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Best Irony Poems

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Details | Irony Poem | |

Devils Deadly Dime

Devils deadly dime

The sign said no grown-up at the playground.
Tripping on a penny, like a mime!
My hand is in my pocket with the dime I found.
Its all mine, I asked for the devils hand that time.
Echoes in my head, bounded by a screaming sound.
Paying for a forgotten crime,
on what comes around goes around.

A prison with greed that carries an evil musical chime.
Jumping off the merry-go-round!
Encouraged by the devil,
 the pleasure of his deadly nursery rhyme. 
Now the world is measured by my blood level.

The devils delight feasted on my youth before I hit my prime.
Bashing my mind, with thoughts implanted by evil.
Entering the day with no beauty to my sublime.
Begging him to remove this anvil!

He laughed while he cursed me with a favor for a favor.
A fallout so violently in this world not civil.
One can only lust on the taste that only he can savor.
Hanging out  by the swings wounding me with prey,
on two victims to his delicious flavor.
I climb my way to teach a lesson in hate not love.
Two siblings who always scream for each other.
Giggling as I offered each a push and a shove.
Stopping they give each other a big hug.
Defeating and proving love is a stronger disease
The devil wicked eyes looking  at me like a bug.
Clawing at my inner guts with remorse that he will win this war.
Until another day one skips the penny, 
and begs a poor fool like the devil for his dime.
Tossing heads for his tail when times hits rock bottom.
I will stray away from his deadly reaction time.
He will not own my soul so freak'em,
and his greedy deadly beg of a dime.


by;pd

Details | Irony Poem | |

The Joy Killing Poet

**Back smile/smile Back **

With your heads way up your :]ssa[: 
You will never accomplish the win
I got shots that will protect me from your rabid ways
After you fell into a non-stop falling disease, 
Your movements weakened
Straight from a dried up well, 
Every day you frolic in a disorder that causes more brain damage 
With progressive mental retardation 
You continue to lick the top of your cleft lips

He is the saddest sadist human that ever lived!
So sad he has to live with himself every night
Kissing his young ones Goodnight 
In ways I can't even breathe to tell
The way he follows rabbits down the bunny hole
Killing each laughing hare
Wiping smiles, leaning in, 
The madness in Alice's Wonderland 
Madder and Madder The Hatter
Revealing
Your boldness is nothing more than baldness
A man in a monkey suit
Molesting the minds of his idiotic circle, 
Trying to kill the joy, not knowing
We don't care about his false Harvard WAY
I rather stay here dropping out, than pretending
Following his made-up perception, a cropped out waste
His taste, my best copypaste, he jacked on
A stench, they left behind when open mouths laugh
He educates by attacking women better than his own
Silently to the top of his knife, he stalks nakedly
Removing a few poems he plagiarized
His Poorness, brought many to donate to the salvation of his army
Sadness Delivered by the Joy Killing Poet and his little pigs

Cross My heart and hope to die!!!

~SKAT~

Details | Irony Poem | |

The Unknown

-"x+2 = 4"-

Enigmas of the soul
Do you know how it feels?

Never tasted before
Invisible Sun


PD

Details | Irony Poem | |

You and I and I and You

You, who are so perfect in my eyes, so beautiful- adorable, and I, so flawed, ugly, damaged and crawling with defects; why do you enjoy my company? 

You, who are so sleek and slender, humming with a quiet intellect and a serenity about you, and I, so grossly overweight and pretentiously boastful and nervous; how can you abide my company?

You, who are a paragon of patience, so understanding and self-assured, and I, so insanely impulsive, so myopic and brimming with self-doubt; how do you stand my company?

You, who are so sweet, so considerably kind, so thoughtful and generous, and I, so bitter, so selfish, so self-absorbed; why do you choose my company?

You, who are so self-composed, full of self-control, so sound and stable, and I, so very neurotic, so completely compulsive and verily volatile; how can you tolerate my company?

You, who are so diligent, so driven and ambitious, so achieving, and I, so lackadaisically lazy, so uninspired, so complacent; why do you settle for my company?

You, who are ethical, so moral, so very virtuous, and I, so corrupt, so unprincipled, so wholly wicked; how can you endure my company?

You, who are so normal, so well-adjusted, so conventional, and I, so maniacal, so unbalanced and irrational; why do you condone my company?

You, who are bubbling with charm, who loves unconditionally and is absolutely accepting, and I, boiling with rage, fueled by misanthropy and incredibly intolerant; how can you welcome my company?

That you love and accept me for who and what I am, is a treasure beyond measure. I cherish your company, but why you cherish mine is something I cannot fathom. All I know is that I love you, my dear, beloved friend.

**This was written for two very dear friends: Karen and Tommy :)
***I also love palindromes ;)

*****FREE VERSE OLD AND NEW ENTRY

Details | Irony Poem | |

The birds

The birds! The birds!

Uncountable the subject pronoun words
give tongue to humbleness, henceforth to speak;
contributing to poetry for birds,
our inspiration nested on their beak!

He's watching leaping sparrows eating bread,
while on his terrace sips green Ceylon chai;
it seems to him that poetry has fled,
and gone with the banditos, bidding "byee".

Alas! The birds have taught us all we know,
encyclopedic, scientific, art...
Cause he would not be 'mong ya apropos,
if poetry was meant to be more smart:

{ Thy Tristan I shall be, divine Izolde;
thus, like a bird of valor, debonair,
I'll fly to thee, because I have been told,
that someday I'll become a billionaire.

Among the birds, oh maid, I picture thee
abducted by banditos (or eloped?)
thus I, compose my poetry to be
reminder of the corns that have not popped.

And thus, envisioning, thy magic curves,
I'll be a triumphant filibustier,
my self-igniting foolish verse, and oeuvres,
will reach (oh, dolly bird) thy round derriere.

And then, if not for other, thus, demand,
my manuscripts will serve a strident cause,
vociferous upon the meadowland,
by the banditos will receive applause. }
 
© 02-18-2014, G. Venetopoulos
(Iambic Pentameter)
G.V.

Details | Irony Poem | |

of love of war

of love of war
the staff of a prophet, seen fairness not imagine, sings shouting out, obscenity recognized, yet in search of fame, seeking stance the moment arises, seek of voice of power, godsend renown supremacy, yet prophet not acknowledged, kept desire of a great life, sought skill of voice, articulate hardly ever, cheek no longer free, famous self seldom bite snarls dogma, link of country of faith, kinship all that’s true, fair play desired fame acknowledged, pent the home front, covetousness war or peace love or hate, just yelp puppy love, nice _________________________| Penned on September 28, 2014!

Details | Irony Poem | |

Vitrine-mannequin on a Winter night I

Mannequin

Dependent was and amorous obsession 5.5
in burning desert, fresh canteen 4
his sidewalk's fantasy and thoughts' digression, 5.5
the strongest coffee's roasted bean 4
(their phantasms met beyond projectors' light). 5

Exquisite stood upfront, unmoving posture,
distressing emptiness of soul,
unreachable resort her sightly stature,
(- expending skies and ozone hole),
prêt à porter vitrine, on Winter's night.

Behind the glass, a still and standing shadow
abates his hopes (gray sky suspends),
( he takes his foolish stance of wooden scarecrow,
- that through odd sprawls the fields attends ),
was she the blessing of the Gods or else?...

His allegorical, but lonely feeling,
instilled inside, without defect,
while speechless phantoms crossed sky's ceiling,
the downpour soaked, warmth to reject,
(ersatz their wedlock's knolling, fast dispels).

Her uppish, elegant of stance, adjacent,
within arm's reach, kind of abstruse,
albeit abstained, of secular indulgence,
(his head acquired a tilt obtuse),
invited him through faultless, charming lies.

A brass trumpet dispersed its jazzy spieling,
he, thoughtless, leaned on some red booth,
adored her raised one hand's refined appealing,
(- that altruistic, smiling tooth!),
and gazing to the stars but vacant eyes!...

© G.V. 11-16-2013, All Rights Reserved

(Iambic Quintain following 5.5, 4, 5.5, 4, 5 feet on each stanza. 
The rhyme scheme follows this pattern: 
ABABC DEDEC, FGFGH, IJIJH ... and so on.)
(Allegory, Humor)


Details | Irony Poem | |

No Deposit, No Return


Your wishes can't regain,
A thrill so long ago. 
To once again reclaim 
A past you wouldn't know. 

You view a different dance, 
With unfamiliar tune 
You pine for lost romance, 
Yet treasure not the Moon.




Meter - Iambic Trimeter (Cataletic).
A-B, A-B Rhyme.
 
Gene Bourne.
06-11-14




.

 

Details | Irony Poem | |

Mr Grey

MR. GREY I wonder how I ever graduated from high school. It seems to me I did not hold the knowledge. To mold a literary genius from a literal fool, I’m sure requires a hundred years of college. All that notwithstanding, Mr. Grey was quite demanding. For English Lit, I have him to thank. I couldn’t spell Orthelo(?), and when asked about Longfellow and Thoreau, I said, “I know - they’re both named Hank!” He grew so animated, each time that he related the epic battles of the ancient Huns. Yet I couldn’t understand why I was sent to see ‘the man’, when I asked him why they didn’t use their guns? And the years went slowly passing, though I just barely did, but through it all he measured me quite fair. Like Hemingway and Emerson, he endured it all, but in the end, like them, he had gray hair. Later in my life, when reflecting on his zeal, I was sure he’d be Ambassador at Large. So words just can’t express the deep sadness I did feel, when I found him, working cars in some garage. I approached him timidly, wondering if he would see that it was I who was the cause of his sad fate. Thinking, “Maybe I can tell him how his wisdom changed my life,” but when he saw me, I sensed it was too late. Recognition seemed to flicker in his eyes that summer day, as he looked at me, then quickly, he looked down, and his voice ripped through my soul as he spoke the words quite coldly, “Well bless me, if it isn’t the class clown!” “You caused me so much grief; I just couldn’t find relief, my sanity just dwindled toward the end. So here I stand quite broken, my memories the token of a life that once was rich and full, my friend.” My eyes just filled with sorrow, and I wished that I could borrow someone else’s shoes to stand in for a while. But as I turned to leave, I barely did perceive near the corners of his mouth, the slightest smile. “I had you on the run,” he said, “you earned that much, my son, but as for all the rest, you need not panic. Things aren’t always as they seem, you see, the prose was just a scheme to fulfill my lifelong dream as a mechanic!”

Details | Irony Poem | |

I WANT TO CLIMB YOU : PINNACLE

One day I started climbing; without question I climbed. Until finally I had reached the peak of Mt. Everest. I wanted to beat my breastbone yell like Tarzan King of the Apes. But... I saw a tree. IT! was the highest peak. I climbed. “Ta da"! But... there was an escarpment, higher. I climbed. Once again I... But... Stairs, stairs at the end of the land. I climbed Reached the top of the stairs. But... I saw a huge bird. “I can go higher” I told myself. I reached up with my arms, miraculously the bird accepted my hands. We reached the space beyond Earth's pull; there my magical friend released me. I kept floating up until I reached a tunnel in space, a hole on an incline that led up. I climbed! For an eternity, maybe longer. The higher I got... nothing. An enormous amount of nothing. I was going nowhere and I was doing it in record time. Then... Then I stopped. I mean I hit the brakes, reflected on my journey. The wildlife? Had I done damage? The escarpment? What was the vegetation, were there flowers? I should of gone barefoot felt the land under my feet; smelled the coffee. Were those really stairs I climbed? Was it friends and associates I was stepping on? I opened my eyes. The climb was like trying to walk to the end of the horizon. All leading to more vast “I don’t know what” but definitely up. “No!” I said aloud. “So what!” I whispered. So... I slid down the best slide you ever saw. I felt like a child again, I could see, smell, feel and hear, I could taste the sweetness of freedom in the air. I love sweets. So... Now, back to my land I plant myself firmly. I am one with all, a Giant Redwood surrounded by other Redwoods. I am at peace. Here, at the bottom of everything is my highest point. I bask in the heat of the sun. Feed from the richness of the land. Drink the cold water gifted to me by the skies above. What an incredible sense of strength I feel comfortable in my own bark. Just happy to be rooted. Now... I am the smallest tree But... growing. Fulfilled, satisfied just “to be”!
09/20/2014

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