Best Resorted Poems
The Punching Bag - Through the Eyes of a Child
Each day the pattern was the same,
for all Dad’s shortcomings, my Mom got the blame.
WHACK! He cursed her for all his lost dreams…
WHACK! For missed opportunities, and failed schemes.
WHACK! Dad would hit his punching bag again,
to release all his pent-up frustration and pain.
When he felt inadequate and couldn’t cope with life,
he resorted to battering Mom, his “beloved” wife.
Of course, it was always her fault that things were bad;
so he made her suffer for all the troubles he had.
Inflicting her with insults, black-eyes, concussions, and cuts,
he claimed that she deserved them because she was like all sluts.
Craftily he played on her bully-enforced meekness,
getting down on his knees to beg for her forgiveness.
Moods swinging like a pendulum from night to day,
his promises were empty - he would never change his vile ways.
Predictably, he continued to torment her as he pleased,
degrading and abusing her…he never ceased.
He figured low self-esteem would prevent Mom from leaving;
and that she was a nobody, he really had her believing.
He was oh so convinced that needed audacity she lacked,
to ever think of opposing him, or of fighting him back.
Besides, with no family around, no job, and no dough,
he smugly concluded that she had no place else to go.
God knows she was weary of existing in this hell on earth;
and I was tired of seeing her endure all that unbearable hurt.
I had had enough of being terrified by that despicable monster,
who had ruined her and made our lives an utter disaster.
After convincing Mom that inevitably I’d suffer the same fate,
one night, we finally escaped to a shelter before it was too late.
*** Note: Thank God, nothing like this ever happened to me. But this piece is dedicated to those many women and their children who are victims of domestic violence.
08-31-2015
Contest: Through the Eyes of a Child
Sponsor:
Placement: 2nd
Categories:
resorted, abuse, hurt, violence,
Form:
Rhyme
In the beginning it was not so. Adam and Eve were perfect when God’s created them. Their interaction with each other reflected the perfection of the relationship between Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
They, like us were created with freedom of choice and could choose whether to follow God’s plan for their lives, or go their own way. When tempted by Satan, they chose to follow his suggestion and disobey God.
That act of disobedience fractured their relationship with God and with each other, and resulted in the brokenness that we experience today.
Adam and Eve hid from God after their disobedience. This is the first evidence of Brokenness. We hide or try to hide our wrongdoing because we are Broken.
Confronted with his disobedience, Adam and Eve resorted to blame. He blamed God, she blamed the serpent. Ever wondered why we are inclined to blame others for our mistakes. It’s because we are Broken.
Many children are abandoned by one or sometimes both parents, who themselves were abandoned by one or both of their parents. The result is brokenness.
Divorce, substance abuse, prostitution, sexual promiscuity, lesbianism, homosexuality, bisexuality, low self-esteem, pleasure-seeking, lying, cheating, stealing, killing, and a myriad other dysfunctions are symptoms of humanity’s Brokenness.
Where do we find help for our Brokenness? It begins with a choice. We know from experience that to keep our cars running well we need to follow the instructions in the Owner’s Manual.
Follow the instructions and your car runs well and you get to enjoy it for a long time. Ignore the instructions and your car will finally break down and leave you stranded. The choice is yours.
After this Brokenness invaded God’s plans for a perfect life for his creatures, he devised a plan to combat our Brokenness and finally effect humanity’s healing and restoration.
Like cars, we have a Maker and he has provided us with an Owner’s Manual, called the Bible. Read it and become familiar with God’s plan for our healing and restoration.
By following his instructions, we can mitigate the effects of our Brokenness. When we ignore his instructions, we experience break down in one or many areas of life. The choice is ours. Healing and Restoration or Brokenness.
Categories:
resorted, abuse, addiction, break up,
Form:
Free verse
A dysfunctional child covered in mud
If her mamma didn't clean her do you think a stranger would?
dirty looks and filthy nails
gossips, rumours and funny tales
labels that stick and wont wash off
she is a tree with a damaged root
she grows no flowers
she grows no fruit
Broken trees can’t grow wings
This little girl resorted to other things
2004
Categories:
resorted, angst, childhood, daughter, family,
Form:
Bio
She was smart, beautiful and a perfect host
Yet these god given attributes don't explain how she became adored
By most,
With no hate mail in the post.
No, we have to look elsewhere for the reason,
That no matter what the season,
She could appeal to our reason.
Was it the way she talked,
Maybe it was the way she walked,
Or the way she looked at you when she smiled.
No, that was not the reason she was such a hit,
Because like us all she could still throw a fit
And upset a little bit
Could it have been how she treated everyone the same,
Or that she did not use voice or words to shame,
No, these are not reason enough to explain her fame.
To be fair, the reason only becomes clear,
When you have had a hug from her
One that sets your emotions astir
And gives your heart cause to stutter.
Even while knowing anything more is reserved for another.
Many is the time I have seen a hug go to the undeserving,
With genuine feeling,
When the rest of us would have resorted to behaviour less
Appealing.
To think that most of us have yet to grasp the fact,
That a simple hug freely given can change the way others act
And give us all a reason,
To look forward to another season.
Categories:
resorted, beautiful, beauty, care, character,
Form:
Romanticism
Seriously?
You drive a Benz with chrome plated wheels,
then from the government you continue to steal,
I wonder if you’ll ever really know how it feels,
to be so hungry and not get approved for food assistance-
Seriously? Luxury living with no room for intolerable resistance.
Seriously?
You beg for forgiveness when you end a life with abortion,
when the man you thought loved you shows extortion-
There are couples out there who would adopt an orphan,
with a loving man becoming a father with his wife,
Seriously? How could you even comprehend ending a life?
Seriously?
You’re perfectly healthy on the couch with work capability,
yet you continue to collect unwarranted disability-
You claim all you deserve is secure financial stability,
when the veterans of war get denied such extravagance-
Seriously? You claim intelligence but suffer from arrogance.
Seriously?
Remember finishing your plate before leaving the table?
Well, be grateful you have food, so many are unable.
People are starving in streets with finances unstable,
yet you waste food like it’s always to be expected-
Seriously? On the streets poverty stricken families are rejected.
Seriously?
You build a second gym in the grade school you attended,
making the poor school in Detroit feel abandoned and offended-
Government assistance for education should be recommended,
teachers getting paid nothing for furthering education-
Seriously? These needy children suffer in silent desperation.
But…seriously…
What has this nonsensical world resorted to?
Making promises and not following through.
February 2, 2017
Categories:
resorted, abortion, abuse, corruption, life,
Form:
Rhyme
EVERY DAY I CRY
EVERY NIGHT I PRAY
FOR THE STRENGTH I NEED
TO SURVIVE ANOTHER DAY
MY DREAMS ARE HAUNTED
BY MY MEMORIES OF YOU
EVEN IF I COULD
THESE MEMORIES I'D NEVER UNDO
IN MY DREAMS
I BEG AND I PLEAD
LEFT THERE CRIPPLED
DOWN ON MY KNEES
WITH A VACANT EXPRESSION
IN MY EYES YOU STARE
INTO MY SOUL
MY NOW ABYSS FULL OF DISPAIR
I'VE WONDERED AND SEARCHED AND
PONDERED THE REASONS
CONFIDED IN STRANGERS
EVEN FOUND RELIGION WHILE FACING MY DEMONS
I'VE RESORTED TO INSOMNIA
DAY AFTER DAY FEELING NUMB
TO THE POWER OF MY ADDICTION
I WILLINGLY SUCCUMB
JUST TO HEAR YOU SAY YOU LOVE ME
I'D ENDURE TORTURE AND PAIN
FOR THE RUSH OF FEELING YOUR EMBRACE
IS LIKE HEROIN IN MY VEINS
THAT'S ALL I CRAVE
THOSE SWEET WORDS LAID UPON MY EARS
BUT YOUR DEFEANENING SILENCE
BRINGS ME TO TEARS
LIKE SILENT THUNDER
RIPPING ME APART
WITH YOUR UNSPOKEN WORDS
YOU'VE SHATTERED MY HEART
Categories:
resorted, lost love, day, me,
Form:
Rhyme
One light, I was out panting the clown red when I met a Sadie from Francis who I found to be quiet subtractive. It was apparel she thought I was distracted two because she ted, “Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir?” To witch I supplied "You can let your coucher I due.”
Sew, we dove to a rotel and wented a womb and that’s where it all rent wong. I dimply could NOT maintain my direction! I even deported to taking two extra-length Niagras butt no lice! My ergo was scattered to say the piece, although she was quiet patent with me at second, basking, “Comment allez-vous, mon ami?” I dancered, "Not very bien, mon cherry, déjà vu?"
Swell cokes, let me sell ya, she was so beset and vivid it took a few momentums for her to apply. FINALITY she basked (In broken England) “Deja who? Who is Déjà and what the PLUCK has Vu got to do with the price of a flea on a panda in Angina?”
To take a short story long, she got it up, put her clothes back off and resorted, “Au revoir, tu salopard!”
"Salopardon madamit? Did you dust ball me a dastard?" She had the VERVE to say: ”If the necker shrinks, then bare it, and your pepper sure did slink and you better relieve THAT, you old pool!”
Whelp, I won’t go into any moor of the sorted retails here. Needles to hay, I will sever foreskin that incidental and will always dismember that humilitating tight
I depose one gives and sperms…
Translations:
Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir? – Do you want to sleep with me tonight?
Comment allez-vous, mon ami? – How are you doing my friend?
Tres bein, et vous? - Very good, and you?
Mon cher - My dear
Au revior, tu salopard – Goodbye, you bastard
Categories:
resorted, funny,
Form:
Prose
A xerox copy of a species has become more
prevalent in two-thousand seventeen-
There are different processes used to
produce a genetically identical biological entity.
Cloning sheep is the most common form of
duplicating genes, cells and tissues-
but there is so much more to this procedure,
so much unknown science and unethical issues.
Natural and artificial cloning are both types
of doubling organisms, mammals and plants,
and so many people are against these procedures,
they riot and protest; they rave and they rant.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A book was written in between the rough
times of World War one and World War two-
“A Brave New World” was a controversial
glimpse in to the future, but tell me, was it
really true?
There was an institution playing an essential
role in the artificial reproduction,
and social conditioning of the world's population
based on sex and soma consumption.
Out of control with unprotected sex and
brainwashing situations,
they tampered with the natural way of life,
tested the actual meaning of creation.
Humans were being created and conditioned
according to the system of this society,
and a man named John known as
“The Savage” believed in morals with propriety.
He was against the orders of this new
way of life that was dramatically created,
and made it well known that this
human cloning was abhorred and hated.
After a riot, John resorted to
fighting against them with violence,
then was tormented and brainwashed
and lived moments of defiance.
He took soma and ended up having
wild sex as he was always against,
and to him this way of life was
despicable and didn’t make sense.
In the end, he took his life
repulsed by what he had done,
he had turned into a monster,
one he promised he wouldn’t become.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Human cloning is tampering with
the true meaning of natural creation,
and I hope in the future it never
becomes a common situation.
April 24, 2017
Categories:
resorted, books, life,
Form:
Rhyme
God Made Me A Smooth Thorn,
Poking The Eyes Of My Neighbors,
Oh They Despise Me; So They Envy My Black,
See I'm Beautiful Yet Filled With Simplicity,
I Walk Earth Like Any Other Living Creature,
Honestly I Think Above And Beyond Stature,
Cause I am A Confederate Of Good Nature-
I Breathe, Eat, Sleep- How Can I Not Deserve The Same Right?
As The White Man That Lives Across The Street-
My Color Might Be Different- Black
But My Black Is Worth Breathing,
And As Far As Worthiness Is Concerned, My Black Is Priceless.
I am A Simply Complex Beauty,
Thus Humanity Justifies- Thence A White Life;
Hath No Greater Value Then Mines-
So Why Am I Being Whipped?
Why Am I Made To Weep?
As My Father's And Mothers Stand Witnesses,
Why Am I Ill-treated?
Yes Mr. White, So What's Your Worth, If I May Ask?
Cause As Far As Worthiness Goes My Black Is Priceless;
See You Have Been Dragging Me;
Since I Was A Grandchild;
And Now That I am A Grandfather-
You Still Proceed To Humiliate Me,
I am Counting My Scars; Sparks Of Survival;
Yet You Fuel My Undying Heat;
Can't You See I'm Struggling To Contain, The Fires Inside,
But How Will I Still Hold It In;
When You Killed My Brother?
Yes He Was Black; Oh, Thus You Despise-
But He Was Also Advocate Of Humanity,
That Bit You Failed To See,
So How Can You Judge Me-
When I Start Acting Like A Monkey?
For You Think You're The Lion,
Won't I Retaliate The Only Possible Way That I Know-
Indeed My Color Is Different-
And I, As The Wounded Tiger; I Cry Silent,
But As Far As Worthiness Goes;
My Black Is Priceless.
There Still Are Reasons- I Contemplate About,
Why Do You Choose This Route?
To Treat Me Lesser Then You Treat Your Pet Dog-
You Incarcerated My Whole Generation,
Yet You Can't Tolerate The Few That Survived Your Obliteration,
I Realized You Can't Condone My Breathing,
As If You Are Violated By My Living-
Isn't That Your Reason To Why You Eliminate,
Everything That's My Strength And Power;
He Who Kills Family Killed Humanity;
See You Can't Stand My Beauty,
It Hurts You, It Taunts You, It Shows You Your Ugliness,
So You Resorted To Oppression-
Which I Believe Is Because; I am Black And Unfathomable;
So Mr. White, What's Your Worth, If I May Ask?
Cause As Far As Worthiness Concerned My Black Is Priceless.
Categories:
resorted, abuse, allegory, america, anger,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
In an attempt to establish an uncertain linkage between 2 parables,
Ivo Torena resorted to impress his colleagues all night long; hence,
awkward as a cow on a crutch, he was cowed into pilfering bananas,
and when he was caught red-handed by the deputy, his eyes showed
no response even though his arteries were friendly. Thus, a series of
tribulations took place inside his troubled mind for outlandish
reasons, and his whereabouts were commended by one of the top
enemies of the state: The twerp from Antwerp. On a serious note,
a cabal of notorious hotshots devised an agenda to unnerve Ivo
until the cow comes home. Still and all, Torena has a truly unique
composure, unlike the belligerent Belgian, and his mannerisms
can't be reciprocated with ease. Furthermore, the notoriety with
which he prattled and sprattled was momentous! His uneventful
birth can't hold a candle to any cinematographic invention although
his water bottle company is a candle in the wind and the pieces
begin to assemble duly without second thoughts whatsoever.
Categories:
resorted, assonance, aubade, beauty, confidence,
Form:
Verse
Just
laying
in his arms
always heals me
when I realize his touch gives me rest.
His touch is so refreshing that I am
resorted to
a wilting
happy
mess!
Categories:
resorted, love, passion,
Form:
Tetractys
In a distant land many miles away
Lived a hermit who dilly dallied all through the day
When it came time for slumber
He resorted to counting numbers
Of young lasses showing asses part of the beach ballet
© Jack Ellison 2015
Categories:
resorted, fun,
Form:
Limerick
Investors don’t have to be paid
if a flop of a Broadway musical is made.
That was the thought of producer Max Bialystok.
His philosophy was obviously a big crock.
Max resorted to fund raising activities that were shady.
He conned and cheated many an old lady.
He and accountant Leo Bloom made a team.
To make money producing a failure was their dream.
“Springtime for Hitler” was a play they would choose.
They were so certain this production would lose.
To their shocking surprise, the musical was a success.
Can you imagine the amount of resulting distress?
Does this sound like a movie you would like to see?
Go out today and rent the DVD.
Based on the 1968 film “The Producers”
Categories:
resorted, dedication, funny, tribute,
Form:
Rhyme
Telling "White Lies"
My mother got born November
thirteenth, nineteen hundred thirty five
within poverty stricken household
of Canarsie, Brooklyn, the youngest
(most mollycoddled) of four siblings,
experienced grinding poverty, no
matter maternal grandfather (Moishe
Kuritsky), a tailor he lacked drive
to support his family two parents +
remainder offspring, he helped sire
lacked positive role models, none the
less gumption taught her to strive
at tender age livid with rage to escape
caricature living poor, thus sought
employment when/wherever sheik hood
if necessary fibbed to survive
plus rash of healthy nurturing, and
absolute zero constraints, perhaps five
or thereabout years old attested
much later, suspected her papa did jive
with unspeakable improper behavior
(nobody dare discuss taboo issues),
yet intuition awoke within immoral
conclusion Harriet Kuritsky did arrive,
and perhaps resorted to stretching
the truth (fibbing a "white lie") the only
recourse available plied sweet innocence
knowing little or nothing about birds
feathering their nest, nor little about
buzzfeeding activity in beehive
naivete flirtatious coyness advantage worked,
I bet young thang did connive
and probably never did contemplate,
deliberate, generate and wrongdoing,
where mother of necessity spurred
angelic demureness strategy to contrive
securing bare necessities, hence fast
forward, when unsolicited advice given
to this sole son, or either sibling, (an older
& younger sister) tactics upbringing did deprive
ma mum of positive role models, hence
only blueprint to acquire essential needs
serendipitous series of unfortunate events
before Lemony Snicket did derive
school of hard knocks, (I do believe
formerly called Abraham Lincoln High)
rather than impugn, judge, revile, et cetera
kernels/nuggets of wisdom memory did revive
within my mind for rhyme, nor reason
blunt honesty, not always best policy
despite ten commandments
to husbands with many a wive.
Categories:
resorted, abuse, age, america, child
Form:
Ballad
The sun rose slowly over the horizon and fell,
We are the giant of Africa,
Relying on the neighboring and international dwarfs for economic and socio-political development,
A situation for the angels to weep over.
Corruption, marginalization, favoritism, nepotism and insecurity hung like wet blankets,
Families are crying, children are dying,
The government remained silent as the sheeted dead,
A total impression sickeningly pathetic.
All that's beautiful drifted away like the waters running downhill,
No one is talking about poverty eradication and youth empowerment,
The valorous activists that once voiced out where assassinated,
The gutty and lettered are currently on the run.
Anxiety and uncertainty hung like a dark impenetrable cloud,
The only people feeding fine are those who can lie and steal,
Religious groups, correctional agencies and the leaders have lost their worth.
We are doomed.
All our thoughts, hope and future are running into tears like sunshine into rain.
Our lovely mothers are now competing with whores on the streets,
Just to make money to support our visionary, jobless and hopeless fathers,
The youths have resorted to crimes for survival,
Our citizenship has turned to a curse in broad daylight.
Choked by a rising paroxysm of rage,
We advocate for a revolution.
Categories:
resorted, africa, poverty,
Form:
Epic