Best Amateurs Poems
I write poems because it's fun
And I'm not the only one
It's an outlet for verbal expression
A hobby and not an obsession
I'm an amateur, not a pro
Thankful there's someplace to go
Where others like myself
Can write without seeking wealth
An opportunity for me to learn
Gain confidence in return
Friendly contests sharpen my skills
Winning is a personal cheap thrill
Not everyone feels the same
For people like me, that's a shame
They're always causing dissension
Complaining and seeking attention
In their high chair, they bang their spoon
Grown men crying childish tunes
The food that once filled their belly
To them is now tasteless and smelly
I say, find another place to eat
Let us amateurs compete
Nobody's making you stay
You don't play well with others, anyway
Bland food doesn't suit your palate
Over here you're wasting your talent
Why stay here and eat slop
Since your talent's so over the top
Categories:
amateurs, conflict, feelings, philosophy,
Form:
Rhyme
I think I'll open a tragedy club
where people can come to weep
I'll tell the saddest stories around
admission will be cheap
I'll call the venue Tragic Relief
where heartache is the norm
and "open mike night" amateurs
can mournfully perform
To be a standup tragedian
has been a lifelong dream
No longer caring to cry alone
I might even form a team
We'll bill ourselves as "Wailing & Tears"
and tour throughout the land
We'll have them bawling in the aisles
til they can hardly stand
They'll cry a mighty river
at our films from year to year
We'll throw in fresh cut onions
just to wring out every tear
Appearing at my club some time
to do a special show
the hottest new tragedians
will tell their tales of woe
No matter if your background is
from denim or fine silk
we'll gather round and cry all over
puddles of spilled milk
So take a break and come on down
and turn your joy to grief
Just keep your eyes peeled for the sign
that says Tragic Relief
Categories:
amateurs, dark, humor, irony, nonsense,
Form:
Rhyme
So slick, so brown, baked and bright
colour and flesh, bordered by voluptuous curves.
You’ve made praises of you beyond a man-made stuff;
on you alone, craft, art and sexuality, together mold.
Your every action, movement and word
are sprinkled with little erotic flakes.
The provokers of nature-bending desires
cling unto your waist like colourful beads.
Chocolate steams coming out of your inner refuge
give sweetness like pieces of sugarcane in coconut water.
Converting every attention towards you
to the longing of a voracious chew.
Heightened temperatures and senses make any soul cough
when seeing your bare carrying soft elements so bold.
Sight of you is honey for passions so tough,
they consume, exaggerate breath sounds and never grow old.
Sketches of you even from amateurs are never rough
and the layers beneath your skin are the purifiers of Gold.
Matured and serious young adults have faith in love
but to your passionate affection, I’m a complete extremist.
Categories:
amateurs, emotions, feelings, i love
Form:
Romanticism
I was not impressed by his super mediocre talent
The kind one should keep under wraps exposed
To a world of less well known and near do well designers
Who struggle easily with mundane exotic tasks which, when left
In the hands of expert amateurs would not seem so
Ridiculously sensible at a time such as now
~*~
Note: For Kristen Bruni's "Oxymoronica" Contest
Categories:
amateurs, funny
Form:
Narrative
Politics is a cat-and-mouse poker game,
Some play it well,
others not so much
Amateurs show their hidden hand,
they got an easy-to-spot tell
But the old pros are the best cons,
selling you wet dreams from a dry well
It’s a two-party poker game in the U.S. of A,
has been like this now forever and a day
... at least it seems that way
There’s a lot of cheese in the budget mouse traps,
and a pack of donor dogs chasing those political cats
There’s a lot of dark scurrying by the greediest rats,
avoiding the crook catchers taking another light nap
Today, Democrats may be the cat,
tomorrow, they may be the rat
Yesterday, Republicans may have been the cat,
tomorrow, they may be the rat
Both wanna pocket the money, easy peasy ...
and to the people,
they ain’t planning on giving it back
If you ask them where is the stolen sack,
playing possum is how they’re gonna act
Pointing fingers is what they all do best,
then give more campaign promises next
Saying another election’s coming up,
so just reshuffle the marked deck
Playing possum poker is a grifter’s art,
gotta have a poker face and an empty heart
They love betting the farm, which is money you don’t got
Turning their pockets red to black, when they win the pot
Tip the shady dealer who tipped the hand,
the House always comes up Senate empty
time and time again
As both parties tell you, they’re gonna catch THOSE rats,
if you vote THEM in
Categories:
amateurs, corruption, political, truth, wisdom,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
You breaketh my soul
where am I to find it now that you've taken control
neglecting the tide
my fountain of youth placed there by your side
Never shun the forgotten sinner that by shame ever to stay in remembrance
strained to be as Temperance
flawless by standards of mind playing amateurs in times glance
my savoring heart will not bludgeon yours if you offer it your stance
Procure me to the parade
hover moonlight shade
blue turns to jade
stay with the lovers heir to which we have made
peer into the ocean of silver ice crystal streams
seeing our fate in my dreams
Call of minds refuge
upon weary lands of ode
memories kept under deluge
to decipher the code
Forgiven are ye who walk upon the stony grave of deserts loom
swept ashes by grace unbound naked as a cleansed fume
Categories:
amateurs, lost love,
Form:
Rhyme
Valley of the kings
Romantic ideas
Word spread rapidly
Undiscovered tomb of a pharoah
World renown archeological teams
headed for Egypt
Amateurs, we stood in line for almost twenty-hours
before it was our
turn to take a look inside.
From the sunlight to the darkness, at first you go blind.
You hopefully catch yourself
As you find yourself falling over all of the stuff the servants
Felt the Pharoah would need in the afterlife
Toys, tools, everyday items, seeds, toiletries, decorative items
Vast amounts of lapis, and gold are glimpsed at corners where
generators are lighting lamps.
The air is stale, like a death march.
There is little light; but lots of angry shadows.
I lost my footing twice, tripping over an embossed box.
There were three sarcophagus,
In this unusual tomb.
A family disaster perhaps?
I could barely see in here.
I went back out,
and gulp-breathed
Gorgeous Egyptian air,
relieved I had not been grabbed
by a mummy.
Categories:
amateurs, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Free verse
Do you want to become a favorite poet of mine?
Show me that you are a prolific wordsmith.
Just write something that impresses me and looks fine.
You don’t have to be a professional.
Amateurs are the ones who have created many fine works.
The whole world is out there to describe on paper.
If I see a submission I wished I wrote myself,
then your work will be included in a very select group.
I will gladly open the gate and let you walk in.
Put something great in print, and you will become a favorite.
Categories:
amateurs, poems, poets, writing,
Form:
Free verse
Another dead from injuries
In this latest mad attack.
Gun-downed by a supposed friend,
She had no time to fight back.
The fifteen year old gunman
Has died by his own hand.
Because of him, two others dead.
No one can understand.
Four children injured badly
Upon the schoolroom floor.
But for the heroic teacher,
There would have been some more.
We find this in the paper
And with a shrug of rage,
Keep reading other items
Then turn to the comic page.
But this one came too close to home,
Just another town away.
She could have easily been ours,
That lost grandchild today.
He didn't fit the pattern,
A well adjusted child.
No one can say what happened
To make him go so wild.
Experts as well as amateurs
Will have pet theories why
A cared for, beloved child would want
Someone's loved child to die.
By: Joyce Johnson
(This happened this Friday at a town near my own. )
Categories:
amateurs, death, student,
Form:
Narrative
Oh I'm sorry I didn't get it,
not to worry I won't forget it.
In order to win, it's not the contest,
but rather the spin. The more stupid
the parameters, the more ignoresponses
from amateurs. The more moronic the
directions, the more sophomoric
the reactions. Could u b more
histrionic in your language
glucolic, never ending of cliché
pre ponderunceses of innane
uninteresting plainjane, U r a poet because u
have PAID the big $$$ dues and have special
powers of words/phrase lifeology. All will be yours
in member recognition, regardless of yr ignonill offerings
according to this site NOTALENTU.
True is the phrase you
really do get what u pay for. (Please don't end a sentence
with a preposition?)
Real words, dimensions come from a place within;
deep, dank, dark non existant and incoporeal of anything reality based.
U can't pull emo tensions off the top like adding cream
to yr coffee. Poetry is a gutterial personification of the fecal life
that inhabited u as an earthling offspring not chosen
to a family of illgotten gain origin. Given the noncapacity to provide the common
requirements for sociosill survival.
All of u can smooch my **** premise, bend over to shake my
gonadal good interntions as u pissprose praise one another
each other as OMG, yr choice of emotional integrity resonates with my
soulful intent to do better in the world. Throw up here. Vomit
victims filled remorse and no coital containment
u must be kidding when u set up these contests and yr stupid
rules that only u r to privy. To make yrself look literate above all others.
U stink like a skunk that is dead in a trunk. Oh the stinch
is so much that my nose I must pinch. Get off yr high
horse and get with the crowd, as yr present purpose I must protest
to LOUD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Write what u feel and For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge
forget the rest. Bend over.
Categories:
amateurs, character, corruption, feelings, poets,
Form:
Free verse
Different worlds and different races
Sometime many years ago, a catastrophe began
wiping out most civilized, the ones that we call man
Cities were abandoned, inhabitants left the earth
trying hard to save their clans and start a new rebirth
Thousands not so fortunate, the earth had sealed their fate
no where to go, no where to hide, for them it was to late
The cities they abandoned, were marvels of their time
would be unearthed ten thousand past, when earth is in its prime
Scientists, archaeologists, and amateurs combined
all try their best to understand, from what was left behind
Carbon dating, "guesstimates" they still do not agree
that different life from other worlds began externally
They'd been here twenty thousand years as visitors now gone
an oasis, island, resting place for journeys very long
Something happened this we know, they left before we came
the lifetimes did not overlap, we never knew their name
We all grow up enchanted by the stories people tell
does that mean that tunnel vision is alive and well?
Some speculate our ancestors, migrated near and far
and maybe they just could have lived, beyond a distant star?.....
Categories:
amateurs, earth, imagination, planet, science
Form:
Rhyme
You think you're Godzilla
but you're just a Gorilla,
that's what happens when you've got gonorrhea,
my skin colours vanilla
my skills are killa and real
you're run of the mill, a fail
can't you tell you didn't do well,
that Kartel manure smell
of Kountry music don't sell,
a wannabe that wants to be on X Factor
in a field riding a wrecked tractor,
tracks that no mind will capture,
you're no rapper, a can't act actor and no rhyme writer
with poor rhyming from your core
the fact is you naturally bore,
getting done by amateurs
that means s**t for sure and below my stature,
take a step back and see the big picture,
there's no record label coming for your signature,
you should turn around and head for the door
and not turn this battle rap into a war,
snore, pass out snore music,
20 years and there's still no use for it,
your rhymes are insignificant
your average skill's no different
stop thinking you're magnificent
and realise you're just a hunt.
Yet you think you're good,
umm missing a nail or screw
let's face facts your music is poo,
can you not make a beat with flow?
Your music makes me sit in a seat depressed and low
through ignorance your skill's seen no grow,
so excuse my rant but your music is pants,
professional status, you've got no clucking chance.
You're so unlikely to upstage my quickly written
lickety split thermonuclear lit quick wit
with whatever you pick
to pull out your bag of tricks
because I'll make it unstick
quicker than thumbs can click through your music,
making videos in which you go on the phone,
cliche prone, stereotype replica
look at ya forever inferior,
making out you've golden interior,
but Postman Pat out delivers letters
and is better with more under the hat
you've empty space where your brain sat,
writing rubbish, getting fat,
one year in I'm getting published
you skank like a grandad with one wish
you long to be served a contract,
take note of the situation
you've been rhyming for a generation,
and you'll never be a sensation,
just a symbol of humiliation,
........ cus Rosko thinks he's the dogs bollocks,
while the rest of us just think he's bollocks.
That's all bossco, that's all I have to country cartel you.
Over and out, they call me Sue.
Categories:
amateurs, hip hop, rap, slam,
Form:
Rhyme
Begin by swinging from chandeliers when home
Wear matching multicolored harlequin costumes
Equip yourselves with harmonicas and bazookas
Keep lubricants and trampolines near by for safety
Practice lunar landings in your room to
Resume your activities in the great outdoors
Do sex outside in a car when retired
Bring a partner and spare tire as required
Avoid police if so inclined
Drive eighty miles an hour at all times
Watch out for sharp curves if they object
Narrow mountain roads are watching
Keep one eye on the road while inserting
Headlights and moon glow set the mood
Never use puppets when in an auto
Open highways are always open to suggestion
Mating should only occur in mid air
Eat oysters raw when in flight
Climb to greater heights
Use Airplanes for best results
Jump from wing to wing
Wear a parachute and a pirates patch
Use only one to avoid catastrophes
Take lessons from cartoons
To find out who you are
Leave farm and zoo animals out of the equation
Milking a cow is taboo too… Don't do it!
Wear rubber gloves if you must
Position yourselves to be lazy
In opposite directions for safety
Never have sex face to face
Back to back is better jumping on the bed
Apparatuses are optional
To be avoided by amateurs
Watch out for babies! (They snore)
Never run over them
It's against the law
And down right crazy
Pregnancy can be fun too
Instructions are on the dashboard
But first you must buy or rent a car
Before you floor it
Categories:
amateurs, crazy, education, happiness, inspirational,
Form:
Didactic
40th Marathon For 70 Year Old
Almost in disbelief, I reread the headline of this one particular online piece of news….
A 72-year-old Retiree Just Ran His 40th New York Marathon, screams the title of this news…
Reading on, Dave Obelkevich, he has done the most consecutive New York City Marathons…
For his 40th milestone run, he professed his training has been less than ideal ahead of this marathon..
For this sprightly distance runner, even a hamstring injury and a calf injury were no deterrent…
He aims to again complete the world’s largest race, this hugely popular New York Marathon run..
“I won’t run fast but I know I can finish”, he simply declares soundly his mission in this latest marathon…
Being realistic, he hopes only to finish within a set time to extend his streak of finishing marathons……
The visuals that backed up this news article showed runners amassed in numbers, nothing fake…
Of all shapes and sizes, the news article did state, runners local and foreign, they are here to participate.
Smiles aplenty, hands waving and high fives were in ample evidence of how times have changed…
From little band of dedicated runners to one of a huge big family of athletes and of amateurs….
Reading on, Mr Dave kindly elaborated, today the runners are in running more for the finish…
A great many more are there just to be in the running, never mind how you finish, so long as you finish…
I could feel the exhilaration and the stupefying elation of a successful run should I be there to finish…
I should think the exhaustion pales in comparison to the euphoric sensations when the run is finished..…
After 40 marathons and miles after miles of pounding the tarmac, Mr Dave is still a sensation…
With his spirit, zest and thirst for marathon runs yet unquenched, he awaits for the next edition..
How I wish one fine day, I too can meet Mr Dave the Marathon veteran of 40 New York Marathons…
Like he said, everyone wish to be there and to take in the sights while running the NY Marathon…
I know I will not be able to keep up with such a running veteran, never mind his ageing years…..
But just to run beside such a veteran over a distance, wow, what a privilege to be there….
Just a tribute to a genuine running man
http://www.star2.com/people/2015/11/03/a-72-year-old-retiree-just-ran-his-40th-new-york-marathon/
Categories:
amateurs, appreciation, character, inspirational, new
Form:
Light Verse
Lively refrains of a sweet melody
Frenetic picking of a banjo plus three
Piano player with tips in a jar
Head shaking boys playing screaming guitars
Symphony orchestra, soft brass and strings
Meditation rhythms with hums and pings
Amateurs on You tube streaming songs they wrote
Large gospel choir singing full throat
Mellow, sounds, of a saxophone
Loud boisterous blow of a slide trombone
Rap or hip-hop thumps the new generation
Blues are therapeutic in moderation
Soprano or baritone, opera or stage
Little black notes on a manuscript page
Regardless the occasion, regardless of age
Someone is listening to the music that plays
original poem by the "poemdog" Daniel Turner
Categories:
amateurs, music,
Form:
Rhyme