Best Cramming Poems


Premium Member The Bard of Gort

Springing free from glistening 
Fronds
The summers heat leaps for 
Height;
Whilst drifting obscurely far
Above 
A distant lark now hangs in 
Flight.

Floats down his sweet trill,
Accompanied by joyous and
Uplifting revelry,
Over the black crows nasal 
Calls;
Whose draped shadow,
contemplating devilry,
Flaps and furtively falls 
Into ripening bean fields 
Planted in neatly sowed rows:
Nourished in darkest till,
Enriched by pedantic verse of
Gaelic odes.

Do now these gentle Slopes 
Pause to yield
Where secretive song,
Bursting forth, is much concealed 
inside the plain of Aidhne;
For here the great rock of the 
Burren,
Whereby so implored upon,
Revealed its grey stones...
To rebuild ancient and deserted 
Thoor Ballylee.

Sweeping briskly past a tors 
Grassy island busy in bloom,
Eagerly cramming under four
Crouched arches,
Skim the borrowed waters of 
Thee immortal Cloone;
Dappling currents
Dawdling around squat stanchions -
Staunchly carrying the quiet bridge 
Over the old concourse:
Momentarily loitering -
Wantonly begging to coyly swoon...

Now, joyfully sporting in gushing 
Discourse,
Gleefully courting elusive and
Glimmering enchantments:
Mirrored reflections enticed to
Enter -
To be forever trapped within a 
Burbling rivers sacred rhyme and
Tune.

Higher and higher the spiraling
Stairs of de Burgo
When through airy woodland 
Glades
The towering shadow sought;
And higher and higher the spirit 
Of an ageing poet...
His crowding thoughts
Roaming freely amidst these
Fabled legends of Gort.

Harken then to the feathered 
Herald -
Tis Gods design that calls on 
Ye!
For few men know of what he 
Sings...
He sings of the forgotten paths 
Forever lost within Innisfree.
Categories: cramming, memory,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member X

In those bleak fields that so quietly lie - stilled as graves,
Between where the thin wind creaks and upwardly heaves,
Unseen feet can sometimes be heard 
Shuffling through the old woods discarded leaves.

For i have seen those strange distant lights
That detach themselves from heavens spilling crowds;
When dropping over the blindside of the little ridge
They rise to leap from cloud to cloud.

Impossible angles of inexplicable darting momentum -
Inwardly gyrating wheels now ingeniously turning;
Marvelous these the strange crafts of unknown design...
Yes - I have seen the night skies burning!

For well i remember as a reckless child
How i stole out to ascend that one forbidden hill:
Cast deep plans, set the clock ticking accordingly,
Rose, wrapped myself against Novembers raw chill.

Deep inside the Beech-hanger the Plough was struggling,
And over the despairing holt a devisive breeze...
As, of a sudden, on the edge of swirling darkness -
Showered particles upon vapourous ethers so violently seized!

Oh the hissing bolts of sizzling electrons -
Brilliance of colours like a dying meteors last rites!
Anti-Graviton paradox of mastered equational conundrum 
Igniting the latent freeze within winters sharp night.

Radiant orb held aligned by polar-opposites forceful lines,
Spinning upon a singular point with such consummate ease;
Roaring furiously liken fabled dragon of Arthurian legend,
Hot breath licking across lines of illuminated trees.

Momentary seconds that crept alongside an age enraptured
Amidst tumbling thoughts of  - "Just another Alien abductee"!
Then, gently tilting starboard, accelerating smoothly away,
Vanishing over the stacks and tiled rooftops of nearby Walton-Lea.

Often have i wistfully pondered in ever hopeful, watchful years:
What was it so witnessed as it hung before me in suspended flight?
And - with many cramming thoughts - groping for answers sought -
Recalling the wondrous moment of such an awe-inspiring sight!
Categories: cramming, mystery,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Good Riddance

I welcomed you twenty twenty, a brand spanking new year
But all you brought with you was death, misery and fear
So I'll be glad to see the back of you and cant wait 'till you're gone
And I hope for better times in the year twenty twenty one.

You've left behind some' bad stuff' like covid nineteen
But hopefully it'll be defeated when they roll out the vaccine
Wearing masks and not seeing family, well that's been quite hard
But while you still lurk about, I won't drop my guard.

World leaders were floundering, not quick enough to act
Putting their economies before people and that is a fact
If only they'd looked at history, like the great Spanish flu
They'd have been a lot wiser and would've known what to do.

The news reported acts of kindness in every country
Like front line health workers who risked their lives for humanity
Sadly many of those brave heroes died needlessly
Because governments were too slow to provide proper  P. P. E.

Viruses are nothing new and they'll come back again
We must stop destroying mother earth for financial gain
Upsetting natures balance causes these viruses to thrive
Mankind really needs to take notice if he wants to survive.

Cramming animals into cages is a pitiful sight
But mother nature is watching and is preparing to fight
Razing forests and dumping rubbish and polluting the sea
Is a recipe for disaster that'll bring untold misery.

So good riddance or go do one, many people will say
I'd remove all records of you if I had my way
People will always remember you for bringing misery and tears
And there will be much joy and relief as twenty twenty one nears.

When the clock strikes midnight, so happy I'll be
As twenty twenty sinks into the dark annals of history
But stay awake mankind and listen to the experts that know
I don't want to be the one saying "well I told you so".


Written 27th December  2020

2020 to 2021 Poetry Contest

Sponsored by Mohan Chutani
Categories: cramming, death, goodbye, new year,
Form: Rhyme

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member discordant notes

This morning we jogged early
I was back in my flat by six-thirty
From my tenth floor view of the Charles River basin,
The morning was incandescently flushed by the peach-colored sun.
The transparent clouds seemed stylistically stained, artfully workshopped,
which offered a softened, Tiffany glass effect wholly worthy of worship.

I can’t stop to admire it. I’m jamming things into suitcases.
Cramming things into boxes, giving things away.

I had a second interview Monday afternoon, for Johns Hopkins med school. They put the question to me:
“The semester starts in 18 days - can you do that?”
“Yes,” I replied, and just like that, I'm a Blue Jay.
Of course, I had to withdraw from the masters program but Harvard gave me a full (95K) refund - I think they’re more excited about my med school admission than I am.

I’m not afraid of discordant notes.
They change the landscape.
Take us to new emotional places.
Any major work is going to have them.
.
.
A song for this:
Hang on Little Tomato by Pink Martini
It's Amazing by Jem
Categories: cramming, humor, leaving, morning, motivation,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member A Place No One Likes To Be

I know a place; no one likes to be there,
yet nearly everyone I know has gone
to sit with trepidation in a chair,
and then reclined, each person sits and drools
while helplessly they stare up at the face
of someone who is cramming too big tools
inside their mouth, which has too small a space -
too little space to have to let inside
large forceps or that vacuum that lets pass
the grime collecting in mouths open wide!
Perhaps some go just for the laughing gas!
But go we must - and sit still for the drill,
enough sometimes to make a grown man ill.

Written June 17, 2016 
for the If it hurts so bad, why do we do it? Poetry Contest of  Silent One
Categories: cramming, pain,
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member I Paused, She Paused

Two months after graduation I dialed her number, 8 - 1 - 8,
                                                                                               I paused…
 maybe Sue's forgotten me?                              
 well I'll never know if I don't try      
 we spoke of our college days
 of late nights cramming for music theory exams    
 of songs we wrote (together)
 for her beautiful soprano voice
 "Would you like to have dinner sometime?"             I asked
                                                                                            she paused…
 "I'm in a relationship"       "Hey, I'm happy for you"    I lied
 and went on with my life                                            
 34 years went by

Oct 7th, 2016                               
 I had just finished loading the dishwasher
 she dialed my number              
 it was her 56th birthday              she was alone
 we spoke of our careers                    
 of late nights watching classic movies
 of songs we wrote (not together)       
 one of hers made it on the radio:      'Hold Me In Your Eyes'           
 Sue said she wrote those lyrics thinking of how I used to look at her
 so intently, never looking away              
                                                                                            she paused…
 "Would you like to have dinner sometime?"                          
                                                                                                I paused…
 "I'm in a relationship"                   "Hey, I'm happy for you"



Views For Poems Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Funom Makama
The following are to be included in the poem -
My most viewed poem: Hold Me In Your Eyes
Number of views: 818
Poetry form: Lyric
Date published: 7 October, 2016
© John Watt  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: cramming, crush, lost love, song,
Form: Free verse


I Was So Happy

all the pheromones circled around me
without knowing, we will gather you all
and we make a world
you draw like the silver treacherous snails
pressed intersections
some over others in translucent layers
ah, here, this is the time you said
and we gather around
all around
extreme words and states

I was photographing the world with one cyclopean eye
cramming it into one night
glasses, cups, plates
how many sets I broke
stockings how many pairs I broke
a silky mountain to circulate mathematical butterflies
invented by the statistics of the managers
on the thighs

and house noises
on the dress painted by your hug

we were young
we are working on an abyssal constellation
our bodies craved warmth
and the hugs
and expectations
friends were watching us too
getting under their skin I was growing
move forward
I made leaves and flowers
and they gave birth to other planets
and other trajectories
and other plans were intertwined

we cannot say that the walking has slowed down
and neither did I forget
I waited until everyone arrived
so far away
that no sound was heard
shouting from one to another

density increased and voices
they were impregnated as the leaves in the geological layers
one of us will have to come
from the future
to research them
to understand what I said today

so far we have each come
that
it will be necessary that on the wall of this embrace
to give birth to children
let's give birth to voices that forget us
Categories: cramming, beautiful, giving, happy, romance,
Form: Free verse

Anagrammatic

ANAGRAMMATIC Poetry Form

An anagram mantra
Gramma acting manic 
Mama in a catamaran, cramming in a cigar
A martian mating in mint gin
A cat antic, grit at a rat act
Magma in a tin, anti-gamma rant
A tram cart ramming a car mart
Magi antic tracing air art
Gain magic in a grim margin
Am I an ant? A racing gnat?
I grin at rain, I’m a maniac again
Tag. I am it. ;)
Categories: cramming, magic, nonsense,
Form: Other

hers her's and hers'

.
           I saw her's at the
                 distance

          I tried the whistle
             It flew out like
              tweety bird's
         caught by sylvester
              featherz and
                     all

              hern     soon
                    oke
                 choked

                 Hitherto
              i whistle not
                at       fine
                   hers'
                   her's
               lets     lips
                   mine
                    not



*i ofttimes spill the nouns  (the)hers 
                                                    :>shemales; i meant, females..(did so ')
                                       (the)shes
 
      therefore I explicate and may the poetic astute
      accept mine artistic license :)  hers: females... 'period'                                      
                                                  shes: the feminine plural ;) oh stop ,)
                edvard'z lisp and *sensitive feel>  (fem~i~nine)
                    ^:uh wight guy ')     her's: possessive 
                     * oke^                   hern: belongs to her e.g. her's, in the broader sence; 'twuz her decision I.e; the poet, can say "her breast were in mine maws", yet, wus it her decision that her breast were there(the 'terse' poet would need to explicate, cramming hiz lisp with unnecessary werdz)..but, if the poet (i exspecially)exclaimed; "hern" breast were in mine maws", hiz readerz intuitively would know,  that 'she gave' her breast up willingly(her decide). If the poet exclaimed; "hern pussie wuz pink" 
                            ^('she' lets poet see     it's 
                                                         pink
                                                         etc.)
i pray there be shes reserving sum hern for mine           
indulge....words...that's what i well i tried to meant ')
Categories: cramming, analogy, imagery,
Form: Dramatic Verse

Final Exam Stress

I want to pull my hair out and scream
why does school have to be so mean...

Packets upon packets thrown in my face
I wish my mother would get off my case.

It doesn't matter if there's A's or B's
Those aren't as important as my non-existent degree!

Why must I have so much to do,
I wish I could sue!

I'm running around everywhere and cramming
My throat and mind are clamming.

I was always so prepared in the past
But now I feel like I'm dead last!

My mind is blank and can't process a thing
It's almost as slow as my laptop ping!

Wish me luck
Because this is going to suck.
© Skylar C.  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: cramming, 10th grade, anxiety, feelings,
Form: Couplet

Learning English

When I start learning English grammar,
My heart falters and my tongue tremors.
An amorous poem, When I wrote,
People don't like, don't even quote ,

Standing, sitting, or sleeping, my heart disabuses, 
Brain from the idle thoughts and misuses,
Of noun, pronoun, adverb, and adjective,
So I feel fine with a sane state of subjective,

Learning lexicon and vocabulary,
An imperceptible approach to disarray,
It seems I am flogging a dead horse, 
But it's not like cramming morse,
 
The more I learn about this exotic,
Dialect and accent which makes dramatic,
Whole German, French, and Latin compound,
Is this chemistry or seems a latent sound,
 
All my senses now take part in this chemical reaction.
To read, listen, write, and speak with utmost correction,
English itself is a math, physics, and chemistry, 
A science of linguistics and a science of mystery.
Categories: cramming, humor,
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member The Utopia Untrodden

Have seen an utopian lane, amidst the thicket, latent In the abode of the clouds, in the lap of  the tranquil wilderness, far far away from the mundane mist! 
A  wheezing sparsely inhabited hamlet, Khonoma, a centuries- old settlement, so green, so serene!
 Its' pristine unsullied views, lush wilderness, verdant bushes, aromatic wild blooms, resplendent orchids, rippling rills, are untouched and sacred! 

The Angami tribes, the thorpes' dwellers lead an uncustomary simple life, crammed with ancient, timeless traditions and practices, with nature's absolute accord! 

The unique panaromic cultivation practice, terrace farming, sprawling on the slopes makes the very sight elating! 
Look, the remote richest biodiversity region is twirling with the endemic scented native flora and fauna, the boscage are cramming with untamed wild colourful fruits! 

The revered cultural bird, the grey-billed Tragpon, is intoning from the bushes, making the milieu frolic! 
Myriads of colourful birds are migrating to nestle in the sacred bushes of the mystic rills! 
The  pellucid drops from the misty mesas of  nearby cascades are playing with the colourful pebbles! 

Far from the pandemic, the cherubic hilly terrain is bustling with cerulean rills, shrouded by tropical rain forests and stepped paddy fields! 

How finite are the rustic folks' wants and needs, the primitive shanties to dwell, the crystal cascades to quench, the crops of the golden fields to feed the mouths, the vibrant fiestas with nature's changing seasons to celebrate! 

A paragon of men and nature in absolute  harmony, is lying placidly, the transcendental picturesque tableland, Khonoma, the wheezing green hamlet, an utopia untrodden to bless the naive natives of the far flung highland! 

" Sometimes in quest of no man's Utopia, we may miss the existing unleashed Utopia in proximity, yet untrodden " Quote by poet

 November 11th 2021
Contest: " U"  contest, New Poems Only
Sponsored by: Constane La France
Categories: cramming, appreciation, beauty, culture, farm,
Form: Pastoral

Premium Member No Remembrance

My doctor says, as we grow older,
and keep cramming stuff into our brain,
sooner or later, it has to dump.

Is this really true?
Or, is it simply a doctor's excuse
for something to which he has no answer?

Somewhere along the way, I've lost
complete blocks of time, entire days or nights,
pleasant events which others remember,
but I cannot recall, at all.

Some episodes have staying power,
like the time I fell off the ladder,
flipped, and slid down the stairs
to the basement, head first. Who
could forget those raccoon eyes
I wore for weeks afterward?

Before you reminded me of the lunch
we shared, on the way to Wyoming,
with rain pelting the windowpane,
it had been erased from my memory bank.

That murder mystery I read last year,
is new again, a rediscovered story
to be enjoyed once more.

Yet, in all the moves we've made,
all the churches you've served as Pastor,
the conferences/workshops we've attended,
the companies we've worked for,
it's the people I remember -

the names, the faces, the smiles,
the friendships, these are the things
I treasure, and these memories will linger,
these memories will never erase.
© Cona Adams  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: cramming, age, memory,
Form: Free verse

Exams

Sitting surrounded amidst the heap, 

Like a gale or like a storm 
They come every year every month 
All the cheer they sweep aside 
All a sudden Heavy books heavy pile
With dark bags under every eye

Cramming night sleeping daytime 
Drowsiness engulfs from the backside 
Head up focused yet mind outside 
Ticking clock running the time 
3,4,5,6
Mental trauma making way inside.
Categories: cramming, 12th grade, anxiety, eve,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Abraham Lincoln's Memorial 1969

The alarm clock sang out, my dad jumps up 
rushes me into the kitchen, today my love 
is indeed, a very special day for you, my eyes 
wide shut, as he continued, explaining civil rights
 
Cramming memories, into my little head I mean 
I'd remember sitting, on my Nona's lap as, 
Martin Luther King was killed in Birmingham 
my entire family, regressed into deep sadness
 
Aging over night perhaps, so did I ,our last names 
were Parks and King, let me tell you, during the 
60's in Chicago, if a riot broke out our names, 
were instantly called, over tornado speakers 

Sound off Mohammed speaks, we were rushed 
into dark sedans, being slowly driven down, 
Roosevelt road this was 1969 first grade 
I was preparing, to visit Lincoln's home,
 
and tomb mom combed, through my curl's, 
my grandmother ,rubbed Vaseline on my face elbows, 
and knees ,this big fuss over me, I was actually named 
after Martins daughter, well Miss. Yolanda king
 
you get to sing, on the steps of Lincoln's memorial, 
Marian Anderson's hymn, sometimes I feel like a 
motherless child, afterwards the Supreme Court Justice,
we were mourning ,with happy tears, these brown face's 
doting on me, five generations in my mist 
           standing in line, to give me a big kiss

Anthony and Yolanda Joy Nicholsen Catholic War Veterans
Categories: cramming, grief, memorial,
Form: Dramatic Monologue
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