Best Impossible Poems
Running out of ideas?
That is impossible if you have a:
friend
acquaintance
neighbor
co-worker
boss
president
king
queen
TV set
I-pad
I-phone
I-pod
kangaroo
chicken
donkey
toilet paper
monopoly
dictionary
thesaurus
computer
outside
inside
dog
cat
dresser
drum set
sibling
diary
father
mother
siblings
dragon
butterfly
unicorn
dawn
sky
stars
cosmos
moon
nemesis
goldfish
talent
team
plate
fork
spoon
blanket
bed
sun
moon
stars
spiders web
wasp
bathroom
kitchen
holiday
cousins
grandma
grandpa
car
truck
broom
dustpan
plane
bedroom
child
grand child
brain
imagination
love
life
ufo
or
space aliens
Aunt Ethel said to Uncle Fred,
Let’s attempt the starfish in bed,
Old Ethel insisted,
Till Fred’s back got twisted,
They best stick to sleeping instead!
Original poem by Jan Allison
Fred couldn't stand and was writhing in pain
Ethel was mad and looked on with disdain
So he took a blue pill
Then went in for the kill
And now performs like a stallion again.
But the blue pills power started to wane
As Ethel begged him to do it again
But things came to a stop
Poor Fred started to flop
So they gave up and cracked open champagne...
Then Ethel got hold of a book
Fred fainted when he had a look
Twas the calmer suture
Some poses may suit her
But Fred said it made him feel crook
Aunt Ethel said Freddie my dear
You truly have nothing to fear
Cos tonight’s the night
Much to my delight
We’re swinging from the chandelier!
Old Fred said I don’t understand
Your desire’s got right out of hand
If you want so much sex
Go next door and see Rex
He’s the randiest guy in the land
Aunt Ethel said you’re being silly
At aged ninety I’m no young filly
I still want to have sex
With you and not Rex
Cos Rexie’s got a tiny Willy!
The champers made Ethel quite woozy
Fred’s shattered so he had a snoozey
They were woken at four
It was Rex from next door
No thank you said Ethel I'm no floozy.
Rex hammered again on their door
He said Ethel I've said this before
My sex life is shocking
I hear your bed rocking
These paper thin walls I abhor.
Fred woke up with the pounding on the door
His language was very blue as he swore
He said " what do you want Rex" ?
He said "geriatric sex"
Cos' with Ethel I've done it twice before...
Ethel blushed and she said sorry Fred
Just last winter Rex took me to bed
BUT you were with fat Mable
Making out on our table
So I slept with Rexie instead
Final verse by Belle Bellevue
Fred said Mable has nothing on you
But what’s a poor bloke supposed to do
I heard you and Rex
Planning to have sex
What’s good for you is good for me too.
Collaboration with Jan Allison.
Written 2nd June 2021.
Dedicated to Kyle, My Darling Son
Sometimes it’s hard to be me –
so much pain to burn,
so much to daily learn,
so much joy to discern.
Sometimes it’s hard to be me –
It’s impossible to be you -
I offer you my soft side
but cannot take your ride
or be your forever guide.
For me, it’s impossible to be you -
I want to filter the dark
to keep you in the light.
I want to protect you from wrong
by leading you towards the right.
I want to take all your wishes
and make them all come true.
I want to keep the world
from ever hurting you.
but my darling child,
these things I cannot do.
You’re the seed I did plant
to nurture and watch grow,
but you decide the direction
your branches will grow.
If you develop slowly
and timidly face the sky
or if you arch boldly
with a brazen sigh,
either way is yours to try.
YOU ARE going to sigh,
YOU ARE going to cry;
These are gifts to your growth
that even as your Mother,
I can neither defy or deny.
Sometimes it’s hard to be me –
it’s impossible to be you.
McGee was in his garden
When he saw the sky alight
It forced him to his knees
Because it shown so boldly bright
He didn't dare to look
When he heard a lofty voice
Say, "That we've been looking all around,
And now we're made our choice,
Yes McGee It's you, we've found
You've been really good this year,
So, You get to make a wish
Now, make it short and clear
"Well, my Lord I would like
A bridge built cross the sea
So I could drive and see my son
And he could visit me"
“You see McGee, that would be
A monumental task
Impossible I would say
Find something else to ask”
“Ok, My Lord, there is one thing
That’s plagued me throughout me life
The lack of understanding
Of all women, says me wife
If you could give me wisdom
So that I could truly see
Why women think and do the things
That seems to bothered me”
A great pause filled the heavens
Then a voice came from the blue
“Did you want that bridge, McGee
With one lane, or with two?”
What if the moon disappeared when no one was looking at it?
What if time worked differently for each of us?
What if things you could touch were made out of ideas?
What if a decision you made now changed history 10 billion years ago?
What if experiments showed that another dimension exists?
What if a Mysterious Heavy Feather fell to the ground ?
What if invisible hands came to heal the world of all disease?
What is time travelling was as common as catching a bus?
What if it rained pies in the sky, would we solve world hunger ?
What if Harry Potter lived in our world and we lived in his ?
What if we could capture a real Unicorn and paint it blue ?
What if we could squeeze water from a stone and turn it to syrup ?
What if we could catch a fish in the dessert ?
What if we found camels in Antartica once again ?
What if we stepped in a world made of nothing, what would we be ?
What if reality disappeared forever, would fantasy reign?
What if twins were born in two Universes apart, would they still be twins?
What if you could turn yourself into an eagle ?
What if you could carry water up a mountain using a sieve ?
What if you could count every grain of sand in the beach?
Love surfaces, carried by an emotional tide
that washes over us—
refreshing as a Spring rain,
with its promise of renewal.
Trust reveals the scars of yesterday,
allowing time to heal our pain
and dissolve our inhibitions.
A bonding of heart and soul
breathes life into fantasy dreams,
as we whimsically chase rainbows
into the realm of imagination.
With the allure of feeling adored,
love attaches itself to our reality.
And as sensuous feelings awaken,
love's taste lingers upon our lips.
And passion's flame ignites,
hot enough to fuse two hearts into one.
For tethered to feelings of forever,
the bonds of love are eternal,
and impossible— to sever.
The beautiful impossible motion,
can we see, feel, touch motion?
No,
we see, feel, touch the results of motion.
Motion stands still,
until we use it.
We humans have no motion until we move,
walking, running, or maybe dancing.
Even weather has no motion,
until it speaks.
The winds blow with motion,
we then see the leaves move.
Everything starts out with no motion,
moving gives motion to the movement.
We can not see, feel or touch motion,
yet we can see, feel, touch motion in action.
What a wonderful impossible thing motion has been.
I try so hard to understand
The man inside, apart from the band
You make me wait, testing my patience
Then all I get is one crude sentence
I can see that you aren’t so busy
I ask, but then you call me silly
No time or words for me today
I guess I should be on my way
I struggle to act like I don’t care
Staying silent is such a lonely affair
I feel so deeply but mustn’t show
It’s nothing you are eager to know
The eggshells I walk on are fragile
I tiptoe so you won’t unravel
But it makes my heart so heavy
Wondering if you’ll ever be ready
For now I must mute my affection
Triggers are thrown in every direction
Do nothing, say nothing, as soon as possible
And yet my soul aches for the impossible...
Can't write about Christmas or New Years Day, Written just for Paula's
Or Easter or Kwanzaa or any other Holiday. Contest :)
I've written too much about war, about love,
and depression and sex both deserve a shove.
I guess that I could just swallow my pride,
And sneak in a write about suicide'
But Paula don't want these kinds of idolitry,
She wants us to write a poem about poetry.
How do you write about what you never said,
Or the way that words rattle around in your head?
Or how hard those words are to make a pen fashion,
Or how when they're written they seem to lose passion?
O Poem, what can I write about you?
I think until my thinker turns blue,
I come to the end of a poem about poetry,
But it won't rhyme.
Lap of fancy fills with flowers,
Just to think of her tonight,
This is not an idle talk,
I'm in good humor tonight.
I would not reveal my secrets,
To enchanting eyes of hers,
But she took away my power,
I could not resist tonight.
Beauty's garden I'm traversing,
Half-inclined to soar up high,
Heaven don't throw at the wings
Of my joy your rocks tonight.
I have no pre-occupation
But her deep mysterious eyes,
I am stealing black collyrium
From the eyes of deer tonight.
The heart's mirror takes its luster
From her splendor, may be somehow
Supplicant, it rubbed its face
On the feet of Love tonight.
My good thoughts are a reflection
From the scripture of her face,
In the vault of chance and fate,
I see evil shunned tonight.
Keeping far from grape's daughter,
And with good luck being in bed,
The first option I forbid me,
Second one my right tonight.
Reason, you think only of one thing,
The impossible, so leave me,
Don't you talk to me this once,
Of forbidden love tonight!
Qasem Ghazanfar,
Translated from the Persian by the author
Nothing impossible
For those who believe
No nothings impossible
With Jesus you see
He holds out His hand
When you're in need
No nothings impossible
When He’s guiding me
You could be sinking like Peter
Maybe shipwrecked like Paul
But Gods' full of mercy and grace
He will lift you back up if you fall
Nothing impossible
For those who believe
No nothings impossible
With Jesus you see
He holds out His hand
For you and for me
No nothings impossible
When He’s holding me
You might be a doubting Thomas
With only your eyes you’ll believe
But when Jesus walks into the room
You won’t be dreaming a dream
Nothing impossible
For those who believe
No nothings impossible
For Jesus you see
He holds out His hand
For you and for me
No nothings impossible
When He’s guiding me
You might be a tax collector
Collecting money all day long
Maybe a managing director
God still wants to save your soul
Nothing impossible
For those who believe
No nothings impossible
With Jesus you see
He holds out His hand
When you're in need
No nothings impossible
When He’s guiding me
© Copyright K.C.Leake
24th November 2015
All Rights Reserve3d
Impossible is Nothing
Impossible is something that can’t be done
Like when Ali knocked out Liston
In the 1st round and won
Or when Kevin Garnett led the wolves to the playoffs
Like when OJ got off
Or, how much money Bill Gates makes from Microsoft
Impossible is Nothing
Of course
Like when the Williams sisters 1st stepped on a tennis court
Impossible doesn’t mean a thing
Like when Tiger Woods took his 1st swing
When Patty Labelle started to sing
When James Brown learned how to dance
This just isn’t by circumstance
Impossible is Nothing by far
Like when Jimmy Hendrix learned to play the guitar
Or the day I looked up to the stars
Impossible is Nothing to me
Because I’m still able to breathe
Still able to see
Still free, and still me
So, Impossible is Nothing for someone of my capabilities
And mental stabilities
That’s easy, so
Impossible is Nothing
Maybe to you Impossible is something
Of which you can’t imagine
Or fathom, or comprehend at all
You need to take the 1st step before you fall
And stand tall at whatever you do
As long as I have this pen
Then Impossible is Nothing
I still woke up this morning
And can pay my bills because of my skill
Maybe for the weak Impossible is something they seek
And say from the tip of their tongue
But, I’ll tell you one thing, for me
Impossible is Nothing
I tried out my hand at a Limerick
The words that I chose didn't do the trick
Every phrase that I tried
Left my hand paralyzed
A tough trick when writing a Limerick
Trying another new style.
I think I’d like a crazy dream,
A crazy dream with cats,
A crazy, weird, demented dream
Where they’re all wearing hats.
Or perhaps I’d like a silly dream,
A silly dream with birds.
A silly, absurd and goofy dream
Where I can speak their words.
Or it could be I have an impossible dream,
Tonight, a dream ignoring time.
Where I can sit with The Bard himself,
And we can write a rhyme.
But no, the dream I want most of all,
I’m on a yacht under the sun.
Where my lover and I do what lovers do,
And it’s hot and naughty and fun.
When I’m known, he’ll come knocking.
Left alone to cry for our children,
I wish for them to know, the truth
not become bitter, broken, or hopeless.
The choice to conceal, be honest,
My dilemma, want better for them.
If I can get ahead despite rejection,
Social issues, challenges, being ill equip,
So could they, I want them to know this.
Determination make the impossible possible.
Even if alone and unsupported.