Best Invented Poems
April graces us with showers,
As cold snows melt, their wintry scene
Is changed to many shades of green.
From tender shoots, soon, Spring flowers,
Apollo's face is golden fair...
The scent of spring is in the air.
As blossoms float down from bowers
When gusts of April breezes blow,
They spread below like golden snow.
Then in delight I watch for hours,
For truly at this time of year
I feel God's presence dwelling here.
Blessed and touched by divine powers.
The joy of springtime here on Earth
Is felt with every flower's birth.
April graces us with showers,
From tender shoots, soon, Spring flowers,
As blossoms float down from bowers
Then in delight I watch for hours,
Blessed and touched by divine powers.
THE IRISH INVENTED EVERYTHING
Ireland invented everything; I think it’s fair to say
From the automatic office door, to the LED display
We put the first man on the moon, conceived the mobile phone
Discovered Mars and Pluto, and of course, the twilight zone
Planes and trains and trucks and cars, were all invented here
We even had the concept, of putting twelve months in the year
We invented ships and submarines, and the humble coffee cup
Sure we even made Viagra, just to keep our peckers up
We invented drums and violins, then trumpets and guitars
But playing makes you thirsty, so we invented Irish bars
We developed all the medicine, on which the world depends
Then we gave you love and hatred, and the means to make amends
We discovered beer and cider, we discovered whiskey too
And we started brewing Guinness, which is very good for you
We gave you sweets and chocolate, and all that tasty stuff
And we invented soft pyjamas, plus that bellybutton fluff
We invented roads and pavements, and we introduced the bridge
The cooker and the washing machine, we even claim the fridge
We invented mirth and humour, and we taught the world to sing
Sure you gotta love the Irish ………….. We invented everything……….
Someone else wouldn't have waited
this long and be told an untruth...
another guy wouldn't have been patient,
but be swayed from the deception of heart;
it's another promise invented
for a belief that has no worth!
Why hold on something which is not real?
Why give useless love to someone not to make
that sacrifice when happiness is at stake?
Can one conquer the heart, but not the will?
It's another promise invented for a belief
to gain more time and not let the secret out;
being honest is not as hard as admitting the guilt:
speak up and let your answer cause no grief!
Flowers can't grow without rain,
and the soil is dry, won't they die eventually?
If eyes have no smile to charm and win
over the one who falls in love tenderly:
would that heart not promise to be
true and keep love from ending suddenly?
It's another promise invented for a belief
to deceive with words that are brief;
let honesty be as clear as your meaning:
spare me the agony and the suffering!
A shout out to the guy who made up language,
Inventing diction, style, speech and sound,
Especially the creation of the little prefix pro,
Making words potent, deep and profound.
Some add-ons he added were genius,
Joining para with dox, to puzzle what we use,
And then, adding an “a” onto our thoughts
To make a word, for fun, out of muse.
But then he thought to add extra on,
Making ordinary far more than routine,
And added dom to star, king, and free, for show,
Providing linguistic cuisine.
This guy, who invented the words that we use,
He gave us so many words with which to write,
With the –dom, extra-, in-, para- and more,
Enhancing reads on this Poetry Soup site.
According to pompous Al Gore, he claimed to have invented the internet!
Well, I'm certainly delighted to hear that - we are forever in his debt!
I have rather serious doubts about that dubious claim, however.
My understanding (tho' not all that well understood) is that it was a group endeavor!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
tick tock tick tock tick beep beep beep
blerrggghh snooze tock tick tock
knock knock knock hurrghhh
ding dong ding dong beep beep beep beep beep
then silence except for the tweet tweet tweet of a bird on the windowsill.
why can't dreams last forever?
it's not too much to ask that i be left alone is it?
i just want to be alone nowadays
but then again why do i set the alarm?
Before time was written and God made man,
I held a deep love for you, so divine-
Sometimes confusing, hard to understand,
but after many years I called you mine.
Before the constellations took their shine,
I knew you were the only one for me-
One night of fine dining and Merlot wine,
captured your essence and set my heart free.
Before hands could touch and eyes made to see,
You were the gentleman of my sweet dreams-
I know we're destined and you’d marry me,
life is surreal and not as it seems.
There are no words saying the life we’ve led-
I’ve loved you before time was invented.
October 4, 2016
Stark contrast
Of degrees and shades.
The invented man
Confused for days.
Reveal to me your world,
One of contrast and without words.
A reflection of flowers
Swim through the coffee table,
And a lonely chair of fables,
With colors lost in shades.
True revelation swims in the drapes,
To know and take,
A blank face
Dazed by the day.
Invented expressions,
But no words to say.
Form:
The man who invented pockets,
Never owned a bag.
The man who invented pockets,
Had really tiny hands.
The man who invented pockets,
Bought the patent in a flash,
so The man who invented pockets,
Was never short of cash.
The man who invented pockets,
Was a kleptomaniac,
The man who invented pockets,
Couldn’t carry everything back.
The man who invented pockets,
Had more things than a couple,.
and The man who invented pockets,
Had never learnt to juggle.
And so he invented pockets,
To remedy his cares,
And when he invented pockets,
He put them everywhere:
He wove them into carpets;
He built them into walls;
He put them onto kangaroos;
He lost some in the air;
He placed them into tables;
He slid them under doors;
He put them into houses;
And when he’d fitted them all,
He left some in his trousers
To keep his hands quite warm.
I
retired from education, sharing with (not scaring)
OUR YOUTH
oblivious of persistent prejudice, labor migrant past piercing
the present
until i left America for South Africa, returning to Natal nativity,
COMPLEX TRUTH
missionary in Eastern Cape province, an elder of Newtown blurted:
"coolie man"
Yes, siblings, labels like "Hotnot, Coolie, kaffir" are rife, despite
LEGISLATION
II
A missionary, absent from South Africa for 15 years straight, no
VISITS
My life, wife, and children lived on America's East Coast then:
PROVIDENTIAL
Now, with a new family in my native land, I am stunned I'm The
"COOLIE"
Yes, it hurts. My ancestors came as virtual slaves on British ships:
LABOR MIGRATION
They may have worked as porters, "coolies" in India and China then:
PAST SINS
Continue in Nelson Mandela's South Africa, against "Hotnot and Coolie,"
STILL
Who made these words commonplace in so many places:
TRINIDAD, Jamaica, Guyana, Africa?
RISKING REPUTATIONS (written in Samantha's invented form, a poetic trinitas)
Lipstick smears,
Pillows stain.
Lack of forethought?
Surprising tears –
A cleansing rain.
Noah knew
What was coming –
A boat
Comes in handy in storms,
but
A captain,
Wishing to avoid an iceberg
Must think ahead.
Still, it can’t always save
A reputation from its fate.
---
Samantha Terrell is an internationally published American poet whose work has received five-star reviews. In 2021, she earned First Honorable Mention in the "Anita McAndrews Poets for Human Rights Awards" organized by Poets Without Borders. Her book, Things Worth Repeating?, features her invented form - the poetic trinitas. Terrell and her family reside in upstate New York.
Know why I think this way?
Go watch the tall grass sway
and the faint flutter of leaves
responding to summer breeze.
Catch robin's "bob and run,"
searching for wiggle worm,
or dolphins' graceful glide,
with his companion beside.
Trace a monarch's pirouette,
before it comes to rest
on a dandelion's fluff,
still clinging to its ruff.
Even stars of the night
shimmy and bounce in my sight.
There's no earthly reason why,
in abandon, should not I
throw caution to the wind,
cut myself loose, twirl and spin,
raise my arms in ardent praise,
for glorious dance-filled days!
My cat sits on the window sill
My cat sits on the window sill
Watching the birds and bees fly by
They flit and flutter in the sky
Her antics more than meet the eye
Watching the birds and bees fly by
My cat she lets out such a sigh
My cat she lets out such a sigh
Watching twinkling stars as they dance
Her wide golden eyes in a trance
Hoping to see a ghost perchance
Watching twinkling stars as they dance
My cat naps on warm summer days
My cat naps on warm summer days
Sun puddles sing their lullabies
She dreams of birds and bees that fly
Sun puddles sing their lullabies
Sun puddles sing their lullabies
curse be the day that gun was invented
the creation of gun
is like the born date
of the devil
this evil invention
is killing us in a hurry
so sad so many human
are even it best friend
like the gunman
with just a click
a soul is gone
so brief and in
a hurry
what a killer
curse be the day that gone was invented
is obvious we are dieing
in the hands of gunmen
everyday their is a report
of a gunshot
in the cities in the media
we can't escape the
nemesis of this invention
any longer
it lives among us
it is a part of the family
in too many homes
were hatred and ignorance
is never a stranger
it is killing a lot innocent
souls
what an invention of
devaluation
curse be the day that gun was invented
an invention gone too viral
a killer invention gone too deep
in the souls of the devourer
an evil invention in the hands
of criminal is equal to
a genocide of the innocent
victims of peace
I know that day it was invented
was Satan birth day
I realise is was his gift
to humanity
and now it is killing
the souls of mankind
curse be the day that gun was invented
my ancestors was intimidated
by gunmen
my forefather's was force to
slavery by gunmen
my people has lost a lot by
the fear of the hands
of the gunmen
it still never change
the world still got a lot
gunmen ready to devour
another innocent soul
so in my quest for
humanity I realise that
curse was the day that gun was invented
She likes her feline side; it cozies up to warm books.
But pirate woman is not far behind, slashing and swashbuckling.
Her mood does not last a week, a day, or an hour.
She is mercurial, flexible, a chameleon.
Living striped, polka dotted and in paisley.
Reveling in silk, linen, and persnickety idealism.
Her yin and yang complement each other
Appearing with their own whims and whistles.
She is woman, she is girl, she is crone, she is empathy, she is hope.
She is a nurturer and a killer. She can destroy and rebuild.
Books cannot capture her emotional power, for the words are not invented yet.
For each she is extraordinarily herself, living as a bear, a bird or a bug.