Best Unopposed Poems
TEMPEST
Twin limestone tors thrust up through valley floor
Like isles or icebergs in a calm flat sea
Deep green save where shear rock can hold no spore
To spawn in fecund niche a vine or tree
Midday and all is calm untroubled, still
In tactile heat, all movement paused, restricted
No hint of ought that might disturb our will
A landscape placid, as in paint depicted
But look to sky the seeds of change are sown
There, signs portend a transformation near
Those gentle clouds mere cumuli have grown
To cumulonimbus, thrust t'ward stratosphere
And therein is enormous might enclosed
Stored energy, that soon must be released
Unleashing primal power unopposed
The laws of Nature never to be breached
Now lightning flickers o'er far mountain peaks
Faint thunder echoes round steep valley walls
The breeze accelerates and chills to speak
A warning of the fast approaching squall
The charge in air: has swallows energised
To move from circling low ‘tween tree and house
Their flight plans now are recklessly revised
To helix soaring t'ward the threatening clouds
A steady light drum roll on roofs - sound train
Starts gently then crescendo ends the prelude
Announcing clear the now impending rain
Prodigious splashes transformed to a deluge
The waves of rain traverse our panorama
Gauze curtains drawn by cosmic stage hand's might
Relentless, recasting features as of dark drama
Familiar scenes are shrouded, hid from sight
Now random electric arcs flare bleak view scanned
Cacophony of thunder rules all sound
Awesome darkness and confusion on the land
All visual anchors cast in shade spellbound
But in this world each cycle must be ended
Perhaps reverse events that had us unmoored
The drama, soon is played out and expended
Peace, light and order gradually restored
Known reference points can once again be seen
The twin rock peaks come clear through rain-washed air
Clouds make fine-spun white wraps for hills now green
We're reassured by prospects known and fair
Is this chronicle an allegoric tale
Of human life not granted free of strife
Would we choose bland existence without travail
Or fain confront the magnificent storms of life
THE THREE CATEGORIES OF PEOPLE
At the zenith great men stood unopposed
Exonerated people of great wisdom and wealth
The earth is their point of arrival and departure
Terminus ad quo and terminus ad quem
Always excelling at the slightest opportunity
Success! Their pinnacle of glory
They make things happen”.
In the middle mediocres squat opposed
Thou they find themselves comfortable where they are
Making no effort to move forward
Always ready to serve the lords of the pinnacle
Yet they feel like waking up at the peak
Imagining the world to be a place of existence
They try to make things happen but lack the will”.
Down are struggling large multitudes of people
Who blame the world for what they are
They are mask men to themselves
Value can never be attached to their life
Surely existing not living in a world of theirs
Inferiority personified, pathetic without vision
Looking and not seeing, hearing and not listening
Ready to embrace whatever comes their way
Pessimistic persons with great dreams they can’t realize.
They watch things happen”.
WHERE DO YOU BELONG?
...Lordvip...
Joe Biden now rules our White House
Together with his 'doctor' spouse.
His blunders, for sure-
We have to endure;
To caring, he does not espouse.
Those mishaps, like names he misspoke-
For sure, were not meant as a joke.
But much worse by far
His failures that scar-
Appeasing the will of the woke'!
Day-one, he shut down the pipeline-
made our oil production decline.
Gas prices- despise!
While heating bills rise!
We now must import and consign!
Appalling- how he shut that door
To exit the long Afghan war!
Left our troops behind-
Their rescue declined
In spite of their sacrifice bore!
Our vast Southern border, exposed-
All previous rules- he opposed.
He let millions in
And, to our chagrin-
Come outlaws and drugs- unopposed!
Bad crimes multiply by the day;
The victims now feel cast away.
With no fines or bail,
Or time spent in jail-
No need that bad guys must obey!
Inflation's gone way off the chart;
We dread the time spent at the mart.
Less food we now choose
For his brainless ruse-
Just printing out money's not smart!
And, last but not least, Hunter's life!
This son and his dad cause us strife.
With Chinese, each deals-
While 'The Big Guy' steals;
Through quid pro quo- they become rife!
Our media hypes left-wing views-
So, therefore, presenting fake news;
When really, they should
Show bad with the good;
Lay out all the facts to peruse!
November 25, 2022
Contest: The Bidens Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Anthony Biaanco
after “I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud” (also sometimes called “Daffodils”) by William Wordsworth
I wandered weightless as a feather,
a muted plume from mourning dove.
A tuft afloat in breezy weather
connected now to skies above;
as long as winds will carry me
from over fields and out to sea.
My glad esprit more free than birds,
detached from mortal needs I fly,
where spirits long to share their words
among the songs in clouds, I sigh...
for Earth was never this composed,
this high I travel unopposed.
Oh, cumulus! A meadow white,
I feel at home atop its waves
illuminant, in purest light.
Mid savored heights my mem’ry saves
inertia of the clover green
and shiver of the water’s sheen.
Such riches now I do enjoy
in solitude away from fray.
I'm free from living once so coy;
in spirits’ realm I long to stay,
for then, myself I will fulfill
with gild as gold as daffodil.
THE DAY THE STATUE OF LIBERTY CRIED
It was September eleventh two thousand one
A day the entire world was stunned
Two unopposed aircraft entered New York City
Leaving a trail of death without pity
Like missiles they hit the renowned Twin Towers
Reducing them to rubble in a matter of hours
The pilots who flew them had a mission to follow
Choosing to die just to please allah
They cared not a whit for the lives of others
They sought the praise of their Islamic brothers
At the cost of thousands of American lives
Their loyalty to allah became their prize
The revenge of American lives is yet unended
For fear that someone may be offended
The question is asked, what would we gain
While the blight on America still remains
Now ISIS has reared its ugly head
And two American journalists are dead
So acts of terrorism can't be denied
It began when the Statue of Liberty cried
Curtis Moorman
12 September 2014
I never did see a more beautiful expression
As if all four seasons had exploded
Imploded, eroded all the somber
A wonder so delicate...an art she exposed
Utterly unopposed is the dancers heart
animations of vibrations move through her
A Van Gogh of flow
like aged, cellared Bordeux
Wreathes of wind, sun and soul weave
down around her roots through her being
freeing sensations into the air
As if with Gaia's divine love affair.
Eyes drawn and beating heart unconcealed
She wields her radical, energetic shield...
The power to heal, to breathe, to love
above the brilliant sun, moon and stars
Oh what an orchestrated art in tune.
Spirit calls out to her from Earth
The birth of sound and soul unearthed
Oh what an art i've observed
To preserve the true art of a dancer's heart.
Unopposed Oxymoron
This poem is light as a heavy contradicting complement
and rhymes with no correspondence of sound sharp at
the cutting horizon’s edge of melting confusing fission
Serious like a foolish jester and in trivial necessity it wants
to be chimed in disagreement discordant harmony figure
of speech silent shapeless tallies and out into central periphery
Traditional post-modern as an anchor less mooring unbound
a planar linear Oxo cube for poetry soups soaps speechless
rhetoric it says nothing’s everything all for refutation and proof
Cut as a half witted razor blade dull as laser bred dull diamond
the oxymoron in proximal distance joins divisions idiotic
intelligence bland precision in amorphous diffused clarity
I am nothing but and everything as I know to know nothing
where healthy insanity and clear normal madness when
condensed reflection and prismatic diffusion meets parting
My initial final backfiring telos in idle lazy effort’s endeavour in
rhyme and in lightness dissonant un-melodic featherless burden
is that being at different places in different times in the same
space and same moment is not an oxymoron but debatable truth
Written on 27th August in Johannesburg dateless timeless
and nowhere with a blank mind and mindful disregard
Coping With Hard Economic Times
By Elton Camp
Each new generation was richer than the one before
But it looks like that will never be the case anymore
It seems young families might as well expect to see
What economists now describe as the “new reality”
Their parents came to have a house and a nice car
It will be hard for most young folks to go that far
The jobs that are available have become very few
And of a type that only minimal wages are due
Benefits largely have become a thing of the past
As have pensions that an entire lifetime will last
Many jobs that were available to Americans before
Have now be “outsourced” to some foreign shore
Most manufacturing plants have now been closed
So China can dominate the market, unopposed
Even if people, more are quite willing to pay
Little is found that has been “Made in the USA”
I cant seem to find the happy
antedote to cool my negative
consequences--- malignant non standards
freud pennance desires to capitulate-re
the never know mores so the forni fun reins can be
pulled taughtly somewhere
inside lives a man who cares----simple
kind to all--pleasures akin to
mellow moon moments--get the
fish jist--uncomplicated---neurogladiolas
with leafs outstretched to catch
the morns love rays---fully watered
premise to a concubine wife unopposed
like all fetters released free to
abound under alcohol laden pods
in a swaying sequence water ballet peaceful in its
aloneness yet always ever seeking the never
true part ne'r so patiently ignoring---
Cancer quest staring you in the face
but cant be seen---know knows no
knowns eyes closed bloodshot--wishing
hard to overwhelmed joy visions of what could be--I know theres a palace in me that gushes being is a river raft of giving
tides unabated for the abandon quits warm of function
but in pure feet sense cant save
to swim in the same antidirection plan for a
single sec hard to find 30 days notice
self eviction would help but then whered i be
in the tunnel of soothing nonfixtures
riding on nosense syllables that
now sag to be a faraway foreign language
my own fault alcohol only a seed cloud
the deeper I think the more dense I look
in the wrong semidirection too quiet and
yet unyielding to promote a sick sense of
perserverance uncompounded like a gemstone past
its prime on the open market a bill past due
repossessed
folded catalogued drawn drawered in a
tightshell outcast lowbrow miniscule
catapult nurtured nonethe selfless retro
inconvenience breech birth brain divided
gray tipped shark heart profiled in opposite filling manikin lifestyles
The legions, of her irresistible charms,
Marched on
And
Unopposed conquered, my defenseless
Heart!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
28 FEBRUARY 2015
CUPID/EROS
Oh! Erato,
Muse of the poetry of love
Inspire me today
I supplicate you for
I aspire for HIM to write
HIM: CUPID, the son of Venus
Goddess of beauty, and of Mercury,
The cunning messenger
Of Gods
Guide my pen, Oh, Muse,
I implore you, a hymn for
HIM to write
A worthy hymn
For this sweet winged-tyrant of
Mortals’ hearts,
This merciless despot of
Mankind
The looks of his mother taken and
The shrewdness of his father
Irresistible forever
Has remained and
Easily into our souls
Uninvited infiltrates, paralyzing
Every resistance of
Ours
Then unopposed
He marches on:
Conquering every heart,
Subjugating every will,
Dominating every mind and
Becoming the absolute master
Of our being
No armies are able to resist
His charms
No troops are willing to make a
Stand against him
Instead, they are:
Readier to embrace the shadow of death, than
To live under the Sun of the living
Readier to be defeated by Cupid’s sweet arrows, than
To be victorious
Readier to exist in shameful infamy, than
To claim fame eternal
Easy for me is now
To comprehend
Divine, Homer,
Who describes you, CUPID, as
“Invincible in battle.”
Yes, YOU are INVINCIBLE,
Indeed!
For no mortal, no matter how
Powerful,
Be he a king or a simple soldier,
Is willing to take arms
Against you on the battlefield
Of love
But he eagerly his soul
Trades for
Just a probable morsel of
Happiness,
A dim hope of love eternal
And thus,
Without giving a single blow,
CAPITULATES!
©Demetrios Trifiatis
2 January 2013
Unopposed Camel Toes ( Mono tetra) (Adult)
While watching you promoting clothes
That do away with camel toes
I had misgivings, I suppose
and these are those, and these are those.
It's not so now, but used to be
teen boys would learn anatomy
by watching surreptitiously
hints they would see, hints they would see.
Now girls at ten wear red lipstick
with black mascara brushed on thick
as though they want to turn a trick.
I think that's sick. I think that's sick.
But women out of puberty
who choose to dress outrageously
can make that choice it seems to me.
They should be free, they should be free.
When girls wear tramp stamps on their backs
and see-through clothes are sold at Sak's
and plastic surgeons augment racks
You should relax. Phoenix, relax.
When guys shoved socks into their pants
their meager manhood to enhance
they hoped to heck they'd draw a glance.
they took a chance, they took a chance.
For those of us who only watch
I don't like ideas that would botch
a camel toe define a crotch.
A lovely notch. A lovely notch.
When street-walkers show camel toes
it's advertising 'cus they're "hos"
and one's defined slit clearly shows
just where it goes, just where it goes.
When the bombs fell, the death toll rose ...
smell of burnt flesh tortured the nose
Body parts laying in the street,
dogs eating hands, cats eating feet
Nuclear winter, hope has froze
Empty church pew, rows upon rows ...
the doors of compassion are closed
Their technology god was asleep
when the bombs fell
Smoldering fear burns unopposed ...
anarchy gangs rapidly grows
Dead bodies all piled in a heap,
leaders all flee underground deep
The land became naked, unclothed
when the bombs fell
Don’t you see where you are
There was a time you wouldn’t tolerate
People thinking for themselves
You pass your judgments
And you made decisions to never last
You were the dominant voice
The ideology behind every mans choice
You believed in what you knew
And you knew no more than what you were told
We’ve come too far near for change
You were the leader
You were a generation of unopposed cheaters
You assassinated
You told stories of finer fabrication
You fought for patriotism, you fought for pride
Seldom did you put your integrity aside
You made no rights to be considered civil
You preyed on anyone who was thought to be liberal
You expressed your Marxist theories
You denied the working class it’s values
You sat me on the back of the bus
You told your children to fear me
We’ve come too far near for change
You formed conglomerates
And biased political party’s
In 63 you showed very little sympathy
Oh how you shook the wind from me
You told me I was only a third of a person
You scolded that my days would worsen
You defined anti-Semitism in less than four years
And before this, you path a trail of tears
Walk with me this way
You know things will not be okay
God bless a cease fire
For a present day Vietnam provokes war this day
We’ve come too far near for change
So mothers and children
Fathers and pilgrims
Settle the sky’s
For there are no frontiers left to pry
The rivers in which you wade
Have been drained too tire
From a followers coming of age
Script your life, live your days
Press your quill to this page
Is this what you ask for
A patent at your door
No more Marconi’s
No more hero’s or displeasures
Only a world lost and lonely
Are we too far near for change
Desires
play perpetually
I am gazing--
desires
unaware of destiny
frisk about my mindscape
like children.
While playing children
break my mind’s toys
lacerate its walls
peel away mind’s layers
pulverise them and
throw around.
Desires stay unaware
of man’s fragile existence
authored by scarcity
They are not demolished
because it’s said they should not--
to be declared standing
on hope’s ruins.
Desires unopposed, undaunted
romp around mind’s cliff
swing fast on mind’s branch
gallop on its broken piece
jump shaking mind’s foundations,
sometimes they break mind’s bell jar
spilling feelings.
It’s fun assembling
mind’s jigsaw pieces
scattered by desires
like assembling
my small daughter’s toys
strewn about in her play.
I like desires like children
and their plays
that tease me now and then into
knowing life.
I salute my desires with a bow.
were it not for them to come and play
mind would be empty just like me.
Life would flee
from my eyes
without telling me when.
(Translated from Nepali by Prof. Abhi Subedi)