Best Unfortunates Poems
Two empty coffins...with unknown names
Saved for the unfortunates...of Jesse James
Made for the men, they say...Jesse killed
Only a matter of time, they'll both...be filled
An Epitaph To Make Me Laugh Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Jesse Rowe
4-22-2019
The Atlantic City boardwalk is a lonely place to be
when it's early morning just after three.
The stores are all closed, and the beaches are clear.
Just look around and you won't see another soul near.
At this hour, nobody wants to roam.
Everybody is in their hotel rooms, or gone home.
In the casinos, a few unfortunates are stuck.
They fruitlessly continue to try their luck.
Well, I'm an employee, and my shift is done.
I'm going home a few hours before the rise of the sun.
Who is noble to pay respect which springs from within?
Respect cannot be hidden.
Who is grateful to have the past gratitude?
Respect is the best human sentiment which has no other substitute.
Who is charitable today?
How many does to you a kind word say?
Charity means an act of generosity
Charity is an act of liberality.
Charity underlines kindness,
Also hospitality and frankness.
Charity transforms man into a human being
It is just a noble and humble understanding
How many are to the poor and needy merciful?
How many are to the unfortunate, down- trodden and helpless pitiful?
Who does love one another selflessly?
Without having any selfish motives and without greed
Who does have affection for one?
Only bitter hatred but love for none.
Is anyone as humble as a sea rock?
Pride has made them to others sneer and mock.
Is anyone as Gandhiji honest?
But left to burn in the lava of anger, jealousy
Greed, selfishness and turn them ugliest.
Is there anyone who is backbiting?
Who is to all the wishes and desires of the
unfortunates and orphans fulfilling?
Is there anyone left who is spotless?
Unmoved by the pain, sorrow, grief, agony and is immensely joyous?
Science and money have crippled and deadened man's sensibilities
He has erased himself from humanity and responsibilities.
Picasso painted me ugly.
Two lips slung over a rusted hanger.
One eyebrow burnt for attention's sake.
Let's tell Grandma how much fun we had today.
Picasso is still at work.
Monet swallowed your stupidity.
Five teeth missing and nary a barbed retort to bend.
One un-photographed smile was left behind.
Let's tell Grandpa his prized lilacs are in mourning.
Monet is still at work.
Seurat poked your larynx.
The roses in your hands may be the thorns in your side.
Ivy and Sumac spice the teas I serve the unfortunates.
Let's tell Auntie June her parasol spikes are dull and snapped.
Seurat is still at work.
O'Keefe smears one simply.
Stamens and pistils shoot the misanthropes dead.
A spare will be guarded for the one's I've missed.
Let's tell Uncle Ed the lessons you've learned today.
O'Keefe is still at work.
DaVinci played baccarat with Stalin.
Swelled hands made it difficult to paint distinctly.
Dirty tongues are as useful as frayed dishrags.
Let's tell no one anything.
Let's tell no one nothing.
(naughty, bastard boy -
using double negatives in one sentence).
Pay one tuppence to the tillerman
and remind the collected town criers -
I'm at work.
We're all
at Work.
Your loving persistence
mixed with blissful insistence
and reassuring assistance...
is always bestowed so sweetly.
Your charm is beguiling
giving me smooches while smiling
harken closely - and I’ll sing...
all of your praises quite neatly.
You are constantly there
amidst the angst and despair -
dulcet declarations repair...
the worrisome wounds in my head.
An endearing embrace
filled with affection and grace
gently put my fears in their place...
without one harsh word being said.
Mother,
I hear small unfortunates weep -
devoid of sweet lullabies at sleep
to cleanse the sting
in their heads and their chest.
Tasting the tears of their plight -
they clutch torn teddy bears at night
praying one day, they too, will be blessed.
Your unselfish concern
spoken aloud or taciturn
were the sweet lessons I’ve learned...
soft sonnets resound in my heart.
All the love you have shown
throughout the years as I’ve grown
has united my soul with your own...
never to be broken apart.
Your soothing warm trust
is always gentle and just
making it quite clear that one must...
"let your attributes shine like a gem.”
But at night, as I sleep
I hear unfortunates weep
pondering the gifts they would reap...
if I could show-and-tell share you
with them.
'nite, Mom…
My friend, how did he go so wrong?
Funny and jovial, was he, as happy as one can be.
Then, Paul shot his wife to death, mercilessly,
Beneath their family Christmas tree!
Leaving behind, children...three.
He never had a harsh word to say to anyone.
What was he thinking, this man of fun?
I shall never, ever know...
I wanted to scream and run.
Strange how life twists and turns at
times in unhappy and vicious ways.
I worry for women and gentle children.
Praying, they are never abused by men.
That was the saddest Christmas Eve of
my life.
A husband with a handgun, oh such pain
and unforgettable holiday strife.
~Biographical note~
This, indeed was only one of many brutal attacks, I
experienced in my life. Later, a fellow teacher blew
her husband way. Life is not always kind to so
many unfortunates.
My take away from events like this, is to recall how
beautiful life is. To value it, be grateful. Above all,
to communicate with each other openly. Be kind.
Be supportive.
If you are in an abusive relationship, get help or get
out. Your life depends on it. Don't let any poet here
smallify or degrade you, ever!..Panagiota Romios
Internet abuse is not acceptable....
July 15, 2020
7pm PST
I'm sorry...
Love is a thornbush.
Pretty to the sight
yet, in the end;
it's prickly touch
is unimaginable.
With bright red roses -
it's message
seems too fragrant -
vociferous from afar.
Romantics are obsessed with love -
the misanthropes dread it;
it's a kill-joy feeling -
an inner nightmare
of an unconcious
optimistic daydream.
You stutter the word love -
but do you regurgitate beauty?
Like a laughable idea
whose far-sided partner is
an emotional quadroplegic?.
You're clueless and
I'm a jaded wallflower.
Love is a disease -
It's like syphilis -
one never asks for it.
Innocence invades
a loner's muted thoughts
quite quietly.
Love is calculated cancer.
You try to cope with the affliction -
while the misfits around you
watch you hold your head erect
and cackle
in laughable disdain.
The unfortunates are the reality.
Everyone tans in Hell.
No one cannot help what they feel.
We are helpless -
(squirming like worms)
our morals swim like scum;
it gets tossed around
when passion hold you hostage..
Far sided beauty
is one's torture up close;
feeding off one's weakness
like leeches on dormant genocide.
From the inside out -
scars surface.
Emotions are demented -
mongoloid flavored;
unable to heal -
your will is a mutilated carcass.
Rigamortis quietly sets in
unbeknownst to you -
transparent to your and your
befriended corpses.
I'm sorry...
the air is clearer now.
Infatuation gets a second chance -
another shot without a bullet.
Why do we pine for this?
Pining to surrender -
our pride,
our dignity.
When we stand
for our independence
do we will give it all away,
without a price tag?-
Stupidity repeats iitself;
yet we still yearn
for our fictious chimera
to resurface.
In the end;
love isn't so beautiful?
Misquided vagabonds choose to
paint our idyllic pictures -
but it wont stop the torture;
because the suffering we endure
lingers past expiration...
it glides above vowed headstones -
until our consummated
death -
do we part?
It can't -
and for that
I'm sorry once more.
Behold The Lamb
“The next day John saw Jesus coming toward him and said, "Look, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!” Jn 1:29 NIV
Behold the Lamb of God
Which takes away all sin
So that a world full of souls
Has a chance not to die but win
From the manger to Calvary
He followed a path of self-denial
To minister to many unfortunates
Before His death and trial
Behold the Lamb of God
A ransom for us all
Self put to one side
That we might rise and not fall
He ministered to the needy
Sin-wracked soul
Miracle healings prevailed
Lives restored, made fully whole
Behold the Lamb of God
God’s plan for redemption
Focused around His son
And His incredible incarnation
We are asked to minister to others
Follow Christ’s example
Put self aside
A spirit-filled sample
May the world see Christ
Living through us
As we take up the work of angels
A responsibility so wondrous
Behold the Lamb of God
His mercy and grace
Until we finally see Him
Face to face.
Copyright © Maureen LeFanue 2007-2012
www.maureenlefanue.com
When you lay to waste
all that you have built,
And undo
all that you have learned.
When you are done
wallowing in shame and guilt
and see around you
nothing but darkness;
Come unto me
and I will accept thee.
When you find
no place to hide
and are overwhelmed
by fear and despair,
And in your heart of hearts
you repent for your misdeeds;
Come unto me
and I will forgive thee.
For you are born of me
And unto me thou shalt return--
Meek as a lamb,
Pure and fresh as a snowflake,
Driven not by doubts or desires
But by love and faith.
For I will come once again
with the message of hope, love and peace,
Of harmony and brotherhood.
I'll be born not of flesh and blood
But of your hopes and aspirations,
Not of the salt of any shore
But of air and water.
And I'll lead them all:
Those with trust and faith
And the unfortunates
And the downtrodden
And those who speak differently
And those who see differently
And those with different customs and creed.
To them all
I will bring the good tidings
of Peace and Hope!
~03/21/2015
~Contest: Inspirational Christian Poetry
~Sponsor: Regina McIntosh.
~"Resurrection of Christ" contest by Isaiah Zerbst
I want to sing a song about Christmas
With a nice haunting melody
but so far i have nothing
no ideas coming to me
so I don't know what to write
or what I'm going to sing
I must find the answer soon
otherwise I will have nothing
what Christmas mean to me
I must find the right words to say
if I don't get something soon
then the idea would just go away
The true meaning of Christmas
Is hardly ever pursue
Some thinks its just to eat and drink
Give a gift and say Marry Christmas to you
I want to find the true answer
Cause I don't want to get it wrong
And for me to share it with you
I have to put the words where it belong
Cause this life's already confusing
So I have to be careful with what's being said
I don't want to say the wrong words
And play mind games with your head
I am just like you
I am just regular man
We can never comprehend god wisdom
Cause his work we can't understand.
All we know is he send his son
To show mankind the right way
And because of him
We celebrate Christmas today
Its the only time of the year
That we does show that we care
Then after that we become blinded
To the unfortunates every where
So as I struggle to find a melody
Of a song or a poem to write
I would not give up
I would still hold on to my pen tonight
And I will have a drink of brandy
And watch my Christmas tree light
And if I get sleepy
Then I will turn in early tonight
The true meaning of Christmas
Is some thing I think we already know
And it is to love one and other
But only For Christmas people will show a little love
Its nice to feel appreciated
Its nice to give a gift or two
But its also sad for the rest of the year
To feel neglected like every one forget you
In today's society
Its so easy to judge wrongfully
Its a dog eat dog world
Slowly taking over humanity
We didn't come from an explosion
We are born from creation
I don't believe in all they dinosaurs hypes
Or that we come from evolution
And the same way we celebrate this Christmas
We will celebrate Ramadan and dewali to
And its not about religion or beliefs
Its about the love that lives in Me and you
So I will keep on trying
To write the perfect song
And if I am successful
Then the world would will join and sing along
A helping hand,
To the emancipated,
To the hated,
To the poor,
To the sick,
To the unfortunates,
To the downtrodden,
To the orphans,
To the widows,
To the disabled,
To the crumbled
To the oppressive and confounded.
The help you rendered,
The comfort and feelings you blended,
The sympathy for the destitute,
The care and concern to the wounded
as healing substitutes.
The honour, the love. the affection, the blessings
that were showered on you,
Are just too less in these words to describe you.
The unpretentious life you led,
The hapless and the hopeless with whom you dealt,
Honest, selfless service was your mission
A countless times I bow down before you, oh mother!
I’m wed to moon, a motif for romance.
A god, my grace by poets oft is sung.
Yet some who voyage my expanse by chance
into the briny depths of me are flung
by tempests or by quakes! I do not save
unfortunates. I reign but give free will.
Chained chattel cruelly cast into a grave
by tyrants - lie submerged within me still.
When *Kraken drags his victims ‘neath my skin,
like God above, I rarely interfere
but brim with salty tears for all that’s sin.
Now hold this token seashell near your ear. . .
beneath the echo of an endless swell,
hear souls whose grief one God alone can quell.
*Kraken is a mythical monster of the sea
For the the Open Sea - Sailing, Creatures, Treasures Poetry Contest
Now for Brian Strand'sthe 'ALL YOURS (Jan 27)' Poetry Contest
Contest Details
Accidentally chanced upon
While browsing through a set of tomes
An unrequited love poem
Marked between the yellowed pages
Within a volume rifled through.
Thereupon, I eagerly read
The words in Edwardian script
Predated nineteen hundred six-
A sad age of class distinction-
Where lines describe a futile love
Of two unfortunates in love
The beau from high society
His belle of notoriety
The aging ink was droplet smeared
I want to think it was from tears.
Is there more joy than the sound of a child's laughter
long before they're forced to experience the life ahead
with its many challenges that are
enough to break the strongest will
though most succeed in becoming upstanding
and decent law-abiding members of society
those that don't sadly and for many reasons
are destined to spend their whole lifetime fighting
against an inner force far greater
than they are able to resist or control
those of us that have managed to stay
on the straight and narrow are at a loss to understand
it is for us to feel pity not condemnation
there but for the grace of God go I
of course, there are other factors such as
environment and upbringing but in spite of this
some still do manage to rise above
and become a model or at least law-abiding citizens
those are the ones we need to recognize
and hold in high esteem
just imagine how we would do in the same situation
so before we judge harshly these poor unfortunates
perhaps we should first try to understand
something to think about eh?
The tigress lives in the green jungle
well secured for her biological kids
extended family members too live
but once in kitchen worries emerge
Selectively she serves delicious meals
to only those that are exactly tigers
those on the other side of thorny fence
tigress dishes out misery in dirty plates
In the kitchen one can hear her utter;
“Go away, you hiss like snake, no food.
This one laughs like ugly hyena, quit.
Disappear. Those spots are of leopard.”
Without any challenger to her injustice
the tigress starves and stabs her kids
the favored glorify, laud her and enjoy
to unfortunates she wants carcass mats
But tigress in her dreamy cynical mind
does not know that fighting the innocent
walking along tight narrow ropes of envy
creates airspace for the unjust to resurrect