Best Genies Poems


Genies Lamp

Genie’s Lamp


	I’ve discovered a genie’s lamp,
Probably at least a hundred years dormant,
	Wondering what’s inside,
Who knows what treasures are to hide,
	Beholder should beware,
For no one will know what’ll appear,
	What may be to reveal,
Could be mystic, forbidden, or surreal,
	Just rub the lamp’s surface,
Explain your divine premeditated purpose,
	Opening the lamp in surprise,
One, two, three wishes for you demise,
	With magnificent force,
Every harbored emotions spouts out, even the worst,
	This energy spreads by the genie’s hand,
Dispersing colossally around the immediate land.

Travis “Ceijaeh” Klein

Premium Member God and Genies

Genies answer wishes, GOD answers prayers.
So I've been told.
The hairs on my head are countless 
Therefore like the stars they are.
But as I grow old I will ceaselessly count the 
Amount of gray hairs lost to this life, regardless.
For when every gray has fallen, I think 
I might earn my WHITE.
I wonder if GOD will answer this sole PRAYER.
And bless me with white hair.
I'll never wish to a Genie.

Premium Member Electric Genies

Spring poems are always blooming with hope.
Daisy-splashed fields, bluebird songs are afloat.

Lovers sprawled atop blankets in plaided dreams.
Ms. Lily awakens in the silver foyer of her stream.

Powdered bumble bees, flashing bits of black-n- gold.
Mr. Winter sheds the blushing and his white satin robe.

The humble arise with earthy smiles from their hovels.
Into the shadows go the mittens, rock salt and shovels.

Empty playground swings, mimicking the violins of spring.
Children rubbing phone genies, granting them most everything.


Premium Member The Wish

“You can have any wish,” the genie said.
“Any ONE wish?” the girl asked, a little disappointedly.
“One wish,” the genie answered, shrugging.

“Oh.. then” she said, thinking it over. “I wish for.. a banana,” she said whimsically.
“A banana?” The genie asked, hesitantly.
“Yes, the girl said, nodding her head.

A banana appeared on the table.

“As a banana pudding, please - in a bowl,” she amended.
The genie nodded, and a large bowl of delicious looking pudding took the place of the banana.

“With a spoon?” she asked sweetly, and a spoon appeared by the bowl.
She tasted the pudding and it was, indeed, magically delicious.

“A jewel encrusted spoon.” she corrected, and again it was so.

Then she blurted, all at once:
“The Spoon is In the hand of a handsome prince, who’s genetically identical to Timothée Chalamet and is so in love with me that he proposed a moment ago - to the delight of his father, the king, who knows we will both live long and happy lives, having several delightful children - that will rule long after us - but who, unbeknownst to anyone, has an immensely serious heart condition that, sadly, will claim him roughly fifteen minutes after he pronounces the prince and I husband and princess!”

The prince appeared, and the happy king.. It all happened. 

As the ensuing dramas unfolded, the genie took his leave. 

“It’s *never* just a banana,” he said to no one, snapping his finger and vanishing in a puff of wispy white smoke.

My Genies Only Wish

The sun, has begun to rise, lifting up, to the sky, from the oceans horizon, on a beautiful morning, as I take, my daily run, along the smooth, warming, yet wet sand, now putting my footprints, in first, before the thousands, of others, have erased my trace, forever, along with, the washing, of the tides, that rolls in and out, as I notice, far off, something shiny, like a mirrored reflection, sticking out, in my path and so when, I stopped, to rest, I then bend over, to found it, to be, an old, lavishly ornate, delicately designed bottle and with, dusting it off, I turned it over, to then hesitantly, remove the stopper, when there was, a vibration, to it, as it suddenly came, to life, while a light mist, then pours, from the spout, followed by, a thick cloud, of bellowing smoke, began to gather and in shock, I took, a step back, tripping, over myself, as I watched, in slow motion, it fall, from my hand, in a race, with me, of who lands first, on the sandy earth, from in the air, as I, then soon, could make out, the hourglass figure, which emerged, of a young, blonde woman, a goddess, of the olympians, a vision to behold, which is dressed, in silky white, harem style attire, with veils and with her long blond hair, braided in a single rope, down her back, as she sinks, to her kneels and with eyes lowered and her hands, clasped together, in a sign, of abandoned submission.

So now, after moments, of a pause, I heard, the voice, of an angel, the sounds of, a hypnotic trance, in her words, as she spoke, saying that she, was a genie and that, since I, had released her, from her solitary prison, that I, am hers, to now command, as her eyes, then raised, to gaze up, at me, seeing the tears, course down, her cheek, making puddles, as I, could feel her pain and the lifetimes, she lead, for others, taking nothing, for herself, I then, had only one thought, that came to mind, as I, did not wish, anything, for myself, but with one wish, I granted to her, was her freedom and as, she stared deeper, into my eyes, looking in, my heart and soul and reading my mind, I could feel, her there, as she smiled, then placed, her slender arms, around my neck and softly pressed, her lips, to mine, as she then said, your wish, is my command, in breathless delight.

Premium Member Two Genies With Wishes

Magic happened on the shore of the Montezuma horizon
Two genies appeared, Mondomay and Mighizeb
Dressed in gauzy dainty chiffon, carrying two cats and a swan
They were a corpulent two, one with brown eyes, the other blue.

What wishes did you have? A new goat, sheep, donkey or calf?
People pleasers all the way, their attention made my day.
Illustrious and lovely, they had suggestions, but kept them hidden.
We are not allowed to share our ideas, even if prompted and bidden.

I told them I would have to think and Mighizeb’s face turned pink.
We might run out of wishes, said Mondomay, as he washed my dishes.
For this had been my first wish, as I despise redundant dishrag swishes.
You wasted a wish! Said my husband Mouse who now lives in his mama’s


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