Best Upmanship Poems


Premium Member Toms Travels

In a show of manic one-upmanship
With my wife saying, “Just get a grip.”
I planned an adventure to show I’m well travelled
The spoiler to that is the whole thing unravelled

I looked at the brochures and boy was I keen
Determined to find somewhere Tom hadn’t been
That man is a nomad, he never sits still
He just grabs a suitcase and travels at will

[At this point please lend me a bit of your time
for this advance warning of appalling rhyme]
My legs are so white that I ought to be sunning ’em
I’ll find somewhere warm that’s eluded Tom Cunningham

I made a quick sandwich with pickle from Branston
And then thought EUREKA…I’ll call Richard Branson
I sold a few organs and Gran’s silver spoon
And raised enough money to fly to the moon

He said he does orbits then back down to earth
A trip to the moon was more grief than it’s worth
I grabbed Branson’s beard and said “Listen to me,
you’re gonna help me outdo Mr C.”

Well, long story short, I arrived on old Luna
Tom might have planned it but I got there sooner
Then a little green man said, “Is Earth where you’re from?
When you get back home again… say ‘Hi’ to Tom.”
Categories: upmanship, humorous, travel,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member One-Upmanship

(Shakespearean Sonnet)

The blue-grass music blares from speaker's face
as guys and gals entwine moon-round the floor,
she sits alone, ignores the dancers' pace
although her ears record the rhythm score.

He begged her love; he painted instant fame.
She nursed her song in dreams alive to wit, 
she trusted him to give the verse her name,
and reasoned out they spun a perfect fit.

With traitor's greed intense, he stepped aside,
and claimed her song as his with no remorse.
He left her raw, his chest out-puffed with pride.
Disgraced, abased, her anger reinforced,

	she writes another song, recounts the tale,
	assured his star will now commence to pale.
© Cona Adams  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: upmanship, betrayal, love hurts, music,
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member Judgmental Eye

Egocentric, engaged in games of one-upmanship
I developed a jaundiced and judgmental eye
Over time, losing over mind-body my grip

Belied expectations oft made heart sigh
My reflex response was to put others down 
Mocking both the living and dead, saw love die

Lines on face hardened, sarcasm bore a frown
Demonic dreams deepened my dark despair 
In images thus conjured, I began to drown

It was a Joro spider that made me aware
When a small sunbird was caught in its net
Defying base instinct, it released her with care

I took this as a message to change my mindset
Enabled simply by melding head with heart
Taking no more, mere rebuffs as a threat

I now mock myself; it is a learnt art
Choosing slow consciousness correction
Simply mindfully and gently, adding love to cart

Soul centric introspection cajoles us to shift direction
Igniting bliss within, paving way for soul’s resurrection
Categories: upmanship, judgement, love, spiritual,
Form: Terza Rima

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Believe

So hard to really know what to believe
on news presented to us every day;
as if our world's divided into two
opposing groups interpreting each fact-
and truth lies hidden in a misty fog.

In bygone days, old movie theaters brought
us news on film before the featured show
to be the only way shown on a screen.
With no confusion, what was right or wrong;
commitment to believe was held by most.

Then, later on, TV gave instant news-
not then presented as a drama show
competing for high ratings as the goal.
Unbiased, basic facts to us were served-
devoid of changing them to showbiz art.

Belief is shattered by the news today;
our media so quickly spins reports.
The competition with each other steals
one-upmanship to push their biased facts.
Believe- a word not honored in our thoughts.


March 5, 2023

Contest: B--Forms and Words Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Sotto Poet
Chosen Word: Believe
Categories: upmanship, betrayal, how i feel,
Form: Blank verse

Premium Member Buller Boys

Beyond the imposing and the high iron gate
The picturesque setting of the Oxford University
Situates the hedonistic oriented Bullingdon Club
Founded more than 200 years ago.

The socially exclusive students get the invitation
To join the Club as its elite members
Many of whom have attained prominence
And position of power in Britain’s political arena.

The ill-famed Club is known for 
Its wealthy members and their notorious behavior
Partaking in the boisterous rituals such as
Vandalizing restaurants and students’ rooms.

The Club’s colors are sky blue and shining ivory
Seen on the tailcoats the members wear
For the annual dinner where the drunken revelers
Greet each other chanting “buller, buller, buller”.

The Club has survived the roller-coaster ride
Lurching between frequent recruitment crises
And nearly facing the shut down
But the buller has a way of bouncing back.

The distinctiveness of its haughty members 
Reflected in their one-upmanship attitude
Took them to eminence along the tough tracks
The outside world is skeptic about their dubious traits. 

____________

April 7, 2023
Contest : Bullingdon Boys
Spoinsored by : Joe Maverick
Categories: upmanship, celebrity, student,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Drum Circle - February 16, 2018

DRUM CIRCLE
FEBRUARY 16, 2018

Tonight we talked to the earth
with our drums, our pulsating prayers
a rhythm and blues, a galloping growl,
an angry lament, a wretched outpouring
at the new Hunger Moon, at the latest mass
shooting, at a winter of despair in an amoral
era of high-tech and hate!
The Yoruba wail and the Lakota chant,
the bells on the drums and the tattooed dancer
joined with the chorus of tired social workers
and special-ed teachers, jet engine mechanics,
and the mysterious ascetic in the black turtle
neck whose shock of white hair was a bright
moral beacon in a room of the sad, of the
angry, and the mad seeking forgiveness and shelter
in the Gaian Intelligence that is host to our
souls and mothers our wounds when our arts and
our sciences can no longer explain the meaningless
violence, the one-upmanship, and the perpetually
disagreeable political declarations at the center of 
our lives!
“Call Me!” She said, and the drummers grew
louder! “I said CALL ME!” she said, and we all
realized that she didn’t want praise or some fervent
demonstration through a ritual of worship, but the
heart of our hearts, the essence of our lives,
perhaps a promise to our mother to stop behaving
this way and to bathe in her waters, build circles of
stone, light our fires in the middle, and then…..
drum softly with conviction and dance with our
neighbors, reveling in the knowledge that
all we can discern is a gift from beyond,
a pulsating, breathing, nurturing anomaly
sacred, somehow, created only for us!
Categories: upmanship, spiritual,
Form: Free verse


Spaghetti Soup

P erky poets penning perfect poetry
O f ordeals, oppressions, over joyfulness 
E ntreating, enticing, exciting entries
T elling the tales told through time
R ich rhyming romance, riddles and rib-ticklers  
Y es!

S avouring sensual seductive spaghetti soup 
O n lookers ovations of one-upmanship 
U niting us in ultramodern, understanding of
P oetry
Categories: upmanship, people, sensual,
Form: Alliteration

Premium Member Political Tit For Tat

Political Tit For Tat
Tom’s Opinion
2-5-2020

A partisan divide hovers over Washington today,
there’s no middle ground, when children act this way.

Once elected, some appear, to think voters are ancillary,
and they return to superior thinking and being contrary.

Good will in Government was a time that has passed,
To their objective of one upmanship, they’re steadfast.

Having the last word has become the name of the game,
our elected officials have cloaked our country in shame.

Many, when refusing to stand, perpetuates derision,
and the peoples needs aren’t served when there’s division.

With no respect for the office the speaker tears up a speech,
and as history records this, more negativity it will teach.

Simple disagreements shouldn’t political enemies make,
We need real Christian leadership for our country’s sake.


Daniel 2:21 
King James Version
And he changeth the times and the seasons: he removeth kings, and setteth up kings: he giveth wisdom unto the wise, and knowledge to them that know understanding:
© Tom Wright  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: upmanship, anger, bullying, peace, political,
Form: Couplet

Premium Member Mind Block

Inspirations flow no more,
although we seek an encore,
an urge rooted in ego,
which we are loathe to forgo.

Habit patterns control us,
plateaus after peaks, nonplus,
for our yearning’s to expand,
as of restless heart’s demand.

Though to a tree, were once bound,
autumn leaves fall to the ground,
yet when it comes to ourself,
desires remain on the shelf.

Change is inevitable,
so let’s make our heart stable ~
vibrant, witness consciousness,
entwined with the That oneness.

It’s all about ownership,
mind game of one-upmanship.
Why then hanker for our muse,
amidst beauteous life’s hues?

29-May-2022
Categories: upmanship, muse, poets,
Form: Jueju

Premium Member The Narcissist In Rhyme

Narcissism shows its ugly head in so many ways
Sharp put-downs to show one’s superiority
A heightened sense of one’s importance, and
Usurping, whenever possible, another’s authority.

Self-deceiving, and never able to admit defeat
Being in love with themselves, misplaced vanity
Slipping into unbelievable fantasy and self-delusion
If not properly treated, it can lead to insanity.

Taking credit for the accomplishments of others
Thinking that nobody can do anything better
Setting oneself up as the expert in everything
Even playing the role of a renowned jet-setter.

One-upmanship, of course, is a favorite ploy
Having done anything you have done and more
Must be noticed, front row, in every picture
At every gathering the consummate bore.

Do not believe words from a narcissist’s mouth
For lying is second nature to the oafish boor
Constantly engage in building themselves up
Most of them are rotten right down to the core.

Written June 13, 2021
Categories: upmanship, mental illness, people, psychological,
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member Working Together

People like to take the credit and assign all the blame
It really is a selfish way to go about playing the game
Everyone embellishes their input when the praise is poured
But when things stumble and others grumble their contributions they ignore

If we focused our attention on the task at hand
Having one single goal that everyone can understand
Efficiently and effectively contribute what we can
That would make, it seems to me, a much better plan

Knowing that the job’s done well deep down in your heart
Not letting egos and one-upmanship tear the team apart
Share the credit, knowing well, there’s plenty to go around
Is the quickest way to success is the lesson that I found

So if you are one of those folks that need credit for the work
Worried more about rewards and the newest company perk
I respectfully ask you please not to apply for this position
Because we’re a team and that means a united composition
© Joe Flach  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: upmanship, work
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Fire And Gasoline Twosome

"Watch out for these two! A disastrous inferno" - quote by poet.


    Talk about the definition of trouble!
 Two people tainted with potent toxicity.
 As if either of the two isn't bad enough.
  Such up-to-no-good partners in crime
 Walking down a crooked primrose path.

   Keep a sizeable distance from them!
   They're a fire and gasoline twosome;
 An oil and water combination, no doubt.
  Think of a Bonnie and Clyde dynamic.
      Think a film noir femme-fatale...

    And a malleable, meek private eye.
  Oh, the twisted mind games they play; 
 It's a constant game of one-upmanship
  And manipulation against one another.
   Did I mention they rob and kill, too?
Categories: upmanship, encouraging, evil, metaphor, people,
Form: Narrative

Premium Member We Walk Alone

From birth to death, each of us walks alone,
in as a narrative we wish to feel,
thus as we embrace, release and atone,
we rely on God’s love and light to heal.
In a subject-object relationship,
we believe ourself to be feeble form
and engaged in games of one-upmanship,
earth life for most part, is a turbid storm.
We know not who we are and yet live on,
in pursuit of ephemeral desires
and so it continues, both praise and scorn,
until the day our exhausted heart tires.
Shifting horizons now hold no appeal,
somewhat diminished is our zest and zeal.

Somewhat diminished is our zest and zeal,
discovering our efforts were in vain,
upon which in altar of God we kneel,
praying love and light glows in heart again.
Recognising that we script not our fate,
shifting into silence, we become still,
making our heart once more, childlike and chaste,
that by grace divine, voids within may fill.
Having thus relinquished our thought flow crutch,
we surrender, melding head with our heart,
ingraining direct wisdom by soul’s touch,
mindfully choosing to add love to cart.
Emptiness then, is the way to begin;
cave of heart’s open, so we go therein.

Cave of heart’s open, so we go therein,
remaining aware with nary a care,
whereupon we feel magnetism plug-in,
cajoling our polarities to pair.
As a receptor, there’s nothing we do,
for to be truthful, there is no road map 
and each nuance felt is pristine and new,
drawing us to God by closing the gap.
We shout from the rooftops but no one hears,
unable to comprehend the bliss flame,
held in benign currents, God Himself steers,
revealing deep wisdom that has no name.
In a realm dual, in bondage to mind,
we know not the truth, because we are blind.

We know not the truth, because we are blind
but now having seen, with our inner eye,
we cognise God is wise, loving and kind,
known if we agree to let ego die.
We cling to identity, which is not,
in as it is merely a thought construct 
but on shifting to heart, as we all ought,
our false self dies, we see it self-destruct.
It is clear that although monks wish to share,
the wisdom sublime, they have so imbibed,
those who refuse to see, just cannot pair,
enslave by ego, which has always lied.
Harvest of grace is reaped, as of seeds sown;
from birth to death, each of us walks alone.
Categories: upmanship, spiritual,
Form: Crown of Sonnets

Premium Member Ashtavakra Gita Verse 20:9

20.9
“Where is distraction, concentration, 
knowledge or delusion?
Where is joy or sorrow?
I am Stillness”

Verse revisited on 29-December-2022

 Let’s keep this verse simple
By resting thought forms nimble
Just as we look at any other object
The thought will arise, subside, eject
There being no identity doership
No games of one-upmanship
Awareness self-aware renews
Pulse of aliveness in myriad hues
In an aspect of embrace and release
Holding not onto the involuntary sneeze
Vaporised soul presence ever blissful
Beholds play of dream life beautiful 
Transcending sensory joy and pain
Mind-body cleansed from stain
Enabled by rapture of divine bliss
The here and now being all there is
Partaking of soma nectar bliss potion
Celebrating life as a splash in the ocean
One with That oneness, time too yields
To the omnipotent power God wields 
And so transformed as living light
Heightened is our soul’s delight
We dance as such and yet are still
Having surrendered fully to God’s will
In timeless time becoming the bliss flame 
We’re That that may be assigned no name
Categories: upmanship, spiritual,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Stoop To Conquer

Spiritual practice is doomed from the start,
since any ritual involves our doership
and therefore unless ego’s made to depart,
futile is our meditation or worship,
unless ofcourse we choose to add love to cart,
exiting shallow game of one-upmanship,
whereupon once no agenda is tabled,
by God's grace, soul's ascension is enabled.

28-December-2022
Categories: upmanship, prayer, spiritual,
Form: Ottava rima
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