Best Well Spoken Poems
When you said to me,
"Climb up here, It's pollution free."
Sacred. Safe.
Your rarefied air.
Calculating, you seemed so free.
Safeguard. Sage.
I said I could breathe...
Underrated your density.
Saintly. Sane.
High-minded insight.
When anticipated terror
denuded me,
cool rarefied air
regulated insanity,
far gone fear.
I will breathe
in your rarefied air.
Let it burn brisk
in brittle, brave lungs.
Gasp and grasp
life's flame, full flare.
Lunge for high notions,
those far-flung schemes.
I will breathe in
High mind's smoke,
hung in air-
that ghostly stroke of genius,
rare token in disguise
Well spoken word flurries
whipping away thin guise.
Floating crown
adrift on high.
I will breathe in
Your rarefied air,
because I listened to you.
"Clamber up, high!
Unfazed view will circle you,
miles on end surround you.
No going around the bend.
Nowhere else to go.
No zig zag escape.
No spike in pressure.
No deep depression.
No bad atmosphere.
No stabbing shove.
No push or pull on edge.
Just your pledge to breathe.
To move in one direction.
Forever. Mentally "together."
Stay in good shape."
I will breathe out.
Your rarefied thoughts
congeal life's force,
slows down blood flow.
Till body gloved heart
faintly, faintly glows...
Concealed fire's torch,
caved embers die down.
Stripped artfully apart,
Your rarefied airs
blanket my mind in snow.
13/10/2018. Purely fiction. On the pros and cons of mentorship. "Higher" education is not necessarily a good thing. Learning lessons are.
Categories:
well spoken, education, identity, mentor,
Form:
Alliteration
Aye and ’tis a bonnie glen
And for us the Laird’s enclave
Dinna fush the soldiers’ menace
‘Tis this moment that He gave.
And we gaither ‘neath the stars
And we tak the wine and bread
And we cleave with benediction
To each Word arr Saviour said.
This is Church
Mind not the dampness
And the laing hike to and fro’
For the Pastor of our choosin’
Meets us here, and helps us grow.
Though he lives just like an ootcast
With a price upon his head
He can still preach Heaven doon t’us
And we treasure all he said.
Sure ’tis hard times we endure
For the One King of our Kirk
Jesus, here, atop this hillside
And His glorious finished work.
And a lark flits kindly by us
And a sheep bleats out content
And we learn through sterling sufferin’
What the hunted Psalmist meant.
Hebrews 11: 38
(well spoken of the Scottish Covenanters of the mid 1600's)
Categories:
well spoken, christian, history,
Form:
Pastoral
Jung said we have an unconscious feminine and male psyche,
It dwells inside and manifests in dreams and activities we do;
Now, I realize that I have a male side although I am a girl,
When I think about my husband he had an anima, a feminine side.
He dwells in his heavenly realm now, he is a name engraved,
But, in life he was my masculine shield, my protector, my strong hero;
He was the provider, he was full of wisdom and well spoken,
Yet, there was a side, soft and nurturing, emotional, he could cry.
He loved a bubble bath, cooking and satin sheets on the bed,
Adored the color purple and holding hands, he had a very gentle soul;
I could take him to romantic, girly movies and he liked them,
Yet, he and his buddies would cheer and crunch cans watching sports.
I always thought he was a contradiction but I guess not,
He just had a lot of anima, and that combination of soft and strong;
Was so appealing, which makes me think we must have both,
To be complete, a male side and a female side, dwelling in our psyche
______________________
April 28, 2016
Poetry/Verse/Soft and Strong
Copyright Protected, ID 16-783-611-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Categories:
well spoken, spiritual,
Form:
Verse
Lively words on tiptoes left,
Vanishing in the night.
In vain have I sought to find them,
Those precious prodigal words.
Did they slip away like mice
Through temples worn out by age?
Like jocks who rode the bench too long,
Have they quit for lack of play?
Or have they found me faithless,
Lusting after phrases
And daisy chains of impish words,
And in anger run away?
Fled they like southing swallows
Escaping Winter’s blight?
Will they come back to me one day
Like old Capistrano’s birds?
If a wordless king is a pauper;
And a well-spoken peasant rich;
And words are the gems we offer
To woo the ones we love,
Am I then to be destitute
When I wear the crown of years?
For if my wealth of words is gone,
I cannot beg at Heaven’s gate.
Categories:
well spoken, language, loss, memory, remember,
Form:
Free verse
DIAMOND DUST DEVIL
1169 Dominion...
A dark world lives beyond Orion.
This world is within an alien moon.
On its stable ground, stands a murder of mentality and childhood.
As babies are born, the mammoth scions brain from the dead.
The child life has been prepared.
The countryside is where he reclines.
He sits in his study analyzing his crimes.
He states to himself, deep in thought, “I am creating a world of great power.
My ancestors did not do this way. They only developed a twisted mentality.
Today, I cultivate identities.”
He is a tall and handsome man.
He is well spoken.
As a barrister, he is at the top of his game.
He walks with the same
who do not know they are creations of his sentiment.
His name is Emartra Van Doyle.
He is the “descendant of Dubhghall.”
Anglicization of the Irish
His disambiguation was superlative.
He is the origin of the Vikings.
His days in the world are yet to end.
There has been much darkness to manifest from him.
His balls were costume dramatic.
He lived in phantasm.
Hiberno-Normans balled with him.
The dark and epicaricacy history of Ireland is where Emartra Van Doyle thrives.
Well written via the imagination and deep in the mind, is a sphere of influence,
which cultivates perilous times.
A reverie aspirated.
Cross my heart and hope to die, if I am telling a lie.
S[k]at!
______________________________________________|
Sponsor: SKAT A
Contest Name: Diamond Dust Devil
Categories:
well spoken, character, dream, gothic, image,
Form:
Epic
Please read about the poem ~
How can I express my sadness as I turn on CNN .
For the man who was suffering as he left so beautiful inside
taken so handsome and young , by the Sin of Pride .
His Family now weeps for a very long time ,
he has become all our true loves in mind.
For he a Charismatic man , intelligent,
well spoken , a man so hard to find .
What has our World come to
What drives one to insanity,
to take another so Horrifically~
The Truth does not Lie Jodi ,
for you holds no Glory .
The Truth in rejection so sad to face,
willing to give away everything at all cost..
No matter how much she Loved him ,
In capable of love through possession ,
There is a lesson through the worst pain .
Through incapable love lies , betrayal .
You have taken another that was not yours to take ,
You have caused great sorrow and pain
Your love of self in Vain ~
Giving her freedom through the spirit "Death "
will not make the sad better .
In justice , is a mirror and cell for eternity .
In my heart everyone deserves Redemption ,
leaving this writing only the title of her name
many would like you to suffer this life and the next .
In respect of the Man who has left , I believe he would forgive her
refusing to punish by Death .
Categories:
well spoken, anger, death, grief, murder,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
I was always well spoken and knew how to conversate
But at school I was going through too many personal problems to sit down and concentrate
I couldn't pay attention in class, everything the teachers said left my head
I'd go home and throw on some Hip-Hop, I was taught by Gangstas instead
Raised in foster care because I wasn't as important to my parents as drink
I fell in love with Hip-Hop and the way rappers were sharing their ink
The storytelling, messages and the way they were rhyming
Rakim, Nas, Wu Tang bringing brightness to my life without showing me their diamonds
Lyrical Gangstas became my teachers
Earphones in, I fell in love with every word coming through the speakers
I couldn't focus in class so they expected to see the kid fail
But I felt inspired whenever I heard Eminem, Ice Cube and Big L
I was falling and it was rappers who didn't know I exist that managed to reach me
Nas taught me more about life through his lyrics than teachers could teach me
Going to the local music shop weekly
Spending all of my pocket money on a Hip-Hop CD
Most kids want Candy but I didn't care for sweets
I just wanted to listen to new lyrics and to hear some beats
Then sit and debate about which rapper is spitting the best words
and which rapper had the best verse
50 Cent released get rich or die trying when I was 11 and that album became my soundtrack
If he can survive getting shot 9 times, then I can bounce back
I was slowly finding myself right after they said the kid's lost
I was taught by Gangstas and raised by Hip-Hop
I was always well spoken and knew how to conversate
But at school I was going through too many personal problems to sit down and concentrate
I couldn't pay attention in class, everything the teachers said left my head
I'd go home and throw some Hip-Hop on, I was taught by Gangstas instead
Categories:
well spoken, character, childhood, deep, hip
Form:
Free verse
A well spoken Martian came calling last week
He popped in the house for a chat
Though I wasn’t displeased
When he coughed and he sneezed
I was miffed when he swallowed my cat
He said “ I am frightfully sorry,
It isn’t like me to do that
You must think me a hog
For I much prefer dog
Or a rodent like rabbit or rat”
Categories:
well spoken, animals, funny, science fiction,
Form:
Rhyme
My unusual physical appearance
Was enhanced by a striking thinness,
And enormous long-lashed blue eyes.
Less charmingly, I was also the kind of
Deliberately malicious little hooligan
Who'd remove some periodical
From a neighbour's letter-box
And then mutilate it before reposting it.
The sixties' famed social and sexual revolution
Was well under way, and yet for all that,
Seminal Pop groups such as the Searchers
And the Dave Clark Five;
Even the Fab Four themselves,
Were quaintly wholesome figures.
And in comparison to what was to come,
They surely fitted in well
In a long vanished England
Of Norman Wisdom pictures;
And the well-spoken presenters
Of the BBC Home Service,
Light Service and World Service,
Of coppers and tanners
And ten bob notes;
And jolly shopkeepers
And window cleaners.
At least that's how I see it,
Looking back at it all
From almost half a century later.
Categories:
well spoken, childhood, culture, history, london,
Form:
Free verse
I feal no evil
But you worship it
I smile in your face
But its really a front
I hate any violence
But you beat up little kids
I am very well spoken
But you use foul language
I am respectful
But you talk back
I am really religious
But you hate the thought of church
I am honest
But you're always lying
I am grateful
But you always complain
I am well-known
But you have no friends
I am very nice
But you make alot mad
I face ALOT of battles
-Such as Good Vs. Bad -
Categories:
well spoken, confusion, people, sorry, hate,
Form:
List
The gift of you, you gave to me
The unfolding of what you possessed
Revealing kindness, truth, and love
You freely gave with wisdom's best
Softly spoken with words direct
You guided well and so did teach
Me where to walk where there was light
And how to step ahead and reach
Gentle and caring with added respect
Well spoken with words you weren't at a loss
With time I had said, "I too can be!"
You nodded, you smiled, and you showed me the Cross
I want to repay you, to say thank you aloud
So I kneeled before Him and I asked this from God
As always He answered, a message He did send.
So may I ask one thing further, "May I call you friend?"
Brenda Elizabeth Rose
Categories:
well spoken, christian, emotions, feelings, friend,
Form:
Rhyme
There once was a long vanished England;
Of well-spoken presenters
Of the BBC Home Service,
Light Service, and Children’s Favourites,
Of coppers and tanners, and ten bob notes;
And jolly shopkeepers, and window cleaners.
I remember my cherished Wolf Cub pack,
How I loved those Wednesday evenings,
The games, the pomp and seriousness of the camps,
The different coloured scarves, sweaters and hair
During the mass meetings,
The solemnity of my enrolment,
Being helped up a tree by an older boy,
Baloo, or Kim, or someone,
To win my Athletics badge,
Winning my first star, my two year badge,
And my swimming badge
With its frog symbol, the kindness of the older boys.
Categories:
well spoken, childhood, england, history, life,
Form:
Free verse
The Beast: The smoke is in the opposite direction of me . ..... .. .
When I look at myself in the cracked mirror,
At first glance, I'm hideous as hell on Mount Everest! I’m not looking my best
Enraged out of all control
Sorry for discouraging myself in front of you –
At least I’m not head over heels over myself and my looks, which could crack any mirror that reflects my every revolting feature –
My body, my face, my everything!
The Beauty (Belle): Don’t talk that way, you modest, negative Beast!
The sweet aroma of flower blossoms is heading my direction!
I’m thrilled to have you and I sharing our affection, healing my infection in my heart – you saved me from the guy with a muscular and hairy body by the name of Gaston!
Thanks for allowing me to go the opposite direction!
He said weird, flirtatious things that made me speechless, yet uncomfortable
I'm beautiful now! Thanks for this gift of such a precious dress! I must confess I fell in love with it!
Everything works out in the end, even if I go through obstacles again and again –
You’re always there, my most beloved, furry friend!
Let’s run an errand…shall we do so? I don’t mean to offend!
The Beast: Teach me how to read!
I need to be taught good manners, especially at the table as you saw my poor manners last night at the dinner table!
Teach me to have a good way of living by being a proper, gentle, kindhearted, intelligent, and independent human being like you…
I bet you and I will have a good future spent with each other…
I know I was mean and cruel, but I’ve changed for the better just for your sake!
Can you join me for dinner!
The Beauty (Bell): Sure. Why not?
The Beast: *in his head* I think we’re meant to be with each other forevermore!
The Beauty (Belle): *in her head* You’re the one that I cherish and adore – just like reading a new, enchanting series…I can’t help, but fall victim to your well-spoken words and I’ve read books that were a similar genre to you, however, they weren’t as well-written, wondrous, and wonderful like yours.
Belle: Can you help me with my chores, my darling Beast?
The Beast: Sure! I’ll do anything for you! I’d transform into a human…all for you, sweetheart…..
Categories:
well spoken, angst, beauty, change, cute
Form:
Free verse
21 Cents
The information blackouts
Are drawn at Whitehall, while
Our controls are being hacked
And hijacked, those freedoms
That our parents fought seem
Threatened by a dangerous dream.
Eugenics shadows of the past,
Mechanics to assist or replace.
The voluntary amputee goes
Beyond the boundaries most
Would wish to traverse, or
Rather climb the distant
Himalayas, where we pollute
The air with words, transgress
Modest and grounded beliefs.
An arrogance to assume, that
Our world is superior to theirs.
Powerless in a Powerful flag waving
Nation, grounded as a rusting ship
Waiting to be made over or reborn,
Expanding families lock the door
Against the illegal money lender,
The smooth talking politician
Who wants his cut and your vote
A partner leaves without a note
Of explanation to clarify your pain.
Respect is not inborn but taught
School rules that parents disavow
With every new expletive, give
Example to a powerless refrain,
Singing in the shower, not the rain.
Extinguishing the guiding light within,
To look intently, seeing crouched inside,
The eloquence of well-spoken lies and
The stuttering of an expressed truth.
Categories:
well spoken, philosophy, parents, parents,
Form:
Verse
My supervisor ambled by one day
To tell me he was adding one more to my load:
A juvie no other counselor could reach.
What could I say?
Gerry was a worldly-wise fifteen,
A self-assured, well-spoken lad
Whose attitude was such
That nothing you could threaten mattered much.
He had a history, this young man,
A JD rap sheet that a decade spanned.
But what was curious to me
Was the final entry in his résumé.
Shoplifting candy bars from supermarket shelves,
I said. That seems beneath you,
Given your transgressions of years past.
He laughed. Skybars, Smores, Snickers, I amassed
Enough to sweeten lots of dreams.
You have a raging sweet tooth then, I said.
No, he replied. Sugar rots your teeth and gives you zits.
I was building up my stash for Halloween.
I live in Tower 6 on Forty-Fourth and Elm.
On Candy Eve the high-rise kids stay home,
Kept inside to keep them safe. This childhood rite
Held hostage to the dangers of the night.
But this time round, this year when darkness falls,
I will do trick-or-treating in reverse,
Carrying my sack of lifted sweets
Up and down each flight, down every hall,
Knocking on every door where there’s a tyke
(I know them all)
And offering each one a reach into my bag,
A taste of the tradition.
Dumbstruck, I shed all my prior postulations
Of this "delinquent," with his hoodie on
And his air of I-don’t-care-what-happens-here.
How often I’ve despaired of human nature,
Doubting accepted wisdom there’s good in every heart,
In every breast the seed of something fine.
But not this day.
2/13/2016
Twisted Poem about Robin Hood Contest
Categories:
well spoken, candy, character, halloween, uplifting,
Form:
Free verse