Best Wipe The Slate Clean Poems
To the ones I love in this world
There is something l need to share
We all unknowingly in life have caused hurt
Totally oblivious and unaware
So, If I have ever done you wrong
And did not realise
Please forgive me
I am here to apologise
I am sorry if I unknowingly let you down
Or my words were too direct
If I caused disappointment
Sadness or neglect
I would never intentionally hurt another
I do not possess the mean gene
Though if I have without intent
I’m truly sorry… lets wipe the slate clean!
What should I write about?
Truth, that is all!
But there is mine,
yours...
and then His of course:
compassion
unbending--
forgiving
unending--
though we are inclined
to weakly compromise;
change only when
uncomfortably pressed;
(having tilted, after being lavishly blessed)
wipe the slate clean
reluctantly, for forced
by self-created
negative circumstance
to heavily lean--
His love is faithful
regardless our fault,
Divine Witness
the crucified Christ.
President Donald Trump
The voting was done,
and Donald Trump won.
So many are glad,
yet quite a few mad.
Voters have spoken...
fix what is broken,
and wipe the slate clean
though hard it may seem.
Democracy rules
to give us new tools
find creative ways
to better our days.
Oft old status quo
is no way to go.
Outsiders at times
can shape new designs
to better the plight,
and shed brighter light.
Think...Ronald Reagan...
values mistaken...
an outsider too,
despised by a few.
This Hollywood star
met President's bar
at last to become
a great number one.
Yet, Trump, right or wrong
is mocked by the throng;
no credit he wins
by those fake-news spins...
on what he's achieved,
they shape unperceived.
Okay, there are things
that agita brings,
and some just can stand
his tweets out of hand.
He is what he is...
perhaps too much fizz,
but gets the job done
and tells you he won.
Our nation at heart...
and zeal off the chart,
let's give him a break...
in backing, partake.
Unity's needed
peacefulness pleaded.
Let's give him a chance
with a cheerful stance.
November 12, 2016 (revised February 5, 2019)
For Contest, 'President Trump',
Sponsored by Anthony Slausen
Deep in the night, in the well of my dreams
I'm here all alone, and the silence is long...
I'm engulfed by old songs and memories of
the life never lived, the words never said,
the fears that grow strong,
the things I might dread,
and the stories unread
There's a whirlwind of dust
which blows through my head
Perhaps this is slumber and I wear a new face
Shades of a fire, and the smoke of the night
Have shadowed the things that are real, maybe not
Tomorrow I'll wake, with the first breath of dawn
I'll wipe the slate clean, start all over again
Rewrite all the pages, I never began
Take a road never taken, that waving mirage
as seen through the mist, where always, it's been
I have been a young child, afraid of the dark
There's a fork in the road, I am playing new parts
Something came in the night, something sparked a new flame
Heroic and fearless, ........I will wake with the day
I will find a new trail that will show me the way
I'll not bend like the trees bowing over in wind
I'll not bend like the wheat strands, or the flames of the fire
Standing tall in the light, I will feel a new me
I will feel a new power, to be me, .... just be me!
___________________________________________
For the contest sponsored by Verlena Walker
10/26/14
One of the oldest from of advertising the world has ever seen
Based on reputation of a person, either good or bad
It can be kind of slow or right threw a town like wildfire
Put one out of business or wipe the slate clean
Be the best news in the world or it can be pretty sad
One thing about it, it will never expire
Several years back, I was living in a small cow town
It was in West Texas, the only thing that changed was the breeze
Everyone knew everyone's business, but still they would talk
Had only one sidewalk to roll up when the Sun when down
Most everyone's attitude was do as you please
Years went by time never changed on the court house clock
Old man Livingston, had the hardware store and mercantile
Sold guns, coyote traps, even had some knitting yarn
Most everything under the Sun, probably had some moonshine in the basement
If you stayed there long enough he would make you a deal
Even had cats to get rid of mice in your barn
Told a traveling sign painter one day, " I am the advertising department"
The sign painter pulled up in an old station wagon jalopy of a rig
Filled with half empty paint cans, saw the old sign outside
"Mr Livingston, your old sign could use some paint from what I see"
"No Sir, on advertising I am not very big"
"See folks from around these parts know me far and wide"
"I will tell you my secret and I think that you will agree"
"See the first time they come in, they try to get me in the end"
"They think that they are going to get a bargain"
"And I even throw in some things for the wife"
"Then I figure up the total, Damn Livingston I thought that you were a friend"
"I give them a big old screwing, they are still trying to get even"
"And that way Son, I have them coming back for life"
Never forsake the lineage in which we
originated from because
the ancestors are watching us
Their eyes are on the sparrow
anticipating us to soar into
our excellence
Wash ourselves in their royalty
while remembering they were
kings and queens long before
they became slaves and strange fruit
Society wants to wipe the slate clean of
our heritage by pruning the limbs
of our family trees
waiting in the shadows for the
opportunity to kill it at the root
We cannot allow someone else's antidote
poison us with amnesia that may
cause us to forget the power
of our inheritance
We are much stronger
than they care to know
We must use our pens to flex the
muscle of our minds
Granting permission to build strength
enabling us to balance the truth
on our shoulders
Lets stand our ground and never fold
claim our titles as griots
and let our stories be told
It's up to us to lose the fear
Use the ink in our veins to
to go against the grain of
the lies they expect us to swallow
and washed down with our pride
--LaLa
©4-3-2020
Times were hard – that is what they said
When they told me about their early years -
before I was there, their son
Filled with the hunger of youth, the lust
For life, passion – the truth
Times were not easy – and I could tell
Life had been a journey
Through fears, tears and years
Between rocks and hard places, through
Darkness and dread, doubts
That left them with questions
And uncertainty that bled through the
Joy that longed to give them hope
Wipe the slate clean, so they might see
What love reveals when it stills
The beating of heart who is living
With a past that is so unforgiving
Times were hard – and their souls bled
From the wounds they’d acquired
Damage that couldn’t be settled
With bandages or dressings that might
Seem like the thing to do
When pain erases all the good
Times were hard – but they never let go
The blessings that comforted, the ones
That soothed and uplifted,
Blessings of love that came from believing
Despite the worries that erases hope
Despite the struggles that bring mistrust
Despite all the differences that came along
To destroy their faith, their joy, their peace
They found a way to believe in their hearts
That His love would see them through
Cleaning the slate so that they could find
The beautiful secreted
Beneath the darkest of nights
Times might have been hard, but they knew
With love, they could travel
This world with one assurance –
Light and love comes alive inside those
Who know that the struggle
Is actually a blessing in disguise
Because when He decides to erase the pain,
Hearts have so much to gain –
As He wipes away the past, there is a promise
That, with time – these will only become
Memories of hard times, memories
That assure hearts – they can survive
They have what it takes to face their hurt
And, despite the damage, venture
Into the future with assurance that,
With love – anything is possible,
And everything, surely, will be made good again
He cleans the slate every morning
When we wake to the new dawn
Lift our eyes to the fresh thoughts
Delight in the beauty of our hopes
He is love and as long as we live, we know
His love is the truth that reassures
In spite of hard times, there is so much good!
This or That, Vol 16 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
Title Chosen: Blank Slate
February 7, 2023
Clear your mind of preconceived notions
because we're about to set things in motion
there are a few things that need clarified
if you want to remain by my side
Always popping off with what you please
well let me set your mind at ease
The things you claim hold little truth
makes me question what you do
Wipe the slate clean and free your mind
look at me with your loved filled eyes
The die was rolled the void filled up fast
separating the future from the past
You thought you knew me & I knew you
but what we thought just wasn't true
Clear the turmoil in which you stew
and see me with eyes anew
From experiences that were lived
we both have much love still to give
At this rate, we are at a draw
no more entanglements with Johnny Law
I lack the energy to compete
with random bimbos from the street
I am not wanting another man
No need for you to grandstand
Helpless whispers in the night
I only want to do what's right
My soul is craving righteousness
and I want for us to do our best
So shut your eyes and clear your mind
then open them up and feel the vibes
Will you ever truly know me
Let the bad thoughts go and we will both see
If only I could go back in time,
I'd go back to my prime years,
I'd correct my wrongs,
I'd wipe the slate clean.
If only I could journey into my mind,
I'd permute my thoughts,
I'd sieve out the unwanted,
I'd cocoon my thoughts from the assailants.
If only I could see the unwritten,
I'd know how far it's fated for me to walk,
I'd know the reasons for my walk through turbulent waters,
I'd know how many steps would take me to redemption's shore.
If only I could open the door to midnight,
I'd see the monsters,
I'd give them the chase,
Illuminate midnight's space.
April 23, 2023.
If Only I Could
This or That, Vol 17 Poetry Contest,
Edward Ibeh.
Fake hearts,
Beware what you dream,
In this world,
Full of schemes,
It's hard to redeem,
Horror filled screams,
At nightmare scenes,
Painted with a maniac's brush,
Too late to wipe the slate clean.
Downward spirals,
Tail spinning to doom.
Camera angles,
Picture perfect,
To give your face,
That high-def zoom.
So that looky loos,
Better off than you
Can be home by nine,
And watch your tragedy,
On the 10 o'clock news.
Misconceptions,
In their views,
Thinking they can,
Better choose.
A better life than you.
Cheers to the idiotic ramblings,
Of pathetic fools.
Who are only a few moments,
From a similar fate.
Your last breath,
Is spent laughing,
Cause while they try to cling to life,
You already know,
For them
It's too late.
Fate has sealed the deal,
Pain is what they'll feel.
The blind are leading the blind,
To the fields,
Where the mad men kill.
Less Than Whole
I now know how much I love you,
But that’s where the problem lies.
There’s a part inside of heart
That can’t get past the lies.
~
Can’t get past the broken trust,
The images of him and you.
No matter how hard I try,
It’s something I just can’t do.
~
You’ve broken something in me,
That seems to be beyond repair.
You stripped away my confidence,
And left me with only fear.
~
I feel less of a man,
Far less than being whole.
What you’ve stolen from me,
I fear will take its toll.
~
So even though I love you,
I know that I must leave.
Go away on my own,
So that I may grieve.
~
This is the hardest thing I ever said,
The hardest I’ll ever do.
Telling the woman that I love,
Our life together is through.
~
With a tear, I’ll walk away,
Free you from the chains.
Wipe the slate clean,
But the bruises still remain.
(Written for a friend who is going through a difficult break-up)
The purge started with honest appraisal.
A deep peer within to unlock the knots
tying 'never too open' lockets shut.
There were regrets, fall-shorts, damning selfies
all to be opened with tear drops and fears,
exposing the scars, hurts, raw open wounds.
Effective catharsis by expungement
was the only way to wipe the slate clean.
So with scalpel and scraper the rot gut
was excised by wiping bad memories
away with a total system refresh.
The unresolved was foiled with stark parries
the aching boils were lanced and puss squeezed out
Each locket expunged was burnt at the stake
so regrets and short-comings had no where
to hide, no chance to beguile the future.
I enjoyed the glow and stench of the fire.
catharsis smoke and ashes blackening
the sky, carried away by wind disgusts.
So this is the end of you and me,
a desperate angel and Melancholy
I can’t take your company anymore,
so just please leave when I say goodbye
Don’t stand in my door and watch me cry
This is the evening that we both die
A run cut short by insincerity
The birthing of calamity
A dramatic ending to a tragic friend
It was good for a little while,
but we both grew old to a little child,
as toys unloved, unwanted, not needed
If these regrets could change our course,
would it be worth the effort?
I’ll wipe the slate clean of you and I
This is the day that we both die
The pain will pass as the days go by
Hope will shine once again
We both say we can still be friends,
but that never happens in the end
There’s always that uneasiness
That dreaded curse of old thoughts
and revealing old feelings
The remembrance of the fights we won
Wondering where the joy has gone
Questioning if what’s right was done
Today’s a day that’s supposedly filled with political rhapsody/
Yet I sit down and write these words in full spiritual apathy/
I rather be electing a leader whose ideas can capture me/
Chattel ghosts are after me so I can’t afford to be an absentee/
That’s the way it has to be. Many died for my right to choose/
Even if I don’t like the dudes, I must vote, despite the mood/
Despite my feelings that elections do little to bring changes/
Choosing sadists with king wages as their armies sing praises/
Imitation sages. Thinking their group rhetoric is visionary/
Ideas as basic as having sex in positions missionary/
Political dysentery. This system has always been infected/
Vote’s been subjective since the first slave owner’s been elected/
I’ve been neglected and I don’t have the dough to get noticed/
One of the faceless voters. A pawn used in racist quotas/
I face disorder but I’m weighed down by a chaotic tapestry/
Guilty of blasphemy as I elect the next masonic majesty/
The honest travesty is the reality that we’re all expendable/
The poor’s reprehensible as the rich’s laws are extensible/
Democrats more sensible? They all come blunt? I doubt it/
Republicans don’t like me. At least they’re up front about it/
Our wisdom’s clouded. We can’t see their both on the same team/
With the same dream/
Get as much as they can then wipe the slate clean/
This bipartisan system doesn’t allow new voices to surface/
The powers that be, when faced with new choices, get nervous/
They’re hired to serve us, but we transformed them into royalty/
Despite what we feel morally, parties demand total loyalty/
Pay raises quarterly as their conduct grows more disorderly/
Abhorring me and the very few civil laws supporting me/
I don’t mean to be apathetic about the electoral process/
Keeping tabs on the government is an acceptable obsess/
A myth like Lochness? Is Democracy just a pipe dream?/
I must vote to find out. No matter how pointless it might seem...
All your life you've been pushed around,
Always having to look up from down on the ground,
Your body now surges with sorrow and rage,
Deciding your lifes book is on the last page,
A single shot rings out in December,
Maybe now everyone will remember,
How dangerous it is to be so mean,
Everyone now wishes they could go back to wipe the slate clean