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abecedarian May 2014
welcome to me,
in advance,
I thank thee

I am an abecedarian
a newbie,
learning the letters of the alphabet;
the green shoot,
a beginner beginning,
in any field of learning,
but stepping out here
so carefully
in the minefield
of poetic works

but here I find muy self
at your disposal,
hoping that my rearrangement
of our common letters shall
make uncommon sounds,
pleasing all thy senses,
as your essays, do mine

glory and bravery are
for the battlefield

around this table,
I hope to share but
courage and compassion,
battlefield traits as well

glory, none sought,
bravery, some but,
only to be to mine own self, true,

but
courage to dispossess my inner self,
and you, with com-passion,
meeting a welcome reception

these from within,
I conjure and summon
and with these,
bid you peace

of what I shall compose,
are paths yet to be found
on no map plotted or recorded,
but this I speak with utmost surety,
of thee I will surely sing
Mark Toney Mar 2020
A
Baby
Cries,
Demanding,
Emphatic,
Forming,
Growing,
Having
Intelligence,
Joy,
Kindness,
Love.
Mounting
Neuroses,
Outrageous
Propaganda,
Quickly
Remove
Simple
Truth,
Unleashing
Violence-
Wanton,
Xenophobic.
Youthquake
Zeitgeist!


© 2020 by Mark Toney.  All rights reserved.
2/25/2020 - Poetry form: Abecedarian - An Abecedarian poem is a type of acrostic poem that is arranged by alphabetical order, the initial line beginning with the first letter of the alphabet. Each line or verse begins with the next letter of the alphabet and ending with the final letter; sometimes known as an alphabet poem. - © 2020 by Mark Toney.  All rights reserved.
Tori Schall Aug 2019
Zebras have their stripes
And lions have their pride,
Bears have their strength but
Cattle wait to die.
Doesn’t anyone see it?
Every slaughter, every ****,
For in that we are united.
Going round and round,
Hardly moving
In a world of mindless entertainment.
Jerking the wheel just to make that turn,
Killing fear with thrill.
Lonely days filled with strangers
Moaning in the night,
Nothing underneath the covers,
Only leaving by daylight.
Perhaps it was warranted, but
Questions go unanswered.
Revolting sights and
Sickening sounds,
Turn your stomach upside down.
Underneath it all, the
Vanity only leads to insanity.
When humans breed infection,
X-rays “cure” the problem.
Yet the cattle breed and die.
abecedarian Sep 2017
he said/begged,
make love to me just like a woman!

kiss me toe to head, linger on my neck,
trace my waist, begin at my lips, pause at my hips,
quibbles intersperse, quips and licks on eyelids,
nibble me, near me, close and closer yet
unto the glorious victorious near death experience...

whisper me sweet everythings
before during after and over again,
when you must pause to exhale, blow all their warmth
upon thy fingers and bring that warmth inside

Columbus
me with tongue and eyes,
take me slow then again,
even slower, for thy pleasure,
than execute summary judgement upon me

falsely accept, then deny, deny, deny
my every appeal to
oh my god
for anyone's mercy!

adjudge me then guilty yet again,
and to the tower take me
to drown in mine own lashing lamentations,
thy incontrovertible evidence,
mine own uncensored revelations
execute me twice,
slowly, goodly with lengthy and lovely measures


she said,  and so I shall, eventually,
do what you beseech, what you most excellently seek

but you may recall, somewhat earlier, I called out
shotgun
so you must start my dear by following
all the precise driving instructions you just stated,
and bring your GPS^, and, oh yes,
I'm waiting...


too wit and sod this!
he gruffingly huffingly, hurrumphingly, replied,
all hell and damnation,
treat me like a woman just once pity-please!"

can't can't can't -
she be-witchingly cackled!

then sang to me the lyrical words of a
Nobel Prize winner!

"
You fake just like a woman
Yes you do, you make love like a woman
Yes you do, and then you ache just like a woman
But you break just like a little boy
"
^GPS is a permanently attached male guidance system.
The P does nots stand for Positioning.
Logan Robertson Apr 2019
ISIS Juggernaut


Another
Bombing
Crisis
Darkens
Everyone's
Fearful
Go­od
Home.
ISIS'
Jugger­naut
Knocking
Loud,
Malignancy
Noxiously
Odious.
Plants
Quickly
Rooting
Suicidal.
Terror
Under
Vile
Wings,
Xenophobic
Yet
Zygodactylous

Logan Robertson

4/29/2019
Xenophobe-a person having a dislike of or prejudice against people from other countries

Zygodactylous- In birds, applied to feet in which two toes point forwards, and two to the rear. How this concept applies to the poem is that ISIS can strike from every direction, swoop down at any time, with eyes and a network lurking from every tree branch so to speak. Sad.

Sad was this last Easter Sunday in Sri Lanka, 253 innocent victims, as mankind watches in horror. These birds of a feather flock together, and their flock is getting bigger, and I wish that it would fall and end.
ms reluctance Apr 2019
All the times you felt invisible
because you thought nobody
cared about you.  

Do you wonder if you have
ever made someone in your life
feel the same way?

Gave up asking
how they were doing,
if they were really okay,
just because you always got the same answer.  

Kept silent in the face of silence.
Let them push you away.
Made little effort to
nudge the truth
out of their reticence.

Pain can make you
quite blind;
rather oblivious to the
same feelings in others.

Tunnel vision of the soul.
NaPoWriMo Day 19
Poetry form: Abecedarian
Devin Seiger Dec 2018
Apples will fall from trees and land with a thud against the earth,
but she may not like the constant beat against her chest.
Can we understand
death when we can’t
even listen to the cadence of its changing melody?
Furthermore, the fire’s always burning,
granted we aren’t sure who started it.
He insists that we should listen to his judgement without
idolizing his actions, however many would start
jumping if he had asked them to take their lives.
Killing….and
lively as we are, the world is filled with anger and the apples keep falling,
many of them smashing the grass beneath them over.. And over.
Never ending.
Our chest is tired! We
plead, yet the fire has burned even brighter and
quietly we listen to the lonely sound of it’s crackle.
Recently, I have come to understand (the earth) in her
struggle living with the life that she encompasses.
Tirelessly she listens never able to guide us or help us
understand how to help her… how to help ourselves.
Vocally, we aren’t there for each other when we should be.
Why is it that we continue to fall against the earth? Although, une
xpectedly the earth continues to catch us. “Thank
you,” I say to her, “I know we continue to fall against you. I recognize your
zeal, and hope maybe one day we will figure it out ourselves.”
If you read the first letter of each line youll find the ABC's. This is one of the first poems I wrote and was really happy with
Sketcher Nov 2018
A
Big
Complication:
Dealing
Emotions
For
Great
Heaps
Inasmuch
Jea­lousy
Kicks
Low
Medially
Now
Over
Passion
Quickly
Running
Strands­
Triggering
Unexpected
Voices
X-Ray
Yields
Zest
Many different perceptions in this poem.
Tyler Smiley Sep 2018
Air flowing through my lungs after forcing myself to run five miles.
Bottles of champagne.
Coffee shops owned by locals.
Dawn.
Eating disorder.
Food freedom, praying;
God, make me whole again.
Hellos, from the boy who holds my heart.
Intimacy without ever having to undress.
Jelly, smeared on homemade
kneaded dough made by my grandmother.
Laundry that I will never do, but my
mom always will.
Nights when the fireflies are abundant.
Ocean swims just as the sun is breaking.
Pinky promises.
Quietness of Sunday mornings.
Robbie.
Singing my favorite songs with the windows down.
Thin. Too thin.
Umbrellas not doing their job of keeping me dry.
Vanilla ice cream dripping onto my thighs
while the sun burns my back. I was too afraid to eat it, so I just watched it melt.
XI at night. I hate the darkness,
yearn for the morning sun instead.
Zoloft in tiny bottles.
Paul Hansford May 2016
Here are some subjects of which I have written
in blank verse, or free, or in rhyme.
I've tabulated twenty-six or so,
but might think of more, given time.

Arts and music show our humanity,
but Birds and Beasts also have passions.
Celebrations of joy, or Death and grief,
Events of all kinds inspire Emotions.

F tells of Friends and Family;
G and H, Garden and Home;
and I is Inspiration,
sometimes slow to come.

Jokes and humour entertain us,
or may have the power to move;
and K could be the Key to all secrets
of Language, Life and Love.

Metamorphosis and Magic can change our lives,
and the Natural world can surprise.
Objects of all kinds may inspire,
and Places we visit can open our eyes.

Quirky poems may be Quaint,
though Religion is generally serious.
Scenery and landscape surround us,
but Time is deeply mysterious.

Unfortunately my index doesn't include
any subjects beginning with U;
but I do have Verse-forms of various kinds,
Villanelle, sonnet, décima, haiku ...

Weather and seasons influence us,
and pastiches (by X) may be fun.
Youth and age come to us all in time,
and Z shows a poem's a fantasy one.

As you see, I've forced into an alphabet
some subjects I've treated in verse,
and if this is not one of my best poems,
at least I can console myself by thinking that if I had maybe written it differently
        it could have been an awful lot worse.
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