Folks choke and croak, it’s no joke
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
I hate political poems. Not for me,
the human wad that clogs the great high way.
A love that’s everyone’s business? Forget it. A drink
from the common trough? No, thanks. The public: yuck.
— from the Greek
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
CREDO-POETRY IS AN ORAL ART AT ITS BEST WHEN RECITED
it then becomes a two-way unique one-off.experience .
TRADITIONAL LINE CAPITALISATION RHYME ..in tetrameter (ABBA).YES..
but NOT otherwise as it creates a natural pause (ie it stilts) & thus disrupts the flow
WRAP AROUND LINES are a no-no
they are not visually conducive to read digitally or otherwise!
POETIC NO NO s -acrostic,kyrielle terzanelle villanelle ,pantoum & the 'syllablics'
they can be good for a learning exercise,a bit like scales are important when learning the piano but are too contrived & mechanical IMHO for our art form
PROSE POETRY ok if visually shaped in open form style*
FORMS THAT ALWAYS RING MY BELL shape,emagi & ekphrasis ,imagist Rhyme,alliteration,clerihew,footle&hiku*(both in the singular especially)
*OPEN VERSE uses spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols relies upon 'the one breath limitation' this intuitive cadence pemits the 'reader' (reciter) to respond in an interpretative - interplay unique to the ' happening
I have marked my place,
I stand now in the
bulging vein of the moment.
No more hunting for meaning
or for anti-meaning,
all socks are white or not.
I am here.
a one-sized loosely fitted mind,
a tick and cross
on an illogical checklist,
acres stacked upon acres
of fifth dimensional
doubt, faith, and gnosis,
a bottomless barrel of chewed-over laughter.
I am all things and nothing,
happy to be
whatever you see
and I will not
gainsay your worst opinions,
but embrace every layer of the onion
even though you cannot perceive
the chameleon gifts
of my all too human superpowers,
or my agreeable acceptance
of your legendary life.
I am rooted in truth
and conspiratorial speculation
finding no fault in either
but still a knowing of what I am,
could have been or was.
I am raised up in my lowliness and glory
no longer there or anywhere
simply this kit and caboodle, this enchilada.
deeply sorry to be so unrepentant
and mostly happy to be sorry,
not a worry
or any flurry of guilt.
Expunged and indelibly revealed
as this ingenuity of self,
here now and gone
all along.
I write not for fame or riches, but, hopefully, for those whose lives it enriches!
Ever looking within,
the self-centred sin,
a contemporary credo,
feeding the ego.
"Let go
Let God...
Let reel,
let rod!"
--From the upcoming book,
"Chicken Soup for Your Mind"
by b.e. singer
Not all acquaintances
will become True Friends
but for them who do
male and female alike
i will bequeath
all those things
those honorable things
that lie embedded in
the special phrase
You are a True Friend of mine
as such i will
be there when you
are sick and lonely
i will be near
when you might
need an ear or
when you are
in despair
albeit in the
middle of the night
i will be there
in good times
and in bad
i can promise
you my loyalty
and assured support
material or moral
to you my true friend
i will never lie
nor cheat
let alone deceive
i will admit my errors
i will not use you
to polish my ego
and then
without a word
. . . . . turn
my back on you
abandon you
or spit you out
like a bad taste
and then
in silence stride
away as if
you never existed
as this friendship
is forever
Spirit will not be thwarted
it will move through even these circumstances
to call forth the truth
to bring about a healing that leads to wholeness
we are not alone
abandoned to darkness and confusion
but in our struggle with daily circumstance
grasp the essence of Source
and uncover our own tenacious hold on life
Live your best cheer with faith that frees,
Dance fond love here as hope moves spree.
Live your life well with love you spend,
Forge cheer that dwells on passion grand.
Live your best days with curious sighs,
Work fashions play to reap fond highs.
Live lovely path to touch and heal,
Love frames all stuff with fine goodwill.
Live true and brave with calm and peace,
Joy comes to save as love funds ease.
Live loving times in tact and act,
Let joy set rhymes in humble pact.
Live well each day your happy quest,
Dare to obey your highest best.
Live with pure zest with lovely cheer,
Buzz greets wise quest such lively spheres.
Love is the sign that tells on you,
Your heart and mind shows what you do.
Leon Enriquez
11 June 2015
Singapore
i.
I hope for my dreams with yearning...
as when mothers look for signs of new life
as when flowers peer towards the sky for rain
as when anger waits on patience for peace.
ii.
I taste my dreams with vision...
as when hungry people dream they are eating
as when thirsty people fantasize they are drinking
as when blind people visualise seeing.
iii.
I walk in faith with praising...
as when lame men, walk, and dance for His glory
as when mute men, talk, and start to sing His praises
as when dead men, revive, and live for His purpose.
iv
I've faith that my dreams have occurred.
That my hope is somehow,
reverse evidence shouting back to me to believe now.
That my visions are reflections of events set to come.
Unless my unbelief severs the cord of a birth yet to come
Mike Concise © 2015
www.mikeconcise.com
Credo on the Dignity of Humankind
My task is
to live
to love
to die like that.
Hallelujah!
It is enough.
~
I have lost
I have been lost
I am lost
I have found
I have been found
I am found
I have hated
I have been hated
I am hated
I have loved
I have been loved
I am loved
...Dedicated to my good friend, Jack Horne
Path of righteous indignity is mine.
Won't tolerate cruelty...
There but for grace goes I.
for Chris's contest
CREDO FOR A DARK NIGHT OF THE SOUL
No no no
Refuse to disbelieve
Shriek out in protest at the infidel
If no true love exists
Life is mere subsistence
The great hunger of the soul for communion
Becomes a lone peregrination
Of cold clay-heavy steps
In a black tunnel down
To a dead end in the ground
But
Believe two spirits can meet
And sense they are kin
A brother knows a sister’s familiar face
The windows of her soul are opened
By a familiar heart
Believe in love, in a life-light,
Know this is good, and right
A daily miracle
Like new-open buds or a baby born
A rare intensity and beauty, a dawn
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.