Best With Full Force Poems
Ninja Jan
Ninja Jan is all dressed up in her ninja suit
And is ready to take the battle with full force
She knows how to infiltrate the enemy
She creeps upon the enemy warrior in a counter attack
Ninja Jan takes her firm stance; as she sets her sights
With a strengthening hold and gives her mightiest of kicks
Gives herself an affirmation then attacks with dominating
flare
She thrust her leg with a force and hits him where it hurts
He's fully growling and grumbling she hurt him in his jewels
Ninja Jan has conquered her enemy and proudly takes stance
She has no fears and she's real hip and knows she's a super
hero for she has kicked butt
Now they all call her a full -fledged warrior of a samurai.
Written: 3/15/15
Theresa Marie W-C
I manage my planned early rise in hopes dawn will kindly provide me
time before others converge in the joy bounce of family noise.
With silent glee for this vacation cabin, well worth our money splurge,
I tiptoe out to the porch.
Fresh, early morning beauty twinkle-dance performs upon the lake’s
sleepy surface and the sight sigh-settles bliss among my accrued
anxiety bits. Nature’s most enchanting chords sound-lift my awe
with full force as truth re-surges within my soul.
Morning in glorious emergence nurses me with a wordless,
restoring sermon felt purge. I watch life at the nearby pond
where birds group-peek for worms while three unconcerned swans
mellow glide behind the fronds.
Glad am I for nature’s catharsis to all in me the city daily twists.
I am so porch and nature settled, I nearly miss the eager kettle hiss
warning that family is in my midst and hungry for their morning grits.
"We are moving fast towards an age where people will be lovers of self, lovers of
money, self-seeking. Self-gratifying, laying aside morality, spirituality, family
values, and God, for self-preservation, self-gratification, and a cheap thrill.
2 Timothy 3:1-5
Beautiful, Black, Precious, and Complicated
Nothing else like it has ever been fabricated because the recipe stated the
ingredients are outdated. And the original chef barely got credit when He made it.
So without sounding antiquated, let me tell you how I'm rated:
My Beauty is my quality that offers pleasure to the mind or senses. It gives me a
conspicuous essence to remonstrate the world's false pretenses. My temple
becomes a domineering visual aspect of grace, radiating a Saint's best quality
on a child-like face.
I'm Bold, Black, and Original of course. I stand with full force and demonstrate my
strength with no remorse. It's a color of authority and power as stylish and
timeless as an extraordinary and eloquent flower.
I am Precious, Gentle, Sweet, and Simple. I make all my flaws seem accidental.
A treasured soul that can't become nothing less than monumental. It only makes
sense that my ingredients are kept confidential.
Sophisticated and Complicated I remain, yet such a *****, audacious bird.
Professionally e-nun-ci-a-ting every word and ar-ti-cu-la-ting every verb. Inquiring
about uncanny intellect which remains unheard.
My aura and my persona suggests Royalty among most high. Promising me a
productive future and a thrill of a ride. So the next time you happen to stumble
across me, the child of a King, I prefer to be referred to as MISS QUEEN in your
dialect of linguistic strings.
Nationalists
Demonise the religious extremism with full force
How sweet it is that I am with you
Be it Islam, Christianity, Hinduism or Buddhism
No heck to distinguish any one from the others
They are the same weed of the same soil
Eating up the crop of humanity
But what about nationalism and its product the nationalists
They are not less criminals when they go to kill millions
In the name of nations or in the name of races
Think of the world wars first and second
And count in your fingers the deaths and devastation
They bought upon us, upon our humanity
I am here to declare a Jihad against those who are to say
Peace is not profitable but war is
And national interest is above anything else
Rather than the interest of human being
I am also against those hypocrites who say
Nuclear weapons are meant for peace
Nothing can be more bull **** than this
Do you agree with me?
Shall we meet in a corner of lighted street?
Or are you from the same group of garbage nationalist?
Any difference of opinion from you is the answer
And yet I will not hate you
Kindly from me take the unbreakable promise.
Practicing for Easter
I had heard from God high overhead
In heaven and here is what He said
Sings songs about me and my Son
On bright sunny day until it is done.
Songs in mind and heart start singing
Closer to God are constantly bringing
Who with others should always share
For your songs and poems always care.
When you start practicing each song
Only do it for short time and not long
Practice loudly and also with full force
Voice will be scratchy and end up horse.
Choir and organist together shall feel
All of their sounds are on an even keel
Doing it this way over and over again
And much better will begin to blend in.
Easter morning bring all of your friends
And shivers up spine our singing sends
You are sure to know from very start
God is in their singing and also heart.
James Thesarious Hilarious Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
Wife told me after choir practice
before Maundy Thursday service
that all of the practicing was
making her become horse.
ROCK-PAPER-SCISSORS
•
on scorching sun with scissors of red ray
kids waded paper boats down winding bay
huge rock slammed their course
sails flat, with full force!
so rock/paper/scissors bets winged a tricky play
•
although the rushed pace was like wrestling
and left their fists flushed red and sweating,
best of four rounds caused seizures
playmates hid crazed wrist fissures
hours after, hungry tummies stopped pretending
P.D’s Rock/ Paper/ Scissors
By nette onclaud
Her soul is cold and dull;
limber limbs grow numb at love's undoing.
Songbirds no longer trill
in gay abandon, sadness spoils their tune.
Winter's blast is coming
with full force, dark days of unfilled longing.
Despair, the too-sharp pang,
unfastens quick the glow of happiness,
defrocks the breast of care
and locks all feeling trapped within the heart
to wither, shorn of hope
that blessed joy will make a re-appearance.
Flowers bear no fragrance,
the gentle breath of leaves blows no repose
for the broken spirit,
till a chance encounter brings the blessing
of a fresh departure,
her heart in blither mood, her soul reborn!
Her soul is cold and dull;
limber limbs grow numb at love's undoing.
Songbirds no longer trill
in gay abandon, sadness spoils their tune.
Winter's blast is coming
with full force, dark days of unfilled longing.
Despair, the too-sharp pang,
unfastens quick the glow of happiness,
defrocks the breast of care
and locks all feeling trapped within the heart
to wither, shorn of hope
that blessed joy will make a re-appearance.
Flowers bear no fragrance,
the gentle breath of leaves blows no repose
for the broken spirit,
till a chance encounter brings the blessing
of a fresh departure,
her heart in blither mood, her soul reborn!
You see I am from perfection, in perfect world.....
I am here to tell you what you don't know...
what I think you need to know....
should know...
Yes, you are my invention..
Yes you have the choice to choose, only because I am curious, just like you..
but what fool would say no...being nursed, after a stab to the heart
For love.?... I am more than your "love" and I don't feel!
you are weak and dying and feel everything
I will protect you, but you must allow me to control everything of you
for your sake, you are your own destruction
Say yes with everything you have left
it will be hard, you will cry and want it all to end
but you are constructed to bare much
you keep busy to ignore me! I become rage!
to tune out my voice!
look around you! LOOK!
with full force, let me control you!
you had many chances, opportunities, all gifts from me
you in your stubborn pride turn them down
so I punished you, yes I was harsh, but only to get your attention
now... listen to me very carefully
and stop horsing around
your gifts are like lightning on the darkest night
you want friends and love and people around
we have been here before and you know the outcome
focus!
focus and spend time with me
I will hurry and help you
you belong to me alone
and where we meet you have no voice, I enjoy that
We meet in SILENCE...in your STILLNESS
and you enjoyed it too, I know boasted to the others
you never see my face, its for your own good
Love, I don't know what it is, but does it matter? Tell me...
I am what you need, what you wanted all these years has poisoned you
understood...... no need to answer, it was not a question.
(c)LadyFiOct282013GD
I am a distorted disturbance in the dark.
Generated by my victim, I forsake it.
I leave it to be ruled by its own darkness.
Avid of power, I wreck havoc from hell.
I am a fog cloud that alters the brain;
I flick the switch from fact to fiction.
I attack with full force, abandoning all good.
As a shape shifter, I slither my way through slumber.
I embody evil, eager to destroy minds.
With a swoosh, I smother the thought creator.
What is it that you think I am?
TRAGEDY IN BLACK
Regrets, call out to her like a dirge,
The songs of her heart are black,
The obsession she has, a mighty band
That grips her world, squeezing it to blackness.
Obsession they call it, this shrinks,
A tear sad and lonely meanders down her rosy cheeks,
A loony smile on her face, she sees him…
Reaching out, the blackness comes; he is gone.
Proud mother holds her baby to her breast,
Cooing softly as he sucks, jealousy hits
Poor her, she reaches out, startled…the mother screams,
She recoils; the blackness hits her with full force.
Her eyes burn green, the voice in her head screams, he is yours,
She reaches out but he is gone! Her arms restrained
The walls are white; a lullaby soft slow, distant and cold she hears
Her obsession, her captor, this tragedy dressed in black.
17th /08/2015 FOR the tragedy in Black poetry contest.
Her soul is cold and dull;
limber limbs grow numb at love's undoing.
Songbirds no longer trill
in gay abandon, sadness spoils their tune.
Winter's blast is coming
with full force, dark days of unfilled longing.
Despair, the too-sharp pang,
unfastens quick the glow of happiness,
defrocks the breast of care
and locks all feeling trapped within the heart
to wither, shorn of hope
that blessed joy will make a re-appearance.
Flowers bear no fragrance,
the gentle breath of leaves blows no repose
for the broken spirit,
till a chance encounter brings the blessing
of a fresh departure,
her heart in blither mood, her soul reborn!
Ever since the creation of the universe
Time is monitoring every second of life
Time is flying high
To reach the sky
A flying horse
Speeding with full force
Today our friend, tomorrow our enemy
Every heartbeat is remote controlled by time
Good times, bad times
We are slaves of time
Wasted time never returns
Time is money
Oh! youth of today
Think about tomorrow
Whoever tries to play with time
Will have to bear the consequences
Don't wile away time
Because it can change mood
Who will stop time?
So make the optimum use of time
Before our time expires
If you don't stop all your crap
Your face I am gonna slap
My hand print will leave a mark
With full force whacking you hard
I can't take it anymore
You don't know what is in store
If your nonsense doesn't cease
Anger will surely increase
And boil so fast and wide
There is nowhere you can hide
You better wear a suit of armor
Knees and fists are gonna clobber
Every inch and I wont stop
Until I see you fall and plop
Into a pile that is useless
When did you become so clueless
And so blind you didn't see
My niceness turning to fury
With each stupid move you make
There's only so much I can take
Until I lose my common sense
Because you've become so dense
Destroying me little by little
Running away will be futile
There is nowhere to escape
My anger will always drape
Over you and not be gone
You have done me too much wrong
I stayed up late to play all night because it was so nice,
but now the sun is coming up and I must pay the price.
My eyes are stuck, my head it hurts and I can’t seem to move,
it’s going to take some extra time to get me in my groove.
I don’t think there is anything to break me from this spell;
my clock is snoozing as I wait to hear the second bell.
It tried one time to wake me up but I showed I’d resist;
I hit the button on the top with full force of my fist.
But now it seems I’m out of time and must be on my way;
the world around me isn’t going to wait to start the day.
So, “up and at ‘em,” as they say, I’m off to get things done,
and tonight when I get the chance I’ll go down with the sun.