Why do men have an Adam's apple?
Because of sin and how we grapple
(It was Satan who did deceive Eve and ironically
It was Adam who choked (like the eye and the mote)
One thousand deaths every time we sin
One thousand breaths, this death, the lack therein
Then we eat sin and it becomes caught in our throat
Because we did not meet sin as one not inchoate
We don't support our wives even when we're right there
Why didn't Adam step in for his maiden so fair
Because we don't speak up in everyday conversation**
We don't meet the nay-sayer in every contemplation
We are called to battle sin everyday
Not explain or justify our sin away
So turn away from the sin that we play with
And away from the life that we decay with
And make a turn to a Savior because of our behavior
Have a stiff upper lip before the slip of the lip
Because Jesus rows us away from the slave ship
As I complete this poem and hand down this sentence
We've been given the gift-command of repentance
my ideas were ablaze
I felt I knew the truth
then I met another truth-sayer
he had a completely reversed perspective
I carefully listened and did an about face
my truth may not be anyone else’s truth
and their truth can never be mine
but neither of us are wrong, we are both right
for we have lived different lives
taken diverse paths
each feeling our way through life
giving you your truth is my gift to you
as giving my truth is your gift to me
we can be great friends
nonetheless
Leonard Cohen
Was A Soothe-Sayer.
He Could Just
Smell It.
Unless I Took A
Wrong Quantum
Indecision To
This Sacred Heart.
-Gray Squirrel
10-20-2025
Are gay jockeys fruit of the loom,
when riding a race on the course,
and would they need a leg-up,
to get on their high horse?
Bucking the system in a one-horse town,
or in the middle of a stream,
to look for gifts in a horse's mouth,
is not the smartest scheme.
Would a long-faced horse, a sourpuss,
not wanting to be a player,
bolt the barn door
and be a neigh-sayer?
If a broke cowboy, saddled with a nag,
a dark horse of a different colour that's *****,
were bent, a crooked rustler,
would he sell you a bum steer?
Poems request that I be authentic.
I am unsure my pen can take it.
I live life as an emotional sayer,
but should I now reveal each layer
my blood will spill upon this paper.
I have sought to give life tender smiles
while enduring heart wrenching trials.
I have glued events found fragile
into some matter I can handle.
I have not once run or pretended,
or taken pain and tried to bend it,
for one truth grew – my Father sent it.
To have peace, I must befriend it
or, God forgive, I must end it.
One small second is all powerful
and all it took to destroy all I knew.
It did not eclipse past tears lived thru,
but forever altered pain’s known hue.
Here I am, at the mid-century mark
searching out a new life for my heart.
Such desires are not easily caught.
The universe bruised, we constantly fought.
Life injures, it will hurt and blister.
Then there is joy, the sweetest kisser,
and for that I am still prompted on,
longing for fear-notes to leave my song.
Sadness revealed my spiritual soul,
took it thru hell to achieve its goal.
Each hurt is a small grain of my total pain,
so raw and brave behind my human name.
I have forsaken all to be with thee
might those I had created
and
there mothers be secondardary to
my needed
now I may speak of in tenses
that I have curse the
foods of her table as
(wHoop: Hooga;hooga< Ployed!)
with thyn Roosters
as (put, ting: plerb!)
and there Hens
Whoomp: ah Lumpa Whooga!)
Our Wedding
Hour Wedding
Suite Our oh Sayer
Plung: Plung: Pling
The invoice for dah
Clothes from
the Fat-People Store
or the Phat Peoplesz Stow
what ya'll talking bout?
Exploration into The Construction of "Father's Door "
A new concept City. Which with have a townseat named
Mother Apron. The place is beleived to create a manmade waterfall
and a man made volcano
that will house a water treament. A plant to build and sell
Crate and Barrel dwellings
that will suport mid poverish lifestyles.
This promagram is designed to use materails that support warmth and are easily cool
Equipment is half of the national avergae
meaning new compact equipment to regulae. Compact frigs, compact
washer, dryers
Say a word
That's separation..
Both the word and
The sayer seem to
Separate and divide
What is not separate..
The search might end
With this ordinary
Noticing...
The overpouring raindrops, the incessant rain outside was telling me continuously,
She was a story to nay sayer
and he was a theme park to symbolic haifa.
Baha'i temple and a raincoat.
People get soaked there.
With theocracy, bureaucracy, faithfulness, faithlessness, midlife crisis and many more like all these.
We and the downpouring sounds outside, are a drawback, still
That heavenly sky is still a striker hand of an indoor game!
It is tonight
I and my best friend decided
We shall make things right
We can't love each other and be divided
And for all I might
I shall say it and be delighted
What shall be said shall be said
By the sayer
and what shall be heard shall be heard
By the hearer
We cannot hold it till we're dead
Says the sayer
Tonight we go for a walk
To no destination
And as we walk we talk
To no estimation
And all shall be said in bulk
So we make the decision
But remember
Not December
It is tonight!!
I did not choose, I was chosen
the gate and keeper;
killer and cure
life not mine for living
walking paths you cannot see
talking tongues you do not know
I am the light burning inside
the darkness at the shore
that shadow in the corner
eyes, windows to be shared
extramundane -
soul searcher, truth sayer, circle squared
I am ancient numinosity
no idle curiosity
- I see the end
super boll
boll weevil twin brothers: one was great, one the lesser of two weevils
you killed my father, prepare to die
three-legged dog in a saloon: "looking for the man who shot my paw"
a news headline i'd like to see
buddhist avoids novocain wants to transcend dental medication
somewhere in the middle
she once told me i was average i said she was just being mean
that would be a real night-mare
he tries to not talk like a horse doesn't want to be a neigh sayer
what's a particle like you doing in a place like this?
neutron asks "how much for a beer?" the bartender says, "for you, no charge"
eleventh one's the charm?
i entered ten pun contests hoping one would win
no pun in ten did
Happy New Year to all... may your 2023 be filled with smiles
His earnest quest for survival
Has meant off-and-on revival,
Bus boarding to far-off crusades,
For weeks avoiding nice brocades…
Not anymore one who’d bubble,
Sometimes chin with a week’s stubble:
Arch enemies in connivance,
The injurious for contrivance;
Had in dreams poisoned his noodle
And Christ said “Straight into puddle!”
Enemies flexing raw muscle,
God making it Divine Tussle…
His fervent quest for survival
Has meant much speedier arrival
For their camp’s redemptive prayer
That should fortify John Sayer.
My parties have become pretty lean
Ever since onset of Covid nineteen
No more passing around fine liquor
drinking alone, in a hall of mirrors
A new reality from behind thin veils
Masks and gloves, my themed masquerade
Radio on ‘Move Closer’ gives me shivers
smooching alone, in a hall of mirrors
I’m a one man band, on my record player
Listening to the sole voice, of Leo Sayer
Drowning in misery, a beached orca killer
singing drunkenly, in a hall of mirrors
Switch on the TV, looking for distraction
Silent movie on, some guy named Chaplin
Enough charades, echoes growing dimmer
talking to myself, in a hall of mirrors.
Something catches the corner of my eye
A headline in a newspaper, lying nearby
Vaccine found, life’s suddenly less grimmer
Praying on my knees, to broken mirrors.
PARTY FOLK Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Julia Ward
28/12/2020
Poetry delights, incites, kicks and bites.
Poetry inspires, desires, speaks of liars.
Poetry dances, prances, takes big chances.
Poetry soothes, amuses, sometimes confuses.
Poetry speaks a sayer-of-sooth the absolute truth,
Poetry spins reader’s mind, shows another of her kind.
Poetry can make you friends, sometimes you wish it would not end.
Poetry is a bit of sass, sometimes worldly and first class.
Poetry, poetry, poetry, poetry, poetry, poetry.
Poetry is your name.
Therapy is your game.
Never stop, my love.
You were sent from above,
Poetry!
Immersed unprepared and unaware in the wrelm of torture, raised by the tormented and confused, told to smile while our cheeks are bruised, creating pariahs out of those who dare to say nay to the way of things ,how dare they not just sway with things while the sickest get away with things
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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.