Best Rules Poems
Compose eight lines consult your muse
Subject matter is what you choose
Just eight syllables on each line
Follow these rules and you'll be fine
Pretty pictures you do not need
Your words only so please take heed
Only plain text no fancy fonts
And that you'll find is what she want's.
Written on 10th November 2018
I watched a dog fight back the sea
to chase a ball thrown on the surf
it sensed no danger unlike me
when I chased young dreams on this earth.
at some point in reality
against those waves I lost my nerve
I blame my personality
respecting nature's tides since birth.
and now that dog's just running free
- its ball retrieved with canine verve
despite a law that it should be
restrained by harness round its girth.
I hate the patriarchy
I hate that men have control over my body
I hate how I have to walk around the city knowing that being pretty is a justification for rape
And I hate that I have to always try and counter that by looking down
Not making eye contact
I hate that I have to act ashamed because some men think confidence is permission
I hate that if all my efforts fail it’s illegal for me to have autonomy in a decision that would change my life
I hate that even though men have no idea how it feels to live in fear they have the power to make fear my reality
They have the power to make fear all I know
They have the power to take my life from me
I hate that when they say they want to save “unborn children”
They mean they don’t want me to have a choice
But when the child is born, they won’t help pay for their food
They shame for struggling when money isn’t available
They shame teen mothers even when the mother was only walking home after a long day of school, when the mother never wanted anything to do with them
And they say it was the girl’s fault because her “clothes showed too much skin” and because “she looked at me, so I thought it was okay” and because “she never said no”
How could she say no
She was scared to fight back
Because in the patriarchy, a woman is a tool
A woman is not her own person
A woman can’t make her own decisions
Because she is not valued
I am used and I know it every day
I am 15 and I already worry because I know this could be me
I am 15 and I worry that my little sister’s life could be ruined because she doesn’t get to choose
I am 15 and I worry about all my friends and my classmates and every girl and woman who has to live with the same fear I do
I am 15 and I know that while this is my reality now, this won’t be my reality forever
I am 15 and I am ready for something to change
Respect for nature
Respect for authority
Respect for fellow man
The rules of majority
Honesty is contentment
Honesty in everything
Honesty of the heart
Alive as the spring
Joyful in common things
Joyful of mind
Joyful just being
Gentle and kind
Happy within your soul
Happy with friends
Happy to be living
At peace to the end
Creeds I adhere to
Creed for giving
Creed for success
Great rules for living
© Jack Ellison 2014
Let's go through the rules for having a side chick
I know a lot of people won't like this
A few guys get one, when their relationship starts to get strain
Make sure you save your side chicks number under a mans name
Delete all messages that may look suspicious
Text her like she's a friend, don't put any kisses
Don't fall in love or try to fulfill all her wishes
Always remember she's nothing but a mistress
Never buy a present for a side chick
Only give her a present if your main girl didn't like it
Never spend time with her on Christmas or an important day
Cause she's just meant for fun, she's not meant to stay
Don't slip away from quality time with your main girl, to contact her
Your main girl is your priority, your side chick doesn't matter
If you've got a girl you adore and are happy with where your life is
Then you're dumb if you go and get a side chick
How long did it take her to be free?
How long did it take
For the wingless dragonfly to finally open her heart to the world
How long did it take for her to overcome Devil’s workshop
Slowly caressing her retinas
With silky daffodils and two-faced tulips
Where
Now
She dives into a glistening pool of complicated risk
Opening her atrium to the masses
Shedding incumbent teardrops
Just for that one standing ovation
To SET
HER
FREE!
It was then
Where pieces of plastic chains fell from demure stratosphere
Dented taps, similar to a shoeless dancer,
Setting off bass tones and low-key monotony
For she was
One cholesterol filled syllable short
To be genuine
One tearful, hyphenated lyric
Too blunt
To be embraced by their “god”
One dilapidated vowel shy
Of being honest
Her diary didn’t have enough pages torn
From emerald sanity
There were too many “Wows”,
Diluting into disingenuous shoulder pats
Her stanza pushed aside
A glorified booty call with no call back number
Leaving messages towards empty dial tones
…
How long will it take her to be free?
Until she looks up
Knowing she already holds the key
©Drake J. Eszes
TO CIARA: RULES FOR LOVING
Little dark haired one, don’t fall
for the first boy to give you attention
or pay you a compliment. Don’t fall
for the first boy who says he is
‘the leader of a hundred men’;
there are many false messiahs.
Ciara, don’t fall for the first boy
who sings you love songs or writes
poems for you, you will know
the truth by the undertones; follow
your instincts, they are there to guide.
Don’t fall for silver-tipped words.
Irish jewel, jade of the Isles, don’t fall
for the first boy to make promises,
actions speak louder than words.
Your autonomy is a gift but when
disenchanted it becomes a wall,
a curse. Don’t fall. Don’t fall.
Don’t fall, innocent girl, for the first
boy to bring you shiny things, a far
greater beauty shines in you,
a power unaware. Value kindness
over the things people call precious.
Keep your enthusiasm in high regard.
O, Ciara, whose name is whispered
across mountain valleys, don’t fall
for the first boy who brings you flowers
on the first date. Don’t fall for the first
boy to show you his rose tattoo;
please don’t fall for him…
Oh, sweet woman of a thousand names
respect yourself enough to trust
yourself enough to let go of the rope
and fall for the one who writes the melody
for the song in your heart… fall for the one
who knows the geography of your soul
because they are his maps, too… fall for
the one who speaks the language of trees…
fall for the first boy who brings flowers everyday
and grows gardens in your eyes.
But, Ciara, at least once in your life
fall… for a heart that has not loved
fully is a rose that never blooms.
NOTE: the real Ciara who inspired this poem has gone on to become Miss Canada 2017.
RED ROSE RULES
~anacreontic verse~
Guard by blue skies
on green meadows
the lover's roll,
a dash of love
cause cheeks to blush
a classic style,
a charming act
from nature's art--
to tease her mind,
to please her heart.
Her smile so bright,
he want this right:
the scents so pure
among all blooms
his red rose rules
freed from fear
shy lips reveal
thoughts long hidden
from her muse.
Eyes wide open
hands to her face
casting same spell,
orbs magnetize
on feelings so bliss.
They don't want to miss,
they start to kiss
only the breeze,
the birds, the trees
witness this tryst.
_____________________________
8:14 pm; January 06, 2015
#1
Put the toilet seat down.
What woman wants to end up falling into the toilet in the middle of the night?
#2
Stop changing the channel.
Believe me guys, when women are trying to watch a soap opera, you best leave the remote alone.
#3
Put your own dirty clothes in the laundry.
I hate picking up crusty socks.
#4
Stop farting at the table.
Do you mind? I'm trying to eat.
#5
Excuse yourself when you burp.
And they say our children have to have manners.
#6
Roll your own damn cigarette.
When was the last time you rolled me one?
#7
Clean your messes up.
Trust me guys, you're a bunch of slobs.
#8
Don't call me stupid.
We women are just as smart, if not smarter than you are.
#9
Move out of my way.
When a woman is trying to get something done, the man always stands in the middle of the room.
#10
Turn the music down.
I know you guys love your music loud, but sheesh!
#11
Get out!
The least you guys could do is give us a little privacy in the bathroom.
#12
Do it yourself.
I'm sure you guys are smart enough to do things on your own.
#13
Get it yourself.
Guys, get your lazy, fat butts off the couch and make your own sandwich.
#14
Use your manners.
We don't like being told what to do without a simple please and thank you.
#15
Take your boots off at the door.
Women hate it when men carry dirt into the house after just cleaning the floors.
#16
Shut up!
When we are trying to watch a movie, that means we are trying to hear it too.
Copyright © Cynthia Jones
Sept.24/2004
I know some of these sound mean. No offense guys.
We are admonished by guardians of civilization
to battle the enemy with due civil restraints
Yet with a nagging visceral realization
we know wars are not fought by saints
Rules of war shield all children from harm
disallowing rape and torture and pillage
soothing unease, assuaging alarm
reassuring every town, farm and village
Long ago Sherman warned us war is hell
as knowing heads bowed with grim words unspoken
Now lulled into another innocent naive spell
we learn again rules are meant to be broken
( On backdrop of current JAPAN tragedy.
Dedicated to all who lost lives and property in worst devastation ever.
Our sincere prayers for their salvation, succour to surviving victims, early rehabilitation)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hiroshima, Nagasaki, Fukushima
Nuclear destination, bombing and self-explosion
Human rant, God is just name for chant
Reign human invention, HE just mythological sovereign
God disliked apathy, shelved sympathy
thought to teach lesson, venue selected Japan
Quake, Tsunami, Fire, Radioactive leak, wreck plenty
65 seconds flat, venue littered with death float
Humans abuse Nature, expect HIM to spare, care
HIS justice, a show reality sans court, hearing or attorney
HE delivers salvation to devastation, superpower to roadside pauper
Avoid HIS wrath, stick to HIS rules, HE not Human actually rules
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hitendra Mehta
March 2011
For Members Contest – The Rhyme Inside by Debbie Guzzi
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'd
rather
color
outside
the
lines
He will make everything fabulous
Wait and see
He has a way of doing things
He knows what needs to be done first
And every step thereafter
He knows how to do things
Plan things and make things to come
We don’t even have to worry about the details of it
He is in control
Every minute second
He is on top of it
Don’t sweat, hyperventilate, exasperate
Irritate, gripe, aggravate
The Maker of this world is presiding
In charge
Why agonize, discompose, fret, nervous
While the Father has of hold on his making
God meant for us to enjoy things
Life and everything goes with it
Don’t be a grouch, a wreck, a grumbler
A troublemaker, a moaner, a nitpicker
God meant for you to be happy
Live life, sing a song, dance a storm
Make someone happy
Make yourself happy
Take delight in what you do
Take pleasure in what you accomplished
Be pleased
Get a kick out of things not called for, earned
Have a ball
Have fun
Live a little
God rules
When everything seems peaceful
and all is going well
you'll find out that Murphy's rules
will grab you like a spell
When you build your money up
a bundle in the bank
and trouble strikes at every turn
then you'll know who to thank
The car you just had serviced
is spewing smoke and oil
the fridge just out of warranty
now watch that good food spoil
Just when you least expect it
Old Murphy will appear
He's cruel enough to make you spill
your last mouthful of beer
At every turn he's waiting
until you think you're safe
the shoes that fit well yesterday
today will make you chafe
Your wallet's in your pocket
at least that's what you think
until its time to pay the bill
then feel your light heart sink
You glide along life's easy way
it's such an easy dance
Until old Murphy comes along
and kicks you in the pants
From my PDF book "Bush Ballads and Bulldust"
Starvation rules this spinning globe.
Energy is seized.
While goats and cattle strip the grass of peaceful light,
Vultures shred the organs of disadvantaged game.
As packs of wolves surround the heard,
Eyeing the weak and lame.
Buzzards circle overhead seeking every chance,
To pluck out the eyes of the men who fail to understand,
That he must take life to continue his own.
Those who don’t consume life’s rich plate,
Will fail to reach its end in strength.
Is nature blind to the suffering of the weak?
When so much blood is spilled.
Or is strength built through heartless savagery?
Who would not defend his offspring from cunning man,
Hungry beasts, and the vicious pains of hunger?
Some will say man has risen above such talk.
We stand exalted from the fray.
But larvae will not avoid those with foolish pride.
While lovely worms consume the flesh of broken stride.