Best Shiftless Poems


Shiftless Core

One heart, one mind,
Making music, divine.
One battle, one beat,
All gather in one to defeat!

It’s time to be bold,
And not overbearing,
To help bring forth light,
And healing to the world.

Remember the One,
With the shiftless core,
Our reminder,
Of who we always need to be.

Where ever we go,
And whoever we see,
We share love,
For His glory!

United in beat, and thought,
We’re not going to stop,
Because we are of one heart, one mind,
Making sweet music divine!

It won’t be enough,
To just believe, we must fight,
To overcome the foe,
With power from the Holy Ghost.

Come now, let’s win,
As we are unified in,
One heart, one mind,
Worthy of the divine.

It’s about how we live,
That we love and give,
Unified in one beat, and thought,
Now let’s spread the rock!

We are of one heart, one mind,
With one beat, divine, united in,
One purpose, and mission,
With a shiftless core, let’s give all to Him!
Categories: shiftless, encouraging, faith, gospel, humanity,
Form: Lyric

The Clouds Torn Down

"The clouds parted like the pursed lips of desire"
With God's presence in dusk and dawn — 
Do whispered moans damn this mortal bower?  

For in each stroke, dark is nigher
Though God's forgiving in dusk and dawn — 
"The clouds parted like the pursed lips of desire"

"The clouds parted like the pursed lips of desire..."
"The clouds parted like the pursed lips of desire..."

"The clouds parted like the pursed lips of desire"
Still God's light in dusk and dawn — 
While I grieve for the tongues in us circling liars.

My roots in rain seem more the crier
When God touches dusk and dawn — 
"The clouds parted like the pursed lips of desire"

"The clouds parted like the pursed lips of desire..."
"The clouds parted like the pursed lips of desire..."

Before I'm gone beneath my shiftless flower
God wipes her of both dusk and dawn — 
"The clouds parted like the pursed lips of desire"
© Paige Hind  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: shiftless, cry, desire, faith, god,
Form: Other

Premium Member The Cold Within

The Cold Within 

Six humans trapped by happenstance 
In dark and bitter cold 
Each possessed a stick of wood-- 
Or so the story's told. 

Their dying fire in need of logs, 
But the first one held hers back, 
For, of the faces around the fire, 
She noticed one was black. 

The next one looked cross the way 
Saw one not of his church, 
And could not bring himself to give 
The fire his stick of birch. 

The third one sat in tattered clothes 
He gave his coat a hitch, 
Why should his log be put to use 
To warm the idle rich? 

The rich man just sat back and thought 
Of wealth he had in store, 
And keeping all that he had earned 
From the lazy, shiftless poor. 

The black man's face bespoke revenge 
As the fire passed from his sight, 
For he saw in his stick of wood 
A chance to spite the white. 

And the last man of this forlorn group 
Did nought except for gain, 
Giving just to those who gave 
Was how he played the game, 

Their sticks held tight in death's stilled hands 
Was proof enough of sin; 
They did not die from cold without-- 
They died from cold within. 

-- James Patrick Kinney 

In looking at Didactic Poetry, I found this one 
that I thought I would share..

It is not written by me but by:James Patrick Kinney..

I feel it is a great work to share in light of what has been happening lately
Categories: shiftless, inspirational,
Form: Didactic

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Ode To a Mammogram

Ode To A Mammogram

Checking the calendar for appointments to be made
I come across a giant circle that I placed there yearly
take another day off work and dress for the parade

I’ve lost a list of many friends who I loved so dearly
a simple test they could have had to keep them all well
a large machine, a simple shot, the picture reads so clearly

The murmur of the lowering platform with silent ringing bells
a gentle tug, a shiftless stance, a long, long, holding breath
I wait while pictures are reviewed, some to dense to tell.

Another form, another mashing, another brush with death
why worry about what we don’t know, it just leads to strife
Shocking news, another mass, but we can get that depth

Somewhere someone has lost a mother, a sister, a wife
All women should take the time to save their own life.


Not in Ode format, so I put it in as free verse.
© Juli Freda  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: shiftless, women,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Home, Bleep Home

The time had come, we were agreed
To discontinue paying rents.
We'd make our plans and then proceed
To buy or build a residence.

i said an older house I'd choose.
A little house and lot would do.
The first of many fights I'd lose,
My wife and daughters wanted new.

Because of our financial state,
A giant mortgage would be tough.
I said we can't be profligate.
Two bedrooms and a bath's enough.

That sound opinion was not shared.
'Twould be the last they'd listen to.
And I was badly unprepared
To face the hell they put me through.

Each girl demanded her own room,
And two for guests my wife required.
(Her parents, harbingers of gloom,
And shiftless brother, who'd been fired.)

A living room with stone fireplace,
A finished den with vast TV,
Cathedral ceilings,  (Wasted space!)
And just in case, a nursery.

The house entirely made of brick,
At least three baths and custom doors,
With granite counters,  (Now I'm sick!)
A laundry room, and hardwood floors.

Its tubs so large we could bathe whales,
The hugest closets ever made,
New furniture from Bloomingdale's,
And landscaped trees providing shade.

A massive lawn  (More I must mow!)
For future pool put underground,
A grill and screened-in patio,
And fence so pets can run around.

                  * * * * *

We've since moved in and now know how
A home affects a family.
The years have passed.  I'm happy now.
We've added daughter number three.

To save on gas, I walk to work.
I carry lunch and no new cars.
My second job is hardware clerk.
I've sold my clubs and quit cigars.

Instead of crabs, we buy sardines.
No more expensive suits or gowns.
In place of steaks, it's franks and beans,
And younger girls wear hand-me-downs.

A lower temp to save on heat,
From pure-bred pets to shelter strays,
No gyms to jog, we have our street,
And no more concerts, trips, or plays.

More years ahead of steady debts,
But we're content to pay the price.
The five of us have no regrets.
We've learned to live with sacrifice.

A dream house we now occupy.
I'm feeling masculine inside.
I'm filled with pride when home I spy.
My family is satisfied.
Categories: shiftless, family, house, humor, wife,
Form: Rhyme

Circumlocution

carefully laid down one by one
penning the words as they come
choosing ever so prudently
a poem for ignominy
a tacit agreement quietly kept
between a mind and body adept
some coherant ideology
based on etymology
euphemistic ideas at best
lying explicits up to rest
compromising the mind inside
to make its speech coincide
with what most people want to hear
in their surrogate heart to tickle their ear
now the popular circumlocution
playing it down by substitution
negative vibes are now in the plate
served up instead of outright hate
dissolution has overtaken divorce
makes a better illusion of course
adultery and stealing just to begin
is no longer thought to be living in sin
"consenting adults" and "doing your thing"
"number one first " and "having a fling"
unthankful children are just being cool
the shiftless hustler no longer a fool
trust and loyalty things of the past
friends are only transitional cast
the savant has become a clown
as ideology touches the ground

COPYRIGHT © 2009 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC

WRITEN IN 1980
Categories: shiftless, allusion, bible, god, judgement,
Form: Rhyme


The Day Fergus the Frog Croaked

THE DAY FERGUS THE FROG CROAKED
 (A Children's Rhyme by Joan Donnelly Ellis Oct. 2015)

Fergus the Frog was lazy and fat and a worshipper of idleness
 He'd lie on his lily pad all day ...refusing to work ....didn't care to play.
 Had no interests...no not one.

One afternoon a visit to the swamp Uncle Fred made
 Saying Fergus you are useless and better off in a grave
 Precisely in that moment a crocodile scooped Fergus up
 Both Lily pad and frog slid in croc's mouth headed for lockup
 Croc closed his mouth on the pair as Fergus kissed his rump 
 As croc swallowed his noon day snack of shiftless frog juicy and plump 
 That's precisely when the reptile begin to jump
 He leapt to a branch on a very small tree
 Where lizards and snakes slithered to get free
 Then crashed head first in the mud down below
 He lie there stunned for a moment and rose real slow
 He coughed so hard out from his open mouth flew a slimy green lump
 It was Fergus the Frog that staggered to the nearest stump
 Then crashed on the lathered shore
 With a heave and sigh critters watched him die
 Now Fergus Frog is no more
Categories: shiftless, children,
Form: Rhyme

Let Me Be Your Freedom

When the world tells you what to do
Like you have a payable that is due
And there's nothing you can try to settle
The way people are, we can't meddle..

Let me be your freedom in this prisoned space
Where those who don't know you judge your case
You can tell me your grief and suffering
Rest your thoughts and stop your shiftless wandering..

You can be you when you are with me
No pretensions, its "you" I want to see
Be honest to yourself and stop hurting
Explore and be bold, I will be here waiting..

Always remember you are loved
I am someone you always have
There's no need to go looking around
I hope with me freedom you found.
© Pj Gongora  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: shiftless, care, character, freedom, inspiration,
Form: Rhyme

Sperm Motility

nature's way of saying
I love what you do with your tongue
mom used to lick her hanky 
to clean my face I want to kill her
aided by my only allies
the hobo armies of doom
resulted in a sweet tooth with no answers
for the impenetrable slits of her eyes
the crowd was aghast 
so I knew we hit the glass jaw
now back to the scheduled program
our man Swigheart Backhoe 
reports from Flat, Nebraska
on the next Heads of Kings exhibit
down at the Crusader camp
I'm trying to figure out why sperm motility
hasn't created a master race yet
The best of millions fighting upstream like 
Steelers' running back Don Quixote
over a million years and we still end up with
politicians with red putty noses that go honk
and readers of the Weekly World News
who renew their state of alarm by the minute
we're not one step closer to kingdom come for it 
sperm motility then is as effective an indicator 
of Darwinian uber selection
as a chicken on a rotisserie spit 
is an indicator of barnyard vitality
you are alive right give yourself a pinch
let's use sperm science to give the 2nd raters
and mediocrities a chance at the brass ova
the modern science of magnification
can certainly arrange for a 
shiftless layabout sperm 
to take a poke at the moon
enough with this Mother Nature swill
put the couch potato, the hysteric
the derelict pants pissing wino sperm 
up the beanpole and see who salutes
Mother Nature eats her young
and writes checks for the 
Eugenics Foundation of Savannah, Africa
does God have someone 
telling him what to think
so go for it you little tadpoles
get in there you little champions


From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.site11.com/
Categories: shiftless, how i feel,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member I Shall Not Want

We were both seniors, but he was
some 21 years my senior. Ken was
A most dear friend who passed
away a couple of years ago. I
was spilling my heart out to
him one day as we drove
along in the vehicle.

As I continued to utter my
obvious frustrations over
things I most did not WANT,
Ken popped the most pointed
question when he asked me,
"But what do you WANT?"
It was clear as day what
I did not WANT; but what I
WANTED was foggy and misty.

For a moment, my soul seemed
to have stood still as I pondered
the fact that I did not recall anyone
ever asking me, 'what I really WANTED'.
Either they did not care or they could
not see in me any sense of deep personal
desire. I think that it was the latter. 

Ken had not only 'words' that ended in
a question mark. That poignant question
had a quality of tone and a heart of compassion
that registered from him to me like none that
I had experienced.

I have experienced multiple seasons in life.
Call me aimless, shiftless, and lazy if you will,
but I was compelled to look inside my soul
and conclude that I WANTED stillness, ease,
silence, poise, calm, peace, and a cessation
of dedicated activities and involvement.

I WANTED more of what Ken and I were about
on that particular day. The two of us were
part of a men's breakfast that came together
once a week for breakfast. Beyond the
breakfast, our entire affair was a morning
about anything in general and nothing in
particular. It was 'much ado about nothing'.
And in this season of my life, that was what
I really WANTED most.

121922PSCtest, Our Soul’s Wish List Poetry Contest.
Unseeking Seeker
Categories: shiftless, desire,
Form: Narrative

Premium Member A Phobic Means To An Unending End

See me fast, feel me low, watch me strike
as I feel myself bottom blend slow into an aqeous blood slumber 
silk circulating all rotten terms as I fornunicate
the manicial social countermeasures I must employ
each day here on this Earth to stay unstillborn;vertical,
co-conscious and ever present,  I juxtapose 
this side of a recognizable happenstance glance of being human. 
A brain beacon of contorted body contours and ugly compromises  
compels my aimless, shiftless and pointless body careens 
into a coincidental Metamorphisis of battle with all elements that
ever-lastingly surround my supposed derivative surveillance 
ultimately leading to the judgement. None that of which I know.
I think, therefore I am? Do I even exist in this moment? am I a mistake?
Someone with a mindmeld accurate hold of our place in infinity once said these words. Am I Somebody?Anybody?Nobody? 
In my destination of holy conscious efforts in entertaining my fellow "sap"-iens; in negating their intrepid wrongness of their lifelong exposure 
to individual ineptiness, 
their PC psycho social stupidity, bending over to all of the "socialized ****-ities' that have been sorely intro-forced upon us through corporeal/parental punishment, and other sick f--k activities for infantile/racial/sexual/religious, and all other time capsuled compliances that keep us all under intelligent. 
I hereby label you as incompetents and Scumrags of the first order. 
Hopefully our evolution to greater beings, worthy of an exaltation, with the sanc-tity of our planet's life in the forefront of eternity, we will endure. 
You know who you are and what, to others, you have done. In the name of what?? Why? How come? Regrets? N/A.
In order for me to even look your way, I will need a viable Resume/Vita and Character references from you. I can then determine your "species" and favorability for open discussion. If u see me hitching, run me over, please.
Categories: shiftless, basketball, beautiful, dark, fairy,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member gone fishing

shiftless louies constant wish

for a new satellite dish

made his wife stammer

in her best grammar

come home once you caught a fish.
Categories: shiftless, anxiety, cheer up, fishing,
Form: Limerick

Oh No Not Trump

Oh No not Trump

He was an act appearing to be plastic
And always shiftless being so sarcastic
Also accusing as well as then abusing
Not much at all about him is amusing.

Who do you think candidate sounds like?
With a loud voice never needing a mike
Accept him as President and not prepared
Thought of this caused me to be scared.

One of the good old boys always being
Is odd ball like this really worth seeing?
Pile of it on us he is sure to dump
It is none other than Donald Trump.

Definitely will have to call him hard sell
Sound of his name is clear as a bell
Sound like loud swan who is a trumpeter
Has relatives who fought at Fort Sumter.

He and Ben Carson are a cross between 
something waiting to happen and something
that should never have happened in the 
first place.

James Thomas Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
© James Horn  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: shiftless, humorous,
Form: Couplet

Shiftless Insanity

I'll take some time to dance with my demons.
I'll take some time to speak with my angels.
I'll take some time to think for myself. 
I'll take the time to fulfill their requests. 

Then, I'll shiftlessly shift through memories of times past;
Unlock corridors and peek through mirrors;
Hoping to find the clearer message, that was once written, just for me;
Because in reverse contexts, it will surely make sense. 

But to no end, I bend, to see under thrice turned stones and still come out empty handed.
Trice with might, I'll break through deadbolt doors for a glimpse;
Just to make sure my skeletons are still in their rightful places;
Before I lock them away once again, to rattle in their own disgraces. 

Then, I'll take some time to dance with my demons.
I'll take some time to speak with my angels.
I'll take some time to think for myself. 
I'll take the time to fulfill their requests. 
Then I'll continue to search for the rest.
Categories: shiftless, angel, change, crazy, identity,
Form:

Eula Gee

Here lies Father John with his mum
Who told everyone John was dumb
Her final scoff,
"What a RIP-off!
You must be as dumb as they come!"

Well, lightening soon struck their stone
And we heard that old lady moan
Beneath the cross
She yelled, "I'm boss!"
And I'll punish each shiftless bone!"

Father John saw his plight was grave -
Eternity hearing mum rave -
A priest in Hell
Knows the Devil well
So he bargained his soul like a slave

Father John heard Blueberry Hill
Was a place where some find a thrill
Satan cast his mum there
But she found it just fair
Whilst her son shovelled coal with a quill 

The moral of this stone is grim
Fill your coffin up to the brim
Whilst some shed a tear
Make the most of the bier
Let your grave bear a pseudonym
Categories: shiftless, christian, death, eulogy, grave,
Form: Limerick
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Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry

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