Category: Poetic Cues

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Racism Isn’t A Joke (Poem)

Racism is a funny word,

Isn’t it?

We don’t understand it, yet make fun of it.

We don’t understand the impact of our words,

We shout out with nothing 

But laughter in our voice.

We got comedy shows 

And crowds that haul,

At nothing but skin on our bones.

Yet we make fun, 

And mistreat, 

And ridicule, 

Yet we don’t consider, 

We’re all humans 

Simply looking for peace.

In a world where we create war,

And tragedies 

Through nothing but skin on our bones.

In a world where we belittle,

For nothing but ancestry and lore.

Yet the wise ones will hear, 

And consider.

The fools will reject, 

And not consider the mess,

That they create, 

Through words and beating, 

Inferiority and bets. 

We don’t consider, 

The lives in this tangled web.

The profound impact,

It has,

With families, and friends.

Let’s take this word seriously, 

And not laugh like the rest.  

Racism isn’t a joke, 

We’re dealing with people 

With feelings, 

Who simply want acceptance.

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The Meaning of Poetry (Poem)

Poetry is a voice, 

A seemingly once troubled mind

Who found peace

In the midst of chaos, 

Wanting to share his gift to the world.

Once fascinated by his thoughts,

He could not stop them, 

Until he put them on paper

And declared what he knew.

Poetry is an emotion 

Deep within ourselves 

Trying to find rest 

Through words and wisdom 

Combined for entertainment.

Let’s not forget, 

The core of poetry, 

With making something sound so beautiful,

But empty.

For beautiful words doesn’t change the world,

But poetry does, 

With a meaningful, and lasting word.

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Contrast and Opposites (Poem)

For without darkness,

There cannot be light. 

Without failure,

There cannot be success.

Without trials,

There cannot be patience.

Without contrast, 

There cannot be a humanity.

Without challenges,

There cannot be triumph.

For the world exists

Where opposites work together.

To create a world 

Of correlation

An extension of each other. 

To create change, 

And a peaceful nation.

Where we all strive for greatness.

  

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Your True Source is You (Poem)

We live our lives,

Depending on others,

To make us happy,

Because deep down,

We feel scared and frail,

And need approval,

From other souls.

We search for approval,

Through everyone but we,

Because the moment

Someone values what,

We cannot conceive,

We want more,

To escape the longing,

Inside our soul.

The longing becomes unbearable,

Each time we need approval,

We seek outside ourselves,

To bring only, what we can.

We don’t get to the source,

Which is our soul,

If we simply listen,

The answer is within,

The essential calling,

Of our soul.

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The Road to Mastery (Poem)

Through trial and error,

We tough the storm.

The wind blows against our soul,

In this illusionary world.

We don’t understand life,

As we squeeze tight

To be right.

The ideas, that once worked,

Are now expired,

In this illusionary world.

Through trial and error,

We make our stance,

Declare what we know.

The wind blows beneath our feet,

And shakes us deep.

We declare our wants,

More comes against us.

As we make our stance,

And are now sturdy,

In this illusionary world.

Through trial and error,

The wind doesn’t shake us.

As we learn through leaping forward,

Through the laws that govern us all.

The wind remains beneath our feet,

As we make our stance,

In this illusionary world.

Through trial and error,

We stand up straight.

Firm, unwavering, ready to play.

As we acknowledge our ways,

In this created reality,

Where we declare out loud,

And write the script.

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Patience Where Wisdom lies (Poem)

Patience.

As it remains and escapes,

Through the process of trial and error,

Where wisdom lies.

An underestimating emotion,

We cannot stand.

Though uneasy at first,

Inner peace lies.

Patience.

Being steadfast and firm,

Though contradictions spies,

In a world of its own,

Of wisdom and lies.

Patience.

Though uneasy and flat,

Indecisive and black,

Contemplating time and elation,

Like a fiery trial.

Patience.

Though treacherous at first,

If we simply pull through,

Wisdom lies.

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An Angel Ignited my Path (Poem)

When the rock struck me sideways,

Lying face down,

Confused and afraid,

Couldn’t see the daylight.

Dazzled as to where to leap,

Or where to turn,

In my confused altered mind.

But you stood amongst it,

Never blamed,

Nor question,

My reason for being.

Falls, turns and detours

I sympathize the whys,

The reasons for my trial.

Drifting through the motions,

On autopilot senseless,

In utter despair. 

You stood amongst it,

And saw potential, 

When all I saw was judgment,

In my own eyes.

The future was pale,

My intentions scattered,

Through the wall,

With Uncertainties and doubts,

Filling my mind.

As I try to escape my thoughts,

Uncertain,

Of what path may be.

You never relinquished, 

Or ceased to be,

Your very best to me.

Though the time has passed,

And those days didn’t last,

The push served me greatly, 

The rest was history, 

Of my own making.

And I’ll never forget, 

When I’m old and wrinkly, 

An angel from God,

Ignited my path, 

And never ceased to be,

Her very best to me.

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Way Back Home (Poem)

We start on the journey,

Fired up with faith,

Telling ourselves all types of things,

To stay in the game.

Declaring out loud,

We’ll never turn back,

We’re victors and not quitters,

Among the pact.

Then adversities come,

Knocking at the door,

Demanding to give in,

And forget what we know.

Everything can be a mystery,

And a puzzle,

In a deep world,

Of right or wrong.

We grapple with peace,

In a world of love and hate,

Our perspective is damaged,

As we march along in rage.

Let’s lose the self sabotaging lens,

Receive the divine,

And remember our core.

It’s a journey,

Of trial and error,

As we follow our soul.

Intuition and choices,

Delays and detours,

All leading back

To God.

As we contemplate and reflect,

We conclude,

There’s no right or wrong,

Simply experiences, remembering,

And intuition,

To guide us back home.

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Praising Falun Gong (Sonnet)

Let’s sing a song of praise for Falun Gong,

In China, on the other side of the globe.

A practice of truthfulness and compassion,

A group who seeks peace and forbearance. 

They are tortured, brainwashed and killed, 

In a nation constantly under attack.

CCP coerces them to give in,

And subject them to acts of cruelty.

Though true to their beliefs, 

They’ll even risk death and torture,

To proclaim freedom and peace.

How has the world become so corrupt?

Will it take another few million dead?

Or will we stop it before the next?

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The Falun Gong Mission (Sonnet)

As I lie awake in bed beneath my sheets,

In the comfort and safety of my home.

I cannot believe this insanity just next door,

For Falun Gong, the other side of the globe.

Practitioners are dying, tortured, and brutalized,

And despised and blamed though innocent.

The sad part is these fellow human beings,

Are mere mortals seeking newfound peace,

In a world where freedom is constantly targeted, 

For control and power and fear of the unknown.

How can we allow this profanity to occur?

Where enslavement and torture is the norm,

For a group who practices freedom and love,

Where compassion is their primary goal.