Best Stipulate Poems


Premium Member My Secret Identity

The life I lead is a pretty simple one,
Normal, like the rest of the human lot;
I toil, I play, I sleep, I maintain myself,
I smile, I cry, I handle gun shots, 
Swallow the punches in the face, why, I even
Pretend that I am an eternally young and strong
War Queen, enjoying my reign in a kingdom
Surrounded on all sides by the protection proffered to me
By the glass bulb of a clear snow globe!

But the life I lead is not my real one, 
The real one is what I would call my secret life,
My secret identity, that which I have to hide,
As I wish not to end up in pieces, merely for being
Stranded in a world in which I belong not!

Pray, I am a Goddess, a very powerful one with enough
Abilities as to raise the seas of the world into havoc
At one go and to alter the days and the nights
Merely because I wish to play with my God, the ruler
Of that treasured spot that shelters my sensitivity and which
Is called ‘Heart’
I am on Earth simply because I remain, deep down, a woman,
And like all the women of Earth, I have suffered through the pains
Of Love, when for some reason or another,
Love morphed, from being a dark red crystal flower
To being a thorny cactus which would hurt me
Each time I felt like holding it close to me in an embrace!
Yes, I came to Earth accidentally, out of a moment of tantrum
I came to live a life a misery;
By having a body, which would age, fall prey to diseases, decay
And fall into a cycle of Earth’s existence
Which stipulate that my actions would have reactions
Which would then bind me to another set of experiences,
Which I would live, of course, for nothing, as the aim of them all
Would simply be governed by a subtle power called Death!

Yes, I am a Goddess and I live anonymously as a human,
A human so blinded and duty centered that my other name
Is none other that Sisyphus!
I am a Goddess and my misery shall end the day
My God shall hand out his hand to me, not only to save me
But also to prove of His love to me!

Premium Member Wise Beyond Your Years

... you really think so?
I'm flattered to say the least,
but I honestly know not
where these words originate.
Do you think inside my squishy brain
is where they congregate?
I like to think of it like an office building
where the files always fluctuate.
Sure would suck if aliens landed,
skipping the "we come in peace" spiel
and just went straight to "ANNIHILATE!".
Knew I should have martian-proofed it
when I had the chance -
why must I always procrastinate?
But perhaps I'm taking in too many
possibilities here
(like eyes when they dilate).
Are you getting tired of this rhyme yet?
Do you wish to take time to stipulate?
Consider I did you a favor
not using big friggin' words
like amalgamate.
Never say never, right?
Hope by reading this nonsense
you're not running late.
I should know better
to realize you might well have
"A very important date".
But don't mind me I'll just by typing away
with ridiculous musings.
It is my fate!
Pity not where I am
at the present state.
I'm having oodles of fun
in this land I helped create.
My deepest apologies
if it looks to you like I hibernate.
Feel free to come by anytime,
for you see, beyond this point,
there is no gate.
But for now I really must be going!
For this is about the time...

... where my imagination starts to deflate.



NOTE: Inspired by Richard Lamoureux's comment on my poem, A Kick in the Stones.

Premium Member One Holy Mess

The human race speaks of a faraway place called heaven
no doubt there, they’ll breathe easy knowing some still care,
yet to flee from incarnation’s mask, anxious tears so many have to share,
for while we have but a limited time here,
hunger for and pay homage to that eminent gig in the sky,
if only to await one’s promise after a lifetime able to turn
to glance upon the earth, the colour clear, tainted with the blood
of those whom in his name die.
Is it written that evil would survive in many forms
power to wield when humanity spawned
to become a collection of wretched emotions here in the great “Bee Hive”
for eons of tears after creation dawned?
From the outset irrefutable impressionists hold the reigns
dwell in the surge of adrenalin’s rush,
an awareness to inflict one’s pain
with logic; simple minds cannot crush!
They called it religion in the name of; 
coerced to sacrifice, manipulate,
a book of instructions a creed thereof
to enhance their powers, stipulate.
The human race, each an individual
yet herds of sheep reliant upon the Ram,
the weakest tossed aside, residual
till nurtured re-educated those the Lamb.
There are many in his name soil their reputation
unjustifiable actions condoned by a hierarchy of hidden agendas,
license to continue with savage mutation
to aid the evil despot, lord of the greatest of pretenders.
Soon this holy mess an ant’s nest deaden
although some the skill to explore the stars,
man will action his very own Armageddon
only to carry on with the emotional scars!

© Harry J Horsman 2016


Teachers Are Not the Best Judges

 DEDICATED TO ANDREA DIETRICH AND PAUL CALLUS WHO SEEM TO THINK BY CORRECTING PUPILS PAPERS IS THE SAME AS JUDGING PS CONTESTS.


They teach
They preach
They bloody screech.

Teachers coach
The weak they approach
To their weakness they encroach.

They advise
For some they compromise
Favourites are prioritize.

They manipulate
Teachers to their innocents stipulate
If opposed they intimidate.

Teachers I was one and did the same
I saw beyond and felt the shame
We all looked ahead the pupil’s exam.

Transactions Between You and I

You
You give me laughter
After you teach me how to be a liar
You give me truth
After you remove my fantasy factor
You give me desire
After you stipulate no ever after
You give me hope
After you think I’ve taken back my desire
You give me lies
After you realize I am stronger

ME
I give you laughter
Because you were my desire
I give you compassion
Because you were deserving
I give you a future
Because your views were limited
I give you truth
Because you needed it
I give you strength
Because you are so brilliant
I give you love
There was no reason

TF
© Ale A A  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Valiant Rhetoric

Iridescence
      intermingle
         explicate
            wriggle
               
& inspire  
                  placidity
            immaculate 
       prearrange
  dedicate

& appreciate

      accolade
          amplify
              achieve
                 affection
&bravery

                 intrepid
            explore
       galvanize 
   promise

& specify

   symbiosis
      relationship
         cooperation
            stipulate
& venture

             shrewd
          resourcefulness
       recommendation
   unpredictable

& corroboration

    Obdurate
        resist
           persuade
                  endure

&reincarnate

                  acquiesce
            argue
      comply
    quiet

& blissful

    tremendous 
       tempting
          teamwork
              tantalizing

&bespoke

              conundrum
        intricate
     wrestle
   to nurture
solemnity

Written: March 24, 2023

1st place contest winner 

A Brian Strand Premiere No 1202 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Beauty Queen Is Still Looking

Once upon a time a well-stacked, beautiful Playmate
One featured in Hefner’s magazine, which was first rate
bought herself a marvelous Hollywood estate
With future proceeds she hoped to create.

This was way back in the day, about seventy-eight.
This girl had big boobs, pretty eyes and was not overweight.
I need to clearly voice this to my readers to demonstrate
She had all the equipment to make a fine date.

She went out on sixty thousand adventures, all a first date.
She thought it was because each guy was a cheapskate.
She always ordered extra dinners to go for at least eight.
This selfishness on her part, kind of sealed her fate.

She had all the equipment, she was good-looking bait.
But on this fact the male’s mothers would usually fixate.
She is probably out for your money, they would demonstrate.
Her spending habits are totally clear, they would stipulate.

This Playmate of the Month remained single as life would dictate.
She never understood how her weirdness sealed her fate.
At age 70 she has not gained any beauty or lost any weight.
But she is still dating in hopes of finding a forever after mate.

Mince Meat Pie No Lie

Mince Meat Pie No Lie

Oh great! Found that some guy forgot to stipulate
How he knows people hate to wait or set a date
Important enough and already been accentuated
And, would you believe, destroyed, defecated and then defalcated.

Then you had arrived at the problem that could possibly be
While she really scarred the heck out of you as well as me
It happened to be Hillary wearing a wise old owl disguise
Found in boxes bond for Bombay much to my surprise.

She had a not only great idea but one which was ingenious
Like and old oscillating owl had a face being the meanest
And after be shown and while looking at it day by day
Someone started to toot and trump song saying stay away (Not no way Jose'.)

Next thing we found was owls only fly in a single formidable formation
Not knowing if it was done out of inspiration or desolate desperation
After having been found flying over Flint looking for water to be drinking
That is when this itty bitty troubled owl really started to thinking.

Water color seemed so cruddy and glass stood singular and all alone
On shelf while many makeshift people would moan and groan
Which is when Hillary had come up with another idea being so wild
What if we were to begin conducting an experiment of each child.

On their each table several glasses of water they would start to place
To see that when each one would drink who made strangest, oddest face
Then again oddly enough researchers data they did determine to decipher
Answers to questions and observations children had handed over to offer.

Now why would any maniac or moron ever try to seem and become so mean
Who had abused their own bodies and no longer were a health food fiend 
Then with their own selves, education and experience became entranced
At abundance of cruddy urine color running down each poor baby's pants.

Franticly and finally many ill-advised answers they had come across
What was decided is that all of it and whole thing had created a lost cause
And after many words were thought of, brought together and they would mince
Those who have minds mixing with their water will meet with lower intelligence.

James Thesarious Hilarious Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet

Like everything else of course there always has to be a catch
Prerequisite for reading this is imagination being able to stretch.
© James Horn  Create an image from this poem.

A Man Uproar

The man when born
and die,
In ruefully and
spiritless sigh,
And in middle of his
youth, he uproar,
Again and again
loath, with roar,
In this fiery
arrogant ways he
astonish,
His vitality and
humanity of mannish,
In this mid of
couple years he
repercussion,
And made a blast of
hatred ness with
emotion,
To show off his
power he transgress,
Make all petite
things mess,
A resplendent
landscape to fresh
foaming stream,
Who smile before the
lightening sun with
gleam,
And the choking air
with fluttering
birds,
Ain’t in peace and
comfort of his
girds,
The same activities
at the hoar,
As the senile men
try to soar,
Ho! Don’t venture
o’er this stake
race,
You shall refrain by
this base,
And to abide by this
fruitless grow,
Will ruin your all
speculation and
flow,
So a man, decide
where to go,
To live like a
nobility glow,
Or to live in the
rapacious magnitude,
And to die in thirst
of malicious
attitude,
A man with mob but
in solitude,
Or a man with no
fame but aim,
Remember, the world
is shadowy game,
What you sow, reap
the same
Let we get over this
line of livelihood,
And stipulate the
theme of
brotherhood.

M Shahid Hussain
Chouhdry ©

Murphy and His Law

Murphy and His Law

Murphy’s Law, one might recall
expressed in simplest form-
states if failure is possible to befall-
it eventually will and that’s the norm.

I have personally tested Murphy’s Law-
so to this much I can stipulate-
it has to be responsible for all,
more so even than simply fate.

For me it seems change is inevitable-
except from a vending machine-
and either/or choices turn out regrettable-
although the odds to be right are even. 

As for Murphy’s Law I can see no reason
why it was passed or is even needed-
so I am thinking maybe to start a petition-
demanding the damned thing be repealed.

Premium Member How Long Is Forever

He was destined to live in this castle for all of eternity 
with all the cobwebs and ghosts and things of ambiguous energy 
Although death did not become him  the contract did stipulate 
that unless another individual died in one of these old cavernous
rooms, he was to remain between the walls of Charleville castle 
forever and a day...

Jordan madly typed away at his typewriter 
it was to be a letter of suicide left behind 
he wanted to go home he wasn't a fighter 
if he had to live one more day he'd go blind  

Then the doorbell rang and he opened it, ensconced in hope 
she shot a furtive glance towards the room then queried,   
"how many rooms does this castle own ?" 
"a thousand " he replied with a croak in his voice  
unleashing centuries of forever in one single bound;
 
He invited her into the castle then gave her a nebulous drink 
"how would you like to live forever?" he asked 
through drug induced eyes replied,   
"well, how long is forever?" 
"Sometimes just one second," he replied 
then while he fanned her face just so, 
she turned her lovely neck and died.


February 3, 2020

Premium Member All In It Together

O the chancellor of the exchequer
Seems to think that we’re all Boris Becker
And under the bed of which little is said
A big bag of cash and there’s more in the shed

Does he live on a different planet
Is his brain made of marble or granite
He’s not said it yet, but it’s a sure bet
He’ll follow the lead of Marie Antoinette

If the price of our milk is insane
He’ll say we should all drink champagne
He’ll then stipulate, for sanity’s sake, 
If bread’s too expensive, why don’t we eat cake

I phoned him and told him we’ll be skint forever
And then he said this, which he thought was quite clever
We could help ourselves out by quite an amount
And take some cash from our Mumbai bank account

Premium Member Not Giving Power Away

One cooperative way to take back disempowering choices
is to teach and mentor our young
not to give empowerment
to disempowering plutocrats,
anti-democratic Win-Lose supremacists,
when casting ballots
and when choosing whom to invest in
and whom to listen to
and whom to read
and whom to invite
into our cooperatively-owned,
non-violent,
mediating communication places.

Asserting mutually-held rights
to speak your healthy
or unhealthy
mind,
usually a dipolar hybrid of healthy and unhealthy consciousness
of creative and decomposing power analysis,
experience,
ego-reflection and eco-deflection,
does not further stipulate
investigative journalists
and actively healthy children
are required to hold oppressive microphones
while NegativEnergy moves from one ageist,
sexist,
racist,
homophobic,
xenophobic remark
toward its inevitable egocentric last LoseLose gasp.

It seems awkward
and embarrassing
to listen to,
much more speak,
such ignorance
given full disenculturing volume,
space,
listening sit-spot place
inside millions of health-vocational outdoor daytime voices
and nighttime terror lives.

One cooperative way to hold empowerment
is to invest only in PositivEnergy,
rather than NegativEnergy anti-democratic,
reinvest in goodfaith-investors,
healthy trust co-operators.

If the medium
is at least part of the message,
then the lack of media,
absence of listening,
is at least part of non-violent communication
to free PositivEnergy good faith speech
restoring health with cooperative all.

Premium Member Back Seat Driver

Back Seat Driver

Up front and hidden from the rear view mirror my rational emotion takes
                   a back seat from suggestions of behind when looking forward and beyond

Built in a chip on the hard shoulder of the pathway calls out ‘be careful slow
                    speed up’ ‘break do not break’ ‘watch the police’ internalised surveillance

Highway signs and low way warnings ever so smoothly stipulate escape
                      from chaos lost bearings baring truths exposed and rolling forward past

The course lobbies concourse’s constrictions of wide open spaces traffic jams
                               congestion when all I wish is move ahead but the the rat race rat
Mental rodents on the road gnaw through the fabric of my mind where is
                     no want for stabbings in the back when need surpasses constant chatter

My pilot light on auto - forward seeks transmission manually and steady step by step
               progression roundabout traffic islands four way stops diversions parking lots

I suppose with all that panoply of trappings I do not benefit from a back seat remote
             controlling driver when all I need is lean back enjoy and contemplate the ride


24th November 2016

The Great Escape

> Do any of you ever enter competitions?  I must confess I am tempted to enter the occasional Internet one.  The following poem was entered into one which expressed  the title The Great Escape, it did not stipulate any particular escape.

The Great Escape

Calm serene where!

I close my eyes a moment.
To escape in sleep you see.
The turmoil of this world.
Which really upsets me.

So off to dream world I do go.
I wander everywhere and so.
I find peace, tranquility and calm.
When nought, can cause me any harm.

I go nowhere, not from choice.
No picture, scene, or someone's voice.
Just float about, calm and serene.
Forget the TV carnage I've seen.

There is no news, where I harry now.
Fields are green, have sheep and cows.
Grazing on the lush green grass.
I hope this dream will always last. 

Alas, I wake, where did I go?
To where it was so peaceful.
So I might visit there again.
And get away, from life's real pain.

I did not really win. Although it was chosen to be inserted in someone else's book. For an financial advance for my copy if you know what I mean.  I did place this In my first book Poems. Some happy, some sad, some to make you glad , then the  poem had commas and punctuation marks all in the wrong places. My daughter, bless, still thinks they still are. So Book 6 will be credited to her, if I can fit it in somewhere. lol (TmA)<

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