Best Exaggerate Poems
I
"Gotta job as a nanny!"
"Maybe they'll hire me as a butler"
"Butler and nanny always live
in close quarters"
She winks
He raises and eyebrow suggestively
II
"I love flirting with poets
so...
palpable"
"Indeed my dear, indeed.
We are a flirtatious, passionate creature"
"But we're also dramatists
adulterers
alcoholics
and prone to murder and suicide"
"Yes, some may look down on our kind,
but goddamn, we ain't boring"
III
"The first time I read Bukowski,
it was like I rediscovered
some part of myself
that was missing
or that I'd hidden away
either consciously or subconsciously
years ago.
I might have to write that down.
New freeverse."
"Love when that happens"
"Me too.
That's one thing i love about talking to poets.
Conversations often turn into writing"
"Simple Ideas morph into insolent dreams.
There's my freeverse snippet of the day"
IV
"A good poet may exaggerate,
but is no liar"
"True;
and exaggeration is like getting high,
makes everything better.
Possible Haiku?"
V
"Love is our strongest muse"
"Absolutely.
It's the most vital element to human life;
brings our greatest highs and deepest lows"
VI
"The cool thing about dating poets
is that they don't give a care
if you get
caught up with someone else
and by caught up
I mean
hopelessly
carelessly
seeexually
entangled."
VII
"The white gown
drapes over your succulent frame
like a dress of beauty.
Your hair, rusty orchid
in the shade of the picture,
cascades down smooth cheeks
the hand can die happy
having once caressed."
"That was my mom's wedding dress.
I like rusty orchids,
and the Shakespearian ending
was a harpsichord
resonant
a saunter around my affection for the dead
living
doll
I once was
came again to the meter of memory
an escapist serenade"
VIII
"Where does time go
when poets commerce?"
"Onto the paper"
Categories:
exaggerate, people, love, may, time,
Form:
Free verse
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:
exaggerate, emotions, feelings, i love
Form:
Romanticism
Grab a blank sketch book and call it your own
Create your personal memory album
It’s fun, creative, therapeutic, and shareable
Your eyes will light up each time you share memories
Your heart will tingle as you turn the pages
You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll travel back in time
‘Cause memories are meant to be remembered
Take your book and sketch your favourite memories
The object is not to produce works of art but
To evoke the feelings related to each moment in time
Draw stickmen and cartoons but mostly
Exaggerate details to get each feeling across
Even with unpleasant memories
The ones that haunt you because
You still see them through a child’s eye
I found the adult in me wanting to step in
And protect my inner child
There was a soothing healing happening
And I felt much lighter about it all
Better than a camera, you hold the pencil
Drop irrelevant details, expand on the relevant ones
Tweak the images in your mind and put them on paper
Feel free to add key words of course
Re-spin the storyline and rewrite your history
Create your own precious memory album
Start now, pick up a pencil
Draw the memories you hope to never forget
Sketch the elements of your magical moments…
Published in my mini book of sketches ~FLASH MEMORY THERAPY~ 2019
AP: 2nd place 2020
Categories:
exaggerate, appreciation, creation, inspiration, introspection,
Form:
Free verse
Fingers tantalize like whispers
Heated breaths upon supple skin
Dancing in softness parallel to feathers
Aimlessly tossed by the wind
Enticing me with lips as they play
Like strings drawn with rosined bow
A skillful loving melodic sway
Sung quietly in a lovers moan
Emotion piques with subtle kiss
Consumed like brazen embers
In the rush of a restless wish
Desire settles as sunken treasure
When sleepy eyed I reach for you
Your pillow untouched and cold
Leaving me with only your alluring scent
As if fragrance without touch could console
Return me now to dreams allure
Where your touch has not departed
In your manly frame I rest secure
Your whispers of love never falter
Your present warmth I miss tonight
Though I know you'll return tomorrow
Still the hours from now till then
Exaggerate with lonesome sorrow
Sleepless now my heart proposed
I rise to pass old father time
To feel you nearer I wear your clothes
Intoxicated in the knowing that your mine
As longing lingers in passions extreme
Our duo of comfort reduced to one
Where shirt prodigious and slight convene
Willing emptiness inside to be shunned
Back between our sheets I lay
And pray for sleep to come
In dreams your instrument each touch replayed
Exciting awe in my heart as you strum
Categories:
exaggerate, absence, boyfriend, dream, missing,
Form:
Rhyme
Pretty soon, night will fall upon the city,
And lives of crime animate spasmodically
As Gene Pitney croons “A Town Without Pity”
And the clubs and the gin joints open methodically.
Hepcat jazzmen smoke reefers, shoot junk,
The pimps clean their nails with switchblades laconically,
Fedoras pulled low as they mind-jive to funk,
And the neon lights crackle and buzz electronically,
Breast enhanced blondes catch the eyes of their johns,
Pouting and winking, the sale of depravity,
For a price any vice can be practiced upon
The surface of flesh, any crevice or cavity.
Cops pound the beat twirling nightsticks around,
Turning blind eyes for a bribe taken willingly,
Failure to pay brings the world crashing down,
“It just ain’t your day,” the cops whisper chillingly.
Wiseguys hold court in an old pizzeria,
Smoking and drinking and eating the scenery
Their empire of family governed through fear,
The rule of the gun and Sicilian ancestry.
Corporate needles pierce veins of the damned,
Chalk drawings map lines around death’s ideology
Cigarettes sparked and the siren howls slammed
Through the meanest of streets of pulp fiction mythology.
In the world of the scribe, this pulp writer hack
May exaggerate slightly for sake of the narrative,
Yet film noir seems grey when reality’s black,
At the end of the day everything is comparative.
Categories:
exaggerate, allegory, death, history, life,
Form:
Rhyme
The family sat (mum, dad, child and the cat)
as they did every Friday for lunch
no-one uttered a word, and all that one heard
was a fork or occasional crunch.
The lad stopped eating chips
wiped brown sauce off his lips
and said “mum, do you know that last night,
I opened my window to let in some air
and then had a terrible fright.
A beetle the size of an ironing board
dropped onto the foot of my bed
and above round the light, the size of a kite
a moth circled over my head!
I pulled up my blanket to under my eyes
then felt something was touching my hair
and saw, it was scary, a spider, all hairy
with legs the size of a deckchair's! “
“Now that's enough son”,
said his impatient mum,
“ Be quiet and empty your plate,
If I've told you once
I've told you a million times
never to exaggerate”.
Categories:
exaggerate, childhood, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
'Believe me'
It's the disbelief that I most hate
Being told that I exaggerate
When life's already so unfair
I know most people hardly care
Whether it's pain I share or my lack of sleep
Most my woes; don't share I keep
Finally I think you understand
Till you dismiss me once more with a flick of your hand
Won't you try, just pretend to believe
When I share with you my heart on sleeve
Not many I love know real me
Yet to 'strangers' online I at last feel free
It's true no one will share my blues
Unless they walk a mile in my shoes
'Believe me' ~ by Victoria Payne
Categories:
exaggerate, body, conflict, feelings, health,
Form:
Rhyme
I want to drop off the end of the world
You have tied your puppet strings around me
You act as my master and I am...nothing
Do you even love me anymore?
You lie about me, and to me,
Am I not perfect enough?
My Paint chipped away.
I give up everything for you,
you want me to give up even this too,
and you give nothing in return,
nothing.
I hate you for that,
for tearing me apart,
I am chunky,
and plain,
I cant sing,
and I'm ugly,
I am useless,
and my drawing sucks,
I shouldn't write because you don't like it,
my hair is thin, my eyes are empty,
I'm crying and you don't give a damn.
You tell me these things and yet you say you love me,
Tell me, How, how is THAT love?
I'm tired, and I don't feel well,
You make up things and exaggerate,
And secretly I'm psychoanalyzing you.
So tell me love,
Why are you so insecure,
Why shouldn't I trust you -- Because your mistrust of me,
Is really what that says,
What are you doing wrong?
What are you waiting for?
To make me nothing before you leave me for one of those prettier girls?
But I say f*ck you,
I'm tired of these games,
I AM beautiful, and the world knows it.
and everything you say about me, is wrong.
Ps. Don't believe me, but the truth is,
I truly, really do love you...
Categories:
exaggerate, me, love, me,
Form:
Free verse
Snowcapped mountain
in subtle melt
the slow beginning drips
which trickle forms
into the downward flow
of twisted turning bends
from a whisper to a roar
minor drips exaggerate
waterfalls cutting might
where large rivers swiftly
push ahead new life
continuous journey onward
a neverending cycle
for as it returns to the ocean
taken back thru evaporation
only for the snow...and the rain
gracefully returns earths pleasure.....
Categories:
exaggerate, life, nature,
Form:
Free verse
Worry often goes in hand with love.
When all the dark clouds accumulate above.
When all your fears form a throng.
And you have that feeling something is wrong.
It seems natural to think that way.
When your imagination goes astray.
If they are ill or just late home.
Your worst thoughts start to roam.
Its time to step back and remember what’s real.
Don’t exaggerate what you feel.
If something manifests and really is wrong.
You will be needed to be very strong.
Worry and panic can undermine sense.
And work the wrong way, at your expense.
Feeling you’re buried? No you’ve just been planted,
Don’t let your thoughts get too slanted.
Remember what I read, just the other day.
Who wrote it I regret, it did not say.
Worry doesn’t remove tomorrow’s trouble.
It takes away today’s peace, on the double.
So if you wear the cap of a worry wart,
Its high time, a new hat you bought.
Answer each call, with hope you had a windfall.
Don’t listen if they say the sky will fall.
The good things outweigh the bad.
No time to be sad, there’s good times to be had.
If things go wrong and you get a bad news letter.
Your choice, you get bitter, or you get better.
Its all entirely up to you.
But worrying will never do.
Categories:
exaggerate, love,
Form:
Rhyme
Cherish her land, lovely boy!
Never let them come destroy!
Show the Welsh pride, lovely boy!
Sing aloud your heart and joy!
I met a Bard of ancient time
who sang to me in mystic rhyme
as we climbed the mountain road.
He told me tales from long ago
of hidden dragons far below
he bestowed in soulful ode.
Now I had heard the dragon tale
and said to him, let truth prevail
without ale tell me the lore.
With no drink to exaggerate
I want the legends of our fate
tell it straight I did implore.
Cherish her land, lovely boy!
Never let them come destroy!
Show the Welsh pride, lovely boy!
Sing aloud your heart and joy!
He sang of the hidden secret
Three mysteries that have been kept
ne'er forget this land is blessed.
While Bran remains in the White Hill
of London, foes or evil will
their blood spilled, shall not progress.
The bones that lie beside the sea,
Blessed Gwerthefyr, shall keep us free
liberty, for all of time.
And the dragons one red, one white,
buried in Eryri one night
by Ludd's might and magic rhyme.
Cherish her land, lovely boy!
Never let them come destroy!
Show the Welsh pride, lovely boy!
Sing aloud your heart and joy!
The dragons' war raged underground
Red against white, without a sound
'til unbound, from Earth they flew.
White against red, their battle fought,
supreme power, the prize they sought
as death brought red's triumph through.
The Welsh Dragon, so wise and red,
fair means and true your blessings said
fortune spread though all of Wales.
For those of foul heart and intent
a dragon's curse of detriment
that shall vent their lands with gales.
Cherish her land, lovely boy!
Never let them come destroy!
Show the Welsh pride, lovely boy!
Sing aloud your heart and joy!
Categories:
exaggerate, fantasy, history, me, heart,
Form:
Englyn
'If chronic pain were Olympic sport'
Morning shocks me with a jolt
Night time flies like Usain Bolt
If dream of sleep were 'lympic pride
My pain within I'd win not hide
If feeling tired, was winning gold
My chronic illness medal hold
We would be there chasing Mo
If energy won at being low
If 'pushing through' meant top of game
And trembling hands meant pride and fame
If migraine vice meant all things nice
And neck strain drain meant King of pain
If winning crunch was base of spine
Or BP drop that renders blind
We would excel Olympic pride
Where no one you love would dream you 'lied'
They'd even know it's genes so fate
They'd say 'I believe' not 'you exaggerate'
If feeling drained was strong like Phelps
Where tiredness reigns and brain fog helps
POTS fatigue, compression nylons
Clunky shoulders easy bronze
If Olympian meant broken bowel
We'd feel their pain, lay on beach towel
For every day we feel that burn
From joints all round and stomach churn
If chronic pain were Olympic pride
We'd win hands down, in bed would hide
Categories:
exaggerate, how i feel, inspiration,
Form:
Rhyme
It need not rhyme, it need not flow
It need no essence of truth
Just proliferate, exaggerate
And be sure to convolute
With flexous and circuitous jargon, fruiton soon to find
Scholars will praise your erudition,and vilipend the simple of mind
It need not passion, it need not soul
It need not emotion convey
For imperious wordsmiths write verse to cajole
With nothing of substance to say
Just aberrate,divigate, affirm you wish not to profess
Just cloak, conceal, as you disseminate your page's emptiness
It need not sorrow, it need not elation
It not your mind reveal
Words are just wasted with no explanations
Nihility holds no appeal
Exacerbate, exasperate, as fading tales of yore
Leave you unremembered for your words are too obscure
Categories:
exaggerate, on writing and words,
Form:
Rhyme
Stymied synergistic stoolcumers synchronized
of gifted glib galb garbage run of mouth
nicotine rings of one night
no promise quickly spilled
ever taxed gestured pocket
pool. tandem coulpling random
access eye spew askances for a
tainted night glow. Weak whitewine
whispers office yupslugs curtaling on a
Friday nnite feeding rampage
cock'll doodle do ya, hopefully, fixed
******l trans plant stilted blue
libidious carneverous ego ectascies
exaggerate trip the gonad fantasy fantastic
click, click, click, scrape,
click females ina crowd leave ina crowd
***** puffers everywhere cancer
croonies suck lips with sunken jaw
jumping jill frenzy paste posted tooth
smiles--only gum grin where prohibited
white collar/blue collar share a
once beer of sorts, while linley smoke
figures haunt backwards in a sitdown dismal
denial comedy for the no show waitresses
geese gatheing empty of poignant personality
through bar riers of in-finite age range ripe
rituals for meta phor women to the restroom!
The plot hair thickens. my lungs hurt from watchexisting
Blue suit sancturary slugs offer office onslaughts through
oppulent openings via perservance in a temperate tampon
express meal head long into a pubic partisian oblivion?
True bar tintilation touting tempting tidbits of tumultious
temptations tilting time, tantilizing tremors, tracking
tricks of professional preference and sexosocial sinny
secular satisfaction. Gomer Pyle just pissed by.
Judy, Judy, Judy. Poor Judy.
occular preferences occlude
Categories:
exaggerate, change, character, culture, emotions,
Form:
Free verse
This house of hyperbole,
Does defy credulity,
Let's all exaggerate,
Aim to manipulate,
"I shall love you infinitely!"
Sounds a normal hyperbole,
"I never got over you!"
Am I a drama mama too?
You want me and need me,
But you don't love me,
Is that called two out of three?
Or more hyperbole?
Why answer such questions?
I'm always open to your suggestions,
As usual for you and me,
In this house of hyperbole............
Categories:
exaggerate, funny love, giggle, how
Form:
Free verse