Best Retributions Poems
How Can The Blinded Ever Bear To See
Above drudgery of this life
skies just begging to be seen
sun sends its warmth and its hello
to a humanity that oft wanders blind,
in its glories rotten to its core.
What shouts out in sorrows and in epic pains
none but retributions and loss of sweet hope
born by a mad walk down vanity's darkest path
complete with arrogance of want to be gods!
Above the Dragon that lies in wait
its sharp claws spoiled with dried bloods
its legions prowling for pleasures they need
world rewarding as such merit thus calls-
to misery, sacrifices fruits of death.
How can the blinded ever bear to see
morbid curse they adore and truly embrace
for mortal souls lounge in festering ponds
and moan in silence among valleys of midnight calls!
Above pits of cavernous despairs
man races into his welcoming abyss
his heart chained to selfish desires
mind a cage of ego driven exasperation,
poison arrows sent to pierce truth.
When will life's beauty, its powers happily reveal
to a mad herd claiming gems born of darkness
and at dawn's rise plead for their well hidden masks
so as no stray mirror dares shines most feared truth!
Robert J. Lindley, 7-17-2019
Prose, ( What Time And Truth May One Day Reveal )
Note:
Strange the waves that oft surge within dream seas
views of dark pits and direst moaning pleas
anguish born from travels on earth's darken paths
and saddest sorrows, fruits of divine wrath.
Categories:
retributions, art, culture, deep, humanity,
Form:
Prose Poetry
The journey began from birth
Since presented out into this life,
The brow beating experience,
Gloom besetting this vagabond soul
Are harrowing like the trail in front,
The ancestors had proclaim the future
To be bright, baring all retributions
Encounters in life,
They have spat out hard wine
Cracked the obliging kola nuts
And chewed the Alligator pepper,
Honey gel and Adun had featured in my throat
I have been boiled in salted perfume
And showered with herbal spring,
My soap is dark mushroom from an ancient iroko
Soaked in the pot of palm oil
I am spick and span;
The red-hot emerald from ember of coal
Have burnt into my chord
And swallowed into my belly,
I, lifted up with shaking hands
And showed to the rising sun,
The two hands clasped together
Taken up at wrists with shaky hands
And showed to the setting sun,
My legs brought together
Gripped at the ankles with shaking hands
And turned upside down;
Showing me the underside, inner in of the universe
The world is not trust worthy
Don’t take more than you can chew
Don’t give more than you can chew
You will grow and yet old
Prosper in life yet progressive
Go in peace,
You will not miss it
You will not die
You will not smell
You will not wander
You will not miss the entrance to your abode
You will not suffer reproach
Go with joy,
I then gathered together including
Sack of experience of life on my back
Loaded with my egg on top,
They weigh a tone but, not a weigh down.
I have journey to the end of the ocean,
Climbed to the tallest peak
Tour to where the wind originated,
Seen and met genera diverse in
Mythology, taste, setting in milieu
I have gone to the end of pleasure
And back; still I am on trip.
Categories:
retributions, mysteryjourney, life, universe,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
Lenient, odd reciprocity,
chains by chains, combustion of lies,
exposed vulnerability,
an abyss full of screaming cries.
A minute passed by, I commend,
a tenacious wheel in motion,
drifting across its star-crossed end,
trespasses without precaution.
Invocation in the making,
as acolytes conjured a spell,
a ferocious beast, summoning,
from the depths, the abysmal hell.
Without retributions, no doubts,
turbulence beneath the dark clouds,
lies under an encrypted code
so critical, node after node.
Brimstone with sulfur in the brink,
a massacre of massive gore,
hopelessness awaiting such link.
Thud! And then I opened that door
What's in this life, purely trivial,
full of betrayal and deception,
the clock's ticking sentimental,
down until Earth's final motion.
6.21.2015
Categories:
retributions, bullying, depression, destiny,
Form:
Elegy
I sat down... down... down...
falling into retributions of lost souls with
heavy hearts.
I stood up... up... up...
standing high enough to see the pain
crowding over the decades
of intermediate relations.
I fell down... down.. down...
deep enough to catch a glimpse
of the fires of the hell I created.
I flew up... up... up...
high in the sky with hawks
tearing apart their prey
like it was nothing.
I was your prey.
You were my hawk.
I was your hell.
You were my heaven.
I was your lost cause.
You were my purpose.
I walked toward... toward... toward...
the black door of goodbyes...
I ran away... away... away...
far enough to not see my past,
yet close enough to still feel the pain.
Written By: Laura Loo
Date Written: March 29, 2016
Categories:
retributions, sad,
Form:
Verse
Here we are huddling together,
not yet our collective nightmare
nor our communal wetdream.
At our best,
struggling compassionately together
in-between future and past
polyculturally climaxing health
and monoculturing deep valleys
of dark pathology
At our worst,
competing against each other
unscientifically inorganic,
resenting what our elders too liberally exhausted before us,
and what our children and grandchildren expect us
to conserve for them.
Here we are,
re-imagining what becomes theoretically possible
for power of unmerited, and unmetered, light
and not brightness of monotheistic power
Re-creating multicultural serenity
re-storying nutritional economic pursuits
re-deeming MotherNature's political passions
scientific and religious
organic and sacred
pleasures
While finding ever new positively healthy variables
to reproduce multi-regenerational soul food cooperatives,
savory economies of polyamorous healthcare
for geopolitically accessible win/win compassion
Without snapping food from each Other's future mouths
like rabid wolves
Without commodifying
plasticizing
militarizing moist indigenous values
of EarthMother's sacred living water
with rivered freedom to flow out
and rise again,
as we once valued gold
and salvation.
Here we are,
dry-humping Earth's healthy win/win
poly-empowering potential,
huddling against past traumatic win/lose
unenlightened mono-colonizing retributions
Praying SkyFather will not collapse
before we have raped
our sacredly rapturous MotherEarth
irreligiously raw.
Categories:
retributions, earth, health, lost, love
Form:
Political Verse
Holy is the Lamb?
Live sacrifice
stained lamb upon bloods altar.
What is gained by such disdain
for the life blood of youths longing?
What “god” demand his worship
in the hungry mouths of children,
the fear of retributions wrath?
Why the symbol of the lamb?
Soft, helpless, innocent yet
terrified in its ignorance.
Is this but a poor metaphor
for mercy, a clandestine attempt
to herd the masses into submission?
What sanctifies the lamb, cleanses it,
making it worthy to be offered
as a palliative placebo,
to appease the fears of
the worshiping minions?
What lamb, masked by the
menace of its masters, could
satisfy the needs of their “god”?
What lamb,
chosen lest they take a child,
would not go willingly.
What lamb
sanctified by the love of those
who hold no rancor for,
nor fear of, their god
would not be made Holy?
Raised up as a symbol of
the greater love,
the purer spirit,
the innocence
of Holiness.
John G. Lawless
10/4/2014
not submitted to the contest because it
wouldn't fit through the hoop.
Categories:
retributions, confusion, innocence, religion,
Form:
Free verse
Not just do to; do with:
Do with others as you politically and economically expect and hope with others.
Not just do with; do with each Eternal Moment,
as has always been done with you
and your Elders still flowing within you,
as always will become done with
throughout this eternal
love-life giving
is also receiving
moment.
Resiliently do with others,
as empowering
and co-invested eco-logical you
responsibly expect
and responsively hope
with others.
Not just others;
but all non-Othered others,
living and dead,
and future generations,
regenerations
of not only our species
but all species living on and in Earth's Integral Garden.
Resonantly do
and speak
and listen with all co-arising others,
as polyculturally
and inter-religiously informed you
win/win expect
and synergetically hope
with sympathetic others.
Not just pathetically expect Othering
treatments,
retributions,
complicated relationships,
competitive transactions
and miscommunications
but expect co-empathic re-connecting
re-binding
re-ligioning trust
re-evolving healthy win/win truths
optimizing cooperative and peaceful relationships
of co-passionate intent
and pleasure practice
expect gratitude
to communicate our holistic relationships
of multiculturally re-ligioning grace.
Trust in all life-loving organic others,
as passion/pleasure
neuro- and eco-systemic
mind/body
crown/root
sage/muse
holistic bi-hemispheric ecology re-created you
Without dissociative systemic trauma
passionately positive health-pleasure integrity,
co-activating win/win peace
on
and in
and for
and with
inter-religious advocates
and polyculturing EarthTribe intentional occupiers
co-presently derived
from sacred Earth's Late Great ReGenesis.
Categories:
retributions, beauty, earth, giving, health,
Form:
Political Verse
Economic messages,
models,
exchanges,
transactions,
investments and divestments,
restorations and extractions,
therapies and punishments,
health and pathology
come from diverse secularized capital media,
like egos,
and nutritional flows,
health norms
and energy centers,
power points.
Similarly,
ecological messages,
transfers of nutritional resources
and toxic demons,
are read in diverse media climates
of water restorative balance
and extractive flowing floods and pollution,
of soil health and pathology,
of wind power and superpowers of hurricanes,
of fire restoring warmth
but also extractively devouring,
therapeutic restorations
and punishing retributions through over-extractive imbalance.
Capital is to economics
as Energy is to ecology;
each resiliently mediated by WinWin positive intent
to cooperatively invest
and predative WinLose negative intent
to compete against other capital-centered climates
of holonic unrest.
Capitalism extracts nutrition
where ReStorative CoOperatism co-invests cultures of loving health
in budgets,
creolizing plans and designs
and mutual intent toward polyculturally positive outcomes for All
students and mentors
followers and inclusively democratic leaders
DNA and co-arising RNA
children and parents
patients and healers
PostMillennial ClimateLovers and WiseElders.
Categories:
retributions, community, education, health, integrity,
Form:
Political Verse
Coming over the open horizon
My eyes prospect the garish cliffs of day
And find not gold in the morning light
By sorrow sifted away.
But there and there across each state
The subtle sun of spring
A new crop harrowing brings
Into view ... and crows cawing to devour
The contentless cases of crumbled minds
Tent cities, like old cotton bales
Tent cities, like cold rotten tales
Of gypsy curses bringing here
Retributions of brambled despair
And I panning through tears
Turned away from the condition
That was for my history the predetrmined condition
But I could not shake the thought
Of butterflies by spiders caught.
Categories:
retributions, life
Form:
Free verse
We seek out the moon for guidance
In love and war; as our ideal alliance
We seek out the stars for inspirations
The best and worst; through all occasions
We seek out the clouds for creativity
From air to sea, it is all about, relativity
We seek out the sun for warmth and grace
To enhance, peace and glory to the human race
We seek out the heavens for solutions
For the sake of justice and retributions
We seek out love in far off places
But love breathes in our hearts and lives in our faces
By: Wilbert Evangelista Dela Cruz
Categories:
retributions, love, passion, voice,
Form:
Rhyme
Its way pass midnight
And the full moon comes out to play
The wolves roar echoes across this lonely town
The music’s died down along time now,
There’s a chill creeping up my spine
Eerie paints this town with such macabre colors
The falling snow, does nothing to dampen their glare.
My endless scuffling in the virgin snow,
Each step inscribes my sin across the pristine landscape
The world went black, the colors all but seeped away
Got stuck in the dark , with the light switched on
Trapped within a swirling blizzard , a surreal dimension of reality
These manacles, linked together by some strong dark force
Dementia’s hold on my hand’s so cold, yet so comforting
I can’t stand on my on two feet no more
‘Cause sanity keeps evading my grasp
Insanity comes so easily always lending a hand to my mind
My only crutch when the darkness comes out to play
My fates sealed. There’s now recompense for my sins
Retributions hunting my soul, I can hear his howl in the distance
My 3yesights failing me. The light at the end of the tunnels dimming
He’s on my tail got him breathing down my neck, my spines crippled by the chill
My feet’s looking for some solace in the chase
No apothecary insight to still my racing heart.
I find my self at the edge of my life, he’s got me cornered
My back pressed up against the air
The gleam in his eyes crushed the last ounce of fear I had within
I took the plunge.
Fell into the arms of mercy
And….
Woke up.
Categories:
retributions, absence, analogy, crazy, crush,
Form:
Ballad
I live in a rose-tinted town
bowing mainly to White Western skies
bleached of blue blooded color
but also of dire Eastern dawns
with smoky red skies,
warning farmers and gardeners
taking and giving nutritional cover
under bad-blooded weather
on our way to further apart.
I live in a NorthEastern place
replete with geriatric grace
yet less mindful of holistic medicines
less conscious through holy meditations
less green ecoschool wholesome
with cooperative administrations
of home
and families
and neighborhoods
as wholesome 7-Generation multihoods.
I live in a public space
directed by private embrace
toward trusting love of all four dimensions
all eight lifetime resurrections
From infant to WinWin child,
child to WinLose pre-teen,
pubescent to late adolescent,
where U.S. culture seems LeftBrain stuck
between delayed adolescents and too young adults,
young adults toward mature WinWin multiculturists,
voters listening to WiseElder leaders,
WiseElder leaders
longing to conjoin CoMessiahs
and Bodhisattva PeaceWarriors
and PolyCulturing Yogis
and MultiCulturing EarthScientists
and PolyPhonically inclined EarthArtists
and PolyPathic EarthEducators
and EarthFirst Mentors.
Researchers and Designers
of full-octaved trust,
if for no positively healthy reason,
to avoid hatreds of anti-trust
and ambivalent angers
seeking secular mistrust
and equivalent fears
finding infinite misery
pathologies.
I live in a rose-scented town
where three polluted rivers conjoin
worshipped by LastNative gamblers
reweaving our vapid ritual bows
within all four fractal revolving directions.
I live in a rose-fading town
aging while watching southwestern drought,
at risk of growing Eastern coastal
as Northern blizzards of chaos
compete with Southern hurricanes and tornadoes
of flooding tsunamic competing complexity.
I live in a rose memory town
filled with ghosts of LeftBrain dominant climatic pathology
rising up to restore RightBrain with Left
peace from within,
settling down to withstand
capital punishments
ego-justified retributions
without rose-tinted restorative glasses.
Categories:
retributions, community, health, leadership, peace,
Form:
Free verse
When all the sick
Are put to rest
Train station
And plague ships
Are empty
Retributions are fought
And paid
Nature
Again
Forced from towns
Highways and byways
Rumble and hum
To the movement of mode
Again
White trails
Crisscross the sky
Will it really
Be the same
People can’t blame
Their Gods
Just there wicked
And unhygienic ways
Will malnutrition
Poverty and hunger
Mate
To birth war
And hate
Will the little
Privacy that’s left
Be taken
Stolen
Without consent
Will social capitalism
Be the new bent
Social worth
Based on a social score
The one truth
(Am already behind the eight ball)
Will persecution
Again flourish
Targeting
The Blacks
The Jews
The foreigner
Beggars, pilgrims
Disabled
Women
Will Art
Turn black
With pessimism
And a dance of death
A return of Gothic
And Gargoyles
To accelerate
The wrath
Of Gods
Life
Won’t be the same
What was
Is gone
The flux
Of our existence
Replaced with
What’s to come
Categories:
retributions, birth, death, farewell, fear,
Form:
Free verse
Of those things that glamour for clarity
Of those roads that sipped dead calls
Of those shadows that retrieved retributions panache of the smoke that chased blunt images,
We are here for the death of our dead ones,
We are here to breeze out bodies from the ghost of our forefathers giving out beggars of spirits.
We are here for the sake of humanism and individualism found among the seasoned weather.
We are here to head home from the figures of fingers crossed in the blossoming crossroads.
We are just here for your sake &your future.
We are this spiced pumpkin skin driving impunity,
Driving the heavens of our lunatic fringe benefits.
When these spirits visited our forebearers,
We called them runners of evil in the night,
In the morning, we called them cats of love,
But the white brought a foreign god to us
We sold our shrine of mystic miseries to them
Now, they took our miseries to make names
And we transport their stupidity back to them
Thinking that they will accept it back from us.
This celestial aboundment is foregone fire
Forging the spirit of the world into our curriculum.
We are the timeless wrong that the villagers sing of along the Abiriba-Nkporo road.
Black Butler of generational curse we brought
Intentionally trying to visit the future vintages.
We are the cause of our own blood spilling through the thin walls of our shadows and spirits.
©John Chizoba Vincent
From_A_Pen_Refusing_frustrations
Categories:
retributions, absence, abuse, africa,
Form:
Ballad
We cannot calm the turbulence in the open sky.
We must bear with its disharmony as it passes us by ~Quote by poet
Tempestuous moods erupt within, a tumultuous severe agitation
Brings forth undulating vibrations, exploding with a pounding pulsation
Retributions unholy, big blue-sky echoes with conflicting resound
When the balefully coarse maligning words mercilessly expound
Somedays gliding my way high through a stream of consciousness
Taken back by the waves soaring low to a destiny that seems endless
My soul, wrenched and wretched, lets loose from my clutching mind
Over the ocean, tempest-tossed above knotty seas less than kind
Excuse if you will my slashing unabiding, dismissive demeanor
Never shall I find where tides gently flow, and grass that is greener
Clashing and clawing through dark gathering clouds are my fate
Exit you my friend from my world and my presence before it’s too late
Categories:
retributions, feelings, how i feel,
Form:
Rhyme