Choice is a void,
fear of the unknown is a delicacy we can't afford,
regret, a high profile plug,
Loved ones, our own asphyxiation, slow grueling, and cold. Cruel.
Still they are our duty(to break, then bury and afterwards even about whom brag.)
If you don't believe me just wait and watch and in all honesty my only hope is that someday i will be wrong.
Someday I will be wrong.
Being a mother is easily, the toughest job in the world -
Although it oscillates from "delightful", to "exhausting" to "thankless",
It is at most times, a demanding and overwhelming one.
Motherhood's main requirements are patience and love
Along with the ability to teach, discern, protect and nurture.
It needs a lot of resolve, to look into those pleading, mischievous eyes,
And decide when to give and when to stop -
How much to indulge, how much to restrict.
Rewards and recognitions depend on your perspective -
The feel of being wanted, the allocation of more work
And the hugs and kisses - these usually top the list.
The nature of work may change with time,
But the adventure never fizzles out -
It is forever, an eventful journey of learnings, joy and regrets.
It's only a mother who can swing beautifully -
From the joy of watching the child grow and spread their wings,
To the throes of getting detached from them.
Only a mother can process the mixed emotions -
From the heady rush of revelling in the child's joys,
To making sacrifices of her own desires and sometimes, health.
Corruption in the rumours and on the scenes
High profile slaps and cattle vaccines
Taxes, levies and airport leases
Pleasure decreases and pressure increases
Critics disappear in a bid to peddle fear
Rage and despair always lingers in the air
In the web of science and in the display of art
But it all meets a deaf ear and a hardened heart
Cry much tears and make much noise
But nothing under the sun presents choice
We are in the middle of a humbling occasion
Where we turn to God in desperation
We have tried change in its ranges
And for ages in sin and its wages
And the overturns have brought us to this
Where justifiers of war are men of peace
We now recall unheeded warnings
Now that we suffer squeezed earnings
But that is water under the bridge
We scale in huff the steepness to the ridge
Armed with no trust in fellow man
Neither buying his promise nor plan
And this I will teach my children
To cast faith only to God in Heaven.
K. Muitherero
There's a passport I would like to revoke
from one person who thinks it's a joke
to repeatedly make fun of fellow writers.
Like a pugilist, she calls us 'prizefighters.'
What harm if we enjoy entering contests?
That doesn't prove whose poetry is best
because one person's opinion has weight
and another says it's open for debate.
If she's trying to deflate anyone's intellect,
she won't do it with a weapon of disrespect.
I applaud people who bravely try a new form
They're not afraid to write out of the norm.
She stabs with a pen, trying to draw blood
while sitting on her toosh like a couch spud.
We don't write to be popular. She's wrong,
but lord, she keeps howling the same ol song.
She claims we want attention and a high profile,
but her posts draw attention in words that defile.
I've never understood why her eyes get glazed
over contest entrants who should be praised.
She dares write of grace and having humility
but complains vehemently, and with hostility.
Her PS passport should be revoked & shredded
as punishment for being rude and hardheaded.
Since I was blessed to land here,
One matures…….as a young deer.
To be popular, is not my desire.
But to grow in desire, for poetry’s fire.
To be above all, graced with humility.
Do I try new forms in a mad frenzy?
For me, that simply…is not my style.
Truth, beauty, but never high profile!
The rain kisses the earth, as I now write.
Unable to pen of matters, rude or too trite.
12/2/2022
I won't look for you if the apocalypse arrives
It's those like me with the least reason to live
who will survive to continue searching in
vain for anything of value as we did before
civilization as we know it ceased to exist
when the finer things in life become
a tin of beans, clean water, a warm blanket
tinder for a fire and a safe place to sleep
when names mean nothing and money
is merely worthless paper printed with
portraits of monarchs and presidents
so precious previously to those with power
and influence who didn't give a damn about
people like us though they'd make a pretense
if it would be easy and to their benefit
when it was convenient and didn’t conflict
with the next high profile black tie event or
champagne soirée where the income
of the guest list for a single year that they
pissed away on the puerile and frivolous
would have ended world hunger and poverty
Life won’t be all that different honestly
struggling to stay alive though we don’t know
why as there’s nothing in it for us but
another Dickensian day of hopelessness
Who doesn't know I can bake
A befitting king John's Cake
And other senior Job's take:
People of High profile make?
Far into the night awake,
Knowledge displayed for its sake,
None of my finished products fake
Not what makes hirers rake
Nor cause to drown in a lake
Nor me liken to a snake...
Sure, I'm blowing my trumpet,
Claiming sweet - smelling armpit:
I had been Luck's Ignored Pet
For decades with eyelids wet...
Yves Klein trademark IKB
for 'happenings' he loved to see
Influential&a high profile game
achieving '15 minutes of fame'
To make this one easy to spread,
You will need.
At least one high profile celebrity,
Or Politician.
You could substitute any person who is in a high position of trust.
An event organiser,
And a Spin Doctor.
Method,
Remove the high profile brain and wash it thoroughly,
Making sure to remove any family ties,
And burning them,
So they can not grow back.
Once the brain is back in place,
You are ready to introduce the spin Doctor to the mix,
No skimping on Quality here,
If you want some grains of truth still left on the newly washed brain.
When you are satisfied the spin Doctor,
Has got the theory to a spreadable consistency,
Then it is time to entrust it to your event organiser.
The beauty of this recipe apart from the fact,
That no one wants to claim copyright on it,
Is that it can be made to fit any theory,
With little change of ingredients.
Good luck and remember I didn't give you the recipe.
The Almighty said, “You have a gift – go and prophesy.”
Like celebrated prophets of long ago, I thought, “Oh, my!”
Messages came rapidly over the next few days
I wrote them in notebooks, sometimes in a daze.
Covering some serious topics, others seemed willy-nilly,
And, some came across to me as perfectly silly:
A retired elderly actor will star in a major blockbuster
Critics will pan it as a complete waste of time – lackluster!
A best-selling author whose bodice-busters were widely read
Will be discovered in a well-known hotel room cold and dead.
Everyone aboard a transcontinental flight to Europe will be okay
When a brave and competent pilot returns his plane to J. F. K.
A shocking revelation in a high profile sex-trafficking case
Will make it hard for a well-known, public figure to save face.
Two of the world’s wealthiest men will embark on a race
To see which of the two will be the first company in space.
Handing Trump the election
I big cities in the Us people are running wild
this is not what “ black life matters” was about
a horde of people are running around destroying what is sacred
or should be, in cities of high crime.
We can argue the reason for this pointless criminality
to create mayhem for the sake of it, the fact many black people
live there and appear to gun-related gangs, not because
they are black but because they are uneducated and poor
living in squalor in drug-infested housing where only a few
survive by moving away.
The majority of letting us call them lost egoist people see
this lack of order and civility,
the high profile black leaders do little about this only come
out of their luxury home when there is a funeral
repeat the same trite words, but have nothing worthwhile to
say about crime and the woeful lack of education.
They the well off in the suburbia see this and not knowing
its origin, simply vote for Trump and so it goes on until
we live in in a failed state.
Citizens were upset
With the Honey Hornets set
They played dance songs
But it was all wrong
Records being abused
Scratching them when used
Stingers created a vibe
That said let the music die
Before the first forty five ended
Twilight Zone Rod should be commended
Two for Stirling
Hometown hive was swirling
Only to see another pair go by
Relegation staring bees straight in the eye
Four score
Sky Blue headed for the door
“Nice seeing you here
Will be playing for champions league cheer
In the coming year
Tabloid stuff did not work
Honesty was how we popped the cork”
Later in the day Gunners held fire
While Aston’s Villa was put on the tight wire
If this was the end to the show
Arsenal would let them know
First half saw one in
Enough for a claret blue army crucial win
This allowed a table jump
To safety over buzzing hump
No need reporting anything new
Except the canary could be dining on honey dipping stew
In the dungeon
Doing some number crunching
Asking themselves why did we go to that high profile luncheon
Where we did all the munching
Burnley had a conjugal date after getting a vision
Was warned you may want to listen
To the canary finishing his mission
Relocating to a lower level
Feeling a wee bit better not needing a shovel
Getting experience from the higher league
Canary play should increase and be at a winning degree
Venturing to the dungeon
After buying snacks for the munching
Seeing it in sight
Wanting diplomacy not a fight
Pouring some Claret wine
Two sat down for a dine
While each other picked each other’s mind
Everything proceeded in calm fashion
No scoring just a lot of passing
Until plenty of ticks were put on the clock
When wood was a chip off the old block
Spirits were high
A break they did try
Canary pondered “‘A’ rated exposure could be a lie”
Come back more refreshed
Burnley waited watched wanting a drunken confess
Near the conclusion
Canary made a goal that added to the losing
It was the knockout punch
Closing the weekend late late lunch
Parting their ways
Canary had nothing to say
Green and yellow
Quietly mellow
Letting go
Moving on to another show
Pay Citizens one last visit
Their high profile property sold, no longer listed
Staring out at the bridge
Empty was his fridge
In a United Kingdom dungeon
World crumbling
Canary needed attention
Wondering about pension
Off to Stamford he went
Figuring out how to pay the rent
When he arrived Chelsea honestly tried
And before the brake
A goal they did make
Leaving Canary with nothing
Except relegation while huffing
Then puffing
Keeping it close
Canaries did not roast
Dreaming a shot went through
Everything would be level between the two
It did not happen
And Canary returned home flapping
Pensioners gave the song birds a chance
To perform a shirtless dance
Leaving them with a thought
After they fought
Saying, “We are back on top
Not ready to stop
Winners of the lower division
More mature then those having high profile missions”
Next time when things are down and out
Remember this lesson to think about
Do something with that pension check
And tomorrow there could be successful respect
The media has two faces: mayhem and disharmony.
They bring in the highest of ratings.
Harmony and unity are ratings disaster for the media execs.
They couldn't care less about the people.
They get off on Plane crashes and train wrecks.
They are voice boxes for evil.
They love mass shootings, wars, and church arson fires.
Most of all, they adore a high-profile white-on-black crime.
Then they sit back with popcorn in hand.
Enjoying their heavily biased, fueled race riot.
Playing the same clips.24/7/365/ from a one-sided perspective.
Then enter the clowns.
The politicians in their ties and stilettos. Hustling for votes.
Then the activists and reverends slither in.
Stirring the golden pot with bullhorn rhetoric.
Hoping everything turns to rot.
The Soros's anarchists are there to make a quick buck
Get off and leave their greasy wet spot.
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.