Best Statements Poems
We wash our hands twenty times a day
Singing Happy Birthday twice, all the way
Scrub down our whole home
Don gloves when we roam
Hoard TP in all colors except gray...
But now that's passe, it's masks we must wear
Some are elegant, though what do we care
Our fam'ly looks cool
At work and at school
My wife even gets wolf whistles and stares
Zambezi's strength rules
who can harness our river?
electricity from water?
Nyami, Nyami
Kariba Dam damaged
by six decades of water
the Tonga tribes celebrate
Nyami, Nyami
May 10, 2022
Joseph May's contest on Naani.
Two naani of 24 syllables each
current statements about currents
When the Kariba Dam was built on the Zambezi, the Tonga people had doubts.
The dam was built on gneiss and quartzite and is made of concrete — 80 feet at its thickest point. But over six decades of the waters' rushing through it, tumbling over it and crashing down on its other side have carved a pit at its base and erosion threatens its foundations. July 22, 2020
The very thought of a naani about Nyam Nyami sparked my muse.
It is the River God of the Tonga people.
Some fellers like to make fashion statements with their dress,
But I'm a rather conservative dude (much to my wife's distress!).
I'm fine with loafers, button-down collars and pleated slacks.
I'm not taken with tailor-mades, I prefer to buy off the racks!
Some dudes make a statement with the T-shirts they wear,
Sharin' their philosophies with others (who don't really care!).
They tout their favorite beer, sport and even some nasty words!
Lord, spare me from wearin' such - I'm OK as one of the nerds!
The latest fad is sandals, tank tops and droopy shorts,
And displayed on their hide, suggestive tattoos of all sorts.
They're mutilated with things piercin' their nose and ear,
And to top it off, wear their baseball cap facin' to the rear!
I'll deign to wear a suit and tie to weddin's, funerals and such,
But I'm here to tell you, I don't relish it very much!
I'd rather wear jeans (of course with button-down collar!),
And a fancy belt with a buckle as big as a silver dollar.
Lord, forgive me for judgin' fellers by what they wear,
By what their T-shirts preach or how they wear their hair.
But, Lord, permit me to say, I've seen some rather curious sights,
But I reckon they have a right to express their First Amendment rights!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
I’m tired of influencers faking nervousness.
my generation wants to care less
these days.
it’s a counter-current hack.
we want to be less defined.
we can search and reflect for ourselves.
we’re sick of the emotion
that’s all over everyone’s faces,
the unsightly splotches of opinion.
the entire election machine,
the process of getting there, is smudged.
It’s a curated mess, an advising spin,
an incomprehensible hex:
“Oh profit pondering,
contradictory means to an end
- bless weave, and conceal,
bloodless dollar debt options,
painful penny pincher paradoxes,
and deadly debt bliss dilemmas..”
“Is this a witch or an arbitrager?” Lisa asked, after rudely leaning over and reading up to this point.
“I was shooting for a numinous type of beat,” I revealed.
“We’re supposed to be working on our thesis definitions,” she said accusingly.
“Are you not challenged, here, hour by hour?” I asked sarcastically.
“I need ideas - well - I have too many ideas, I need some focus, I wanted to see what you had.”
I deadpan looked at her, “Well, you broke the spell - I lost my train.” I complained dryly.
“Don’t put me in a situation.” she said, waving my gripe off as insignificant.
.
.
Songs for this:
Easier Said Than Done by Thee Sacred Souls
drive ME crazy! by Lil Yachty
Melt by Nilüfer Yany
i've had it up to here dear for i fear the rear end of the deal makes me feel so surreal that i kneel and repeat which makes me sink to my feet when i meet the one sitting in the seat previously defeated by the one who had been repeated on another shift when they all had to sift through the ones still standing in the lift who eventually had to move position for they wanted to hear the brand new rendition from the one and only expedition which when readily available in stores made top scores and put them on the floor which wasn't against the law at least not back then when you could rely upon a friend to send you around the bend or more than likely mend your mind which would readily defend anyone of whom you could depend until the very end…
at the cessation of the tedious conversation there were tales of a plantation found by satellite navigation and upon ascertaining the location there was an analysis of the seed which when we al read how it fulfilled the entire human race's need for speed on the bus that originally caused no fuss but has since been flushed down the toilet of despair for now we collectively care about what is here and there in our united requirement to restore what is righteous and fair…
now i recently heard a song that described a war zone as paradise but i see that as a head with lice that would eat all the rice leaving us all with a result not so nice and produces something at a costly price that could entice a game with too many dice but as i see it we will all overcome the fun run that needed to be done before it started whilst we reach the paradigm shifting sum that would be a never ending bun for those still remaining hungry on the street now grooving to brand new beat that's so neat we defeat and bring to an end the enemy's deceit…
To Be Continued...
I hate being asked to write about hate.
There has been too much abhorrence to date.
How is it that many people relate?
Perhaps love and compassion have lost gait.
I hate being asked to write about hate.
Contentious poetry seems to mutilate
The souls of the righteous sometimes vacate.
Participation in hate can deflate –
I hate being asked to write about hate.
To me, doing so is a big mistake.
Why is there a need to hurt and castrate?
Aren't there other ills that can the coals rake?
I hate being asked to write about hate.
One-ups-man-ship prevents hopes for checkmate.
This game without end will contention defend.
The devil happily waits to cremate.
I hate being asked to write about hate.
Hurting in the name of “gaming” …primate!
Kindness and caring too often mutate.
Afterward, growth of the soul will stagnate.
I hate being asked to write about hate.
Please use caution or badness will inflate
Destroying good feelings with words the spate.
Hide, oh my subconscious. Do not gyrate.
Why did you ask me to write about hate?
Sadly, wars in this world, spawned by words palpate.
So how does all of this to the individual translate?
Peace begins within; so, spread the update!
THIS WAS WRITTEN FOR THE CONTEST ABOUT WHAT YOU HATE...It disappeared, thankfully!
© July 22, 2010
Dane Smith-Johnsen
Statements are the treats
To the spoken,
But to the intended;
They still might ill-treat.
The Dreamer still dreams-day dreams
To find his passion
In his day,
But realizes at nights
That he spends his time in nothingness.
The Merchant says,
Where and when forth you get me my love
There and then forth I make you not my slave
Where and when forth you get me my riches, I repeat
There and then forth I make you not my slave
Then forth I unscrew your bond
To me
A yearlong you have, to win your life
I won't spare it at all
After this epoch of a lifetime
On the day before his death
The Miser's eyes go bloody red
As red as the flaming fires
In the failure's junk bed
While he day-dreamed .......
If we reduced most mission statements to just one word,
There would be no need to use a sword,
To get a company to keep their word,
As reducing mission statements to just one word,
Makes it easy to spread that word.
Accountability would be a good one,
Accessibility could be another one,
Reliability could be my favourite one,
Adaptability my second one,
My list is a long one,
So I will leave you to find your own one,
Now that you see what can be done,
To reduce a mission statement to the bone.
The yellow metal
protecting the unborn
will catapult to outrageous heights.
*
Sky confronts the Mars
in improvisation. On earth,
the dead were lying side by side.
*
Ah, the mercy killing
of oneself. Out of compassion
or taking a revenge ?
Satish Verma
Teaching I statements is worthwhile
you do not start with a pointing finger
Or a mean look
An I statement is not an accusation
It is an expression of your feelings
I felt sad when….
I felt upset when….
I felt disappointed when....
Expressing your feelings does not put people on the defensive
So much better than pointing fingers, angry looks or nasty accusations.
“You made me angry” is silly.
“I felt angry when you….” Makes a lot more sense.
“You made me hit him.”
I am not even going there.
How can you accuse someone else of taking your free choice away?
The more you practice “I” statements
The better you will be able to stand up for yourself
You will be able to retain your power.
If “You” is the first word you think to use, when someone upsets you,
Practice your “I” statements.
Retain your power.
on a soapbox
constantly yelling
black and white
statements concerning
what one should do
to be considered normal
became an unhealthy
ritual among the two
repellent souls brought
together by chance long
ago in a land far far away
This world is only flat
as I could wish for it to be.
All wishes come
from hungry hearts as mine.
Curves I visit
bring a noise of motion.
Unexpected joy and wonder
found in every moment
leave me breathless
in returning
to my mirrored soul.
My flatness and my curve alike
a twinkling others see.
Radiant eyes that recognize
no color of their own.
Sound in every moment’s whisper
draws me to it in a naval roar.
I marvel at the people passing
pointing to a cow.
Exchange their wonder for
an empire state somehow.
Trading faceless cards
from bubblegum for unknown toys.
Girls and boys of flattered pasts
retain their souvenir retainers,
voiceless comments written on their treasured casts.
We have each others back my friends and I.
Less traveled is our path and all our roads.
No center for this circle
always monkey in the middle.
Forever our trick always the tick ..
of a bomb that never explodes.
The bonds that unite poets are
stronger than the cables that tie the ship
to the pier...
You poetess
that you offer me your beauty,
that you offer me the best of you...
that you pour yourself drop by drop
in me, you who flow
your feelings in my chest,
you who confess.
secrete to my ears
into my soul...
What are we then?
We are brothers, friends, lovers,
we are further, we are accomplices...
beloved accomplices,
lovers, affairs, companions...
it's if we were
complete soulmate...
And I, poetess,
that I dash in
poetic adventures
to sweeten your life...
I unlock myself in half,
In bands for your
cheer - for you... I spill
my honey pot and mine
spells to maintain you
satisfied...why...?
because I love you, I adore you,
I proclaim you my queen.
You are my best friend,
my greatest confidant,
you accept my terrible
secrets and my simple
nonsense, silly ideologies...
I love you because you cry
with me, laugh with me, you
do care of my
crazy verses, my
extreme words...
I love you because you
defend me against everything
and against everyone...
you married my
poetry as i got married
with yours..we are
poetically united...
we are kindred souls,
free kindred spirits...
Poetry united us
forever...!
deportation statements during time
observe pulitzer worthy escape by decree ego
overlap
deportation of "homeless immigrants"
census fraud
is not a measure of goverment in california
re segregated aggregated data is not a constitutional law
being held
deportation hmis
creation of absence ballots in population control ownership agenda's