Best Well Bred Poems
This is a message to children who lack sincerity in school. Hard work always gives easy success. Whatever hardwork we do during our school days, decides our future for entire life. Its not only about studies but the sincerity which is developed along with it.
This is a story of two brothers.
Who lived together forever.
Both enjoyed the dignity of a patrician.
Well bred with values and tradition.
Sharp contrast of a Strategician and a tactician.
JUXTAPOSITION OF HARDWORK DURING SCHOOL DAYS
Given his druthers, Veerang would skip studies,
Would escape to play snooker and pool with buddies.
A boaster, prodigal spender and his pathological lies.
Hard work during childhood is just about studies, he didn’t realize.
Krishnang, sincere and studious, positive and jovial.
Help to mom, a great company to sisters, extremely capable.
Topper in school, loved by all, he was just so amiable.
Yes, both grew together.
One believed in hard work, another preferred leisure.
JUXTAPOSITION OF HARDWORK DURING ADULT HOOD
With freedom comes responsibility.
It’s not only about us but our family’s and parent’s dignity.
Hard work during childhood decides our ability.
Yes, our capabilities and the possibilities
In a way our acceptability and applicability.
Krishnang, goes for holidaying across nations.
Veerang is still striving to boil the ocean
What an irony, hardwork now is a compulsion.
JUXTAPOSITION POETRY CONTEST
Sponsored by: Silent One
Date: 21st Nov; 2020
His voice the hiss of serpents,
he acknowledged the pact unmade,
but now he was here to tell him
how the debt would be repaid.
"All your sons, and all their sons,"
the devil's eyes glowed red,
"will perish while still very young,
yes, all of them, cold and dead."
With that, the devil vanished,
not long after, Joseph died,
and Jack, now the eldest,
found his career on the rise.
He married a well-bred woman,
she made a beautiful bride,
but their first-born child, a son,
very quickly died.
But how the public loved him,
the White House was Camelot,
but Satan hadn't forgotten,
and guided Oswald's shot.
Next in line was Bobby,
and he soon, too, was slain,
now Edward became paranoid,
though justified, ashamed.
Edward wasn't pleased with God,
the curse of his surname,
he knew someone would kill him,
if only for the fame.
And, one day, those fateful words
slipped through his lips as well,
the devil appeared as a gent,
and with a pact to sell.
Now, Edward was not evil,
but perhaps a little weak,
vehemently he refused, at first,
but Satan continued to speak.
The devil knew his weak spots,
affirmed he'd soon be dead,
then offered an alternative,
made up of hope and dread.
"You will live a long and worthwhile life,
and your children will live, too,
but in exchange for these gifts,
there are two things you must do:
You must find a young and innocent girl
and give her soul to me.
You, alone, must take her life,
but you'll escape scot-free.
The other thing you must give me
is your most passionate dream,
that is, to become president,"
the devil's smile obscene.
Well, Chappaquiddick happened,
and he got off scot-free,
I think he tried to be the best,
most honorable he could be.
But Satan keeps his promises,
and John-John's plane went down,
and now the pact is finished,
for there's no more left around.
©Danielle White
Finally you asked for dog’s point of view -
The dialogue of depth, long overdue.
Without a word I’m whistling in the dark,
Articulation’s muffled by the bark.
Seems all I need is to frolic and play,
It’s true, but man! I have a lot to say!
Firstly, thank you for making my dog’s life
Domesticated bliss versus tramp’s strife.
Grateful I am, loved, trimmed, walked, bathed and fed,
Well-groomed and I would like to think, well-bred.
Anatomy and science, not my strength,
Honored that pampering goes to great length;
I must be one exquisite species group,
Since my poop is collected in a scoop.
But I often question, why am I spayed?
While my master so frequently gets laid!
If deemed as your best friend, a well-known claim,
Isn’t making me beg for treats a shame?
Sit down, shake your paw, play dead, dance and prance –
Shallow, degrading, ludicrous commands.
For you I’d sacrifice my life, my friend,
I’d snarl, chase, leap and tackle to no end.
I pretty much follow one petsy rule -
You got the bone, thus over you I drool.
But, master, while I’m fetching your thrown sticks,
Don’t waste your time teaching old dog new tricks.
Be aware I’m an easy pet to crack!
If you love me, I’ll always love you back!
June 6, 2022
The demons that made entry in my head
Were destined to create unwelcome pain
Though courtesy, respect would be well bred
From hospitality I shall abstain
Temptation’s there to sink beneath the waves
Submit to sorrow, sympathize my woes
And follow others sadly to our graves
Create sardonic vision for the crows
But now to you invaders who afflicted
This body, causing life force to be drained
Take notice that I will not be addicted
But take up arms, submission is not deigned
I will confront these guests with hope not vain
‘ til they or I are ultimately slain
14 August 2019
8 Word Challenge Poetry Contest
Tom Price phones up John Ely.
"I hear you sell some of the best horses in the county
I'm sending out my best guy if he likes the goods
we're buying one of your horses.
My guy is a midget with a speech impediment just to give you the heads up"
he concluded and hung up the phone.
The stud groom waited until the midget knocked on the door.
"Hello, I've come to check out your hortheth", said the midget.
"Sure, do you want a male horse or a female horse ?" asked the stud groom.
"A female horth, pleath" said the midget, so off they went to look at the horses. One lovely well bred filly caught the midgets eye.
"Can I check her ears pleath ?" said the midget - so the stud groom lifted up the midget to check the horses ears, then put him back down.
"Nith ears.......... now can I look at her eyth, pleath ?" - once again the stud groom lifted up the midget to check the horses eyes, then put im
down again.
"Nith eyth ............ now I'd like to thee her **** pleath"
The stud groom was shocked and a bit offended, so he lifted up the midget and shoved him
head first into the rear area of the horse and put him back down again.
The midget coughed and spluttered, and then said....................
"Perhapth I should rephwase that...... can I see her wun awound a widdle bit ?"
16~12~2014
Thoughts raised questions,
mysteries lead to discoveries.
Nyquist’s analog signal digitalization,
led to the electronic world modernization.
The door to victory is never known.
Opportunities towards success could be blown.
Choosing a path already chosen,
is safe yet done by a dozen.
But a road – not – taken is freshly paved,
which an opportunist considers being plagued.
Victory being unbiased,
could be claimed by an Ant or an Elephant.
A loser who is well bred,
shall rise and shine against any opponent.
Failures obscure a path well led,
leading to the novel achievement
A strategist sets to sail,
without dropping an anchor on failing.
Rowing through storms and paddling,
through the wrath without bailing.
The forest of success,
where flora and fauna are in million.
strategist encountering ferocious lion,
to grab a dandelion,
who dares to use a Venus fly trap,
as his guide map.
These are the life lessons of wildlife,
Engraving wounds of memories like a knife.
A winner with pumping adrenaline first crosses the finish line.
Loser slips the borderline,
racing to create the headlines.
When I felt I was under
judgmental power,
it worried me.
Those causes
brought me running
down the hill straight home
sit by my desk
hold my pen write,
while listening to the sound
of the clock chiming,
with a hope,
when I leave my chair
my life would change.
I was once a woman
of style shinning,
yet they judged me
as a tedious unreasonable
unpleasant unqualified
for their society.
I felt once unique universal
they judged me,
as an undesirable person
with no feelings.
I felt once as a tenacious
and tender woman,
I was judged as superficial
sullen suitable only
to suffer.
I once felt talented with tact
but they saw me
as a talkative
stubborn woman
uncreative.
I was once welcomed
well known well bred,
they judged me as vulnerable
with no vitality unlucky
worthless,
a zero.
I felt once I was a warm
warm hearted woman,
today I am washed out
weeping, unwilling
to fight back,
as my insight withered.
I am wounded weak
because of them.
At the beginning
I was always right
today I am always
wrong.
Therese Bacha
7 July 2013
Yes,
She
Wore a
College girl's
Skirt and sweater and
A barrette in her shoulder length
Hair. She was the college girl of fifteen years ago.
She hadn't kept up with the times the way others had and she had a low-pitched, well-bred
Voice that many people said was subtly insulting.
And confidence and homeliness
Not often seen—met
Together
In one
Face-
One.
......Africa my Africa.......
A land flowing with milk and honey
based on the Ancestral Savanna
A land of beauty and radiance
A land of strong warriors and built men
A land of strong men with forsight
A land where tobacco has its root deep into the loamy
Africa my Africa
Africa my Africa
A land filled with beautiful maidens
Maidens of honor and warmth
sweets is the smell of their palm
the rows in her hair defines her elegance
A land of well bred princess of motherhood
A land of sweet smell in its field
Africa my Africa
Africa my Africa
A land of patriotic citizens
A land of unending opportunites
A place filled with rythme and sound of music in the air
land where culture has its root
Africa my Africa
Oh how i long for my Africa
the joy that fills my heart when i move closer can not be describe
I long for my Africa,
I love my Africa
Africa gives me warmth and hope for a better day
Africa oh my Africa
I think your natural habitat is bed.
Although you do so nicely,
in your kitchen, baking bread,
and when at the dining table,
can enjoy the cheapest red,
still, I think your natural habitat is bed.
You paint truly lovely pictures,
in all colours, blue to red,
write some you beaut bonzer verse,
as swells a modest feller's head,
but you're at your most creative
when cavorting with clothes shed.
So I think your natural habitat is bed.
You're really such a lot of fun
at things much better left unsaid
but should we laugh the way we do?
Should we groan some more instead?
Perhaps neighbours might be thinking
we ain't really too well bred?
But you're such a lovely lady
and I'm so very easy led
so I think your natural habitat is bed.
the aura, godspeed ahead.
her countenance more than slaked,
it’s heated and apple baked.
fifty-somethings march with time…
sue ellen’s court supporting their queen,
with fanfare tea parties and costumes to preen.
steeped in fanciful color, like a dream at seventeen.
friendship and euphoria, sisters, well-bred
primped in gowns, fedoras and blossom in purple and red.
You might see me in the back streets
By the light of the full moon
With my look refined and cunning
I will almost make you swoon
Don't treat me as an enemy
Or fear me as a foe
Don't use evil words against me
I'm a well-bred soul, you know
I'm a smooth, suave, refined old chap
A four-legged paradox
Oblige me for a moment, please
- I'm an urbane urban fox
You've seen me on my rounds
But I'm not heading for your bins
No - you're far too quick to judge me
Though, I confess - I have my sins
One must eat to live, of course
I'll not claim to be benign
But I am a gracious, civil guest
Where're I choose to dine
The hen house holds a great appeal
And I know how to pick the locks
I do that with true style though
I'm an urbane urban fox
My poise and affable demeanour
Give me access to any Mayfair club
I'm a cut above the rural fox
Who seems happy with his "pub"
I'm not one to judge, of course
I'm far too cool for that
But jeans and a checked shirt?
No! I choose a jacket and cravat
No pints for me - it's G & T
Or Martini on the rocks
Oh yes, darling, I really am
An urban urbane fox
I can capture your attention
With my wit and sharp brown eyes
I'm keen to make a business deal
Should my nose smell enterprise
My fur is sleek, groomed and neat
My tail swishes to impress
My paw is keen to shake your hand
When I'm ready to invest
I truly never miss a trick
When opportunity knocks
I'm cordially yours
I'm an urbane urban fox
I enjoy reading high-brow lit
Classical music was written for me
Opera sets my spine a-tingle
So does ballet, naturally
I go shootin' with my country pals
As for skiing - I'd rather not
I find dancing is a pleasure though
I love the Charleston and Fox Trot
But don't class me as a Liberal
I am rather orthodox
Let's steer clear of politics
I'm an urbane urban fox
I'm polished. Well-mannered. Chic.
Rich beyond compare
Elegant and gallant
And oh, so debonair
But yes, I walk the city streets
In the hours before the dawn
There's something about the smell, you see
To which I'm somehow, strangely drawn
Don't judge me for that, please I'm just
A four-legged paradox
I thank you for your time
- With love. Your urban urbane fox
Written 10th April 2016
Far beyond the oceans deep,
in an unknown land
lived the loveliness’ own bird,
dear like golden sand.
Feathers made of rainbow light
well-bred was her will,
for the sad she gave her tears
healing dead and ill.
Aye - she was beloved, but …
then she was betrayed!
Feathers felt in mans fume out;
help is always late.
Heart broke.
Her lovely spirit darkened
like a cloud in spring
when her life was broken down
like a golden ring.
With wings of leather suffering
she was found again.
One more time she had to face
love - and the pain then.
Heart broke as crystal splitters.
Her eyes transformed to red.
scales suit skins surface
fire was her breath -
she became a dragon.
Deep inside her entity
still the phoenix lives.
Loves the music, loves the joy
loves whoever gives
her the love and kindness back
that she does deserve
And in friendships fire blaze
she will face rebirth.
One day I heard a knock
Or more a rapid tap upon my door.
It brought me not acute alarm,
For it was noonday by the clock
And noontime rarely brings one harm,
So with my midday tea I crossed the floor.
I took a cautious look,
Through entryway devices in the wall
Known only by my spouse and I
And were well hidden in the nook
Where unseen eyes allow no lie
From ill-willed strangers who might choose to call.
When I peeked out this day
I gazed upon a rather portly man
Of middle years and fine attire.
A well bred man one then could say
But said today they'd be a liar;
No "well bred man" this man of darker plan!
I opened wide my door of oak
Which as it hung weighed over half a ton.
But physics did allow that weight
And we've had not a single bloke
To realign the door to this estate;
When intellect's applied the job gets done.
This stranger stiffened straight
Then from his waist he gave a courtly bow.
I smiled at him and said "come in"
And little did he hesitate
Before his rotund body pushed within
Without a pause or cause to disallow.
I turned to see his rear
Still moving deeper through my sacred place.
I heard myself let loose a shout
Which was a shout no doubt of fear
Of what this stranger was about
And why this rude intrusion of my space?
To chase away despair,
we love and we desire
for a joyous affair;
to love is being higher.
And lest our heart's well-fed,
it will take another:
a lover who's well-bred,
and not any other.
Love goes on forever;
it never ends or dies,
or ceases, if ever,
and bars its own demise.
So, if love's unending,
then our joy's transcending.