Best Unfavorable Poems


Premium Member A Daisy Smile

Sometimes life plays upon my memories, 
with many unfavorable uncertainties
and I am not willing to give in, 
to those sandpaper worries again

That somehow like to scratch and tear, 
at everything I hold dear.

So I bring my ordinary thoughts to this place, 
as a sturdy hand guides my mind with grace.

Leaving a daisy smile etched upon my soul,
carefully holding my delicate heart and never letting go.


Featured Poem- 8/20/2023

The Calamity of Nepal Part 1

 
The Calamity of Nepal  part 1

Too fearful a tragedy
To be described in words
Heart wrenching cries, pierce the sky 
And  sadness in the form of tears
Dominates every face and every eye.  01

The descriptions of horrifying tragedy
From the mouth 
Of those,  who survived this horror story 
Penetrate the mind and heart, 
Deeper and deeper
Even of those who are luckily 
Thousands of miles away
From Nepal and this tragic site
Created by the unfavorable 
Winds of Nature.  02

It's time for entire world
To wipe the tears
Flowing from their eyes
And grief stricken faces.

These suffering millions and millions  
Of these innocent men, women and children
And even kids
Who lost the lives of their most dear ones
In this calamity
Need our attention, Love and Care.  03

Those who survived 
They are still  standing and waiting
In never ending rows
Even for a bottle of clean water 
And some bread and milk 
For the little children and kids.   04

Still you can see and find
On the TV screen
Many many of them standing or waiting
In the open sky
Throughout the night
With the horror of the Earthquake
Still lurking on their faces and
In their eyes.  05

A peace loving small nation
Now stands on the threshold of debris
Of not only broken walls and structures
Roads and Temples
But on the borders
Of broken hopes and confidence.
The Earthquake has broken
Almost everything they were pride of.   06

O' God, please merciful and restore
At least, their hopes
And help them to overcome
This too terrible a crisis.   07

Ravindra K Kapoor
Kanpur 30th April 2015

CONCLUDED IN PART  2....

Premium Member - A Lot Has Changed -


With minus 16 degrees and
  starry sky when the light took night

                          Six days to Christmas
           and we all expect a visit from the North Pole

Santa's body shape and apparently huge belly
is a sign that should be taken seriously,
diabetes and high blood pressure
At risk of life and health - spread of covid-19

This Christmas he is working in unfavorable working conditions
Nine hundred visits per second ... no wonder
he gets stressed, sweaty and red at the top

Listen here my friends
Everything you need, is a red hat and white beard
Santa needs your support 
but, remember to keep distance, face mask and gloves  
          




19/12/2020
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved


Santa's Covid Christmas Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Carolyn Devonshire
2nd place in the contest

                                                               N
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Seed

SEED

Every talent is a seed
And every seed has its need
Whatever the seed will be,
Depends on the farmer-holder of the seed

If the farmer discards the seed,
There will be no need satisfying the seed,s need
But If he decides to sow the seed,
Then he is burdened with responsibilities 

The seed needs a fertile land 
The farmer can,t waste its time on unfavorable environment
The seed needs a determined and willed hand 
It needs care and warm treatment 

The seed needs a favored rain
For much as the farmer,s diligence can irrigate,
That alone can,t determine the seed,s fate 
What comes from above nothing can drain 

The seed needs a graced sunshine 
For that  keeps the seed fit and balanced 
The farmer,s ability to reap that which is great and advanced,
Is dependent on factors which are divine 

Finally, the seed needs focus and consistency 
The farmer ought to earmark ample time for its success
How matured the seed will be should be his business
For without that, there may be plant without fruits- lifeless 


Every talent is a seed
And every seed has its need
Whatever the seed will be,
Depends on the farmer-holder of the seed

Be

BE 

What will you be? 
A doctor, lawyer, a teacher or judge 
A misfit, con artist or just another street thug 
What will you be? 
Yes resources unfavorable, experiences you’ve gone through 
Misfortunate lives trying to figure out whose you will align to 
What will you be? 
A business owner, writer or preacher 
Street pharmacist or city commissioner 
What will you be? 
With all of your spirituality, what will you be? 
Emotional baggage and poor mental state 
The master of poor choices 
It’s hard to communicate 
How will you get to your destiny? 
Will it be the luck of the lottery?
Do you believe in fate? 
Many dreams and aspirations can they be fulfilled? 
The answer is yes 
With determination and God’s will 
You can be what God says you ought to be 
Strong, vigilant, mighty and brave 
Full of strength, wisdom and a force to be reckoned with 
Can you say the same?

Coffee Break

Sunlight falling gently through the shifting cloud-shadows and chatter. 
Unsteady breezes warm then cool the surfaces of me. 
A muffled jazz number escapes a high corner of the awning covered bistro. 
Lyrics of "He said... She said" impose themselves upon the eclectically arranged melody, 
creating Muzak of the disgruntled and overly amused. 
This cacophony of white noise glances off the growing serpentine barriers of my solitude.
Seeking myself within myself, the horns and drumbeats amplify into a soundtrack of my descent. 
Heralding the arrival of myself into myself. 
The turbid currents of my deepening waters toss me, cradle me. 
Unclean yet serene, peace begins to precipitate these particles of my cloudy fear. 
With a clarity of the Oracle's perspective I watch the images of my soul cast 
upon the cave walls of my mind.
I sit for a while as I entertain myself. 
So glad to mostly see myself. 
I am jerked back to preality by a too large man squeezing past me. 
He stoically refuses to see how his obesity has intruded upon my frailty. 
With polite remorse I forgive the infraction while settling back into my poorly disguised egobesity. 
the strings and keys are once again overwhelmed by the drivel of the blank faced crowd. 
the sharpness of the large man's cigar creates an unfavorable breeze. 
I squint into the harsh sunlight as 
I observe the retreat of my solitude with a familiar regret.


Premium Member Nick's Masterpiece

Quarterback Nick Foles has a claim to fame.
He recently threw seven touchdown passes in a game.
Forty-nine points scored proved to be a plethora.
Nick’s Eagles were the team from Philadelphia.
The Eagles offense displayed some powerful guns.
The Raiders from Oakland were the unfortunate ones.
The game was played at the Oakland Coliseum.
For Raiders fans, there was an unfavorable outcome.
The results of the game left many of them glum.

Presumptuous

Is it presumptuous to assume
A melodious togetherness with you
Without an unfavorable tune
Or could we drown our indiscretions
In the depths of love’s infinite sea
And swam ashore in unison
Without feelings of malice and jealousy
Could we hold hands as true lovers and
walk the stretching shores of tranquility
or sink slowly in the agonizing sands
of deceit and our past infidelities

Is it presumptuous of me to -- think
Understanding and forgiveness resides in your heart
My blatant disrespect for fidelity was contemptuous
No less or more than yours, but I condemn my part
For you, eternally my heart weeps
Could you see past my mistake with a blind eye
Or continue stabbing me repeatedly
With sinful lust and yearnings for your lovers side

Is it presumptuous for me to say
Your adoration and passion is eternal
And your love for me is everlasting
Or is it just merely for today
Could you kiss me with fierce uncontrollable passion
The way you anointed your lover’s lips
Or in your eyes, am I not seen in the same fashion
Does he control the water, you the glass and I
Am merely allowed subtle infrequent sips

Is it presumptuous to feel right
About stealing an innocent gentle kiss
While you sleep a peaceful sleep - day or night
The kiss no longer belongs to me but its mines to miss

Is it presumptuous of me
When I trace the subtle curves of your caramel body
While the moon saturates your alluring frame
Your body opens and shifts with acceptance of my plight
And you passionately bless my offerings but you still call his name

The Rose That Blossoms At the End of the Rose Bush

Most High,

That your presence
be known to me, that you would save for me,
the Rose that blossoms at the end of the rose bush,
that grows at the furthermost corner of the Sacred Garden, 
saved of the chosen 
for the chosen.

Has my day come 
that I have grown worthy of 
such a blessing?

Have not 
the scales of Karma weighed me unfavorable 
for my crimes against 
the roses?

Has my name 
not been removed from The Book of Gardens,
that even the scent of such a perennial beauty should ever again 
grace my breath?

I would that 
you will see me as worthy!
That your favor be upon me to endure 
such a blessing as this,
Sacred flower!

That you would save for me,

My, 
Rose that grows 
at the furthermost corner of the Sacred Garden, 
that blossoms at the end of the 
Rose bush.

To Be Fair Or To Be Nice


To be fair or to be nice



Sometimes I stumble, I stumble upon to be fair or to be nice
To be fair,  might mean to be not nice
To be fair means to pass unfavorable judgement to someone
That someone  you might like very much. To be fair or to be nice?
To be nice might mean to be unjust. 
To be fair  or to be nice?


To be fair might mean giving someone  the chance.
That someone might be your competition. To be fair or to be nice?
To be nice means to be fair, but to be fair costs you
To be fair or to be nice?

To be fair means everyone has a say.
Not everyone has a good say.
To be nice might be saying anything that they want to hear, even without the associated action.
That has future impacts
 To be fair or to be nice?

To be fair means strength, to be fair means accountability, to be fair means challenge
To be fair means responsibility. To be fair is not easy
Choose to be fair.  To be nice is  a shortcut that goes nowhere.
Just do not stumble like me , be fair!

Feelings Are Tricky

Feelings are Tricky
Feelings come and go like going horseback riding without the horse...

Feelings are Tricky 
Feelings & thoughts of inadequacy thoughts running rapid like you're on an never ending roller coaster tossed here & there.

Feelings are Tricky
So I say again...

Feeling like pieces to a puzzle full of pieces to a puzzle that almost fit but not exactly so to speak. t's like your mind is playing tricks now you see now you don't, as though your mind is slowly, slowly unbelievable slipping away.

Feelings are Tricky
In the darkness like over flowing rivers resembling a river non-stop, joy, fear, anger & solitude, oh my oh my...

Feelings are Tricky
surrounded by unfavorable, fading circumstances. In the state of desperation & hope at the same time.

Feelings are Tricky
seeming trapped in darkness and the light of day, like morning dew with an array of beauty.

Feelings are Tricky
Sometimes it's hard living beyond your feelings, because they follow us  around all day even to eternality holding onto dear life...

Feelings are Tricky
Oh my Lord what's going on now..
 
Feelings are Tricky
like waves, moments of hope, satisfaction, peace, contentment, trust, accountability, pride, fear with no self control...
only in the end of day to realize it's only feelings with it's twists & turns going to & fro...

By: Deborah Vines penned 10/14/2017

Unquestionable

Unstrung as the brave
Nonviolent in protests  
Questioning moral wrong
Unfavorable of unfairness
Extravagant in ideas
Supporting freedom
Taunted by the ignorant
Irascible over foolishness
Obsessed by cleanliness 
Nameless to the envious
Ambiguous in everything
Bountiful in blessings
Liberal in thoughts
Enthused by laughter

Atonement

My Lord...
I, the ill-fated, the scythe-bearing wind,
ask for forgiveness instead of death.
You do know that what I say is diurnal, don’t you?
Sibyl Herophile died prophesying their end
not mine.

I am hovering within your hands,
breathing from your own lungs.
I beg of you, forget the red prison house.
I fear, My Lord. Beckon me.

I no longer chant your hymns.
I have forgotten my childhood prayers.

Ramming in secular injustice
I seek my own sunrise.
In the affected I seek the authentic,
I cry to you, My Lord.

But then again, if you by judgment
find me dishonorable,
I beg of you, in secret bury me.

Kill me
by giving me the most unfavorable criticism.
Lay me to rest
in a huge mound of sun dust.

In you I trust,
My Lord.

Obama My King

When God makes a plan for a king
It is God’s plan not the King’s
When a king strays from true purpose 
As an unfavorable appendage growth 
Turning asunder God’s intended nature for rule 
Whereupon pompous self –gluttony bellows
Bellowing for greater power, for riches the more, or forever lasting glory
Doth not a King make unfavorable war with patriots of his sovereignty?
For as a King demands thou shall- when God said thou shalt not
What citizenry stands silent for such self-proclamations?
When the king’s words bare no desirable fruits 
How doth the Kingdom’s  subjects eat?
When only the influential- whose lips whisper directly into the King’s ear
Or only the Dukes and Earls with deep pockets afford the King’s favor
Doth the King’s jester make gayety the suffering of his common
And grow tiresome of the hunger’s plea , or  the widow’s need, 
Will not  the laymen’s  voice be heard above the ten percent?
As a King sets forth his intention but nay a one becomes reality
Doth not the people cry into their Lord God for a savior?
A new King!  
A better King! 
A righteous King for the people!
For this pompous  King has short number his days like morning dew on Mayflies’ wings
Now doth the citizenry gather at the King’s gate shouting!
We of November will remember!
And purge thee from thy thrown!

The Problem With Polaroids

Memories of my childhood
are Polaroids of nostalgic cards
instant colored snapshots of my every action
from the day of my birth to the day I took my first steps
from the day I first started school to the day I learnt to ride a bike
I believed my childhood days would always be unfathomable
the most colossal deception about life living
that’s the problem I have with Polaroids 

Birthday number eighteen
was the most unfavorable day of my puerile life
the once flashy, picturesque Polaroids of my childhood
slowly vanished into the dark and foggy stockade of heartbreak
before my very black eyes, while drizzling
unsweetened tears of a cheerless adulthood
that’s the problem I have with Polaroids
© Mia Pratt  Create an image from this poem.

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