In courts where lies weave their tails,
And justice seems a distant dream,
There lies the fate of souls confined,
By trials flawed and justice blind.
Florida, hear their muted cries,
Beneath the endless, azure skies,
Restore the truth, make wrongs undone,
Illuminate their moonless sun.
A second glance, a careful eye,
To see what justice might belie,
Review each case with earnest heart,
For fairness is a noble art.
For those who've suffered unjust pain,
Let fairness fall like cleansing rain,
And from these cells, set free the right,
To walk in liberty's pure blinding light.
seventy five years of Israeli destruct burning in Palestine
seventy five years of killing, Israel has invaded Palestine
A heavy rain wipes away the history of a pavement.
On a splashing surface it dashes off
an abstract and flowing script.
Watermarks thunder fleetingly
only to ricochets away
to stir the wordless with more fluid symbols.
I have seen rain write on mud,
moving punctuation marks around
with a drenching aplomb.
Symbols mix and meld
until an exclamation mark explodes
in a shower of meaningful spray.
I guess everything is a poem
as long as you don't call it one.
Writing is what the poem does
after it lands somewhere.
that there is always a price for
whatever is done every day
whatever has been done today
whatever will be done in the future
is often said
but unfortunately,
unknown
by whom and in what way
all will be paid
Secret eyes
hide behind a smile
the jokers grin
masking a deliberate betrayal
Misdirection and diversion
the covert sneak offender
working in the hush-hush
thinking the fooled
will never know any better
Trust the stiletto
when the lips are sealed
and silencing
is the fault of liars
when they are revealed
How the sleepless ballet
tip toes through the night
swirling in a caul
of suspected lies
but the eyes of deception
know full well the game of smiles
petulant tears
and angry retribution
Deceit engenders separation
the waltz of togetherness
never makes its connection
inside the embrace
something still remains hidden
and truth and deeds
form a treacherous liaison
and out of sight is out of mind
Who will ever know
who walks within the cloak-and-dagger
the perplexity of a tale-to-spin
and then fears the disclosures backhander
do you know
did you know
and panic will find a certain innocence
when lips become unsealed
communications with an uncertain reticence
but silence
is always the fault of liars
when they are revealed
The Fact(s)
It started with a poem.
Penned in by mistake.
Then it ended up in a letter,
that later turned into an email.
That was forwarded,
not once but a thousand,
and then ten million times.
Then someone was asked,
what it all meant.
They were floored by the fact,
no one knew.
But some did,
and some took action.
Some gathered,
while others spent.
Some prayed,
will others chose to laugh.
Respectful of no one,
nothing is as it was,
and the old have no bones,
left to gnaw.
Awaken the lazy child,
staying in the basement...
living on the meat sized portion,
of the daily bread,
at the discretion of their
own parents,
busy making a living,
before they die.
A level field of uncommon valor,
that has no heroism in it at all.
One no better the next,
cogs in the wheels...
of a larger machine.
Then broken and left,
beside the road,
rotting...
on their way,
to nowhere.
Life with love is full of miracle
without it appears to be not human
it is the love that makes a life dynamic.
Going for love is duty of every human
dutibound in love is lovely and dynamic
love is a quality of God and it is a miracle.
Love is a natural thing and makes one dynamic
it brings two near and it is a miracle
simple fact is that to be in love and be human.
Miracle of love thus makes one human and dynamic.
Dated-14.02.2019
Disrespectful people
Most often bombard you
With horrible things to say and actions
To harm you
Then try to entrap and annoy you
With wicked plots, scams and schemes
Then try to thoroughly destroy you
And your hopes, plans and dreams
Constantly causing you
Grief, pain & strife
As if you're not even a human being
And unworthy of life
But little do they know
You are about to get down
And turn their ugly perceptions of you
All around
They said you're nothing, you're worthless, you're a loser
That's sheer ignorance
The fact that you exist
Signifies your significance
Scientists have established the fact,
that all dinosaurs looked pretty the same,
Just some idiots- with lack of the luck,
Assembled them in the different ways!
It's not the way you look at me
Or how your hair blows in the breeze
It's not how you smile like a night on the town
Or the skip of my heart when you are around
It's not in the way that you beautifully dress
Although I am always beyond impressed
It's not any of those although they're nice
It's more of the fact that you are mine
It's not in the shine of your radiant glow
Or how to me your love is gently shown
It's not in the fact that you're all I need
Or the softness of touch when you hold me
It's not that you take my breath away
Or the way you make it all okay
It's not in any of those things I so often find
It's more of the fact that you are mine
POEM 14 THE FACT ABOUT LIFE
THIS IS A OLD WISE TRUE FACT ABOUT LIFE
EVERY ONE WANT YOU WHEN DOWN AND OUT
DON’T BE SURPRISE OF THE FRIENDS IT WILL BRING
WHEN YOU ARE UP, YOU ARE UP YOU WILL
BE TREATED LIKE A KING OR A QUEEN AS SUCH
WHEN YOU ARE DOWN THEY DO CARE
YOU WILL SEE JUST HOW MUCH.BUT
A FRIEND WILL ALWAYS BE
A FRIEND TILL THE VERY END.
BE WARE - BE WARE
EVERY SMILING FACE IS NOT
YOUR FRIEND !!“THAT IS “VERY” “VERY” “TRUE”!!!
BY: MR. JERRY BIG PAPA WELLS
Villanelle : Who rules what is or what’s not after the fact
Who rules what is or what’s not after the fact
The first poem struck wasn’t it a cry of hope
Words gushing from constricting throats militant act
Who must with calipers measure the creative act
Draws hot blood choking in dungeons where poets lost grope
Who rules what is or what’s not after the fact
Who lays the laws down robs the poem from the poet
Post-mortem never reveals how thoughts in body cope
Words gushing from constricting throats militant act
Words feel through emotions un-thought by Eliot
Though Bousono makes poets mindless on tight rope
Who rules what is or what’s not after the fact
Words at random plucked by the senses speak with tact
Not so Essay on Man by Alexander Pope
Words gushing from constricting throats militant act
Songs of joy set to music in dance speak not slack
No Aristotle could glean rules where poets dumb mope
Who rules what is or what’s not after the fact
Words gushing from constricting throats militant act
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2016
Am bent over making a deep impression.
From the sweetness of my sweet expression.
Am contained over painting in your heart my dear inscription.
I am exhausting my thoughts that you may get a clear description.
In your very eyes i see the source of my inspiration.
I am compelled to confess I LOVE YOU for real beyond imagination.
air does not reply
air does not supply
air does not react
air states not one fact
what air does actually do
is force me to get a clue
next time God Sprinkles me with that Rare Specialty
i will treat such a Blessing as a Rare Gem and not allow that icy fear to successfully wrestle me.....
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.