Best Back To The Drawing Board Poems | Poetry

Below are the all-time best Back To The Drawing Board poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of back to the drawing board poems written by PoetrySoup members

Search for Back To The Drawing Board poems, articles about Back To The Drawing Board poems, poetry blogs, or anything else Back To The Drawing Board poem related using the PoetrySoup search engine at the top of the page.

See Also:

Poems are below...



New Back To The Drawing Board Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Back To The Drawing Board poems are below this new poems list.

Back To The Drawing Board by Asuncion, Bernard F.
back to the drawing board by Akinyemi, oluwatomiwo
Back to the drawing board by McDermin, Michelle

View all new Back To The Drawing Board Poems

The Best Back To The Drawing Board Poems

 
Details | Back To The Drawing Board Poem | Create an image from this poem.

White Picket Fence

Featuring: Keith :)
----------------------
Fresh sand garments 
The Mental Colosseum floor
Self-infliction's--waging wars 
----------------------

~ AND THE POEM BEGINS ~

A mask, tiny holes
Breathing heavily
Dancing around my toes
Broad carbon steel
Safe behind my will
Equipment of revenge
Fencing the world with my eyes

I bow, with the morning dew,
 My mind a dual in its own world.
When the curtains lift,
I prepare myself with a weapon--   
Epee Crest to protect my chest
A sword sharper than  fangs
I circle my blade around the door knob 
Ready to face the world 
Practicing --in hopes today, I won't retreat

“Fencers ready!"
ATTACK!
A magical knightress
Painted in white
"Let's dance!"

~ THE SHOW BEGINS ~

Queen Amri  "VS" The Damsel 
Wishing it was over
Stainless steel echoes
“Every poke counts”
 Hoping & Taking
 
No room to disengage   ---I retreat
Peacefully I secure my stance 
On Guard!
I lean in, I disengage  ---I flee
Back again, I lunge 
The Queen is too smart to retreat
I -Amri, parry away from the argument of the lunge.
Recoil & Double tapped
In and out….. I'm struck
Boldness---
Back to the drawing board
On guard, I stand like a statue
Out of breath; feels like I'm dying
Yet I am still fighting.
The Queen knows what to do.   
TODAY~
I Yield, She Wins!

Raising our foils 
---At the on guard of another day

I move in swiftly, cutting like razor blades
Using refreshed energy
24 / 7 
I attack, She provokes!
Sand runs its course
Victorious against the queen
Touch – tied – triumph -- Touché
Standing on my own 2 feet

I am the 
-Grand Finale Show-
Conquering The Battles Inside
TODAY~
-I WIN!-

by; PD


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013

Details | Back To The Drawing Board Poem | Create an image from this poem.

That Was a Human

Allow me to be disgusted at the jest
and your halfway happy surprise at the end result
of the missile timed precisely:

Did he just splatter?

And allow me to feel the brunt of the bruising
upon my saddened heart, where for others was felt,
from laughing hard.

Yes, all lives matter

Even the ones who don't bear
our national colors
our political expectations    no matter how wrong or right
For just this occasion let us get back to basics:

That was a human

ten fingers and ten toes
perhaps a wife and family to call his own
but do you even know?

            Or even care to think
beyond the face of it?

Getting kicks at watching the Live Leaks
of people being blown to smithereens      It bothers me
That one should find it amusing
Does it bother      You?

---a single tear of blue
is all I'm asking---

Who he was or what he did
what difference does it make?
When life closes the lid
all we have is the acknowledgement:

That was a human      A human

What if those pixels on the screen
were all that was left of that man's memory

would you still find it funny?

And yet still we turn to Facebook Enlightenment
with quotations that decorate a sniper in a holy moment ---

"And oh God. One more thing.
Ignore my enemies heathen prayers
and help me send those bastards
straight to hell.

Amen."

(The amount of "likes" are disheartening
and should be a sin.
Where's the "vomit button" ... ?)

Reading through the comment's section,
like poetry for the juvenile,
and the criminally insane.
No Alka Seltzer      No pills
I'm riding this crazy train unprotected
as if I'm dying for a thrill.

Dying ... at the very least.
Queasy at the vertigo of a nation
acting to love and loving to act

(Nineteen-Eighty-Four called,
they want their plot back)

And have you read empathy such as this?

ROFL, mate! That's classic!

(you have a doggie bag on ya, by chance?
I think I'm gonna be sick)

That was a human

A HUMAN!!!

And you call yourself a Man of God?
Yet still feel compelled
to pull back His Grace to your own ends

... that slippery tide
between your fingers

As if infinity could only be stretched so far;
it won't last long my friend,
before you look into that celestial mirror
scared at what you see

 Is that            me?

Yet still you wear that outpouring of love
on your neck like a trophy
as if you even deserved it.

a single tear of blue     just one
can you give it to me, son?

t h a t w a s a h u m a n

And do you even care?
Does it phase you in the slightest?
Or does a coat of arms
give you further reason to divide?

Jesus died for all      For all

All that upheld the American flag
      as equal to His words.
All who marched to the beat of the drums
      drowning out the birds.
All who bravely proclaimed: We are Heading to War!
                                       We are Heading to War!
And all those who never asked: And what for? What for?

Do you feel its beating on your soul?
S h  o   u    l     d
      I       t        a        l         k
          s           l            o             w?

(the unwritten verses
you added long ago)

It doesn't even matter now,
because all that remains
is what's been left on the page.

All that remains...

Just four sad words
like hopeless sand
slipping through my fingers

That was a human      (or at least it was)
Before Man forgot what he had,
Believing he could do better,
Egging the Almighty to play his game

... back to the drawing board, smirked the Creation

And what about you, Dear Reader?
What will the eulogizer speak
in your honor
when the lights out?

That was a monster
He won't bother you now


Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2016




Details | Back To The Drawing Board Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Life According to Miss Ooh-La-La

She sits perched, like a gorgeous gargoyle, upon the boulder
splotched with spots of mint chocolate ice cream moss - the wind tasting
her lovely locks as if it were spicy cinnamon straight off the tree.
It excites the senses (to put it frankly) watching her gaze
pierce the sapphire roof of the world
with a challenge to be met.

Or was it the twinkle in her smile
that shone like polished ivory, reminding me of the legalities
of elephantine tusks, and the slippery slope of falling
for that gracious grin and hallowed hope.

It could just be, she's got a lasso on my heart,
that takes delight in my vertigo - flipping and flopping
much like an oval shaped wheel.
I'd ask her to grease the hinges, or go back to the drawing board,
but to tell the truth - it adds character to the path
digging dangerously into the dirt dutifully
causing a spray of pebbles to the face of normalcy.

It could just be, that letting go ain't in her vocabulary,
reeling me in like a big fish story in one of those backwater
little ponds, that spawn such discrepancy.
I'd say she's a catch, but that would be cheesy
(though that does bring to mind her chef-like tendencies,
plopping strawberries on my tongue with little tidbits
of Wisconsin sharp cheddar)
It could just be, that life according to Miss Ooh-La-La
couldn't get any better ...

... then again it could just be
I'm waxing eloquently.


Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2016

Details | Back To The Drawing Board Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Destroyer Vs Gareth James (Round 2)

James Gareth is what you call me Destroyer
No charge but released by a good lawyer 
A technicality as my names Gareth James!
That’s Gareth first, now I’ve shot you down in flames!

Oh, and my H.C. Hammers, did you want them back?
They may need a wash as they’ve been half way up my crack.
I know they are your favourite undercover police clothes
The cap that came with it, you want that back I suppose?

That must be the cap you was on about?

You shot me! Zap, Zap zigidy Zap
Is that all you could come up with? Put on your thinking cap!
Back to the drawing board, you must go
Find some words, none of yours offend me so!

I called you hot, I remember, for that I know
I meant the humid heat coming from your big toe!
My words of yesterday may rot like you said
Mother nature and I, we share the same bed ;-)

I’m surprised you know what a Haiku is?
Maybe you should hang in your gloves, and try a kids quiz?
I think you need to chose a brand new name
Your reputation now, has been shot down in a flame

Destroyed my poetry, for you have not
Your name again, remind me, for I have forgot?

(I said it would take me a while PD!!! Good fun to write though!!)
For poets seeing this for the first time, it is fun autherised fun between the poets involved! 
No new blogs needed!!!


Copyright © Gareth James | Year Posted 2010

Details | Back To The Drawing Board Poem | Create an image from this poem.

The Eye is Such a Braggart

The eye is such a braggart with its emerald this and hazel that.
Does no one dream about an ear or a nose?
(personally ... I find the shin and pinkie toe quite fascinating)
But it is a place the Poet seldom goes,
still hot on cornea fever ... stanza after stanza after

stanza.

It's like I'm part of a Dickens' novel: A Tale of Two Spheres      (oh dear)
Velvet pupils coming at you ... (attention spans beware ... we're discussing EYES)

... but what about the palms and the cowlick?
(do you have the gumption to make it poetic?)

Or is it back to the drawing board - sleepless nights
excavating further facets of the dead-lights.

I know its "infinite depths" make you sigh with Shakespearean fervor,
but really, enough is enough,
when there's so much more of me to love.

Have you so quickly forgotten the beauty of a rose?
(plug your nose and see how it goes)
I want so bad to see that lovely weirdness
chilling out beneath your temples.

I pray it's not too much to ask for a little ink spilled
to the one who showed you piano,
the sound of rain, your mother's voice.

(that curious curvature holding up your glasses
deserves a rhyme or two
... not another verse
about my baby blues!)

Just once I wanna hear someone say,
Your nose makes my heart run ...
Your chewed off fingernail brings to mind the crescent moon ... !

For your next Magnum Opus could you spare some room
for the underdog anatomy.

Did you know I have a crooked ear that's more endearing
than a heart carved into a tree?

Didn't think so!      (iris hog)


Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2016

Details | Back To The Drawing Board Poem | Create an image from this poem.

A Letter Never Written

I sat down many times to write a letter to you. I could never figure out what to say after the greeting. Have you ever felt the same way? To begin a letter and never have a single word to say because you begin and end my sentences? That's what the most sincere form of love is... What did you say?... Yes, and it is the best home baked bread since apple pie too... Oh, I just love you! How can I contain my heart from allowing these emotions to leak out? Perhaps I will sit back down and try to formulate the perfect letter! Or perhaps I will just call you? I can never make up my mind!

Funny; relationships. I was never good at them. How about you? I made it to the two week mark and then I just threw in the towel. I have ran out of towels and I have run out of glue too. There is not a single word left to be said and  I still can't come up with a single word to write to you. Back to the drawing board again!

g. rix
1-12-15


Copyright © Gwendolen Song | Year Posted 2015

Details | Back To The Drawing Board Poem | Create an image from this poem.

back to the drawing board

The ignominy of buying and 
selling 
Is disgustingly despicable 
The church of God 
Has lost its taste 
Its flavour diminished 

The worldly purview 
Is warming its way into the 
church 
Money is the order of the day 

The taxonomy has to change 
So as not to bring the name of 
God 
Into disrepute.... 

The drawing board we must 
go 
Checkmating ourselves...so 
this excesses will not condemn 
us 
By not giving to ceasar what 
belongs to ceasar 

In Gods presence 
You reverence Him in its 
entirety 
Not hiding under the backdrop 
Of christian resource materials 
being sold 

Let's change and digress from 
this sinful way 
Before change changes us


Copyright © oluwatomiwo Akinyemi | Year Posted 2013

Details | Back To The Drawing Board Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Obscured Lenses

First look, glasses as my eyes glance
From left to right I begin to read
Much as if I were in a trance
My education faulted for this deed

Second look with randomness I search
Looking for a pattern, no not the glasses
Does this person attends a formal church
This poem is one of their trespasses

Third look now the compulsion takes me
The poem was edited to fit the picture
But I say this isn’t possible, it can’t be
If so they surely deserve a stricture

Three looks, glasses or not, all were done in vain
If you copy, paste, add punctuation then it’s plain

Poem by Wayland Bunch for Occlusion contest. This is a rhymed form of poetry under 20 lines, but technically it fits better into the category of Sonnet, so I don't know if it will be accepted. If not back to the drawing board lol.


Copyright © wayland bunch | Year Posted 2013

Details | Back To The Drawing Board Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Cure The Blur

Sleep is fleeting my insides are bleeding
Always on call of duty shine and sheen
I stand outside myself peering from ledge
to cage within-this monster they made-
killing machine
Try to pull self up by the bootstraps
resolve not to wither n' deteriorate-
no more eating all that crap
Oh I made a gallant effort to run
with the rest of the pack-circling-
tearing up the meat-the flying of the fleece
But when pill's fizzing
n' TV's tipping
maybe it's just as well her sensuous pout
remain framed thru window n' mirror's glass piece
So I look down a long empty hallway- nothing changes-
scum! their little feet like rats just scamper by
Now at the top of the T.
only way to go's one way or the other-
do a tally at the rally?- or do the work they should do-
n' be a deliverer on high

They gave me my marching orders
Now down muddy rivers n' indistinguishable borders
Finally got my mission but it's not so cut n'dried
I stand on the boat from the water's edge
All my training still horrified
don't know how to justify killing a Colonel
who's clearly flipped
n' this dense unforgiving jungle's
got his brain totally fried
Back to the drawing board I reinstate
as the rockets in the night fly
piercing screams n' cries
just gotta do what I'm supposed to do-
clean the slate
Oh I guess I'm part of the bigger picture
yet I find hard to distinguish
Who are the drug runners-
n' commie gunners?
The lines are truly blurred
But that crazy Colonel's talk
makes my eyes glaze
besides thru the opium haze
his speech is slurred
so the sacrifice's ready 
for the chopping block
So as the plane at last
lifts off from the runway
is my work really done?
'cause I just know one day
I'll face little Napoleon children
who'll grow into gruesome meglomaniacs
n' just take his place

Here I am rolling thru the dusty outback
straining paining to flee
or see the place I cracked
of course I'm not even sure
if I'm officially still on the force
doesn't matter either way
they're running amuck out there
n' they surely gotta pay
N' the road rash is fresh n' gleaming
n' my supercharged cruiser's
flipping n' careening
even though my leather's unravelling
i'm fueled by revenge n' hate
So naturally I'm not gonna
sit 'round n' wait
for some passive judge
to be gavelling
So I stare ahead as the wispy heat
rises off the road
The engine rumbles
my dog grumbles
I remind myself n' console
the scared couple
under rubble of their rollover
don't wanna kill 'em
just gotta get their petro n' go.
9-7-2015 Duncan R.M.Ferguson


Copyright © Duncan R. M. Ferguson | Year Posted 2016

Details | Back To The Drawing Board Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Back to the drawing board

Lost in my own sorrow
can't even keep a friend
My constant source and window
just slammed in my face
Chalk lines and smudge marks
travel across my face
I just wish to be held
and someone to hear my fears
Anxiety builds
and screws with my mind
One more day and everything
will most likely be fine


Copyright © Michelle McDermin | Year Posted 2011

Details | Back To The Drawing Board Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Time Will Tell

7/28/17


My soul I will never sell
Even if I got to go through hell
Time will tell
If I'll excel
And propel
Doing poorly or swell
Wherever I dwell
Crooked or parallel from any citadel
And hotel
Are you the lion, cheetah or gazelle?

Can't afford to lack
Got to stay on track
At the drop of a hat
In the daylight or pitch black
Anywhere on the map
They can yap
And talk crap
But we'll see who has the last laugh

Onward and upward
Got to cut the mustard
Without being stubborn
No matter if I get a sunburn


With or without parachute cord
And a sword
Back to the drawing board
Still out to explore for even more
Moving toward
A place far away from the swarm
As well as any horde
Regardless of if it still gets cold and warm

Losing interest or rather adamant and passionate
Occasionally may be the devil's advocate
Among objects in motion or inanimate
Trying my best to stay afloat in ways that are adequate
On purpose this is no accident


Copyright © Dalton Ogletree | Year Posted 2017

Details | Back To The Drawing Board Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Take it Slow

Speaking and living off experience, what I've experienced goes against what I know, like I should take it slow, slow down my emotions I'm soaking in love because I love that feeling, but the cards I been dealing is sort of like the cards I been dealt. I sink head first instead of just taking it slow, so I end up with a lot of deleted numbers, text messages, and burned pictures Yeah I'm filled with love but still I'm drowning in this pitcher I drink from. Painting perfect pictures with my imperfect hands, Yeah I what this and I really need that look at my check list can I really give it back. I'll admit it sometimes I'm double minded but I put away those thoughts like never mind it, trying to align it with what I would like to call Ms. Right, there's no such thing most people change overnight, so in light of my new discovery having the rug pulled right from under me I hate this feeling so I go back to the drawing board, write a new blueprint that's fits me fundamentally and hopefully to find someone that I'm mentally spiritually & emotionally compatible with, story of my life right I guess I'll just dismantle it again. There's no rush I know chalk it up to me always getting so caught up ready to give my all it's amazing this heart of mine isn't tore up, but I guess with every short story I have more to tell than actually show, it's hard to take your own advice sometimes, but I gotta stay meek with the next one and just take it slow.


Copyright © Corey Ross | Year Posted 2015

Details | Back To The Drawing Board Poem | Create an image from this poem.

BACK TO SQUARE ONE

It seems you’ve already made up your mind
Rescinded decisions is what u made of l see
Something you need to know pretty well
Before you single out your property and leave 
That l got no compunctions at all for the path l took
I won’t even curse the day l met u
Neither shall l even consider forgetting
 The very moment when love got sour
But cherish l will the moments we had
 Some of those we held too dear
I hope you'll get the compulsory ingredient 4 your recipe
Cope, cope and cope
Cope with your life devoid of me
Cope with your sleep without my arms around you
Cope with your sorrows without me for consolation
Cope with your joys without me to give it the life it takes
I guess you got a message for me
The bells already ring loudly with clarity
 To remind me that my time is over
Back to the drawing board l have to return it seems
Now club Monaco awaits me
To hit the pool balls one at a time
As l swallow one, two or more for the road 
As l premeditate ma life without you
And get back as you sent mi.....
TO SQUARE ONE!!


Copyright © KIHARA EZRA | Year Posted 2011

Details | Back To The Drawing Board Poem | Create an image from this poem.

when the secret gets out

she found the best pair of shoes,
she found the best pair of kicks,
she found a shirt that matched the both of
em’ &
she was just 
ecstatic,
to say the least---
but somewhere along the way,
before she even wore the combo,
before she got to leave the house,
before she got to 
live that new day 
sparkling on the inside as the 
madam of all 
orgiastic 
consumption,
the secret got out.

she couldn’t place her finger on it,
just what “friend” found out & then
spread the rumor,
but now every woman she knows,
has a sense of where she got her deals &
more importantly, if they chose to,
now every woman that she knows
can get clothing at those places & now,
this american consuming beauty
needs to go back to the drawing board,
armed with her plastic &
the anger welling up within
from having ever trusted 
anyone.


Copyright © andrew delapruch | Year Posted 2013

Details | Back To The Drawing Board Poem | Create an image from this poem.

THE INTERPRETER

HERE COMES THE IN SECURITY
VOICI L' INSECURITE

THAT WALKS GRADUALLY
QUI SE DEROULE UN PEU

SHE ENTERS THE STAGE
ELLE VIENT A L'ENDROIT

LIKE SICKNESS IN THE BODY
COMME LA MALADIE DU CORPS

RESEARCHERS MAKE RECOMMENDATIONS
LES CHERCHEURS FONT LEUR  RECOMMENDATIONS

THE PARTICIPANTS REMAIN AKIMBO
LES PARTICIPANTS, AVEC LEUR POINGTS SUR LEUR HANCHES

THE EVENT INSECURITY
L' EVENNEMENT INSECURITE

PROFITABLE TO THE ACTIVE PARTICIPANTS
LUCRATIVES AUX PARTICIPANTS ACTIFS

THE WISDOM OF THE RESEARCHERS
LA SAGESSE DES CHERCHEURS

NOT PROFITABLE TO THE ACTIVE PARTICIPANTS
NON LUCRATIVES AUX PARTICIPANTS ACTIFS

THE PRIORITY OF  THE WISDOM
LE PREMIER POINT DU SAGESSE

ENGAGE THE YOUTH
EMPLOYONS LES JEUNNEE

THE HUNTER LIKE AN INTERPRETER
LES CHASSEUR COMME UN TRADUCTEUR

BLOWN THE WHSTLE
DONNE UN COUP DE SIFFLET

GERINIA, GO BACK TO THE DRAWING BOARD
GERINIA,RETOURNE VITE A LA PLANCHE


Copyright © AJAYI RASHEED | Year Posted 2013

Details | Back To The Drawing Board Poem | Create an image from this poem.

RARE SCULPTURE

I saw your face from afar
You took me by total surprise 
I’ve never seen such beauty
You were like a rare sculpture 
Your physique was so masculine 
You literally  took my breath away 
If you were just some dream 
I never wanted to wake up
I was under your spell
You were so captivating 
And mesmerizing 
Where did you come from
Wait you starting to fade
Dam! You're just a fantasy
Back to the drawing board 


Copyright © Alexis Y. | Year Posted 2017

Details | Back To The Drawing Board Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Senses

What are Senses?
A sense of touch
A sense of smell
A sense of faith.

What happens when they are gone?
Scattered to the wind
Weathered by the storm
Coming up empty.

What do we do then?
Start from scratch
Back to the drawing board
Turning over that leaf.

Will we ever be the same?
Time is indifferent
Wounds will heal
Scars remain.


Copyright © Alicia Koch | Year Posted 2014

Details | Back To The Drawing Board Poem | Create an image from this poem.

The Road Not Taken-The Reincarnation

The False Prophet took a piece of paper out of his pocket. It was a poem. While 
writing it, he remembered, he felt like he was solving a puzzle. Originally, when 
Joe Kaye first developed the theory that he had left a message for himself in a 
past life, he thought he might have been Robert Frost. He had written this poem, 
to either prove that he was or wasn’t the reincarnation of Robert Frost. After 
writing it he still couldn’t decide, and he still didn’t know what the message was 
that he had supposedly left for himself. He read the paper to himself. This is 
what was written on it.  

The Road Not Taken-The Reincarnation 
 
TWO paths emerged in greenish pasture
And since it was impossible to go down both
I thought which way would get me to my destination faster?
And wondered if speed was important when running the race
Isn’t it objective that matters and not the pace? 

I went down the beaten path with grass so long 
Which was dark and twisting, with no end in sight
And even though I stood tall and strong
I wondered if I had wandered wrong
And philosophized if there was such a thing as wrong or right

Although each path was equally unstable
The one I strayed down had more twists and turns
Oh I kept the second path for another fable 
Yet knowing how stall leads to stable
I was certain I would never return

I revisit this with a pondering thought
And years from now reflecting on the past
Two paths diverged and still I fought 
And took the one that’s hardly sought 
And that has made my happiness so much more vast.
 
 In the end he decided he was not the reincarnation of Robert Frost, and went 
back to the drawing board studying more writers and poets.
 
Excerpt From: The Chemicals Between Us
By: Joseph DeMarco


Copyright © Joseph DeMarco | Year Posted 2006

Details | Back To The Drawing Board Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Sleeping Satellite

In a mass of black out there in the beyond
Planets we know are in mirror respond

This vast we know as space in our time
All the planets are round symmetrical in rhyme

Will it's orbital allowance defy negative stream
Or is it back to the drawing board for man to again dream

Spaceships cubed with edges severe
When Warp allows will our technology wear

We live in a streamline, a streamline world
Our planet in decline but will our future be heard

The lucky ones will see, out there
For the unfortunate, saying goodbye in stare

And all they will see, is the moon in their sight
As their earth will become, another sleeping satellite






http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/space.php





Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2010

Details | Back To The Drawing Board Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Take it slow

Speaking and living off experience, 
what I've experienced goes against 
what I know, like I should take it 
slow, slow down my emotions I'm 
soaking in love because I love that 
feeling, but the cards I been dealing 
is sort of like the cards I been dealt. 
I sink head first instead of just 
taking it slow, so I end up with a lot 
of deleted numbers, text messages, 
and burned pictures Yeah I'm filled 
with love but still I'm drowning in 
this pitcher I drink from. Painting 
perfect pictures with my imperfect 
hands, Yeah I what this and I really 
need that look at my check list can I 
really give it back. I'll admit it 
sometimes I'm double minded but I 
put away those thoughts like never 
mind it, trying to align it with what I 
would like to call Ms. Right, there's 
no such thing most people change 
overnight, so in light of my new 
discovery having the rug pulled right 
from under me I hate this feeling so 
I go back to the drawing board, 
write a new blueprint that's fits me 
fundamentally and hopefully to find 
someone that I'm mentally 
spiritually & emotionally compatible 
with, story of my life right I guess I'll 
just dismantle it again. There's no 
rush I know chalk it up to me always 
getting so caught up ready to give 
my all it's amazing this heart of 
mine isn't tore up, but I guess with 
every short story I have more to tell 
than actually show, it's hard to take 
your own advice sometimes, but I 
gotta stay meek with the next one 
and just take it slow.


Copyright © Corey Ross | Year Posted 2012

Details | Back To The Drawing Board Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Second thoughts

People have second thoughts all the time. With no reason or rhyme It is even a mystery to many. second thoughts happen all the time I had this happen to me just recently Thinking I would get published, what was I thinking! Putting my self out there is way too scarey Second thoughts happen quiet frequently. Well I guess it is back to the drawing board for me I will just wait a bit longer to see If my dream becomes my reality Second thoughts happen more then you know I' m hiding again in my shadows I am having second thoughts on this publishing thing.


Copyright © cory long | Year Posted 2011

Details | Back To The Drawing Board Poem | Create an image from this poem.

COLD-FEET!

Every time I see you, I am afraid to look 
For fear that I may stare, and my awe of you will be mistook 
As not a symbol of my adoration, but of something otherwise 
That's why when you look at me, I tend to avert my eyes 
I am not worthy to behold the beauty that you possess 
I have you in the forefront, and in the recess...of my mind I always seem to find the words 
to say, 
But when I open my mouth in your presence, those same words slip away 
Now finally I've regained control of my vocal chord 
But my moment with you has past back to the drawing board 
I mentally coach myself: next time don't be so tense; 
And when you speak to her, say something that makes sense; 
Don't be afraid, just let it all go 
I see you again, and my confidence goes from high to low 
My hands get all sweaty, I'm just not ready to be with someone seeming so perfect 
My mind says tell her how you feel, 
but I can't...I'm just too nervous!!!


Copyright © Arcene Janvier | Year Posted 2010

Details | Back To The Drawing Board Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Stratagem

If the foe is far too strong for you today,
just save your strength, backtrack very cautiously
that you may still live to fight another day;

go back to the drawing board immediately,
a prudent  retreat really matters as much
as a crushing assault carried out quickly;

patience, guile, perfect timing make the difference,
there are no flawless stratagems of attack,
only short-sighted strategies of defense!


Copyright © romeo naces | Year Posted 2008

Details | Back To The Drawing Board Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Back To The Drawing Board

B-ack to the drawing board, 
O-verhaul the system; 
B-egin to start once more, to avoid any mayhem.

M-ake another new plan
O-f action if you fail; 
I-ntroduce fresh products, 
S-oar to increase your sale. 
E-arly twenty-fifth of August, you haven't received reward; 
S-tand up and think again, go back to the drawing board.


Copyright © Bernard F. Asuncion | Year Posted 2017

Details | Back To The Drawing Board Poem | Create an image from this poem.

The winner is

The winner
   
Everybody wants to succeed,
Triumph over victories 
Attain higher goals,
Win the prize,
Come...first place,
Well...I....do......
Human...I think!

In third place...... is!!!!!!

Heart starts to...pound,
Time stands still,
Wishing and hoping.
This time....this time,
Don't want come third though!
Would rather be first,
Never mind....didn't get it anyway,

Second...place....is!!!!!!

Please...please
Pick me...pick me,
My work is good,
Or....I think it is,

Worked really hard for it,
Pictured my self receiving the award,
Been positive,
Brain starts to say...
Didn't really want second,
But better than nothing,

Now this is the...moment...
Everybody has been waiting for....

In....first place...
The grand winner...of...2017 is,

I'm...thinking!!!!!!
Is it me...it's me..
Excitement is killing,
I'm flying high....up in the rafters,
Suspense is gripping,

What a disappointment...
Ok...never mind...
May be next time,
No...no...am fine...
Not upset...
Yes am ok....really
They did a better job,
They deserve it...more,

Congratulations...to all the winners,
You've done really well,

I'm coming down,
Hitting...rock bottom,
Emotions on the floor,
Come back from the moon,
Back to reality 

May be...next time,
Back to the drawing board.
One day...I will win.......
Could have got...second or third,
Wouldn't have minded that....
Lol 

Ok...you want It now,
Ha....ha....
Changed your mind,
So funny.
Should get an award for your humour

Wendy Jae


Copyright © Wendy Rycroft | Year Posted 2017