Best Supervised Poems
Do you know, my dearest friend that:
The physical and the metaphysical world are divided by a membrane only, and that they are interconnected and interdependent?
That we, who live on the physical plane, are supervised by those entities residing on the metaphysical plane?
That we and they both work for the implementation of our Lord's divine plan: the maintenance of harmony in life?
That the ideas which come to our mind are not our ideas but they are simply heaven's instructions to us, inspired by God, that we should obey?
That each thought, word, and deed of ours must aim at the universal good and not at our interest?
That whatever we think, say or do, doesn't go unnoticed but is recorded by heaven and follows our soul wherever it goes?
That the paramount command we ought to follow is to love one another?
That whoever loves his friend as loves himself, loves God and God loves him?
If you do not ignore these truths, my friend, then a blessed soul you would be here and in the hereafter!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
06 December 2021
* I would like to thank all my friends who support me with their comments.
With them, I share the honor of POTD
I also would like to thank the officials of PoetrySoup who thought my humble poem deserved the honor.
Categories:
supervised, blessing, god, heaven, love,
Form:
Free verse
I am s p a c e …
… and I owe indeed my existence from God
The Author of my breadth, depth, and height ---
With the Lord’s abundance…
I am bestowed with worthy meanings:
earthly residence, glorious habitation, celestial abode ---
Along the Almighty’s omnipotence…
my value becomes costly with ascribed phrases as
green pasture, even land flowing with milk and honey ---
Around the Saviour’s omnipresence…
emptiness can never creep in, while He vanquishes void
filling me with His wondrous magnificence ---
Upon the declaration of the supreme Sovereign…
I am under perfect control, supervised by His wisdom
cognizant that He “sitteth upon the circle of the earth”* ---
Midst the Master’s tender mercy and gracious miracles…
I am optimized with functional maximization
while with faith**, utilizers of my offers, trust God in their stewardship ---
While in the Providence timetable…
my moments are significant, especially when urgency attacks
via the impact of every hour, day and year I demand ---
I thank and praise my MAKER for enabling my being and becoming occupied…
Yes, I am s p a c e
Devoid of the CREATOR, I am n o t h i n g***.
*Isaiah 40:22 It is he that sitteth upon the circle of the earth, and the inhabitants thereof are as grasshoppers; that stretcheth out the heavens as a curtain, and spreadeth them out as a tent to dwell in.
** Hebrews 11:3 Through faith we understand that the worlds were framed by the word of God, so that things which are seen were not made of things which do appear.
***Job 26:7 He stretcheth out the north over the empty place, and hangeth the earth upon nothing.
January 16, 2021
1st place, "Musings on Space" Premier Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Unseeking Seeker; judged on 1/17/2021.
Categories:
supervised, appreciation, christian, environment, faith,
Form:
Personification
Only when,
The edifice of happiness,
Is:
Conceived,
Designed,
Built
And
Maintained
By
Wisdom
And
Supervised by unselfishness
Could
Withstand the test of time!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
19 October 2015
Categories:
supervised, happiness, time, wisdom,
Form:
Epigram
Poodle... A puff on the left
A puff on the right
And always dyed white
The Nest... Teased like a stampede
That's been unleashed
The look of an endangered beast
Shaved Art... Some with faces, some with decorations
Are they going forward or behind
I hope they are supervised
Mohawk... Oh my what a shock
Some are four feet high and unbending
If you don't duck you'll be crying
Half Of Hair... One side bald the other side long
What a dingdong
It's just all wrong
So this is my opinion, sorry if I offend you!
1/27/15 T Reams
Categories:
supervised, fashion, funny, hair, hilarious,
Form:
Harambe, he enjoyed his life,
had nothing much to do.
He sat around and ate all day
in the Cincinnati Zoo.
Born in Texas in ninety-nine,
to Ohio then he went.
He only lived there sixteen months,
before his life was spent.
He was a massive silver back,
largest gorillas known.
He led and supervised his troop
like a king upon a throne.
Was destined to become a dad
when he had grown some more.
Mara and Chewie were his girls;
both of them he did adore.
One day there was a little boy,
who tried to get quite near.
He fell into Harambe's cage
and the folks began to fear.
He tried to save the boy that day.
Confused with all the din,
perhaps he was somewhat too rough
and thought that the boy was kin.
That little boy was standing there
when they shot Harambe dead.
He knew not what was happening,
he was not feeling dread.
The moral of this sad, sad tale
is don’t get in a cage,
neither man nor "savage" beast,
you'll both feel mankind's rage.
Categories:
supervised, animal, bereavement, death of
Form:
Rhyme
I’m all out for In, Boys, I’m all out for In
I’ll not consign dear Europe to the bonfire or the bin
We’ve fought too many flippin’ wars to call this thing a day
And isn’t such division just a little bit passé?
We’re a tiny little island, all surrounded by the sea
And the days of the Empire are consigned to history
Let’s not be cast adrift, Boys, in some Captain Pugwash boat
Vote to stay in Europe, Boys, it won’t dry up the moat
What say you? Immigration? What, the white ones or the black?
Which ones, which precisely, are you wanting to send back?
The ones who work for naff all cash, in dirt and sweat and mud?
Or the ones who ran from ISIS just to save their children’s blood?
What say you? Benefits? Well now, you’d best look in to that
It isn’t quite that easy for them all to get a flat
There’s rules to do with public funds, and residence as well
And doesn’t all that tax evasion leave a nasty smell?
And what about Intelligence, and Military Alliance
Employment, the Economy, and Human Rights compliance?
What will happen if we leave, well, lovely Boys, it won’t be pretty
There’ll be rhetoric on rhetoric, committee on committee
And all of flippin’ Europe will be looking down its nose
“You’re not with us, you’re against us” will be how the anthem goes
And Boris, hey don’t start me off, don’t listen to the bloke
Unless you went to Eton you’re the punchline of his joke
“More Bolly, Boris?” “Do you know, I don’t mind if I do
Oh dear, I fear I’ve drunk the lot, and now there’s none for you”
And Dave isn’t much better, though he’s talking far more sense
Hey, even Ms Claire Perry’s on the right side of the fence
And what about the Berlin Wall, the night that it came down
You could hear the cheers from Germany from old Devizes Town
We all thought that was progress, some sure sign of evolution
How can leaving Europe be a sensible solution?
And would you trust the Government to sell you a used car?
I’d rather have them supervised by Europe, thank you, ta
So, Votey McVote Face, it’s all down to you
I’m all out for In, Boys, and I hope that you are too
© Gail Foster 2016
Categories:
supervised, community, confusion, destiny, england,
Form:
Couplet
They call me Mr. Quick Fix.
I’m everywhere, in every school.
Over 400,000 of me in classrooms across the country.
Yet there’s minimal data on my effectiveness.
For this reason, among others, some call me Mr. Quagmire.
Here I am, the “least qualified, lowest paid” providing the “bulk of instruction.”
On top of that, I am rarely supervised, barely trained, and minimally vetted
While at the same time considered the “first, primary, and…only support response” for the student .
My student’s father calls me Mr. Godsend.
Distrusting of the school staff, I am his child’s protector
From any negative judgement bestowed upon the child by peer or adult.
The direct pipeline of communication often goes through me,
Not the head teacher, who sometimes refers to me as Mr. Why Didn’t You Tell Us That Earlier?
Some even call me Mr. Anything. Or Mr. Wing-It.
One day I may work with small groups beyond my assigned student.
Other days I’m creating lesson plans with no oversight.
I try not to question these practices, or lack of policy and procedures with regards to my role.
Everyday is a bit of chaos, and I’m just trying to make it a doable day like everyone else,
Helping wherever I can, however I can.
That’s my job, right? Right?
Categories:
supervised, education,
Form:
Free verse
I got me a Cadillac.
That's one of my favorite luxury cars.
I'm riding around the hood,
Feeling good like a Southernplayalistic,
Ghetto superstar,driving distances
Very far, looking like a boss,
Who suffered some loss,
More glamorous than Boss Hogg,
Who supervised Rosco P.T. Coltrane,
Who focused and hated them Duke Boys,
Because they made a lot of noise.
Yes my Cadillac makes much noise,
Southernplayalistic sounds scream,
From the speakers and I ain't hating,
On nobody. I'm simply glad to meet you.
I've come a long way baby like Virginia Slims,
And I'm most definitely in it to win in my Cadillac car.
How about you do you wanna ride?
Come on in and sit on the passengers side.
1-28-11
Categories:
supervised, life
Form:
Rhyme
AHHH MAN…..
Can’t be tough anymore
…gotta be soft and cuddly
……..but not afraid of spiders or mice.
Can’t talk loud anymore
…you’ll be called angry, or intimidating
……..thus making you a bully.
Can’t strive to be the best
……must be cognizant of the self esteem of others
…………while placating the PC police.
Must know how to jiggle toilet bowl handle
…..after reattaching chain fished from tank
……….SUPERVISED HAND WASHING A REQUIREMENT
Must know how to sort laundry
….NO COLORS in with the whites
……….pink sox and undies are a NO-NO.
Must learn to be a SILENT shoulder
…..to cry on --- to lean on
……….knowing that you can’t fix it.
Will need to access a feminine side
…..change a diaper -- wash a dish
……….hold a “bag” in plain sight.
Will need the strength of ten
….to contain the love you feel
…..and more – to hold the love you receive.
Must be sure enough in you own sexuality
…..to allow a granddaughter to put bows in your hair
………while you’ve still got some left.
Must be MAN enough to be a MAN
…..to love without fear yet with conviction
……….to accept same –- without betrayal.
John G. Lawless
7/16/2015
submitted to – Men Only #2 – Poetry contest
sponsor – Kelly Deschler
Categories:
supervised, men,
Form:
Free verse
“The man at number ten's mowing his lawn!”
“Get off your fat backside and go do ours!”,
she nagged, so off he went, looking forlorn,
she supervised him,in between her glowers.
“The man at number ten's painting his fence!
You said you'd do ours three years back, you know!
A simple job, that needs no common sense,
now get the paint and roller- off you go!”
Each passing day the wife found more to do,
the man at number ten had lit the fire,
the list of jobs for hubby to go through
increased, as did his frustration and ire.
Still, things at home have been better since when
he went and shot the man at number ten.
Categories:
supervised, humor, marriage,
Form:
Sonnet
We met again this time the salvation army
on Lake Michigan the four children and I
with child were homeless after a horrid
experience when all of a sudden standing
before me the German man seeking my help
investigating the ultimate betrayal I suppose
corruption the war on weapons drugs
at it's complete finest my job consisted
of wearing wires connected to my womb
with an odd attachment that was placed
in my pockets I entered the dwellings
and purchased weapons drugs ammunition
I wondered if the fbi could hear
the baby heart beat rather they could
actually tell the difference between
mine and the fetus my hands were
sweating as we approached the unseemly
hostage situations I felt as if we were
a family fbi supervisor Heimbach supervised
the operation before leaving taking my children
to the beach singing as if this day was of
sheer peace odd notions arose beneath
a sullen sphere of fight flight I simply
swallowed fear unable to breathe until
20 years later imagine that on my
government job on an Airforce base
time shattered into I was back there
panting shaking eyes wide concerned
troops gathered asking my unit my division
was I special opt Delta force Charlie company
was I from desert storm which war did I serve
I was just a mom standing before me medic
embracing me come back mother come back
holding my chest heart pounding like thunder
slowly responding with great wonder and toil
this war on weapons drugs on American soil
Categories:
supervised, allah, remember, writing,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
I wish I may, I wish I might,
make a wish on my
wishing tree tonight.
A child’s rhyme, to keep close, my sounds.
Mental battles fought.........many days
Some times are “ups” but mostly “Down’s”
This rhyme I clutch to me and hold so dear
My wishing tree standing close.... always there
giving presence of thought, holding back fear.
What does it look like...this tree of mine?
I don’t know, I can’t quite see its shape.
Warm and fuzzy? Loving? Color blind?
A long time ago my Mother gave it to me.
I’m gone. I mean now I’m truly happy.
I live here, and John. This is our place to be.
Well, I do have a place to go.....my work.
I work at a grocery store.
I put things in bags. They call me a clerk.
I don’t make much money at the store.
But, I get money from DSS
It comes on the 15th, You know what it’s for?
With a coupon I get a milkshake for free.
Then I buy a big mac, a Play Boy magazine.
Then I wish for more milkshakes from my tree.
Inspired by a young man with Down’s who attended our church.
Supervised by DSS, he lived in an apartment with a room mate
and worked at various places as above.
© Apr 25 2010 Charles Henderson
Categories:
supervised, lifetree, me, money, tree,
Form:
Rhyme
The bald man is proud
He goes around boasting;
“Earth is congested and small.
Believe or reject this fact,
All places on earth are unfit
Lord God chose my head
Daily to land there as airport
Mankind and all creatures
Are supervised, judged by God
Not in heaven but from my head”
Categories:
supervised, life, satire,
Form:
Acrostic
I have tons of dreams amid the night's agony.
My optimism was tainted by despair.
Is there a cure to reignite passion?
Even anxiety found me sad.
The walls of the soul were silent.
The definition of wanting was inhibited.
And now I find myself at the ending of the hallway.
I am vigorously and repeatedly supervised.
Have faith in healing, waiting for relief.
We are puzzled by social visions.
The sharp focus is like a cloud.
The light on the Dark Ages.
Appears and vanishes.
Meaningless.
Stress.
Categories:
supervised, allegory, anxiety, deep, depression,
Form:
Concrete
It is disgusting that 734 people died at Mecca,
Last Thursday, when so many lives were lost,
Needlessly, for want of crowd control officials,
To restrain the 1.4 million who’s emotions cost.
Religion is never an objective thing,
It's extremely emotional, out with rational thought;
And the ritual that the pilgrims were approaching,
Was, in my opinion, religion’s most irrational shot.
It was the Stoning of the Devil ritual,
Which celebrates Abraham’s obedience to god,
Who told him to kill his son and ignore all conscience,
Rather than listening to Satan, who seemed to have the nod.
This sacrificial story sickens me to my stomach,
Always did, always will, still does:
That you should reason by faith any action,
That's it's valid, whether moral, immoral, or even just a shove.
Killing your own child just for a voice in your head,
Which says he’s love’s superior, consummation,
Is insane, wrong, and really quite mentally ill,
And certainly should not be taught in admiration.
As a child it was one of my main objections,
To faith, the liturgy, the Bible and god,
Who today should be represented by elders or imams,
Who should contrive to keep within morality’s rod.
When you’re at Mecca, the epitome of your faith,
Approaching the most irrational ritual in your life,
Your emotions are bound to get the better of you,
Such that regressive behaviour will be your strife.
Iran blamed the Saudi authorities,
For having no safety mechanisms in place;
Fundamentalism should come under, like all else,
Crowd regulation laws and standards which grace.
Even the Billy Graham stadium events,
Used ushers and councellors to ensure,
That people were behaving considerately:
They were ready to attend to and direct the pure.
I would like all fundamentalism to be regulated,
Supervised by a human-centred body,
Such that god coincides with morality,
Giving seekers their lofty and loving somebody.
27/9/2015
Abraham’s sacrifice of Isaac is in Genesis 22:1-19.
Categories:
supervised, anger, death, god, leadership,
Form:
Rhyme