Best Stipend Poems
Last night I awoke to the sign of Orion, and the big dipper pouring beauty into her
countenance.
Though the stars say she is a Capricorn, a meager goat, I see Orion’s majesty every time I
stare into here full lips and wide Sophia Lauren Smile.
Her sleek and slender body bodes of Spartan stubbornness.
A stubbornness that’s had me fuming on the wrong kind of sides, of the wrong kinds of days.
Most days, we spend our lives like firefighters, putting out 101 degree fevers, cars
breaking down, and trying to make ends meet on a student’s stipend,
And as days pass, we see separation as an impossibility for how could we possibly survive
without each other?
But last night, I was freed from the stress of overfilled garbage cans and overdue
research projects,
To see her high and lifted up in the unconditional light which she shines for so many,
So many children, to whom she’s been a second mother, screaming, “Ms. Lucas!!!, Ms.
Lucas!!!,” as we see them in the mall.
The countless times that she’s saved me form suicide with a hope unfettered and sincere,
You see last night, I got a quick glimpse into my life as heaven sees it, and I saw my
wife for the first time, lifted high into the deep night, shining for the world.
Oh don’t get me wrong, I truly see her everywhere,
Every where there is courage, I see her wringing the neck of the crack head that almost
kidnapped our oldest in Chicago,
Every time I see kindness, I see her soothing voice in my ear saying, “Keep going baby,
you’re almost out of the tunnel.”
Whenever I see pain, I see her face when she looked down at her dead father’s body, stoic
and resolved that his tragedy would not mar her memory of his greatness.
Every time I see strength, I see a woman who buried her brother in the same summer of her
honeymoon and still smiled wide with sincerity.
But last night, God removed the veil, and I saw her through heaven’s eyes,
Glorious and heroic,
And in that moment I realized that nothing can stop me, because I sleep next to Orion.
Machel, the hero of old.
Categories:
stipend, loveme, time, me, time,
Form:
Blank verse
can't even fart anymore
without kicking up a hurricane
halfway around the Earth
according to reports this has occurred
at a great loss of life and mind
within minutes of the methane
the dominoes began to rumble
and poor Flash who was
merely greeting the morning sun
became history's first flatomaniac
Flash was burly with hair
up and down his back like
a mink in a 5th Avenue perfumery
his girl Florence was in cartoons
playing the hope card
in a séance with the laboring masses
at the Union of Opposites hiring hall
I was giving the citizens
an anatomy lesson your Honor
I should be given a stipend
for public elucidation
Flo was the key if not only witness
thought she saw the god Apollo
leaping out of a moving taxi
the effect was so dramatic
that she had to leap too
and hasn't stopped since
her testimony was a monstrosity of detail
in conclusion my rebuttal established
several seemingly salient selections
I am a dissector by trade your Worship
and a taxpaying asset to any community
Flash was sentenced with stern admonishment
you will henceforth exercise your libido
within the confines of spherical propriety
to which Flash assented
without the slightest ********
er objection
and somehow strangely unafraid
the Flasher of Costa del Mar
disappeared one night
sucked into the belly of an alien craft
over the cattle lip badlands of Montana
they commenced their hideous experiments
as Flash mused without anesthesia
on the incalculable immensity
of the starry Universe
and watched a mobile home run amok
across 9 lanes of traffic
From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.byethost32.com/
Categories:
stipend, how i feel, universe,
Form:
Free verse
Please stop child labor
Let the poor kids go to school
Please give them stipend
Categories:
stipend, childhood, education, inspirational, people,
Form:
Haiku
I Don't Want to Live This Life
(Change of pace equals review of book
long out of circulation,
but eyes experience immediate hook
so perhaps...take a look
and best locate a cozy nook).
Authored by Debbie
Spungen early 1980's,
yours truly doth recommend
perhaps Facebook
message I will send
whose person I would
be eager to befriend
cuz, title of poem by me,
and book written, sans arduous
motherhood to contend
by above (now octogenarian) gal,
a pitched battle blend
of brute confessional honesty,
and maternal love,
yet heaven forfend,
such sacrifice after gleaning
(of... course add in mix amidst end
of post World War II establishment,
viz hippie revolution number 9)
now only praise, aye absolutely commend
dubble "NOT FAKE" grueling
tale of emotional survival
during anti war
counter cultural trend
insert flaps did bend
immediate curiosity as
spurious hours to expend
choice of reading material,
thus found this bookworm
trying to comprehend
analogous taming wild animal
hence, engrossed many hours on end
today sunday February 17th, 2019
since birth Nancy Spungen the
firstborn and utter archfiend,
whose decade long trajectory,
yet to complete reading
harrowing story til the bloody end,
where near total
mortal kombat doth descend
how young mom stayed sane
one can only applaud and defend,
the monster birthed
from doting parents,
as both key figures
appeared to extend
more patience than Job,
mebbe wounds will never mend
unfortunate unbearable task
since day one did portend
a downward spiral, each day and night
for twenty orbits of Earth round sun
surviving family members
punishing trial may forever
garner kudos to legend
deary selflessness still
cost steep psychological stipend.
Categories:
stipend, addiction, birth, courage, death,
Form:
Elegy
What can I say about my sisters?
Are they a thorn in the side, like blisters?
Or my oldest friends, indeed,
Always mentors in time of need,
The family ties that bind,
Ever ready to say "Never mind",
We look alike, but think apart,
Oldest friends from times long past,
"Older ladies', we've ripened,
Can't buy sisters with a stipend,
Are sisters thorns in the sides like blisters?
No, you cannot buy my sisters!
Categories:
stipend, family, feelings, sister,
Form:
Free verse
In bridled hovel on denuded strand
Tanned damsel loiters on barter stand
Waiting for purloined fealty her title to brand
Festooned in ritual garb, decked with lavish garland
As noble peacock, her fecund colors are fanned
Waiting eligible suitors her utility, virility to scan
Her father a lofty price doth rightly command
To root out pilfering charlatan, worthless brigand
A reputable family with aspirations noble, grand
Bids for the honor of reticent, sheltered hand
Her elder for propriety doth initial offers withstand
Until the esteemed value of his ward family doth understand
A suitable piece of fertile lowland he indignantly demands
In order his tribal status and perpetuity to expand
With gratuitous stipend in token parlance panned
In customary deference, contrite bride accepts husband
Categories:
stipend, daughter, family, family,
Form:
Rhyme
Poets ponder
They cannot squander
A stipend they do not receive
For paid in thought
Their piece of mind
Are words formed and conceived
A tale of sorts
Depiction of life
Even death, if they so choose
Sometimes humor
So often, strife
Sometimes fake and sometimes true
To live on poetry
Getting paid for thoughts
Is not within the poets reach
That’s why they work
Many various jobs
Laborers, professionals and some, they teach
Within their thoughts
Their written words
Lies the life for which they wish
For there in mind
Though pockets bare
The poet knows, within, he’s rich
As thought has value
But not of dollar
Intrinsic is what it shall always be
The poet stands
Not then with riches
But pride in thought, his dignity
Categories:
stipend, life, on work and
Form:
Austrian princess taken from her home,
stripped of everything that she ever known.
Her mother arranged a political marriage,
sending her to France with a horse and carriage
Off to Versailles to meet her destiny,
To take the Dauphin's hand in matrimony.
At the age of nineteen she was crowned queen,
too young to reign, too clueless and naive.
A lonely queen by the name of Antoinette,
also referred to as Madame Deficit.
She spent money careless and haphazardly,
while the people of France were starved and hungry.
Attending masked balls, donning lavish gowns.
Flaunting her way through the Parisian crowds.
Her neck always dripped rare jewels and expensive diamonds.
Posh pastries and champagne consumed with no stipend.
The tax on grain to make bread was outlandish.
The people of France were malnourished and ravenous.
"We are dying from hunger, please help us!" they pleaded.
They felt forsaken, robbed and cheated.
"Let them eat cake!" was the queen's supposed reply.
Perched on her throne with hair ten feet high.
She paid no mind, she kept expending,
Oblivious to what was really happening.
Desperate were the French, so they started a revolution,
holding her prisoner, creating their own constitution.
She was put on trial and the jury found her guilty.
The sentence was death, the maximum penalty.
Some say she was a victim of circumstance.
A political pawn, she never stood a chance.
Her fate was met that day, with the guillotine,
becoming just another tragic figure of history.
Categories:
stipend, history,
Form:
Rhyme
Wake! and see the extent to which you’re still enslaved
enslaved by your own kind who hanker after conditioning platitudes
the clubby comfort of secretly oath-taking power cliques
Wake! O! Asia! Wake!
Remember! Remember Haidar Ali his son Tipu and Akbar
remember Sivaji and Chandra Bose and Kattapomman and Asoka
remember O! remember the one and only Mahatma
Wake India! O! Wake!
Wake! India! Wake! and see how your destitute generations are shunned aside
in infested villages sans drains sans potable water sans hope
see how they’re bound in mantric incantating castiron caste strictures
Wake! O! India! Wake!
No where else in the world are humans so in-humane-ly stratified
what proof have the Brahmins to issue forth from Brahma’s head
who proclaimed them the chosen elite on top of the Indian pile of castes
Wake! O! India! Wake!
Wake! and see how your northern brethren have cast off their spiritual shackles
even if they had abjured the path of the just to yoke their bodies
yet for each child a vaccine a soja-filled stomach to keep slavers away
Wake! O! India! Wake!
Wake! O! India! Wake before it’s too late!
for your own kind are about to enslave you once all over again
and the old master needs hardly despatch troops to proclaim his divine law
Wake! India! Wake!
Wake and watch how your elite ape and espouse the ways of the old master
how for an air-ticket a stipend per diem they would do you in without compunction
how for some lions memberships in select clubs they’d betray your own true kind
Wake! O! Asia! Wake!
Wake! O! Indonesia! Wake and see how the G.N.P. in Singapore
far outweighs that of the former papal Portugal now
how the four fiery Eastern Dragons no more parade in papier maché garb
Wake! Indonesia! Wake!
(Continued in Part One - 3)
Categories:
stipend, inspirational, old, old,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
Let not this fire spread
To the rising smoke & flame put an end
To the oil, tears and blood spilled and shed
To the loss and broken heart that time’ll never mend
Please let not this fire spread
Let not this fire spread
For in defense will each for himself fend
An invite to the chaos, war and famine we so much dread
So let the Great & Mighty for peace stoop and bend
Please let not this fire spread
Let no this fire spread
Vice and violence have become the new trend
Adieu to all our compatriots who fell and bled
Who stood firm for truth and refused to blend
Please let not this fire spread
Let not this fire spread
This tiny sparks may escalate beyond what we intend
In protest we have shunned the hunt for our daily bread
Do not bask slowly in shady silence and pretend
Please let not this fire spread
Let not this fire spread
Ours is a nation known to invest less than we spend
Dissatisfaction and anger color our very eyes red
Address priorities, corruption and frivolities suspend
Please let not this fire spread
Let not this fire spread
Whether you earn billions or less than a stipend
Remember we will lie as we make our bed
This broken wall is for us all to mend
Please let not this fire spread
Let not this fire spread
This is the cry we’ve signed and now send
For the Labors of our Heroes past and dead
We unite as one and our voices we lend
Please let not this fire spread.
Dedicated to all the citizens of the the third world countries experiencing corruption and violence
C’emeka Mbah [Esq]
10-01-2012
Categories:
stipend, courage, dark, forgiveness, pain,
Form:
Epigram
At first sight of first snow colour
Scrapbook memories stir with folk within
Where spirits of love, caring, and sharing were
Whispers of our life we shared, brings wet tears that blur
Of the old farmhouse toasty and warm within-doors
Stipend oak wood was fed into its heart to burn
Fiery amber, yellow, and reds comforting flames would flicker
Crackling, sputtering sound of burning cinders
Wisps of oak mixed with ma’s cooking would journey
Shimmying up its way through the chimney
Outside world had been cloaked in a white glittery sheen
A heartwarming Snowman was always seen
Decked out in his red scarf and top hat beaming
By the front porch greeting passersby
Red Birds perched and rustle the winter evergreens
Conifer and denuded trees would unfurl a story book scene
We would peek out the window when pa honked the horn
On his 1940s green worn out pickup to warn
He was back with a fresh cut noble fir for Christmas morn
11/28/2016
Categories:
stipend, home, imagery, memory, snow,
Form:
Free verse
November is disappearing quickly
autumn colors remain unnoticed by the masses
only thing to look forward to is Thanksgiving,
but after the turkey and pumpkin pie are gobbled up, what is left?
The approaching killer cold of winter, that's what,
sweeping in with the anger of my father
after watching political programs on Sunday
and cursing the TV
This planet is in deep trouble
if our leaders do not heed the screams of today
anguished screams of pain and sorrow heard perennially
only bring despair and hopelessness; Man’s constant companions
Thank God Christmas is approaching soon
Christmas time, the day of the Pacifist
time to reflect and become better humans
to restore the lost sanity in this insane world gone awry
These are stressful times for many people
but there are those who flower in traumatic times;
should they give back to even the playing field?
Greed says "No!" Avarice says “Not in my lifetime”
and the forces of injustice say
“Not unless you get past our guns!”
November is disappearing quickly
but not the wretchedness of people at Christmas time
people still give from their hearts,
but wait anxiously for their year-end stipend;
the New Year bonus to improve their debts
People forever struggling, forever fighting for their dignity,
yet always remaining in the same place feigning progress
slowly creeping forward by the epoch, inch by inch,
within these quickly disappearing days of all seasons
Categories:
stipend, destiny, fate, friendship, november,
Form:
Blank verse
there once was a time
when i had value---
a worthy member
of society---
a respected entity;
but that was
when i was a young twig…
today i am seen as a dying
aged tree---a burden
stifling society---
a worthless stock,
leeching a monthly
survival stipend
intoxicant (SSI):
tomorrow I will try to pawn
my “forty years of service”
watch.
Categories:
stipend, analogy, hurt, irony, life,
Form:
Rhyme
Reflection, relaxation around the bend
Long work week careening to dead end
Hard work's gratuities in rear view portend
A brief sabbatical our inflated value to pretend
Week's rat race with slower pace will amend
All unnecessary pursuits from mind rend
With less tedious chores gladly contend
Forced hand, mental strain not extend
Only pent-up energy limbs will expend
Trivial pursuits, television deserved dividend
A new book, movie, that mind's eye did recommend
A new restaurant our acquiring tastes to commend
Friends, family to hearth's door hungrily descend
Grilled burgers, hot dogs to nominal appetites append
Haute cuisine, to our genteel friends a stipend
At day's end, on creaky, front porch swing addled bodies suspend
With Nature's slower rhythms, contented minds blend
At midnight a stiff tonic still lingering cares to fend
Staggering to bed senses too dulled life to comprehend
Into deep, requiting sleep, missed week's. hours addend
Alarm clock slumbers on and rested bodies wake at ten
To a frothy cappuccino morn's hangover to promptly mend
Categories:
stipend, body,
Form:
Rhyme
London has built another special hospital
made for all Nigerian Presidents and Nobles,
and future Aristocrats who will fight corruption;
Since we die not in this country anymore we rather
stay behind to rule as ancestors of tomorrow
waiting to extort the treasured gin of the masses.
You preacher of change spare us this ear
breaking tale our eardrums are not at home
You went to London yesterday for treatment
today, we cried with empty stomach,
you came back with no voice for your people,
tomorrow, you will kill another dream
of dregs of the society and the masses
would praise you as the Messiah of honesty.
You promised us one good meal a day,
many children are eating thrice in the school!
you promised us another light from the sky,
but we saw a flammable one from the sun!
you promised us one naira to one dollar,
our Naira is now greater than Dollar itself!
you promised us our sisters in one month,
but, we only saw them in your words.
Mother stipend taken to the northern barn,
Father was beheaded in the northern arena,
Sister's house burnt down in chaos,
yet, no story was told to the Sun to hear.
This is the misfortune of my land hopelessness!
"Excuse! When is the change?" Mr P.
Another private sin cracking the naked air,
yet my people laughter echoes beyond
as BBN covered the climaxed atmosphere.
Hyenas, ministers of hope and fund.
I know You will attend to us soon after the grave calls,
I know you will hear our cries at the zone of death,
We are all seated in the corner of the door
Hoping in the day we will raise our voice and ask you:
"How far? Where is the change promised? "
Yours Poetically,
©John Chizoba Vincent.
Categories:
stipend, absence, abuse, africa, anger,
Form:
Political Verse