Sample Poems

 

Introduction



Oh, nice to meet you, by the way (man you're good looking!). So glad you've popped in.
Oops, shoes off please.
And don't forget to turn the light off when you leave, just in case I may have dozed off.


When finished with this page, simply press your BACK button.

31 poems, a tiny bit more of what to expect, and some notes (bottom of this page).



THE WORLD WAS OBLIVIOUS TO ME TODAY, UNTIL I TOOK THE INITIATIVE,
AND GREETED PEOPLE ON THEIR WAY, WHICH I HAVE TO SAY, MADE ALL
THE DIFFERENCE TO OUR DAY. :-)




Everyone's name should be proudly CAPITALIZED,
Then round it, a CIRCLE of love,
Neath it, an UNDERSCORE of serious intention,
At the end of it, an inquiring QUESTION MARK of interest
and concern,
Followed by an EXCLAMATION MARK of continued
commitment.




Specially featured poem:


When Out For A Stroll One Day


I asked Love how I could be as if love too, and Love replied, “Just copy me,
The way I think, the way I speak, and the way that I act, but genuinely;
And I meaning, because you mean it, it coming from your heart, deep down inside,
I thus taking over, engulfing you, we as if one, I where I can guide.

Yes, you having given me permission, because I’m not one to force my way,
But there if I’m wanted, and I know that I’m needed, every single day.
So clothe yourself in my style, dwelling on me, preaching of me, but most of all,
Living as if me, and how you’ll become as if me, and thereby, my throne install.

Thus others blessed because of you (though really me), and changes occurring too,
Both within yourself and others, such but my forte, my track record proving true.
In other words, I’ll never let you down, so long as I’m inhabiting you,
Which all comes down to you, imitating but the start, for you too, must prove true.”

By Lance Landall


"Love that's lived is love that's real."
The poet, author





THE SAMPLE POEMS





Begining with the humorous, then the light-hearted, semi-light-hearted, and serious,
with various things in-between.



1.  With Miss Muffet In Mind


Little Miss Muffet sat on her tuffet eating her curds and whey, we’ve been told,
When along came a spider that sat down beside her, and abject fear took hold.
Oh dear, here we go again, more fake news, anything to get our attention,
All why nothing about poor Incy Wincy spider I’ve chosen to mention.

I mean to say, the heartbreaking details, too bad if he climbed back up again,
It’s what happened in the meantime (the poor little sodden thing), and hence my pen.
Yes, I moved to tears, it all just too much, Jack and Jill’s incident bad enough,
All why I’ve had to get such off my chest, keep dreaming ’bout those Billy Goats Gruff.

By Lance Landall


More humorous poems (along with other humorous things) can be found on my pages:
Anything; Cool Bananas; Investigations; Odds 'n' Ends; The Secret; More Humour;
and even Special Poems.

"Love is the greatest human expression, and the deeper its core,
the stronger its impression."
The poet, author





IMAGINE IF ONE COULD WRITE ABOUT NOTHING, ABSOLUTELY NOTHING,
BUT JUST WRITING FOR WRITING'S SAKE, WHICH LONG WOULDN'T TAKE, AND
WHICH I THINK I'VE DONE, IT KIND OF FUN, AND ACTUALLY WIDE AWAKE.






2.  Okay


“You’re welcome to have a bit,” she said, and I said, “Thank you, but no, it’s okay,”
But she insisted that I try a bit, and I reluctantly said, “Okay.”
Then she asked, “Is this much alright?” (which wasn’t really), and I said, “Oh, okay,”
And after I had taken it, and was chewing it, she asked, “Was it Okay?”

Was it okay?! Was it what! And, “Would you like more?” she asked, and I said, “Okay,”
But really meaning, “Yes please!” because it was way more than just being okay.
“It’s quite nice,” I added, and she asked, “Would you like some more?” and I said, “Okay,”
Until she’d had half and I’d had half; I concerned about her feelings, okay?

By Lance Landall

  





HELLO, MISTER OAK, YOU'RE A HANDSOME SORT OF BLOKE, BUT MUST YOU DROP
YOUR LEAVES ALL OVER THE PLACE, IT SUCH A DISGRACE, AND ALL THAT WORK YOU
CAUSE FOR ME — WEEKS, IN FACT, A MONTH OR THREE — MY RAKE WEARING THIN,
MY PATIENCE TOO, SO IF YOU DON'T MIND, OR AN ARBORIST I'LL FIND.






3.  On The Road


As well as a petrol stop, there needs to be a regular hug oasis,
A mood enhancing top up centre in various accessible places.
No credit card necessary, the service free, hearts pumping welcomingly,
And thus one ready to go again, one’s mood tank never on low, or empty.

Yes, a hug oasis in various places, attendants ready and waiting,
And a sign as large as can be, which, “A free hug on the journey,” is stating.
Oh, what a difference such would make, road rage a thing of the past, tickets too,
Everyone cruising calmly and smilingly, seen waving at me and you.

By Lance Landall


"Love's a hugger, not a mugger."
The poet, author


More poems like this one can be found on my pages:
Simply Love; Creative Love; Pleasant Place; and Have A Nice Day.





LOVE NEEDS NO VITAMIN TABLET, NO TONIC, NO SUPER SHOT,
NO ENERGY DRINK, ABSOLUTELY NOTHING AT ALL, BUT YOU
AND ME, THAT'S ALL, AND BUSY, BUSY, BUSY.

 



4.  Doctor! Doctor!


Planet Earth went off to the doctor one day, due to feeling rather poorly,
Under the weather, one might say, changes having occurred, and quite severely.
“Well, lets have a look, shall we,” the doctor said, worldly wise, yet down to earth, and
You might have guessed it, Earth’s temperature was up, thus Earth needing a healing hand.

Further tests revealed a systemic problem, major clogging and depletion,
Which pointed to a lack of thought and care, a concerning deterioration.
“Well,” said the doctor, “If something’s not done quickly to turn things around, oh dear,
It could become terminal,” which had Earth spinning, the nature of it all clear.

The current careless climate untenable, one needing to get to the core,
No good just dealing with the symptomatic crust, but deeper things to explore.
Yes, active tectonics one thing, but one needing to get to fossil level,
Earth’s mantle, that is, thus taking a holistic approach, that all might be well.

Thus Earth needing specialists of various kinds, so a global call was made;
Well, given the gravity of the situation, which one couldn’t evade.
It all an axis of evil attacks on Earth’s system — yes, a body blow,
And if it didn’t end, then Earth would end; which gives us all cause to pause, you know.

Yes, it's an ill wind that blows when one fouls one's own nest, which planet Earth soon found,
Though it not Earth's fault here, beautifully created, and by certain laws bound.
That cancerous attack coming from humans, which an investigation found,
Yet many humans seemingly unrepentant, despite what goes 'round comes 'round.

By Lance Landall


This poem was penned 13 July 2025.

For more such poems, see my pages: Planet Earth; The Trouble With Tomorrow;
Concern For Creatures.

A book worth a look at: Cranky Uncle vs. Climate Change By Dr. John Cook.
Or visit the website: www.crankyuncle.com

"Love's not affected by climate change."
The poet, author





A LITTLE CLOSER OR FURTHER FROM THE SUN, AND EARTH WOULD
BE IN TROUBLE, BIG TROUBLE, AND YET, DARWIN'S BORROWED
AND INVENTIVE THEORY IS STILL SPUN; THE CRITICALNESS OF SUCH
PRECISENESS LOST, AND AT SUCH A HUMAN COST.






5.  Browned Off


I asked what he thought of racism, and he replied, “It’s black and white, really,
People always trying to colour things, which has me seeing red, actually.
It’s about time they used their grey matter, and simply saw everyone the same,
Those racist brush strokes yellow with age, purple with injury, and scarlet with shame.

No one complains about rainbows, macaws, leopards, zebras, nor those flower bouquets,
So why that silly nonsense when it comes to humans? Oh, that murky mental haze.
Personally, it wouldn’t bother me if someone was orange with bright green spots,
The whole thing but a weird Salvador Dali composition, which I hope soon stops.

As far as things go, it’s all a pigment of their imagination, which, sadly,
Leaves many riled or blue, ’cause it simply treats people both unfairly and badly.
The world meant to be colourful, not just a whiter shade of pale, but vibrant and rich,
Free of a tinge of prejudice — yes, free of that jaundiced colourization, which,

Has many of us browned off."

By Lance Landall


"Browned off" means annoyed.

For more such poems, see my pages: Racism And Bigotry; and This World And Us.

"Love is colour-blind."
The poet, author





IF LOVE FILLED EVERY HEART AND DIRECTED EVERY MIND, EVERYTHING
SAID AND DONE WOULD BE BEAUTIFULLY INTERTWINED.






6.  What A Forecast!


If love took this sad old world by storm, there’d be a deluge of love, thought and care,
Everyone flooded with kindness, a thunderous awakening of cheer.
Yes, a climate change of epic proportions, a lightning strike of hope and joy,
A hefty rain band of charity, compassion, empathy and grace — oh boy!

That warm front of understanding, tenderness and forgiveness approaching all,
The atmosphere decidedly humid with affection, hugs that would enthral.
But only if love took this sad old world by storm, threw everything at us,
And with it, and over each person, created an ozone layer of fuss.

By Lance Landall





AS PETALS FALL FROM A FLOWER, AND LEAVES FROM A TREE, SO TOO
THOSE YEARS ALLOTTED TO HUMANITY, WHICH, USED FOR GOOD OR ILL,
ARE LINKED TO DESTINY, FOR THERE HAS TO BE ACCOUNTABILITY, AND
THUS THE RAKE OF JUSTICE GATHERING ACCORDINGLY.






7.  A Plea


Oh, if in everything we said and did, love stood out like a neon light,
This planet would be the brightest star of all, and of happier things I’d write.
But sad to say, such isn’t so, and hence that sadness I feel, lest love die,
It’s fire less kindled today, and why of its lack I enquire, thus asking, "Why?"

After all, what is greater than love, and what better answer, what better way,
Hearts and minds tender with kindness, encouraging smiles and affection on display.
Yet love but seen in dribs and drabs, a spike here, a dip there, and all why I fear
That if there’s not a major resurgence, love’s flicker might quietly disappear.

By Lance Landall


A number of pages on my website cover love, though in particular: Simply Love;
Creative Love; Love First And Foremost; Love's For All; The Truth About Love;
God's Love; and Love, Thought And Care.





THE GREATEST AND MOST PRECIOUS WORD I'VE EVER HEARD IS LOVE, A FEELING
AND DOING WORD, ONE THAT KEEPS ON GIVING, WHICH IS THE ESSENCE OF LIVING,
THE UNIVERSAL ANSWER, THE ONLY ANSWER, TO BE HEARD AND SEEN, SAID AND
DONE, WRITTEN AND EXPRESSED, MIRRORED AND CONFESSED, AND ISN'T LOVE THE
GOLDEN TEST?






8.  As Corny As It May Sound


Yes, as corny as it may sound, and given how love’s been abused, made soppy;
In other words, sentimentalised to death, exchanged for a weakly copy,
Love should be the beginning and end of everything that we say and do,
And everything in-between, what represents me, and what represents you.

Oh yes, love the essence, the core, the heart of every plan and desire,
And why too, of everyone’s best interests and health we should inquire.
True happiness and joy never secured by inwardness, but outwardness, and
That’s what love’s about — OTHERS — never us, which too many fail to understand.

Yes, love is real, love is true, love is everything but what it’s not, and so
What love is, we need to know, lest in our ignorance, the opposite we show.
And love knowing certain things should be said and done, but according to its way,
And until such becomes our way too, things will inevitably go astray.

And so, as corny as it may sound, given how love’s oft been poorly portrayed;
In other words, murdered by undue praise, dulled by not calling a spade a spade,
Love should be the flag on every pole, the banner of every parade,
The bottom line, and far from commercial, but rather, delightfully homemade.

By Lance Landall


As mentioned under my poem A Plea, a number of pages on my website cover love.

"Love seeks every heart, but not every heart seeks love."
The poet, author





LOVE'S BEEN AROUND FOREVER, KNOWS THE ROPES, AND IS CREATIVELY
CLEVER, A WISE OLD BIRD, ONE WINGING IT'S WAY, A LOVEBIRD, I DARE SAY,
HARMLOUS AS A KITTEN, AS COMFORTING AS A TEDDY, NICE AND STEADY,
AND ALWAYS SEEN TO PAY.






9.  You're Not Alone


I wish I could remove your suffering, or is it heartbreak you’re going through?
But all I can do is show that I care via word or act, thus thinking of you.
'Cause who’d ignore a fellow traveller struggling with pain or grief? No, not I,
This world having given me many a reason to sigh, cry and question “Why?”

Yes, there’re many of us who’ve suffered too, though I’ve no desire to talk of me,
But rather, to let you know that you’re not alone, though feeling so, possibly.
And if so, understandably so, for this world can be very harsh and cold,
Or so it seems until the cheer of a caring rosebud is seen to unfold.

Perhaps it’s just a hug you need, or arm around the shoulder, such no mere token,
'Cause sometimes greater thoughtfulness is shown via an act where words aren’t spoken.
In fact, words oft getting in the way, some folk kind of clumsy with what they say,
But meaning well, though who among us never errs, isn’t seen to wrongly weigh?

Yes, be it physical or emotional, some things are very hard to bear,
And why it’s reassuring to know that folk who truly love and care are near.
'Cause though they can’t wave a magic wand, they can seek or pray on our behalf, and
In the meantime, via word or act, show that they really feel for us, understand.

By Lance Landall


For more such poems, see my pages: Tender Spot; Hurting?; Love, Thought And Care.

"If love had its way, it would have all the say."
The poet, author





Love has arms, legs, eyes, ears, a mouth, and even a nose, which sounds like you
and I, oh my, that should have us on our toes, need's scent tickling our nose, and
"I spy with my little eye" actually being what I meant, we Heaven sent, on our way,
night or day, as if love itself, and in all its glory — oh, what a story, we up to our neck
in thought, knee deep in care — yes, you and I, oh my, attennnnnnnnnnntion!





10.  Acting More Kindly


How often has someone told you something in your life that you’ve assumed is true 
(No horse’s mouth consulted), but which you’ve gone by? And if untrue, pity who.
All why we should mind what we do with such information, lest we make things worse,
And hence the danger of damming stories, gossip often nothing but a curse.

And such sad tales all too easy to accept if we don’t care for that someone,
Their possible ill fitting our bias, and all how a lot of evil’s done.
Perhaps we experienced them when they were having a bad day, like us all,
A sure way to get people wrong, and all how tales can grow cruelly long and tall.

Thus that dossier on someone containing half-truths or lies, and this all why
We need to mind, treating them no different ’till we find it’s true, not a lie.
And where it is true, we minding too, taking all into account, lest it be
We’re over harsh — the life of many complex — and thus we acting more kindly.

By Lance Landall


For poems regarding whether we should judge others or not,
see my page Regarding Judging Others.

"What we're told about somebody often isn't the business of anybody."
The poet, author





LOVE INQUIRED OF ME TODAY, ON ITS REGULAR LOVING WAY, "WHAT CAN I DO
FOR YOU?" AND I SAID, WELL AHEAD, "NOT FOR ME, DEAR LOVE, BUT FOR HIM OR
HER," TO WHICH LOVE REPLIED, BURSTING WITH PRIDE, "I SEE I'VE ALREADY
VISITED YOU."




11.  Fellow Travellers


As people come our way, they’ll not meet our ten out of ten, which is reality,
And nor will all that’s in their personal garden be to our liking, and thus we
Accepting them as we find them, appreciating individuality,
Those thoughts and ways that are different to ours, even any eccentricity.

In other words, that preciousness of humanity, and thus love ruling the day,
We only avoiding or condemning hatred and violence, where on display
Though where it’s possible, and in such lives, we helping them to see differently,
Such weeds in any garden needing to be uprooted, and sometimes, tactfully.

Thus our expectations being reasonable, and others not ours to control,
They but fellow travellers on their journey, with their load, and as they like to roll.
We all having our own pace, needing our own space too, time to deal with things, or heal,
And many gardens have been neglected, and there’re those, who from us, good things steal.

So, a loving plant or two, or helpful fork and spade, restoring or changing,
Though in the lives of all of us, there are those things that may need some rearranging.
And thus we looking at others more kindly, more fairly, as we’d like them to do,
Given those things in our garden that didn’t but should’ve grown, or that wrongly grew.

By Lance Landall


For poems of a similar nature, see my pages The Sparrow; Just Be There;
Tender Spot; and Love, Thought And Care.





I PROBED LOVE'S THOUGHTS REGARDING SANTA CLAUS, THOSE SOCKS AND
THAT CHIMNEY WITHIN MANY MERRY CHRISTMAS DOORS, AND LOVE SIGHED
AND SAID, SLIGHTLY RAISING ITS HEAD, "I DON'T HAVE A PROBLEM WITH GIVING
THINGS, BUT I'M ALL ABOUT GIVING MYSELF," WHICH LEFT ME PONDERING A WHILE,
AND LIKING LOVE'S STYLE, IT FULL OF DEPTH AND MEANING TO ME, AND,
I THOUGHT, ENTIRELY WHERE ONE'S FOCUS SHOULD BE.






12.  Hands Off Others!


Yes,

Hands off others, ’cause you didn’t create them, you don’t own them, so they’re not yours,
Nor your slave, toy, punch bag, dartboard or footstool, outside of, or behind, closed doors.
Nor are you more superior, more entitled, nor the owner of their brain,
And all why they’ve their own opinions and beliefs, and hence that no-go domain.

No, they’re not to be silenced, somehow censored, made to say and do what suits you,
’Cause their life’s their life, like yours is yours, thus their own dreams they’ve a right to pursue.
So hands off, ’cause they weren’t born to be controlled, manipulated or trodden on,
But to be themselves, to fly their own kite, so please close the door after you’ve gone.

By Lance Landall


For poems of a similar nature, and one's worth, see my page A Declaration,
and even my page The Evil Of Violence.

"Men of character don't wound or kill, but only those who're evil, deluded, or unwell."
The poet, author





WE NEED TO STOP GOING BY LOOKS, EVEN THOSE GUSHY ROMANTIC BOOKS,
BECAUSE IT'S NOT WHAT'S ON THE OUTSIDE, THAT MATTERS, BUT WHAT'S ON
THE INSIDE, THAT MATTERS — THE PERSON! — IN OTHER WORDS, THEIR HEART
AND MIND, BECAUSE WHAT WE SO OFTEN FIND, IS A BEAUTIFUL CHARACTER IN A
NOT SO ATTRACTIVE BODY, AND HENCE WHY WHAT COUNTS ISN'T THE BODY, BUT
THAT PERSON, THAT AMAZINGNESS WITHIN, JUST LIKE SOME THINGS WE EAT THAT
DON'T LOOK THAT NICE, BUT THAT ACTUALLY TASTE REALLY NICE, AND WHY IN
THE CUPBOARD THEY GO, AND NOT THE BIN.





13.  Believe It


Better to err on the side of grace, better to swing a little liberal,
Rather than even a hint of legalistic, authoritarian ill.
The Trump administration being evidence enough, and adding to that,
Christian Nationalism, where surely one can smell a big historic rat.

Yes, dangers to the left, dangers to the right — oh for balance — but one thing’s clear,
The more that things head further to the right, the more that we’ve good reason for fear.
Harshness never having won the day, nor force or law, which can’t change hearts and minds,
And how we simply end up with tyranny, all of which history reminds.

You’ve heard of Pharisees, religious persecutors, and how we see today
Freedom of expression under draconian attack, the dictator’s way.
Oh, the excuses for clamping down, and who’s been fuelling the chaos and ill?
And why it’s better to err on the side of grace, swing a little liberal.

By Lance Landall


For more poems of this nature, see my page: Wisdom And Truth Matter.





TOO OFTEN ILL COMES DRESSED IN LOVE, FOR WHAT BETTER
WAY TO FOOL, AND SO IT IS WITH THOSE WHO CON, AND SOME
WHO SEEK TO RULE. 






14.  Where Truths Are Said, And Gracious Is Pride


When love’s in the heart, and the mind is sound and open, respectful of all views,
And no one’s treated any differently because of what they say or choose,
Then all is well within the soul, and thus no one threatened, nor their rights denied,
And vice versa thus marking true friendship, where truths are said, and gracious is pride.

Thus gone is hindrance, challenge welcomed, and thereby, growth able to be obtained,
Each coming from different angles and backgrounds, conversing relaxed, not strained.
Yes, no offence meant, no offence taken, and how it is that we awaken,
Having held what needed probing, thus quietly corrected, one's point taken.

By Lance Landall


"In a civilised country, you counter ideas you don't like with more speech and debate,
not violence and intimidation."
Dr James McDowall

"Freedom of expression is the matrix, the indispensable condition
of nearly every other form of freedom."
Benjamin Cardozo (1870-1938), Associate Justice of the U.S. Supreme Court.





15.  Never Wound A Woman's Spirit


I was thinking about you, Son, and how stress can oft get the better of you,
And hence that flying oft the handle, or that harshness, which so much harm can do.
All why I feel for your wife, Son, and you’re very lucky to have her, you know,
So hey, never wound a woman’s spirit, but only loving, tender care show.

The truth, Son, is that while wounds may heal, the scar still remains in the memory,
Be it betrayal, humiliation, something cruel said, or physicality.
The latter a no go path, of course, and a path that I’m sure you wouldn’t take,
But reckless words and actions are bad enough, and can have her lying awake.

Yes, you don’t want her thinking, Son, so mind all those things that you might say or do,
Because once you wound your wife’s spirit, Son, you damage that love she has for you.
Some things one can get over, Son, but a wounded spirit doesn’t always heal,
Because you’ve pierced her very heart and soul — and believe me, son, that’s a big deal.

By Lance Landall


For more poems regarding concern for women, see my pages: Concern For Women; Husbands And Wives;
Love The Girl; Beauty Beware; Time To Face Things; and even To My Wife.

"Love should be in charge of every relationship, the overseer of both intimacy and companionship."
The poet, author





16.  May It Be So, Son


May your gratefulness for another day, the wonder of life and creation,
Steer your course on this Earth, your thoughts, words and actions in every situation.
You mindful of the gift of life that you have received, and that others have rights,
And that too few are heroes and heroines, which your attention thus invites.

Yes, may your birth produce much kindness, a love for man and every creature seen,
Your eyes and ears sensitive to every cry, your heart and conscience sound and clean.
And you, always prepared to lend a hand, more attuned to other’s needs than yours,
And never turning to any means but the right means, a man of peace, not wars.

May your treatment of women be nothing short of outstanding, you thus a man,
Not someone trying to pass himself off as one, chivalry hardly his plan.
But rather, you protective and honourable, speaking out despite the roar,
Your mum and dad proud, your wife experiencing that happiness she foresaw.

Yes, may it be so, son, this Earth having been the better for your presence here,
And all whose path you’ve crossed, come that time when beneath graveyard clods you disappear.
'Cause too many misuse the gift they’ve been given, leaving this Earth all the worse,
Hence why I’m praying that your entrance will prove to be a blessing, not a curse.

The truth is, that men come and go, they either selfish or selfless, women too,
And as far as those selfless men go, and in the scheme of things, they rather few.
Most men saving their own skin, out for their own ends, simply living for the day,
Rather than searching for truth, living to serve, and desiring a better way.

By Lance Landall


For poems regarding concern for men, see my pages: Concern for Men; Damaged Men; Give The Man A Chance.

"Love likes to steal the show, but it needs the stage, and everyone's say so."
The poet, author





IF WE HAVE ALWAYS STAYED ON THE SIDE OF GOOD AND RIGHT, WE COULD NOT HAVE CHOSEN
A MORE BRIGHTER LIGHT, NOR CHOSEN A MORE NOBLE GOAL, THUS REVEALING THE INNER BEAUTY
OF OUR SOUL, OUR HEART AS CLEAR AS DAY, NOT DIM AND DARK LIKE SHUT-EYE NIGHT.





17.  To The Living Young


As sand slips through life’s hour glass, so too those minutes, one older by the second,
And thus soon gone those years, months, weeks and days — our three score years and ten, it’s reckoned.
Life like petrol in a car’s tank, but without a refilling station, and why we
Should treat every moment as if it’s gold, and before life’s gauge shows empty.

At first, those three score years and ten seeming like planets away, but time goes fast,
It ticking away with certainty, ’till almost suddenly, our life is past.
Thus too late for anything, we hardly having noticed, though in later years
Aches and possible regrets may pull us up, we counting smiles or falling tears.

But still the inevitable, the sand in the hour glass soon becoming still,
That opportunity to make the most of life gone, and now, death’s chlorophyll.
Wisdom’s mantle having come rather late, folly’s impetuousness too soon,
And for the reckless and lawless, that hour glass oft cut short like a popped balloon.

So to the living young, I say, make the most of each day, but in a worthy way,
For there alone is found true happiness and joy, and not that which will betray.
Thus we getting out of life’s garden what we planted, flowers or weeds, which here,
Will have us smile as we face that hour glass, or possibly feeling pain that’s sheer.

Though death has the last say, and too oft at the hands of others, what we should do
Is just laugh in its face, adopting a meantime grateful and contented view,
’Cause life may not have visited us, and short being better than not at all,
So don’t waste any precious sand, which once through that hour glass gap, back up can’t crawl.

By Lance Landall


For more such poems, see my pages: Parents And Seniors; and The Trouble With Tomorrow.





18.  Window Dressing


There’re many religions with their varying beliefs, this or that ritual,
But it’s all just window dressing if love’s not at the helm, and behind them all,
If they’re not passionately anti-violence, anti-war, and anti-hate,
Anti anything that harms or injures another soul, shows some evil trait.

Yes, they can speak of Jehovah, Allah or Buddha, and have their set of rules,
But if love’s not their every word and action, they might as well down their tools.
Yes, if they’re not deeply committed to gutsy, tender loving thought and care,
Nor bleeding and raging within over maiming and killing, their heart’s cold and bare.

If they’re toting guns, or waving placards that would do a zealot proud, and are
 Wanting to enforce rather than influence, and turn a chat into a spar,
They’re not only a very real threat, but more a black hole than a shinning star,
A bad example, even false witness, whose words and ways simply punch and mar.

Yes, too many wear their religion rather than live their religion, and how
Hypocrites abound, and how love often takes a back seat to some sacred cow.
And all when love should be first and foremost, in and behind everything, which
Shows the truth of the matter, state of one’s religion, despite some clever pitch.

All why those hollow religions might as well down their tools, for what do they gain
If they’re just another set of rules, not there to change, but more command and train?
Hence that need of changed hearts and minds, that inward change, which religion’s surely there for,
And if not, it’s no better than civil law, broken at will, love not at the core.

By Lance Landall


"If love ran for president, supported by every resident, it would never be out of office,
and would set a beautiful precedent."
The poet, author





19.  It's So Easy


It’s so easy to look at others (and sound evaluations must oft be made),
But it's clear we all have our own sad flaws and failings, and some price for wrong have paid.
Yes, most of us needing more than just a cut and polish, and yet, pointing harshly,
And this, when many are struggling with who knows what, or they're clinging perilously.

Yes, insensitive words and acts can act like boots on fingers, and down many go,
Cutting stones and rocks showering them as they plummet; other R.I.Ps below.
And we with all the excuses as to why they have only got themselves to blame;
Well, one way or another, and self-righteousness too often adding to our shame.

Yes, it’s true that many have caused their own dilemma, having acted foolishly,
But hey, it’s better to give them a helping hand and not leave them feeling angry.
For anger that's fuelled by frustration or desperation can kick back at us all;
Well, one way or another, and why it pays to show heart and make the better call.

And where’s our humanity, that milk of human kindness, that selfless love, and
That mercy that's also long-suffering, that attempt to try and understand?
After all, friend, what if the boot was on the other foot, and thus we in their place?
For life has a habit of toppling thrones and rebuking any who don’t show grace.

By Lance Landall


For more such poems, see my pages: The Angry And The Damaged; Choose Life;
The Sparrow; and Just Be There.

"If love blew into town, a smile in each holster and not a frown, every negative would go down,
despatched in a positive gown."
The poet, author





20.  The Absence Of


Have you noticed how world leaders never talk about love, nor changed hearts and minds,
But rather, anything but, which clearly shows a world that’s in tragic decline.
Sure there’s peace talks, ceasefire negotiations, but not the root cause of it all,
That corruption of humanity, or what Christians refer to as the Fall.

Oh yes, there’s been a fall alright, the world full of hate, anger and injury,
Criminality and suicides, and there're wars and rumours of wars, sadly.
Yes, selfishness, thoughtlessness, lawlessness and recklessness has got us nowhere,
And hence that mess we’re in, never learning, simply acting as if we don’t care.

And all why naught will change until we change, gone morals, standards and principles,
Which has ushered in the many woes we have — and hearts and minds too, full of ills.
Yet still that talk about anything but love, that need of renewed hearts and minds,
Those critical foundational qualities, necessary demarcation lines.

Yes, politicians come and go, other leaders too, promising this or that,
But all disappointing, and so it’ll remain, until people learn where it’s at.
Yes, character it’s called, and having a deep love for humanity, but no,
All we see is ambition, agendas, spinelessness, those who just go with the flow.

Thus liberty and free speech always under threat, even human life, and why
There has got to be a people change, gone the facade, pretence, fudging and lie.
Goodness not coming in a can, nor alternating, its needle true to the pole,
Thus love behind its every thought, word and action, encompassing the whole.

And that’s the presidents, prime ministers, mayors and so on that are needed here,
Not zealots, not enforcers, but those who’re balanced, compassionate, true and fair.
Noble men and women, not hypocrites, religious fanatics, nor braggers,
And nor those charlatans who hide behind things with their trickery and daggers.

Yes, leaders come and go, mostly of the same ilk, thus repeating history,
A corrupt society producing corrupt leaders — yes, more injury.
Thus truth always having its martyrs, and falsehood its persecutors, and yet,
People still choosing poorly given they’re no better, hence that flow of regret.

By Lance Landall


This poem was penned 17 November 2024.

"Where love doesn't govern the conscience, the heart needs an ambulance."
The poet, author





21.  It's WAR


War is but licensed murder, and soldiers fodder, politically sent,
Seemingly born to die, to act robotic, taught to hunt with ill intent.
Their fellowman or woman their target, no stopping ’till each bullet’s spent,
Their minds subservient, their hearts hardened, their nostrils flared with bloody scent.

All justified by the seared conscience, though often, it’s still seen to torment,
Flashbacks and nightmares avenging, but why over the dead should they repent?
A child’s wide eyes staring at them, a mother screaming, stuff one can’t invent,
It’s WAR, violence, annihilation, obliteration, each bullet MEANT.

By Lance Landall


This poem is not referring to those soldiers legitimately defending their country,
though there's still an inescapable essence that remains.

For more poems of this nature, see my pages: The Evil Of Violence; and Humanity.

"No war by any nation in any age has ever been declared by the people."
Eugene Debs





When many Jews themselves (even Holocaust survivors), IDF soldiers, Israeli opposition leaders,
Israeli human rights organisations, doctors and journalists who've borne witness to it all, the United
Nations and the ICJ, etc, strongly condemn what's gone on in Gaza, even call it genocide, we truly
need to sit up and take notice.


22.  Gaza


When I look at what’s gone on in Gaza (sides aside), I’m aghast, horrified,
The sheer hell of it, barbarity of it, oft referred to as genocide.
It’s like watching a horror movie, bomb after bomb after bomb, the ground red,
Thousands upon thousands horribly mutilated, and now, how many dead?

Is this humanity: Brutality and insanity? Real life on Earth?
Or the worst of nightmares, global, sadistic Frankensteins having given birth?
Oh, the madness of it, the depravity of it — yes, monsters let loose, it seems,
Who have no regard for precious lives, and who seek some end via the cruellest means.

People buried alive, shot whilst running for needed food, or bombed whilst sleeping,
They mostly women and children, and their assassins no penalty reaping.
Impunity like we’ve never seen, and hence those hospitals torn apart too,
Medics, aid workers and journalists, a SANCTIONED atrocity — it all true!

If we woke up from such a nightmare, it would leave us feeling sick yet relieved,
But this seems the new reality, and why my disbelieving heart is grieved.
And to think religion is playing a part here, the absurdity of it,
And if we’re not raging about it, shouting, “Stop! Stop!” then we too, are complicit.

Such shouldn’t be happening ANYWHERE to ANYONE, and such wouldn’t be
If love filled each heart and directed each mind; such my religion, thankfully.
Withholding medicine and food plain wicked, so too, destroying their homes and land,
And why all who indulge in such evil, before a court of justice should stand,

Including those who support such monsters, or who benefit from such evil,
Supplying weapons and so on, raking in the money, thus part of the ill.
Yes, the hell, that apocalyptic scene, thus fouling humanity’s nest too,
Which seems utterly lost on them, or perhaps they don’t care, it all so askew.

Those war crimes boasted of, they getting away with whatever they want (their way),
Shielded by an also morally bankrupt partner in crime, the U.S.A,
And those Western vassal states, whose silence has been deafening for the most part,
Backbone exchanged for self-serving subservience, gone their conscience, sick their heart.

By Lance Landall


This poem was penned 6 July 2025.

For more such poems, see my page: Humanity. Also check out the following revealing Israeli website:

https://www.btselem.org/

And this one too.

https://www.christianvoiceforpeace.org/

"When protesters are ridiculed and mistreated for standing up against genocide,
we're looking at an incoming tyrannical tide."

"We don't kill the bank staff in order to take out some robber."

"Biblical justifications for wounding and killing are simply what some errant Christians are selling."
The poet, author





23.  Media Soldiers


It’s time we saluted those journalists, reporters and media crew, who,
Bravely speak, print and show the facts, the truth, and who put their lives on the line too.
Yes, heroes and heroines indeed, who’ve risked their lives in the likes of Gaza,
Or paid the ultimate price, far from home, suburban life, or city plaza.

Yes, they having chosen the battlefield, seen the war crimes, exposed them to view,
They no mere channelers of the “official truth,” and nor stenographers too,
But fearless defenders of the whole truth, who’re oft targeted for their trouble,
That reality check that’s needed to burst many an ignorant bubble.

So yes, it’s time we saluted such brave, honest beings, keepers of the flame,
That light that shines despite any darkness and opposition, or wrongful blame.
Thus accusation or threat not holding them back, their gallant horse saddled up,
It watered and ready, no matter the road, no matter how bitter the cup.

Oh yes, they not channelers, echoers, or stenographers, and may it be
That their employers will remain as fearless too, thus not acting cowardly,
But rather, joining the media soldiers, who, though battle scarred, remain true,
Lest Earth be plunged into a darkness where even the faintest light won’t get through.

By Lance Landall


This poem was penned 31 December 2023.

Dedicated to the 248 media soldiers killed whilst on duty in Gaza,
and midst clear evidence of deliberate targeting.

"Real journalists act as agents of people, not power."
John Pilger (Daily Star, Bangladesh,16 January 2019).





24.  They Just Have No Idea Where It's At


It has to be said, given the truth of it, and the importance of it, that
The likes of Trump, Netanyahu and Putin, just have no idea where it’s at.
For them, it’s power, weaponry and money, personal interests, and why
What we see today is ill after ill, which they wrongly try to justify.

Their lives anything but an example of love, goodness and nobility,
But rather, vengefulness, tyranny, obsession, deceit and dishonesty.
Their world an unfeeling world, a harsh world, a cruel world, a violent world, and
A world where there’s no accountability, justice prevented, free speech banned.

These men create a Hell and not a Heaven, yet claim to know God — oh, the cheek!
Supplying and using bombs that kill the innocent, and why of guilt they reek.
There no God in this picture, but more a devil, hence the destruction and pain,
The chaos and suffering, the sheer wickedness — the barbarity insane.

The money they spend on weaponry in a world of starving kids is obscene,
The homeless and needy losing out too, yet tax breaks for the rich, and as for green,
Well, what’s green about warring, and what’s responsible about that growing debt?
But no, love, goodness and nobility being something that they just don’t get.

Hence that "off to war they go," that clamping down on liberty, what we might say,
Or do, which can cramp their style, their guile, they not liking those who get in their way.
Yes, it’s power, weaponry and money, personal interests, that they seek,
While the joints of the honest, hardworking, downtrodden, penalized, pain and creak.

Yes, they just have no idea where it’s at, as it was with Biden who bombed too,
’Cause, like I said, supplying bombs makes one just as guilty, good men seemingly few.
Most tarred with the same warmongering Biden, Trump, Netanyahu, Putin brush,
Which the preciousness of human life, and any thoughts of lasting peace, soon crush.

And as for Trump, he truly played for a fool by Putin and Netanyahu,
Having taken a shine to those who're similar to him, and thus well askew.
One wondering whose side he's really on, the U.S. all the worse off for him,
And with his disastrous handling of world relationships, things seem pretty grim,

But of course, who's behind him, and what information might some have over him?

By Lance Landall


This poem was penned 6 July 2025.

For more such poems as this one, see my pages: Wisdom And Truth Matter; Humanity; and World Concerns.
Also see my poem I Would Like A Word With You, Donald, which is found on my page The Truth About Love.

"Don't preach it if you're not living it."
The poet, author





25.  Unbelievable Madness


Spinning at sixteen hundred kilometres an hour, we are alone in space,
Dependant on each other, yet killing each other, thus laughing in fate’s face,
Because we’re fouling our planet too, and all when we’ve nowhere else to shift to,
The madness but unbelievable, and we not listening when spoken to.

Yes, despite the voices condemning the killing and destruction taking place,
Which means that somewhere down the track, baleful consequences we will have to face.
And if there’s a Creator, as I believe, there’ll be an accounting for it all,
Both humans and this planet His, whose gavel of justice is about to fall.

But meantime, we’re hurrying our end, and that “wine, women and song” of many,
Who thought to what’s beyond one’s life, this planet, simply haven’t given any.
Surely one would want to stretch any pleasure, lessen any ills that would spoil,
But no, onward with the killing and destruction, it seems, and all that turmoil.

Acting irresponsibly and recklessly brings afflictions, and they can be
Health issues, imprisonment, a ruined marriage, or shortened longevity.
And all why doing the wiser things, and showing love, thought and care, protects us,
Which, as I understand things, is the whole message of that Saviour called Jesus.

Yes, what goes ’round comes ’round, we either blessed or cursed by our doings, and things said,
Which is why acting maturely, kindly and fairly is plain using one’s head.
Though the truth is that our head’s really only right when our heart’s right, as it should be,
Because what might be around the corner? And what makes a man is decency.

Yes, that difference between wild beasts and humans — character, nobility,
Genuine love and affection — that behaviour that reveals integrity.
But back to that spinning planet of ours, a real miracle, if you ask me,
It hardly appearing out of nowhere — BANG! — but clearly created to be.

I mean, come on, our universe so mathematically precise, one thing out
And it would be curtains, so given our ignorance, what are we talking about?
Are we arrogant enough to think that we know it all, or just plain silly,
Thus treating it all with our usual casual flair, which is but folly.

By Lance Landall


This poem was penned 6 July 2025.

For more such poems, see my pages: Planet Earth; The Trouble With Tomorrow.

"Love is an open book, truth on every page."
The poet, author




THE TIMES HAVE SADLY CHANGED, THIS WORLD NOW QUITE DERANGED,
MANY THINGS REARRANGED, EVEN ERRANTLY EXCHANGED, OR DELIBERATELY
ARRANGED, AND WHY WE'VE BECOME ESTRANGED.






26.  Don't Force-feed


It’s one thing to raise your kids with a set of religious beliefs, but don’t force-feed,
Allowing them to question what they’re told, to check things out for themselves, to read,
And widely, to listen to what all have to say — yes, to do their own research,
Thus minding any zealot like approach, and certainly some self-righteous perch.

You may have your firm beliefs — based on thorough research, I hope — but whatever,
Still keep your mind open, allowing yourself to be challenged, locks not clever,
The former much wiser, more mature, and gracious, ’cause you could be wrong, you know,
Not the first to find such out, and why we need to mind whatever boat we row.

Christian-wise, it’s all about becoming Christ-like, not the letter of the law,
But character, as it should be with all, thus not taking one’s eye off the ball.
Yes, living your religion, not wearing your religion (like a Pharisee),
And thus walking the talk, love always first and foremost, one free of bigotry.

Your kids have their own minds, and others too, and therefore, the right to their own path;
In time, that is, when mature enough, like that weaned once-upon-a-time wee calf.
Force leading to rebellion, but persuasion giving cause for thought, the choice theirs,
It all about instilling love and goodness, not pointless rituals and fears.

By Lance Landall


"Christianity's not about  behaviour but an attitude that changes behaviour; It not being
a head knowledge but a heart experience that redirects the head."
The poet, author





Christian content or degree for the unbeliever to consider.


27.  Errant Christians In The Oval Office


Just in case you think it’s judging, the Bible says, “By their fruits you’ll know them,” so,
It’s telling us what to OBSERVE, how to come to a CONCLUSION, truly know.
In other words, and also, how to tell a true Christian from a false Christian,
Lest one be deceived, led astray, wolves not always outside, but sometimes within.

Hence that need to recognise what makes one a Christian, a genuine Christian,
’Cause there’s always those who aren’t what they profess to be, or who indulge in sin.
The latter hypocrites (just as doomed), the former but charlatans, those who lie
Whilst feigning, and then there’s those who aren’t truly converted, and why others sigh,

Like myself, realising the damage done to Christianity, and Jesus,
Who the genuine Christian should behave like, and in every way, and thus
It not Christianity at fault, but Christendom — people — who shame and stain,
Notably like we’ve seen in America, where power some have sought to gain.

Oh, the deceit, arrogance, lying, harshness, cruelty, bullying that we’ve seen,
Forget the constitution, rightful justice, and too bad about being green.
Now what would the creator God think of that, that God of love, care and mercy,
Who hardly endorses warmongering, and that profiting from weaponry?

Christians aren’t to be anywhere near violence, misuse of power, position,
Such all belonging in the past with persecution, and that inquisition.
And thus going by what we’re seeing, people being put off Christians, who here,
Via public office, are behind those raids and trumped up lawsuits, thus causing fear.

Yes, “By their fruits you’ll know them,” alright, though some Christians disguised in saintly attire,
No one sensing paedophilia, say, but God aware, and thus their state dire.
All why the genuine Christian needs to keep his or her eyes on Christ, and thus
In all things thinking, speaking and acting like the holy, righteous one, Jesus.

And thereby, they law keepers, humane, fair, impartial, loving, thoughtful, kindly,
Compassionate, generous, open, honest, selfless, trustable and friendly.
In other words, free of guile, vengefulness and savagery, thus good to all,
And caretakers of planet Earth, just like their first parents before their sad fall.

But even if one’s not a Christian, there’s no excuse for immaturity,
Bigoted, racist, unwise, reckless behaviour that mistreats humanity.
So all those prayers in the current Oval Office but an abomination,
Given the sheer hypocrisy and errant running of a once great nation.

“God bless America?” A devil impersonating Christ, maybe, but not
That Saviour who kept right out of politics; just Pharisees easy to spot.
Yes, zealots, like those who sought Christ’s death, and who now want to put their stamp on all,
And deludedly in God’s name, which reminds me of a zealot once named Saul.

Oh, how love flies out the window, that Christ-likeness, and when Christ offers us grace!
Something unseen come that political scene, but rather, a dreadful disgrace.
It straight for the jugular, with a few choice words thrown in, and see you in court,
A president setting a precedent, of which no sound Christian would’ve bought.

Christianity’s all about choice, not enforcement, which would adulterate,
And nor should any religion be favoured over another come the State.
The world being a mixed multitude, Christ’s kingdom coming after His return,
But erring, zealous Christians, like those Pharisees of old, never seem to learn.

The scandals that surround a number of these Trump idolising Christians here,
Should be warning enough to all, they following in Trump’s wake, devoid of fear.
And yet, creating fear in others, when God will be looking closely at them,
’Cause not all who say, “Lord, Lord,” we’re told, will be saved, for such as these, He’ll condemn

By Lance Landall


This poem was penned on 25 July 2025.

See my pages: Wisdom And Truth Matter; and The Truth About Love.

"Wrong is never greater than when it's covered in religious garb."

"There are things we should never entertain, and all why our brain has a passing lane."
The poet, author





Christian content or degree for the unbeliever to consider.

 

28.  There's A Reason


There’s a reason why I’ve hope beyond this world, not that I’m into doom and gloom,
But honestly, where’s hope found here? We actually looking at gloom and doom.
Right now this world’s in a mess, warmongering on steroids, so too the far-right,
Hence that authoritarianism we’re seeing, darkness replacing light.

Oh yes, truth, freedom and justice under attack, fools oft in charge of countries,
Aiding and abetting those wars, wasting money the needy one never sees.
The obscenely rich getting richer, oppression alive and well, and so too,
Racism, bigotry and corruption, it all on the News, and right in view.

Yes, even this poem under threat, freedom of expression slowly being choked,
And journalists shot at, even though in the right direction, their fingers poked;
Journalists true to their calling, that is, not cowardly stenographers, who
Parrot some official lie, thus just as guilty of seeing things go askew.

And so, my hope being in the Bible’s God of love, a Saviour, by the way,
Shamed by much supposedly done in His name, Christendom having gone astray.
Yet Christianity taking the rap, genuine Christians too, rather than
The religious hypocrite or zealot, who here, rather than God, stands for man.

And yes, such putting people off God, His loving message and wisdom shut out,
That offer of mercy — amazing grace — which is what that cross was all about.
Yes, His truths important to Him, and to be upheld, but not at love’s expense,
And all why those un-Christ-like Christians, come His judgment hour, will have no defence.

So as far as I’m concerned, and all the looking into things I’ve done, it’s clear
To me, that God is the only answer, friend, there being nothing else out there.
The Bible having a sound pedigree, and has proven true time and again,
Those end-time revelations right on track, those evil doings of cunning men.

Oh yes, this world’s in a mess alright, and the reason being (that’s getting worse)
Is the deterioration of character, and we all under that curse.
Crime rampant, and now Nature running amuck, this old world slowly breaking down,
And all why I would exchange those soiled rags for a grace bestowed heavenly gown.

What have we to lose? The Bible is all about walking rightly, and therefore,
Even if God wasn’t real, we’d still benefit greatly from keeping his Law.
His Word telling us not to harm or injure anyone, not to lie or steal,
Nor to cheat or deceive, but to treat all kindly, imagining how we’d feel.

And if God is real, as I firmly believe, we will have no reason for fear,
But only those who choose to live contrary, given what justice will reveal here.
And such is fair, for why should evildoers get off scot-free, their victims dead,
Or having suffered greatly, and there’s that hatred that’s found in many a head.

All why God has told us to rid ourselves of selfishness, rudeness, vanity,
Arrogance, spitefulness and cruelty, all being destructive, such clear to see.
We exchanging such for compassion, mercy, gentleness, sensitivity,
Thoughtfulness, humbleness, opting instead for nobleness and integrity.

Character, actually, what Christians call Christ-likeness, a sound heart and mind,
The old creature becoming a new creature, one’s conscience and Heaven aligned.
And even should love take over this old world, it’s coming apart at the seams,
But we know love won’t take over this world, it too full of trickery and schemes.

And so, evil’s ultimate plan — cunning global control of all — must play out,
That all may see what Satan’s really been up to — yes, what it’s truly about.
God’s long-time cruel adversary having wanted what belongs to God alone,
And prior to Christ’s return, will work deceptively to fool all, his heart like stone.

And hence those signs and wonders he’ll perform via human agencies, and so on,
He no doubt impersonating Christ at some stage, wanting true followers gone.
Yes, those who’re not only true to God’s Word, but Christ-like (not zealots, hypocrites),
And hence any coming attacks on them, they always having received his hits.

But that’s always the cost in a corrupt world, a world in which the devil reigns,
Though not for much longer, Christ soon removing him, that suffering, those aches and pains.
Yes, ill and evil gone forever, but meantime, more ill to come, and finally
Christ appearing in the sky with thousands of angels — yes, majestic glory.

Imagine it! Paradise ushered in, peace and harmony forever more,
Something too amazing to miss out on — yes, absolute happiness in store.
All why there’s a reason why I’ve hope beyond this world, and all its doom and gloom;
Those who’ve accepted Christ rising up to meet Him, though first, the saved in their tomb.

Yes, I’ve never heard of a better answer to our predicament, and thus
I not putting my trust in any man, but a loving Saviour called Jesus.
He the creator of our planet, which one day in beauty will be restored,
Everything renewed and healed, and why I will remain faithful to that lord.

By Lance Landall

This poem was penned 6 July 2025.

For more such poems, see my pages: Apologetics; Wisdom And Truth Matter.

"Time is a thief that ends in grief, and hence that need of a hope-filled belief."
The poet, author




+    +   +   +   +   +



Love's power is really only seen where it's full and real, where
another's suffering we truly recognise and feel.

Where there's no love, there's no mercy, where there's no mercy, there's no
forgiveness, and where there's no forgiveness, there's no peace.



"When love is in the heart, and the mind is well, there's no desire to harm or kill,
but rather, a desire to protect and spare, and to show loving thought and care."
The poet, author





LOVE FOR OTHERS SHOULD BE OUR NATURAL BENT,
AND SUCH IN MOTION BUT OUR SCENT.


VALUE DIFFERENT OPINIONS, RESPECT THE BELIEFS OF OTHERS, DRAW FROM MANY
SOURCES, DO YOUR OWN HOMEWORK, LISTEN MORE THAN TALK, QUESTION MORE THAN
DISAGREE, CAREFULLY CONSIDER THINGS BEFORE DISMISSING THEM (KEEPING SOME THINGS
AT THE BACK OF YOUR MIND), ALLOW YOURSELF TO BE CHALLENGED, KEEP AN OPEN MIND,
ALWAYS DEPART AMICABLY, ENJOY A RANGE OF FRIENDS, MIX WITH EVERYONE, AND BE
HUMBLE, IMPARTIAL, FAIR AND REALISTIC.


BEHIND EVERYTHING
 — DEBATE, CONCERN, ADVICE, INSTRUCTION, IMPLEMENTATION, CENSURE, PENALTY —
 THERE SHOULD BE LOVE.





"We either fly on the wings of love's goodness, or slither on the belly of hatred's evil."

"Love is proven by its hatred of wrong, and its shrillness regarding truth,
justice, and freedom's song."
The poet, author


The only way to turn this world around is to turn ourselves around.

As we love, so we rise; as we hate, so we sink.

Love needs people and people need love.






+    +   +   +   +   +




Where

Where someone violates someone, there is seen:
A heart that is clearly well astray,
An action that's a dead giveaway,
A character flaw or trait at play,
An impulse that one shouldn't obey,
Outright black, and not some shade of grey,
An act that is never seen to pay,
What karma's often seen to repay,
Evil's possible next protégé,
Potential greater ill on its way,
A victim who clearly had no say,
A memory that will ever stay,
An example that ill will convey,
What justice should rightfully weigh,
A lesson not learnt from yesterday,
Just another tragic earthly day,
Due to fallen human DNA,
Still blotting life's age-old resume,
Where evil's wickedness has once again been.

 By Lance Landall


For more poems regarding similar content, see my pages: 
The Evil Of Violence; Hurting; and Love, Thought And Care.


 

Ode To Canaries

Certain necessary things that are needing to be said,
Wrench my aching heart and torture my anxious head,
But there are those for whom such things should still be said,
Who’re badly mistreated, and some already dead,
And all why my concerned heart is feeling like lead,
Though my convicting conscience still otherwise led,
And thus I often feeling strained and sometimes scared,
’Cause those who mistreat, or boast of the number dead,
Don’t want condemnatory revelations said,
And in the direction of canaries soon head,
Thus I mistreated too, or soon amongst the dead,
And yet, those revealing things needing to be said,
That my heart may feel at peace, and so too my head,
For where’s the caring in leaving such things unsaid?
And guilt and shame having a very heavy tread.

By Lance Landall

Canaries (whistleblowers being the modern equivalent) are very important to society
given that they warn of, or reveal, what is very injurious to us, or others, but hidden from
view or disguised. Such canaries often detect the early and subtle signs of ill.

For poems regarding standing up and speaking out, especially given today's climate,
see my page: This World And Us.

"Truth is what tyrants and evil hate and fear, what they don't want us to know;
see, read or hear."
The poet, author




+    +   +   +   +   +





And like I said, not just poetry.





THIS WORLD APPEARS TO BE HARDWIRED, BECAUSE...


Things often SHOCK.
There’s usually some CURRENT trend.
People get CHARGED for, or over things.
SPARKS often fly between couples.
Sometimes the atmosphere in a room is ELECTRIC.
Many get a BUZZ out of things.
Some people have short FUSES.
Some people are very SWITCHED on.
Some people get their WIRES crossed, or are considered a LIVE WIRE.
Some people can feel a sudden SURGE of POWER.
Some people choose to be a CONDUCTOR.
Some people are fortunate enough to get a public relations PLUG.
Many busy people suffer from OVERLOAD.
A lot of talented people do the CIRCUIT, though some illness being a CIRCUIT BREAKER.
Some people aren’t very EARTHED.
Some people go through a certain CYCLE or PHASE.
There’s often a SPIKE in certain behaviour, and some people METER out punishment where there’s RESISTANCE.





+    +   +   +   +   +





POEM WISE, ON MY WEBSITE YOU'LL FIND:

Rhyming poetic stories;
Rhyming poems;
Ground breaking rhyming poems in the sense that they bridge the gap between poetry and prose with their varying longer lines (depending on the poem, of course), thus freeing poetry from its somewhat rigid constraints;
Alternative rhyming poems, poetry and prose fusions, or simply prose (all marked by few full stops, somewhat rap like, but not so). These all have an orange title, and have also been presented in bolder print; and
Capitalised alternative poetry or prose which is treated somewhat differently, and is generally untitled.
All in all, poetry that simply does its own thing.


Anything on this page may or may not be found elsewhere on my website, and
might be replaced and put elsewhere at anytime.
Some religious content appears in some secular poems on my website where
I felt it was necessary and unavoidable given the subject matter. Otherwise, my
poems are simply built on logic, fact, sense and reality.

The pages that contain my poems and their subject matter, I call my POEM BOXES,
and sometimes a particular poem is repeated elsewhere.

For general notes regarding my poems, and the usage of my work, see my page
Author's Pen which is found on my page Yours Sincerely.





Yes, poetry and prose that shouts, confronts, questions, rouses, informs, pleads, shares,
inspires, encourages, heartens, empathises, weeps, sighs, smiles and sees love as being the only answer.

Poetry and prose that takes no sides but that of all who have been wrongly accused or mistreated, and whatever that wrong may be.

Poetry and prose that pulls no punches and strips away the veneer whilst scratching where it itches; That takes its jacket off, rolls its sleeves up and doesn't stop until the job is done; That rhymes with the times and runs the gamut of emotions and experiences; That searches the heart, examines the mind and assesses the soul; That deals with harsh realities and meets people where they are; That doesn't think to save its own skin; That deals with both sides of the coin; That tests, proves and sorts while really caring.