Tag: rhyme

Thought Nazi’s, Poetry by Benzuko

It pays well to be scared, it’s easy to make enemies when your thoughts are shared. Just one wrong word and everyone will see, the true price you pay for wanting to be free. Most of the haters are only in it for their careers, pretending to be hurt and lying about their fears.

Genres: Dark, Social Philosophy, controversy, Rhyme

Thought Nazi’s

It pays well to be scared, it’s easy to make enemies when your thoughts are shared. Just one wrong word and everyone will see, the true price you pay for wanting to be free. Most of the haters are only in it for their careers, pretending to be hurt and lying about their fears. When you stand against the mob you’re a hero without a cape, meanwhile the feminists conspire and accuse all men of rape. You are a harasser now locked up with no key, the feminists are in control and always will be. Our message must be clear to the heads of Twitter, the thought Nazi’s will not stop until all opinions are one sided and bitter.

By Benzuko

Twitter @Benzuko

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She’s a man, Poetry by Bryan Chan

Unloving and unnurturing,

A woman without a woman’s touch,

Potential mother but then again, not very much

Limited by her ideals, faminism?

No, supremanism

Domination is all she seeks to clutch.

Genre: Love, Heartbreak, Rhyme, Relationship

She’s a man, by Bryan Chan

 

With trashy ideology and principles,

Her words are bland and hollow,

Mindless substance which have been borrowed.

 

Unloving and unnurturing,

A woman without a woman’s touch,

Potential mother but then again, not very much

Limited by her ideals, faminism?

No, supremanism

Domination is all she seeks to clutch.

 

The personality of a wall,

Cold and hard,

not very far from her standards,

white-washed and scrawny,

Crumbling and sickly,

Thinks herself high and mighty,

But in reality,

She is far from great,

The chinese have made far better gates.

 

She inspires love and passion,

But so do pies,

And cakes,

Not to mention chocolates,

But hers is a poison one cannot negate,

It is mistaken love,

Lest should I think it fate,

She leaves a rush of resentment,

An after taste of hate.

 

 

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Hustlin’ Fo’ Love by Jai FromDaWay

I stay nickel, dime and dubbin’
Caressin’, Kissin’ and Huggin’
A penny fo’ ya thoughts but what’s
the price fo’ ya lovin’?
To me you’re priceless and worth
all the strugglin’

Genre: Street Poetry

 

 

I stay nickel, dime and dubbin’
Caressin’, Kissin’ and Huggin’
A penny fo’ ya thoughts but what’s
the price fo’ ya lovin’?
To me you’re priceless and worth
all the strugglin’
Trying to flip like to love
I’m emotionally hustlin’
I got roses, long walks and romantic talk
all bundled up.
I’m slingin’ quality time fo’ cheap
I’m trying to double up.
I’m on the grind, O.T., and you be the re-up.
I’m pullin’ all-nighters.
Just hit me…I’ll be up.
If lovin’ you is a crime, then I’m taking the plea.
The charge is hustlin’ fo’ your love and I plead guilty!

 

 

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A Brief Encounter, Poetry by H. Alahmad

It was cloudy

And the thunder was rowdy

Suddenly an angel descended from heaven

And called me at eleven

Genre: Love, Rhyme, Romance

A Brief Encounter by H. Alahmad

 

It was cloudy

And the thunder was rowdy

Suddenly an angel descended from heaven

And called me at eleven

 

We met at a place of festivity

I felt I am outside the bounds of gravity

I wanted to fly

High in the sky

 

She said buy me a lollipop

And take me to a bookshop

 

If I liked books before

Today I adore them more than my Porsche four by four

Because they will testify that my encounter was real

Although it was surreal

 

My angel was gorgeous

Like a rose from Damascus

She has beautiful eyelashes

Those convert the heart into ashes

 

She was so white

And her teeth were so bright

Her voice was like music to my ears

But it brought to my eyes tears

When she said I have to go

It was like the end of the show

 

I wanted time to freeze

I kept saying please please please

But time had no mercy on me

And refused my plea

 

Time has a heart made of stone

And refused to give me a loan

All I wanted is one extra minute

But I was unfortunate

 

The books were crying

And words were dying

When she said bye

And ascended high

 

I wish I was shot

And buried on that spot

The books will be my coffin

And words will be my next of kin

 

It was a brief encounter

It was a brief encounter

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My Estranged Wife, Poetry by Nnamdi Wabara

Janet’s mouth is too bitter!
Worse than bitter leaf soup,
prepared by impatient spinsters, who find it hard,
to recoup the love and care of older sisters.

Genre: Relationship, Rhyme, People
My Estranged Wife by Nnamdi Wabara

Janet’s mouth is too bitter!
Worse than bitter leaf soup,
prepared by impatient spinsters, who find it hard,
to recoup the love and care of older sisters.

Janet’s mouth is too bitter!
Worse than the dogonyaro leaf,
administered in times of illness. The fear of which cures
I believe, the young lad than its potency.

Janet’s mouth is too bitter!
That i wonder if it’s the same lips,
i kissed on that day, with so much relish.
Singles looking on, in their eyes a wish.

Oh, Janet’s mouth is far too bitter!
That to avoid the venom in her spittle;
I make my way, to lay in the chickens’ litter.
There, there’s peace at least a little.

Nnamdi Wabara 2002
http://www.newerthots.blogspot.com

 

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GHOST, Poetry by Dheric Da Poet

They claimed I was there.
They claimed I was seen.
They claimed I belonged.
They claimed I was needed.
They claimed.

Genre: Rhyme, Spiritual, Fantasy

GHOST by Dheric Da Poet

They claimed I was there.
They claimed I was seen.
They claimed I belonged.
They claimed I was needed.
They claimed.

So as they turned my significance on and off,
I pretended day and night were passing by.
And as they hid me under my own shadow to rot,
I wondered. Why did I die?

They passed through my accomplishments as though I never existed.
Never heard me when I spoke.
Never saw me when I appeared.
Never paid attention to who I really was.

Hmm —–
So I stood before them as they deceitfully read a tribute to me.
They cried with utmost care for their make-up, not me.
They wore their black on their party clothes and —-
Not me.

So I am a ghost.
One who is never seen,
Never heard,
And never spoken to.

I see,
I hear,
I speak.

The way of the ghost is never understood because it’s never noticed.

The troubles of the world never get to me.
Only the heat does.

I am the ghost of all times.
I am —–

#Dheric_Da_Poet
All rights secretly reserved.
2016

 

 

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EVERYDAY MASKS, Poetry by DHERIC Da Poet

Sometimes blue
Sometimes shaded
Sometimes painted
Sometimes faded
Other times you just can’t state the state of your mask.

Genre: Rhyme, People, Life

EVERYDAY MASKS
by DHERIC Da Poet

Sometimes blue
Sometimes shaded
Sometimes painted
Sometimes faded
Other times you just can’t state the state of your mask.

We put on new faces
When new phases appear.
Our smiles alone
Could take the sorrow off one’s tear.

Yet,
Deep down, our souls yearn for joy.
Regretting what our past once destroyed.

Sometimes, deliberate.
Other times, not;
We change the masks so quickly, we forget who we really are.

Our faces become new to us.
Our purpose eludes us: Our path becomes strange.
That’s the point we start believing our own lies.

FB: http://facebook.com/ghpoetry/
IG: thePoet_Dheric
Twitter: @SonOfGod_Saved

 

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1918…Sanctuary, Poetry by Terry Hopper

For as I lay in your embrace,
My breath be shallow..heart doth race,
The trench ,the bugle ,the distant drum ,
Fight for country…defeat the Hun,
So protected in your cocoon,
Daybreak looming behind the moon,
Sleep it cowers and it creeps,

Genre: Rhyme, War, Society

1918…Sanctuary by Terry Hopper

For as I lay in your embrace,
 My breath be shallow..heart doth race,
 The trench ,the bugle ,the distant drum ,
Fight for country…defeat the Hun,
So protected in your cocoon,
Daybreak looming behind the moon,
 Sleep it cowers and it creeps,
 Tears of mine ..i gently weep,
Not tonight …well not for me,
Safe and sound for that I be,
The dark …its cold …a killers friend ,
The night flame flickers ..bows and bends,
 The shadows dance to a pipers tune,
As we did …that day in June,
 The day I marched..with head held high,
For king and country ..live or die,
Young men together … comrades in fear,
Maidens calling hip hip three cheers,
The front …the gas ..ahead barbwire,
The stink ..the stench of gods hell fire,
 Bully beef …and rationed stew,
.Last letters home from me to you,
 Dearest sweetheart …love of my life,
Dearest mother …precious wife,
Signing off with yours devoted,
All my love and sugar coated,
Kisses sent ….a thousand score,
Each one delivered when at your door,
Just let me live please god I pray,
To see my love ..just one more day,
 So here we lay …safe and sound,
Hearts entwined …emotions bound ,
And as the eve does turn to light ,
My candle salutes…. its last goodnight.

Terry Hopper 2015
Copy write

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Sing Anew, O Freedom, Poetry by Jonathan Baltzly

O, hark! Let Freedom sing

Of times anew, times to be

Of days forgotten, days lost

O, see her embark, taking wing

Genre: Rhyme, Political, People, Society

Sing Anew, O Freedom
by Jonathan Baltzly

O, hark! Let Freedom sing

Of times anew, times to be

Of days forgotten, days lost

O, see her embark, taking wing

Flying upon all that lives

“Joy!” She exclaims!

Dark clouds near, now disappear

Light shines in heaven

Let the earth be illuminated!

Freedom and Justice, her friend

Liberty her companion

And more gather in the skies

To sing a new, yet familiar tune.

She is not satisfied,

For Mankind has abandoned Truth,

Her closest confidant.

O, hark! She sheds tears as diamonds.

Joy continues to be silent to her cry

Happiness left the land long ago,

But has promised to return.

“O, Love! You abound in hearts and minds

Perhaps Hope will heal Mankind.”

She sighs again, with Liberty at her side

Patience shows her face;

She is followed by Grace,

And finally Strength,

The legend that trampled Evil to its grave.

Strength lifted up her voice

“O, hark! Today is the day!

Let us join once more

We may face War,

We will serve with Honor,

We will uphold Peace,

And Joy will follow in our wake.”

Freedom stood, looking to the North

“Verily, Strength has proclaimed

And lamented words heard before,

From the voice of Truth itself.”

Thus was the resurrection of Truth,

And it came forth

From the heights and depths

To reclaim its rightful place.

 

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The Writers Curse, Poetry by Ganzart

The writers curse
Tagging around like a lady’s purse

Set to always sail on the seas of fiction
continuously sipping of self-deception
Alone is the crew on the ship of imagination

Genre: Rhyme, Artist

The Writers Curse by Ganzart

The writers curse
Tagging around like a lady’s purse

Set to always sail on the seas of fiction
continuously sipping of self-deception
Alone is the crew on the ship of imagination

Hands chained by the illusions of his mind
Bound to always fall for the “one of a kind”
Yet in his pocket lies the key to the solution he never finds

In his greatest fear lies his wealth n treasure
The power of his words he still can’t measure
And their inevitable outcomes pain or pleasure

sinking deeply in the beauty of art
If wishes were horses , carved on the walls of his heart .
You can’t help the tearing apart
When the pen and paper have to part.

The sweet seas of fantasy
were all just a mistress
That sour cold reality
Is the jealous wife in he kisses.

The writers curse
Another blessing in disguise
Read between the lines
And look through water aiming for the skies
And find God present in his verse.

The writers curse , impossible to reverse

Ganzart

 

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