Best Versus Poems
My favourite pastime:
crafting poetry in rhyme
but not so this time
Ordered by Debbie:
from your comfy box break free
haiku it will be
Debbie, what's with you
to rhythm and rhyme I'm true
I loathe haiku
I'll stay in my sphere
sans rhythm poetry's *****
Oops! I rhymed in here
Love is the one-time experience that cannot be measured,
described or forgotten
while lust needs innovation to be boasted about and the other is dumped...
Love is the sensation for lifetime
while lust leaves room for others...
Love is hugged and to be lived with ever after consummation
but lust leaves you wanting for more...
Love fills you with a sweet sensation to be complete
while lust leaves you empty and drained with a hollow
in your heart and soul...
Love gives you a reason to live
while lust leads to self-destruction...
Love gives you something to cherish throughout life
while lust makes you bitter and revengeful...
Love makes you beautiful while lust makes you ugly...
And, Love makes you human while lust makes you inhuman!
1/07/17
“And God is able to make all grace abound toward you; that ye, always having all sufficiency in all things, may abound to every good work.” 2 Corinthians 9:8 of the King James Bible; "What shall we say then? Shall we continue in sin, that grace may abound?" Romans 6:1 KJV
God’s grace abounds where guilt does hide
As pardon reigns above sin’s pain
There --- mercy, hope and love reside.
God’s grace abounds where guilt does hide
Since divine forgiveness smites pride
Toward triumph of blissful gain.
God’s grace abounds where guilt does hide
As pardon reigns above sin’s pain.
My mind and heart will never be friends.
Sworn enemies, they wrestle and box
for control of me, the battle never ends
like the tick tocking pendulums of clocks
I ask my mind when it keeps me awake,
"Tell me, what do you think I should do?"
It growls and huffs, "Oh, for goodness' sake.
If you heed your heart, it will lead you askew!"
It went on to tell me to slow down to a crawl,
and I shouldn't hurry to make a quick decision.
It compared me to Humpty Dumpty on the wall,
headed for a fall and on course for a collision.
I'm weary of refereeing their constant scuffle,
especially when it concerns falling in love or not.
I keep smoothing the crumpled feathers they ruffle.
When they argue I'm the one put on the hot spot!
When I ask my heart, " Will you lead me astray?"
I can feel it ache as though it's crying deep inside.
It replied, "My emotions are not easy to convey,
but from love's fervor you should not choose to hide.
Falling in love is a risk and a big decision to make.
Your mind may be a sage with words and thought,
but there's much to lose if real affection you forsake.
No mind can feel the love that lives in your heart."
An unresolved dilemma, so I petitioned my soul,
but it remained mute, mind nor heart did it refute.
"Which one of you should I trust with control?"
That became the cornerstone for another dispute.
Mind: "Heart, I knew to your whim she'd concede."
Heart: "She chose to love and fulfill her great need."
The incorrect usage of tense
And phrases of total nonsense
Wipe out brain status
With more apparatus
Than the Department of Defense
Ocean Versus Pool
The
days
are hot,
the water
cool, but unlike days
beside my pool, the ocean lives
a moving thing, with surf and sand it has its fling, and
far out past the eye can see, instead of woods, the sky meets sea…delightful choice for me!
© Sandra M. Haight 2015
All Rights Reserved
~6th Place~
Contest: Fibonacci
Sponsor: Rob Carmack
Judged: 03/14/2015
Syllables Checked: 1-1-2-3-5-8-13-21
.
4/30/18
The prequel
Of good vs. evil
Did they ever consider each other equal?
One side peaceful
The other deceitful
In the beginning
Neither side was really winning
As the globe continued spinning
Brimming
With things that were living
Meanwhile one was only taking and one was giving
Back to the Earth while grinning
While existing
One was focused on fixing
And enriching
All the while being uplifting
The other one was drifting
And always tricking
So a bad reputation began sticking
Endless blood spilling
From all the senseless killing
Sad that they found it thrilling
Next came the middle
Each side continuing to chisel
Away at the other little by little
Even though it never was all that simple
One remaining civil
The other trying to swindle
And cripple
But the opposing side wouldn't let it all dwindle
There had to be an end
Did no good to pretend
One a true friend
The other only there to condescend
One wants you to ascend
The other wants to see you descend
One would send
You flowers and a letter that was penned
The other wants you dead
And to never see you again
There's something to be said
For those that bit the hand that fed
One saw many opportunities ahead
The other was always seeing red
Finally here comes the sequel
For the people
Still to this day good and evil
Co-exist as they have for many a siecle
By: Dalton Ogletree
We forget lessons learnt in moments of bliss.
Our minds wiped clean with a passionate kiss.
To attain something called love we take a risk.
You indulged in lust and lost your focus.
I fell into a trap with out even knowing.
I accepted dark glazed with
light ,tempted by the glowing.
Lust never helped my
heart and its growing.
The juices of your genital was
the only thing flowing.
You see lust and love are to different things.
Lust unfurls the condoms ring.
Love unfurls a wedding ring.
I want more than lust.
I needed your love loyalty and trust.
Thus that's were the fuss started with us...
You wanted my flesh,I wanted your soul.
I guess that's why two different stories were told
Caput et Versus
Many a saga have been written....................
*Link in notes to see complete poem
In the deepest part
of myself
Sits a work of art
Some folk are prone to love affairs
For sex rewards the one who dares
They are hot to trot
Because they forgot
Miracles don't happen in pairs!
I work in the retail sector
and everyone's gone mad.
It's really very amusing.
It's really very sad.
Toilet paper and sanitizers
have flown right out the door.
Though everyone is asking
we've no idea when we'll get more.
The face masks of every type
are hoarded like they're gold.
Even the ones for dust or painting.
But those hoarders can't be told.
The painters and the contractors
are getting pretty mad
since the ones they need for their jobs
are no where to be had.
Panic is setting in
and everyone's afraid.
But off to work we go
because we just need to get paid.
The N-95 face masks
( the ones they really need)
are limited to six per customer,
a lot of whom can't read.
We wipe the counters diligently,
the keypads and scanners too.
We don't want the coronavirus
but we understand it's just a flu.
Wash your hands, don't touch your face.
It doesn't seem that tough,
and if you're sick, just stay home.
We can't emphasize this enough.
~~~~~~~~~~~
12/03/2020
theres two types of gangs to join
you dont have to flip a coin
to know which one that you need
once gets you in trouble
the other helps you succeed
the gang at school is called a club
it keeps you off the streets and drugs
so do what i did and be strong
by choosing right clubs, and not wrong
like the smoking council where i taught
kids what would happen if they thought
cigarettes made you look cool
smoking them with friends at school
the newspaper was hard but fun
we couldnt leave till it was done
making sure that every story
was interesting and not boring
the chess club was a real treat
my competition was so neat
against a boy that was not grinning
when i called out check mate from winning
Poetry is something I do not understand
Words my soul reads and instantly recognizes,
Leaping about in joy, yelling "let's try to do that!"
words tossed in a way I never could
romantical and metaphoric
charming, delightful, or frightful
Poetry is not something I do,
it is something I aspire to learn
as I write verse
I write verse
Pretending it is poetry
hoping no one will call me out.
Sometimes I throw in end rhymes
Hoping to fool those who do not see what I do
That poetry is impossible for most of us
who smoke and mirror our way through,
being the greatest pretenders of all.
'Twas the night before Christmas, and there sat the Grouch,
waiting for Santa and his present filled pouch.
I'm sure that all of you have heard of the Grinch,
but the Grouch is far worse, at least by one inch.
That vile and distasteful sixty-six year old man
had been writing poems which he pitched in a can.
To tell you the truth, I don't think you've met a
man with a more implacable vendetta.
His heart was cold as a hard frozen icicle.
As a kid, Santa never brought him a bicycle.
So, when the fat fella came down through the chute,
the Grouch was there waiting to lodge his dispute.
The grumpy man challenged St. Nick to twelve rounds,
and the two commenced boxing, no holds out of bounds.
The two of them danced, and they bobbed, and they weaved.
If it wasn't true, it could not be believed.
I must say, it was an incredible fight.
There were jabs, upper cuts, a left hook and a right,
but in the twelfth round, to the sound of a crunch,
Santa connected with a strong roundhouse punch.
The Grouch smiled as he looked up from the ground,
and he saw little birds, heard a sweet tweeting sound.
He saw so many things that anyone would like,
and he saw a shining candy-apple red bike.
From that day on, he was happy as a joker.
He even invited Santa Claus to play poker.
I'm happy to say, he's no longer the Grouch,
and the townsfolk, with feeling, say, "he's no slouch."