Best Worsens Poems
To whom much is given much is expected, land of the free
For when His Light is reflected then all will be able to see
Yet His Light has gone away, as evil seems to tighten its grip
No longer knowing how to pray, that bitterness worsens with each sip
Praying for all the people in now the latest of these attacks
But as we gather together in the steeple it is our prayer that lacks
God hates the shedding of innocent blood in especially, His Unborn
Still wondering why such the flood of our Holly Father's Righteous Scorn
Calling His Name we beg for mercy, then show none of our own
Murdering Innocence with a decree and sealed with a self-righteous tone
In God there is no difference, for He has created us all
Yet, still being so vociferous about a gunman and his gaul
Will these attacks continue in what seems a quickening pace
I believe that's up to us and the next vote that we will face
With over six million lives at stake in praying to the One above
Don't make the reprehensible mistake of trying to limit God's love
Isaiah 59:7- 8
Their feet run to evil, and they are swift to shed innocent blood; their thoughts are thoughts of iniquity; desolation and destruction are in their highways. The way of peace they do not know, and there is no justice in their paths; they have made their roads crooked; no one who treads on them knows peace
"HUNGRY GAMES"
"I can’t find the words I want to say! “
Under the moonbeam and sparkling scattered stardust,
I can feel the dew, which surpasses through the night.
As I speak to you in tongue, this stale flavor becomes overdone.
A taste of what is behind them luscious ludicrous lips.
I finally ask!
“Do you not feel what I feel?
Can you not feel my heart hesitating and holding hectically?
Addressed with attach anticipation on your side!
It is my hesitation, to answer with, “Please?”
The dwelling night disappears, underneath my deepen darken days,
In which makes every day, another night to come.
The wondering and whining worsens a little more.
I ache for seconds more, than my mind begins to mend.
The mornings keep approaching fast, the silences breaks!
Shattered scattered splattered words, finally released.
You start to nurture up around your notable noble nearsighted eyes.
For I have starved, just about all I can take.
Master of this crying slave…
“Your perception burns, the prescription, of persuasive deception.”
Your inacceptable improper intention cannot heal me now!
Leaving an awkward awareness feel, which lingers to the lustiness’, lost inside of me.
With a wallow with a swallow, soaping and spiting the sight of you.
Meanwhile your thoughts focus on the painful pulsating pleasure.
You will unleash on me…
For leaving all the crummy crumbling crumbs under our silver satin sheets.
I will be smacking and snaking surrendering and yielding, yearning at your will.
Please Master Can I have another, Cracker in bed~~ ?
by;PD
Nighttime falls shrouded dark and spiritless,
Wavering fire a glaze dying cinder.
In grim silence tears ebb and flow aimless,
Lips quake angry filled breath growing dimmer.
Loneliness devours inch by inch loves amber,
Left raw to feel the flesh stretch. Brittle crust
Steady smoldering embers, numb anger,
Solace grieving soul filled volcanic dust.
It worsens with the tick-tock of the clock.
None can replace time, not a second in
A day hidden beneath insensate lock.
Days overwhelming calamities sin.
Loneliness niggles as the mind wanders
Bound by loves suffering also ponders.
1/14/2020
Death has a profound effect upon many
dreaded thoughts come upon the mind
but why is this? is it really the end?
the holy scriptures show how we're blind
God makes clear in His holy word
there's a hell to shun and heaven to gain
whatever our beliefs we will move on
so put into focus what's in our brain
When we look at this world's state
as it gradually worsens all the more
would we want to stay here forever?
I think not! please open earth's door
When we have the good sense from above
to obey and follow the sovereign Lord
receiving the promises He will do
our spirit and heart strikes a chord
Death has it's positives
for the next world's better
leave this one taking nothing
believing all of God's letter
(Just some thoughts on death and some positives that can come from it.)
You must hang in there
No matter what happens
Through the rough times
Situations worsens
Before they get better
Just hang in there
Bad times do not last
Nights bring longer darkness, all I want to do is sleep,
Outside the weather worsens, the snow will soon be deep.
Vines heavy with grapes await to be made into ice wine,
Each headache after, is worth it, from the nectar so sublime.
Making pumpkin pie and sipping apple cider - ACHOO!
Better make chicken soup too, now I’ve got the Flu.
Everything is warning me that old man winter is on its way,
Recognizing this sad reality, oh yes, its also another birthday!
Written by Lee Ramage
August 30, 2011
For Carol Brown’s contest
“Fall is around the corner”
Won 2nd place
To write a tongue twister is not funny mister
I just don’t know where to begin
There’s one that I’ve written with which I’m quite smitten
But I’d had a very large gin...
Workers wrinkles worsen when wind worsens winters worst weathers
If your decision is instant derision
I guess I should try it again
So here is another, I pray to my mother
That your words will not cause me pain
Working writers write written works: Writing workers write workers rights
But too many choices in too many voices
Might just leave some of you floored
So I think one more is plenty before
I leave every one of you bored...
Fierce forest fires frazzle thrushes feathers
So, okay, I’ll brave it and say that’s my fav’rit
I hope that it tangled your tongue
But if that one didn’t but one of them did
It means that my song had been sung
P.S... Freds frozen fingers feed thread through first
7 January 2021
Contest: Tongue Twister Challenge
Sponsor: Joe Sandler
The Storm
We stand at the edge of the sea
Where waves rush towards us like snapping dogs
and high above our heads, the seagulls surf the wind for thrills.
Their noisy squawks and calls cannot be ignored,
As the storm carries them upon its windy back,
To deposit them above the harbour.
The weather worsens, so we head towards the pub in the harbour,
While the thrashing nauseous sea
Finds things that it had long hidden and throws them back:
The wood from a boat, a fishing pole, the rubber balls from a hundred dogs.
Looked over by beachcombers but mostly ignored.
These are not the things that bring them thrills.
Then those who find that surfing, thrills,
Come up mob-handed, these strange, seal-like creatures, from the harbour,
and the tempest is ignored.
As they rush, laughing towards the sea.
This angry sea told about in tales by old sea dogs.
They surf on to the beach, then turn and swim back.
We carry on to shelter. Turning back,
we see the seagulls have forsaken their wind-swept thrills
and stand around, begging like hungry dogs,
In the pub carpark, on the harbour.
But coach trip visitors who have come for the day to the sea,
Cram into the pub, to avoid the storm and the seagulls are ignored.
The sign that reads ‘No Wet Clothes in The Bar’ has been ignored.
When they’ve dried and eaten, they’ll go back,
To tell their friends about the angry sea
and how, in a tiny whitewashed pub, they found safe harbour.
They came for thrills,
And ate hot dogs.
We sat on the carpet in front of the fire like two wet dogs,
The singeing smell from our clothes was ignored.
As we dried ourselves in that cold harbour.
And resolved to go back
to see what thrills
had been left in our house for us, by our neighbour the sea.
Later in the pub, stories of the sea
are told by the locals, the old ‘Sea Dogs’,
But today, everyone thrills
to their tales and they are not ignored.
For we all live around this harbour,
And now we really must head back.
FLAWS
Seems to me this nation would have less flaws
If we could purge millions of inane laws
Made by congresspersons
Alas, it only worsens
'Tis enough to tighten this feller's jaws
FLAWLESS
Though Wyatt Earp's modus operandi was far from flawless
He knew how to administer justice to the lawless
He faced some rowdy cowboys in a godforsaken locale
Leavin' 'em sprawlin' in the dust at the OK Corral
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 1 in Skat's "Flawless vs Flaws" Contest - February 2011
I keep my feelings incarcerated, locked behind bars. And when it comes to emotions they might as well be Mars. Or some Faraway planet, never explored. I mean who needs in emotions and what are they for. I just don't understand, maybe I'm just dumb but when it comes to emotions I think I'd rather stay numb. I don't need to feel, I'd rather not hurt. Because when it comes down to it, I've been treated like dirt. I've been walked all over, more than once. And to feel that way again is not what I want. So when it comes to emotions, they're more like thoughts. Thoughts inside a bottle, locked away in a box. So let's open the box and see what it contains. Let's spill the bottle as it slowly drains, it's absorbed by paper, exposed thru ink. So these are my feelings, now tell me what do you think? They've been so long gone, buried deep. So long dead, like something extinct. So long hidden and completely on purpose. I just burry them deeper, each time they resurface. So I don't feel my feelings and I ignore my emotions. Most times I don't notice as my situation worsens. And if you're a good judge of character, you can see for yourself. That I consider my emotions to be bad for my health. But as unhealthy as that may seem, I don't hurt anymore. So somebody please tell me what emotions are for.
Yes indeed, their inhibitions have been freed;
they knew the public in this republic,
They knew them well and our bent towards hell,
They made up a bill while drinking their swill,
to destroy a nation by charm of oration.
They chose a man from a different land
with the power to persuade as if to aid.
Of course he’s part of a plan,
An intricate scam
to destroy a nation by power of oration.
There is no good in it, no logic, no sense,
And if you ask a supporter, he’ll say "na uh!
I heard it from a reporter!"
That’ s all he’s got. No facts or acts to the good;
Just “I like him so I’m voting for him, understood?!”
One can recognize evil's danger
because of its proneness to anger.
Never mind that what he and his cronies instill
Is not in the constitution’s will,
Or what they intend to strategically enforce
DOES NOT APLY TO THEMSELVES,.. OF COURSE.
You see, they know that “We the people”
have become blind and apathetic;
our morality and ethics at best pathetic.
We’ve been trained over a period of time,
that evil is good and good a crime.
So now there is nothing in their way,
left to persuade or sway.
For their election campaign they are employing
some of the pawns they have planned on destroying.
Talk about the great pride filled duped!
They get angry if you show them some facts,
as if the messenger is the one that’s looped.
We have to pray for those misguided persons,
before their involvement in it worsens.
And they end up suffering the guilt
of their children’s future being spilt.
So all is going according to an engineered plan,
The pawn is in place in the shape of a man,
With the power of oration,
And nothing left to do
But destroy the nation.
But what have all the commercials been saying?
Reinforcing American vanity by portraying,
You deserve it!
And ..I’m worth it!
Good luck with that.
Oops, I guess that one doesn’t rhyme.
But we’ll come to realize it ….in time.
Fate or choice which controls your life?
So you believe in fate do you?
Is that your fate or
do you choose to believe it?
Are you destined to believe in destiny?
So then,
if fate predetermines
everything we do, and the result,
then really ...
there is no such thing as free will...
yet we know...
we were created with free will
how do we know?
try training a child to obey
is it easy
or do they
have their own will?
ok ok... so
do you wear a seat belt?
why?
because statistics prove
that wearing seat belts
saves lives!
So if someone chooses (note the choice of wording)
to ignore the law
and does not
wear a seat belt
and is killed
was it fate?
or just a bad choice?
When you are sick
do you go to the doctor?
Why?
Because your chances
of getting better are higher
if...
you seek medical treatment.
So if someone has a cold
and it worsens
and it becomes pneumonia
and he chooses (note the choice of wording)
not to seek treatment
and dies...
is it fate?
or bad choices?
In a time of war
is it safer on the front lines
or in your comfortable home?
Yet, it is said that a soldier died
because it was his time, his fate,
really?
Was it destiny
or was it
a consequence
of his choice?
So do you believe in fate?
Is it your fate?
Or is it your choice?
If you choose to believe
that your future
is in fates hands
then fate requires you to
not wear a seat belt
not to seek medical attention
and to sign up
for the front lines
of the next war
because it
doesn't matter anyway
you're in fates hands
right?
Or do you have a choice?
John Derek Hamilton
April 27, 2016
Majority of earth belongs to them
They are the humans of the ocean
Unlike the ones on the land, me and you
They're living the life they were intended to
Half of their species aren't starved and diseased
Like the greed and destruction we have achieved
They don't pollute their own environment
Our world to them is an embarrassment
And even worse, our mess spreads to their space
Oil covering birds and seals, it is a disgrace
Dolphins are now called non human persons
And more at risk as our pollution worsens
If they could speak our language, I wonder what they'd say
Maybe they would tell us, just how to live the right way
August 21, 2016
Someday soon
a season that is very harsh
will overtake us -
be it in the summer
(when the lack of rainfall
and autumn's chill are obliterated
way past the fall,
leaving mouths parched and bodies sweltering
beneath an unrelenting sun)
or whether it be in winter and beyond that season -
(when fierce frigidity worsens
and below zero temperatures
have people freezing
in their very own homes),
this fifth season will come upon
all people of the world.
Many will wonder . . .
what does it mean?
Those in the know
will be prepared, not just physically,
but spiritually, emotionally and mentally as well.
Prepare yourselves, good people
who understand my meaning.
Be prepared and stand not in fear.
Nov. 7, 2022
For Anthony Biaanco's "The Fifth Season Poetry Contest
On a lonely islet, on top of a precipitous cliff, in the farthest sea,
a bird built a nest and kept clinging onto her empty nest though
all birds were, feeding their chicks with abundant food from the sea
and rose to adolescence, left for a southern island for warmer climate.
As time elapsed the vexed bird sank exhausted under a fierce storm coming by the raging waters smashing the shore, picks a pebble,
and returns to her nest. She sits on the stone as if it is an egg
she was incapable of laying one, and transmits the warmth of life
that comes from her weakening heart.
Surroundings become darker as weather worsens, and in this darkness that no way to distinguish waters edge from skyline the rolls of thunder pierce the ears and a thunderbolt strikes the rock to smash it
in pieces.
Nonetheless, this pathetic mother bird sits still, rather, she pulls stone deeper into her bosom because her only desire was to transmit source of life to this lifeless stone.
After transmitting all her body temperature to this lifeless stone,
therefore, her strength gave out at last, this mother bird barely
rising her slender neck to look up at the sky to appeal her
cherishing desire, a thunderbolt strikes her back as thunder rolls,
a billow surges to swallow the isle.
At this tragic moment,
though mother bird perished, a beautiful chick with downs
brighter than dazzling sun hatched from this thought-lifeless stone.