Best Wronging Poems
I know a world of sadness in your grace
because in thee, I cannot trace
my own world's longing to embrace
some crudeness wronging, some deface.
Cantingly, subjects stronging with replace
of aptitude, and songing - happier days
that built hope's erstwhile thronging, not encased
with worries staid belonging's commonplace.
Oh love, beloved will - seek thought, not maze
from crippling entities programmed abrade.
That gift of life, of God, not lean-to craze
of modern tempo's struggling with self praise!
His gift of love, I know, with thee .. He made!
Hollering my pain
Swallow me, blackness, swallow!
Rid me of wronging!
That I do tonight
My lone witness a guitar
Watch me weep the sea
Just a dark stool I'see
Now not even me to bear
As steps sound my leave
A Letter to be read...
Dear whoever cares,
If you're reading this letter I wanted to make you feel better in this darkened weather....as the cold breezes through your sweater and touches your skin...
I want you to grin....knowing that the life I'm living is a life of giving....
my heart is a warm spot for you to embrace...for you to feel safe and sure that my faith was pure....in you being happy with whatever you are...whoever you are...
you are your own star...shine...take life and go as far as you can...be the woman or man you chose to be...be free with your thoughts don't stand around watching time float by....take the serious make it funny take the funny make it reality...
take the feel good with the bad...cause how sad would it be if we didn't live for we.....
Dear whoever cares.....this letter is for you to make you realize that the lies
and alibis made were made in the shade not in the light always wronging the right....stand and fight for your belief...for your morality...for your reality....
stand and speak your mind...don't be weak...rewind what was spoke...go for broke...Dear whoever cares, color the dark nightmares that once were dreams to people that love life....Dear whoever dares to care....
-By: Peter DeSpirito
ITS BORN OF LOVE
That empty soul feeling of longing
when you know you have to part
ways with one held in your heart
ever and always so dear
That anticipative feeling of anxiety
when you don't know as to whether
the one you hold so dear to your heart
is ever coming back again
That feeling of wronging and hurt
when the one you love so dearly
repulses your advances carelessly
that feeling is born of love
LEWIS NYAGA
26/01/2014
Copyright 2014 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
POETIC LYRICS BY THOMAS L.H. ANDRESS
Dedicated to EVERY AND ALL MELISSAS, ELIAS' & MATILDA'S!
(BANGING IT TO THE MAX!)
(HILLARY AND BARRY...2016...PEANUTS & BRITTLE!)
NIGHTS...OUT...My-Time-is-OUT!
My-Light...is-OUT...He-was-a-lousy-LOUT!
In-my-lousy-NIGHT-OUT...My-Poster's-STROBING!
LIGHTS-OUT...AND-STROBING!
FLASHING-AND-DASHING...He-was-a-lousy-LOUT!
If-crystal-smiles...CRACK...He-was-a-lousy-LOUT!
If-teeth-don't-SQUEEZE-RIGHT...HE-WAS-A-CROOK
AND-CROOKED!
If-crystal-smiles...CRACK...He-was-a-lousy-LOUT!
You-wonder-AND-DOUBT...Are-you-SMART-or-DUMB
AND-A-LOUT?
I'M-SMART...AND-YET-YOU-DOUBT!
He-said-WONG-ing-And-WRONGING-BRING-DOUBT
SO-PEN-RIGHT...AND-DON'T-DOUBT!
He-was-a-lousy-LOUT!
A-CROOK-TO-THE-MAX...AND-A-LOUT!
CONNING...to-the-MAX!
LIKE...A-MAD-MAX...SO-DON'T-DOUBT!
If-TOOTHY-GRINS...SPIN-YOU-RIGHT-TO-WRONG!
DON'T-DOUBT...He-was-only-a-lousy-LOUT!
In-the-howling-BLUE-STARLIT-CRACK-OF-LIGHT!
BURSTING-and-SPINNING-TO-THE-RIGHT-TO-LEFT!
BLUE-LIGHT!
And-when-I-awoke...toothy-grins...and-smily-faces
MY-SISTERS...TOOTHY-GRINS!
MY-SISTERS...IN-TOOTHY-GRINS...AND-PINKY-TOES!
Dancing-in-the-BLUE-LIGHT!
POSTERS-BLAZING...AND-DAZING!
SMILING-FACES...AND-TOOTHY-GRINS...ALL!
OUR-WALLS!
AND-BLUE-LIGHTS...AND-STROBES!
ORBS-OF-OUR-HOPES-AND-DREAMS!
If-you-wonder-and-DOUBT...Our-Boxes...OF-TOYS-BRING...GRINS!
TOOTHY-and-TOOTHLESS!
THE-BEASTS-IN-THE-HOWLING-AND-WINDLESS...SWIRLING
'NADOES...IN-THE-PUREST...HOPES-AND-DREAMS!
OUR-BOXES...OF-OUR-HEARTS...DREAMING-AND-SCHEMING!
HOPES-AND-DREAMS...STORED-RIGHT!
RIGHT-TO-LEFT...AND...LEFT-TO-RIGHT...SPUN-RIGHT!
SWIRLING-AND-TWIRLING...BURSTING-AND-BIRTHING!
When...MOM-AND-DAD...POPS!
It-was...CRYSTAL...and-POP!
'NANAS...AND-CRUMBLY...CAKE...AGAIN?!?!
SCHOOL'S...OUT!
LIGHTS-OUT!
YAY!
YAY!
NO-WAY! NO-WAY!
AND-WITH-OUT-PINKY-TOES-AND-PINKY...JUMPS-TA-START!
CRYSTAL-BLUE...STARLIGHT!
CRYSTAL-BLUE...STARLIGHT!
LIGHTS-ARE-OUT!
LIGHTS-ARE-OUT!
STROBING...AND-STROBING! CRYSTAL-BLUE-STARNIGHTS!
STROBING...AND-STROBING! CRYSTAL-BLUE-STARNIGHTS!
FINI--------------------------------------------------------FINI!!!
Transaltor
A Dialect Poem
The Transaltor is here again Sahib he has something to say to thee. Jobor is
speaking.
Transaltor is speaking: Sahib eye must travel many moons to visit the aged yew
it must be hard to understand the English of this madman he is typo mad he
makes eye the I the pronoun and the ewe his wife she must be happy to have
him oh wait no we cannot judge a poet it must be style to bring a smile to every
poets faces
Sahib speaks now: just tell me he sent me message and disturbed my aged
wisdom in my places that eye visit are we still friends
Jobor speaks again:
Yes Sahib he would not answer thus without a reason.
Narrator speaks to crowd: What devotion if his servant is thus happy with this
poet than he must have a very good reason to speak so off the wall and seem so
badly wronging them
Transaltor says YES it seems so he says he is very sorry he called yew the back
end of a camel can we still be friends my friend
Sahib says YES
Sometimes i sit back and wonder if death is another natural thing or simply ultimate price which every human must pay for wronging The Almighty God and all the gods.. Many times i wonder if heaven actually has an idea of the depth of pain which we deal with each time another loved one dies. Like, why let us come here, go through so much sufferings, hustles and pains, build so many sweet memories here and then cut off just like that?? Do we actually deserve another punishment after the painful exit?
Why do we even come here in the first place?
Why do we go to after having it short and hard here? God remember us in your favour in our last day.
.
May the souls of all the faithful departed through the mercy of God Rest in peace. Amen.
If I can well remember,
It was not long ago,
You were the man I called my father,
The same man I shared a roof with,
The same man I shared a meal with,
When with problems the man I turned to,
And what did you do?
You took away my innocence,
As if you lack common sense,
You never cared how little I was,
I cant believe you are the same man I knew,
Why did you have to do this to me?
In the whole world why did you chose me?
Your daughter!!!!
I need an answer father,
What did I ever do to you?
I don’t remember wronging you,
The good friendship we shared is ruined now,
And how am I supposed to react now?
Am I supposed to say you are a monster?
For Christ sake you are supposed to be my protector,
But you turned to a molester,
The love I had for you have turned to hatred,
Inside my heart is a big wound,
A wound created by my own father,
I and I don’t think I will ever recover,
As the images of that day are fixed on my mind,
Sometimes they drive me mad,
And the pain I can’t hold it,
I cry aloud to let it out,
Filled with so much questions,
Am yet to find the answers,
Hoping one day I will heal inside,
And I will get to understand,
Why these actions had to come from my father,
What he really wanted to gain,
For him to put me through all that pain,
As I still wait,
Am wondering what next.
If I could write a poem I would
but I doubt if it would be much good.
I can’t wax lyrical and shout
of virtues I feel nowt about.
I need to have something to say
regarding love,
or in some way
on need and longing
or want and wronging.
Things about a heart’s complaint
and there ain’t
a lot of rhymes
for sorry.
My head’s reeling it’s all too surreal
My heart questions just what is real
My mind couldn’t describe how I feel,
O spirits awaken my conscience.
An overwhelming feeling of longing
Hopes and fears together thronging
I wonder why it’s me fate is wronging,
Oh, I long for self-transcendence.
~A Brian Strand contest
The flower of the soil, not curse but I
am same, not cutting ~ beings lie
The flower of my eye, seems only thy
contention only seeding in reply!
What grows in longing symbolizes try,
befit with wronging, nurtures less imply.
Some grace befits an answer, asking why
love seeds it's error firstly, but to die!
As all man contemplative risk deny
am I thus overstated, nay, but nay!
This truth congratulaltive feels no wry
the heart left but to ponder, finds it's sky ~
still deep inside its hurting . . . frees its cry!
since i been on mudda earth,the lurid left felt me a jerk.but never been,next to
him,bill clinton,than when,he said,and i quote,the show,the hurricane
katrina,thats a bling arena,a minority show off,learn to use the rope.so i dope
along,miking my song and wonging,deling,wronging.swimming lessons
included.
My head’s reeling it’s all too surreal
My heart questions just what is real
My mind couldn’t describe how I feel,
O spirits, awaken my conscience.
An overwhelming feeling of longing
Hopes and fears together thronging
I wonder why it’s me fate is wronging,
Oh, I long for self-transcendence.
The essence of mind is life
The essence of heart is love
The essence of soul is consciousness,
Oh, I long for the integral alignment.
~03/15/21
~Contest: Inner Alignment
~Host: Unseeking Seeker
You shouldn't know the colour of falling light
As it descends into the abyss of passion.
When limbs intertwine in sweet complete delight
And the thin skin wraps the fiery flesh
In the soothing caress of the conductor's hand
Cris crossing and cutting the air afresh
With his smooth effervescent and pulsating baton.
You shouldn't know the colour of his seduction,
His ragged jagged downward pointing chin,
The tangled mangled wilderness of his beard,
The forceful resourcefulness of his kisses,
The colours of that fascinating rude tattoo.
The feeling of injection and quick retraction,
You shouldn't know the colour of his flame,
Or the sound of his intoxicating and secret name
You must somehow savour with hungry lust.
Eyes rolling back as you inevitably fall
It is all some God almighty magnetic rich taboo.
His name, his eyes, the things you will recall
In the lonely moments of night time longing,
When you know it was all a dreadful act of wronging
That must be forever pushed aside, inside, denied,
Far away from the colour of the falling light.
© Allen Ansell 2025
My own intent, transfused with some regret,
adventures teaming forth, conditions set
still rally hope, a virtuous trial's inept,
so faith in love begins a journey's kept!
Almost consigned to destiny, so swept
with innuendo's challenging's accept.
I gather strength to tally not those left,
the footpath winding onward steers my depth!
And I am overdrawn with feeling's cleft,
the music of my longing seems my debt.
Exaggerated thronging riles to wept,
a loneliness, a wronging, yet but yet ~
Thy love, my love at losing, Soul's concept
filled nought to grieving's choosing . . . as to death!