Best Homeliness Poems
The world use to taste like oyster's, and my hunger reflect the possible.
"Why I cann't see my shadow, cause my destiny goes forward, into the
Impossible".
Been out and about for too long, all within me are sad songs.
I can not see my shadow, trying not to look back leave's me
constanily along.
"Along to face the battle's, the battle's of, Why I cann't see my shadow's".
Its Been a long journey, this road that leads to homeliness and despair. A
road without future endeaver, a road I wouldn't reccomment to noone, a
road with danger, a road were noone care's.
Drug's are not for everyone, either is hardluck. I wonder if tomorrow will
there be provision for all to make a "buck". ($$)
'Yes-yess..(yess).... I been so-down lately, No my spirit is of the sanity of being poor.
"Why I cann't see my shadow, cann't explain it, even if answer's of
crying to feel the world, is in response once more. Been so-down lately, Why
want oppourtunity come knocking at my back-door.
Not the front, no dare not make others think, favors is clearily my best friend.
When I am ashame to face the world today, my shadow will not follow me,
when I am weak, and excuse's are to no end, then I do see a shadow, but
it is the shadow of someone who once was a "friend".
The world use to taste like marshmellow's, and I didn't have to beg.
The job market was plentiful and so was happiness and worshippers to no bitter
end. "Why cann't I see my shadow", there is joy at the end of the rainbow.
"Why I cann't see my shadow", are the pain in my life so severe.
One day I know I will get back up, One Day (when) it happen, maybe I will be
there to see if my shadow is able to show my tear(s)...
Categories:
homeliness, black african american, caregiving,
Form:
Light Verse
Yes,
She
Wore a
College girl's
Skirt and sweater and
A barrette in her shoulder length
Hair. She was the college girl of fifteen years ago.
She hadn't kept up with the times the way others had and she had a low-pitched, well-bred
Voice that many people said was subtly insulting.
And confidence and homeliness
Not often seen—met
Together
In one
Face-
One.
Categories:
homeliness, age, beauty, devotion, math,
Form:
Fibonacci
Two-ply in roses of yellow and pink
rolls and sings to the touch
of fingers on its faintly-scented folds,
giving miles of pleasure to soft seats
on hard covers all in the name of
modern convenience which is a change
from old catalog sheets housed in
quarter-moon outhouses
behind homesteads.
Two-ply greets us in grocery stores,
all the pretty ones sit on the front row,
purring at our squeeze test,
begging to be brought home,
heaven forbid if you buy the plain,
all-white, skinny two-ply which sits on the
bottom shelf looking forlorn because of
Its unscented homeliness.
Two-ply dies a million deaths each day,
lost in the vortex of flushed toilets,
killing its suppleness and sweet fragrance,
headed to the deep, dark sewers waiting
to be processed in the jaws of the
sewage treatment plants which do not
discriminate against the bland,
anorexic and hard-to-the-touch.
Categories:
homeliness, humor, humorous,
Form:
Prose
Thank You...
Sharon Moemise
For the sun that burns unhealthily
For the wind that blows continuously
A baby's cry that knows no end
A moment of silence that's heaven sent.
For waking up from under a newspaper
Rain pelting on a cardboard shelter
The stench of city air pollution
Music banging, chains rattling, much confusion
A drunk staggering across the street
An old man so tired, dragging his feet
For a flea infested wall of homeliness
Lives lived day to day, in darkness
Squalid water dripping from a leaky tap
A house pet under a tree for a quick nap
For all kind of pain that cut like a knife
Thank You Lord...for giving us life
Categories:
homeliness, blessing, god, how i
Form:
Free verse
OKAY? WHAT FIEND STOLE THY BODY ELECTRIC!?
thine distorted reflection rippled
within rain maker's pool upon a midnight clear
full moonlight flooded shallow abyss,
cleaved fractal structures of silence
reverberating deathly hallow from 'ere
to infinity, whence magic wand
whipped out from whereabouts unknown
wove enchanting spell atop me shades
at more'n fifty gray hair
to fore, awakened from drunken stupor,
whence sober self
saw repulsive trouper fluid dynamic image jeer
at pot bellied, dead panned,
and ad libbed the mere
ore image lam bent, mutilated spindled
various aspects of myself a paired
which, aghast at such creepy distortion i didst rear
like a bucking bronco unclear
how this horrid, jagged, limned paragon did wear
a grotesque from heart of darkness – maybe Zaire
or Zulu-land, this soaked silhouette half bare
from the waist to head showed unmanly
sagging overly engorged breasts
plus right and left elephant sized ear
egad, THAT CANNOT BE ME,
yet upon performing self exam a glare
ring outburst ensued,
cuz thy once bronzed handsome physique
grist for a Joker to jeer
and fodder made for television series created,
directed, and executed by Norman Lear
which role might be temporary for Halloween, but near
lee every SINGLE day and night,
thy aged dusk fraught hominid jerked,
leaped, pooh poohed I ham ill prepared
to accept, roistering, rollicking,
rueing this Frankenstein scarred
complex deplorable edifice able,
ready, and willing to be tarred
rather than evince flabbiness,
gruesome homeliness, instance
Page Number Two:
when no objection would arise
to live out the remaining days of this life
as the world wide web turns, spins, rattles...
and voluntarily sign myself into a stew ward
with (at minimum ), a ghoulish, gnarly,
gummy self activated door
leading to a privet hedge row trimmed
topiary resplendent yard
cuz every cotton pickin, friggin,
fingerhut lickin portal iz barred
dated Friday the thirteenth with **** face on that card!
Categories:
homeliness, allegory, bereavement, depression, evil,
Form:
Free verse
When I think of you...I
wonder how such awesome words
from one’s sincere lips, can captivate so many,
how you are able to make
each individual feel so special.
I wonder if I am in an illusion
when your explicit cheer penetrates
this old negative mind of mine,
with the power, turn one’s eve of darkness
into the dawn of enlightenment,
when your comments of positivity
come flooding into my P.C.
Some days when in a pensive mood,
I wonder if the giving of so much love, from you
has a price to pay.
‘Does one retreat into one’s own minute world,
a place where secrets are stored, emotions snared’
Or is it through your poetry, that which fulfils
my daily habit of browsing ‘Poetry Soup’
hoping like hell you are there, to relieve
the pressure of the day?
When I think of you, many scenarios rush through
my reflective mind, visions of you sat there, armed
with emphatic emotions tapped on to the keyboard
of poetry promise.
I visualize also ‘Golden Girl’ So aptly named
in a different role, that of a loving mother and wife,
one of simplicity that delves in ‘Common Sense’
a down to earth no nonsense lady,
with a sense of humour, one of homeliness
passion and intelligence.
But where ever my visions take me,
whatever illusions dance around my head,
one aspect I’m sure of:
This sweet lady ‘Mandy Tams’ Is one lady
I truly call a friend!
© Harry J Horsman 2013
Categories:
homeliness, dedication, emotions, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
Delirium delves deeply
Deeply dense
Derivatively dying
Dancing deliriously
Driving deeply densely
Happily hastily
Honeyed homeliness
Lying loneliness
Levitating loveliness
Delirium doubly
Dealing deftly deathly
Deeply delving deliriously.
Categories:
homeliness, anxiety, art, bangla, color,
Form:
Alliteration
She came upon me in a dream deep down from within my destination
Which coursed the mind and soul of years for my memories' inspiration
The path was crowded with bouncing hooves and wagons decorated
With fantasies ornaments adoration painted with merriment unabated
Echoes' subconscious sound of wild horses drawing cart wheels' canter
A symphony's reminder of nectar's flow from a coloured glass decanter
Bewildered I reminisced on sentiments nostalgia and what lies ahead
Fanfares of homeliness adventure passion to pounding of a drumhead
Heated stallions ran wild with mares and took my innate flight of fancy
Less trodden though in modern times a covert path offered me fragrant tansy
Potions of wild garlic lavender and bouquets of aromatic blue sage scent
I grabbed the message by the horns and galloped to my heart's content
One face stood out and reached my fired feelings as I took off one blinker
A nomad girl dressed in rags whistles bells whom you might call a tinker
Olive skin and amber eyes beyond all reason teasing all sensual needs
Her hair like forests full of tangles I must touch her locks lest she proceeds
Around her neck dangled an amulet crafted from ivory and ancient oak
Grant me a whiff of freedom give me one chance to embrace and stroke
The skin's wilderness and passion which may save me from my strife
A single breath or little smooch from cherry lips to give me the kiss of life
She shone as bright as ruby petals and took her path along the lane
Of elderberry flower and hawthorn hedges which made me go insane
Her chest adorned with orange curves she wore a crown of quince
She's been imprinted on my summer screen for more and ever since
And still the magic rings hooked on her ears of nectarine shaped silver
Stir the image when I hear a voice singing the praise and beauty of her
A scintillating Roma bride sculpted from nature of the purest sense
Prophesy omen oracle and metaphor in one quite magically intense
When sunshine arises red and purple with violins and tambourine
I pinch the moon in thanks for right next to me slumbers my Fairy Queen
Once upon a time I handed her a golden peach an oath and sacred bond
She calls herself a gypsy and kindly waves to me with her magic wand
11th April 2020
Categories:
homeliness, dream,
Form:
Rhyme
The Best Thing You Had...
May 27, 2013
"Frankly Speaking" I can't hide my kindness? My exterior says tough; Yet, for some reason you looked right pass that!
I did not intend to care-or to love or to march on beat- or to become unhinged.
Can I hide my eyes? Why are you not afraid- Why doesn't my indifference offend you? Before now, not even months ago, I was shrouded in beauty; Which I thought was the reason for your endearment.
This time I am now withered - No way for her to see the big deal you saw in me. Beauty nor homeliness is not allowed to not stand in the way of progress - I was your means to an end- Then after she asked after me. You spoke ill of me said, that I was "nothing to write home about “. By then I'd come to know That I was your "best kept secret ".
She has stolen me from you like a thief creeping in the shadows. As a good friend, she had to ask you to make sure that her next move would be fair' She ask after me again - As she was one of your uppity friends that coveted whatever you were doing.
You knew what it was- ' She knew there was more to me than met the eyes, and so did you. So, the day you all went sailing on your yacht is when you deceitfully gave her your presumptuous assessment of my worth.
She in turn revealed to me of your “cum si -cum saw” pretentiousness. She told me she would do better by me and how unappreciative you were. She came to rescue me. And we stole away to the Boca-Raton.
And the best thing you had was now gone.! Even though my survival instincts and my ability to turn nothing into something. Still pays off for you.
Now you had the profit all to yourself ... Although I think about it often,I bet you never had a clue.
Yet with all you knew,when she asks you about me, the backbone of your spineless spine: The truth could have been told --and we could have been fine-
We are sharing the memories of those days separately. Maybe you know now why I left you with your "mangoes ", I never told you the secrets in my sauce. As I am just "FRANKLY SPEAKING"
(tid-bits of my life)
Copyright © Vicki Acquah | Year Posted 2013
Categories:
homeliness, history, how i feel,
Form:
Blank verse
As the sweltering heat finally simmer's down to it's most modest degree. I notice some
one resting right beside me, someone who once had a home and family, now we're
both are homeless-both are distraught. Upon the rise of the sun we are off to a jour-
ney-whereas disparity is all around us and it has us caught. Caught in the Ville, other-
wise Jacksonville, and on this journey, "all of these journey's", the homeless face
that irractical fact, that there is a epidemic that is so real. Yes, real in the Ville.
Yeah! hard to realized, harder to concieve, drugs and alcohol have laid down be-
side us. Sad, this great nation has made cost to cry & fuss. Not all have made bad
choice's and many do get up. But the tear's of a lonily man-three tears that fall on the
ground. "Homeless in the Ville", asking for help no-one is around. Homeliness is every-
where, and please don't dare think you-you and whomever, may never face this mess.
"Three tear's of a lonily Man", may one day finally see success. Then if ever one get
himself back into the realignment of the grace of God as he is called. These tears,
those fears is replaced by the assurence of the groundwork of endurence!!. For yes
they feed us, give clothe's too. Believing thing's do get better, to overcome your de-
mise, those tear's of they that need no longer cry will find shelter before the darkness
kisses the rise.
Categories:
homeliness, dedicationcry, may, drug,
Form:
Quintain (English)
He was a hard-edged razor-back, but bright.
His hands were red-dog rough, but his smile was a delight.
She was a soft-hearted floret, and smart.
Her hands felt as light and plump as a neonate’s heart.
She was Rubenesque, and shy.
He was a coyote-skinny kind of guy.
She was a Demi-Tram, and the head of the voting party.
He was against voting, but was scientific and arty.
Her eyes were angelic – a gray blue smooth mix.
His eyes were buggy and could stare with a salmonid’s fix.
When they were thrown into Senator Swear’s cocktail party,
He walked up to her, to say he found her outfit quite arty.
None of the rest noticed, as the men were ignoring her due to her beauty.
The women were ignoring his homeliness, feeling it was socially their duty.
He was humble, polite, respectful, did not look down at videos, U-tube.
Best of all, he kept his eyes on her face, not her enormously prominent boobs.
She did not think this unremarkable night could be salvaged,
But when he made his approach, she was quickly re-val-vaged.
He did not tell her she was pretty, but by his attention he showed her quite dearly.
Their mutual in Schopenhauerism almost immediately drew them together and clearly.
By the end of the evening the he and she were a completely-smitten we.
They both had dogs named Varuna, so they eloped on day three.
Categories:
homeliness, fun, marriage,
Form:
Rhyme
Thine distorted reflection rippled
within rain maker's pool
upon a midnight clear
full moonlight sonata
flooded shallow abyss,
cleaved fractal structures of silence
reverberating deathly hallow from 'ere
to infinity, whence magic wand
whipped out from
whereabouts unknown
wove disenchanting spell
atop me shaded noggin more'n
fifty ruffle lake suns
Dorian Gray pictured here
to fore, awakened
from drunken stupor,
whence sober self
saw repulsive trouper
fluid dynamic image jeer
at pot bellied, dead panned,
and ad libbed the mere
ore image lam bent,
mutilated spindled
various horrid aspects of
myself nine inch
rusty nails impaired
which, aghast at such
creepy distortion i didst rear
like a bucking bronco unclear
how this horrid, jagged,
limned paragon did wear
a grotesque disfigured Joeseph Conrad
lost within heart of darkness – maybe Zaire
or Zulu-land, this
soaked silhouette half bare
from waist to head showed unmanly
sagging overly engorged breasts
plus right and left elephant sized ear
egad, THAT CANNOT BE ME,
yet upon performing
self exam a glare
ring outburst ensued,
cuz thy once
bronzed handsome physique
now grist for a Joker to jeer
and fodder made
for television series created,
directed, and executed by Norman Lear
which role might be
temporary for Halloween, but near
lee every SINGLE day and night,
thy aged dusk fraught hominid jerked,
leaped, pooh poohed I ham ill prepared
to accept, roistering, rollicking,
rueing this Frankenstein scarred
complex deplorable edifice able,
ready, and willing to be tarred
rather than evince flabbiness,
gruesome homeliness, instance
when no objection would arise
to live out the remaining days of this life
as the world wide web turns, spins, rattles...
and voluntarily sign myself into a stew ward
with (at minimum ), a ghoulish, gnarly,
gummy self activated door
leading to privet hedge row trimmed
topiary resplendent yard
cuz every cotton pickin, friggin,
fingerhut lickin portal iz barred
dated Friday the thirteenth
with **** face on that card!
Categories:
homeliness, 11th grade, 12th grade,
Form:
Free verse
Health, wealth, success, grandeur, and happiness,
Name, fame, status body-mind homeliness;
Family, friends, love, and self-fulfillment,
Thoughts, words, and actions purity movement...
Within the heart of the ninth clouds floating,
Through mysterious Milky-way boating;
I want to have in each realm my own say,
This has been my trance-mad daydreaming way...
My soul leads me through divine love and joy,
Betwixt fact and fancies I often coy;
Elegant hills, vales, and landscapes I see,
A drop of mighty seas I want to be...
Pains seep in like water into cracked walls,
The deep within depths toward fullness calls;
Self and ego like snake and mongoose clash,
Holiness, yet, like lava waves does splash...
16 December 2022
Our soul’s wish list Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker
Categories:
homeliness, heart, life,
Form:
Rhyme
When I see red,
I think of blood and the feeling of
dread.
When I see orange,
I think of fruit and the sound of a
squeaking door hinge.
When I see yellow,
I think of the man in the yellow hat.
When I see green,
I think of the smell of freshly cut
grass and the green blood that stains
socks.
When I see blue,
I feel clam and the feeling of
homeliness.
When I see purple,
I think of royals and wonder 'what is
a burble?'
Categories:
homeliness, beauty
Form:
Rhyme
Morning dews were here and there
Smiling and running down to the
Plants as insects dance to prove
Their acceptance of nature
With fowls attached to the waist of
farm plants in search of worms
The assembly of dews clothes
The farm with white garment
While the sun comes through
The south far behind the Eastern
Coast
A free will and seemingly beautiful
Bird flew into this maize farm
Gently like a Queen before her King
I stood to look yet sat back to watch
This Ogazi with beautiful attire
Her feathers with divers agreeing colours
She made me calm and watchful
Thus I wish I had a stone or that
I can throw a trap to trap her
But her impressive walk with beauty
Stood to touch my quick heart
Of thoughts
After a while a male friend
Probably her husband guided
With masculine beauty came
To her I looked still with passions
In their suitable colours of homeliness
Not until the male drew her attention
As they flew away while the sun
Smiled freshly on the Green leaves of the
Maize farm with much foliage
Leaving me behind talking to my thoughts
Categories:
homeliness, africa, age, blessing, blue,
Form:
Lyric