Best Socialday Poems
My first day of college in sociology class,
my teacher said this is a hard course to pass.
He said he is going to test our mind,
and see what about ourselves we find.
He told us we are going to learn about social interaction,
and what men and women consider to be attraction.
He was one of the smartest men I knew,
but what came next, made some turn blue.
He said I have a 2 page assignment, lets have fun, play games.
He passed out blank note cards, and said write down two names.
The two names had to be the two people we love the most,
we handed them in and he said, now make one a ghost.
He looked at us and said, yeah that's right,
one of them you will walk into the light.
You have to choose which one will die,
and explain your choice and tell me why?
That was the hardest paper I ever had to write,
it kept me up all day and night.
Next class he said, hold up your paper in the air,
everyone did it, good, now throw them away I don't care.
I just wanted to know you could do it.
The truth is I have nothing important to say
The world keeps on spinning day after day
My opinion means squat smoldering away like a boiling pot
I speak of events and worldly causes
Not even an interested peep or cunning applause's
OK I know you say what makes you so different anyway?
Well I speak of truth; I speak in rhythm and rhyme
I speak of happiness, I speak of borrow time
I speak of familiarity, OK maybe I’m a little out of line
But what I really hope is that my words bring a connection
During such a peculiar worldly decline, or perhaps resurrection
Yes the streets are filled with flooded faces
Each one bearing the loneliness from inner places
Maybe just one victim of my written test
How shallow and harden is my lily-white breast
My tongue swaggers hot and cold,
Stop laughing I’ know I’m growing old
But I’m afraid I can’t end this given fight
No rest for the weary and this inkwell tonight
The truth is I have nothing important to say
The world keeps on spinning day after day
The streets where I grew up on was no place for the weak or disenfranchised to be
born. For just like the Venus fly trap it could eat you alive or crush your dreams. From the
time you awake until the sunrise in the east? The dessert fox was on the hunt, looking for an
easy meal to eat. This was no place for a single mother to raise a young boy into a man… if
she didn’t understand the laws of the dessert her boy, surely he would become the fox’s next
meal. No mercy or redemption for foolishness, weak or the meek, because the predators
here never seem to sleep. Blind bullets from the unknown took my best friend one hot
summer day as we played a game of hide and seek. All of his mothers dreams shattered and
derailed by a nameless bullet that took her only claim to a possible future president or the
next Martin Luther King. Don’t look so surprised about what I speak, it’s was the law of this
dessert from where we came from you see? Our tears were barely dry on our cheeks. and
the dirt that was placed on his coffin just last week was not even hard yet…as we laid his
estranged father into the ground the following week. Even my sister who once voted the high
school prom queen could escape the call of the foxes that beckon her in the night, as she
chases the white rock to easy her pain. Young sisters weaken bodies litter the desserts floor
as they fall victim to foxes never ending feeding frenzy on lost souls. Soulless young black
men stand on street corners both night and day in this place I call home… waging wars on
turfs and the colors that each other ware or just because of the color of their skin, but yet
they all hold no deeds in their hands for this land they claim. Firmly I do stand here today, a
black man who somehow managed to survive in that dessert to tell this tell of a flower
planted in a place where nothing very few flowers ever grow. People see me as I pass them
by on these urban streets, never knowing that I was a black rose that had bloomed…In a
dessert were only a few flowers ever reached full bloom.
I start my uncertain day with coffee, reading both The New York Post and the Daily News;
sharing this destiny with most of Mankind: struggling and paying with sweat my dues!
After a good night sleep, I jump into the shower,
while the freshest coffee is brewing on the counter;
my favorite newspapers have declared the new elect US President,
and I am very glad to hear that, and begin writing with a renewed zest...
to start my uncertain day with coffee,
which invigorates me with the creation of poetry!
I start my uncertain day with coffee, reading both the New York Post and the Daily News;
sharing this destiny with most of Mankind: struggling and paying with sweat my dues!
The USA Drug Administration states that
moderate amounts are healthy, and I sip it
with a spirit that's really exuberant;
without coffee I am inactive, lousy and distant,
and all who say that's an addiction that can cause much harm...
I can prove them entirely wrong by an opinion that's solid in form!
I start my uncertain day with coffee, reading both the New York Post and the Daily News;
sharing this destiny with most of Mankind: struggling and paying with sweat my dues!
How do you think I have gotten to be such a prolific writer:
by working hard at a blue-collar job, or dreaming of a million dollars...
when I finally become a published author?
Think again, nobody gets very far
without persistence and sacrifice!
Try to visualize me, I wouldn't be a hypocritical liar!
I start my uncertain day with coffe, reading both the New York Post andthe Daily News;
sharing this destiny with most of Mankind: struggling and paying with sweat my dues!
During my coffee-break and lunch-hour,
I sit thinking, in my green Honda, how it all can be changed:
to embrace another life-style by glimpsing into that glamorous, literary world;
every door seems closed, and each hope so sour,
and if by merit and luck, my published book became a best-seller in days...
what would be more gratifying: satisfaction or monetary gains?
I start my uncertain day with coffee...reading both The New York Post and the Daily News;
sharing this destiny with most of Mankind: struggling and paying with sweat my dues!
In search of a day to search for serenity
Against this abased society,
A quest stays on for a time
To outcry against the wind of a warfare eternity.
Out against the winds of tormented sunshine
Hassled by sped bureau clock,
His quest remains on for a time
To outcry against the wind of a compulsive barge.
Loaded by books the teen rushed for the schoolbus
Tensed up yester forgotten task,
His quest let out mutedly on for a time
To outcry against the wind of an academic mask.
Bumbled by responsibilities she dished out from her kitchen
Half boiled egg, two toasted bread and cup of tea,
Her quest bog down on for a time
To outcry against the wind of an homy bonded sea.
Lost by words, justification against sour litany
Countrymen beefed and he pled,
His quest for an ally against busts
Out cried against the wind of a cordial grade.
An ailed soul by the dustups of barbarism
She pleaded for a penny and held obscurity
Her quest for a snug refuge
She out cried against the wind of savagery.
In search of a day to search for serenity
Against this abased society,
A quest stays on for a time
To outcry against the wind of a warfare eternity.
While Financiers Assisi
The scriptures never claim
one day all whores will magdalen
and disbelievers paul.
There is no verse that says
one day all thieves will dismas
by the city gate
while financiers assisi,
their eyes, their tin cups up.
Donal Mahoney
I like being awake all night
like I'm a secret person
not real at all
child of night, known by no one
living underneath the earth
negative space, living like no one
known by no one underneath the earth
here we have our own private language
secret numbers recited on a string
a quiet glance revealing nothing
(a secret handshake a decoder ring)
bathed in the dull blue glow of monitors
trading exclusive bits of nowhere
sending a silent cry along the wavelength of nothing
we get our quiet rewards anonymously
our secret unsuspected nation, divisible, under the ground
there are so many other phantoms just like me
I will never know them, nor will they ever know themselves
nor will I ever know myself, there are too many echoes
reflections, diversions, obsessions, perversions
so many distractions in the belly of the night
the day is too active too busy too motioned
for those of the night hibernating like me
the day is too noisy with threatening emotion
for those of the night sensitive as can be
there are trees in the forest that are falling like madmen
and there are phantoms around listening on through the night
so as the world revolves there are always eyes enough
to fill the dark sky with their yearning, earnest gazing
though answers are few, and these questions have no end
I like being awake all night
like I'm a transparent person
thoughts rolling clean through me
that velvet darkness covering my heart completely
no sunlight should now penetrate this veil
and the night and I suit each other so perfectly
no division, no partition, a loveless romantic tale
not responsible for all that acidic sunlight
bleaching everyones emotions clean and sterile
not the usual child of days, instead a deep compacted mote
one who can understand the lush quality of the darkness
that covers the land and covers me like sweet mercy, nightly
I like being awake all night
like I'm a starlit person
who cannot keep the day
He would follow me around with a smile on his face
Kind of like a little brother but I didn’t know him well
Didn’t understand why he liked to hang around this place
I never really asked him and he probably wouldn’t tell
He tried to talk a few times but I brushed him away
Couldn’t talk to a little kid, I was too damn cool
Never listened to a word that he had to say
He’d still come around every day after school
Thought he was just clumsy but I didn’t ask him why
Told him he could tag along if that’s what he chooses
I should have read between the lines but I didn’t try
Said he fell down at home and that caused the bruises
He never talked about his family, never mentioned his dad
I found out later about the hurt he went through
One day he stopped showing up, in a way I felt bad
I asked his teacher where did Billy get to
He told me where I could find him and that he looked up to me
In my mind I could see him look back and wave
I found him and cried, bending down on one knee
I laid a single rose upon his grave.
Its funny, all the directions life can take
How dreams seem to linger when you wake
Do we end up right where were supposed to be?
Not the when or where, but the world we see
The promise of a new day
And letting things come as they may
Many roads have led me here
Each new step, moving past the fear
Whose to say how each day will end
But we all do the best we can
To follow our heart
From the start.
You have one
Yes sad and even fun
Every person has them each day
They flow within the heart, mind, which is what they say.
Involving structure, to explore every way,
Without, we would lose humanity.
Losing humility
Certainty
Never to be none
The day mankind disappears
No new life begun
End of times has erupted.
Passions no longer exist.
When upon this day is done.
Time will have stopped forever more.
Humankind will have lost the score.
Along with no gain or pun,
Wills forgotten nothing to shun,
Stripped down to core,
When upon this day is done.
Time will have stopped forever more.
This thing I speak, under the sun.
We’ll have no quality to store,
No, need for anything for sure
No thoughts sheltered or let run.
When upon this day is done.
It is the beginning of a new day...
Get dressed quickly as the others will be there,
Waiting in the dawn's splendor.
CHARGE!
Outside is cool and clear...
Put the key in the ignition and prod the beast,
For it must carry you along to the destination.
CHARGE!
The sun is rising to warm the earth...
Pull into the half-filled lot and get in line,
Shutting out the murmurs of those who have arrived.
CHARGE!
The growing reflection of a glowering morn...
Counting the minutes now, as soon the doors will open,
Carefully funneling the mass that awaits.
CHARGE!
The day begins inpervious to all except its work...
Click - Click - Click -- The seal is broken,
And the massed throng surges in.
CHARGE!
The sounds of birds twittering are but muted music...
Get into the fray before the crush,
Consumes all that have waited so patiently.
CHARGE!
If only the dawn could have held back the sun's rising...
Like locusts they descend on the blinking beacon,
Incessant in their insidious pursuit.
CHARGE!
A day like so many other in its simplicity...
Take the prize that you have won with so much conviction,
Raise it high so the red light's reflection breaks over it.
CHARGE!
The day now awaits to challenge your being like a sentinal...
With smiling countenance you arrive at the counter,
Fumbling that small card which allows your exit you mutter.
"CHARGE"!
Lady Guinevre sat in the cafe,
Perusing her favorite magazine,
Day to day supping delicious meals,
One day Sir Arthur entered,
He was very tall and handsome,
Gentle and intelligent by nature,
She was dressed fashionably,
He introduced himself,
A smile came across her face,
Sir Arthur was only visiting the kingdom for a while,
He was on her majesty's mission,
A gentleman of good nature,
Whenever he came he was very kind and honorable,
Would they meet again,
A request only honored by God,
My favorite Day Knight.
Author: Gwen Meyer-Erlach Schutz