Best Unwholesome Poems


Premium Member Tied To Tradition

They pierce the unwelcoming night,
perserving eyes that receive nothing 
but an unwholesome darkness,
hot accelerated breath scorches the
freezing air, as it penetrates
in entirety her raffish body while a 
shivering anatomy provokes an age
of innocence, yet a stark awareness
of life’s tribulations, as she tucks in
her scarf, fastens her top button
before impetuously walking off into
the shadows to confront her next trick.

© Harry J Horsman   2022
Categories: unwholesome, irony,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Grandma Goodie, Goodie

Have you met, good old Grandma Goodie, Goodie,
With her gingerbread house of sweets emporium,
Tasty treats unwholesome to eat, but oh in pleasures
Indulgence, she corners the market, the bitter,
To the sweet, with her delicious confectionery delights.
Skip, skip along the forest path of the unknown
Trail, it’s the only way to find this elderly ladies,
Fabled cottage of gumdrops and Lully pops.
Crumbling bread crumbs did you leave behind, a mark to
Follow but the black birds did eat them, piece by tender piece.
So lost you became in the wilderness wild, that you feared never
To escape, from this evergreen forest of nightmares.
Oh brother's grim, did the futures outcome look bleak until you,
Spotted, good old grandma's goodie, goodies emporium sign.
Come in all little children, and dine.
As giant candy canes lined the walk ways
Entrance of honeycomb’s of flavor to savor.
It taw’s late the hour for which you arrived,
But this elderly dame entered with a heart felt
Welcomes deepest desire, come along child
Of man, whatever you most wish will appear by
Your sweet tooth’s command.
She’s just a sweet elderly gran after all,
What harm could there be in excepting her
Hospitality, beware, says the phrase do not
Take candy from strangers comes to mind!
Nibble, nibble on her gingerbread window sill,
And fast asleep shall thee fall, under a witches
Ungodly spell, incantations evil enchantress,
Hidden beneath a grannies disguise of lavender
And white lace.
But illusions fade with the light of day,
And darkness must shed their masks of deception,
Before striking at their intended prey.
Yet modern technology, rings the apps sounding
Bell, awakening me from this childhood story gone
Cannibal!
As I take a deep signs breathe of relief,
My clock radio goes off, and on it is a
Commercial break, advertising a candy shops
Grand opening, just then a chill runs right
Through me freezing my blood to the bone,
Come along the announcer speaks, to Grandma
Goodies emporium of delicious treats,
And I promise you won’t be disappointed
My dear friends and listeners.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
© Cherl Dunn  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: unwholesome, children, halloween, history, holiday,
Form: Free verse

The Flood

https://m.soundcloud.com/user-921599710/the-flood

Populated land of plenty
Yet hearts brimming with sin,
Dishonourable thoughts, unwholesome deeds
Blessings, provision, no gratitude thereof
The young mirrored such ways
Distaste all around, high and low, near and far
Preoccupied souls, distractions abound
Within such surroundings, righteousness remained
The remembrance of Noah, a passing of days, instructions foretold
An unfolding promise, destruction of old
A time for renewal, a solid ark to build
Call forth the chosen, the chosen are few
Gather your wives and sons, animals two by two
Close the door, seek refuge no more
Waters shall arise, raging torrents, streams will flow
Forty days and forty nights
Water-covered earth, send a raven to and fro
Send a dove for resting place
Imminent return, a week of wait
A second return, an olive leaf
Of such relief, the flood had ceased
A beautiful becoming, land again
An open door
An offer of sacrifice upon the altar
A promise on high
Rainbow sky

Written by Geraldine Taylor ©
Categories: unwholesome, inspiration,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Do You Not Know That Your Bodies Are the Temple of the Holy Spirit 1 Corinthians 6:19

Do you not know that your bodies are the temple of the
Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from
God?  You are not your own; You were brought at a
price.  Therefore honor God with your bodies. 
1 Corinthians 6:19-20***

These verses were referring to sexual immorality
and not to my diabetes.  However, I am using
them to help me with the reasons why it is so
very hard to control diabetes and what are
some real solutions to maintaining my healthy
blood sugar levels. 

My Compass Health clinician 111 has suggested
that I write about my sugar diabetes, how to 
control it and how to maintain healthy
blood sugar glucose levels.

Do not let unwholesome speech come out of
your mouths, but only that which is helpful

Questions and Answers Q and A # 1

Q: Do I currently regard my body a temple
of the Holy Spirit of God?

A: I am aware that my body is a temple of the 
Holy Spirit but do not govern my life style nor
my current unhealthy eating habits accordingly.

Do not let unwholesome talk come out of
your mouths, but only that which is
helpful for building up others according to their
needs, that it may benefit those who 
listen. Ephesians 4:29

 And do not grief the Holy Spirit
of God, with whom you are sealed for
the day of redemption. Get rid of all,
bitterness, rage, and anger, bawling,
and slander, along with every form of
malice.  Be kind and compassionate
to one another, forgiving each other.
Ephesians 4: 30-32

 to be continued latter on 4/03/23
Categories: unwholesome, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Dramatic Verse

The Adventures of Enea, Part 9 of 13

Points Above and Below the Line
(Enea Canonises Catherine of Siena)

It's not a thing we go for any more, 
that hierarchy malarkey, but in fact 
the medieval mind set mega store 
by stairs and ladders. All things interact, 

and therefore can be neatly classified. 
(There's endless fun in drawing up these lists!) 
The lowest rung is "is", all pride aside: 
a rock is "est", because it just exists. 

Your jellyfish can breathe and reproduce, 
so up we go: it wins a badge named "vivit". 
An antelope can feel, get scared, hang loose, 
so "sentit" is the title we can give it. 

So living, then, is better than existing, 
and feeling better still. Take Esther Blodgett. 
She's capable of pouting, outing, twisting -- 
so humans come out tops again, with "cogit". 

So all these so's, I hear you say: so what? 
Well, what if humans almost reach "divine"? 
Suppose there's something Esther Blodgett's got 
that takes her over life's Dividing Line? 

"Sublunary" means "underneath the moon". 
"Diurnal" means "divided, night and day". 
(Now, please don't chafe: the point is coming soon.) 
Below the line means "subject to decay". 

The moon was key for medieval man, 
because it marked the mortal azimuth -- 
Above, eternal, there since time began: 
below, corrupt, unwholesome, marked for death. 

And now we come to Pius, making saints. 
There's Catherine of Siena, looking flirty: 
They must have used an awesome box of paints -
The chick had been a corpse since thirteen-thirty. 

Above, the Pope, the Cardinals and Kate. 
Below, the groundlings watching it go down. 
Above, all spirit, high, inviolate: 
below, all bulging groin and earthy brown. 

If Kate was Sienese, that's nepotism? 
Why ain't he canonizing Capistrano? 
It's all to do with black and brown and schism. 
Dominicans are gold, the others guano. 

Franciscans are Heart, 
Dominicans are Brain. 
Franciscans use Love, 
Dominicans use Pain. 
Franciscans are Italy, 
Dominicans are Spain.
Categories: unwholesome,
Form: Quatrain

The Hornets of Hell

THE HORNETS of HELL


The hornets of hell swarm from their nest
Overwhelming all the victims they can.
To sting as many souls as possible
In their destruction of the glory of man.

They murder, rob, rape and plunder
While provoking the meek to submit.
They lie, deceive and mislead
And depend on the world to forget.

Eager to enhance their numbers
They are the cheerleaders of disgrace.
Their agendas of sin must be stopped
For the betterment of each race.

Endless is God’s test of time
To measure man’s spiritual worth
Unwholesome deeds tempt us all
Festering in the repugnance of earth.

The hornets of hell are on the hunt
In all directions by day or night.
The Armor of God shields man’s soul
And gives us our resolve to fight.

The champions of heaven in rapture await
To see who will stumble and fall.
They watch us struggle, in our world of woe
As they pray we will heed, God’s call.

Fools declare we must hide from view
And leave the hornets of hell alone
But when we ignore the liabilities of life
The failings of man become, our own.

By Tom Zart
© Tom Zart  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: unwholesome, adventure, death, faith, history,
Form: ABC


Premium Member The Ruba'Iyat of Creteil Lake - Part Thirteen

The Ruba’iyat of Créteil Lake – Part Thirteen

Oh! Woe! Woe! On pubic islet the dirty deed’s done
Bloodied needle leaves stain the Zen-rock cobbled garden
The derelict torn womb spills seminal fluids on the ground
Fallopian tubes shredded by the elements count down

Her mons veneris rough-scaled and crushed by bombarding rams
The cicatrised wooden ramparts no more serving as soil dams
Not a lamina of palmate leaf even so much as shaking hands
Where the maple tree once swayed to vulva-lapping tom-toms

This soggy desolation of mud and gangrened charred rock
Three weeping willows drooping wan lifeless at the water mock
Where even the wild fowl desert the juicy period spoils
Tell-tale signs of the Lady Lake’s pilloried grief in stock

Where the surgeon’s thrusting irons reigned now stands the shiny 
                    bridge
Three dark as dungeons evergreens bear lurid witness knowledge
Of an unwholesome demonic deed done to the locked-in Dame
Look! That Ancient Bard of Nishapur will surely acknowledge!

Hark! The tulip-lipped Lass from Lahore walks downcast on stones!
The Maiden of the Main lifts her head to utter bye-bygones!
Pale Ol’ Khayyam still roams dreaming of the Dame of the Lake!
Yet the foul deed still resounds up to the highest heavens! 

© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
© T Wignesan  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: unwholesome, dream,
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member The Ruba'Iyat of Creteil Lake - Part Six

The Ruba’iyat of Créteil Lake- Part Six

Awake! Dour Dreamer! And draw the curtain of benumbing clouds
Fairies hover by ears to whisper mantras dispelling doubts
Already unheeding magpies cluck rudely tongue-in-beak
And trans-continental flights from Orly pierce through rain clouds

Good hour or two has gone by since Metro Lac broke loose
Gardiens de paix drive into the buckle of her tresses noose
Barnacle geese strut at her feet preening proud feathers sleek
Mullahs wash their feet by fountains gushing djellaba loose

Murmuring Berber prayers from cowed heads rise to the skies
While lyceen innocence dries up on loud tutored lies
Do hotel beds lost in arbours get bought for sleep or trysts
Stompings on her esplanade nose-bridge: she frets and defies

Wake the dreamer of unwholesome dreams and set the hour right!
How long lone and stricken chained beneath the main tight!
“What ails thee beneath thy furrowed frown! O! Prisoner of sin!”
The tent-maker’s son still roams with galaxies drifting plight!

“Lift that gorgeous head just once: let us see those laser flashes
That make this lake look thunder-struck even through sun-glasses!”
Fitful sparrows in hedges and eaves seek not to share her thoughts
Oblivious Mall shoppers let slip lone tears from her gashes.

© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
© T Wignesan  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: unwholesome, dream,
Form: Quatrain

Wonderfully Made

Verse 1 
To go beyond comparison, no place to overplay 
The potter of unique design, brought new life to the clay
Unwholesome talk, within my walk, of that I will release 
I’m truly made in your image, I am your masterpiece 

Chorus 
Formed by your hand, beautiful and wonderfully made 
Knowing who I am, honouring the life you gave 
You have made a mark of victory 
To partake in your plan
I present a unique offering 
To the voice I understand 
I am wonderfully made

Verse 2 
Authentic worth, embrace your word, perspective unabridged 
To liberate and so create my spiritual heritage 
To this effect, I will protect your standard of measure
Your love endures, unconditional, of that I will treasure 

Chorus 

Bridge 
Guided by your hand, to direct my sphere of service 
Knowing who I am, created with a purpose 
With a chorus of praise, my song is made new
I will dwell in the essence, of a godly point of view 

Chorus 

Written by Geraldine Taylor ©?
Categories: unwholesome, beautiful,
Form: Lyric

A Slave To Love

They tell me I’m obsessed with you.
That makes it sound like something bad--
As if breathing were some twee fetish for oxygen,
Or eating, an unwholesome food-fixation.

Can being compelled by bonds so sweet be wrong,
Or happiness be held a noisome thing?
If this is slavery, then joy must be my chains,
My manacles your gentle smile, your kiss.

We gladly bend our necks to yokes so fair
When favored with the servitude of love! 

July 2, 2019

This little poem was written for the "Slave to love" contest, but was not considered good enough to place. Ah, well, chacun a son gout, I guess.  I must confess I am pleased with it, notwithstanding.
Categories: unwholesome, addiction, love,
Form: Free verse

Let Morning Come

At our home, in Rio and Rome, let morning come
In tattered twilight twin towers tumbling down
Beech Birch Banyan Neem being brought down
Your moon pales in homeless premonition
Let our madness calm, let morning come

Dark too much cumbersome let morning come
On the bank of Tigris a little boy plans to take up the guns
To no end, for no rose. Let morning come
Our habits, our rabbits, make them less unwholesome
Through the lattices in the wall, let morning come
________________________________________________________
18/9/2016
Note: Neem is a tree in the Mahogany family native to Indian subcontinent.
Categories: unwholesome, dream, metaphor, morning,
Form: Verse

Premium Member " a Mother's Day Rose"

To mother Pearl with roses
Who loves not lies nor poses
Dislikes neighbors that’s nosy
Likes good weather that’s rosy

Mom is a very good cook
Cooks from scratch not from a book
In cookbooks she never looks
Cook’s lessons she never took

Momma Pearl now eighty three
Hoes her own garden you see
Has her own freedom to be
An amazing Cherokee

Bothered not by who you are
She still chauffeur’s her own car
Believes work, we all must bear
Works for elderly health care

Believes, healthy, wealthy and wise
Means, living life without disguise
Loves not neighbor’s unwholesome  lies
But help’s him remove from his guise 

Her motto, don’t you be cheated
Living character defeated
With a love that is depleted 
A change in your life is needed

This poem I give, mother Pearl 
To thee your rose, while in this world
You’ve never been a party girl
Desired not give the world a whirl

Hester Pearl’s rose, not of this world!

For: My Own Living Mother
Sponsored by: Rambling Poet
Placed # 11
Categories: unwholesome, motherlife, mother,
Form: Rhyme

Upon Niger Bridge

Take no shock as we quiver in such trembling
As blood hunting critters, applaud our woeful quivering
By fiendish fireworks and guns souls bleed
All for a dotty tenet; an eerie greed
To gratify such unwholesome belief
Hence, stir souls dispatch; re-occurring grief.

When honey becomes unsavory and peace sees her demise
When bereft of hope, that no sermon sufficed
In berated fierce, we charged our chief lord
upon their terror obliterating our hopes,with its ravaging flood.

Bewildering! Their schemes, somewhat startling
From northerly point, our walls are falling 
With tears and death breaking brittle bones
Upon the spear of torture, we depart our homes
By their nefarious ambition, our faith abates
As rainbow wanes, abattoirs grew in rates
Nowhere on earth is safe, not even this cave
Their onslaughts drenched our being, so to early tomb our dreams we gave.

They invade our land in hellish rage
With countless ruins, blood curdling carnage	
So upon the rumbling rise of these evil hermits
The inferno of gruesome war we shall inhabit
If our chief security compromises our safety upon death threat
Then all out, we shall fight even with chocked breath
To the chief lord, anticipate the imminent fall of Niger wall
The bridge built by ancient sweat will crush by internal brawl

We shan’t in feeble courage watch our brothers’ burn like grass
Nor shall we crave another dirge upon uncouth arson that claimed a mass.
Tell them and their Godfathers ’’in-quote’’
When we invade their land; to ashes we shall swerve their worth
If their fierce is dreary, then our fierce is fierce
their soulless souls shall our ravenous swords pierce

let them retreat, and relinquish these gory riots
Else we assail their land with our chariots
Then Niger shall know the words of war
These daemons shall we damage, with their pious hearts and furs
But to curb this imminent war, shall he rise
To nail their souls on the path of demise	
Then by their own hands shall they shed their blood
Restless! Their wailing spirit shall have no abode

Else we by their blood bind them,
tonight shall be the last for our nations anthem.
Categories: unwholesome, anger,
Form: Lyric

Food For the Gods

Food For The Gods 



We overload young flesh
With hordes of old meat!
We defile bodies so fresh
With unwholesome treat

We forsake healthy veggies
In pursuit of fat steaks
We re-direct our wages
Where Butchers’ knife hacks!

Not fats by many a mass
Nor meat that is not clean
Our bodies need grass
For nutrients in the greens!

Not muscles of a brute
Effect of which is topsy-turvy
Our bodies need some fruit
To avert deadly scurvy!

We take in food a bulk
And yet, we exercise not
With embonpoint we skulk
Our zest becomes naught.

We soak ourselves in oil;
Salt an’ sugar is ever ours
Ill-health’s deadly recoil
Make us walk on all fours!

While we enjoy fried food,
Tasty and Junk food do revile.
Being unhealthy and not good
Our Health it does defile.

            *

Don’t e’er abandon fruit
For flesh in hot pursuit
Better be the Sea fish
Gracing our daily dish....

We sort o’ prefer to kill
Than pick our dish for fill 
Bulls face the worst fate-
Neutered ‘fore due date!

Let Vulture’s be your roughage
Or Hyena’s be your sausage-
For, we love eaters of grass
While we loath eating grass!


           *

Appetite wakes up wild
The very day it is reviled
But by this hand and this writ
I wish you healthy and fit!



** Dedicated to Dr. Ram MEHTA who inspired me with his poem: Alchemy, love-god’s dream.

JM



09th Oct’ 2013
Categories: unwholesome,
Form:

Wisdom's Call

Wisdom and understanding do raise their voice
On the stands beside the paths they yell that you make a choice; 
At the gates of bazaars both do cry hoarse and loud, 
And wonder how orderly the world would be if all fools vowed
To live according to their simple dictates, 
And leave all evil and unwholesome tastes.

When shall the simple gain understanding and prudence, 
And the unknowing embrace a life of sense? 
The Almighty detests deeds devoid of reason, 
For His perfect nature is never perverse
But just and fair in His rule over the universe; 
He thus like Him wants all men to be
For nothing short of this can His heart please; 
Not even valued incense offered my men of hearts remiss! 
 
Choose understanding over quick silver
And understanding over choice gold; 
All who these chose in the world of the old
All possessed and lacked not a single thing, 
For nothing desirable can be compared with wisdom; 
It is the ferocious guard to watch your home, 
And your delicious meal in the face of hunger! 

Fear the Lord and hate all evil
And it shall not destroy your grain any weevil; 
Hate the perversity of crooked and warped speech 
And among men of sense carve yourself a niche; 
Let counsel and sound speech be yours
For these alone are limitless power
To wield for help in the need's hour; 
When troubles and adversities betide, 
Wisdom is a sure place for you to hide.

In wisdom are enduring honor and prosperity, 
Truest valor and freedom from all forms of temerity; 
It's the only scape from all shackles that engulf, 
Amnesty from all follies that grind! 

They rule with justice and without fear of overthrow
The wise kings and princes who fear the Lord, 
Who marked the boundaries of the seas
And demarcations of the dry world! 

He who fixed the clouds and the firmaments, 
Has with Him all treasured endowments; 
Blessed be those that keep His ways
And many shall be their days
That hearken to His wisdom, 
Obey His decrees plain and clear, 
And His hallowed name fear! 

Be not beguiled by the cacophony and the hubbub, 
The law of the Lord remains unshaken and superb; 
And the fear of the Creator remains the only refuge
In the face of disaster and drowning deluge!
Categories: unwholesome, introspectionmen, world, fear, men,
Form: Pastoral
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