Best Speaks For Itself Poems
For a little poem I do perform
A depth defying feat.
By all accounts I do seem shallow
Upon a surface read.
But before that N/A switch is flicked,
Let me percolate;
What once was shallow, when you dive in,
Becomes a spring fed lake.
Contest: You Be The Judge
Sponsored by: Bobby May
Date Created: 03/07/2019
Your Judgement Rating: 1st Place
Beautiful roses
speaks for itself
in agreeable rapture
Inspired,
with a brush on a canvas
you tend my soul
Never false,
always unadorned
Enchantment of beauty
a goddess
in complete balance
One little sidestep off the beaten track,
Is a colorful garden of dazzling shades,
With blood red geraniums of scintillating hue
Interspersed by those of white and baby pink,
Where beauty sings mysteriously,
Reigning in every theme, a place of bliss
Where silence speaks for itself,
Where bees are the only intruders, I suppose.
A place to feast the eyes and relax,
Reminding one of the Garden of Eden!
At its center is someone, in blossoming beauty.
Not sure if she is sitting on the edge of a boulder,
Or simply crouching on the carpet of grass,
Or is it a statue set up amid the array of flowers?
An angelic form so intent on what she does,
Lost to the world, her face bent,
But eyes moving up and down,
In tandem with the sewing needle in hand.
Is she stitching a frock for her little girl,
Sitting close to her mother’s feet?
A starlet fallen from the night sky,
Or a cherubim dropped down from heaven’s height,
In flowing azure blue frock with golden hair.
She too, like her mother, is so absorbed,
Pouring her soul in to the open book in her lap.
May be a ploy employed by the mother,
Not to disturb her in her work.
Oh, vagrant winds, come not close,
To disturb the tranquility of the two
Wholly sinking into what they are doing.
Kindly veer in another direction
And don’t interrupt their solitude!
April.22. 2023
A Brian Strand Premiere . No1210 Poetry Contest
This is based on Claude Monet's famous painting- Madame- Monet-and-child, where he has pictured his wife Camille and child in his garden.
Gloom pervades, an empty stillness hovers,
No sound, except the echo of faint sighs,
Rising from a frail chest.
Popped upon white pillows, a small girl reclines
On her sick bed, incapable of sitting up.
Her body down the waist, is wrapped
In a thick blanket to douse the chills of fever.
Consumption has eaten away her vitality
Her sick lungs gasps for breath
Her face, a white paper- pale and bland
Her golden hair lies disheveled.
A curtain hangs dull, half drawn
Waiting for the final pull.
The lady, her aunt who has been with the child
Through her tortuous journey,
Bends down clasping her frail hand
Unable to face the girl’s blank stare.
A yellowing leaf is about to take its downward spiral.
An unseen guest waits for the final embrace.
The faint stirring of life will soon desert her.
Yet love remains, a whiff of cool breeze,
Fanning her fears away with a gentle clasp.
In a critical moment of suffering and helplessness,
No medicine, but love alone serves as balm.
Each blurred stroke unravels the silence,
Of art that speaks for itself~
Man’s vulnerability and hovering sorrow,
Of a life so enigmatic, cast in gloom’s shroud.
There a jealous hood rat in are neighborhood
If you expecting me to call you a man I can't
because your attitude speaks for itself
Theres a jealous hood rat in the neighborhood
and it's you with your fake toy gun
and your cheap flip phone
Showboating all across the world not knowing when you going to settle down
Dipping in and out every females house
not knowing where to lay that hat down
Hood rat when you going to settle down
You need to stop playing with those little girls and deal with a woman
Because Iam a real woman who don't deal with fake boys who carry around squirt gun
I need a real man to take good care of me
Little boy move on
Go play on another playground
because this here is somebody else turf
Theres a jealous hood rat in are neighborhood
and it you
with your fake $ 99.00 dollar fake chromes on your buggy automobile and your fake air Jordans
shoe are not real because every step you make
Your shoes scream out why don't this hood rat buy some real shoes
I don't deal with hood rats that wear long stain shirts that look like a gown
I don't deal with hood rats that smell like a skunk from cheap cologne
I don't deal with hood rats who teeth look like green mold
Skedaddle poo poo boy
By, Shaniki Smith
June 3, 2016
When it boils down to the truth taking a platform
the words Jesus speaks deeply to me
Most assuredly I say to you
before Abrabham was I am
there is no one before Him or after Him
In my books He is Alpha and Omega
clearly from this statement our Lord says
I am the first and I am the last
besides Me there is no God
Picking up the stones under blasphemy laws
being a man trying to make yourself a god low key
speaks for itself the worth you attach to life
for what works do you label someone
is it for the value or beliefs held inside
for every attack is on Love by hate
and our King holds the keys of Hades and of Death
Washington DC deeply mourns
Elegance at its best
The horizon of sunrise to sun down which can both contest
The term “STAND BY YOUR MAN”
Nancy Reagan fits that caravan
Social butterfly
Nancy Reagan was her married last name
But her life also surrounded Hollywood in bringing her fame
Yet Nancy Reagan had a very fulfilled life
She lived throughout her creed
Her mission was to continue to proceed
Nancy Reagan’s name known throughout the world
The world’s heart captivated in tears
But her life contributed in having no fears
It was Nancy Reagan’s pause being her own class act
This is a true known fact
There was emptiness in her heart, and she longed to hear her late husband Ronald Reagan voice once again
Ronald Reagan’s voice did call
I saved you a place to be by my side
Heaven was all prepared
The chariot was set just right
Suddenly there was a strong beaming light
Nancy Reagan responded that the light was extremely bright
It was the signal for Nancy Reagan to come up
I saw two flying Doves
It was each in enduring love
Nancy Reagan will be missed
She left an enriched and embraced life
But she also states, don’t mourn long for me
I am at rest in a place I want to be
Yes I was Nancy Reagan for all to see
But I want you to remember me as Nancy
You know, the one into fashion and fancy
My three components, COMMITMENT, DETERMINATION AND DESTINED
This sums up Nancy Reagan’s life while she lived
Her devotion in time that she would normally give
Her motto, Live on, but be involved
The world’s problems, just try to solve
My legacy of who I was speaks for itself
Don’t think of me like everybody else
As a Dove, I must fly on to the next chapter of my life
A journey far and long, but Heaven is where I belong
I hear music in my arrival
I hear singing of joy
My life has been fulfilled and I want you all to carry on still
I say until we meet again to all my loving friends.
The tree stands limp, dormant within a garish black unheard sky
Innocently displaying
(Mans inferiority complex)
Light reflects white which lays in leaf and dried blood
Which once flowed as two, then, young men
The dark is lost ..in time..yet again
Angelic sprites hang as christmas baubles for those
Who seem fit to smile and point
So much white, in teeth and flesh
The shirt reflection is good and oh so good
And angelic and dark are ne-er the twain
And what a party! we would believe them say
With their bobbed hair and smile as bright as they
Could muster for the camera
The gaggle
The beast
Who in their filth and ignorance
Once believed
To lynch a man is a fair mans game
To smile with one pointed finger
(have you no shame!)
Please note... this is a competition entry based on a picture i found disturbing but wanted my say... when we are young angels are always (as far as i know portrayed in white and the darker side) well that speaks for itself... in the picture the goodness seemed the calm dark sky and the two poor souls,where as the foreground where most of the light is reflected seems all that is wrong with this world...
american lynching in the south 1930shttp://listverse.files.wordpress.com/2007/08/1930-lynching.jpg
I won a gold for this.
When it boils down to the truth taking a platform
the words Jesus speaks deeply to me
Most assuredly I say to you before Abrabham was I am
there is no one before Him or after Him
In my books He is Alpha and Omega
clearly from this statement our Lord says
I am the first and I am the last
besides Me there is no God
Picking up the stones under blasphemy laws
being a man trying to make yourself a god low key
speaks for itself the worth you attach to life
For what works do you label someone
is it for the value or beliefs held inside
for every attack is on Love by hate
and our King holds the keys of Hades and of Death
Openly opinionated
Blunt with few social skills
Nobody likes a know it all
Overbearing and rude
Xanthippe – this speaks for itself!
Ignorant of the feelings of others
Often wrong but you will never admit it
Unwilling to listen to advice
So full of your own importance
Why do you treat people so badly?
Other people’s opinions matter
Maybe you should take a good look at yourself
All people deserve to be treated with respect
NEVER cross my path again
25th July 2015
Of Pilgrims and Indians
By Elton Camp
In school we are taught a history filled with lies
In order that American history be well sanitized
The Pilgrims were a stern but gracious bunch
Who invited the Indians in to share their lunch
The Pilgrims were grateful to God to still be alive
And that with the Indian’s help, winter did survive
In their joy that they were still among the living,
Fed the savage natives at the first Thanksgiving
They thought themselves to be God’s chosen group
That those evil heathen it was God’s will they dupe
They were the new Canaanites in the promised land
Who, unless they converted, suffered a stern hand
In the name of Christ, they had every right to slaughter
Any the rebellious Indians: man, wife, son or daughter
The massacres of the Pequots are a very good example
Of what the Indians could expect was only a sample
Defenders of Pilgrims say that they were a hostile tribe
Murderous and far more vicious than one could describe
But, the Pequots were quite tranquil and living in peace
When Pilgrims hunted them like animals did that cease
It was in 1637, to the evil Pilgrim’s everlasting shame
Set a village on fire & shot those who escaped the flame
Before they set out with the intention to destroy a village
They prayed to their Lord to direct them in their pillage
To Indian captives, Pilgrims showed the extent of hate
To murder wasn’t enough, so they enjoyed to mutilate
So one Pequot man they literally tore limb-from-limb
Until Captain Underhill showed mercy and shot him
And by candid records written at that time, we’re told
Captives they decided not to kill, into slavery they sold
Other Indian tribes, to help, the Pilgrims did compel
And demanded body part of victims as success to tell
Some may teach we cannot know what motives they had
But their conduct speaks for itself and is so terribly bad
To viciously kill other people seemed to give them a thrill
Then they made it worse by claiming that it was God’ will
(The version of the Pilgrims we are taught is school is nearly a complete falsehood.
An example of spinning history. Sorry to crush any childhood delusions.)
As my story begins,
I was born on 30th March 6889 AD with beats audio in my ears,
With a pen in between my index finger,
So make no err, I’m a playwright and so was my Queen Mother,
Even when I never had and I have no cheese, music fed & feeds me.
My ears don’t listen to this, that & those!
Music is my sovereign princess because it never breaks my heart & it will never,
So I fell in love with music because it’s Y.A.S,
That’s why I #8ryan I will never refrain from listening to music & writing!
I got all music genres in my favorite playlist, after all music is my, mind control,
So let’s, bass, stereo, pop, jazz, classic & rock my playlist,
Killjoys, don’t yah make a name against #8ryan’$ music club life,
Because there dwells only one club life at time in Amagoro!
My music room is my habitual writing room!
30th March is a Celly day for my birth-date & my music club life, so STFU,
Cause’ music qualifies to inspire me to write,
This freedom at 21st century makes me to be cool #Af
Cause’ my music club life speaks for itself,
Now shall you take my name & use it, let me be,
Cause’ I’m the minister of words!
And the winner who will never quit on himself
Enjoy the funkin poem.
T.m.Ts ©BryanDePoet
No reason to concoct clever and corrupt schemes to make me see you.
I watch you anyway.
Do not go to extremes that exfoliate the energy that you conceive.
I already believe in you.
Please, do not plot panic ploys to penetrate the world's persistence against you.
You have the distance to overcome it all.
No need to destroy yourself or future so someone can feel your pain when
some of us already do.
It is pointless to define your determination as unsuccessful when you were the sperm that made it.
Speaks for itself.
You are beautifully made, with details that no one else has or will possess beyond imagination,
So suicide would be not only ridding the world of a gift but
yourself of it,
so please...allow your light to shine,
it could never do so without some shades of darkness.
-
It was a love that spoke for itself,
as natural as a poem
which grows in a flower
at the end of its rod.
without ever having confessed it,
I have never conjugated the verb to love.
Life goes like this:
we don't know if she goes ahead
or slips through our fingers:
The most beautiful roses fade,
not their beauty,
but through death, which takes everything away.
Today I bury her,
but the words I intended say to her,
will never reach her heart.
Sleeping Beauty,
who knows , if ultimately
the kiss of my thought
will be able to turn times upside down
as well as a film played backwards,
giving the petals the radiance of their colors:
It's a love that speaks for itself,
as natural as a poem,
that you take to your grave.
-
(originally written in french... see below )
-
C'est un amour qui parlait de lui-même,
aussi naturel qu'un poème
qui se développe en fleur
au bout de sa tige .
Sans l'avoir jamais avoué,
je n'ai jamais conjugué le verbe aimer.
La vie se déroule ainsi:
on ne sait si elle va de l'avant
ou file entre nos doigts :
Les plus belles roses se fanent,
non pas leur beauté,
mais par la mort, qui vient tout emporter.
Aujourd'hui je l'enterre,
mais les mots que je lui destine,
n'atteindront jamais son cœur .
Belle au bois dormant,
qui sait en fin de compte
si le baiser de ma pensée
pourra remontera le temps,
ainsi qu'un film passé à l'envers,
redonnant aux pétales l'éclat de ses couleurs :
C'est un amour qui parle de lui-même,
aussi naturel qu'un poème ,
que tu emportes dans ta tombe .
La manera correcta
Three words of Spanish i say
Don't know what it means
But people say its the right way
La manera correcta
Echoes in my ears all the time
When i keep humming it throughout the day
Making out every possible way to make it rhyme
La manera correcta
Speaks for itself in its own way
Irrespective of whats right or wrong
Oh but its the right way
La manera correcta
Every time i hear these words
Feels like something good will happen today
Make me think openly, like the free birds