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The Best Truth Poems

Details | Truth Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Because of You

I used to be naive, I used to trust
but then that trust just crumbled into dust
the world at large is so unkind, it's true
there is the world at large, and then there's you

You are the one on whom I rest my soul
my naked thoughts reveal without control
You are the one to banish every doubt
to make me see what trust is all about

You are the one I tell each secret fear
the one whose fragrant promise lingers near.
You are the one who knows my hidden ways
Who fills with love the moments and the days

You are my fortress sure, my anchored dream
I lie still in your arms in flowing stream
You are the one who loves without degree
the one whose smile erases history

You are the lover's hope avowed in pledge
A sure security when life's on edge
You are my truth, my strength, my everything
Because of you, my heart and soul can sing

Eileen Manassian 


Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2017


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Listen To Life

Have you heard me?

Borne upon the air at dusk, dancing ... I have whispered you in a million voices
    Still, you descry not my utterance? Listen, yet, for all is precious ...
        In the tremble of the plum blossoms - is the tender truth not there?
            In the aching sigh of spring-tide, longing for the touch of LIFE

Does my intent not appear ... clearly?
    In the hollow goodbye of the passing, placed into cold soil
        Or scattered, spinning, on the breeze ... in the belly laugh of a child,
            Finding untarnished joy for the first time ... in the bloom of creation

Come to realization on the tip of a slender branch .. hearken yet, close! There!
    Feel it ... HEAR it! Within the keen and cold desperation of winter wind ...
        Inside the scratchings of fear, black as coal ...
            Deep, deep within the horror of oblivion, and the knowledge

That the ONLY thing that endears life to itself, is the LOSS of it ...
    Here - here in the breath of silence ... brushed aside, oh so gently,
        Like the strands of hair from a baby's forehead in the midst of fever ...
            Like a lover painted in moonbeams - lost in moments,

Drowning in the hope that intimacy means something more ...
    Like the glint in the eye of a pet, whose owner's caress is everything ...
        Like the rusty tears of a madman, doomed,
            Shed for the sake of life sacrificed in reclamation ...

Like the warm pulse of lifeblood, coursing ...
    Like the wash of phosphorescence on a beach,
        Where countless souls were given - sacrificed needlessly
            For the aims of self-important fools, half a world away ...

Like the frost on a window, left by the breath of a dying promise ...
    Like the shudder of skin, touched by attentive fingertips in passion ...
        Like the cold kiss of a friend, lost, set free by the failing of a respirator
            A final farewell to an existence of pain ...

Like the face of a dear one, cradled in your palms in the wish for forgiveness ...
    I have spoken to you in earnest - across the addled ages,
        You have felt my breath warm on your cheek, yet you walk on, careless
            You buzz about your life in apathy and indifference,

Searching for integral meaning, when that meaning was yours all the time ...
    The preciousness of this existence, is ONLY of such value for two reasons:
        It is BRIEF ... and you are mortal ...
            Life is the only true gift you are EVER given

And death the unshakable assumption of its worth
    Death is ultimate, inescapable ...
        But in all its dark disguises, it is the one TRUE element that we require
            The one true measure of importance,

And the salvation of all that is good and estimable,
    For LIFE is worthless without it ...
        Its precious spark, doused with but a breath of limitless value.
            I have whispered that to you in a million voices ...

Have you heard me?




~ 1st Place ~  in the "How Precious Life Is" Poetry Contest, Line Gauthier, Judge & Sponsor.



Copyright © Gregory R Barden | Year Posted 2017


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American Indian, Nightshades, Moonshadows And Howling Wolf

American Indian, Nightshades, Moonshadows And Howling Wolf

Thirsty for red moon, its sacred beams and eternal pull
howling-out to speak to this dark and blind world, without fear;
Your echoes enter, soulful bones of insightful red man
birthing growing urges to return and run truly free,
falling upon ancient trails, foraging for lean red meat
race with red-heart's deepest desires into widest abyss,
embrace our mother earth, unified into one body. 

Where ancient trails once well-known, rests under dust long fallin'. 
Moon's golden realms hear both man and wolf, faithful loud callin'.

Standing proud, atop very high and lonesome mountain crag
winds caressing one of Nature's most beautiful creatures;
Notes calling loud, that give night's resplendent moon pregnant pause
in that silent and golden moment, where man so trembles,
for it is then knowledge comes, therein sings of true freedom
having no need for dreams of blind men or dark worldly lusts,
speaking to pack below, mirroring its deep felt tones.

Where ancient trails once well-known, rests under dust long fallin'. 
Moon's golden realms hear both man and wolf, faithful loud callin'.

Alas! Fate and Fury- rage combine and oft delivers
soul-crushing, black-handed cuts from darkened realms far below;
Wherein has justice overcame Fate's most savage attacks
when hatred and greed both conspired to not be defeated,
in infliction of war's sorrows and deadly destruction
while parading under banner of Light and compassion,
tales of malevolent beasts, benevolently destroyed!

Where ancient trails once well-known, rests under dust long fallin'. 
Moon's golden realms hear both man and wolf, faithful loud callin'.

R. J. Lindley,
Feb 2nd, 1973
Poetry-- Subject Nature, Wolf, Amerian Indian And Injustice...

Old note: My mother's father was Native American. I gained
great insight into the life of Native Americans from words
he spoke to me. Since his death, I have read many books that
gave even more historical knowledge on the subject. Finding 
the ones that did not deliberately cover up the savage acts
carried out by "whites" against Native Americans.  




Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2018


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My Kind

I will not dim my light so you can shine I will not still my voice so you can scream I will not quench my blaze so you can burn I will not hush my thoughts so you can dream I will not stifle truth so you can preach I will not slink away so you can claim I will not be demure so you can boast I will not bend my head so you can blame I will not hide my thirst so you can drink I will not stave my wants so you can eat I will not follow, just to let you lead I will not stand so you can take my seat Equality is what I’m striving for The days must end when men demand to rule My voice will not be silenced; all will hear: A woman is a blessing, not a tool She is the beauty of bejeweled night She is the wonder of the dawning day Her wisdom she can temper with her might She is the one to show Compassion's way You do her wrong when you suppress her song When callus hearted-mind sees but her form Her virtue is her gentle loving soul Tranquility is she when not the storm I will not be untrue to gendered grace to fit the manly notions of your mind I’ll speak and love and laugh, and yes, I’ll thrive! With pride I’ll see you bow to womankind Eileen Manassian


Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2017


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Too Much Sadness for Me

there's too much sorrow...
don't you know
we are all going to die
a starting point always beckons a finish
sooner or later
no matter how
peaceful or painful
that final moment may be
you see...
it will come
for you
for me

There's too much sorrow
war
betrayal
so much I have seen
sickness sapping away
the mother-daughter moments
meant for me...
She struggled bravely
to set my fears free
But MS wouldn't let her be
My Mama left me

There is too much sorrow
the pain of being unloved
of trying to fit in
of trying to play the game
of success and fame
it all comes at a cost
so much is lost...
sacrificial moments
meant for family

There is too much sorrow
refugee misery
nowhere to be
no home
no destiny
just abject poverty
hearts left hungry
for a love
that the world
will not let them see

There is too much sorrow
tonight my heart is heavy
I'm tired of goodbyes
I'm tired of trying to fit in
I'm tired of pretense
I'm tired of...me

There is too much sorrow
Eyes are blurring
I can't see
the last lines I'm meant to write
Too tired to fight
Survival more than it's pumped up to be

Sleep....obliviousness of a dream
sweet it seems to me
you see...
There is too much pain
So write...
write for me
of happy
of make believe
of heaven
and eternity
of no pain
or misery
of no abuse
or fatality
of no tears
or cruelty
no more death
for you
no more death
for me
can't you see?

Write of happy...

Please, there is too much sadness here
for me....

Eileen Manassian Ghali


Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2015


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The Brave

The brave are more than ones who battle on
in fields of warfare, showing valor true
The brave are more than those that wars have won
There is a truth that must enlighten you:

the ones who fight the battles in their minds
who daily strive to keep their fears at bay
the ones who chose to draw away the blinds
and force themselves to face another day

the ones who have the courage to keep sane
are ones who need the medals to reveal
that they are striving hard to deal with pain
though they are taught their battles to conceal

The brave are those who struggle to survive
They are the ones who fight to stay alive!

Eileen Manassian





Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2016


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kaleidoscope

through a tiny lens
held firmly with hands
eyes gaze in awe..

with a simple twist
colours explode harmoniously
bright, sparkling,blinding..

the colours are stunning
so vivid, so alive
with truth as in life..

this ever changing vision
is but broken glass shards
not whole, not complete..

simple, plain, tiny pieces
they don't fit, they don't belong
different shades, different sizes..

fragmented, swirling on command
no direction,they stop; at one's touch
and through this seemingly disconnect..

therin lies their beauty
for these tiny glistening pieces
imperfect jewel tone shades, dance; together..

revealing the essence of life,
humanity and all who breathe
for they gloriously join; naturally..

to inspire joy, excitement, wonderment
the green piece could be a used wine bottle
tiny violet piece from a castaway vase..

regardless of their origin
these magnificant, illuminating pieces
unite as one and magically dance..

with truth as in life
beauty is as beauty does
fusing together, naturally, effortlessly..

kaleidoscope..

broken shards now glistening jewels
the spirit of every man, woman and child
is part of this most magical creation..

for every size, shape and gorgeous hue
is us; in every race, age & size
coming together, to create, to inspire..

tunnel vision seamlessly vanishes
as eyes are opened; captivated
at the wonderment, joy and harmony of..

becoming one; beautifully and with faith..

kaleidoscope.


Copyright © Lynn Marie | Year Posted 2006


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My Heart Beseeches An Answer In Collaboration With Robert J Lindley

(Part One- She Asks)

I awakened slowly stretching my body, then into a yawn,
My sleep filled mind remembers you left before the dawn!

Reaching beside me feeling only coolness of my sheet,
Alone now the rain outside hits the ground in rhythmic beat.
The fresh cool breeze whispers through my open window,
Catching billowing curtains into a back and forth show.

Caressing like cold dead fingers upon my naked skin,
Traveling back in time which I know I had let you in.
Our words danced in tango style, each one held a line
Glasses raised to our lips, we sipped succulent red wine.

I awakened slowly stretching my body, then into a yawn,
My sleep filled mind remembers, you left before the dawn!

Soon after we laid together, right here on my bed,
Oh why didn't I stop us then, to turn you away instead?
Now I lay here thinking, as an ache overwhelms my chest,
Gave you what I swore no more, gave you my very best.

Wishing for an answer,on this cold, wet, cloudy day.
How much more my bleeding heart will have to pay?
For allowing this intrusion into my life again I did dare,
Yet I have no answer, of how much or even if you care.

I awakened slowly stretching my body, then into a yawn,
My sleep filled mind remembers you left before the dawn!
~~ ~~ ~~
(Part Two- He Answers)

How could I, truly be deserving of such an angel as you
When fear of that impossibility hit so hard, away I flew!

My darling, fear not, my racing away has a most just cause
I woke that morn, your angelic beauty gave me pause.
For my life had for decades fallen into the deepest dark
Then my finding you and our first night together left its mark.

As I looked in the mirror and saw me lying next to you
My heart almost burst, knowing it was too good to be true.
There you were, naked and your alluring beauty sublime
I thought of my past, how if it hurt you, would be a crime!

How could I, truly be deserving of such an angel as you
When fear of that impossibility hit so hard, away I flew!

That morn, I gave my sleeping beauty a sweet kiss
Trying to grab more of what I would soon so dearly miss.
For I could not bear to bring into your sweet life my pains
Or darkness of the dreams emerging from my past stains!

For you see, long ago, for another beauty I once shot a man
I was so crazy in love and thought that was a great plan.
Then our night, soft kisses restored, your gentle touch fired me up
I found my saving paradise, complete with its full golden cup!

How could I, truly be deserving of such an angel as you
When fear of that impossibility hit so hard, away I flew!
 
Brenda Chiri and Robert J. Lindley collaboration..
Date:10/26/17



Copyright © Brenda Chiri | Year Posted 2017


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One World

Love is not a color,
No hue, neither a race.
All of our blood is the same, 
That runs deep within our veins.

If we could lift up each other,
And know that we all care.
If we help our sisters and brothers,
There's a bond that we'll share.








©2013 Honestly JT


Copyright © Honestly J.T. | Year Posted 2013


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Toddler Sky

-Toddler Sky-

Down where I sleep, 
You hold me, embrace my every way
The Marks up on my skin
You caress, taking away from the ugliness

Watching the simple breath, when I breathe
Breaking the ice, soothing my inner peace
A sweet spray across the paleness in my limbs
Holding the warmth, I've been loved throughout my life.
From picking up sticks to the walking stick
My loving dear I know you will always be there
A few wheel chairs, when broken bones mend
You know my every cure*
Walk with me across the hall
Through the oldness, and the boldness of every color in the sky
Thank you for taking me as I am
A light twinkle' every time I feel the colors of the rainbow drip
Now a newborn takes his form
In you I find the strength to stretch my arms and reach for every star

When happy moments fail, 
I embraced the colors I found in you
I make out every tree, and wonder why and how?
I close my eyes to imagine the fun of chasing fireflies
Tonight I'm keeping my prayers simple, cute, and innocent
I will count sheep and search for sweet lullaby dreams
Smiling like a 3 year old this very moment, 
You think I'm having "Baby Blues."
My loving dear, thanks for having patience,
Painting my way down a toddlers sky
Every time  "P M S" hits

~SKAT~


Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2013


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A Reminder: To Be


Those of you who have a unique voice
filled with vision that paints outside the lines 
of over-regulated cadence and rhyme,
I implore you to continue exploring a core
that is fearless in writing against the grain of convention—
fearless friction is sandpaper that helps to perpetually re-invent 
yourself, by smoothing your raw passion into a timeless chair 
in which people of the future will sit in
while digesting your words. And their brows will crease, 

their eyebrows will arch into gates
where sighs of enlightenment will pass through,
for they are reading poetry that has not lost its novelty—
nor is it mimicry: a despondent, washed-out version
of 20 million other identically tired poems 
already written and read.

If you feel yourself being sucked down by the undertow 
of homogenization, fight against the current, drag yourself onto shore,
and let sunlight percolate pure word-intentions from the nucleus 
of your ancient, psalm-writing ancestry.

Your ancestors left behind DNA building blocks:
disciplinary examples and practices 
with which to construct mitochondrial drift
that bridges together the past and future
into a runway for you to lift-off from
after the training wheels have been removed,
to gain a bird's eye view of what was,
and what will always be sacred 
as long as you don't build a mynah nest in it, 
once truth's marrow is tasted from its winged divine inspiration
that soars above carbon-copy complacency.

To always be the freedom that manifests your luminous originality.




September 18th, 2013




+/-


Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner | Year Posted 2013


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Still I Run

I race for summer's setting sun
as crimson bleed the alder leaves
and still I run.  And still I run;

my rival, Time, is yet undone.
Past pyramids of flaxen sheaves
I race for summer's setting sun

across the low unbroken run.
Each cow out in the pasture grieves
and still I run.  And still I run.

In late September’s crisp blazon
my heart to fragile hope now cleaves;
I race for summer's setting sun.

With slaughter of the calves begun
I fled from 'neath the killing eaves
and still I run.  And still I run.

Our time on earth is under gun.
My burning chest now breathless heaves;
I race for summer's setting sun
and still I run.  And still I run.*


*I expanded this from my triolet, “Setting Sun”.
10/24/17


Copyright © Dale Gregory Cozart | Year Posted 2017


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Invisible Colors



About our first parents,
here’s something beautiful to know
Adam was created perfect,
and from out of him, Eve followed
God said to His Son:
You and I, We are One 
Lets make them like us,
in Our image color them invisible
Give them one rainbow soul,
two spirits with hearts of gold
But the most precious gift of all,
God gave them a skin of faith
So they could live under the Son,
bathing in the bright rays 
of His love, free and unafraid
Using invisible colors,
is how Adam and Eve were body painted
With a faith paintbrush,
their children were meant to be picture perfect sainted
God made us all in His image — 
beautiful invisible colors
God said teach your children this one thing:
to love one another
God said to Adam and Eve:
your children are all sisters and brothers
For I have blessed them, you see,
to look like My Son and Me — 
Pure and holy invisible colors
We were meant to be fruitful and abound,
growing in love for one another
And I will confess right now:
We are One ... everybody connected to each other
And I love you and you and you,
for you are all my sisters and brothers
Looking good in our spiritual skin:
beautiful invisible colors ... 
beautiful invisible colors


Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2017


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My Pledge of Allegiance

"My Pledge of Allegiance"
by:  Eric L. Boddie

I Pledge Allegiance To The Word
Because there is no greater sound I've ever heard
I Pledge Allegiance To The Son
Because His Sacrifice Allows me Earthly Life And Beyond
I Pledge Allegiance To The Father
Because He Loves me better than any other
I Pledge Allegiance To The Holy Ghost
Because His Level Of Power Is By Far The Most
I Pledge Allegiance To His Love
Because It Protects me from danger and things thereof
I Pledge Allegiance To His Teachings
Instead of the one who is doing the Preaching
I Pledge Allegiance To His Every Commandment
It takes both, Reading And Prayer, To Understand It
I Pledge Allegiance To His Work
Even if it leads me to where evil lurks
I Pledge Allegiance To His Holy Fight
Because i truly want to bask in Heaven's Light
I Pledge Allegiance To His Faith
Because nothing is more Beautiful than His Grace
No flag, no nation, no constitution....I know so many will say that is odd
But I am just one of His Children, my Only Allegiance Is To God



Copyright © eric boddie | Year Posted 2018


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Always Yours

The handwriting became darker,
And I imagined your hands pressing upon the page,
Wavering whether to write your thoughts or not
Soon, sure, the wavering became conviction,
And in your mind you decided to write,
“Always yours”

Tears sprung from my eyes,
As convicted as your burdened letters

I condemned myself to love again,
How cruel the ink seeped into my marrow
To flitter and flutter upon mere words on a page
Words with promises, confessions, and affection
I could barely read through the gasps of my soul,
The screaming of my mind, and the bleeding of my heart
“Always yours” . . .

Do not inflict me like the plague, oh destroyer!
Do not soon crawl into these open arms
That would not dare push you away
I will love you till the days swallow me whole,
Till the light in you bellows cold with indifference! 

We are words, my corresponding dear, 
Deepening upon a page about to break
We are words, nothing more,
That are always, 
Always Yours 


Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2015


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Do Men Cry

Are men supposed to show their strength
denying doubts and fears?
Should they pretend to play it cool
concealing all their tears?

When things build up would weakness urge
temptation to give in;
should one betray signs of defeat
because of hurt within?

There is a line where macho ends,
it’s there for all to see.
The mask is ripped and make-up melts;
emotions are set free.

For men are at their strongest point
when they are free to cry.
Why must a man lose confidence
when tears spill from the eye?

For men in touch with feelings are
a treasure trove to find.
Each woman’s dream and deep desire’s
to find one of the kind!

A man who’s strong enough to show
he has a caring side...
well, such a man is sure to be
a woman’s joy and pride.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Collaboration between Paul Callus and Eileen Manassian
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2016


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We Worked Long Enough


I laugh out loud
every time I hear a politician say,
that the best way to enrich a black person's life,
is to give them a job
Give them some work to do
Labor is the way out of poverty ---
are you kidding me!
They got the nerve,
telling a black person in America
they need to work
Put the shoulder to the grinding wheel,
get to know the sweaty brow feel
Getting employed will solve most of
black people's problems, politicians say
Hard work will bring an honest dollar our way
But I got a problem
with that four-letter word: work
I am bold enough to speak for my people
on this urgent matter
Telling us we need to work some more,
in order for things to get better for us
No! We worked long enough
Four hundred years is a long enough time, don't you think
We been working ever since
we got off those slave ships that didn't sink
We worked hard
     at keeping our eyes and voices low
We worked hard
     at pretending that we're slow
We worked even harder
     at grinning and gritting our teeth
But we worked the hardest
     at not getting lynched on a tree
Listen to me:
This is the children of slaves reality,
the living in America experience
of feeling the societal lash daily
Of being looked down on,
of being spurned and frowned upon
Politicians say they helped us all they could,
that entitlements didn't do no good
And only work can get us to where we need to be ...
sounds a lot like old-time slavery to me
No! We worked long enough
Four hundred years is a long enough time, I would think
We been working ever since
we got off those slave ships that didn't sink
We worked hard
     at not getting pecked to death by Jim Crow
We worked hard
     at trying to survive under the poverty line below
We worked even harder
     at not telling the oppressor everything we know
But we worked the hardest
     at letting our unchained KKKourage show
Yes! We worked long enough ...
now it's time for us to rest
Will you pay us back for that?


Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2017


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Bloody Feet Upon the Slab

That tiny pause to skirt the truth, half-reals you'd paraphrase,
The subtle softly spinning gyre of cunning in your gaze,
Vague reflections from your skin - a shedding, sheltering plaque,
All concerned syllables sent swiftly bouncing off your back. 

Ever adrift on fiction's lost sea, never blown to shore,
Too late I saw your hidden thirst - too easy to ignore
Evasion and avoidance - thus was piloted your ship,
You'd dance around, not run aground - you gave us both the slip.

I failed your buried, rooted pain, I missed the reddened tracks,
All facts would step aside your rime of displaced parallax,
I slighted each secluded wound, the false-trod thoroughfare,
So ends a life of wary silence, cloaked mutely in despair.

No one knew you as I did, my reward there sadly sure,
I'd like to think away now, yet the hard truths are too pure,
Blinded, perhaps, by my own fear, I let out line for years,
And all my stock of forward time now fills with bloody tears.

Upon my closing sight of you, muzzled words within your eyes,
Your final hour released you not - you'd walked too long on lies.


Copyright © Doug Vinson | Year Posted 2017


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Moment of Truth


I was walking with two friends of mine,
when we saw a woman
who was tall, beautiful and black
They spoke lewd to her,
so she didn't speak back
In their rejected anger,
they cursed her in a cruel, mean tone
That's when I interceded,
and said leave the poor woman alone
My two friends looked at me
like I was some kinda traitor
That day we parted ways,
there would be no more days of see ya later

In a moment of truth,
will you stand up for the truth
Or will you back down,
and keep your mouth shut

It's moments like those
that reveal what manner of person you are
Will you be naked or clothed,
will your spirit be dark,
or will it shine like a star

Nobody ever said friendships are forever,
not when you have to compromise
your integrity in a matter

In a moment of truth,
don't keep your mouth closed
Let your voice roar
like a lion, strong and bold


Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2016


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Bit Of Truth And Wisdom, Found In Old Age

Bit Of Truth And Wisdom, Found In Old Age

At that age wisdom says life is a joke
consider blindness of other poor folk.
Stop to ponder why on earth we exist
you may just find giving on that big list.

To live well, love hard and thus procreate
easy to see easier to relate.
Living life together with your soulmate
should be a part of everybody's Fate!

Finding life is not about what you got
should be holding solid, number one spot
Tis more about life lived well and deeper
with one you found, knew to be a keeper

If long life, happiness is your great aim
if reaching not for it, you are to blame!

Robert J. Lindley, 1-16-2017
Sonnet



Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2017


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Of Perfect Beauty



And say unto Tyrus, O thou that art
situate at the entry of the sea, which
art a merchant of the people for many
isles, Thus saith the Lord GOD; O Tyrus,
thou hast said, I am of perfect beauty
— Ezek. 27:3


Libertas,
she who is of perfect beauty
Roman goddess,
situated at the entry of the sea

You hold a torch
that burns a cold flame
From the South Pole to the North,
everyone on Earth knows your name

America,
America
She reincarnated your ancient fame

America,
America
Her prideful beauty became her shame

Libertas,
the fame of your beauty everyone wanted to see
In the presence of a goddess,
all people from every nation worldwide wanted to be

You hold the dovetail tablet
that inscribes the progress of liberty
From the North Pole to the South,
they flock to the land that stands in the midst of the seas
All hoping to reach your shores, dreaming to be free

America,
America
You now reject those who seek haven within your buxom border

America,
America
The Holy Scriptures thus declare: Set your divided house in order

Libertas,
graven goddess greeting poor souls 
seeking the bond of assimilation with one another

America,
merchant queen selling plastic rainbows,
you look just like Tyrus, your ancient twin brother

Your picture perfect beauty
is rapidly fading away
You always took pride in your nudity,
now an ugly portrait resembling an aging Dorian Gray







Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2017


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View from the prism of 'ism'

socialism  communism  fascism   despotism
  buddhism  catholicism  hinduism  zoroastrianism  
territorialism  colonialism   imperialism   expansionism
positivism  relativism  behaviorism  existentialism 
  adventurism  escapism  negativism  nihilism
puritanism   fanaticism   extremism  terrorism
   sexism  chauvinism  ultra-nationalism  jingoism
hedonism  epicureanism ~ stoicism  asceticism
   patriotism  heroism  altruism  idealism
activism  idealism  individualism  exceptionalism
  atheism  deism  monotheism   paganism
optimism  pessimism  cynicism  romanticism
  atheism secularism  humanism  utopianism  
hypnotism  mysticism  exorcism  surrealism 
   ~ and what if there were a schism in each and every 'ism!'



Copyright © Gershon Wolf | Year Posted 2018


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Truth - Collaboration with Chris Green

Truth is but an empty thing a word that twists and turns Where some people say it sings others claim it burns And when it seems it’s spoken so many will believe While some will take it as a lie in thoughts that they conceive "I speak the truth", "I speak the truth" You can hear all around but everyone speaks differently So where can it be found? Wherever you may find it there still will be a few Who do not like the truth you say and toss it back at you Catch it, bend and smash it then throw the word away Compassion, friendship, gentleness Those are the words that stay A true friend will believe you without the need for proof For friendship knows no boundaries when it is built on truth *** Augustus 11, 2017 Copyright © Chris Green and Darren White


Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2017


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Epiphany


The first crystal drop of realization shatters your glassy surface and radiates the idea outward in reflective ripples growing in pristine concentric circles with the newness of being thought of for the very first time.. one drop follows another in a thoughtful cascade and a thrilling commingling of contemplative resonance skimfully intersects on a liquescent wavelength - ..like a collection of Chinese linking rings smoothly passing through each other.. exchanging enchantment and casting their own brand of magic in lucid fluidity across the suffused surface of your soulful depths; that in this most precious of moments revels in revealing the answers you seek. Susan Ashley July 28, 2018


Copyright © Susan Ashley | Year Posted 2018


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Poets of a New Dawn



Taking a long ink dip in a desert pond,
rejected drake words
ripple echoes in the wilderness: Tread with care!
Dreadnought thoughts silicate crystalized,
glass menagerie opens to a darkening sky
Wing-tipped metal muse raised to the foreboding air,
infusing liquid lightning to the bard birds
Watching intently as the anti-gravity atoms abscond,
executive electrocution is on a delay timer
Prose avian sentries see
Splitting anti-social charges
seep into the hate-soaked, polluted atmosphere
These momentous crisis changes,
poets of a new dawn articulate so very clear
Tho’ labeled by a scornful society
as being conscientious ugly ducklings,
the fear factor in the swirling wind
keeps increasing it’s whirl war buffeting
Incoming V-formation of ionized mallard birds
dropping kinetic malevolent words
Stork deliver radiation babies — 
Blackhawk moving targets that glow
with surgical stealth Caesarian precision
Whilst the designated survivors 
be the fleeing flock having open duck ears
Poets of a new dawn
continually pen agitate 
strong current ripples in the desert pond
Letting their U2 ugly quill mirage liquidity
dose infect the minds of those 
who syringe swan dive in beautiful disbelief 


Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2018