Trumping the Homeless | Dennis E. Rager - Contemporary Poetry Website Featuring Notable Poems

Trumping the Homeless | Dennis E. Rager

Into the largest homeless settlement in Manhattan,
workmen advanced like troops of General Patton.
Dastardly avoiding demolition in broad daylight,
for fear, advocates would say, “This is really not right!”

Because the billionaire developer now owned the land,
from the railroad yards all squatters had to be banned.
The henchmen made their move in the approaching twilight,
hoping advocates wouldn’t admonish, “This is really not right!”

The crew was ready to begin construction,
so the shantytown was doomed for destruction.
With orders to clear everything from the site,
as advocates protested, “This is really not right!”

The hard hats remembered the riots in Tompkins Square,
when they were only doing what they were told was fair;
so they prepared themselves for a possible fight,
as the advocates warned, “This is really not right!”

Demanding all squatters promptly vacate the spot.
and anticipating someone might possibly get shot,
they worked in advance of the dawns early light,
over advocates repeating, “This is really not right!”

The bulldozers were coming. The danger was great,
so banishing the trespassers could no long wait.
Ordered to remove all remnants of urban blight,
they ignored advocates chanting, “This is really not right!”

The squatters were given no time to pack,
but they moved on, and they didn’t look back.
When none of the homeless were anywhere in sight,
the advocates plea echoed, “This is really not right!”

With few belongings in hand, they all took to the streets.
The developer was victorious. They accepted their defeat.
The homeless resigned themselves to this grievous slight,
disregarding the advocates’ cry, “This is really not right!

Before sunrise, the abandonment was complete,
after all the former settlers made a hasty retreat.
The billionaire, who was not in the least bit contrite,
ignoring advocates saying, “This is really not right!”

Reluctantly, they retreated, this homeless little band,
desperately searching for another piece of vacant land
to settle until their eviction some entrepreneur would incite,
while the advocates still insisted, “This is really not right!”

Scurrying Home | Ananya S. Guha - Contemporary Poetry Website Featuring Notable Poems

Scurrying Home | Ananya S. Guha

You have never known serpentine streets
which backlash winter’s
withering cold, and the hills
grow, tall masts overhead
summoning that change will
outgrow change and metamorphosis will be
people in jackets in armoury, look strange
behave with poignancy
their smile takes a blast with the wind,
they scurry home
beggars on streets can only hope that the rattle of coins will
increase
in new benisons
they scurry.

Silent Symphony | Kandice Johnson - Contemporary Poetry Website Featuring Notable Poems

Silent Symphony | Kandice Johnson

Do you honestly believe
I am your muse?
To write and compose
The melodies of my agony
I’m not your sheet of music
My suffering is not
Your notes for you to choose
And to be honest
Only a man Of dishonor
And bad taste
Would conduct a symphony
Playing my tears of pain
Boasting his power
For the audience to applaud
How perfect you really
Believe your are
So go ahead
I beg of you
Play the melodies of your
Cowardly tune
Play till your hearts content
Play I beg of you till
Your fingers split
Trust me when I say
I’m not the one your
Humiliating today
Your words no longer
Serve me nor
Cut deep in my skin
Your attempts to control me
Scaring me to write
The melodies of my cries
Has came to its end
I’ll no longer bow down
I’ll no longer cave in
This time it’s my turn
I will write my own music
And play for everyone
To hear
My poetry you read
Is my silent symphony
Sharing my orchestra
Of feelings
Thoughts
Dreams
Fears
Broken heart
Laughter
And
Tears
Giving hope to those
Who’ve suffered the same fate
Letting others know
They’re not alone
I too have fought
Destinies waves
My journey in life
Is my Muse
To write and compose
On the white blank sheets
The music of My
Poetrys silent symphony
Exposing my best
And my worst
Until the day
The silence of my voice
Is finally heard

Whispering for a Father | Kandice Johnson - Contemporary Poetry Website Featuring Notable Poems

Whispering for a Father | Kandice Johnson

I yearn for the silence of the madness around me
Finding solace in the darkness to hold and cradle me in this twilight of tears
I am a withering rose slowly dying
As life giving water of my fathers love will never fall upon my heart
My soul dreams no more for happiness
I find refuge in the shadows
where fates kiss of farewell surely falls upon me
I try to hold onto memories melody to the rhythm of my broken heart
Whispering the words to a fading song that none shall hear
There is no peace in my heart for what can be of setting me free
When I know you are my father and I may never receive your love in this lifetime
l wish For the darkness to cradle me gently as I drift to sleep under the moonlit sky
Let me be the shadow between night and day
The shadow of a untouched heart
And a song that only the wolves will sing
The night sky will be lit by the fragments of my broken heart
My tears will be the falling stars My orphaned soul will whisper to you upon the wind that touches your face
Yet you shall never hear me say I hate you
Let it be my darkness
trapped between heaven and hell
For none can touch the sadness of my father’s rejection
I will wonder alone in the shadows longing for a fathers love that can never be felt
My eyes will speak where my heart cannot
For it is slowly fading away in the shadows of pain that shall never perish
Let the world know you are everything to me
And as I fall upon the world
My sadness will be forever winds whispering for a father

Tweet Dreams | Ivan Jenson - Contemporary Poetry Website Featuring Notable Poems

Tweet Dreams | Ivan Jenson

A revelation will
dawn on civilization like
the second coming or the
twelfth hour arrival of the prophecy
promised by various
dusty non-digital books
and this sermon will amount
to a hill of hallelujahs
and certain sects will
say “I told you so”
and others will say
“how could I know?”
and the stoners
and the stone throwers
will unite in a
holographic chant
as they are beamed up
like Spock and Kirk
to a place where
Charlton Heston
shoots flowers from a rifle
and that trifle you
worry your little head about
will be straightened out
like the sheets everyone
will wear wrapped around them
and Bacchus’s wine will flow
on a summer’s day
in the fall
of ideologies both
Western and Eastern
and everything intangible
will be all right

More at https://www.ivanjenson.com/.

Labyrinth | Eliza Segiet - Contemporary Poetry Website Featuring Notable Poems

Labyrinth | Eliza Segiet

In the vortex of dance,
wandering in the labyrinth of time
she saw
the ephemerality of existence.
Today turns into yesterday
as in the Heraklite river
– fluid, smooth.
Although trees live longer than humans,
slouching between them
one can see the scattered dandelions.
And behind a tall wall of boxwood
there is everything
one cannot go back to.
Every ray of the sun
is a hope for existence,
even though
at some point it will
not allow for a gust of life.

Translated by Artur Komoter.

I've Tried to Tell You | Matthias Rupertsson - Contemporary Poetry Website Featuring Notable Poems

I’ve Tried to Tell You | Matthias Rupertsson

I’ve tried to tell you
But you won’t listen,
That’s the way you are,
You say what you want to say
And nobody else’s opinion matters.

I see your face shut down,
How hard you become when
You close your heart and
Block out all the sunlight,
Hanging on to the illusion of control.

I’m getting tired of this pathetic
Behavior, there’s more to life
Than trying to get along with
Someone who doesn’t know
How to be anything but difficult.

Best Poetry Online