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Best Poems Written by Gem Stone

Below are the all-time best Gem Stone poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Gem Stone Poem

The Organized Crime Rhyme

In the 1920's labor had fights
Employers hired toughs, both sides ignored rights
Unions hired the Mafia, thought they’d be strong
The tactic was effective, but unwise and wrong.

The Mafia knew that beggars can’t choose
They made an offer the unions could not refuse
Took over, raided wages, extorted the boss
They made the gain, the workers the loss

In Mexico, cartels own a third of the land
Don’t run for office, you might die by their hand
In Russia and China, rulers solidify Mafia ties
Crime helps rulers, and liberty dies.

Cash for the ruthless, recently in the news
Iran paid European Mafias to kill Europe’s Jews
There's no stopping the wicked, they endlessly reach
These warning verses are but a stone on a beach

Your profile may be low, so you see no cause to arm
But get in their way, and then comes the harm
To take an example, I read this to my alarm
Not far from me, Hudson valley, bodies hidden in a farm.

Any tech that helps, bad guys seize the chance.
Like a drug that puts victims in a spellbound trance
That drug:  'devil's breath', will severely confuse.
So it and other drugs Columbia Mafia’s use

From the danger buffet, you can take your pick
Bad guys don't have to kill, they can make you sick
Harmful drugs aerosolized, blown to a face
Your life derailed, a crime with no trace.

So, the picture is this
Governments and Mafias give each other a kiss
Technology for both, that can control you
What a brave new world, nothing we can do.

Details | Gem Stone Poem

Library High

I met an old man in Atlantic City, in a library by the shore  
Through the glass, the ocean shimmered, he couldn't ask for more  
He said he'd been retired since his wife had passed away  
His kids scattered across the land, it was hard to fill the day  

He spoke about Dobbs Ferry library, there sunset paints the sky  
From balconies he watches as the Hudson drifts on by  
Outside the Hudson Highlands library, a castle on the height  
Inside, portraits, paneled wood, and windows with golden light.  

[Chorus]
So he goes from town to town, in libraries he finds  
So many worlds to enter, and peace to ease his mind
He explores the future and the past, the stories don't grow old   
But me, I watch the TV sitcoms, letting time unfold  
 
He liked the New Haven library, where the homeless sometimes sleep  
The librarian wakes them gently, though it makes her heart weep  
He's been to New York's grand palace, with lions at the gate  
In Greenburgh a local sang Western songs, folks danced, it was great  

[Chorus]
So he goes from town to town, in libraries he finds  
Echoes of a world gone by, and peace to ease his mind  
Myself, I watch old action movies, but suspense won't take a hold  
Sometimes I feel lost, sometimes I feel cold. 

[Bridge]
The Detroit Public Library gave him a pleasant surprise  
The city has seen better days, but that place deserves a prize  
Built with Vermont marble, Italian trim, a building meant to last
In front a River of Knowledge Mosaic that connects us with the past

I felt a bit of sorrow, his hobby made me fret  
I said, "In Atlantic City, there's excitement you can get"  
"Come with me," I told him, "There's a place that we can go"  
He smiled and said, "No thank you, son, I'd rather take it slow"  

[Chorus]
So he goes from town to town, in libraries he finds  
So many worlds to enter, and peace to ease his mind  
While I sit and watch the reruns, letting time pass by
He finds the temples of the past, a learning kind of high.

He said "I'll stay in these cathedrals of what we used to be  
To each his own, before birds flown, on priorities we disagree"  
He turned back to his book again, beneath the painted dome  
And in that silent moment, I knew he'd found a home.

Details | Gem Stone Poem

Amish, Hasids, and Mormons

A madman pushed me off the track, lucky not much harm
I sat in the Hospital waiting room with just a broken arm.
They handed me a form to fill, 20 genders, 10 types of race -
I tore the sheet with my good arm and walked out of that place.

I walked past a park, a man dropped a syringe, gave me a stare
I walked past a crazy woman preaching to the air.
I walked past teens speaking to their phones but not each other.
Saw expressions I couldn’t read - an enemy or a brother?

I remembered the in-crowd whose moral sight was blind
I wanted to leave their dubious fads behind
I walked past the demonstrators, their justice leads to blood:
We may need a Noah's ark from the oncoming flood.

I walked along the Palisades, the river on my right.
I perked up because the old roads, the boat basins came in sight.
I jogged on the Long Path, crossing Bergen County, then Rockland too.
Turned inland and ended up in a children's petting zoo.

There were the black hats - Jews of a Hasidic sect.
I spoke with one woman; she looked at me with undeserved respect.
It was a change from the jaded people I often met
Wondered what the secret was, is a religious way correct?

Those Jews might not surf the internet, they might not watch TV.
And when they move en masse into a town they spark animosity.
But what struck me there was something clean and true.
As she pointed out the exotics in that petting zoo.

Since then I've been to Lancaster, where the Amish live an older way
That lifestyle has its drawbacks too, there are always shades of gray.
I've visited Salt Lake, where Mormons spurn drugs for recreation
A visitor described them as the handsomest in the nation. 

I like my way of life, but other ways make me think
Do we really need social media, or drugs, an evening drink?
Would we be better people, if some things we didn't know?
Should we stand against the current, or go with culture's flow?

Do we really need the likes, the scroll that never ends?  
Can we stop and read a while, or try to make real friends?
Can we set anchor in a place where lies don’t get through?
Can we cure our sick republic, retain what’s proven true?

Details | Gem Stone Poem

Live like a Jackal, Die like a dog

Hear the flames crackle
Fall on your sword  
Live like a Jackal  
Die like a dog  

The lion is weary
Hyenas dart and bite
Their laughing is eerie
He'll lose his last fight.

The vultures are circling
Eyes that see far 
Their shadow is on you
Wherever you are.

Betrayal was easy
You were attracted to strife 
You gambled with demons  
And wagered my life  

Now dust claims your legend
You can't make it whole 
May hell give you welcome  
for you the bell tolls

So hear the flames crackle  
No lion saves you now  
Live like a Jackal  
Die like a dog

Details | Gem Stone Poem

Opa Rolf and Compressed Time

Rolf was born in Wallertheim, in an optimistic year
Progress seemed to be everywhere, and not much to fear.
Then the reds took Russia, shook the world to the core
Millions killed when in power, a crime you can’t ignore

Drafted in World War One, every moment was a scare
French came at him in bright red uniforms, too visible, wasn’t fair
He claims he didn’t kill anyone; I wish I could believe
He was on the wrong side of that war, a past you can’t retrieve.

Under Weimar, the dollar was worth 4000 trillion marks 
That kind of inflation destroys society, opens it to sharks.
Nazis got into power, took guns from all the Jews
Rolf threw his weapon in the Rhine, and his medals too.

He left grape vines behind, took his family out, down to the wire
They rode through Palestine, saw Jewish farms set on fire.
Then a letter came from the Reich, called Rolf to the reserve
We still have it, bureaucratic time lag, an ironic reminder to serve.

If Rolf had gone back, he would have been doomed 
Into the maw of the gigantic bloodshed one more life consumed.

I met Rolf in Denver, a short, muscular guy
He even flipped me on my back, with a Judo move I didn’t spy.
I watched a rodeo with him, history was in arrest.
It's a strange thing, in one man, so much time compressed

I spoke with a great-aunt who had uncles in the Civil War
A great uncle told me he saw soldiers marching to fight the Boer.
He also fought in World War One, but on the English side
Showed me wounds in his arm, to fight was part of pride.

And now I use ChatGPT, and admire Space X
In me through memories so much history connects.
And yet I’m the black sheep, so many things went bad
I’m relieved these men never knew my saga, so dismal, and so sad.

I also look at the world, there is so much bad news:
Jihad in Africa, and in Holland a “hunt for the Jews”
China, Russia on the rise, the west has seen better days
Will we end that compressed window of history in a fiery blaze?

Details | Gem Stone Poem

Because they hate

Paulo was Brazil’s most popular journalist, but the left did pursue
He told an American interviewer that the left there "hates you"
I found this a puzzle, I asked why, what did we do?
But hate has odd wellsprings, and I still have no clue.

Brigitte Gabriel lived in a pretty Lebanon town with a hilltop breeze
There were school plays, and churches, gardens and fruit trees
It was Christian then, Moslems next, Holy war came as fate
She wrote a book about what she learned, called "Because They Hate"

You might wonder why the title isn't WHY they hate?
But hate has its own logic, and the reasoning isn't straight
I learned some of this logic too, it has its own rules
You don't learn them in Hollywood, or in the schools.

The first rule is that weakness invites attack
You get friends in odd places, others stab your back
Second, the more baddies hurt you, they want to hurt you more
If you've already hit bottom you might ask what for?

Third if you end up acting the way they force
They even punish you for that, though they were the source
The victim argument of "what did I do to you"
Doesn't work at all, even when its true.

All this seems irrational, but some people produce hate
The way waterfalls turn turbines, and power generate
I read of one U.S. woman kidnapped, led in chains by evil men
She asked why, was told "because we hate you", same puzzle again.

I do believe there's a reason for everything
In some people a distorted brain is the bubbling spring
In others perhaps an ideology some fool did start
Maybe a moral divide in every heart.

Details | Gem Stone Poem

East River Esplanade

We emerged from Grand Central Station, 
Both ill, alarmed at our situation
Like two invaders, erupting forth
My twin went south, and I went North
I jaywalked reckless nearly hit by a car.
Then saw a bridge over the FDR

I wondered what price would be paid 
On autopilot, I came on to the Esplanade
The pavement was wide, hexagonal tiled
The water was brilliant, turbulent wild
It mixed and whirled, restless and free
Yet ever drawn toward the devouring sea.

I got to the hospital, there was a nurse
She asked me questions from bad to worse
She seemed to have heard of my bad reputation
Briefly, I dreamt of Grand Central Station.
Then she asked me if I thought of self-harm
I said no, hoped she wouldn't push the alarm.

The doctor came, showed me the MRI
He flipped the sections, from my brain to my eye
We discussed options, if benign and if not
The biopsy would need x-rays to guide it to the spot
the tumor showed white, by the salivary gland
I turned white too, but stayed in command
  
Then I walked back, on the esplanade
Thinking life isn't fair, the price never paid
Was this all set in motion, when I made past mistakes?
Should I be angry or was it just the breaks?
Act of nature?  Act of men? Either way
Life's river flows on, from the stream to the bay.

Details | Gem Stone Poem

Buffalo City

He took a plane to Rapid City
Hoped the bike trip would be pretty
Took a cab to where the trail began—
He had the spark of a younger man.

Next day he cycled on the Mickelson Trail
Though he knew he was in a moving jail
Higher ups told us he must be kept down
If left alone, he'd gain a crown.

It wasn't fair that he be free
Breathing pure air, loving scenery
He had dissed our people, defied our creed
His attitude offended, more than his deed

We tracked him down, he had to fail
No free pass on the Mickelson Trail
No free bird, flying into the sky
We clip the wings of those who defy.

He got to a valley so pretty and green
I looked at his joy, I felt it obscene
In Buffalo land, I brought him low 
No escaping our rules, no letting go.

Know that webs exist of every kind
You don't see the cords, but still they bind
Trip a wire, that's it for you
They don't care for your excuses, you can't argue

The cops won’t shield you, won’t take your side,
Your story ignored, or your story denied.
You’ve crossed a border few understand—
You're hunted now in Mafia Land.

There was a fellow with a note pinned to his chest
He lay in the street, the knife through his vest
He had offended a religion, but others die too
like a reporter who exposed crimes ugly but true.

So keep your head down, and try to conform
There are penalties if you stray from the norm
You walk a shaky bridge over a steep drop
Don't expect a parachute, not an angel, not a cop.

Details | Gem Stone Poem

She gambled

She gambled on you
She walked a bridge too far  
You didn't feel it true
It was too high a bar

She could have tried talking
That way she would've known
Behind your infatuation
Real affection hadn't grown

She thought there was a bond  
A mystical dream  
But the wizard lost his wand 
You were just a prop in the scene 

She dreamed of a fire  
You by her side
But love was a liar
Reason should guide.

She raised the stake
But gambling's a sin
with two eyes on the snake
The house has to win

Now it’s too late  
To rewrite the part  
She wagered on fate—  
Then embittered her heart 

I know we all get burnt
But I wish it hadn't gone so far
Lessons have to be learnt
Only Fate held the cards.

Details | Gem Stone Poem

Two faced science

I trusted all doctors, thought they know best
So many years learning, a noble quest
They want to do well by helping you
But from any kind of knowledge, evil can brew.

Scott was a dentist, a noble career
But to ethical rules he did not adhere
If you sat in his chair, he'd put a crown on your tooth
Insurers paid him millions, didn't ask for proof.

Babies kept dying under Lucy's care
She was idealistic in school but got on a tear
Murdered 7 babies, the motives appall
But nurses are human, and humans can fall.

I could also mention fraud in Medicare
100 billion a year, the criminal share
Some docs think a short cut to money is worth
After all, they too have limited time on this earth.

In Nazi-land doctors reasoned that since Jews had to die 
Why not do twin experiments, in my mind those kids cry
The docs were curing society of an enemy disease
Against indoctrination, no way to appease.

I was drugged with sex drugs, medical knowledge used for bad
Docs told me such drugs exist, but thought I was mad
I said drugs could be sprayed through the air, made things worse
It was all true, but a hard sell, and an ongoing curse.

Some thought me handsome, the good looks faded
My short-term memory tanked as sleep blockaded
All sorts of damage victims could not have a clue
They can reach into your brain, without touching you.

Before thinking me mad, look up "drugs as aerosols"
An open mind's better than one closed by walls.
Don't leave the many victims, across the fruited plain
Forever unprotected because this story sounds insane.