Best Straightest Poems
Watching myself from behind
Chasing words on the front
Dieing on the the rear
But my life is going along
Shots of death inside
Life escaped outside
I wonder where we would have
been
If we chose our paths w/out a
bend
Boring life the straightest road
Midnight holds the great
unknown
My fellow pilgrims on life’s path,
I greet you here today
To share a tale of gratitude
For help along our way.
Our best route is the straightest path,
And narrow from the gate.
But most of us went crashing through
As though we couldn’t wait
To see the things in store for us,
The sights that life would bring,
Not knowing that the track is steep
And dangers wait to sting.
A plethora of vistas wait
For those with eyes to see
But fog can sometimes block our view
As daylight starts to flee.
It’s in these dark and tricky parts
Where angels come to play,
With lanterns born above their gaze
To light the hidden way.
And when we pass beyond their light,
Another’s overlaps,
Until we’ve reached the sun again
And crossed the risky gaps.
These angels are but humble souls;
A neighbor down the road
Who walks their path with righteous steps,
And shoulders others’ load.
God bless these lantern bearers!
Without them I’d be lost
And never find my way back home
Despite the distance crossed.
Christmas of my tenth year brought a four-ten shotgun.
No longer a tag-along kid
Assaulting the deep drifts struggling to keep up,
But a real hunting buddy.
First rule was to memorize the ten commandments of gun safety.
I labored with those rules.
Would we ever really go hunting?
We would go to the sand pits for target practice.
I could shoot good.
Then began lessons to drive.
Not really drive, but just as Daddy showed me,
I would, with exaggerated movements, put the car in forward,
Then reverse, and move it back and forth a few feet.
Stretching my spine to its straightest to see over the wheel,
And my toes to their longest to reach the clutch and break.
The makings of very heady stuff for such a little person to control a great monster
car.
I drove great adventures in those back and forth few feet.
I didn’t really comprehend what he meant
When he told me I might be the only one
To drive for help in case of an accident.
So I learned, and loved the driving too.
It made me more and more my daddy’s boy,
And more and more impatient for the day to come.
The car mastered,
We headed home from the sand pits.
The day was gray and damp and promising snow.
The car heater blasting back the cold.
Cheeks stinging with color,
I would finally, slowly, pull from memory each word of each rule,
Adding a definition in my own ten year old words.
With ear crushed to my bedroom door,
I strained with every fiber to hear Daddy’s muffled tones.
He told Mom he was going hunting in the morning.
Then with breath caught up in lungs so tense they hurt,
Eyes squinted so closed it forced a tear,
Just as if I made it happen, he added,
“I’ll be taking Judy.”
Gay is the straightest word
It takes a stand
Says I am different
But I do not care
I love the one I love
I have a connection
I know how to touch that emotion
Gay is happy
Gay is strange
Gay we fear
Gay is the straightest word
Stands for everything we believe in
Love is love
Love is true
Just the same
A bond
A foundation of family
Everything straight is everything loved between a guy and girl
Gay is a beautiful relationship between two individuals made as one
Standing strong in the face of anger
Taking on religion
Gay has every right
Deserve the same treatment
Recognize it's love
Straight love makes a person gay beyond belief
Life is filled
with ups and downs.
The straightest path
will spin you around.
Your in the black.
Your in the red.
Things stop changing
because your dead.
The hands of time
move on without
your tears of joy
or fears and doubt.
We ride a curve
that's undefined.
A Winter cruel.
A Spring so kind.
Take it in
and push ahead.
The seasons change
no matter our tread.
Stomping through snow drifts
or dancing in rain,
running through sunshine
or steady winds change.
Without a doubt one thing is true,
in skies of black or crystal blue.
On you feet or on your ass,
Gam Zeh Yaavor
THIS TOO SHALL PASS!
- Jeannie Minor
Let the me in you
Let the you in me
Be at the very heart
Be the very heart
Of the us in you
Of the us in me.
Let the me in you
Let the you in me
Mate and melt down
To be the very one
To be the only one
They are meant to be.
Let love
Be the main road
Let love
Be the only road
Between you and me.
Let love
Be the smoothest road
Let love
Be the straightest road
Between you & me.
Africana, Serengeti kaleidoscopes
I painted with Zebra isotopes
My ethnicity abounds from my
afro follicles.
Black fruit with pink middle
My garden cultivates Nubian yokes
forever bound like
Sampson tied to temple pillars
pulling with all my might
there was a time I discredited my blackness
Curls, waves, relaxer and activator
Wanting my soul to glow
Not knowing the image reflected
back from Eden's pool
was God saying Lou is that you?
Confused, thinking my tar tone
big nose and lips were haunting
but I know now it was only God calling,
Blackness awakening
Fist held high, my race
breathed relief “sigh” long drawn out
like an exhale that comes from that tired place
that place where all you can say is "oh, well"
and the inhale brings peace you don't understand
but you feel God placing your clay in order
We are what we've been denied
We are what we've been holding inside
We are the kinky, curly course shaft
the vein for all that is possible
and grows into a beautiful black afro
that thing hands can't get enough of
beautiful by default
Thoughts of ugliness
take a walk.
Blackness, as round as
Erykah Badu's Afro
The circumference of us is this:
we are colored with spiritual isotopes
and what we need most
is the straightest line to love.
Put a part in it
O' how magnificent!
Yes, the boy continued working
as people ran on by -
kicking up the sun-dried sand
which stung his little eye.
The beach was full of castles,
sand castles great and tall.
The artists had great patience as
the crowd was held in awe.
Now some were very stately
and some were built quite lean -
but artists built their castles
where they could be well seen.
Castles grand and beautiful –
some poised to win a place –
detailed touches serious
from top down to the base.
While all the crowd was standing 'round
still watching and amazed -
the judge looked ever critical
with eyebrow often raised.
But then a storm came blowing by
collapsing every wall.
The crowd was stunned – wave after wave
had toppled one and all...
except for one sand castle
which stood above the rest.
It was not much to look at but –
withstood the final test.
Away from wicked, stormy seas
it stood back from the shore.
Though storm had sent its wicked waves
it could have handled more.
Yes, every great sand castle
was crushed and so outdone -
all tested hard with crashing waves
that could not reach this one.
Its walls were not the straightest -
but safely from the sea -
t'was built alone so humbly
and stood there faithfully.
That young boy sat beside it
not really that obsessed –
when someone started yelling, "Hey!
This one beats the rest!”
The crowd all pushed and gathered ‘round -
saw that castle standing.
They stood there so astonished, but
said not anything.
The judge pushed ever closer -
then saw the little boy -
who humbly built his castle where
the waves could not destroy.
He roared loud his announcement,
“This is the perfect size!”
and then he leaned right over and
awarded him First Prize.
But the boy continued working
as people ran on by -
kicking up the sun-dried sand
which stung his little eye.
©2010 louis gander - www.ganderpoems.org
Its almost like I'm looking at myself in the mirror
Just in a different body that is
I mean we say the same things
Blurt the same numbers in games
Hold the same talents
Being highly dramatic in speech and action
Is one of our themes..let thee be pardoned
We speak the same language
Wear coordinating outfits in a row
One of us in the past unintentionally drove away
A chirping bird to the edge of the branch
Because we got him thinking we was lesbians
Sounds like a fib right..well I'm serious
But hey..our bad Andrew
We actually one of those straightest-than-thou people(if the phrase even exists..point is we streit man)
When you have more than 3 people title you twins
Its no more of a coincidence but evidence
Evidence of a rare species
With unstoppable power to be unleashed
We hold the same values..morals and even instincts
Although the accuracy can vary at times
Far from this planet in a different world is the origin
Messedup ville to be specific
With only fears...nonsense..dreams..plans and adventure
As our dear neighbours
Its only one day when the world shall get to see what we are made of
Glad to be reflected in you pumpkin
When someone says something off the wall
We say, “That’s for the birds,” but I wonder,
Do birds have an affinity for the ridiculous
This is something we might carefully ponder.
And who came up with “as the crow flies,”
As though they go the straightest distance
Between two points, and not the tiny sparrow
Which probably lollygags along, for instance.
Do birds have contests between themselves
For who can fly the highest or the faster,
For who can poop on the most automobiles
Oh my, what a freakin’ ponderable disaster!
Sometimes I think the birds get a raw deal
The subject of axioms and thoughtful verses
And when they hurl headlong into a window
I think they are victims of despicable curses.
Written May 22, 2022
trembling t'wards dawn's path today
anorexic pale horizons lay
starved of light, of hope
sans by your leave or come -
I cried, i sighed
'oh.. stay with me
please.. please.. pleas ..
hold my emptiness'
pale yellow sheets became worn grey
presumption rinsed of five o'clock -
an' rain tapped impatient fingers 'pon the glass
of this unlovely lonely world -
frayed, dismayed
ere sun hung kaleidoscopic dun in space
there's a sense of do or die
do we colour thoughts to match
the day.to.day mis-harmony
an' make sweet music in the mind?
methinks there's too much out of focus
out of everything..
'tis all a mystery to me
when praise turns back on favour in the viewer's lens
whilst retribution earns reward
am losing the here and where
and there..
losing the straightest path you've ever drawn
see.. blade sharp it is
unbeautiful though to the nth degree -
'that figures', muses mathematician playing tunes
'pon acoustic ancient abacus -
dementia determined by gnarled digits
ruled by graphics all phrased
by dull already dead modernity
rapt in unsubtle sublimity - smiling..
blind to the tasteless tug of where to leave
before arrival,
day fadea into a pit of anxiety -
a hole in the space of where once lived
a welcome beam to those
destined to crash the rocks
an' finish as I've become
lost in the now and then..
again
Bowing to the East,
a sacred obligation,
comforting
and curious forehead down
to kiss this humble ground
of ego's straight supremacy
Including fat white men
buttocks up
and yintegrity open to receive
To imagine Allah's horniest Tao
amid straightest men
together worshiping Earth's political ground
of cultural becoming
Imaging an invisible economic hand
to massage
message
market
sell and buy and rent,
pimp out and plug in
inspire and respire and expire
speak and listen healthy/pathology signs
and root sensory communication systems
dissociated from ****/oral pleasures
and distended
recessive YangProjectile envy
never prayed
For PatriTheist's great dualdark
win/win transeminal figuration
swelling,
then withdrawing paradise,
like breath
and surf
and in/ex-codependent biformation
Climaxing humane/divine's Allahmin Integrity
without straight male overprivileged impatience
and left brain dominant expression,
extending poly-symphonic power and pleasure
beauty light
multiculturing fertility
reflectively withheld from aggressive foreheads
Gone
To receive sacred manly grace
beyond mere mortal
health-wealthing sensory freedom
for capital-raising
praising
saving authentic co-empathic face
Of Divine cooperation
ecopolitically
polytheistically praying
for bountiful
beautiful protruding co-predation
Whole Open SexSystemic fetal
on man's reclining
enveloped in worshiping knees
made for yintegral male/femate
feral
fertile imagination
Five times per homo-sapient day,
whether he needs it
or wants Allah not
non-dualistic pole through hole
through depolarizing whole
neuro-systemic NonZero binomial
nonviolent SafeZones
For root-systemic health
tipping pointed prime chakra
root communication
in SacRed Hearted resilience
Polyculturing wealth
of metaphoric language choice
through humble worshiping grace face
effaced
Front and back proud male bodies
out and in erased
dominantly disgraced
Misplaced sacred temple
resurrection.
There's some stories old men tell
Just so they can hear themselves
Always hold a certain ring
With their own brand of embellishing
Around the stove in the old country store
If they've told it once, they've told it more
Look you straight in the eye
Before their pants are set on fire
They'll have you staring in belief
That what you see is reality
Look at you with the straightest face
So as not to give themselves away
Listening to all the old men
Toss out the line to reel it back in again
Like a Salty dog on a fishing boat
Keeping the tall tales they tell afloat
There's some stories old men tell
Fooling you as they fool themselves
Always hold a certain ring
With their own brand of embellishing
Thinking back to when my Grandfather owned an old country store where as a kid I'd sit on the uneven worn out wooden floor and listen to all the old men spin their tales. Not sure if he ever sold much but boy we sure had fun!
Why couldn't we be best friends my love
Our hearts afire, once matched like a glove
Yet your eyes are now distant from me
Be best friends my love, why couldn't we
I've been the straightest arrow you know
I loved you from your head to your toe
Lately your love for me is narrow
You know, I've been the straightest arrow
You were the loved one, you played the field
But I got over your ball and healed
Love is blind, I forgave what you done
You played the field, you were the loved one
Do you want to save this sinking ship
Perhaps go into dry dock and grip
Or do you send me off with a wave
This sinking ship, do you want to save
9/21/22
Swap Quatrain Poetry Contest
Sponsor-Emile Pinet
N/A
i believe in rhyme and reason i trust my heart to blind my eyes
the rain can fall in every season the truist love never dies
karma can restore the balance a single tear can start a flood
every one has hidden talents inside the blackest heart lies good
a sainted man will one day stumble every weakness hides a strength
the earth beneath my feet will crumble pure miracles are heaven sent
love belongs to those who feel it pains a burden apon the soul
lifes a dream for fools who steal it the straightest arrow has a goal
in every soul an untold story behind every smile a shroud of tears
i believe in truth theres glory and lies betray us through are fears
live your life the way you see it be yourself do not decieve
purge your soul and you will free it trust your heart and your believe