Best Strategy Poems
As I prepared to come here, my family, relatives, and friends anticipated my arrival. By prepare, I mean that I was in a developmental process that took
nine months. I only knew that I was inside a warm and secure place, and I was never hungry or thirsty. I say secure because my mom loved and cared
for me, protecting me at all cost long before I arrived. And waiting for me to enter the world was such genuine love which knew no gender. You see, these
were the dark days before ultrasound, so my gender wasn't known beforehand.
Nevertheless, they had a name waiting for me whether I would arrive male
or female. I learned in later years that I arrived noon-day Saturday. Love was waiting for my arrival and I am certain that love will be by my side when I die.
It is a love that does not die.
I shall expect to inhale nothing of melancholy and may the flow of sadness be detoured from the fading hours of my life. When death arrives and my spirit is released from this my earthly body, let there be no fear of death in me. Instead, may I be full of joy and smiling if not laughing at the point of my exit.
I tell you without a doubt, I am already endowed with an incomparable anticipation. Even though not endowed with a musical gift, may I sing to the music of the arriving angels as I am ushered to heaven land through those beautiful pearly gates.
As I exit earth in route to my new home, I will feel that same love that ushered me here so many years before. I shall experience the ecstasy of that timeless forever love that never dies.
05142018PS, Contest, A Poem About Death, Broken Wings; Theme: Love does not die; 2P
I present
my strategy:
a dignified tower
constructed entirely
of questionable choices
and one slightly hopeful
thought.
I sit beside it,
perfectly docile,
like a guard dog that
only guards snacks
and even then
not well.
then comes
the facetious
breeze—
that tiny smirk
the universe gives
right before nudging
and the
tower
leans—
leans—
le—
a n d
I
p r e t e n d
t h i s
w a s
m y
p l a n
a l l
a l o n g.
Each day he felt the distance growing,
separating him from where and who
they thought he should want to be.
Though he was adrift in the currents
of prevailing winds, he felt the pull
of strong undertows -- and he didn't know
to which he should acquiesce
or against which he should struggle.
He neither acquiesced nor struggled.
"Didn't he think he should shave, shower
regularly, get a hair cut, lose weight,
shine his shoes, change clothes,
and show up early?
Shouldn't he set an example?"
He wanted to imagine a "but"
to refute apparent logic,
could do no better than to scribble
description which drifted across
the pad, influenced by other
undertows. He tried to last, having
once believed in the universal
flux, but could no longer. Finally,
he avoided mirrors and others'
eyes, kept to the rooms' darker
corners, and no longer engaged
in conversation -- not even with himself.
The lions’ wait
Seals the fate of
A late straggler
Quickly surround
Without sound they
Expound teamwork
Bellies content
Hunger spent, the
Pride went to sleep
Once there was a dame called Anne “the bane”
Her trick “God-promise .My words are true & sane”
“Sam and Bern are prophets.God-promise!”
“my comprehension is the truth.God-promise!”
Bloody are we in “stone age” or “iron age” dame?
Once there was a dame called Pella”the Ma’am”
Courtesy her strategy to get things done. Great dame!
Ma’am today you are so cute!
Ma’am you got a date with bond right!
Bloody this is a sure fire strategy for dames!
=====================================
Can any here recall my name?
Intoned by plenty years ago,
today I'd say but for a game
they play, not many here may know!
But here I stand and there you sit
and since we're comrades, more or less,
let's have a bit of fun with it!
What hints I give may help you guess...
I, with my face of stone, a lock
and walls by iron fortified,
encase His Grace in solid rock
while altercate takes place outside
My brother's straight across from me,
identical in width and length.
Twin towers, we wait silently,
each building on the others strength
I bide my time and mind the wall
that rises from the palace banks,
though sabres chime and soldiers fall
to foe that slowly climb the ranks
Still, I must wait to join the show
'til Bishop, Knight and gallant Pawn
have made a kill or died below
and viscera spills on the lawn
As yet, these casualties of war
stay in our thoughts and they are missed
but let us not forget two more,
who to this very day exist
While we salute remembered men,
the same, in suit, is also due
to distant members of my kin,
who I'll now introduce to you...
Mine uncle and his shining spouse,
fine experts in their elements,
Sir Windmill and the Lanternhouse.
I'll next define their relevance:
When rivers flow and wind doth blow
and each do meet the mighty Mill,
men who eat grain (opposed to crow!)
bestow defeat upon the hill
And as for she who light the sea,
true monolith illuminate!
Thee shine to shore mine enemy,
to be defined before my gate
Respect much paid to lance and shield,
today we play at gentlemen
but say perchance we meet afield...
none may expect such fancy then!
Nay, back to front or port to right,
I'll stay the course until I'm took
or paid in trade to black or white...
For I'm the force they call the ROOK!
=====================================
Once there was a man called Kingston lovemad
to get things his way executes a strategy. no mad!
fags chain, bangs table, wall
and what not! Shouts all,
bloody this “mad man strategy” often yields. Love mad!
Winning Strategy
Dr. James E. Martin
©March, 2014
What does it take to win?
When does winning begin?
From the start it must start
With a committed heart
And see it through to the end!
A gutted mirror invents a tangled human scheme
My back might be found crooked from the jabber,
A puddling curb tried throwing the twisted dream
None bound for the scope spawned by a blunder.
My back might be found crooked from the jabber
Singing in heaven embeds tune of moral goodwill,
None bound for the scope spawned by a blunder
After a few years, you'd be ditched with side-will.
Singing in heaven embeds tune of moral goodwill
Straying guilt whetting shock and clear dismay
After a few years, you'd be ditched with side-will
The ridiculous concept of a fantasy hiding way.
Straying guilt whetting shock and clear dismay
The abstraction of waning grace is a little hazy
The ridiculous concept of a fantasy hiding way,
Tons of metal swords shattered by bared facility.
The abstraction of waning grace is a little hazy
A puddling curb tried throwing the twisted dream
Tons of metal swords shattered by bared facility
A gutted mirror invents a tangled human scheme.
Written: May 07, 2022
King darius escaped to save his a-s
Smart move smart decision low pitch bass
There is no need to be nice
Think again think twice and think thrice
What lesson do we learn?
Run escape take you turn..
It was a boomerang love affair
of "once upon a midnight dreary"
preponderances mid ecstasy & woe
obliterating affection's sensibilities,
strategic mid tomorrow's yesterdays
[nectar'd apricot marmalade honey
neath sizzling hot habanero spices]
doused with tears betwixt fiery tumult
and indescribable embraced moments
clutching onto daunting fairy tales of
happily afters & no return adaptations
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
of lioness queen's jungle and
overbearing laughing hyenas
Poe - 'one upon a midnight dreary'
When you pause and ask me "Why?"
You just want to change my mind
It's a tactic of your kind
Hunters hiding in a blind
Lament to cruise control..
Once in a while you see the natural
not a thief taking a spot to mental morph
their workboots into bare feet.
Transparency in their statutes,no strategies to tie their beliefs to thoughts and actions mimicking make believe.
the truth they feel they need
Constructing fences and walls to hide a plunder of lazy conspiracies
Everyday Everyday hiding everyday buckets of shrunking heads
A giant of warfare bullying, Freedom's a monster
who directs their belief into this is how you should be, but you cant look at me
because I hide behind the white walls of ice formed cement,my torn Jean's lament
Broken fears ,whispered ears
will never find a place to celebrate
Broken hearts, broken pockets
City conspiring no way to win
searching the dead for souls to win over
A giant, a good death,a soul trap
Theres just off and on
I
Practising something
Winning takes thinking
Like the world
Values curtailed, curled
II
Add anonymity
Online carefree community
Some will begin games
Not play; hope you go away
Courtesy questioned; charged with abandonment
Social contract corrected less fast (for content)
III
We play games
For variety, virtual community
Go everywhere, in His Peace, Shalom
Try always, to live your values, decorum
Yet, what shall one do? Use BLOCK!
ONLINE, we are unlikely to take stock
So play to see, as guest, good sport
Be Wise, but more, Be A Good Sport. The social - media editors overdo little problems ... I understand the tough balancing act. Just had these thoughts 1-2 years ago, when I played almost daily (CandyCrush & online chess).