up all the hypocrisy
is that they only seem to promote
dark-skinned people if they are lefties.
They do not talk of excessive force
when pale people are shot down by cops,
but if it happens in blue cities
then they demand the whole country stop!
They care not for a dark-skinned person
who built up a good life through hard work,
nor the future children of these towns,
nor good people tired on the jerks.
In fact the left resents these people,
since you can’t control virtuous folk,
the only Black Lives that matter to them
are the ones who bring Democrats votes.
THE HAUNTED HOUSE
The dark shadows flicker, hapless waves crash —
against the abyss a lover’s hopes dash.
Latter years, melancholic, dressed in black,
arrival of the vampire’s curse - I’m back.
A Victorian castle with misdeeds.
I sweep the grounds. Small feet kick away weeds.
An imposing door knocker — my heart beats
stealing my breath...I faint as the door cheats,
opening by itself — wispy fingers,
like frost outside the house, the chill lingers.
Awaking to old decrepit beauty —
timbre of a music box on duty.
I pry at doors, webbed windows — none will jar.
I’m locked in with whispers and dust...no stars.
A heavy painting with traversing eyes
further freezes my blood — he resents goodbyes.
I know this, but why? Why?! Wind from the cliff —
I’m screaming...falling. Those ghostly fangs stiff.
Reminded, I trek up the long staircase.
It’s intrical railing like woven lace.
Hypnotic melody — the lover’s bait.
Face of gloom — at the precipice, he waits.
He sinks his lusty teeth into my neck,
throws me down frightful stairs. I’m at his beck
and call — his revenge for forsaken love.
Each night we kiss at the cliff and he shoves.
This castle of curses and vengeful ghosts.
Ever dusk to dawn, it’s nightmare I host.
8/15/2018
2nd place/multiple placements
Sponsor - Dear Heart
Contest - The Haunted House
Tribute to t.v. show Dark Shadows
my black ink flows into oceans of fear-
for I have been misunderstood by her,
as days of time run out of grains of soft sand
and shadows pierce shores of midnight mist
(I panic with tears thinking the worst of me).
maternal intuition has brought woe,
the worst of me resents her fear out of spite.
the bottom of a rock broke on my soul
and grey ash fell onto my bare feet;
you know, the ones she counted when I was born-
“a precious little girl was she at birth”,
then youth told tales of icy tears I wept,
a daughter wrapped in burlap craving silk.
I feel like a dull and poor dinner knife
does after meals of guilt with sides of shame-
worn out and flattened from bread breaking,
with she who made it for my family.
so now I tarry toward her smokey eyes,
and she looks at me like I’m a small babe,
and never sees the beauty worn in and out;
at times her smile shows hope and faith in me,
at times she sees the worst...something I am not.
August 7, 2019
Something I Am Not Contest
Craig Cornish
When in her best behavior:
she smiles so sweetly
and she loves so freely;
she speaks so softly
and she adores so dearly.
But if you are not on your guard:
she will smile sweetly still
as she drives a knife deep into your heart;
she will love you, yes she will,
while bleeding dry your credit card until you hurt;
she will speak ever so softly,
divesting you of your money till you can't take it anymore;
she will adore you dearly
till she finds a new man, then drops you to settle some score.
She is tough, yet crumbles so easily,
she loves but hates with uncontrollable fury.
She sends so many conflicting signals:
like some sort of a weirdo,
she says no when she means yes, and yes when she means no;
she always demands equality
yet expects preferential treatment based on her femininity;
she expects a man to open the door
but once inside the feminist begins to take over the floor;
she can manage on her own, says woman,
yet resents it when you don't give up your seat, you ain't a gentleman;
she wants a man to hold her when crossing the pavement
but try it in the office and the poor guy gets booked for harassment.
What a woman really wants is equality...in her favor !!!
Angel has fallen from the top of the tree
Broken baubles lay strewn by the door
Christmas chaos caused by the cat
Damaged branches and lights on the floor!
Eager hands clear up the mess
For today we should rejoice
Glorious news that baby Jesus was born In Bethlehem
His birth is the reason we celebrate on Christmas Day.
Icicles may hang on trees like icy fingers
Jack frost will try to nip our nose and toes
Keep well wrapped up and try to stay warm.
Lots of lovely food adorns our festive table
Many hungry tummies are soon to be filled
No, I can't possibly eat another mouthful ….
Overeaten and now we all want to fall asleep!
Presents are unwrapped; hear the whoops of delight
Queen’s speech is on the television at 3 o’clock prompt
Repeats of films we love to see every year –
Sound of Music and a James Bond film are always on!
Time to go outside and enjoy the fresh air
Underfoot the snow is crisp and deep
Verdant gardens are dusted with sparkling snow
Winter is a wonderful time of year.
Xenops is a bird we won’t see on our winter walk
You may be lucky to see a robin redbreast
Zigzagging through the swirling snowflakes.
Contest form A
Sponsored by Broken Wings
01~22~16
I guess this had to be said
The root causes for the way
I am kept awake at night
Summer heat no sleep
My only companions are
Past events and the opinions
My soul resents.
I guess it had to be felt
Every reflection and failure
To society, my appearance must
Be on point and tailored
To meet another’s expectations
My soul craves approval like
Success and celebrations emotional
Rollercoasters to ride on certain occasions
As a man fear becomes unacceptable you must
Be the brave one.
I guess this had to be heard Oh, sorry say that again?
I can’t hear you. My soul then becomes numb misunderstood
Makes you feel dumb because you must be the only one when
The second or third comments speak up son. Damn it another crack collateral
fracture to move forward must move faster to escape the disaster
in my life oh well, time to backtrack.
On the bicycle of this thing called my life, I fell off way too many times the bumps and bumps and bruises become a badge of honor look how bright they shine. So how do I heal as I deal with how the pain festers when the scabs of old wounds peel. I heard my brother say toughen up like the Navy Seals. For him, my heart is cold like steel stories I retold myself based on events half real.
I guess this had to be seen the rumors about me are not true I am not really mean
Although I do get mad and half the time I don’t know the words to describe how I feel. Your insults don’t hurt me I devour them like three-course meals. Lets talk about what’s really on this brain how lies were sold and how this soul growing up in the modern education system studied long-term and was short-changed but I guess the was all part of the plot to teach base on rigged curriculums and whether I learned or not teachers still got paid at the end the day.
I guess this had to be sensed since every human I ever crossed paths with subconsciously convinced that parts of my soul do not fit into the mainstream
No one left to pick up the pieces so forget about seeing the bigger picture when the vision is blurry.
Yes I see you man of the world:
Flashy on cue in myriad twirls.
Yes I know when to step aside:
Succinct you send your swirl of pride.
Yes I know now that tragic touch:
Watch time somehow scoop away much.
Yes I know why all magic fades:
The weary sighs that sorrow trades.
Yes I know then that fear resents:
The crippling trends in cheer's intent.
Yes, I must say that common sense
Soon fades away to true pretense.
Leon Enriquez
16 December 2014
Singapore
Where Hell flirts with heaven,
Where Death envy’s life,
There I sour through the
sound silence of the night.
Where darkness resents light.
Where sin is beaten down by grace
It must be a daunting sight,
to be confronted by my face
Where demons battle angels.
Where good turns to evil.
flinch fingers rubbed the candles,
lighting them up in a upheaval
Where rainbows dances with the skis,
Where money poisoned men’s souls,
How could you be the tangible lies?
For those told by watering holes.
Where hearts are turned to stone.
Where earthly bodies fade away to a dust.
My mighty king sat high on his throne,
looking at the lands through the eyes of lust.
Where music tells everyone's story
Where pain is the antidote to hopelessness
How do I give all mighty God glory?
Is all that I do is marinate in brokenness.
voices skating secrets across the rim of a wine glass,
breath advocating a glance. Plucking nerves like a guitar string
wind revealing the liars tongue,
never failing to encapsulate
the quiet tuck, serenades of existence
pouring solitude down a rusty rainspout
to particular seasons that shadow
a present future;
as corrupted stain glass contributes
a haunted soldered image.
We never fully realize the petals won’t wilt,
gardens remain constant
hope becoming a postal card;
parchments sealed with the adieu
real like hairline cracked sidewalks
sowed by constant sorrow.
Distribute me from your straight jacket of resents,
sanction me to feel the softness of
the salt water breeze;
a chance meeting with eyes unable to ascend
knowing that the plural form of time is indigo
you are violet.
STEP -CHILD
Small boat,
Step-child of the sea,
Feels its way cautiously,
Knows its role:
Is merely tolerated.
Uwanted offspring
Feels the roll of the waves;
Unwelcome intruder
Momentarily gathers her strength
In a rare flat calm,
To withstand the buffets:
Splash of salt shaken
Into the eyes of the bow,
Shudders at comber-crash into side,
Wave-driver wind chops the deck
Rocking and pitching entirely
At the mercy of the sea.
The sea holds the boat’s
Life in its hands,
Resents the volume she displaces,
Always ready to say goodbye
With one final wave.
A relief to make land -
Welcome solidity,
Hold cap, raise collar, turn inland.
************LONGING for LOVE************
I've heard those words it's deafening the agony where my heart resents
to leave you
Your thought so deep I seek and yet by loving you without regret
I care for you
I dreamed of you the night before the best I've seen right after four
I've found you
Sometimes we say some words that hurts feeling the pain it never ends
I still need you
How can i Prove my love so pure where I'd endured
From all the things you've said to me but I'd ignored
Another day another time another place I'm wishing for a kiss
It's time to hug and let you feel my warm embrace
I love you,
Despite the Pain I still pretend not in existence
There's no more reasons or explaining why tears
just keeps on falling.........You're crying
I promise
I'll give you anything love and understanding
I never loved someone like this where I've put it all
And I felt something it's longing
Longing for LOVE ......... copyright MCagaoan-2015
Isabelle Falque-Pierrotin
will never balk at an a priori win
has established new rules
resents being told they are for the obedience of fools.
Inaki Urdangerin
can we be sure of the danger he's in?
his wife the Princess
ensonced in a typical Spanish taxation mess.
Mississipi roast
should be apportioned on neat squares of french toast
thus preserving the culture
while eschewing the habits of the predatory Northern vulture.
Dedicated for my true friend, Pokey the puppy
I have a friend tempered in anxiousness of speed indeed-
He runs, jumps, and adjusts to my manner uncannily-
A good friend is he who waits, in time and fate, for me in kind patience-
His intent, at times, as I see and unbeknownst to him, is non other than to be fed-
I watch him and he I through our anthropomorphic conscientious percipience-
I ask myself, as always I always do, if he has slight of sentience in self-
My friends form of expression queerly questions my countenance in sensibility-
Which may or may not have some truth, for his truth is held in stealth-
I have over the years attempted to lessen him in art of literature-
Although at times he seems to acknowledge this by peeing on our praised favorites-
By all means I consider him more an emotional compartan compared to my kind-
He never regrets or resents me for unfairly failing notice to my dear friend-
Maybe he ponders events by incertitude, though expressions neither deny or confirm-
Though his actions always denotes incentive aspects of verbs, he chooses not to read
I infer a conclusion that we only differ in level of magnitude of consciousness-
For I know that he knows that I know he has some level of meta-cognition
By Mark Miller, An inner examination into our art of artificial selection.
A two-faced snake my self-love paralyzed,
Whose toxic fangs impurely freeze my will.
The one all past events remakes despised,
The other future wants will ne'er fulfill;
Regret resents my past to make me languish,
While doubt my future wrecks and makes unsure.
I should prevent my own apparent anguish,
Yet doubt/regret combined proves quite the lure.
This mix, despair, invents a mess of tricks,
My famine's foison in its blest appeal;
Defanged and pure, this wretched drug addicts,
How like a potion does its poison feel!
Addicted to self-loathing's desperate bliss,
With blithe despair I tempt this serpent's kiss.
Peace--
Don't believe that the calm is sound?
A calm is noisy. a calm is round,
the calm is quiet beyond belief.
A calm is soft, however sweet.
I saw the mutual happiness of my generation destroyed,
How I mourned contentment.
Never forget the reciprocal and common contentment.
All along the enemy resents this
Pay attention to the appeasement,
the appeasement is the most zany social control of all.
An appeasement is wacky. an appeasement is humorous all tho,
An appeasement is buffoonish, however.
Are you upset by how dreamy it is?
Does it tear you apart to see the calm so hush?
3/21/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.2019©