Best The World Poems
A bright array of rainbow hues
adorns the parchment now and then,
and gives a glimpse of writer’s views,
an image brushed by poet’s pen.
The yellow hues of morning sun,
the break of dawn described in verse,
or crimson sky as day is done
when, in the sea, sun will immerse.
A poem of gentle flower’s bloom
who’s petals drip with morning dew;
‘tis nature’s soft pastel perfume,
or metaphor of passion’s hue.
A verse of mountains white with snow
or verdant forest lush with pine;
the grass cloaked valley down below
where streamlets flow through scented vine.
Emotions penned within each verse;
sometimes a melancholy blue,
or red with passion to coerce
their dreams, as lovers’ lives renew.
A verse of lost love penned in rhyme,
or poem lamenting loved one’s death;
a lilt of lovers held by time
as passion takes away their breath.
A writer’s dream as brushed with quill
upon the parchment comes to life
as vibrant rainbow colors spill
his heart, with its emotions rife.
This poet’s heart, a calm serene,
he sees the world in many ways,
and with his pen he paints the scene,
preserved in time, a moments gaze.
September 2, 2020
Real women
Understand a very simple yet important concept.
Love begins at home.
Everything else just follows.
To eliminate
Hatred from the world
Entails raising children with love and guidance.
Women deserve the utmost respect and support from their partners in their
Obligations as mothers to instill morals in their offspring.
Rare is the child who goes bad when love rules his home.
Ladies, demand respect, and value your precious roles as mothers.
Don’t you realize that through your children, YOU rule the world!
Written March 8, 2017 on the International Women's Day!
Welcome to the world of Worldly
where we feast all night.
All those things you once thought wrong -
here they all are right!
Worldly’s citizens are many.
Membership is free.
Criminals are here as well as
high society.
Come here and forget your sorrows
and forget your past.
Leave your ethics at the door too.
Here they will not last.
Come consume the fatted calf.
Imbibe cherry wine.
Love is a four letter word.
Lust, though, is divine!
Little boys and pretty girls
are also here to serve you
(if you lean that way, of course).
All things are on the menu!
Worship with us at the alter.
The sacrament for sin
is your blood lust or that rush
you get beneath your skin.
We have got a secret leader
with the gift of charm.
Succumb to him. We will relax you.
Let us prick your arm.
Our special members love green color
and they love their gold.
You might qualify one day. . .
Just do as you're told.
Finally, remember this.
In Worldly you will be
with peers who think and act like you
(should you need sympathy).
to walk in early morning's still
to see the silence through the chill
to smell the rise of dawn from night
to hear the sky's unravelling light
to taste the distant fields of grass
to breathe the dry stone walls that pass
to touch the earth's pure pristine air
to catch the world - and hold it there.
IF POETS RULED THE WORLD
If poets ruled the world
laws would be written with panache and...
oh yes, compassion;
civil liberty in fashion.
Carpetbaggers fold up your tents and cash in.
Poets. like mothers,
would never send their brothers to war.
Poets don’t have voices that sound like guns,
words can bite, incite,
but history is made by men who fight
not for wrong or right but might.
If poets ruled the world
every city block would have a park
for birds and dogs alike,
with a path for bikes and soft ice cream.
Trees would be everywhere, cars even fewer.
The whole damn system flushed down the sewer
if only poets were the rulers.
If the world by poets was ruled
hunger would feed on the deeds of honest men,
perhaps not Zen but a blend
of now and then, form and function.
Tear down the walls of corruption in government,
make way for equanimity, grace of femininity.
So let it be known and forever shown
that poets should rule the world.
Dec 21/18
NOTE: This style is one I developed and is called a SCIRPO which is Italian for weave or twist.
It is characterized by a rhyme scheme that wraps around itself in no particular order.
Also, each stanza adds another line moving from 5 to 6 to 7 to 8 lines and so on
L i f e
I sense your perplexed pulse
within pirouetting pearls,
steeped in sinister streaks,
while fading sparks
of dulcet stars
swing from threads of darkness
on the verge of vertigo,
living in minutes
caught in the crawling contradiction
of tainted t i m e…
O’ f r a g i l e hummingbird,
I hear the hushed hymns
hovering through the ebony haze,
awaiting unlocked gates
adorned with regal rubies,
reflecting heaven that
sings of the sacred.
For in your lonely serenade,
in bittersweet solitude,
you raise fatigued feathers
to the alluring azure,
to heed the heartbeats
of the halcyon haven,
amidst your spirit
drowning in dreariness,
soaked in sadness,
counting cursed crystals
as blessings from the essence
of this endless enigma~
d r e a m gliding in drowsiness,
drenched in midnight terrors,
flowing between technicolor tercets,
etched in obsidian tears
within the raven prose
of Edgar Allen Poe,
oblivious to the table set,
serving chalices
brimming with
moonbeams and hope,
as you’ve long tasted
toxic embers from hellfires,
in a satanic sphere that knows
not the ingredients of peace,
consumed with hate and prejudice,
perhaps prewritten
from ashes seized
from the Hades inferno,
a spring stolen from the
valleys of dancing daffodils.
So let me waltz
beyond constellations of cruelty.
It’s too late to save the world,
to color the globe in lime green
and blooming blue,
as there is no winning
when the devil sits
on a throne of fickle flowers,
where snakes slither
through the narcissistic eyes
of the emperor~
dressed in deception,
eager to rule the weak and naive
with nothing but the scorching
heat of the serpentine sunsets,
bleeding venomous verses
upon your canvas
that pleads and prays
for compassionate clemency.
I feel the rising
of the merciful moon,
embracing the wolverine warmth,
filling the emptiness between
wicked lines,
k i s s e d by the weeping wind,
as purple phrases across pastel pages,
immortalize the poetic need to
paint the world with l o v e and lilac...
I imagined this world a far better place
Hunger and sadness removed every trace
The wars had all stopped there was peace on Earth
Joy accompanied every beautiful birth
People all listened when wise men did speak
The bold and the beautiful were equal to the meek
Status was less important than truly being kind
People were not hurtful when they spoke their mind
Strength was measured by the good we would do
We thought of the many and less of the few
Work was a pleasure no longer a grind
By doing what we loved we nourished the mind
We chose here and now we didn't live in the past
Time was less fleeting each moment did last
We enjoyed all the people who were part of each day
There was time for relaxation we learned how to play
From my imagination I learned more as I thought
Things might happen slowly but they can change a lot
The best way to begin is to be a better me
To not think of other people as my enemy
Force has never worked it has led to more hate
What some think is inevitable doesn't need to be fate
You may think me naive yet that's not the case
Fear is the enemy that we need to erase!
Written April 12, 2016
For Dan Kearley's Contest.
Eaten By The World
I tried to eat the world
but it caused me stomach pains
The bones of the lost
are all that remains
It was flavored with deceit
with a coating of sweet honey
The rotisserie went round and round
it was powered by big money
I drank from the rivers
as they began to flood
Fish no longer lived there
the waters turned to blood
The grain from the fields
had long ago blown away
The once fertile soil
had turned to dust and clay
Fruit from all the trees
lay rotting on the ground
Fists upon my chest
I began to pound
We once had a garden
a paradise on earth
With greed we all destroyed it
we didn’t understand it's worth
So I took another bite
trying to get my share
empty tasteless promises
with no nourishment there
I watched the World bite back
Earthquakes our demise
Hurricanes and fires
As ocean waters rise
People seemed surprised
The changes came so fast
Sooner rather than later
We became part of the past
A planet without humans
Skies now crystal blue
The world she survived
By eating me and you
The color palette of the world has changed.
Wispy painters brush clouds line a clear calm sky.
The day is dry and cold, powdery snow starts to fall.
Flowers have ceased budding and spilling over in the garden;
yet the passion, fragrant, rosebud cherry and amber
honeysuckle vine, twines round the wooden arbor,
inviting the few scarce bees to come to its nectar.
Forbearance wooden starlings and mourning doves
move on with their singing and coo-OO-oo throughout the day.
Warm breath onto the cold window, a traced note of love.
10/1/2023
Stagnant hateful world we live
Something has got to give
Mass destruction of the human soul
Innocent lives have become the toll
False prophets who have manipulated the word
Has planted a seed in every boy and girl
It's time to take back ALL our lost
And teach them love at any cost
Stop judging people on how they look
Or who they love,or what book
Love,
our most
precious gift,
helps our world turn
with stronger heartbeats.
Reach out to help dear friends;
stretch arms to embrace loved ones.
Greet strangers with that happy smile;
branch out to spend time with the lonesome.
Our love...the strength that turns the world around.
Our love...the strength that turns the world around.
But earth's heart and soul need our love too.
Planet earth maintains nature's rules:
must spend her gifts cautiously,
safeguard her atmosphere,
save cherished water.
She requires care
to move on.
Grant her
Love.
WHEN ALL THE WORLD IS QUIET
(It’s too late version)
When all the world is quiet
And the night is fully deep,
A mystic moon is watching
All the places underneath.
My thoughts like panthers moving
through the jungle, they do creep.
Among the lingering shadows
lies a naked hairy beast…
When all the world is quiet
Amid the pine trees night is dark,
The Hunter charges east-southeast
As Venus makes her mark.
But its not these welcome visitors
That wretched me from my sleep,
For they have come, the moving lights,
It’s their secrets I can’t keep.
When all the world is quiet
People would not believe
The shower of light, the dusting
Of illuminating cosmic debris;
“Not of this Earth”, I tell you,
“Embrace the night”, they implore.
But they often go to places
I’d rather not explore.
When all the world is quiet
Hairy beast meets Neo-man
They’ve been coming here for millennia,
Our consciousness to expand.
Too many gods, countless laws
And many borders defended,
The message they send is simple,
Life as we know it has ended.
When all the world is quiet
Listen if you can
Peace and love resound over
The noise of clumsy man.
Aspire to the Divine, my child,
Let children lead the way.
The music of the spheres is love,
Oh, let the music play.
The world has changed so fast
that I was caught off guard.
I never thought I would see,
the hate and pervasive bigotry
that exists in the world today.
Then, the internet came along
and shrunk the world to fit in your phone;
opening doors that were once closed.
While at the same time;
every kook, grifter, charlatan, and conspirator
on the fringes of society: got a bully pulpit;
to cater to a select audience of like-minded trolls.
Corruption, fear-mongering
and alternative truths,
are entrenched in our government,
peddling lies as entertainment and news.
World War Three, once unthinkable,
is gaining favorability with the masses;
fueled by cultist propaganda and doomsday bravado
that spreads like a virus on social media.
We are polluting the land, poisoning the oceans,
and brainwashing the minds of our youth,
without any regard for the truth.
I recall when people didn't lock their doors,
and neighbors greeted one another with a smile or a wave.
But today, we're caught in the worldwide web
of a technological spider's electronic threads,
where, sooner or later, I fear we will be eaten.
Its filtering down.' Over the streets and open ground.' From
Clouds to fog formation, just forget about coal burnt waste inahalation.' Do not bother with I C E car emissions
This is a ( total war condition ) carried out in hidden labs
Our ecosystem is now reserved for the slab.' In morgue
Unknown?? in slithering and stealth.' Its walls are built its
Roof the whole heavens.' Come to think a bit? Forests and
Farms and crops are harmed, the unborn and infants, and
Us. Yet dont be alarmed.? Just tune in to another tv show;
Like 'the view maybe?' Is that the place that informs you?
Or ( my kitchen stinks?) If you are in O Z.? Meanwhile you
Caring governments have got your bods? Inhaling such
Stuff as strontium graphene and barium too and also
Aluminum, its a potent brew; hundreds of particles can coat
One hair.! Human, animal, insect, yet do they care? W H O
Must know.' About this pandemic.? Which throughout the
World is now a systemic.' Along with flouride in the water
We must drink.' Hey why not; night cap in an injection? I
Must ask what do 'you think?' Do you know about this a
In fact is it your job.? To spray these poision particles.! Do
You get a few bob.? Or do you package the poision do you
Print the lables? In our modern Außchwitz whats on the
Table.? I hear the worlds top geo scentist Dr David Keith was popped
This very question.? Now isnt that a relief? Or maybe not.? If its
True.? Because the answer he chose, on ultimate effects
On our whole planet.?? He said I really do not know!
Meanwhile from Attenbrough and Thunberg.?? On all the above' its just a no show.!!
True writers write from their hearts,
because they have ink in their veins.
Words flow onto their paper,
as they go writing away.
Their wonderful imagination comes alive,
wanting their readers to enjoy their work.