Best Rhetorical Poems
Can
you love
me without
the pain that love
brings?
An adnomination nation would be quite the agitation the illumination, hearing all speaking in agnomination would cause conversation discrimination to be a chaotic annomination or the abomination, this would dominate the nation causing confusion. The culmination, for instance telling one to drive off a cliff in his carnation, could raise a flood of damnations from all denominations
Once you said: you are a little devil.
So, look at me and tell: can
I make a deal with you?
there is a war within the mind that we do not understand
the esoteric knowledge that invokes every man
the human being is more then physical flesh and bone
because the body of the spirit is not it's eternal home
the being of a human is mind, body and soul
but the collective conscience connects each being as a whole
we exude the energies within us that manipulate each thought
as we accept the patterns of what the mind was taught
but if there is a balance within God's creation
how does one confirm thats its not manipulation?
for the forces that may be tend to be hidden from the eye
as the mind compensates the truth for what we call a lie
if there is evil in the world how do we know it exists?
is it only in the mind for the mind to resist?
or does this evil affect our spiritual and physical beings?
or do we intentionally forget until we believe what we are seeing?
knowledge may be creation but wisdom is the knowing
creating a hand grenade is not the same as throwing
there is a balance in life that many physically understand
but to comprehend the spiritual balance one must reach into the heart of man
Jesus spoke of love to help tip back the scale
but many denied the word believing the truth to be a tale
if this world was built on deception, secrecy and lies
how do we repent the world if we do not open our eyes?
how can man forgive the world for the laws it has transgressed?
unless man is faithfully willing to put his spirit to the test
to know thyself is a gift from every collective mind
as reality begins to drift into the vastness of father time
the epox of self-awareness is the beginning of a spiritual endeavor
as the journey of mortal legs walk into the land of forever
the path that was laid before the man who can see but lives without sight
was created to test his faith not his strength nor his might
I Asked Myself A Rhetorical Question...
Asper daily expounding fostering
inchoate manifesting mod
er writ writing quality,
solitary scrimmage tackling
undertaking, yielding whir
ring, sputtering, kickstarting, and
buzz-feeding at competitive, communal
crowed did metaphorical trough,
where household named author's
top New York Times best seller
tier, overshadowing under
rated genre bending, breakout aspiring,
story board qualifying,
opportunistic newbie man
use script artful dodgers
mere dust collecting drafts,
anticipating to stir infectious interest
incumbent - at mercy,
tripwire activating quint
essential key, which anchors print
ting projected uncertain
popularity first edition,
awakening, guiding, nosing
asymptote analogy steering
reader toward nascent
scribe, where paper
back writer wannabe,
toils away incorporating subtle
(hook, line and sinker) techniques,
(albeit apropos literary
ploys, a true test tum ment,
viz sophisticated gambits
to massage late tint
prestidigitation abra ca dab rah,
sine non qua cogent
see kant, and tangent triggers
modest mien fortified, exemplified,
and downplayed akin
to unassuming Clark Kent
in his cape ably nonchalant
transformation into superman,
and/or more pointedly,
some original heft leant
to set apart striking
poignant implement
exhibited by aspiring
writer daily revising,
albeit gal or gent
his/her uniquely obscure
trademark, but
eventually keen agent
assays non-boastful writing style
im prim mature print,
sans unassuming swiftly tailored
harried style seduces seek
curing sincere overnight reverent,
well deserved kudos
comically marveling
at thee most im portent
salient strengths, per
hops hue moored opulent
quality instigates
affinity toward nascent,
bar riddle be, bill leading,
bud ding scrivener,
not necessary alluding
to a hypothetical outlier
thus, any similarity between the
above statement and
a living person perchance named
Matthew Scott Harris
purely coincidental.
Lost in deep blue.
Stuck in a mood.
Find the sunshine.
What to choose,
A frame of mind.
Open new views,
Just so much time.
Go in win or lose.
Move on with style.
Whatever ensues.
Endeavor to peruse.
Rhetorical Exercise.
Wouldn't
It be nice ...
If people spent
As much time talking
TO each other ...
As they
Do talking
ABOUT each other?
A knock on wood,
You entered my office ...
I was showing a young couple some diamonds -
Oval Brilliants and Emerald Cuts, I recall quite clearly,
"Message for you" ... you winked, and tucked a note into my hand.
While they fawned over the 3/4ct F-VS1 in the pin spots,
I unfolded the paper and read - 'I'm pregnant!'
Oh, I never felt as warm and full and joyous ...
How we celebrated and prepared ... for her, our sweetie!
One of life's happiest moments, indeed.
Why do you suppose I thought of that amazing instant,
That incredibly exuberant occasion ...
At the same time I threw my ring at your feet?!?
Ever worthless ... ever meaningless,
Gold turned to ragged rust,
Joys, now made barren ...
Love, now but war.
rhetorical questioning
deliberately thrown
aimed bellow the belt
meant to hurt
meant to injure
meant to wound
meant to sting
all in the name
of dramatic affect
used as a means
of getting the intended
point across within
this play of swings
in mood upon the
maladaptive stage
of this unhealthy
realm of reality in
which we lived
They still try to hide with in caves
stirring caldrons brew in black dresses
elixir to cure from those they doomed
awful concoction cut from mothers womb
call it budding little one ground into a magical life powder
They still try hide to hide with in shiny walls paved
spinning centrifuge distilling formula in white smocks
medications to heal from those they expired aborted from a womans uterus
nomenclature nascent fetal cells manipulated into genetic enhancing compound
It is all in how you look at it what then are you looking at
You make it sound so terrible so what do you hear
Could you rephrase that I just did
Repent while it still today
They still try to hide behind
inspired to finish after reading the poem little feet by Robert A. Dufresne
Babies beheaded?
Babies killed,
By phosphorous bombs?
Metaphorical and Rhetorical
Had lasted forever and was historical;
Is something else and metaphorical;
What a mess;
Had to guess;
Effectively written and metaphorical.
Jim Horn
rhetorical questioning
became the norm within
this malfunctioning affair
never truly wanting a
genuine answer to be
declared
with a glaring stare
spread across the eye's
of resentment
words foaming from
the mouth filled with
such disdain
cultivated an atmosphere
of emotional hostility
causing the death of love
Feel how poise charms with a clear write,
Ink in bold strokes the art of reach;
Note voice that arms the way you cite,
Etch as style yokes finesse in each.
Rouse then the truth that lights the way,
Heart and mind sync with charm that wills;
End with grand proof that levels play,
Touch knows fine think as thought meets feel;
Observe how chance meets change that blooms,
Reap thus pure gain as reason knows;
Indulge the dance as ideas groom,
Choice speaks most plain as purpose shows;
Art in kind face abides with grace,
Love in this space clothes fond embrace.
Leon Enriquez
16 August 2018
Singapore
Somewhere there’s a
sunflower poking out from
the corner of a concrete
barrier, going unnoticed
by everyone except
myself.
And it makes
me wonder:
They say when
you fall in love with
an artist, you
can never die.
But what
happens when
an artist falls
in love? Do
they continue
capturing futures,
or only retrospective
moments?
Time is an old
concept—or shall
I say, odd?
Because
I see you in soft shadows
and storefront glass, in
wilted flowers I forget to
water, in poems that
end.
I used to paint what
might be, but now I
only trace the edges
of what has been.
They said that love
would make my work
eternal. But no one told
me it would make me
feel so unfinished.
Oh, and
that thing I
asked about
the artist?
You can forget about it.
I think I’m starting
to care less and less
about him.