Best Addicting Poems


Poetry Soap

It’s almost time and I must run
to watch/read Poetry Soap for fun.
It comes on every day at this time
and I don’t want to miss a single rhyme.
Some are about a long-lost lover
written by a secret poet undercover.
Some are about jealousy and some about trust
with rhyming lines filled with lust.
Competition is part of their game
with bards and musicians hiding their name.
They covet a prize and praise galore
laid at their feet and virtual door.
But when Poet A falls in love with Poet B
you can bet there’ll be flaming words from Poet C.
Or when Poet D gets Poem of the Day
Poet E will have something to say.
Sometimes it’s fun to read the rhymes of hate
whenever I can’t sleep and stay up late.
Battles of wits,
Poets who have fits,
Some who sing,
Some who sting.
Magical flights to lands of old
written with passion and pens of gold.
But it’s the humble ones I adore
whose words are pure, their egos left at the door.
Each episode an unending story 
with poets and their pets seeking glory.
It’s addicting like dope.
I don’t want to miss today’s episode of Poetry Soap.

By:  Carole O’Terry Duet
Copyright:  9/26/2017
“All Rights Reserved”
Categories: addicting, abuse, conflict, jealousy, love,
Form: Couplet

Premium Member I Love

I Love . . .

to snuggle in my bed, no one around,
the purring of my cat the only sound.
And whether near a window streaming light
or with a lamp nearby me late at night,
I hold within my hands all boredom’s cure,
for I’m embarking on a magic tour.

I might be visiting a queen and king
while on my way to find a hidden ring.
Dark knights attack. Before the tale is done,
I am a hairy hobbit on the run!
Fear, though, is addicting. Oh, heart be still!
I’m chased through pages of a book. The thrill!

So many kinds of places I can go.
So many kinds of characters to know.
To ancient times on any given day
I might end up and then be swept away. . .
a slave girl who is yearning for the chance
to be set free and even find romance!

At other times, I’m in a mystery
or in a crazy person’s mind I’ll be!
When lost in a good plot, I just can’t wait
to finish up and know my hero’s fate.
To live another life I only need
to open up a book and start to read! 

Written Feb. 20, 2017
Now used for Maureen McGreavy's What I Love Poetry Contest
Categories: addicting, books,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member ~ Bye ~ : -(

.     ~ BYE ~

Its time to say bye! 
I have no reason why?

This site was fun from day to day.
Poetry came in a fun way of play.

Goodbye to all my friends.
Don't worry this won't be the end.

Maybe later I will be back.
With a better nit knack.

I never believed in writers block.
But I've been accused of hanging out with this flock.

Now I know writers block is true.
I will miss every single one of you.

Later I will explain things  in my blog.
How the soup is an addicting hog.

Who knows how long it will take p.d. to post again.
I will always come back and read all my favorite poet friends.

To all my commenter's or he & she that placed me as a favorite poet.
WOW! To all my comments and you know it.

Even the poets I never got the chance to know.
Thank you all for making my poetry grow.

Right now it's time to say bye!
Every now and than I will say Hi!

Everyone sooner or later has to rock & roll.
This is my cue to go!

Always BY; P.D.
Categories: addicting, dedication, friendshipfun, time,
Form: Couplet

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member You Gotta Have Heart

Tag words: advertising, bebop, bird, bottle, Charlie 
Parker, Coca-Cola, Cole Porter, Dizzy Gillespie,
door, flag, heart, jazz, light bulb, Louis Armstrong,
Miles Davis, palette, Pepsi Cola, pluralism – found
object, retablo painting, sculpture

Arbitrary or subconscious, Saunders picked six.
Man created on the sixth day from darkness;
we came into the light, of knowing, of naming.
Satan, sin held within, black of skin. Oh,
Africa chopped up bleeding, the third world’s
doors shown black, nailed shut. With the skin
of drums, the heel of hand, he pounds the nails
on the trail of the carpenter.

Kept in place, biblical wives of Lot turned to salt,
white-line the globe. White powder, white power,
sugars the unpalpable, addicting, coca leafs and 
caffeine, doping the public, the poor for dimes. 
Reinforcing the lure of the bottle; the cola bottle 
that fell unbroken to earth from the sky in The 
God’s Must Be Crazy. Some have always used their
addictions to create. Like a found objects, we too
fall calling to Mother Mary.



After: The Gift of Presence Raymond Saunders 1993
First Published by Ekphrastic Art:writing and art on art and writing

*Lot the nephew of Abraham, husband of Edith
who was turned to salt.
Categories: addicting, art,
Form: Ekphrasis

Has It Been a Year Already-I Added a Few More

As thephilosopher  readies for his p soup anniversary 
Remembering he found this place last Christmas Day
Surely the best gift he did receive
Now for some holiday fun, DON”T LEAVE

Denise Narayadu I can't end the line with her name
To mispronounce it with a bad rhyme would be a shame
Her writing has very much intrigued me
In her poems often it's myself that I see

Of Anne Lise Andressen what can I toast
She's in a contest of which Debbi G is the host
Of who Santa Clause is her knowledge has a lack
If she asked I could easily have told her it's Jack

I mean look at Jack, white beard, hair a jolly feller
If my put my original line here, I'd be locked in a cellar
Any American could mistake Canada for the north pole
It's cold, I've never been there and at times there's a lot of snow

Jack Ellison in his Santa role this time of year
Oh from the straight and narrow often does he veer
Constant approval from the p soup ladies, I know he smiles
If I was Santa his naughty list would stretch for miles

Andrea D secretly a hater of the Villanelle
That’s atrocious what’s my basis you say
She hosted a contest and a thousand forms she will allow
BUT a max of 12 lines leaves me saying CHINGADO

PD, the SWEETEST poet destroyer she told me
A philosopher asks how sweet a destroyer can be
The poet in me reads her work with much confusion
The imagery addicting but my understanding a delusion

Becca Lucas the girl who lost her muse
If she had schizophrenia she may have several to lose
However several other problems this would pose
If one of them was mean I may be a victim of her prose

FJ Thomas gave me the wonderful gift of the Fibonacci
She might deserve a song but my muse isn’t Liberace
She wrote the Art of Being Broken, a deep piece but not long
Did some guy really leave a comment quoting a poison song
 
And finally I will close with Richard Lamoureux
If you haven’t seen his clerihew read it TODAY
Quiet humorous, he pokes fun with affection
His first clerihew was a work of perfection

Yes on a few new names Wayland did call
Unfortunately he still hasn’t got to them all
Some he intentionally won’t mention
It’s Christmas Eve and he seeks no dissention
Categories: addicting, dedication, funny,
Form: Clerihew

Premium Member The Love of Nature

At times, the feel of the sun on my whole body is delicious
How warm, how comforting, how addicting
Of the sun's rays I shall never have enough
Why, amidst life's harsh darting arrows
The warmth of the sun is like a protective umbrella!

At other times, the caress of the wind is arousing
It tends to guide me towards adventure
It tends to bid me to listen to its call
To imagine that somewhere, on high grounds
It can take the form of hot air balloons and just swipe me away!

More, each time, the touch of the rain feels soothing
The flames that inhabit my body die out
And cooled off, I can shake my toils away
And smile at life
As if I were its own queen!

And of course, the wet and cold grass is inviting
On it, I do feel like reclining
For as long as my free time shall allow me to
Grass, smelling like the paths of the other worlds
Bid me to smile, at nothing and no one in particular!

Pray, to enjoy the display of nature
I have chosen to remain unattached 
And carefree
Unburdened, even if this implies
That I shall have to be penniless!

Yes, there, scotched on the mountain side, I get to dream
Of flying like birds
Of flying without wings
Of swimming in torrid waters
Of touching the moon, while keeping my feet on Earth!

Pray, I shall not get home tonight
I shall sit and wait on the mountains for the moon to show up
Who knows, I might turn into a werewolf
Or meet a romantic vampire
Who knows where my nature-bent imagination shall take me?
Categories: addicting, mountains, nature,
Form: Free verse


8 Minutes

Diamonds scrape the surface of my skin
Leaving cuts that shine red ruby blood that follows
So addicting, beauty, what lies beneath us all
We search for this illusion
You stand an illusion yourself
Ticking time bombs rest at the bottom of this bodiless ocean
Take me higher, rising to the surface, waves crash, changes pull me under
Over and over I fall, over and over I fall
Like it's never happened before
I breathe in this water you call death
I'm surrounded by a sea that forever drowns
Even the moon couldn't pull me from this current
And I wait, I wait
At the bottom of this ocean
Apathy, oh apathy, no hate, just apathy
We all fall down
Now seeing blue skies
Open me up, breathe me in
My lungs full of smoke,
Breathe me in, I'll take you higher
Pull me out, I'll take you higher
I am yours to keep,
Take me higher
Categories: addicting, adventure, me, me,
Form: Free verse

My Life.

My life gets so off course, and spins out of control, like a magical tornado.
My life, to me, is my own death race.
Don’t ask me how or why I look at this way.
I know my life is not great, but I love it as is.
My life, is wrong beyond compare, but its so right too.
My life never comes to a positive road.
My life , is addicting in so many ways.
My life is very regretful, well for many people. I do not regret one damn thing about it.
My life, is my life and I would not change anything in it.
My life is my life and I love everything about it!
I hate my life.  Maybe it could spin into control. 
  


not about me. I just thought of it.
Categories: addicting, depressionlife, life, love,
Form: Dramatic Verse

Feelings

“ Heads down, Begin your test, If you don’t understand just raise your hand. 
Continue to listen, percentage is given. 


Black or blue all this is true, no matter what I had, I want you. Take your time to read and evaluate every situation or distractions as they come and you will start to see what your smile and laugh really does to someone. 
Thick or thin you are the most addicting thing, 
Kiss or cuddle your my type of trouble,
close or far I have never fell this hard. Distance to time apart I’ll  always give you my other half.
draft copys can always get rewritten but never could these butterflies or feelings.
Categories: addicting, change, girlfriend, i miss
Form: Free verse

Pove Loem

my beautiful drug.

oh, how filled with heartbreaking joy i am to feel your addicting lovelinesss

if i said i hated your guts, i'd be lying and you'd know it.

         purely unspoken. thats how it works.
you're the daisy to my chain,
the beam to my moon,
the words to my sentences,
the smile to my face,
the ephemeral clouds to my sky,
the thing to my every.

what more can i say?
can i live without you?

i hope that
i never have to find out

darling, you asked 
and i replied.


combine all the beautiful words in the dictionary,
the dazzling, aching hollowness one feels when they cry with laughter,
and a melody that makes you shiver with wonderment

                               
                                                 and now you know what i feel
                                                      when i look at you.
Categories: addicting, love, sadwords, beautiful, beautiful,
Form: Free verse

Special 'You'

Eyes so lifeless, gone is the sparkle.
Limbs so frail, like living after a disaster. 
The only remedy, you, lie so far on the other shore of the ocean.
In the depths of my heart, prevails the core of my unkempt emotions.

.

I shriek in agony, your name over n over 
intoxicated with a sweet poison, 
I can't have enough of your thoughts, circling my mind's horizon.

So addicting, so infusing 
The aura of your persona pulls me closer.
In the depths of your eyes as they shackle me in desperation. 
You keep me bound to my loyalty for another sulking season.

.

Leaping through the time, growing up together. 
Second by second, minute by minute;
The feeling grows fold by fold.
Flaring, thriving, never aging 
Three fold is my love for you, than the first time you made your appearance.

How many days how many tears,
How many people have passed by.
But the only person left the impression was you, I like.

On a whim or some occassions you do still cross my mind.
I wonder on a side note, if I'm the same to you as you are special to my conscience.

I am writing a poem dedicated to you.
But will you ever care enough, to spare me a glance, when I am burdened by my emotions?
Amidst all the chaos,
Will you ever hold me, if I were to break into a thousand pieces, out of insanity? 
Will you ever be there to pull me out, if I was drowing, in the dumps of agony?
Will you ever reciprocate my feelings, I have been carrying for you since our whole journey? 

Will you ever do? 

Will you?

.

.

.

.

.

.

I can see your back, facing my front.
I wished you would stay, I wish you would look back.
But you keep walking ahead, wearing what emotions I wonder. 
I wish you would let me be your companion so we would overcome the hurdles, 
hand in hand together.
But you so blinded, I am aware.

I am counting the days as they pass endlessly,
But you drift further n further;

.

.

.

I am standing alone ashore, my heart in my hands. 
Feelings for you still pouring like a fountain.
Encompassed by numbing solitude. 
My eyes so lifeless, have lost the sparkle. 
My limbs so frail, they tread no further.
The crashing waves sucking away all the life force, plausible.
You still make me long for something impossible. 

?
Categories: addicting, longing, loss, lost, love,
Form: Rhyme

You and Me

Yell at me, put me down
Scream at me, I'll show a frown
Love me, I'll love you
Adore me, and I'll obsess you

Why don't we see the problem
Till the situation is at it's end
Why don't we see the problem
and some times just pretend

What is your reason for words
Fighting me with them every second
What is your reason for words
when we say we love each other and blend

Why can't we always solve them
The situation doesn't have a cure
Why can't we always solve them
The ones where you walk away to lock in a stir

Why do you fly with birds
To escape diseased problems and what they lack
Why do you fly with birds
Our answers are never coming back

The Problem is our questioning of love
I love you no matter what, even when push comes to shove
I love your eyes and their addicting sight
your mouth, your lips my love will put up a fight

Don't ever question
Were better than those who do
I'm sorry if you wanted me to say something more
But It's kind of hard to do on Que
© Jake Brown  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: addicting, loveme, love, me,
Form:

Found

When nothing seems to go your way.
No matter how hard you try things couldn’t get any worse.
Life has thrown things at you but nothing like this.
Thinking this is the last straw before it’s all over.
Instead you trip over and fall into an endless drop.
Unable to breathe the world crashes down on you.
Leaving you no where to scream and hide.
All the hurt and pain you feel inside cries out for help.
Unable to fill the hole that burns down in you’re heart.
Through out the years you have tried to fill it with temporarily things.
Lies, anger, lust and addicting things drove you in the wrong direction.
It’s time to turn around from the past.
You searched high and low to fill the hole.
But the whole time you’ve been searching.
God already found you and was with you the whole time.
Categories: addicting, faith, life, love, time,
Form:

Premium Member Yellow Brick

" (Two roads) diverged in a yellow wood and I choose the

            the one less traveled by and that has made 

                              all the difference. "

                                             Quote by - Robert Frost

YELLOW BRICK

Unintentionally urgent,
to choose or refuse,
to flee, to fly
possibly to die.
Excuse: just a child…

The clickety clack
attack of the narrow.
The meeting of strangers
along the way -
both good and evil.

Badly, she wanted to go home.
Bravely, she’d have to pursue
fear, fire, the witching hour.

Apples, red, near the yellow brick -
temptation, thirst, famishment.
Off the path, into dark woods…

Tricks are well-travelled - reveal
weaknesses - coveting, weary, greed…

One could endure the orbs, slapping,
soliciting, addicting; fall asleep, dream…

She’d not a brain in her head, her father said.
Her sister thought her a coward.
Her brother thought her heartless.
Would she listen to the talking heads…

She sighed, did not succumb to temptation…
It was only a bit farther, just around the corner.

This path, though fraught with anxiety
and danger, with pratfalls - dousing
a witch with water, missing her ride…

When she’d suffered, and died to self,
she’d unselfishly cherish her kin ‘til death.

She’s smarter than her years, her dad would say.
How brave you must have been, her sister would praise.
her brother sees, she’s all heart…

The crossroads came
in a most unexpected way -
a whirlwind adventure!
Categories: addicting, adventure, angst,
Form: Free verse

Candy Crush

Candy Crush!
Fired on the first day
Why 
Why
Must you be addicting
Candy Crush
Let's play again

Sweet
Fingertips 
Crushing the screen

I win!

I. Cantu
Categories: addicting, anger, candy, childhood, emo,
Form: Verse
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