Best Undisciplined Poems
Thirsting, thirsting. . . shriveled earth
suffocates in summer’s dearth,
yearns for rain clouds’ forthwith bursting:
Shriveled earth. . . thirsting, thirsting.
Browning, browning in their beds,
flowers parched hang low their heads.
Daffodils once bright are frowning
in their beds, browning, browning.
Dying, dying – every field,
withering, to fate must yield.
All the world is sadly crying,
every field – dying, dying.
.
Whirling, whirling, comes a wind
arid and undisciplined.
Stagnant heat, pent-up – unfurling,
comes a wind, whirling, whirling.
Whipping, whipping through each plain
(while ignored are prayers for rain),
final blows come swiftly ripping
through each plain, whipping, whipping.
Burning, burning. . . August’s lust
leaves us nothing but the dust.
To dust we soon may be returning:
August’s lust – burning. . . . burning.
An oldie poem of mine that fits my feelings on how the earth
is responding to mankind's disobedience. I hope the world
awakens to the evil around us in time to negate this fate.
For Unseeking Seeker's 'Soul Betrayal ' Contest
Mama, Sissy, Hun, Chris, Baby, Beloved, Crystol Lynn
Compassionate, empathetic, self-conscious, undisciplined
Brother or sister of: One sister, three brothers, and all fellow Christians
Lover of : My family, Reading, studying the Bible
Who feels: With my hands, with my whole heart, and with my soul
Who fears: The unknown, humiliation, my child being hurt
Who wishes to see: My grandchildren one day, my name on a published book I've written, more love than hate in this world
Resident of: Dille,WV
Last name: Hundley-Woods
Blood of my blood and bone of my bone
Who, formed in my womb, has become my home.
Scarlet threads from far back in time
Connected by, and desirous are, these ties that bind.
America, why did you stray from the old way.
A constitution put forth, the foundation of our land,
barely recognizable what was originally Jefferson's hand.
Tarnished and smudged by misinterpretation,
overindulgence and greed, to satisfy political,
judicial, and journalistic need.
Once majority rule, now bordering on ridicule,
the law of the land, ever changing, meeting demands,
of whoever takes a stand.
America, why did you stray, parents unable to discipline,
fear children undisciplined now rule, school in chaos,
students unruly, guaranteed to pass, unprepared for their future,
parents unsure, wish for the past, hope the next generation,
won't be like the last.
America, why did you stray, streets used to be a place to play,
neighbors knew one another, socialized every day,
doors left unlocked, nothing to fear, families stayed close,
helped one another, took care of mother.
Now drugs rule the day, hate and crime more common than play,
multiple locks symbolic of today, rarely talk to a stranger,
living in fear; life no longer precious, taken away,
day after day, the bloody count rises, a country in crisis,
victims pay, guilty appeal, courts give them the best deal.
Nobody protests for victims rights, put a murderer to death,
they scream all night.
America, why did you stray, hatred and bigotry alive
and well today, nationalities split, long for the old way,
when an American, was just an American, now hyphenation,
the accepted way.
America, why did you stray, once an industrial giant
you gave it away, too high a standard for industry to pay,
moved out of country, the new American way, unemployment,
poverty, homelessness rapidly increasing, ruined lives,
while billions are spent on so called allies.
America, why did you stray, what's written today,
barely address the wrongs building every day,
religion is accepted, God is not,
country divided, politically split,
presidential bashing provides journalistic wit,
hatred and bigotry, live for it.
America why did you stray, new chapters every day,
really a damn shame.
Before the lovely heat of an old stove,
a recluse sat; outside, a whining wind
had now begun to bluster as it wove
itself among the trees. Undisciplined,
it ripped remaining leaves from every limb
which trembled helplessly along its path.
It twisted through the woods with wicked vim,
upturned soft, quiet snowfall in its wrath,
unfurled snow’s swirling flecks upon a pond
of porcelain nearby a little shack
wherein one warmed himself as morning dawned.
As wind blew on, the grizzled lumberjack
sat whistling to its icy tone. . . . steadfast.
The madness of December cannot last.
I think that I shall pen a tome
an ink stained wandering lengthy poem
that questions all that is and ain’t
that holds you still like drying paint
A brood of words undisciplined
gutted fish no longer finned
thrashing on the sands of time
mouths agape in search for rhyme
I must confess I love the drama
so shun the use of every comma
and periods that single dot
an endless sentence never sought
to break its wave upon the beach
unveiling useless parts of speech
to drop a line and without fail
use the Thesaurus as its bail
yet I must cut this tome quite short
as I am running out of thought
and stories long and endless seem
to lure me to another dream
thus I apologize to those who muster
all their thoughts into a cluster
serve them to us on full platters
to let us know poetry matters
John G. Lawless
©7/26/2022
I don't know what you came to do
But I came to praise the Lord
To proclaim His anointing spirit
And with Him to get on board
Jesus came to preach the Gospel
To spread the holy word of God
To let the people know that
Oppressive behavior comes not from the heart
Today many people of color are suffering
Financially and legally as well
We're the most disadvantaged, the most killed
And the most incarcerated in jail
Our minds have been colonized
Our history diminished to naught
They call us savage and undisciplined
And say we can't be taught
Red lined, stopped & frisked
Under counted in the census of the nation
No federal dollars to our communities
As we're constantly under dissipation
I don't know what you came to do
But like Jesus i came to speak power and truth
For those issues that plagued his time
are now plaguing mine too
As there's nothing new under the sun
But we need to believe
That if we tap into our Holy Ghost power
There's nothing we can't achieve
To be the change in the world that we want to see
We must make it come about
By embracing the resurrection power of Christ
And with true faith to work it out
I don't know what you came to do
But I came to take a stand
For I've been delivered and empowered
By the Sacred Blood of the Son of Man
I don't know what you came to do
But I came to battle and fight
As I'll no longer sit in complacency
But challenge the status quo out right
To put the devil on notice
And give hope to the oppressed
To cause a shift in power
And get our circumstances addressed
I was created to be free
And not a prisoner of any man
For I'm a child of the Heavenly King
And For me He has a plan
As homelessness isn't my destiny
Nor is poverty my goal
And like Jesus I came to change the world
And take from the oppressors control
I don't know what you came to do
But I came spread the Gospel of Christ
To let my enemies know that I will now
Lead an abundant live
Yes the battle may be long and protracted
But I'm in for the long haul
As I don't know what you came to do
But I came to tear down strongholds
Rejected
Defected
A hopeless case
Lost, drifting
Vanished without a trace
Sorrowing, woeful
Mired in despair
Anguished
Frustrated
Tearing out fistfuls of her hair
Lonely, yearning
Trapped in solitude
Hoping for a pitying hand
To raise her up and help her stand
Desperate, on edge
Whirling this way and that
Frantic, caged
Like a hissing wild cat
Untamed, undisciplined
An unbroken horse
No kindness, no softness
Her spirit so unyielding and coarse
Is there any hope for her now?
To whom can she turn?
Who would want this rebel child...?
Who can lure her in from the wilds?
Perhaps there is nothing left for this witch
But the muzzle of a gun,
Pressed to her cheek,
The squeeze of a trigger
So obliging and meek
And the crack of the bullet
Splintering her skull
The closing eyes
The graceful fall
And then...
The bloody bittersweet end of it all
The phone lies still. The chamber dims its sight.
The walls grow wise with silence long denied.
I sit as one confessed unto the night,
while shadows watch me, curious yet kind.
My thoughts convene, unruly, undisciplined,
half-spoken truths that tremble as they rise.
Old griefs return, in borrowed skins reclined,
and hope arrives too softly to be wise.
I was born late into a weary age,
reared on alarms, on haste, on borrowed breath,
taught how to strive, how neatly play my stage,
not how to meet myself, uncloaked by depth.
O patient dark, thou askest no decree,
no polished truth, no courage neatly won.
Thou stayest while I falter honestly,
and name the selves I thought I had outrun.
So here I stand, no prophecy complete,
no certain end, no lesson neatly spun.
I breathe. I ache. I do not yet retreat.
I’m simply who I am, at twenty-three, alone.
. One
Man,
true man;
master of his house;
driver of his own carriage;
teacher of the secret knowledge;
enlightener who found the miraculous;
the breaker of men’s prisons and permanent sleep;
the opener of eyes (and I’s) – all octaves vibrate to his purpose –
ray of creation bringer, guide to God and releaser of truth to all who may see;
the merciless driver of self-discipline - whipping the beast until he sees,understands.
But not the enforcer. Never that. Just the teacher lighting the way for the undisciplined horde.
G. I. Gurdjieff is his own master; for his eyes are open. He sees the enneagram in all things.
He is crystalline force of will – one with all creation; seer, doer – he is purpose.
No mere man can do until he is the master of his domain.
All secrets lay asleep in a prison without master –
open your eyes! Master your master!
Recognize no-one is home;
wake-up, wake-up!
See your one
true self.
Man
One
I
© Kristin Reynolds 5 21 09
*Reposted while looking through my archives for a poem for chris's contest.
Dedicated to G.I. Gurdjieff: Ray of Creation, Enneagram, and in search of the miraculous
man.
Love, adventure, and newness reigned
I arrived for laughter, not tears
No camouflaged crime will remain
Disguised, like aches and pain I bear
Those permanent scars your hands served
While your heart fluttered by your move
Measured by undisciplined nerve
Seemed you conceived burden you choose
Black was not beautiful that night
God of the invisible spoke
Into existence, acts of might
To show, t'was love that you provoked
The innocence of a child lives
In all of us, yet; we suffer
New and old, for lack of knowledge
A newborn lets us see clearer
It doesn't matter who we see
As friend, or lover, or masked foe
The Source reveals all enemies
In ways... you've never seen before.
*
Virtue
Angelic compassion
Self-controlled, caring, understanding.
Integrity, ethicality; corruption, immorality
Undisciplined, neglecting, judging.
Demonic cruelty
Depravity
Winter snow came in with the restless wind
Falling from the dim night undisciplined
Lazily swirling fine lace.
Swept in by its downy grace
To the earth below like so sparkler twinned.
Ringing in the New Year as glasses raise.
A toast to new beginnings with fresh ways.
Keeping the hand gloved, out of
Cookie jars enticing love,
Sex-craze promises make those good old days.
12/28/2020
Winter Snow Or Ice Limerick Contest Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin
Worst Enemy
Finally identified my enemy
He has been there for years
Much to worry about
He is kind and won't let me be.
Undisciplined I guess
He knows my weakness
Uses them as a master
Like a game of chess.
Day after day
Night after night
A security system
Can’t keep him at bay.
The power to win
Cannot come from within
It has to be powerful
Enough to quit sin.
God, help me to dig deep
Change my will power
Give me wisdom
Help me sleep.
I am my worst enemy
I’m so weak against Satan
Give me the discipline to wear Your armor
Your armor can protect me.
As I sit in the den
Food, obesity is my sin
Followed by one other you know well
Thanks for forgiveness as I try again, Amen
A mast of goodness seen by the entire neighborhood,
even if the whole body stays beneath the waters;
producing rare sweet wine loved by all
as attitude calmly speaks giving more command to words.
Then possesses a temperament
which unleashes comets of mind softeners.
Just one being with similar make up to everyone else
yet covers a large district
with an umbrella of relationship and a shadow of good deeds.
Wildness and adventures begin to attract
and the temptation alone already tasting creamy and sweet.
Guard is let down to accept a rare stain
forgetting that such reputation commands great attention
and nothing can be hidden no matter how abstract its execution.
The juice turns bitter and fruit becomes rocky
that inner-radiating moon with an orbit of innocence
goes blank and dumped in a muddy lake.
The full mane covering an outstanding charisma
then faces the razor of shame to leave an open head to disgrace.
On such a new morality,
flies perch while its moisture stinks;
strong Irons then rust, surrounded by a general decay.
Redemption folds its arms to do nothing
while condemnation’s slaps are continuously in the increase.
Idiots sit and drink beer on this issue
scoffers and undisciplined minds become volunteer witnesses
then a great personality is dragged down by the rope of opportunists
to reversibly equate themselves to be unfit mates
while causing a fuss
through the noisy welcome from the corrupt class.
This is an indication of society’s affection towards wrong.
A proof that the effect of one bad intimidates that of good in millions
giving an exaggerated caption and devastating headline,
putting one in between suicide and strong will
but when calm is exhibited in crisis and strength in weakness;
humility and acceptance poured out to show imperfection is in all,
the forum is then set to bring out that radiance once again.
In a settlement far from barbaric ideologies
and an analogue system of thinking and beliefs,
climbing all the way up to once again possess that status
is achievable and possible because
dresses can’t be condemned by stains especially when washed.
Am I god's breath
Dawn's first breath caresses dew-wet glade,
yellow catkins quiver in spring's tender breeze,
eastern sunrise fuels passerine serenade.
Sulphur-yellow butterflies, black and golden bees
time for birth, new life, our earthly sphere decrees
of Erebus and Nyx
Impish flames dance in noontime light
morph to ghastly pirouetting demons leaping
everywhere, undisciplined they grave alight
red-hot searing daggers all-consuming.
Summer's purifying salamander breathing.
or earthly shibboleth?
Jewel blue; no longer skipping over rocks
the river, now near the end, is older, wiser,
gently drifting west towards the busy docks.
Autumn leaves of gold, like gentle boats, stir,
floating towards sunset's end of chapter.
Caught between the twixt;
The winter forest seems to our eyes dead.
Midnights new moon; the mother of the sky
mystic dewgleam-silver lights the seedbed
of decomposing earth, where fresh shoots testify
new life once more this land will occupy.
I'm Aether, or maybe six sixty-six.