Best Awkward Poems
I am an awkward aardvark
Awkward because, no one knows exactly
what kind of animal I am
how to classify me
I am an awkward aardvark
Evolved by necessity into an odd mixture
of adorable and formidable
sharp claws on my paws
funny bunny ears, the better to hear
predators in the night
just out of sight
I am an awkward aardvark
Nocturnal by nature, cautiously seeking safety
in my burrows dug deep
furrows on my face tracing the fear
of ever-present dangers lurking near
I am an awkward aardvark
Protecting myself with surprisingly thick skin
living on strange food
tiny crawly metaphors infested in the wood
of life's framework
a kind of a solitary clean-up committee
devouring what would otherwise
destroy the solidarity
of needed structures
By Edmund Siejka
A high school English teacher
Issues a challenge
Her class
Is to write a poem.
Reading a student’s poem
Her experienced eye
Searches for
Imagery
Metaphor
Tone
Point of view
Ultimately the student’s poem
Is graded a gentleman’s C.
Somewhat surprised
The student admits his shortcomings
Indicating that poetry is a lot like writing
Disappointed
The teacher
Doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
Coming home that night on a crowded train
The teacher passes up a seat
Letting an exhausted looking woman
Sit down
Thankful
For this simple courtesy
Brief smiles are exchanged
Strangers from two different worlds.
The teacher notices the smell of disinfectant
Hovering over the woman
Thick fingers holding tightly to her purse
The woman
Begins an animated conversation
With two other women
Broken English
Graceful hand movements
Words interrupted with laughter.
From what the teacher hears
She believes the women
Are cleaning ladies
The little people who clean the bathrooms
Vacuum carpeted hallways
Empty the trash
From windowed offices
High above the New York skyline.
The words ‘poetry is a lot like writing’
Linger in the teacher’s memory
One thing she is sure of
The ladies know of life
After years of
Hard work for little pay
Hungry children
Angry husbands
Absentee landlords.
The train stops
Momentarily the ladies collect
In a small group
On the empty train platform
Suddenly there is no more talking
In the awkward silence
Each of the ladies turn
Toward the direction
Of a place they call home.
The awkward moment when youre talking to yourself and start to smile like an idiot , because youre so hilarious. Your body makes you sexy. Your smile makes you pretty. Your lips make you yummy. But your personality makes you beautiful. Nobodys perfect but baby your perfect for me. Ok is that how it is , now i see how i much i truely mean to you . Now your just somebody that i used to know. I wonder . . Do you think about me as much as i think about you. Would it be ok if i took your breath away.My lips are the gun , my smile is the trigger , my kisses are the bullets , label me a killa. I no it would be easier walking away but what we got is real and i wanna save us. Girl i can't lie , i miss you . you were the only person i truely was commited to. talking to you for hours on the phone offically made my night a hole lot better. But its’ funny you never loved me to . The hardest thing about realizing you don't love me., is that you spent so much time pretending that you did. Thats ok because I have found someone better to replace you. Dont you hate what you feel like when you truely love someone and everyone else is against your decision . But she’s the only one i wanna be with. First i made you who you are , then i made it.
Everyday I wake up, lonely and alone
But I don’t mind because it is my safe zone
Yeah my life is boring and monotonous
But deep inside I want change and I’m furious
I want to break the silence but I can't
I tried a million times, it was not great
Every time I tried to scream, I can’t speak
Every time I tried to talk, I feel sick
It feels like something grips my throat really tight
I want to scream help and I want to fight
And then I realized it is just me
That creates this stupid fear unruly
This your government;
Souls are slain like cockroach
During your faithful regime.
Remember,
Before we put you in government
You spoke for peace and orderliness.
But it never came to pass.
Am so tired of your decades
Of calamity and devastation.
Speak your tenure;
Death upon death
Terror upon terror
Subsidy upon subsidy
Corruption upon corruption
Bad electricity upon bad electricity
Invainity upon invainity
Kidnapping upon kidnap
Education upon unemployment.
Government;
When shall these be evaporated
Is it when your blood are
Sacrifice for terror or what?
People are running for help
Helter-skelter, Government!!!
This your Government Is too
Awkward to the nation.
Provide a solution please!
Does it upset you that what you want is no longer what I want?
That your urges make me smile? (In a devious manner)
That watching you hold back, feeling that tension between us,
It just feels,
so
damn
good?
Because I’ve found something so much
Better,
And I can look at you and just not care anymore.
Your eyes full of this lost passion,
Screaming to find it within me..
…yet again.
But this time, this time I have more than you, I have more than me.
Something I wouldn’t have believed.
It’s opened me up, made me realize so much more about me, about life.
I will not be taken advantage of
You can no longer hold me hostage, bound within your words..
…your lies.
I’m not sorry I’m happy
I’m not sorry you can’t use me
I’m not sorry I can’t use you
but it’s that little bit of tension that held us together
I’m sorry for that
And I’m sorry its gone
I let go
I gave up
On the little hope of being something,
And with that the little friendship we had
…turned sour
I am sorry for that
And I am sorry that it is gone…
The awkward silence beween us,
Speaks volumes through the tension in the air,
I wonder what I said this time,
or maybe its because I was just "there"
What happened to the couple who
together could withstand hell,
Now I watch every move I make,
as if I am walking on eggshells
I know its partially my fault,
for letting things get this way,
But to avoid arguments for years,
I have not said what I needed to say
I cannot take anymore
of the manipulative tactics you use,
I have to take control of the situation,
My heart cannot take anymore abuse
So what is the next step?
Separation? time apart?
Without you seems impossible,
I don't know where to start
i clench both eye lids
awaiting for my first kiss
it was terrible
Are we friends out of circumstance?
If we met now would I spare you a glance?
There’s this voice in the back of my head
that occasionally fills me with dread.
It says that you’ll be the one to walk away from me first,
even though I’m the one writing this verse.
When we’re together the room is bursting with that pink elephant,
so much so, that I just want to exeunt.
But the elephant is fun,
she has something I’d miss.
It takes up so much space, that it pushes us together.
There’s a chance that we’ll make it through all this blue weather.
If I take a step back and put down this load.
Stop and rethink. I’ll know that I lied.
I’d never let go.
There is something here, something sharp and unexpected.
When I knock on your door, I look forward to the view.
I wouldn’t want my thoughts scrambled by anyone but you.
That awkward boy in the corner.
He walks oblivious through the school halls,
His arms are crossed in front of him like a shield,
A shield to block out the pain hidden in these whitewashed walls,
His backpack is slung across his back, weighing him down,
Amongst other things.
If you look closely you can see the tears in his downcast eyes,
His shoulders aren't hunched from the weight of his books.
No, they're burdened by the fears he dons like a burial shroud,
So he stays away and keeps his head down, ignoring their looks,
Where others have friendships and love, this boy has spaces,
Screaming teachers and bullies clamor in his dreams, with hollow faces.
This world it holds nothing for him, but in his mind he is free,
In his mind he is not an outcast, in his mind, he is not me.
But he does not live in his mind. Reality has never been kind,
It deals out impossible hands and leaves the good ones for you to find,
But this boy, he finds none. So every night he writes under the stars,
For they are his only friends, the words and stars. They reach out to him through steel bars.
They comfort him. But each day the sun rises and they leave,
Just like everything else. The pain is a constant, but he feels it none,
His lips run red with his own blood, and his side it aches from kicks and blows,
The fear and pain, it consumes his body and craves him whole,
It threatens to engulf him, to damage and blacken his soul.
This boy he's covered in the darkness, smothered by it.
His world is cruel, filled with dreadful blackened souls,
And they march on his hopes and dreams, filling them with a million holes,
Escape is ephemeral, like everything, and everything crashes down eventually,
This world it holds nothing for him, so in his mind he makes his own,
In his mind he has friends, and in his mind, there is no pain at all,
The whitewashed walls are empty, and he has the stars and words for company,
In his mind there is no pain and he is free.
In his mind, he is no longer me.
A mother's hand trembles
as she brushes a tear from her eyes;
while watching her awkward child
standing all alone, forgotten.
As others, in their budding self-awareness,
catch glimpses as they run by, playing
at their games and life.
They were too young, perhaps,
to appreciate that difference will
often foretell brilliance, that genius
sometimes hides behind
shyness, and strength within
softly stammered words.
Instead, we often feel we must march
to the same annoying drum beat,
speak the same exhausted phrases,
and think only empty thoughts
to feel connected. While left alone,
the one who's different
finds contentment in tending
a garden of his dreams.
Perhaps he should have come to this
life a little later, when humanity
might have learned acceptance
of those unlike themselves, and
tolerance for minds greater than
their own.
But, for now, there'll be derision
as insecurity outruns compassion
in the human race. Yet, as sometimes
happens, the awkward one, rejected as
a playmate, is now extolled by many
critics for his masterpieces.
And we gaze in wonder at the loveliness
of the unique.
Limericks as stanzas.. is that a thing?
In a little corner, by the window
A tiny, potted, plant does grow
Odd and unconventional
Awfully untraditional
But this is where I tend to go
Something that feels so out of place
Rejected, awkward, filler space
An offbeat
Few square feet
In my mind, along the lines, I trace
We share a moment every single day
When our time is up, I want to stay
Feet hit floor
Out the door
The world around looks beige and grey
awkward silence
both wondering how this can
end gracefully
Submitted on July 6, 2018 for SENRYU CONTEST sponsored by MICK TALBOT - RANKED 2ND
This is awkward the way stars smiled at me tonight
they had a peculiar twinkle in their bleary eyes
the night mist also melted a just bit too more
getting emotional that my soul had abruptly left me sore.
Going far away miles is no easy job ,life does and often it does
she was on that train walking away far and far miles away from me
the train wheels crunched and crackled refusing to move
knowing my jagged heart that was torn groove to groove.
Her lovely face had those two tears -the pearls-that spoke her inside
she was overwelmed and knew that all right, and was engaged in a fight
in a fight ,to make an appearance to tell her dearest that she was quite all right
her lips trembled and her lovely nose snivelled as her pink cheeks suffused
she was on brink and emotionally wired and fused..to go she was about to refuse.
Our link was that outstretched hand and palm and finger tips
that touched in adieu exchanging the love electrical charge
the pair of palms shook and shook and then held firm on hoove
the train whistled and chugged,that heartless engine,making it move.
A gasp of pain escaped and longing darted to eyes that met
she had to go and I had to have a devil's heavy heart
she stood transfixed to the door as that cruel bogey groaned
I was on an amble trying to keep up the pace as the spectre loomed.
Faster and faster, the train moved and she was just a point
and for me the life had lost meaning and became less of any points
Somehow I did labor a return to my pad sighed and watched the sky
the star smiled awkward and the night mist melted a way too much.
We reunited a month later in a rousing manner.
The child that hides in the forest
Is crying
She is sickened
She is dying
You have poisoned her
Her heart, it barely beats
The poor dear
Is crying
Of course she knows
She is dying
The pull of death is just too strong
For her, life shall close early
The babe
Is crying
Too late to change her fate
She is dying
She slips, slips away
The question left is this
Am I lying?
Am I lying?