Best Suspiciously Poems
In memory of----
Solely in my room, I can't stomach the sound of my pulse
I sit here alone to forget the taste of air.
Overwhelm by the scene -unbelievable footage
18 seconds long, "I can't breathe."
My judgment "GONE" stressing all night long
I use to fear dark colors, now I fear spinning bright lights
Red, White, and Blue, I spew the NY crew
What's wrong with your blue eyes?
You see him, you want him to die
What a day to trade -- a life for illegal cigarettes
Persecution and judgment day, sweet life - taken away
"I can't breathe", executed in broad daylight!
Bullets left and right
Who's policing the police
What happened to mind our business?
Moneymaker refused to be singled out
A hurting voice tackled by racism
Free to see, pouring his heavy heart,
Oinkers demand the ground, shutting down his testament
8 times too many, "I can't breathe!"
Where did his vitals go?
No one to tap him out, pound the pavement!
What the hell, why are you just standing there???
Stress, anger, madness, the voice of innocence
"I can't breathe." the volume to valium
"Officer, did you not hear the man?"
Are you deaf, have you forgotten how to save a life?
Is it just the NYPD or is it every other badge,
Insinuating crime's a one-color show.
We are all criminals, why the excessive heat?
Shot, tasered, beat down, pepper-sprayed, now on the ground
The mother of all chokeholds, murdered, outnumbered
The echoes remain "I can't breathe!"
- The truth!
Eric Garner robbed of his own natural path and youth
One man down eyed suspiciously
Perplexed minds suffocating him instantly
The mistrusted, the awe, the hate,
So tangible, uniforms using deadly force
One asthmatic in a chokehold
Slamming his head on the floor
Open wounds, worldwide tears
My heart goes to the family and friends left behind
A courageous last breath, for the first and last time
"I can't breathe," now deceased.
You left this world unwilling, waking up a strong community
Strolling in a safer world, where racial discrimination doesn't exist
"I can't breathe," Eric Garner Rest in peace!
By: PD
Categories:
suspiciously, abuse, bullying, color, discrimination,
Form:
Free verse
The child stands valorous before the door
With nary a tinge of fear or dread.
Armed with a spatula and a pancake flipper...
She wears a stewing pot on her head.
Her hands are protected by leather gloves
With her Father's boots to guard her feet.
Her swimming goggles are securely placed
And beneath her shirt... a cookie sheet.
With a determined sigh she cracks the door
And peers suspiciously through the night.
She momentarily thought the coming battle
May be best done in the bask of morning light.
But time was short and with each passing hour...
Others would surely die.
So she begins her journey to confront this beast
Who has taken many lives.
She makes her way through the wretched gloom
Giving thought to her parent's fears.
She had never seen them so full of doubt
In all her seven years.
But the time had come to join the fight...
To aid those who gave protection.
And she was well aware of its woeful lair
Where she would fight this damn infection.
A nurse stands wavering from a vengeful night
As another dozen deaths has left her cold.
But she then heard a voice so free of fear...
It brought a peaceful solace to her soul.
'I wonder if you would be so kind
To take this moment and give me some direction.
For I am stout and brave with pluck and daring
And will help defeat this cursed infection.'
The nurse's eyes welled up at such a sight
And a smile reached across her face.
As by her side now stood a child
Who would defend the human race.
So remember this when all is lost
And the best of us lose heart.
A unsung hero will rise to bring us hope
And inspire us all to do our part.
The End
Categories:
suspiciously, appreciation, inspiration, thanks,
Form:
Rhyme
Your tongue
suspiciously
spoke of constellations,
an unlicked sky gripping secrets
nonetheless, that mouth spat it's majesty
without ever stirring the air
proving no white stardust
really adorns
your tongue
Categories:
suspiciously, love
Form:
Rictameter
.
Like bolts of lightning I’ve
felt the words from my fingers
come forth
My heart
my brain
sparking thoughts
Out of them I dust the books of
love with words
I fantasize with paper
and pen
I cross fiords and skies
I cry out loud from the
high rocks of the sea
the bolts riddle
they rhyme the words
and charm the hearts
suspiciously
they uncover my thoughts
Categories:
suspiciously,
Form:
Free verse
ever somewhere in my soul
it burns
the lashes of the whip
that forces me to learn
that i had touched
the thorn of your rose
the puncture was deep
and the sting still grows
part of my psyche
tries to forget
but the sting of the incident
is like the lash of the whip
into my ears the
loud pop went
when ever i'm reminded of the
message you sent
in shame i cannot look
into your eyes
they won't tell the truth
they'll only tell lies
how can i reclaim
my wondering soul
that refuses to leave you
even though i'm gone
and your soul that i thought
i had in exchange
suspiciously missing
isn't that a shame
Categories:
suspiciously, depression,
Form:
Couplet
Society
an illusion, the shimmering mirage in a blistering desert of homogeny
with silicon grains seen only as dunes
mass minded sheep willfully penned in suspiciously safe paddocks
fearful of everything and nothing
tumultuous ocean with waves of conformism and exclusion
where rivers of contrast flow diluted to extinction
one and few dreaming in clouds and walking on air
tethered to a wonderfully disparate and inclusive reality
September 24, 2016
Poetry Contest: What is Society?
Sponsor: Ir0nic ZiNk
Rules:
- Let's see if you can describe society better than the next.
- You may terrify me.
- you may glorify me.
- You may even simply summarize society to the best of your ability.
- 10 lines max...
- bring it on! No holds bar
- Any form allowed
Categories:
suspiciously, environment, perspective, poetry, social,
Form:
Free verse
The Christmas when Santa got Fat
Kris Kringle rubbed his belly; he was feeling really hungry indeed
Mrs Claus had put him on a diet of what he felt was chicken feed
Brussel Sprouts and Lima Beans and lots of Spinach Green
Life’s unfair when you’re Santa Claus and still your wife is mean.
So what if he‘d piled on the pounds and his belly was very round
He could surely fit down any chimney without the slightest sound
Oh well he thought its Christmas eve , children would put out some snacks
Milk, Cookies and Candy Cane would put his tummy back on track.
He got into his silver sleigh and heaved a mighty sigh
Rudolph, , Prancer and Vixen waved to Mrs. Claus goodbye
He was really very hungry the clouds had begun to look like food
Then again if he asked his reindeers, they would be so very rude
They all agreed with Mrs. Claus, Santa was rounder in his seat
They hadn’t even let him carry his goodie bag of sweets
The last place on his list was the house of Jill and Joe
Aha he fit down the chimney and he heaved a mighty ho
He placed the doll and toy train right underneath the tree
He saw the milk and cookies and rubbed his hands in glee
He ate and ate the yummy snacks till his pants felt very tight
Cheerful now he began to feel Christmas Eve was a jolly good night
They he tried to climb up the chimney but heavens he couldn’t get back
He wriggled and squirmed but had to agree his middle was very fat
Rudolph, Prancer , Vixen he very softly called
You’ll have to pull get me out of here I can’t seem to move at all
The reindeers whinnied suspiciously what Santa felt was a nasty laugh
He now agreed sheepishly why his food had been cut down to half
They heaved and with a mighty yell, Santa came flying out
It was a good thing it was still midnight for no one had heard him shout
When they reached back home the reindeers gleefully recounted the tale
When he saw Mrs. Claus’ angry face, he began to get very pale
But when she gave her sweet belly laugh, Santa heaved a sigh of relief
It’s a good thing they got you out my dear before they thought you were a thief!
It’s a stricter diet for you this year before you revisit Jane and Joe
Or else instead of the chimney, you will have to ask to use the door!.
Categories:
suspiciously, children, christmas, fantasy, fun,
Form:
Rhyme
Age Discrimination is Rampant
By Elton Camp
Younger folks don’t think about such stuff
You will if you manage to live long enough
I didn’t experience it until after I retired
And looked for a new place to be hired
Jobs for which I was extremely qualified
My visage, interviewers suspiciously eyed
Just because I wasn’t young any more
I found that I couldn’t get past the door
Actually the money I didn’t really need
But wanted to keep ability up to speed
Computers I have taught students to use
Yet, tech incompetence some did accuse
And at one place, this young gutter snipe
Assumed I didn’t even know how to type
I was ignored or some false reason told
Not a one dared say that I was too old
But despite prejudice and unspoken jeers,
I found a job and worked for several years
Categories:
suspiciously, angst, prejudice,
Form:
Rhyme
I consider myself one of the biggest hypocrites of them all. I rejoice in sisterhood and celebrate black love and all.I like and re-post BLACKLIVESMATTERS post on my wall
but it's doesn't really matter if I cheer my sisters on at all or sing along to Beyonce's Formation in awe or wear Dashiki printed tops and go natural to find my roots, that i lost or preach about; wars, injustice , crimes and the death toll or try harder to represent my power as well as Rosa Park and refuse to move out of my confront zone or fight for my rights like Angela Davis or free my mind like Harriet Tubman did with them 'slaves' or fight for my blackness like sister Nina Simone or be reckless and fight white supremacy as Assata Shakur with the ideology of the Black Panther Party or celebrate Dr. Malcolm X as much as they shadily only celebrate Dr. Martin Luther King on his day. So why did my heart hurt when Ebola suspiciously broke out in the west of my mother's land, that was a genocide believe it or not, how you cure a white man but my brother ended up dying. I consider myself one of the biggest hypocrite of them all, if i so much loved my sisters or black love then why did the paper bag test, determine my perception of beauty or why does the media make me hate a sister darker than me.
Categories:
suspiciously, absence, africa, beauty, celebration,
Form:
Free verse
Denied an unspoken moment
If I were only "granted" the chance
The right suspiciously stolen
Upon your untimely-you left
My heart pierced, laden with leftover guilt
A wound not completely healed
Tears descend out of broken windows
My troubled essence hardly feels
Anguish I refused to admit
Looking past my face
Avoiding my reflection's gaze
Attempting to ignore my personal distaste
I remember clearly the fourth day
Though it was truly my first
More enraged at being the last to know
I wallowed in a selfish hurt
So ANGRY
Praying it an unpleasant joke, deflecting
Snatching the band of trust off my non-right hand
I've beseeched to be forgiven
Feeling no "You are"
Wish strongly time could reverse
To days before you resigned from existing
residing in the seed of my grief
So you, I can release you to peace
Exit the abyss that consumed me
Get over the growing mountain before me
Now I apologized hauntingly
I must traverse around to get past
What I naught gotten over
Loved you so much so
Must let you go
Uncertain if you knew
My apology, my sable shade, love unexpressed
Never received the chance
Foe the truth of my words
To embrace your final ears
I'm sorry. Goodbye.
Categories:
suspiciously, anxiety, bereavement, best friend,
Form:
Elegy
the mystery of the girl and monsters
in the fog, lost, precarious knocking,
lighthouses, antique dresses,
the back and forth of my imagination.
at sea - the deep, dark movement
of unseen waves, unremembered
dendrites firing at each suspenseful turn.
the real storm, unrelenting all-night-feast
of thunder cracks and lightning bolts -
has Frankenstein’s monster come alive?
the scary knock at the door - don’t answer it!
we laugh so hard, how imaginings and story
support our fear. likewise, the top of the hill -
are you kidding it’s dark? one must
not venture where one might spy a host
of trouble; but the girl you’d follow
in the drizzly mist, to the fashionable past -
inviting, suspiciously exciting, an escape.
with monsters, well…watch out for the tale -
a little-red-riding-hood-precautionary blow.
7/2/2022
Categories:
suspiciously, mystery,
Form:
Free verse
In Kenya, they are called value-added taxes, “yani VAT”.
They change and increase every year
And are placed on everything under the sun.
The prices increase daily,
But they say it would lead to everyone paying their fair share of tax.
They are better referred to as poverty taxes,
Because they punish the poor to become the poorest,
They entrench selfishness among the neighbours and friends,
They take away the only saving of the poor in the society,
and one wonders why the poor remain the poorest.
The tax takes the homes,
The mortgages become unaffordable,
The rent skyrockets in Nairobi, Kisumu and Mombasa,
While the gas prices become unbearable.
The cars and bus rides become a luxury,
and our lunches are taken from our mouths.
The tax man is always on the door,
You wonder if you are under some emergency evacuation.
Taxman takes every percentage of your hospital bill,
Or school fee, or your child’s pocket money, or church tithe offerings,
Until there is nothing positive to take away.
Worst of it, the bills and penalties are always in your postal mail.
The services offered at government offices are poor.
The civil servants are rude to the core like vampires.
The infrastructure development is wanting,
The electricity blackouts in rural areas are frequent,
Education facilities not well equipped,
Health facilities are rotting from inadequate funding,
and any innovation is suspiciously viewed as a threat.
The tax man never explains where is the tax,
Nor what development activities were completed.
The poor’s voice can’t be heard yet everything is taxed.
The poor continue to be taxed to poverty,
While the tax man feeds the corrupt all the taxes.
Categories:
suspiciously, political, poverty,
Form:
Political Verse
LITTLE GIRL
“Come,”
she says, and beckons.
I sit with her, we’re playing
LEGO dollhouse, Bob the Builder.
Barbie, Play-Doh, drawing.
“There, a birdie, lift me?”
“Darling, I can’t, a second,
And I’ll get my chair, we go out if you want?”
“You are big, WALK! You are no baby!
You can walk and you can talk”
“But I AM a baby! You push me outside
Together we ride
and see the birdies?”
She eyes me suspiciously.
And then smiles deliciously.
“You are big baby
But I am mummy and I carry you.
We go see the birdies, yes?”
I nod, lift her chin, caress
Her crown of hair, so fair!
“You carry me.”
She carries me everywhere,
She is in my heart
Even when not physically there.
She will always be a part
Of me. My little ray of light,
Always there, I think of her
During the longest night.
***
Originally written in Juli 2016
Categories:
suspiciously, child, girl, kiss, sweet,
Form:
Free verse
It was my plan to set aside this past week
to prepare for the Quantitative Graduate Record Exam.
A week ago this seemed like a big number
for ample review,
time set aside from more typical U.S. autumn events,
like electing a white male economic supremacist for President,
after having taken a 12 year break
from all those irrational remainders.
I have always thought math should be revolutionary,
climatic,
resonantly resolving like rainbow harmonies of scale,
profoundly correlational with geometric truths
as algebraic beauty,
and I suppose it may be all those good things
yet this week math feels suspiciously snarky and sinister,
replete with far more ways to go wrong
than right.
So today I was thinking maybe I shouldn’t bother
with these mysterious Quantities of testing.
Although I did well forty years ago
and didn’t know any more or less
about mathematical machinations then
than now.
Or so I thought
until I actually opened up the GRE review section.
When did math become so monochromatically dull,
devoid of plot
and anything resembling metaphysical charisma?
Soon I found the verbal questions
much more edifying.
Well, OK, not really that,
but more entertaining than watching formulas dry
and principles march in relentless mind-numbing LeftBrain dominant lock-step.
It took years of ecotherapy to overcome
white male LeftBrain dominance
and now, so late in life,
discovering I don’t even miss it
any more or less than zero-sum WinLose economics.
But, I think I will visit the Quantitative section
day after tomorrow
Say goodbye to old friends
I’ve never had occasion to use
or abuse
due to relentless negative correlational neglect.
It might be fun
to see if I guess as well as I used to
when I was still young enough
to believe metric right or wrong could possibly matter.
Now I know it’s just not true
except for statistical analysis,
which is at least as much about
the politics of subjective Electoral College economics,
as objective rules of fair and accurately cooperative procedures,
verified as reified by all.
Categories:
suspiciously, education, humor, math, political,
Form:
Prose Poetry
He was right to be suspicious
She was acting suspiciously
So he followed her that morning
To see what he might see
She didn’t go towards her office
She took the road to the ocean shore
And pulled up to a motel where
They had never been before
He watched her get a room key
Then go to a cabin with an ocean view
He was hurting so much inside himself
He didn’t know just what to do
He saw another man knock on the door
Looking tall and younger than him
He loaded the pistol from inside his car
As she let the stranger in
He shot her once aside the head
Him twice in the face
Then turned the pistol upon himself
Making a full mess of the place
The police found a cell phone in her hand
The stranger left a bible on the table
The husband’s cell phone was on the front seat of his car
Displaying 1 voice message on the label
“Hi Honey, I know it’s a month early but … Happy Anniversary. I got us a terrific little room at this quaint motel down in Seaside and found a nice young preacher who said he would perform a service to reaffirm our vows. When you get this message, come down and join me. See you soon … Love you.”
Categories:
suspiciously, husband, mystery, ocean,
Form:
Rhyme