Best Argumentative Poems
Unfortunate circumstances made me a weekend father
Two parents separated by a marred history,
now had to care for a child ...
an innocent victim who received emotional shrapnel
as collateral damage from our argumentative battles
Our destructive habits fell onto her,
but children are very resilient, thank God
I loved being a weekend father
There was no bitterness about allotted time of custody,
none of that foolishness
My wife and I settled our divorce amicably ... no courts involved,
except for the legal formality of having a divorce decree issued
by the state
We worked things out between us much better being apart than when we
were married
It's funny how that works
So I got my daughter on the weekends, but over time I had her
more than the weekends
We bonded pretty good
And anyone with kids will tell you, that four-year-olds are a quirky bunch
They're old enough to do enough things for themselves,
but they still want you to do a lot of things for them ...
y'know, they still want the baby treatment
My daughter, she really only demanded two things of me when I first
started having her every weekend:
she wanted us to watch movies together, movies like "Lion King,"
or play video games together, video games like "Lion King"
And she didn't like the part of the movie where Simba's dad, Mustafa died
She always cried, and told me to skip that part ...
that always touched my heart
Because it told me, in unspoken words, that she loved me and didn't
want anything bad to happen to me
When she turned five, I enrolled her at my alma mater college,
in an art program for kids
My sister and father told me that my daughter had artistic ability
So every Saturday, we spent half the day at the college,
because after she got out of class, we would get something to eat,
then go to the main library on campus and get on the computers
To make a long story shorter ... she received an art degree
when she became grown
Becoming an illustrator and computer graphic artist
That's what being a weekend father means to me
Categories:
argumentative, art, divorce, father daughter,
Form:
Verse
The Lying Tongue
sang a song
The Flattering Tongue
played along
The Know It All Tongue
intended the composition
The Meddling Tongue
held it's position
The Harsh Tongue
kept quiet for once
The Tactless Tongue
reluctantly obliged
The Rude Tongue
got annoyed
The Loquatious Tongue
was soon overjoyed
The Discouraging Tongue
hummed on
The Self-Depreciating Tongue
became withdrawn
The Argumentative Tongue
thought it all wrong
The Boasting Tongue
thought it right on
The Hasty Tongue
felt it was contrite
The Discouraging Tongue
and all this singing
The Indiscreet Tongue's
awkward whistling
The Complaining Tongue's
plodding drone
The Cursing Tongue
let out a no-no moan
The Judgemental Tongue
liked that a lot
The Self-Absorbed Tongue
rolled it's eyes
The Retaliating Tongue
held out a hat
The Intimadating Tongue
offered a prize
The Cynical Tongue
just laughed
The Accusing Tongue
choreographed
The Gossiping Tongue
signed autographs
The Doughting Tongue
crooned the refrain
The Accusing tongue
blasted the blame
The Hasty Tongue
fanned the flames
So the Belittling Tongue
dismissed the party
The Devisive Tongue
composed the ending
And the Silent Tongue
looked on.
* All tongues borrowed from
Categories:
argumentative, 10th grade, anti bullying,
Form:
Free verse
My father drank himself half to death.
I tried to understand why.
But I became stumped and hurt every time I thought about it.
He became drunk and argumentative but always assured us he never meant it.
I became my mother’s best friend more than a daughter.
She would ask for advice and I would give my honest opinion.
Whether it was offensive or complete profanity.
She took it in and thought yet never took any suggestions.
My parents fought like siblings with a huge age gap.
Neither ever understood the other.
Late nights at work and early afternoons at the bar.
I was born in the middle of a fiery war.
My older sister is lucky she isn’t related to my father.
Her father may be a deadbeat but mine, in a few years, may actually be dead.
My brother has enough of his own problems, why distract him with our fathers’.
All of us aren’t full siblings, may be that’s a good thing.
I’m talking to the younger me when I write down my memories of my dad.
But I’m giving my future self more reading material for cringing.
Reliving the memories I never understood as a child.
And once I’m older I’ll relive the memories again, but this time understand them the way 16 year old me did.
Having an alcoholic father taught me that I’m not the only one with trust issues.
Seeing another empty bottle but only seeing another broken promise.
Having an alcoholic father taught me that sometimes you can find closer family in strangers.
My friends are my non-biological family that grew closer to me than my father and I since I was 7.
Having an alcoholic father has taught me that my heart has been broken so many times.
It’s hard for me to love and become close to people anymore.
Having an alcoholic father has taught me to open up my eyes to others problems.
That’s why I can now see I have a sister who’s addicted to pain meds and a brother who’s handicapped.
Categories:
argumentative, addiction, childhood, confusion, dad,
Form:
Free verse
Julia's that special someone
who comes into your life
Besides a thrilling poet
she's a mother and a wife
First you don't understand
exactly what she means
but later on you grasp
Julia's more than she seems
She isn't argumentative
uncaring or aloof
just takes a little time
and knowing her is proof
I'm glad that I met Julia
and she's my facebook friend
A special kind of lady
to be enjoyed again!
Categories:
argumentative, friend,
Form:
Rhyme
Worth A Shot
I didn’t want to alienate the capricious alien who ate
my malignant scapegoat Harry who refused to gravitate
outside to chew my weeds although he did then dissipate
the transitory nature of my fluctuating weight
and though he was perspicuous and often tried to bate
me into argumentative discussions (which I hate)
he sometimes tried to flatter me while I would masticate
the breakfast sausage bought by my inurbane sister Kate.
And now that I’ve used all ten words I think I’ll just tempt fate
and stop, because it’s dinnertime, and this is NOT first-rate!
August 31, 2016
Categories:
argumentative, humorous,
Form:
Quatrain
Security guard
I was broke, no work for me at the shipping office,
got a job guarding tractors; sat in a hut that was cold and had no heating
and bad light. Well, this job was better than sitting at home
lamenting my unemployment, but my god was it boring.
Sat on a tractor pretending I was a farmer ploughing a potato field,
and that was tedious too. The uniform they had given me
was too small for my frame looked like a walking scarecrow.
At midnight another guard came to take over and I asked him
how he could survive the tedium. Me, he said I go to sleep
I have full time work during the day.
Next day I got a phone from the shipping office it had been
difficult they said I had a reputation for not playing ball
and being argumentative; took the job handed in my uniform.
Categories:
argumentative, confusion, cool, crazy,
Form:
Blank verse
Stop tongue wrestling
Talking is pointless this time
Please learn to listen
Categories:
argumentative, pride, words,
Form:
Senryu
Wisdom wild wavering wyrd, wonder of winsome ways
Ostentatiously opportunistic, Orpheus oneiric orchid,
Marvelously mystical mirth maker making man amaze
Ardently argumentative, and artistic accenter; avid
Nymph. Naturally nurturing nostalgic nidulation days
How do I praise the sweet excess in you, the grace
Oozing milk of kindness, compassion that bore me
Obdurate beauty more profound than the pretty face?
Dance dear dreamer devoid of drums drizzled memory.
Categories:
argumentative, tribute,
Form:
Acrostic
The tags are labels placed on a table.
Beginning with A and ending with Z, the labels placed on the table enables me to readings.
I defeated being judgmental and did not become analytic.
My mind is a schema.
The stems are roots ending.
Argumentative are the colors exploding.
White becomes mixed and black is a misted.
Meaning is that both are within an element.
The bags that I carry appear to be heavy but they are not.
They are held many ways so that my arms will not tire.
I walk with a slight lean to my shoulder because my purse must strap.
I arch upright like a cat.
The stems rooted and garlic is scape.
The railroad track is the shortcut we take.
The blood is enriched and the heart strengthens.
Once grown, he knows life ascertains.
Pulling back the curtains, he views the beautiful garden planted by his beloved mother.
The clothes in this bag I will wash completing my chores for today.
Once done, I will leave to find something to enhance my life.
I feel agitated and I must relax.
Tomorrow will be one of the best days in time.
The stem is a broken root.
It uses or loses its route to new growth.
The knowledge it provides is wisdom to the planter.
The stem asks the question of why did this happen.
Categories:
argumentative, assonance, brother, creation, identity,
Form:
Free verse
Surprise me with a compliment
When I’m feeling down
Surprise me with a funny joke
When you see me wear a frown
Surprise me with agreement
When I am argumentative
Surprise me with a “thank you” smile
When I’ve nothing left to give
Surprise me with a thumbs up sign
Even though I tried and failed
Surprise me with camaraderie
When all my other friends have bailed
Surprise me with a shoulder rub
After a long, hard day at work
Surprise me with a good kick in the tush
When I am being a real jerk
Surprise me with an in depth look
At one of my stupid poems
Surprise me by being there
When at night I stumble home
Surprise me by simply loving me
Although there is no good reason to at all
Surprise me by catching me
Before I even start to fall
Surprise me in any of these ways
And this I promise you
The surprises that I give right back
Will come in multiples of two
Categories:
argumentative, life,
Form:
Rhyme
A year ahead my skull was taken by a diatribe- storm
Her face formed a bead in an invisible dorm
That was right I did feel with a warm wet street
They pressed their seeds into salamander kit
The first thing I did hate; “No, it was not norm”
I smelled a smell of thunder -short and thick
Played all knotty fingers a leprechaun trick
I went to the Iron Gate, the colour I must hate
Of that crippled stuff in me I shouldn’t overrate
And stopped the nerve’s cabal with an assassin snick
They said the sound of screech was a ratty speech
In the corner of a lizard and spider-web rich
Dumpled up near the bed with stiletto-eyes
To the bargain, my demon -self began to rise
My scroop and the shadow spoke each to each
I did nothing to spoil the fight; I did know I was right
I was cool in the argumentative pool while I was in flight
The moon-baked night shed her chill over the Carolyn Hill
In the jungles of cops, thousands of mops and the forgotten shrill
I did know in sloughed snow that it was not a stage fright.
I had my last straw to catch, darkness shrouded my face
Salt in blood played a evening tune, "I'm sure I have lost my space"
Now a derelict soul a barge I had nobody to embrace.
I could vanish without a trace but a crash and burn
Of thousand nights and summer wing's run
Had made me a shallow drone with a zip gun.
© Rajat Kanti Chakrabarty
13 th October,2014
Categories:
argumentative, anger, moon, murder, mystery,
Form:
Rhyme
Linda, you think that too?
I did not want to tell you, but since Jacque did.
Wait a second! You think I have road rage?
I have known them both for almost 60 years, but
they still betray me,
creeping at me with judgements, pretending to "help me"
Two childhood friends, doing a road rage intervention.
I am incredulous,
argumentative,
irritated,
ready to pack their stuff for them, and push them out the door.
I hope they will like their little 4 mile hike back to my house.
Categories:
argumentative, community, farewell, funny, imagination,
Form:
Free verse
Never be argumentative
Love
Lord
Categories:
argumentative, faith,
Form:
Free verse
I come from a family of teachers. Teaching is in my blood, and it defines who I am.
Currently I’m teaching a university course entitled, “Writing Arguments.” My students had to send me an email stating what controversial issue they wanted to write an argumentative essay on. I was touched to the core to receive this letter from one of my students who has very strong views on certain issues. Here is what he wrote:
“I'd also like to tell my favorite teacher/queen/poetry goddess/ gorgeous and smart/educator/mentor that she is the best professor I've ever had. She's unique and talented and has good taste in everything. She's cute and has a very good sense of judgment...On behalf of all the class I'd like to thank you for showing us mercy and making English way more fun than it's supposed to be…”
How could he know the impact of these words on my heart? My response?
“First of all, let me assure you that your letter will be cherished and treasured. I will keep it for when I'm feeling down and am without hope. Thank you for your sweet and kind sentiments. I only correct you because I do not wish for you to suffer out there in the REAL world!” ;)
To be a mentor is a wonderful thing. Often students will come to my office to share their problems with me and to get a nice motherly hug. To be considered a good teacher is a blessing. Students prefer to take courses with me than with others. They even blow me kisses as they walk passed my classes. To be honest, my student's note made me feel like I'm making a difference, but also, he made me feel like a beautiful person both on the inside and on the outside. The icing on the cake was to be given the title, Poetry Goddess. Who could ask for more?!
Hope you enjoyed this little glimpse into my life from the perspective of someone who actually "sees" me! The pleasures of being a teacher!
Categories:
argumentative, relationship, student, teacher, perspective,
Form:
Prose
I try to be good
I work and play
to cause disarray
I fume and let it all mushroom
I engage in wanton acts of guile
I act not as the contrary child
I do it all but not for a smile
To kill a ghost:
First it must be dead
That troublesome bother
That worm of irritation
That sore of discontent
That bane of the fair game
That argumentative refrain
To live with so much hate
To suffer with immeasurable pain
To want to be set free
To distance all from troublesome calamity
The earth will not be despoil
For long
Rise up before the troika dance of sun and moon
Enter the psyche of those who sent you away
Pretend its all fair play
Harass and bother everyday
No words can slay
No mantras can tame
Humanity will be reduced to a soulful shame
Now the sore has turned to a boil
Now the spectre is your turmoil
Cause of demise now haunts the mind
Enter the ghost of what should be left behind
Categories:
argumentative, hilarious,
Form:
Verse