Best Unethical Poems
I'm a message poet,
with a diamond pointed pen
I crack the hidden safes,
and take a honest look within
Things people wanna keep secret,
dark things they don't want coming to light
Corruption sealed in steel containers,
safe from any purview or oversight
Let the blood from my ink of truth
seep into their secret crevices
Shake the metal boxes of lies to the hard floor,
then crack open the impenetrable sealed doors
Exposing all the bartered deceit and appraisal sins,
unethical agreements and ill-gotten possessions
When letting the people know
where all of their hard earned money went
The cost of liberty, always,
is ink well spent
Is He watching?
When my tongue thirsts for sin,
Gamble my faith with filth,
When my tongue spills its worst,
My ears long to be filled with corruption,
When my fingers linger to steal,
My feet tread over and along faults?
Is He watching,
My unrepentant soul thrive?
Growing more in strength and glory?
Hardening it’s shield against good,
Gambling what is right and wrong,
Yet making the choice to dwell in the wrong?
Feeding itself with shades of deceit?
Is He watching,
When I am unrepentant but care less?
When I don’t consider His feelings?
Strive to please me rather than Him?
Meddle in the pleasures of earth?
Dump off the cares of my Christian race?
But I know the truth but become blind to it?
Is He watching,
When I return spite for His care?
Neglect His expensive price of love?
On a daily routine visit the gallow of sin?
Clad a false Christianity in my personality,
Yet judge others at the slightest fault? Still nurturing the hypocrite I protect.
Is He watching,
My unrepentant soul thrive?
My unquestionable strategies of pride,
When I stay balanced in the kingdom of the enemy?
Stain my soul constantly in mire,
Even when the truth hits me hard.
Brings to my realization how wrong I am?
Is He watching?
When I lay finally to my last rest,
And stand before Him to be judged?
When my soul headed to Him is rebuked?
When my deeds in my face is reproduced?
How my own vanity has chosen for me doom?
So helpless to reality I stand.
Is He watching,
My guilt wager my strength as I spare not tears?
My offense like chains stroke my existence,
Hangs my living in the face of death?
When my past with pride divulge my wrongs?
Plastered with faulty stains I forever I’m gone,
Lost to the sins I once chided unethical.
Eyes of an Eagle
If I had the eyes of an eagle,
And the strength of wings to
fly,
I'd put a camera on my proud
chest,
And off to DC, I would fly.
My fuel is my rage against
all out to destroy this great nation,
With breaking news, hideous
lies and false allegations...
America!! Berated daily in
international publications!
Against all God believing men and women,
Using that meaningless term,
"Conversation", as some universal justification.
It's a word to validate all things unethical.
Like infanticide, simply twisted, to mean....
"Oh, it's just medical."
A murdered child's warm blood splashing~
on the icy cold, gleaming marble floor.
Her tiny fists clenched in rage as Mommy
walks out the butcher's door!
I cry, "no more, no more!"
Panagiota Romios
2/28//2019
I challenge you to a rhetorical
to prove me wrong else be unconventional
‘bout a problem that’s gone systematical
everyone’s so radical and cynical
once burnt all swear to now be rational
petrified to be poetical and get physical
relationships always problematical
they start off superficial hardly practical
usually nonsensical and contradictional
end up analytical emotional or psychological
enigmatical fanatical or plain lethargical
sometimes as wild as satanical
yet sure enough it’s almost typical
it’s really absurdly comical
the inevitable becomes the eventual
you go and fall and it’s unconditional
starts off all angelical and sensational
turns out illogical and territorial
often becomes tyrannical
immoral and unethical
then cryptical and diabolical
there has to be something remedial
it’s just too tragical
how we now prefer to be online virtual
we might as well be asexual
because there’s no sense being sensual
we’re all too freak’n skeptical
to believe in the magical and supernatural
do you have a comeback what’s in your arsenal
or are you just too visceral
or too darn busy being metaphysical
AP: 2nd place 2020, Honorable Mention 2022
Submitted ton March 5, 2018 for contest QUICK FIRE RAPID RHYME sponsored by BRENDA CHIRI - RANKED 4TH
Oh what fun it is to watch the surreptitious actions
of the globalist elite,
And the open mouthed innocent ignorance of
their following sheep.
Feeding the pseudo enlightened masses
An Epulaeryu of lies,
on their table labeled “comfort zone”,
readily digested as alibis,
courses as to why the unethical repetitively
Nation crashing status quo is eeriely historical,
and now the state of current events is indeed
historically, an ominous, telling.. Future Oracle.
.
~~~~~~~~
The sick elephant, perished at sunset!
Headline news, tears, anger, outrage and scorn.
A worldwide sadness, her baby just born!
Monies were collected, protests in the streets.
Medallions with her picture worn,ah, hearts so torn!
~~
A kitten walks the street alone, we save her!
We scream, "Where is humanity's soft heart?"
Organizations formed then, for feral cats.
We pour huge funds into shelters at once.
But whay of the unborn human, about to be
killed?
Sleeping, softly in their mother's warm womb?
Little fingers, sweet little toes, about to die?
Our hearts, souls, eyes, do we in denial close.
Millions upon millions, will indeed today, die.
Never to see sun, moon, stars or bluest sky.
Taken by methods too cruel to speak.
Angel babies killed in abortion mills.
The world weeps not a tear for human loss, still!
For the unborn, all, yes I will take a stand.
In a world that adores trees more than the
family of man.
A ghoulish thought, human life surrendered.
A baby is not a bad tooth to remove by any
Governments monies, freely tendered.
Sing not to me, that you love humanity!
Nor of world peace, when our own kind we kill.
Yes, aware man wants to this world control.
This world is not yours, it belongs to God.
What good, this verse, in a so very cold world?
Why! So you dare use fetal cells,I ask why?
To use them in a vaccine, you drool for?
Their cells floating in your selfish bloodstream?
We pen about the evils of truly great men?
We hum and talk to Muses, how very!!
We buried God, we loathe free nations.
Globalism only, downing, all the rest.
Then wonder, why all the worldly unrest?
Laughing our lives away, a great escape?
Reality, no, never on our plates!
Good, unborn people destroyed,oh how we do cheer.
Unethical, political thieves and snakes we adore.
As we quill, on God's sunny shores.
1/22/2021
~3~
National Sanctity of Life Day
January 22, 2021
President Donald J Trump
Thank You!
This day to respect the unborn~
Cancelled by the current resident
of The White House on Day One.
So be it!
I'm a sea captain!
Don't need a microphone !
I watched you take a back spin
With the skills I've honed
You pre picked your pansy pearl
Thought I didn't know it?
You presented your gargantuan
giggly girl
But didn't expect the Floating Poet
To the fart scoundrel of snoot port
Who saw the need was dire
Had the art counsel of Beaufort
Promise 2nd and 3rd to out of town
liars
(along with money and nice hotel
rooms)
It was a nice thing you did for her
The unethical proposition
She was the winner the judges
concur
But it was a liars competition
these are the last words you'll hear
From me there's no protest
But I'd like to see appear
An honest liars contest
Since it had nothing to do with luck
Let these words forever harass
cause I think you all suck
and you can take this cheap kazoo
you gave me and shove it up
your................
Just shy of eighteen,
A girl with glistening eyes of dark chestnuts
Complimenting deep umber hair.
Observes life as it passes by minutes.
The classmate who is genuinely funny.
Her laugh echoes,
Etching its sound into minds of anyone who listens
A girl who lights up a room, remembered with halos.
Memories with friends and family now irreplaceable
Filled with laughter and love.
Living in the moment thinking “that could never happen to us”
Social media posts suddenly ending in a broken heart and dove.
A girl who had ambitions and a bright future,
Dreaming of her kids’ gender and names.
Twin boys, Jayden and Jordan
Growing up, playing with flames.
A normal sleepover with friends
On a cold January evening.
Filled with nothing but happiness
Unknowing of the events to take place the next morning
Guilt finding those who were there.
Wondering if something could have been done
Before the girl who had the world at her palms got in her car.
But they were asleep and would wake up stunned.
For the one who had an impact on many
Would no longer be here in the physical.
Her memory stays strong in those who loved her
But a girl at a young age losing her life is unethical.
The life of the party
Except the party ended too soon.
The courteous, caring girl
Now somewhere near the moon.
The One Who Touched My Heart Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
If they use, they say they don’t abuse.
If they get high, they say it’s a lie.
If they want it legal, they say it’s medicinal.
I believe they know, deep down in their soul…
that smoking pot is wrong. It’s a sinful act,
something that brings about the unethical, the immoral…
all those erroneous and dishonest thoughts and deeds.
Smoking pot, even if it is legal, is something that brings…
unsound thoughts and inappropriate behavior,
little ideas that assure one of failure and breakdown,
everything that is catastrophic and disastrous.
The crash that comes about is worse than the fight…
to keep living life without the craving for a drug,
the reliance on a weed that is green and simply feeds…
the horrors and nightmares from a mind that succeeds…
at being needy and dependent, addicted to a smoldering seed.
Global Poetry - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Debbie Guzzi
Burning bodies, staring eyes.
Smoking chimneys, human cries.
Gas chambers for Jews to die.
Frozen corpses piled up high.
Electric wires inflicting pain.
Mass starvation, inhumane.
Old aged people, mental cases
Skin and bone with human faces.
Amputations, detrimental.
Unethical, experimental.
Too weak to stand, debilitated.
Left to die, emaciated.
Open graves deceased or not
Decomposing humans left to rot.
Undignified but freedoms there.
The stench of death was everywhere
Dentists practicing extractions
Gold fillings became distractions.
Unfed, unclothed, discrimination.
The master plan, extermination.
Eradication of a race.
Genocide, mankinds disgrace.
The Nazi party pursued their aim.
As the world averted eyes in shame.
10 / 15 / 2016.
Sitting at the very top of my closet,
a small cedar chest, with treasures I did deposit.
It was Christmas gift my sweet cousin gave,
for years it has sat there, as if in a grave!
With broken hinges and a defective lock,
I will now open it; take reflective walk!
Amongst my treasures, is my grandma’s script;
written May fifth, Nineteen-seventy-six.
It must have been sent just before she died.
Because that was the year, my daddy cried!
Withered, torn, and barely legible,
to part with it, seems unethical.
Some special notes from Marie,
That date back to eighty-three.
She and I were the best of friends,
and we kept up with all the trends.
Eighties hairstyles: yea, we did rock,
To ACDC, and not ever to Bach!
A faded card from a stripling lad,
my high school sweetheart, I must add!
A ticket stub from a real Pecos rodeo,
I suppose this was kept for braggadocio!
A red toy convertible Volkswagen bug,
My dream vehicle, when I was young and smug!
In this wonderful stack of silly riches,
A valentine note puts me in stiches.
Penned by my husband’s masculine hand,
he expresses his love sure is grand.
And that is why he feels me up,
I think I’ll save this loving cup!
There is a chart I do recall,
It prepared me for something small.
A little prayer written down,
nine months later she came around!
With a baby girl I was blest,
As she feed upon my breast!
A Western Union telegram,
I took a second to exam.
The name written in black ink,
is to me my missing link!
Her presence always made me calm,
She lives heaven, she is my mom!
You asked me what’s in my treasure chest,
precious memories; who would have guessed?
Thanks for this time of reminiscing,
Oh’ how this life is sure worth living!
It might be time to toast some champagne,
To the future, and to memory lane!
A xerox copy of a species has become more
prevalent in two-thousand seventeen-
There are different processes used to
produce a genetically identical biological entity.
Cloning sheep is the most common form of
duplicating genes, cells and tissues-
but there is so much more to this procedure,
so much unknown science and unethical issues.
Natural and artificial cloning are both types
of doubling organisms, mammals and plants,
and so many people are against these procedures,
they riot and protest; they rave and they rant.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A book was written in between the rough
times of World War one and World War two-
“A Brave New World” was a controversial
glimpse in to the future, but tell me, was it
really true?
There was an institution playing an essential
role in the artificial reproduction,
and social conditioning of the world's population
based on sex and soma consumption.
Out of control with unprotected sex and
brainwashing situations,
they tampered with the natural way of life,
tested the actual meaning of creation.
Humans were being created and conditioned
according to the system of this society,
and a man named John known as
“The Savage” believed in morals with propriety.
He was against the orders of this new
way of life that was dramatically created,
and made it well known that this
human cloning was abhorred and hated.
After a riot, John resorted to
fighting against them with violence,
then was tormented and brainwashed
and lived moments of defiance.
He took soma and ended up having
wild sex as he was always against,
and to him this way of life was
despicable and didn’t make sense.
In the end, he took his life
repulsed by what he had done,
he had turned into a monster,
one he promised he wouldn’t become.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Human cloning is tampering with
the true meaning of natural creation,
and I hope in the future it never
becomes a common situation.
April 24, 2017
It’s an old story.
We were classmates, you and I,
And later became colleagues,
Working under the same roof.
We had more or less the same specialization.
Married in the same year.
Our children went to the same school.
So far so good!
Now the plot thickens, so to speak!
Once, if you remember,
The boss comes to you for help,
Specifically for helping his sibling
By doing her assignments,
Given to her by a (prestigious) university
Where you and I studied
And where I am a Tutor now—
A concurrent position held by me.
If I were you, I would say:
“Sorry, it’s unethical.”
Or, would tactfully excuse myself—
Maybe by telling a white lie.
Instead, you tell him a blatant lie:
“I’m not hot on the subject, I’m afraid.”
And you go further
And out of the way to add:
“But so and so is. He can help you, I’m sure.”
The boss comes to me straight,
And beating about the bush, tells me:
“Now that so and so is not hot on the subject…blah blah.
Now it is a Catch-22,
Which you have contrived:
If I say yes, I would be exposed
And if I say no, I would be in trouble—with the boss;
There would be no more bonhomie
Between the boss and the boy.
How clever you are!
Furious, I choose to say no—bluntly
And let me face the music.
But now I know that
You are a round character after all,
And an Iago at that.
I appreciate your motiveless malignity.
I shrug my shoulders and mutter:
“Let it be!”
Composed and posted on August 3, 2017
Well perhaps I should talk about foreclosure,
Let’s see, at first as it begins to happen
it feels like your life is being flattened
By a big ole dozer.
It is an especially dire , disheartening fate,
When one’s credit has been almost eight.
You’ve toiled hard and cleared the land,
remodeled the house in the course of seven years
and built a six stall barn by your own hand
with literally your blood sweat and tears.
Oh yes, the post and board fencing
In a Florida sun that’s unrelenting
And the two small rectangular decks
built by dumpster material specs!
Built a sixteen by sixteen air conditioned man cave,
Or it could be a dog house, I guess
If this week you’re not your wife’s fave…
anyway, a nice place, a hobby nest.
All this done while working for the man,
Scraping by with an upside down loan,
Gratefully doing the best you can…
Notwithstanding an occasional moan.
Had to work a few side jobs
To make ends meet.
Some for unethical slobs
But some folks were sweet.
We’ve grown a lot of veggies on our seven acre patch.
Home grown maters and string beans are hard to match.
Then after nine years the man leaves a message on your answering device..
“Found someone cheaper move your stuff out now.” …That ain’t so nice.
Well it’s been hand to mouth and now looks like we’ll lose this place,
Real upset at first but then, one just can’t keep up that pace,
At this age I’ll just roll with the punches ; of late, it’s come in bunches,
Now we’ve graduated from upset to feeling grateful,
God’s got a plan, much better plan; no sense in being hateful.
We’re looking forward to the best, in God’s hands we’ll leave the rest.
In this market, to all who have lost their home,
we’re with you, we understand, God bless you all and…
Shalom.
They're trying to decapitate the hood magistrates,
with fabricated reasons for treasons
It's the season that we evaluate and saturate,
All those who maneuver with a false mind,
Hood occupants are tee'd off like it's golf time,
So your game needs to be up to par
because to the jails and cemetaries
too many people have lost time,
The government is microscopic on the popular,
They possess new world order style binoculars,
They're building plantations and camps
in the form of penetentiaries
to house and be the spots for the,
Most corrupted, those abducted,
from society in a variety of flavors
because misbehavior leaves us stuck with,
A bunch of years on tiers to joint suspension,
We stay inchin' through tention,
and in this hard knock life comprehension,
we discover that we're losing
in their systematic intervention,
They know that the hypnosis from dollar bills will rule us,
In a cess pool of,
deceived individuals who tryin' to glisten like a jewelers,
Metals and precious stones,
Yes it's on,
We brave enough to test the throne,
The quest is long,
And we fight until our flesh and bones,
Dissolved into the earth
We were born to die so who's next to go,
Our lives are far from festivals,
We're surrounded by people
who perform acts that are unethical,
attempting to reach the pinnacle,
Because the hood fame will excite us,
We search for the cures to hunger-itis,
What we really need is the wisdom from the providers,
Who serves the mind food
because the government is killin' us,
They're sealin' our fate with each plate to get rid of us,
They lable us outlaws, so we turn southpaw
and fight for our rights from the left like P. Whittaker,
It's hard suvivng inside their GENOCIDAL SYLLABUS,
So before you get tossed like a javelin,
Stay sharp and keep your eyes and mind travelin'
While you're in the systematic maze
to keep your life from unravelin'.