A feeble excuse that's plain as day,
given in the forlorn hope
it evokes forgiveness and pity,
with a lame witty ditty tale,
about what the dog ate,
is demacing, defacing, emacing and demurring.
It voids the hope of mercy, pardon and exoneration
that the dog ate as well.
Could walk the road
As plain as day …
Could even pen an ode
The old - fashioned way
One minute past midnight
Hill and dale, utterly still,
All shone a brilliant white
Around a biting chill …
Claw - like branches almost grab
From out the snow’s white crust,
Where even diamonds seem drab
Under boot could crack and bust
Donning but a coat of frost
Left footprints in the snows,
Made it impossible to be lost
As long as moonlight glows
Not playing well at seek and hide
She makes the night less scary,
Pristine was a countryside …
Below the moon in January.
They said I’d win, no problem, no sweat,
But let me tell ya, folks, we’re not there yet.
The polls are fake, the news is too,
They twist my words—what else is new?
The debates? A circus, with clowns all around,
They rigged the mic, turned up the sound.
I crushed ‘em all, as only I do,
But somehow they spin it, make me look blue.
The rallies are huge, the crowds never end,
But the media? They won’t even pretend
To show what’s real—just lies they repeat.
I’m telling ya, folks, I don’t face defeat.
The lawsuits? A witch hunt, plain as day,
But I’m still here, never going away.
I’ve got the stamina, I don’t need sleep,
While my opponents, well, they’re just sheep.
Twitter’s my weapon, my words are gold,
Best tweets ever, or so I’m told.
They ban me here, block me there,
But guess what? I’m still everywhere.
So yeah, this election’s been tough, it’s true,
But I’m not one to give up the view.
The White House? It’s mine, just wait and see,
You’ll be saying “Trump” till eternity.
My Friend.
I dreamt I saw you
Ignored you at first
Then I hugged you
My old friend
I wouldn’t let you go
As in real life I did
I want to reconcile
Take back the words
But what difference would it make?
None so I’ve heard
You were here
Plain as day
Your old self
I wish only good for you
I hope you know
I wish you luck
And now I’ll go.
David Cox 31/01/24
I know I’m right
So I’m keepin’ calm
I’ll bide my time
‘Til I drop the bomb
My flamethrower
Is almost charged
Into the room of your thought
I will barge
Why should I get angry,
When I know I’m right?
It’s pure and simple —
Plain as day
As obvious
As the nose on your face
My composure,
I shall maintain
While I stretch you
Across the rack of pain
(chorus)
No point in any of us
Growing upset
Let’s keep up manners
And etiquette
A side of wisdom, please
With that stuffing
You’re beet-red
All huffing and puffing
When did politics
Equal God?
When did we put our uncles
Before the firing squad?
Your Uncle Keith —
He’s always right
Now kiss my face and
Say goodnight
I'm either deflecting and rejecting
Or accepting and connecting
I'm attempting the correct thing
Or expecting a correcting
Got to to deal
With things directly
Or conceal
The things that get me
Behind a sheild
I think protects me
Like what I feel
Just Don't affect me
And my feelings are like ceilings They're always there but out of Reach
When I could reach them
From underneath them
I'm prepared to walk the streets
Every rhyme it has a reason
But the reason probably
Just convenient, for me to speak when
There's a chink in my armory
I don't examine all my madness And it's like nothing in my brain
But if it had been re-examined The assumption they would make
Is it's both magic and it's tragic
Both productive and insane
How I could grasp s***
Thats so gigantic
But miss the stuff that's plain as day
To believe in something or nothing
Is nothing I'm discussing
Because once it gets discussed it's just a discussion that gets redundant
And I'm reluctant to follow instructions
All instructors get interrupted and if there's one thing
You must remember
Is not to be a trust dispenser
There are a thousand colours
Ten thousand unknown
In the same way
You think you know a person
But you don’t know them.
Their personality is blue
Blue as the endless sky
There are endless faces of a person
You know some
You don’t know some.
Yellow sunshine giving way to yellow sunflowers
The brain is our body’s yellow
It is responsible for our growth
It cracks the mysteries of life
Like a click.
Whenever you see pink
You think about how beautiful it is
But never about, the red and white mixed to make it
In the same way you don’t see the pain people hide
And the hard work they did to reach where they are
Plain white
As plain as day
You just see the white side of people
You don’t know the dispersion of light
As you are unaware of the spectrum formed.
Their hearts are black
All emotions, all feelings mixed in it
Lilac love
Brown betrayal
Green jealousy
Orange joy
A blend of all fancies
A fusion of all colours is the black heart.
The black heart is made up of
A thousand colours
Ten thousand unknown.
Shadows are unforgiving,
stark in relief,
dark in infill.
These stiff hollow silhouettes
of gutted entrails
follow us around,
lacking the detachment
to avoid being brutally honest
about our outline shape and
where we've been and why.
We avoid looking back at
the shadowy dark-side behind us
that is plain as day
to those who watch our
tell-tale umbras
that trail behind
as tails
as wagging truth sayers,
dark, stark, stiff
unforgiving naked,
rear-view selfee cut-outs.
Hey there you.' Just put it down and step away.'
Reality is as plain as day.' Even night wont cover
You, you who are faceless; faithless thoiugh and
Through.' You cannot take the truth to court.' It
Won't be compromised or even bought.' Its free
To all just wait and see, It will come to you if
You'd let things be ' you might not see it coming
Along you might hear commotion, and opinions
Strong? You may get flattened heaven only knows?
Will it be by rhyme your comeuppence? Or
An avelanche of prose.?
Like a little princess
With magic wand in hand
I skipped passed abusers
With my "forgiven" granted
To you, and to you, and to you
Believing my work of restoration
....finished
Then, here she comes
I saw her plain as day
TRUTH
My "forgiven" releases others
From answering to me
But in the light of TRUTH
Nothing has changed
Like a bramble
Blowing in the Nevada desert
There they roll
No way to connect to others
In LOVE because they can not
See TRUTH
...receiving faith freely
Written by Trudy Schrader on 08-06-2023
I don't write poetry, just because I can
words just flow, they'd chase if I ran
Poetry is magical, a colorful collection
a rhythm, escape, a kaleidoscope injection
I don't use intelligence, to make me sound cool
sometimes what I write, makes me sound a fool
Poetry is my lifeline, not just to fill a hole
I write because I love it and feel it in my soul
Some words may be fancy, others plain as day
but poetry is an art, in a rainbow spectrum way
How ever you perceive it, whatever it makes you feel
forms and patterns change, but the Poet is very real.
"All night long under the moonlight, as plain as day before thy eyes, he shines in this disorderly world."
Quote by_poet
Zero the small zebra had faint black stripes,
shined under the moonlight.
Monkeys hung by their tails from pipes
thrilled at the sight.
The zookeeper loved to brush Zero's coat
while people stood and stared.
Marching in a grand way to gloat,
white goats were paired.
Zero walked circles around the green grass,
children on his back rode.
The zoo wildlife behind thick glass
even horned toad.
1/3/2023
Writing Challenge - Zip, Zig, Zag, Zing Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
I write poetry,
Simple poetry,
As simple as can be,
My grammar isn't hot,
Or my punctuality.
Sometimes I find it confusing,
When my pen flows easily,
It takes on a life of its own,
Taking control of me.
It has a sense of purpose,
As it scribbles away,
The content and message
Become as plain as day
I am unaware of holding the pen,
There isn't time to work it out
As off it goes again,
Effortlessly cavorting
All over the page,
Informative, reporting
Things humourous and sage
As I read the effort
My trusty quill has done
I salute this ink-filled implement
For it's the clever one!
The Looney Toon August Moon
David J Walker
Blame it on the moon
The monthly insanities
The nightly vanities
The comings
The going
the longings
In lonely mornings
The Moon is to blame
For all of the insane
Things I can name and
It is as plain as day that
The night might
Or might not sway things
Another way
In the light
Of a harvest moon
Setting south of August
The sweet scent of
Cooler air
Is on its way
The first time I see a newborn…I am always a bit surprised at the wonder I experience when I look into their eyes.
I see a future that looks rosy…one that, no doubt, for the parents will come too fast…but as I glimpse into their future from my present…in their eyes I also see their past.
They are surrounded by family and friends…who, by their expressions, already adore them…but also in their expressions I see the faces of all those who came before them.
I see Grandma’s, Grandpa’s, Uncles, Aunts…everyone smiling and glad…
I see brothers and sisters…nephew’s and cousins…I see Mom and I see Dad.
And when I look a little closer I see how all these faces harmonize…It appears to me as plain as day…when I look into their eyes.
How lucky are the newborns…not only because of all those people who’d been awaiting them…but for all the people in their past who played a huge part in creating them.
This is why when I see a newborn…I will always be surprised…at the wonder I experience…when I look into their eyes.
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