Best Rethought Poems
I figured I would go right up to heaven
So I was ready to die, wishing for it actually.
Expecting to see my relatives, and my favorite dogs
I closed my eyes begging for God to take me
But He decided to keep me here
Jesus came to me in a dream and His will was clear
I had work yet to do
And was not going to find relief
What I needed was a different doctor
I was disappointed, but he is God
And I am merely his servant,
And a sinner to boot
He did not talk about any of my indiscretions
But I felt them none-the-less
They actually ran around in my mind as He spoke
I decided to get better, do better, be better
So maybe when He was ready, I would be able
to go to heaven
The way I was going had to be revisited,
Rethought, and reevaluated. He did that for me.
And I found a new doctor who kept me alive.
Not as alive as going home,
But alive enough for me to change my sinning ways.
So thank you O’Lord.
No Maria -
when a Bernstein motif lingers.
No rosary beads -
they'll simply slip
through bourbon-stained fingers.
God carved the seven continents,
with skillful guise,
and Puccini cries.
Adam's rib was imminent
when his chest burst splinters
into a scorned dodger's eyes.
No Turandot tonight, please -
Father willed him this disease;
a cancerous curse
Ben's learned to despise.
No Rodgers -
when Oscar Hammerstein is dead.
No hammered halos -
they'll merely desecrate
the madman’s head.
Ben abandoned rued religion,
with toxic breath -
as Mimi wept.
Noah made a revision,
as the pairs filed two by two,
and into his mouth they crept.
No La Boheme, does he dote -
Mother’s cocktail glass
cuts his throat.
A souvenir,
from his childhood,
he’s kept.
No Sondheim -
when one loathes another's company.
No steel wool ragcloths -
to dry the bloodshot eyes of thee.
He minded the duet’s jargon
endorsing the macabre,
and Calaf sobbed.
Judas rethought the bargain,
knowing the silver pieces
wouldn’t save the soul he robbed.
A lost weekend sates Ben's day -
two severed hands on his chest,
he’ll lay; never feeling
a heart
that once throbbed.
A fluffy orange tabby cat visited my humble abode today
She wore absurd red knickers, and hat tilted a most genial way.
She gave a knock quite timidly, kindly invited herself in.
The reflection from her golden coat looked quite excellent in my den!
"I am a Wildlife Engineer, my order is simple, please sits.
I interview you and inspect your home, measure the level of IRIS each emits."
"Forgive my ignorance," I stammered, "But what is an IRIS, please?
And is it costly? For I am quite poor. Can I pour you a cup of some tea?"
"I'll take a full cup -- of milk, hold the tea," Her purr was both admirable and sweet.
"It stands for Inspiring Relationships with Indigenous Species. Basically appreciate all that you meet."
"I must admit, you have caught an offender who once was an irritable old kink.
But then I met my the love of my life, a beautiful vet that made me rethink!"
"I'm so happy," exclaimed Ms. Tabby, "I must meet your generous wife!"
"She caught a rare and costly illness. It took my heart when it took her life."
"I'm so sorry," she whispered quite softly, and climbed off her perch on the chair.
"Our review, sir, is successfully over. Your IRIS much greater than fair."
She must have seen the tears in my eyes as I stood up to show her on out.
Without an iota of ceremony or pride she suddenly rethought her route.
She walked roundabout at my ankles purring and rubbing on my feet
And when I sat down because the grief hit me hard, she jumped in my lap and fell asleep.
And ever since then we've been inseparable; my sweet fluffy ginger and me.
And I find that my heart awakes just a bit more with each creature I help that I see.
Written 7/4/2016
Three hours to write
I passed a street light with googles on,
A cheerful smile,
With a new hope,
Quite unknown about the world,
I kept on walking,
Unbothered about the cries around,
I kept on singing,
My feet swirled in their own flow,
Until I heard a voice quite low.
I was baffled, I froze,
Frozen to come to reality,
With marks on my forehead,
I rethought.
Thoughts of despair,
Shadows of sadness,
Clouds of empty bowls,
Cries of broken hands,
Woke me up to harsh real...
The world is not merely my tales of fairies,
The world is not merely my part of sadness,
The world needs peace,
The world needs space,
The world needs to rest,
To slow down its race..
A moment is enough for a helping hand,
A word of hope is more for a shattered end.
Wake up to the cries around,
Ask yourself what do you surround,
Level of emptiness is on its height,
Dont let hollowness to survive..
Random thought on ten minute clock as been deleted and rethought
from a more steady mind then th one of mine
I held all those years ago and for the waisted time
you may have spent on that ryme I really apologize
You see you dont really see the things your saying
not when your overmedicated your mind is gone and you are just
litigating between the voices in your head trying to have some peace
your just trying to clear your head get some rest and go to bed
I cant really relate to myself and who I was
and I cant remember the person that came before
down south fat boy who had a lot of fun it not the memmories
that miss me but the way i handled the activities how social I was
So next time if you happen to be in a crowd
and you see someone awkward and hear people talk about them in the crowd
take the time to speak to them and get past their wall
they are the best friends you will ever find so dont be so proud
A singing voice grown il
A blooming flower broken
A story kept in mind
A thought that went unspoken
It's not what they expected
It's not what they had dreamed
It's a stronger will to rethink
It's not what it had seemed
The cataract of thought
The water flowing thickly
The sight too dark to see through
The sight that lies there sickly
They knew it was the end
They did it anyway
They rethought all their choices
Their thoughts at last astray.
Argh resolution between
self and eldest
dear daughter more remote,
now then locating
a left handed monkey wrench,
cuz she feels this papa
did deliberate smote
her upside the head, knocking
Eden Liat stone cold
in an abysmal trench
thus, this dada doth fear a mill
stone shaped albatross
around thy neck aye will tote,
where rotting bird
doth emit fetid oppressive stench
gloomily decry death asper,
paternal progeny blighted love
epitaph finis fate wrote.
Methinks (nee knows) marital infidelity
steep dividend warrant wrought
chances greater finding needle in haystack
versus pointless thought
exercise regarding deus ex machina sought
forgiveness ex post facto, rethought,
yet miracle needed, viz
twill require against overwrought
progeny's psyche mor'n
solo requiem Te Deum never sung,
hence no guarantee
father as overthought
against embarkation entailing,
nor divine chorus baptizing can nought
assuage besotted dada's flesh, handwrought
hence fiery eternal damnation
no gunsmoke match e'en gunfought
by Jesse James, no penitence
bequeathed only dreadnought
visa vis admitting how affair
kneaded joyus kindling brought
philandering husband discovered
emotional refuge (against spousal
epithet strewn expletive language,
whence mistress besought
similar sexual satisfaction,
and subsequent fallout an afterthought.
retrospective reflection stills nothing
more serious then slap on the wrist
while engaged (~ January 2010) with
nothing sinful 'bout peccadillo tryst
understandable wife got sorely pissed
on the sly behaviour the missus
blindsided, hence over
looked and missed
and figurative wedge
cleft asunder nearly kissed
our marriage goodbye
extra-marital romp illicit,
though we nearly came to fist
sta cuffs, where salty crude name calling
in conjunction with execrable
derogatory cussing contribution complicit.
I can't think
Can't write
The irony of this poem
Is so great dispite
This black block
Weighing heavily on my mind.
So small yet so there
It's hard to define.
Uhh
Dang!!!
A History of Easter
From God's point of view
By Franklin Price
4/14/2017
Through Adam's fault at Eve's behest
The Serpent's fruit was bit
Mankind was condemned for life
From just one taste of it
I threw them from the garden
Where all was peace and good
Gave them the power to decide
There went the neighborhood
The two begat and theirs begat
And theirs begat some more
Every generation sinned
There was so much to explore
I looked down, cringed from the sight,
Rethought what I had done
It's time I saved a few of them
Think I'll send them down my son
To live his life as they should live
By example show the way
Die on the cross for all their sins
Rise from the grave on Easter day
Show his followers it's truly him
By the nail scars in his hands
Say go and preach what happened
Spread the word throughout the lands
Then he will rise up to me
To sit again upon my right
To wait and see what happens
To see who will take the bite
For those who believe I did it
That I sacrificed my son
Who believe he is your savior
That he is the only one
Who live your lives as he did his
Bring honor and be good
When you die we'll meet in heaven
That's how we save the neighborhood
Please excuse me for trying to pre-empt the censors that now live among us. I hope that my meaning is clear.
A Much Better One
The world's always been, as it is now,
a very se***l place. Organisms, in all their variety,
be f****n'. It's what assures reproduction.
So why do so many humans in the US of A
have an unhealthy fixation on such a natural function?
Even a natural body uncovered by clothing
sets these small minds all a twitter.
A br***t bared to nurture an infant has been seen by too many as somehow obscene.
I see this as proof of our utter disconnection from the real sources of life.
And I haven't even broached the subject of pleasure. What we each feel when we play with our c***s or our pu****s. Some of us from a very young age.
Why is so much of this covered under a blanket of titters and denial? If this is a natural function who will it, exactly, defile?
Why do we choose to constantly hover above the ground floor of reality?
If I'm denied the right to speak freely about the human condition who does it save? Who is being protected from whom?
Who, exactly, are those who are killing our global sisters and brothers without showing any real mercy? And how are they still being allowed to do this?
Why isn't this seen for the utter disconnection from the real sources of life that it is?
And... when I speak of f*****g... and women baring their br***ts to nurture their babies... why is my right to speech all of a sudden denied?
Perhaps it is time that we rethought our values. And became more connected. And became less supportive of those killing our sisters and brothers. And became more proactive in finding ways to making the world we were given into a much better one.
SPECIFIC MOMENTS
visual language
inspiration
in
retrospective
contemporary
dreams
of an alternative
future
a moment
of
reckoning
flooded
into
the eye
once moribund
now
captivated
encountering
the beauty
of refinement
to establish
affinities
between
the sensitive
& the
non-comprehensive
a turning point
a narrative
of the a romantic
constantly
renewed
in
the mind
a battleground
& clashing
of styles
a sign
of prescience
& genius
an indicator
of dialogue
in rethought
figuration
of
the
absurd
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Copyright © Brian Strand
As the mighty vicious nasty queen she had lots of cattitude.
In case you have never had a haughty cat, it is a prissy attitude.
She ruled the throne room in a voice that was distinctive and mean.
This is what her terrified subjects expected from this awful mean queen.
“Off with their heads!” she would yell, and she did not mean just mice.
She was abrupt and rude, and never rethought a decision more than twice.
She is horrible, awful, terrible, her ladies in waiting sometimes said.
Of course by the next morning, none of these cats retained their head.
BEAUTY & REFINEMENT
specific moments
forging
a
visual
language
inspiration
gone mainstream
in
retrospective
an
alternative
moment
of
reckoning
grown
moribund
a
prestigious
encounter
of
ideas
of beauty
& refinement
dramatically
spot-lit
in
truly mutual
comprehension
now disappear
from view
the clashing
styles
a sign
of the
prescience
& genius
in
dialogue
in
a spellbinding
astounding piece
off
rethought
figuration
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Copyright © Brian Strand
post-mortem note to mr. eliot
dearest thomas,
having lived long enough to see the
a-bomb drop, one wonders if you had
rethought your infamous ending
to “The Hollow Men,”
for most certainly
the world will not go with a
whimper,
we would be so lucky
to be rolled up in the fetus position
down deep in a shadowy corner,
to wither away “whimpering”
a slow & silent
personal demise,
each one of us---
however,
as things look,
the a-bomb will appear a walk in the
park, compared to what we have
coming---
the only justice is that it’s exactly
what we all
deserve.
I’LL ORDER THE BEE’S KNEES IF YOU PLEASE
“oh man, really, wake up please”
There are women who will drive you to your knees
You can see it in their eyes they think they can control the sun
S**t, If I summon a lady to do something, believe this baby, it gets done
Weakness to me is a disease
That’s why I stay off of my knees
There are some women who think they can control the weather
Shoot, I’d rather be happy and alone than unhappy being together
I will not pay a woman’s fees
That’s how I stay off of my knees
I am not a man a woman can rearrange
Take that tip from me, and keep the f***ing change
Look in their eyes and if they should tantalize and tease
I’m telling you men, don’t let them jack-hammer you to your knees
Okay wait, I’ve rethought my advice
Only get down on your knees if she’s hot enough and worth the price
© Phreepoetree ~free cee!~