Best Simple Fact Poems
Invoking bliss magnetism, let heart sing,
aware at all times of this simple fact:
the idea or thought is not the thing,
of the fruit we taste and deeds we enact.
We are merely one of the many forms
manifest upon this earth realm dual,
wherein each entity goes through life’s storms,
suffering unless love be soul’s fuel.
Futile and needless are ego spawned tricks,
deludedly engaging in doership,
since it’s love alone that resolves conflicts,
so let heart’s mindfulness be our worship.
Behold birds cross hemispheres without fear ~
Our heartbeat signals God’s presence is near
Our heartbeat signals God’s presence is near,
warming this form made of organic dust,
so by lending strobes of silence our ear,
in time love replaces animal lust.
In our life, needless is struggle and strife,
for at end of days, love alone remains,
so if we but let God be the midwife,
soul’s liberated from ego spawned chains.
In silence there is no energy leak,
enabling God’s spirit to manifest,
so getting out of our way, so to speak,
as witness consciousness we simply rest.
Nothing need be done, save coming undone ~
Recognise dear heart, God and we are one
Recognise dear heart, God and we are one,
simply feeling His breath in us that flows,
restoring our light, shining like the sun,
repaying debts of love, which our soul owes.
All doings are done by God’s hand alone,
wherein all He asks is that we be still,
awestruck beholding inner light full blown,
whereupon all dark voids within us fill.
Just as we’re immersed in dreams every night,
shrugging it off on waking at sunrise,
from this world too, one day we will alight,
if we but release each offered surprise.
Dwell not overmuch on soul’s broken wing ~
Invoking bliss magnetism, let heart sing
When everyone goes east, he heads west
to him, every dialogue is a contest
comes into an interaction as the biggest
then leaves agonisingly as the lowest.
When he speaks, you know he is half-honest
even though he truly knows, but not near the best.
He always end up lost in the forest
this simple fact, he cannot digest.
The moment he shamefully fails the test
he begins to manifest
then becomes far from being modest
and everyone around him, he treats like unwanted guests.
Causing a general unrest
as he unnecessarily protest.
All over his countenance, ignorance crests
not accepting defeat, he holds high his egocentric chest.
Quick to make jest
but correction; he equates to incest
and disagreements, he always detest.
We all have the quest
to know and share the latest
so as to add value to ourselves and self-invest
which can be a cultivation to future harvest.
But knowing it all is impossible
and knowing half, believing to know all is ridiculous.
Admiting not to know it all is the fairest
but this is yet not comprehensible to him,
to whom; to know is like a conquest.
The wise keep quiet lest,
they cause him to become the tempest
and with every word, he neutralizes any palatable zest.
Oh poor child!
change or you'll suffer from everlasting molest
where no one wants to visit your nest
not because you are unblest
but cos of the truth of your infest
which now, is obviously clearest.
It is good to learn my child
and sharing is an attribute of Love.
But run away from half baked lines
or be humble enough to listen
while they become fully whole.
You were given two ears and one mouth
hence talk less and listen more
because an Ignoramus is always not far from becoming a fool!
Way down yonder, beyond the barn,
In that soggy, muddy old bog,
In a small and crowded, murky pool,
Lived gloomy Tad, the pollywog.
One of the things that made young Tad
Resentful and unhappy,
Was the very simple fact that he
Looked nothing like his pappy.
And, you know, he also didn't look
A great deal like his mamma.
What this pollywog resembled most
Was a chubby, little comma.
And the safest place--to say the least--
Was not that shrinking pool,
Where one well might be ingested
By some poor misguided fool.
Then one day Tad got so fed up
With his principal place of abode,
That he grew some legs, left the pond,
And became a happy toad.
I have so many little quirks that I don’t know where to start
Please try not to judge me as I bare my fragile heart
First there is my coffee cup, no other can replace
An antique made by Fire King, this quirk a damn disgrace
I dropped it on my driveway and it broke into a million shards
Trying to find another one really was quite hard
Without my favorite coffee cup my morning really sucks
An antique dealer an hour away charged me fifteen bucks!
Then there’s the issue of my purse; it’s rode a plane I have not
I’ve left it laying in motel rooms; the single thing that I forgot
It’s also spent time on sidewalks, long after I have gone
It’s ridden the roof of my car and was found on my neighbor’s lawn
One thing good about this quirk, my purse returns intact
Gives me faith in humanity and that’s just a simple fact
And please don’t get me started, the quirk with my long hair
I twirl it with my fingers and I’d be lost if it wasn’t there!
I also stop the microwave with a second left on the clock
I’m afraid if I hear it beep, I’ll go into mental shock.
Then there is this thing with ants; I love to sit in sandy loam
I can while away the hours watching them build a home
There are many oddities with my food and the meal that I just ate
I must eat my items separate, so I use a divided plate
And damn those raviolis; I have to know just what’s inside
Painstakingly peel each one apart, so the meat it cannot hide.
I have to straighten hung picture frames and items on a shelf
If I cannot make them just so, I want to hang myself
I’ve given up orange slice candies, because there is no way to do it
Unsuccessful at melting one in my mouth, so finally I’ve said “Screw it.”
Now that I have bared my soul and admitted all my quirks
Can we still be best of friends, if not, an acquaintance works.
Written February 6, 2018
Contest: Quirks
Hosted by Madison Demetros
There is a secret symphony in the whispers of the wind that caresses the earth,
a profound mystery hidden in the dance of trees bowing their leaves,
the ocean does not ask the moon why it pulls it with unseen force,
but we, made of stardust and dreams, seek answers in the shadows of time.
We ask the sky why the sun retreats into the abyss of night each evening,
why stars burn only to extinguish in the cosmic silence,
why hands part like waves from the shore.
But have you ever tried to catch the rain in your palms,
begging it to remain as an eternal memory?
Some things are meant to pass through us like the dream of a sleeping god.
Being alive is not about having stone-cold certainties,
nor being devoid of fears or feeling whole.
It is to dance in the moonlight knowing the music will stop,
to love like a flame, knowing hands will let go.
It is to walk through the fire of life and call it warmth,
to embrace the night as a river that holds the endless sea.
Why do we cry for the passage of time,
when time has never shed a tear for us?
You hold a moment in your palm and feel it dissolve into eternity,
you speak a name and its echo is lost in the abyss.
Life was never meant to be caught in chains—
only felt in the intensity of each moment and lived with an open heart.
Dawn does not bring promises written in stars, nor do waves make eternal vows,
the simple fact that you are here, breathing, is enough to create magic.
The universe owes you no meaning, but here you are—breathing, feeling, laughing.
You are the miracle you sought in the silence of endless nights.
Let your voice resound like a song of the wind even when it trembles,
let your hands create worlds even when they waver,
let your heart open like a night-blooming flower even when it fears the unknown.
What is the purpose of life if not to be touched by its mystery?
Hold the light tightly, even when the sun sets in the arms of night,
sing the melody of your soul even when your voice trembles under the weight of emotions.
For being alive does not mean to endure forever like a star,
but simply to exist, to feel deeply, to be part of the miracle of creation.
The nose knows
A sight to make tired eyes blink
Skunks walking away from another’s stink
A simple fact not known too well
With one end they stink, the other they smell
A simpler fact that not everyone knows
One end’s the tail the other the nose
The stink they exude
Can be sexy, or rude
A scent that says buddy, I’m ovulating
The difference between just dating….or mating
So, if you inhale a whiff of their scent
Be sure to assess for whom it was meant
For they do not have the blue lit I-phones
They simply respond to unfurled pheromones
though they lack the talent to warble and croon
they do have the scent to make others swoon
while leaving a trail of their pungent perfume
they make quite an entrance when leaving a room.
John G. Lawless
©7/27/2021
If they have to point out it is banter
cus you didn’t realise it as banter
As they left no clue it was banter
The simple fact is it’s not banter
Banter’s quick wit the sort with charm
not blunt brain dead comments which harm
banters apparent with its own alarm
you know to reply with words not arms
Some will insult you then say what it is
banter they say but the humour's a miss
the standard they bant to tells you just this
have they a brain or a head full of piss
One reason banter is something some hate
Many don’t get it run their lip like an ape
after an insult “it’s just banter mate”
pointing it out then banter it ain’t
Acting a prat is a different thing too
don’t justify actions stupid you do
a prat you are and stupid are you
It’s not banter not close I tell you true
Banter only works against a near IQ
you can’t banter with someone much dumber than you
Banter is something the dumb do different
They are not canny or clever they’re just a blunt
("Honeybee on Apple Blossom", 2020, original pen and ink)
Nourishing Soul
Like a bee to the flower
Holding pollen and nectar
What is it we seek at play in the fields of the Lord
If not nourishment of the soul?
All the basics (food, water, sex and shelter)
Being just that,
The basis for what the soul actually incarnates for;
Knowledge, wisdom, truth, beauty, love and music!
And so the eternal Way
Continually arises as a forking path
Between true and false, good and evil, love and fear
Each step a test of our discernment and resolution.
The soul by nature is just and true
And yet, like a clear mountain spring
Subject to contamination as the influences of this life,
This world, leave a mark; in short the karmic debts we accrue.
And so comes the practical necessity of purifying,
Nipping the inevitable distortion and perversion in the bud,
The stains – pure and impure - that remain,
From each choice and challenge met.
The king of purifiers of course being forgiveness
Based in simple gratitude for the simple fact of simply being
Alive and able to learn, grow and forgive anew
Traveling the open path in confidence with an open mind.
Thus we gain the keys to the High-way, hidden in our pocket all along,
The kingdom, ever-present Here and Now,
To walk alert, head up, eyes and heart wide open - to it all,
Knowing with resolution and discernment we’ll be just fine.
(12/26/25)
I believe this is a word of advice or warning
More than it is a poem
I don’t even know where to begin
To express the things I feel
How deeply I believe in my understanding
Of what’s to come
As well as
What has been
As I watch our Government
Scramble
To solve our nations problems with money
As did all the great Empires in History
That has crumbled before us
My heart bleeds for the people
Who have no concept
Of how to grow their own garden
Raise their own beef
Fish, hunt and live off the land
Which to be quite frank is about 90% of the population
What is going to happen when the people
Can no longer feed their families
Out of the local supermarket
Because when they go there
All they will find is a sign that says “Sorry out of business”
Ponder this for just a moment if you will
800 hundred billion may as well be 800 trillion
Because the simple fact is
None of it is even worth the price
Of the paper it’s printed on
And by the time our Government prints that money out
It will be even more worthless than it is today
BECAUSE THERE IS ONLY ONE WAY
To reverse the wrath of God
And that is through prayer
And I don’t see Congress
Falling on their knees
Begging for mercy
Before they start to argue about which idiot has the best idea
To fix what their intelligence has already destroyed
“ONE NATION UNDER GOD”
One of my first memories of what I was taught in school
History---------Repeats----------Itself
Every Empire that considered themselves above the wrath of God
“GOD HUMBLED THAT ASS” (Pardon the Language)
And guess what
Were next
Once upon a time in a perfect world therein,
exist a golden mirror showing only the truth divine.
Where remembrance in perfect light revealing
the simple fact,
the image of the love that sustains the living act.
A lady of noble consent got hold of this mirror
by happenstance,
not quite aware of its consequence.
Believing that the deeds over the many years,
gave liberation and solution, paid with joyful tears.
With her favorite dress and perfect hair in place,
she needed to see the facts, face to face.
But the golden mirror only wept in laughter,
and the lady did not understood thereafter.
She bought a new dress and added more rouge,
expecting the reflection to applaud in huge.
The image reflection showed nothing but the veil of soul,
not compromising by any faults in whole.
Her heart of the lady was burning now, by blind desire,
tearing of her dress in distress and denial.
Standing naked with the reflection in gold as such,
the veil of the self revealed its glowing touch.
The ancient metaphor of reflected light as gem of source,
is the spirit in constant birth with no doubt on its course.
Reflections in intimate salvation are the visions of truth,
spectrum in spheres of undeniable
eternal youth.
O, heart of mine! You've been so confused.
In the past, you've been nothing but abused.
And now that there's someone I want to let in,
You decide your patience has worn thin.
But heart, I promise! In him, you can trust!
It's so much more than sentiment;
It's so much more than lust!
This is it! It's the real; it's the truth,
Though such hasty development is so uncouth.
I'm exposing my emotions, my thoughts to unveil
The simple fact that this just can't fail.
I swear it to you; I won't ask again.
Just one last time, please let him in!
I sit at the end of your final stroll
Setting you free is my only goal
At the end of your life so tired and beat
I quietly offer, “Please take a seat”
I suddenly notice as you’re strapped in
Your victim’s father cracks a wide grin
For this day he has waited so many years
Is that your mother shedding all of those tears?
I’m sorry; you thought I would be all polite
Boy I am the darkness you fear in the night
Thomas Edison got the fame for inventing me
Though it was Harold P. Brown; a loyal employee
The first to meet me met a fiery fate
In 1890 I released William Kemmler’s hate
In 1899 Martha Place came to dance with me
First woman fried in the entire world’s history
I truly enjoy when I get to serve company
Especially delicious was my friend Ted Bundy
To one simple fact there is truly no doubt
I’m the gateway to Hell, come on check it out
I was truly invented to serve just one goal
I’m simply here to separate the body and soul
They all think their evil until them and I meet
I’m Sizzling Sally please come taste my heat
Old Smokey, Old Sparky hell it’s all the same
Smoke them or fry-em boys this is my game
Written for Deborah's contest
I was recently invited to a party
and their were quite a lot of people there.
Then it was discovered, I was the only one without a cell phone,
but I didn't really seem to care.
They all enjoyed a good laugh at that simple fact,
me being the only one without one there.
Though when I came with a sly, yet subtle reply
all everyone could do was stare.
I asked, "Why does everyone need one?"
and a woman replied "Well, just in case!"
I said "What, in case you may need to use one?"
"Because one is owned by everyone in the place!"
Then came, "They make your life easier!"
"Not having to remember all the numbers you have amassed."
So I said, "Can you remember your mothers number?"
with a squeamish reply of "No?" We all just laughed.
Sure they may be great for pictures of special times,
like cameras at one time were.
But when it comes to remembering those special needs
that dumbing down can leave you in a blur.
So really we don't all need them
and you can learn to live without them in your life just fine.
I've lived my whole life fine without one,
and you can reach me on my home phone, if you ever find the time.
Danny Boy: 11-27-13
There is a simple fact very few of you see
I’m as alive as alive can be.
I start at the mountains and I end at the sea,
Life is abundant inside of me.
MY life begins by the melting of snow and ice.
My rapids are guilty of taking life.
This saddens me deeply and it hurts my soul,
Murder wasn’t meant to be my goal.
I once had the freedom to plot my own course
Now, I’m full of sad remorse.
There are many demons who have altered my life
Left me full of heartache and strife.
They have built huge structures to alter my way
Creating places for them to play.
It also provides them with energy they need,
Evil demons full of greed.
Salmon swim up inside me to spawn far as they can go
Life and death struggles in my ebb and flow.
Forever altered, I can’t believe these demons can’t see
I’m the mother of all inside of me.
They dump their poison without any remorse at all
As entire species get sick and fall.
Now, I’m sad to say they have gone way too far
Clouds no longer block out the stars.
The earth is getting warmer and warmer each year.
The sky is dry and void of tears.
As the world heats up because of your choices
Mother Nature hears our voices.
She is the mother who cares for one and all
Its time you humans should fall.
As I run dry and have no choice, but to succumb to death
What will you do with no water left?
No more power generated from your mighty stations,
Creating another great human migration?
With no more animals left on earth to kill for sport,
Will starvation be your final resort?
I was once a mighty river full of a million dreams
Now I’m reduced to a trickling stream.
Your farmer’s wells are starting to run completely dry
As you all argue the reason why.
Climate change is nothing, but another hoax you say,
In the end our mother will make you pay.
Drought in the west with mighty storms in the east,
Mother’s vengeance is a powerful beast.
The situations you created through the webs you’ve spun
Create untold hurricanes and blistering sun.
There is a simple fact of this poem that is nothing nice;
All life on earth will pay for your vise.
I’m now broken and void of all my happiness it seems
I’m now just “The River of Broken Dreams.’
A Winston churchill’s declaration
to a tiny nation situated in the dark continent
due to its magnificence and sight capturing habitat
only matched by the electrifying effect of its hospitality.
A country where wealth has long made a short call
and yet to return to where it is needed.
Starvation on Boda-bodas, perambulating across its communities
as a longing for good life is never satisfied.
Yet happiness supersedes lack
on a nation which is tree loving;
a global competitor in Bananas, pineapples and Avocados
and a home to extinction-kissing Gorillas.
Satisfaction from pan fried grasshoppers
equates the appetizing feel of Italian pizzas and Turkish Donas.
Gender division of labour quite one-sided
where men are roof installers and women, the actual builders.
No wonder, female engineers and contractors
have long attracted the norm in a society
which is in love with Bicycles
and buttoned by a twin dry seasons.
Bwindi and Mhahinga are major game reserves
but its stand out feature so unique
is the simple fact it’s the youngest country in the globe
with one in every two, fourteen or below.