Best Worsen Poems
My friend, put a pause on throwing punches.
There's no use holding on to petty grudges.
It's much easier to breathe with feuds ended.
Always accept an olive branch, if extended.
It doesn't matter the cause of dissension;
Douse the scorching flame of contention.
Forget who threw the poison dart first.
Avoid fueling the fire with an outburst.
Give who wronged you chance to make amends.
No sir, you two don't have to become friends.
Don't worry yourself with friendship plans.
You don't even have to meet or shake hands.
Toss your ego aside and be the bigger person;
Resolve brewing hostilities lest they worsen
And simply just let bygones be bygones.
They are only pros to doing so, no cons.
Amani the peaceful warrior
A woman who risked her life
To save mothers and daughters from the notorious war crimes
Deep in the jungles of Congo
The continuing human rights violence
The rape, the discrimination and the children armies
The non stop crisis that seemed to worsen with each dawn
Amani the peaceful warrior established safety homes for the victims
Through varying trainings the mothers and daughters were taught farming, knitting, cooking, simple medical training, arts and crafts and many more
With counseling she gave back the victims the power they had lost
Their smiles grew, their hearts shone
A rose garden was planted to show this victory
And as the smiles grew, so did it
They heard of Amani and in one of her rescue missions, she was captured
Her hands and legs were tied
He said, "these hands have to go"
To humiliate her and her course
To destroy her and her dreams
But even as she left, her legacy lived beyond the pain and the torture.
*Fictional*
"Vote for me! My opponent is a liar and a thief! I will make a change and rectify all!
I will raise your standard of living, lower your taxes and we'll all have a ball!"
(Please read the disclaimer,
For this potential hall of famer)
Warning: electing this braggadocio person,
May cause the status quo to worsen.
Any claims made on this campaign tour,
Are not intended as a political cure.
Electing this person may cause temporary blindness,
Nervous stomach, diarrhea and a lack of kindness.
But people, pay no attention to this disclaimer note.,
Put your blinders on !! Get out there and vote!
-paid for by elect a slanderer for office committee:
Diurnal, nature's early damsel,
donned in dew and vivid peach,
I am in need of dawning's candle;
humor me as I beseech.
Amidst thy gown I often ponder,
musing on the great "to be."
'Tis true, in thought I tend to wander
when amongst thy company.
Alas, Nocturnal's robe lies rigid
on the quarters of my sleep!
His garb represses thought--so frigid
are the kernels of my keep!
I can no longer bear the torment
that escorts a smothered mind,
for when one sleeps with theory dormant--
evening peace one cannot find.
Why doth such darkness bear a beacon
brilliant like a sterling gem?
Why doth such radiance not weaken
what I feel when cloaked by him?
Dost not thou give the moon its polish,
though the distance holds thy light?
If so, then with that sphere, abolish
all his sabotage tonight!
Too long have I, a pensive person,
been condemned to sleep as such.
I wish for not my rest to worsen:
won't thou reprimand his touch?
I beg of thee: repeal my prison,
purge me of its blank regime,
and grant my slumber nightly visions--
be they sweet or bitter dreams!
Stress, Solitude & Space
Written: by Miracle Man
3/18/2020
Each day I’m found to be a more private person,
the more intrusion i have, it means things worsen.
My only peace comes, during early pre dawn time,
at no time ever am i caught feeling sublime.
The phone always rings with the next unwanted pest,
if known I answer, letting call block eat the rest.
Politicians and charities, those helped before,
begin the conversation with, could you help more?
It's not uncaring, or for others find no place,
I'm a “Tough Old Bird” who needs solitude and space.
From about 2:00 am until dawn
is my time to share things with the Lord.
Tom
Rain whipped by,
And the wipers tasked with maintaining sight struggled to keep up.
Despite the wiper’s determination though,
the driver needed not look,
As in his inebriation his control would merely worsen with sight.
The wheels upon which he rode turned quickly,
yet slid along the unstable gravel.
And as the driver lost consciousness,
The road gave way just in time to spite his drunkenness.
First the headlight cracked,
Then the metal upon which the car was supported bent and split.
And finally, the separation between the derelict and his storm gave way:
As the window shattered beyond recognition.
Now,
Rested upon an old willow,
The manifestation of all inadequacies lay;
A young man,
who failed to drive the car upon which fate destined him,
Met his end -
in introduction to the monsters of his irresolution.
Do you ever feel like you can't catch a break.
Misfortunes after the next cause your heart to ache. You beat your self over
the head wondering what you did wrong, deep in your feelings listening to
slow songs.
They say patience is a virtue, well let's test that theory. It's seems hard to
keep faith cause things get so weary. Crying all alone thinking no one can
feel your pain, nobody to talk to feels like your going insane.
The toughest thing to do is to be a tough person, not physically but mentally.
Yet things seem to worsen. Matthew 17:20 says "if you have faith as small as
a mustard seed " you can move mountains. It's from the word of God so I
highly wouldn't doubt it.
Just take heed and don't panic, you give him praise til your enemies can't
stand it. But this was just a little "pick me up" if you were feeling down,
stressed out, worried, upset with a frown. Just have a little faith, the Lord has
your back. Cause one thing he never will do is lack.
Hurricanes howling from tropical storms.
Under watch and warning, everyone waits.
Radar shows rotating clouds taking form.
Rain bands flood roads as downpours inundate.
Intensity grows; winds accelerate.
Conditions worsen, each moment seems tense
As buildings strain with winds lashing against.
No one feels safe; we think, is this the one?
Eye at last passes, and once danger ends
Survivors emerge to check damage done.
8/31/2016
stone keeps rolling,
smoke gets higher,
passing through his system.
running mind wild and free.
changing one into zombie.
pulse beats faster.
ants become monster.
weak gets stronger.
world turns smaller.
once you'd hook,
no ending.
things are worsen,
when smoke gets high.
** 6th Place Winner in PD's Contest: Any Poem #22 **
I stand at the window and watch the snow fall
It's been two hours since Billy left
The wind has built, a blizzard set in
And I can't put my mind at rest.
The snow has drifted blocking the road he took
But he knows his job, the cattle must be watered and fed
And hay for the baby calves to bed.
"I'll be all right," he said.
There is no school it is Christmas vacation
The radio predicted conditions to worsen.
With his family save and warm
He then sets about caring for those out in the storm.
TV and presents keep the children entertained
While I my hair do pull.
Dinner is ready and still Billys not home
And with questions like "When's daddy coming home?
And "Can I go out and play in the snow?"
It is hard for them to understand
It isn't just a snow fall, the danger is far to grave
Wander to far and they could be lost
And in turn perhaps lose their lives.
Two o'clock, three o'clock, four o'clock came
Finally Billy comes through the door
Wet, exhausted and frozen to the bone
He removed his outer garments and collapsed on the chair.
As he ate the children came
Excited to have daddy home
Satisfied he was safe and sound
They went back to their TV and games.
Chore time came and the blizzard ruled
I offered to do my share
He smiled and said, "Everything's fine.
Just the cow to milk and the pigs to feed
And I'll be right back inside. "
I put on my coat took shovel in hand
And worked at clearing the path.
In an hour it would be covered again
But I needed to have some fresh air.
All were in bed, the Christmas tree bright
The Nativity set caught my eye
Tenderly I picked up the manger, bow my head and say
"Thank You Baby Jesus and Happy Birthday."
Cile Beer
The Sea Level Is Rising
By Elton Camp
Back in the 1950s when I was a child
That sea level would rise seemed wild
Even those who thought that it might
Centuries into the future set that fright
It was only a concern for some distant day
But the reality has already come our way
The way polar ice melts at a faster rate
The problem will worsen early, not late
It is those who live very close to the coast
That from the disaster will suffer the most
Southern Florida may vanish into the sea
And we aren’t sure how soon that may be
Entire island nations are likely to disappear
Massive relocations we now have to fear
Those living inland in pleasure may grunt
For their property may become waterfront
Abandoned, scared and alone he lay in his bed
Wondering if he will ever have a loving home
On the concrete floor, he lays his head
Without a care for his old bone
It’s loud and the rotten stench of **** and piss fill the air
He lay, wishing and dreaming that he didn’t have to be there
Locked up and taken prisoner he is so sad
He never thought his life could get this bad
What’d he do to deserve such a terrible fate?
Waiting for the day he reaches the end
All he is now is a cute little piece of bait
Never knowing if he will ever mend
From the terrifying experiences had
Now afraid of any large objects or yelling
He is older now and the young ones are the fad
Look in his eyes and see what they’re telling
A lost and most beautiful soul
Awaiting the day he may find love
And get out of this terrible lull
He looks up to the heavens above
All he can see are painfully fluorescent lights
Wishing so badly to see the outside
To get out of here and have play fights
What he really needs is a person, a guide
Someone to love and support him
He waits and waits for his special person
Someone who’d make his life less dim
While the pain and loneliness worsen
With painted face and silent smiles they light the night so dim,
Oblivious to their stalker and his diabolic whim.
They'd come to sunny Florida to flee Maine's winter snow
And play their silent pantomimes on sidewalks as they go.
But the analyst has programs and experiments to run;
Methodic’ly he thus connects the silencer and gun.
Onlookers claim the analyst did murder them that night,
Then calmly pulled his pencil out, his test's results to write.
But as for wherefores and the whys, when asked of him a reason,
If these are not fair game, he cries, Why call this 'Tourist Season'?
His court appointed council does the best that he is able
To win the jury's pity for this client so unstable.
This man, his sobbing lawyer pleads, was brilliant as a child.
He never was a vicious lad, and next to most, quite mild.
Such things he pondered others wondered, if indeed they never spoke them,
As, to what hue those Smurfs, now blue, would turn, were one to choke them.
The lawyer then begins to quote behavior science stats
Of those who make their living pulling habits out of rats.
If in his heart a man resorts to rationalization
A wrong might seem a right when there's sufficient provocation.
As situations worsen and confusion grows with time;
Seems right, when with a silencer, one shoots a silent mime.
If innocent is how you find there's none 'twould you disparage,
For squelching this inquiring mind would be a grave miscarriage.
Those murders were experiments, not born of animosity;
Performed were they to satisfy a morbid curiosity.
Still the jury found him guilty and to ease his troubled brain,
Ordered soon a lethal potion be injected in his vein.
When asked before the gavel rapped for any final comment,
The killer scratched his head as if his muddled mind to foment.
Yes just one further question in this form of execution
do they disinfect the needle in a sterilized solution?
Man explores outer space
with probes and rocket ships,
whilst here the steep rock face
of wars outstrips the tips
of balance: death, famine,
waste, hunger, crime, disease,
and man's untamed greed worsen
the earth's untold crises.
Why not use the great wealth
of this world for the need
here first, then explore space
at light-speed when we're freed
from what kills the human race?
If not, we'll be replaced!
Ode to Chores
By Brenda Kahn
When the Good Lord
In his wisdom, Hark!
Said “Separate
the light from dark.”
He surely didn’t
See that time
Would be a scarce
Resource to find
I throw my clothes-wash
In by person
Lest my crazed
Schedule worsen
If I did dark
Then later light
Lord knows I’d be
Doing wash all night
Now let’s take a
Look at dishes
Yes! I want to
Save the fishes
But if the washer
Doesn’t run
Each night the mornings
Won’t be fun
There will be no
Little spoons I trust
And everyone
Will miss the bus
And who is it
Who said that,
If we bought
A tabby cat
They would surely
Clean the litter
A chore which leaves me
Slightly bitter
Now babies
While they make a mess
Their culinary
In-ter-ests
Are simple
Older kids not so
They complicate things
As they grow
Till no meal happens
By the book
Less dinner – more
Short order cook
One says too sweet
One says no crust
One spits it out
With disgust
And if you find
A way to wrangle
Your whole brood
To the table
One eats fast
The other slow
Everyone answers
“I dunno”
Lordy what’s a mom to do
With such a cantankerous crew?
But I digress
Our topic here
Is what to do
With soccer gear
Piles of cleats
Sticks lacrosse
And other sporty
Stuff to toss
But instead
I make a bin
Label it
And throw stuff in
So take a cue
From my girl Eve
If you feel a sudden
Pull to leave
You’re not at all
The only one
Chores are simply
Not that fun.