Best Tasked Poems
I'm but a frail bird tasked to bring hope and spread peace.
How shall I fly high in the sky with such a brittle burden!
My heart pounds in dilemma like a ping pong ball as I release
my wings in the air to take a flight at the height of a dark sky.
As dark as it can be, above me, the cauldron-black sky
with scary scars of blazing explosions emitting blinding light.
Beneath me, the brazier ground groaning with an outcry,
shedding tears of sparks that vaporize into nebulous smokes.
In between is the whizzing of weapons, excreting smokes
and urinating radiation that smothers the air with brutality.
Warhead rockets, firing aircraft, missiles, bombs...stoke
the fire of war for the sake of supremacy by killing morality.
Shrills of ruination buried under the roars of madness spree
while the two-legged demons having a bloodbath with big guns.
Colors of bliss faded away and helpless time trying to flee
as achromic misery taints moments with grim stains in gallons.
Ember red blood is the only bold color that flows in streams
dyeing the soil and water with a stench of rotting death.
Once cultivated verdant fields are now burned into coal seams.
Marred by violence, houses crumble like ashes in hearth.
Such horrific images I see all around me as the hearth
of fierce war burns with glaring flames and crackling noises.
I fly, hover and fly with my singed wings as there is a dearth
of safe shelter; my exhausted body trembles with fear.
Would I be able to stop the war? I questioned myself with fear.
Quite a hard-hitting answer I received in the form of a bullet
that pierced my heart and I fell on the ground with tears.
From my smeared blood, poppies bloom around me as I die.
Date: 11/12/2017
It was nigh on to St. Crispin's day
But I found no solace there.
The night curdled with discontentment
As a vile expectation filled the air.
Death himself appeared at my door...
His heinous purpose not yet clear.
It ripped me to the very core...
It tasked my soul with fear.
'Forgive this late intrusion.'
It offered in a throated baritone.
"I am due this night to reap a soul...
But your neighbor's not at home.'
With a firm grip on my mortality...
I could think of nothing more.
I called out towards my husband...
'Honey... you're wanted at the door.'
The End
I can’t think of a theme I confess
and doubting I’ll please John Lawless
I’m ahhing and umming
and no words are coming
my shattered nerves are such a mess!
I’m tasked to write oodles of words
(I won’t mention boobies or turds)
Each word I am counting
my tension is mounting
John’s turning us into word nerds
I’m twiddling my pen in the night
my fickle muse has taken flight
She’s enjoying a cruise
drinking lots of booze
Oh bother, I’m in such a plight
I wonder if I can conform
I’m having an awful brainstorm
If my word count is short
contest dreams I’ll abort
my endeavours I’ll treat with scorn
I’ve finally found inspiration
my forehead’s drenched in perspiration
Now this work’s complete
Poets rise to your feet
I deserve a standing ovation!
Word Count 136 as per Microsoft word
One Hundred and Thirty Six Words Poetry Contest Poetry Contest
Sponsored by John Lawless
9/2/19
As the rain pelted down on my windshield
hypnotic wipers swayed back and forth
stuck in a traffic mass exodus
I exited south out of New York
Deep in thought regarding the funeral
in the solitude of my mobile sanctuary
spellbound by memorable family scenes
played out by my movie projector cerebral
My eyes were glued to the road
while my minds eye multi tasked
very much aware that I was driving
the surreal movie reel didn't last
Once again I had been daydreaming
as I pulled up to a stop sign just ahead
and with a odd feeling that time had briefly stopped
glanced at the time on my watch
5-29-18
Ghetto me be a bleating poor refugee,
albeit I’m Goshen rich in faith
Got a manger stall in the USA,
Pilate shepherd of the Cesarian peace
Time stamped stillborn delivery
tis iron Roman numeral four C
Furnace cast existence: bane brand bound
Babylonian condition, a marketplace sound
Fleeced heritage ... sob separated,
I am just the latest stolen cargo generation
being cerulean cloth asphyxiated
By legion overseers of an ungrateful nation
These pyramid gnash, link bled bones
twas being Pharaoh oppressed: Prey worked to death
in a Memphis factory plantation owned
Where noxious hate suffocate poverty-cuffed breath
Be daily double tasked in a graveyard shift
Those pale hearts so addicted
to the golden flask, err tilted
Drunk on power, they cull with a siren sift
O miry, downtrodden me ...
temporally chained to this wavy treachery
Verily, a wretched place for a black sheep —
such cotton weary misery!
So after four centuries of Cain deluge,
I do still tearfully seek
A rainbow ark sacred place of refuge
promised to the meek
The True Alpha Male
The True Alpha Male is the man that is masculine, but not toxic.
The man whose behavior proceeds from a sense of propriety, confidence, and a high sense of self-worth;
who maintains a level head in times of emergency, and a measured response in conflict;
who does not intentionally seek to make the low value male conscious of his lower value tendencies, nor the beta male of their passivity;
who becomes humbled if he has to humble another;
who does not crumble when tasked to lead, or appear overly boastful of his possessions or achievements;
a man who speaks directly, but always from the heart;
whose word is his bond;
who recognizes where he lacks, and seeks knowledge to improve;
who faces his fears, and strives to be a better version of himself daily;
who lives life in steadfast pursuit of his goals, while compelling others to do the same; and who can find comfort in any social setting, a man with whom confidence is sacred and value high.
-Obsidian Blakk
Stranded in war torn Sudan,
Dreading yet another dawn.
In Wadi Sayyidna town,
Hopelessness was weighing down.
Men and women, young and old,
Watched the civil war unfold.
Homeless, desperate, full of fear,
Longing for their near and dear.
Then on 27th April night,
A C-130J took flight.
Manned by pilots skilled and brave,
Tasked to rescue and to save.
They were flying almost blind,
No navigation aids would they find.
Degraded strip, no landing lights
In the darkness of the night.
Infrared sensors scanned the ground;
No inimical force was found.
Using goggles for night vision,
Thay carried out their tough mission.
An enthralling tale had begun;
Six score passengers and one
Shepherded onto the plane.
Headed for their homes again.
Valor of the highest kind,
Audacity was redefined.
The Hercules and its brave crew
Achieved a feat of derring-do.
India's vaunted military might,
Wrote another chapter bright
In our valiant history;
There for all the world to see.
Written by Colonel Ramanan Duraiswami
AMC,Rtd
29th April 2023.
I'm looking for a human heart,
A brand-new one, por favor,
Mine's quite cold and broken,
I don't want it anymore.
It served a purpose for a while,
And it beat with rhythm, sure ...
But its seams are old and ragged,
Since I heard "goodbye" from her.
I'll only need a modest one,
I don't plan to use it much,
It won't be tasked with loving,
Just pumping blood and such.
I won't need help exchanging
The old one, that's no doubt,
There's no surgery required -
As she already ... cut it out.
God has tasked poets,
With keeping Hope alive,
Love in all their labours,
Anger under control,
Sadness from overflowing,
Romance from slipping off the page,
And most poets can take heart from their effort,
To instill in others what they write in indelible ink,
For all who cross their page,
And read between the lines.
Not all thy fight is flesh and blood
know that it's spiritual;
you cannot win against this flood
the only way out, is God for sure.
Who may they be? thou tempt to ask
do not be scared, for you shall know;
Heavenly beings, to God they task
tear up your flesh, as do the crows.
Only the Christ, turn this around
protect thy mind, thy soul, thy flesh;
we are too frail to halt this sound
we are too weak, we're in this mess.
Known as the Principalities...
they seek to tear you up whole;
my dear, that's no figure of speech
if they could, drink you from a bowl.
It's different with thy neighbour
whom you are tasked to forgive;
unnatural are "their" troubles
but man you are tasked to reprieve.
It's good to have the Armour of God
but if you don't, fret not;
his Mercy thus entails a lot
prayers to Christ, the battles fought!
So pray to Christ, His Mercies fly
keep you safe, by day and night;
spiritual evil He thus decries
the Lord, I AM, be in His Light!
Amen!
My views are trenchant and modest.
My thoughts as clear as day.
I marvel at the things I know
While ignoring much what others say.
You must now follow my direction
And blindly accept all I have in store
Where your most cherished held beliefs
Will not bother you no more.
You will be free to act as I command
As I make bold your privilege and your past.
And with my loving care and maintenance
You may yet survive what's come to pass.
So stand and meekly beg for mercy
But ignorance proves your heinous acts...
Knowing any attempt to defend yourself
Is a clear prostration of the facts.
When I come to take your neighbor...
Be not concerned if one or two.
But rest assured... the time will come
When I gleefully come for you.
Please skulk in worry and trepidation
As who knows what the next day brings?
Since those who would deny me power
Are thankfully consumed by other things.
You will therefor crumble before my zeal
And it matters not that some will die.
As I lay a pox upon the great unwashed
Who dare not to think as I.
Be not tasked with want and worry
At the evil I have wrought.
Just know my world will be a better place
Once I control your thoughts.
The End
When we silence the noise, of our electric clock
wake-up, turn on lights, and our coffee pot
Should we feel shame, for what we have done
or in blissful ignorance, greet the morning sun
millions of people perform this ritual everyday
Without thought of consequence, just time saved
Some men, wives and children seek only to survive
others use time to plunder and destroy all alive
The path of life's maze fixed by our choices in life
nescient of truth, all choice will lead us to strife
Kept weak, hopeless, fearful, no query is raised
Is it apathy or a delusion, men take to their grave
dregs of the waste, have defiled air, sea and sand
befouled Gods heaven, killing both plant and man
A priority, we created, pillaged humanity on earth
Pantology repressed, only to seed arrogance not mirth
The people's voices muted, because of some men's greed
but, questions persist, and now we all must take heed
I am only a farmer, tasked with planting some seed
as a caretaker of land, my life is to cultivate and weed
An estimate, of 60 years needed to decontaminate the land
What men built, planting their nuclear seed in the sand
Take time to think, talk and inquire of all that is planned
Please put, a pen to paper, instead of heads in the sand
The future life of plants, animals and the humanity of men
Rests in The Peoples Voices and Words from their pen
A girl was raped in a bus that night
By six men, all drunk, who had lost their minds
Ambrosia was the elixir of gods, it is said
But godlike men in this age aren’t born or made
Alcohol wrecks judgment, makes beasts out of men
Deeds under its influence have put us men to shame
Shops abound in our nation where alcohol is sold
The government till overflows when the weather turns cold
A corrupt force is tasked to uphold the country’s law
Incidents occurring on a daily basis expose this basic flaw
Fear of law is no deterrent for miscreants and crooks
The police prefer to look away; with them, they are in cahoots
But a girl still battles death today aided by a ventilator
Skewered with an iron rod that night, unending was her horror
Demonstrations against this shame were met with brutal force
Citizens showing solidarity were bludgeoned without remorse
The hand that wields the baton to protect civil society
Is now the hand that throttles free voice and liberty
Bad governance, we know is the bane of any nation
Bad policing and lawlessness is responsible for any country’s degeneration
Instead of upholding law and maintaining order
Law enforcers are subdued by their political masters
Whose lack of will to rein in the force given selfish political aspirations
Stems from a sense of indebtedness for furthering their ambitions
Burning state fuel at night they stalk and chase prey
Fleecing shady truckers and wheeler-dealers who operate in markets grey
This extortion by night on city road and state highway
Robs the state of much needed revenue and is an add-on to their pay
Similar incidents happen each day of the year and night
In night’s anonymous darkness or blatantly by daylight
With the force preoccupied in matters so vital
Who will protect our girls and control the crime spiral
The government of the day is callous to people’s concerns
Callous to a daughter’s fate on whom men on a bus took turns
I'll remember twenty-fifteen
for the atrocities, I've seen.
When ISIS cut a man's head off,
newsmen squealed like pigs at a trough.
The Arab spring was ill-conceived,
democracy wasn't achieved.
And refugees thus forced to flee,
capsized boats, and got drowned at sea.
Religion reared its ugly head,
now we're tasked with counting the dead.
In the name of God, blood ran cold
young girls got kidnapped, raped, and sold.
White cops gunned down unarmed black kids
for minor crimes the law forbids.
Fueling hate that plagued the streets,
bigotry didn't need white sheets.
Global warming was proven real,
it doesn't matter how you feel.
Twenty-fifteen brought mostly pain,
let's pray; its like, won't come again.
(Rhyme)
12/30/2015
One night I stood and, breathless, swooned,
Beneath those hems of twilight's wound,
To dream and brood on what might be,
Should man but skirr that starry sea ...
To cast our hopes 'midst midnight sky,
Bright jewels of Heaven's bosom, ply ...
To plunge an ocean's suns, serene,
Through matter, dark and serpentine ...
To pierce the trembling veil of night,
Or plumb a maelstrom, bathed in light ...
To tease the cheek of morn to blush,
Then soothe the evening to a hush,
Wend soft, the mists, as angels dance,
So tasked to trim the great expanse ...
And wander, broad, that sapphire fold ...
Until the stars, themselves ... grow cold.
~ 3rd Place ~ in the "Poetically Me This Picture What Cha' See" Poetry Contest, James Edward Lee, Sr, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Any Couplet Written October thru November 2017" Poetry Contest, Laura Loo, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Early November Standard" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.