Best Substandard Poems
Russia's losses have been greater with their Ukrainian invasion
Compared to nine years in Afghanistan, another miscalculation
Many towns and cities in Ukraine are now being taken back
As Ukrainian defenders launch, a devastating counter attack.
At a river in the Donbas region the Russians tried to cross
But were met with fierce resistance and suffered a great loss
An entire Russian battalion with tanks and vehicles too
Have met with a horrific end, as Ukrainian missiles flew.
How many more losses can the cowardly Russians take?
But they'll never admit, that they have made a grave mistake
Their substandard ageing weapons are being put to the test
And are no match for NATO weapons, which are simply the best.
The first war criminal is in the dock, and his trial is underway
For an act of cold blooded murder and with his freedom he'll pay
He'll no doubt serve time in a prison cell ,for a very long time
But surely that is too lenient and he should be hung for his crime.
Russia will never conquer Ukraine and it's a war they won't win
The civilised world is sending a clear message to Vladimar Putin
Russia's botched invasion has now caused NATO to expand
Two more countries will now join the alliance, Sweden and Finland.
Russia is threatening the West and NATO, saying it may go nuclear
It's just sabre rattling on their part and they're trying to instil fear
Even if they launched their missiles, it would invoke article five
The Russian state would cease to exist and they wouldn't survive.
Russia should now do the honourable thing and admit defeat
And for Putin to give the order to his forces, in Ukraine to retreat
Acts of aggression won't be tolerated and the west will not give way
And if you invade a peaceful country, then a high price you will pay.
Written 15th May 2022
Nation’s Damnable Blight
Black slender man, bent twig on the branch of a slave’s family tree,
Planted in white culture during infamous time of our history,
From seed transported in the belly of those infernal slave ships.
Bitter tears flowing from his eyes; angry words pouring from his lips.
Spent by long days in fields under hot skies of one hundred degrees,
Living in substandard shacks: wife and babes bearing winter’s freeze.
Broken panes breach for frigid wind; shabby roofs sieve for cold raindrops,
Family worked from sun up to dark to reap the precious crop.
Truth is, most were prisoners of the system evil men devised.
Many struggling to be free from what politicians camouflaged.
Wisdom overrules such folly and the proverb is most profound;
Holding one down makes holder as much a captive as one held down.
This nation, “land of the brave and free”, held out freedom’s lamp to all,
Went out one ominous night and over “liberty’s lamp” threw a pall.
Had wiser men with hearts of love been ruled by God’s Divine Light,
Black and white would have been spared this great nation’s damnable blight.
The most gifted poets who ever wrote
Occasionally penned gibberish and tripe
Even Coleridge, Wordsworth, and Keats
Sometimes were at a loss for words
In exchange for a royal coin or a token
Valued principles were sometimes broken
Even poets will follow the popular herds
To sit with the noted, the famous elites,
Writing mediocre poems of every stripe
I pluck my own beam, seeing their mote.
written June 16, 2021
Six Hundred Boys
Six hundred boys were singing in the hall
Six hundred boys were singing in the hall
Six hundred boys were singing there
Singing out a secret prayer
Six hundred boys were singing in the hall
Angelic voices bouncing off the walls
Angelic voices bouncing off the walls
Praying, there would be no pain
The masters, they would show restrain
Angelic voices bouncing off the walls
Bend over boy, it’s time you got the rod
Bend over boy, it’s time you got the rod
For sliding down the banister
Failing to call the master SIR
Bend over boy, it’s time you got the rod
Bend over boy, and get six of the best
Bend over boy, and get six of the best
You shouldn’t be a fighting
Substandard is your writing
Bend over boy, and get six of the best
Touch your toes, hear the swish of cane
Think of England as the blows a reign
Stiff upper lip, as you’re hit
Must remember all that ****
Touch your toes, hear the swish of cane
Six hundred boys were singing in the hall
Six hundred boys standing, proud and tall
Six hundred boys were singing there
Singing out their secret prayer
Angelic voices bouncing off the walls
Everyone is searching for answers in the midst of current tragedies
Two unarmed black men and five white cops gunned down mercilessly
Black in Americans are incensed over the slaying of so many black men
But the answer is not the killing of white cops to make it even
Yet there is very little sympathy or justice when a black man is slayed
But if a white cop is shot a social uproar is on full display
Dear America I need you to comprehend it's about the economy
As there's not enough to go around for the majority
The economical and political climate of Jesus's time is just like today
Where the poor and downtrodden are hopeless, harassed and totally dismayed
The system then and the system now continues to perpetrate
A class of low income and disenfranchised who can never formulate
A means to attain any kind of status or develop any wealth
Living in substandard conditions which affects their self worth
Oppressed, depressed and totally distressed
Never to ever experience any form of progress
And until there is progress for all there will be economic strife
And until there is true equality there will be no peace in life
We need to address the ideology that systemically demonizes
And remember America was founded with violence and needs to realize
That African Americans will no longer sit quietly
and see our people be killed everyday
No justice, no peace and we will have our say
We are all children of the most high God
He loves us all and has us in His heart
You are no better than me and I'm no better than you
And the color of our skin doesn't make that less true
Dear America I hope you come to comprehend and understand
That all lives do matter be you a Caucasian or a Black man
Dear America we need to be like Jesus and have true compassion
With a desire to make positive change its time to take action
Dear America I need you to open your eyes and truly see
That there is no more plantation occupancy
Black Americans are now educated and many economically sound
We are no longer your property so stop trying to tear us down
We are more than conquerors we are survivors
and we claim the victory
Its time for you to let go of that slave owner mentality
Berth Write/limerick
There was a young wordsmith from Perth
who when writing would question the worth
of words from the thesaurus
he so hoped would awe us
though placed in a substandard berth
John G. Lawless
6/9/2015
Virginia, June 8, 1789
James Madison penned the constitution
And on December 15, 1791
It became America’s resolution
The first amendment clearly states
No abridging of the freedom to speak
We may assemble peacefully
With either praise or critique
Facts gathered respectfully
Researched and verified
Presented in a competent manner
So that it’s content is clarified
I am sure this is what Madison meant
When he wrote our Bill of Rights
But people with little or no morals
Have taken it’s meaning to new heights
Our legal right is so often abused
By members of this human race
Speaking not the truth, but secret lies
WIth intent to besmirch and abase
Words contrived of anger not fact
Whispered by a substandard class
Are nothing more than calumniation's
Intended to demean and harass
Comments made in hidden fashion
By those that know they’re wrong
Should reevaluate their own self worth
Before dragging others along
This law was established for one and all
But with this privilege comes obligation
To compose your words with integrity
Absent of false representation
So if you have something to say
That is of any importance at all
Speak only the truth loud and clear
While standing proud and tall
If James Madison were here today
Surely his eyes would fill with tears
At how his words were misconstrued
And dismembered over the years
How Unkempt and awful I look when
I forget to shave for weeks
Often have I to put off shaving for months
Once I went unshaved for a year
Either under stress,
or workplace pressure
as a result,
female colleagues
Avoid talking with me
and male
Co-workers advise me to wear a mask
my wife at home
declines a kiss.
Despite these grave repurcussions
I really never like to shave
For weeds on my face
Refuse to surrender to substandard blades
(And good blades are exorbitant and unaffordable)
I fear tetanus every time I cut my skin
For me to decide to shave is as difficult
a decision as deciding by US on carrying air raids on
Iran
I will be there for you
Past night I saw a dream.
Nobody else but me and you.
Far from I was eyeing you,
numb;
secret admirer I was.
I hate distances.
Alas, I am substandard,
not enough to match you.
But in the end,
my dream, my angel, my life-
I will be there for you.
Sonorous, saporous symphonies: strong;
soothingly spirited, sublime sweet songs.
Satisfied sigh, sees salubrious springs;
sharp, sizzling sunburn scream: saltwater stings.
Searing sharp satirists, snarkily snide;
subtle smart sophists show soft, specious side.
Skimpy, salacious shows sell sexy spice;
somber, sad serials scarcely suffice.
Seismic'ly sensitive subsurface screens;
substandard systems: severe shakes scarce seen.
Scaling slick surfaces, snow-scented slides;
slogging sludge swamps, smelling stinky sulfides.
Sans similarities, superimposed;
sequencing syllables, simple supposed.
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for the Begin with a Letter Poetry Contest
sponsored by Angela Tune
written 06/28/2022
an alliterative 'sonnet', with aabb pattern and 10 syllable lines
updated/extended from a shorter, earlier poem
Spoken Words
Hurtful words relayed,
"Dislike"
Inopportune timing,
"Inconvenience"
Poor judgement displayed,
"Disappointment"
Opinions expressed,
"Substandard"
Choices made,
"Deserving"
The Unspoken word ...
"I'm sorry"
Hell has opened its mouth and spit forth Apollyon.
A brutal beast wrapped in a cloak of deceit.
A grandiose idealist with evil intention.
A reaper of racism.
A shameless rapist of intellectually rigid minds.
An artful ruler of schism.
He lives out loud in his want for a reign of vicious fascism.
Overshadowing the union of a pleading Nation.
The world is ablaze with fear of his reigning anarchy.
There are dawdling tongues and lament songs for abdication.
The faithful lift their faces to heaven and pray for intervention.
The liberals protest against social and economical injustice.
A group of withering supplication to the heartless.
His world is anchored on filth and ruthlessness.
Like many, I live my substandard life under a thunderous cloud.
Stiff back, head high, strong resistant, and proud.
copyright 2017
Looking At the Light From The Bottom Of The Lake.
Copyright 2017
March 6, 2017 Looking At the Light From The Bottom Of The Lake
I want a plain substandard coffin,
Wide enough to contain my wishes,
The dreams that danced like fireflies,
Flickering in the night of my soul,
A much more humbled prospect;
A faultless, unadulterated vision,
Where simplicity cradles my last breath,
And the weight of excess melts away,
Like morning mist beneath the sun.
I want a bare but pure funeral,
An ordinary unembellished service,
Where the air is thick with the essence of being,
And the echoes of my laughter linger,
A soft reminder of a life well-lived.
With a short funeral hymn to rest my body,
In the soft embrace of the earth,
Perfect words worded perfectly,
Into the fit painted by another Kline,
A brushstroke of grace on the canvas of grief.
So when the cries of the remnants of Leteng bong,
Resound like a distant thunderstorm,
Goaded by emotions so strong,
They hum a little song,
A melody of memories and whispers,
A gentle lullaby for the weary heart,
A short funeral hymn to rest my body,
In the know of mine,
Form:
It’d been a long day at work
So he sat in the sun
Enjoying the beer he’d earned
The day finally done
Closing his eyes he relaxed
When a persistent peep
Interrupted his dreaming
And he started from sleep
A brown and grey sparrow
Was in a tree nearby
Twittering and fluttering
Darting round in the sky
He magnanimously
Heard the internal call
To build a home for his friend
It would take no time at all
He had wood he could use
Although it had a twist
And it was rotting too
So he added to a list
Along with a tape measure
And extra nails, in case
Also, the saw was rusty
Another thing to replace
An expensive trip later
He had all he required
In fact, he had more -
His card almost expired
Building the box began
He slaved under the sun
Then slapped on some paint
And at last it was done
The bird glanced at the box
And immediately sussed
It was substandard housing
It flew off in disgust
So he was left with the bird box
All wonky and empty
It had cost him $350 -
Bunnings had them for $20
I look around to see the beauty
of a long lost wonderland
that tells many stories.
Like those wild flowers
growing up together.
They survive and fight
like a real warrior.
I look around to see the beauty
of a long lost wonderland
that slowly kills me.
I'm not like those wild flowers
They grow up together.
Far fetched and outdated
Yes I am an inferior!
I look around to see the beauty
of a long lost wonderland
that fools me.
They are the wild flowers
Growing up together.
My substandard mind
has a place called nowhere.
I look around to see the beauty
of a long lost wonderland
that fades me.
I'm not one of the wild flowers
They grow up together.
Sooner or later
I'll fly with the weather.
Lei Strauss 2019