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Best Poems Written by Dave Archuletta

Below are the all-time best Dave Archuletta poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Sadness Is a Visable Spoken Word

"Oh, hear me chiefs, for I am tired and with a sick and sad heart, and from where the sun now stands I will fight no more forever!" - Chief Joseph of the Nez Pierce

The time in which these words were spoken, surely must've been a mournful day; a day showing to each of these Native Americans as a passing marked of great sadness, a sadness unique to each perspective - an end-view of a Peoples reaching eyes, ...eyes found looking back at their ancestral homeland, each having taken in this sight with great beholding, ... as if the imminent future had left out on an open grassy plain, a thousand souls in wait for final sharing of a night's thoughts under a Northen Lights glow. Sadly, for some, the last capture of a memory, this running beauty to its hold would ever show.

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An Uncanny Truth

A few also rented words by David Archuletta:
"A Writing style technique that hides with an evasiveness, while still long steeped in confusion."

The above Copyrighted and Trademarked sentence shouts of compound meaning. Both of which, represent two distinct thought processes commonly associated with New Jersey Infant adoption. The implied double meaning is hidden within the pages of a very useful, but now rarely viewed, 'Thesaurus for Writers of Adoption Law.' This could only lead to trouble? This book's use was covert, and being doubled as a former Human Services Handbook for Adoption Agency Sociological Entailments; is one now long out of print and reputedly not be made available anytime soon. Why? Because the information obviously shows flawed to benefit the Social Worker who sidles along with the manuscript's overall intent. Therefore, non-effectively its pages would still retain "Smoking Guns" that could only enlighten those who don't agree with current adoption law.

Incriminating printed words as they would stand, should a copy of this book ever surface, throughout the found confusion, definition of someone's compiled written material would read as if given were directions instead of a meaning:
"To convolute a sentence or phrase with rented ten-dollar words! Words, each inherently compounded more complex by the inevitable forthcoming next. A repugnance from which, can only evoke thoughts of penned pretentiousness brought about to leave one confounded and/or deceived - even before the meaning of each read objectively."
The above description should've allowed anybody more than enough time to realize that a final comprehension of this page is needed to bring about sociological change.
Therefore, if knowing "words" will stand as a barometer to cause, such prerequisite of learned ability will be very helpful if one decides to join either rank with the purchase of this novel of expose`. That said, if everyone can get through this prologue without the use of said "Lost Thesaurus," they just might possess knowledge on how to lure others out from under the trappings of all Dark Sides of Closed Adoption. As it may, you might even lead these blind victims who practice under works of others within the mind-mesmerizing, mired-in-the-mix of words that have, since 1998 became statute adoption law in this State that we call New Jersey!
The above written words for hire, will never come glued in such manner again.

Details | Dave Archuletta Poem

The Humanity In Adoption a Transparency In Godliness

The Godliness of Adoption is...
Or is it not?
…A beautiful spring sprung floret of rose. A rose brought home from humanity's colorful garden of trust? Yet, it was not all that long ago when each cut stem, entrusted to its own gardener's worthy and caring hands?

Hands, now too soon stripped and emptied. Hands that were easily led astray by the coersions of now self-appointed zealots. They, with hands marked with ever stained bloody thorn pricked fingers, which now present each torn stem of rose on heaven-like sent pedestals; until met is a king's ransom; these thirty pieces of silver, being the ask of many an angelic bible-toting broker.

Adoption is...
Or is it not?
...An act next to Godliness when these disguised angels are loosed to search in the mist of this motherland? They, the finders of our pink and blue hued overflow spillage of souls.

This is the nature of guised humanity. Delicately does it assist society in the dredge of waiting collection ponds, pools of tears that gleamingly mirror you and I; and from where our memory should fill with sounds. The siren-like cries of which, now link with our distantly lost... ...or coldly disengage us of our not of want…

Adoption is...
Or is it not?
...The beautiful water lilys of pond? Those that so serenely float above an ever skimming conscience that is this God-fearing couple; a polarized complacency so sweetly lost amidst its own mesmerizing shimmer. They, fooled without inkling of shame. An innocence of eyes that fail to see transparency by such weakly given puruse. A view that cannot pierce the murkily veiled mire that hides just below its own watery reflection...
...And where underneath trails this tangled web that will soon unravel in route to tie with each long waited conscience…

Adoption is it or is it not our "Humanities with Consequence"?

New Jersey Identified Adoption shown as an open door will always yield to truth left on the threshold.

Details | Dave Archuletta Poem

Insomnia, Like Water Drip Torture

It is of this innate malady of a right or wrong state of concienscious mind to which, 
its affiction does not choose
It is the passage of time that hangs on the wall as if for the innocent man who is 
waiting for his corresponding noose...

Insomnia is yesterday that melds into our morning’s way
It hangs on our hearts by the minute like hours 
Only to leave each and every second spent ticking in meaningless shades of gray

Nothing is clear
Yet, it is crystal 
Belonged is god's given insight of night and day

Insomnia is a world without seams
A world without color
To not dream of past dreamt dreams is to live without these divine means

It is only to wake from sleep, that memories abound with the sunny morning’s bring
That life retains worth, and only unfurls, 
...when we hear Harper Lee’s Mocking bird sing

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The Waiting

What would you say?
Of these passing days spent in tears
Of distant hopes that have only faded blue thru the years

What would you say? 
Of dreamt dreams colored in dread
Of tiny hearts growing black save for the red

What would you say?
Of jaded eyes which now can only view truths so sheer
Toward a light that shouts but one can never hear

What would you say? If I’m neither here nor there

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Ahh, the Universe

It is by whatever mankind has learned to be true from our shown universe, an acknowledgment of such, - most assuredly comes only through his contemporaries previously noted and numerous scientific failures. Likewise then, the same shall stand for those who continually seek to question what powers the Word of God, providence will show more than a certain probability, - the recorded measure of their lacked faith and eventual pitching of soul into the Valley of Gehenna - long forgotten by life!

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A Canned Hill of Beans

Pursuing wealth can be a double edged sword to those who blindly seek riches without its own set of principled means.
The capable with excesses to bleed these riches and still not see these riches are not necessarily plighted with an indoctrinated greed
But essentially, they are those who have chosen to live life well enlightened and yet sighted far within their own hill of beans.

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Do It Now, Drop a Dime On Someone

Upon anybody's death it is said that to have meant well is the content of many promises never made only forever kept

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Those Forgot

It is whatever mankind has learned true from our shown universe, an acknowledgment of such, - comes only through his contemporaries previous numerous scientific failures. Likewise then, the same shall stand for those who continually seek to question what powers the Word of God, providence will show more than a certain probability, - the recorded measure of their faith and eventual pitching into the Valley of Gehenna - long forgotten in death!