Best Irking Poems


School

Why does a child have to go to school?
Why do we have to spend so much time working?
This seems simply cruel.
Isn't it just irking?

Some people say school is important for learning
Couldn't a child learn on their own?
It would cause much less yearning,
After all, we can learn from our phones.

I can somewhat see a parents point in sending their child to school.
But why would you choose what we wear?
It just allows us to look like fools,
We may as well come to school bear.

As you can see school is not fair,
So please don’t force us to go if you care.

Premium Member Twerked

On the park bench in the starkness of a city facing darkness,
I was drinking, feeling tipsy, working on some poetry.
Close by me was something lurking; suddenly it started jerking,
and it seemed that it was *twerking!, How could I write poetry?
“Will you stop!” I fairly bellowed, “I am writing poetry!”
But it jerked incessantly.

I was reaching now my limit, but it acted like a dimwit,
covered up by nearby bushes. What it was I had to see!
Though the thing was well in my sight, how I wish I had a flash light,
for it had become a dark night, and this thing was close by me!
Poetry was fleeing from me. This thing was too close by me,
and it twerked incessantly.

I could see the bushes moving. It was like the thing was grooving.
But to what could it be grooving with no beat or melody?
What it heard, I was not hearing; in the shadows I sat peering
wondering if it was leering. How could I write poetry
if that thing was leering at me as I wrote my poetry?
It just jerked incessantly.

Though my heart was filled with such dread, boldly I spoke up and I said,
“You there, like some kind of pervert, just how crazy can you be?
Show yourself. Why are you irking me, like Miley Cyrus twerking
in the bushes where you’re lurking oh so close by me?
But the figure uttered nothing though it was so close by me
twerking on incessantly.

Finally I got much bolder. Getting up, I walked right over
to those bushes where the figure hid. I had to see!
What I saw in New York City in that park was not too pretty!
And for me it was a pity, it destroyed my poetry, 
For I’m finding out now when I want to write more poetry
it flows not incessantly.

In my mind it stays forever. Will it ever leave? No, never.
What I saw still haunts me when I try to write my poetry.
I just see that creature lurking in the bushes ever jerking
with its tiny butt a ‘twerking. What an ugly creepy monkey
Why the heck can’t I forget the sight of that dumb monkey
twerking there incessantly?!

*If you don't know what twerking is (one poet didn't) see About this Poem for the link!
(A parody on The Raven, trying to use the same meter and line length of Poe's poem. My apologies if I veered too far off course in how it inspired me!!)

The Fool That Is You

What knowledge do you have of my home?
Have you taken a walk through the cemetery?
Walking on my tracks, footprints of eternity.
Have you read about the deserts?
Thus roar, thus blow filth,
Have you, met the survivors?
Felt have you, their struggles?
In The dusts that destroy,
That whistled as they sizzled,
So you shouldn't be judging,
For you're senselessly irking me,
For a fool that I am not- is the fool that is you.

You believe in the reporter,
Who experienced little of a quarter,
Of the life he broadcasts,
You let the television fool you,
Have you walked the fine line?
Have you let hunger define you?
I did. Oh I did sweat in the dust,
Trekked through the cracks,
And I, stood face up with the sands,
So you shouldn't be judging,
For you're senselessly irritating me,
For a fool that I am not- is the fool that is you.

I breathed within a twister of dust,
So you wonder not of my eyes as they carry,
The memories of the old struggle,
So wonder not of my skin either, 
As it bears the manuscript of my old life,
Yes I move immaculate, but do you know of my heart?
Let you not be fooled by my slenderness,
My strength far flows beyond my weight,
So I lift a whole continent with my pride,
And if I have to, I will put my life aside,
Just to fix a smile on mama Africa's face, 
So you shouldn't be judging,
For you're senselessly irking me,
A fool that I am not- is the fool that is you,

Mama is beautiful, yet you only see,
As far as her horn, and the slums,
Where the strongest among us might've been born,
Yes mama is beautiful, yet you neglect to see her exquisiteness,
How could you go to my house,
To only document the cracks on my walls?
Couldn't you walk in to my living room'
And maybe peek in to my kitchen?
Thence you might see the beauty that is my home,
How long will you only look at, 
Just the color of this book's exterior?
When will you ever walk in it,
To see the beautiful illustrations within?
So you shouldn't be judging,
For you're unreasonably riling me,
Cause the fool that I am not- is the fool that is you.


Beautiful Woman

I am a voice,generations later
Who will shed the image sown
You will not paint my picture
I will not be taken down
I won't play your fiction stories
I am not what you percieve
Do not give the world a handbook
Do not tell them what to see

Staring me down,seeking errors 
Not your barbie,not your show
I'm woman in every sense of the word
Human being and you will know
You force our men to fear us
And leave us without love
And encourage women to hate us
Making them feel they are not enough

You tell us lies,and some believe
And so they walk in irking shame
You're insecure and childish
And so you have created a game
I'm strong and bold and fierce
I scare you,I don't fold like paper
So step aside and watch me be
Say I'm least,I'll prove I'm greater
 
Don't use a face to judge a heart
We're made the same of flesh and blood
The most obsurd of streotypes
A thing that tears this world apart
I do not wish to cause offense
This is not a war,it is a plea
I tire and sore of self defense 
I just want a shot at being me

5 April 2013
Wendia Rowe

Premium Member Prayer For Kindness To Reign

Aware of one's carnal human nature
I confess my own nastiness feature
as well as the lurking rudeness gesture
amidst obviously arrogant posture 
irking others in their wholesome venture.

Those traits likewise irritate me indeed
I admit thus with the hurts they can breed
since actual focus is selfishness-creed
in the guise of "rights' exercise I need" 
not minding well-being's call for care-heed.

For such, I apologize earnestly
The Lord’s pardon my soul begs fervently
needing His love to move me sincerely
while wishing that kindness I show truly
with faith in Christ and peace to share surely.

My heart prays for the reigning of kindness* 
against attacking grievous bitterness
brought by bullies along their haughtiness
or fellows in their miserableness ---
so that hope will shine in glowing brightness.

*Psalm 31:21 Blessed be the LORD: for he hath shewed me his marvellous kindness…

December 28, 2021
2nd place, "King-Size Bull Crap" Rhyme Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Charles Messina; judged on 1/18/2022.

Premium Member Five Funny Footles

Spice of life
Spunky
Monkey

Cultured dance
Hokey 
Pokey

Treetop climb
Showoff
Blow off

Pride precedes
Humble
Tumble

Waiting bush
Got him,
Caught him!

Watching girls
Smirking
Irking

Normal day
Madly
Badly

Monkeys see
You do
Do too

Game is born:
Spunky monkey hokey pokey showoff blow off humble tumble got him caught him bushy pushy!




{aka: Monkeying Around. Written June 6th, 2015}


Just Travel

I just wanna travel, walk my feet against the rocky gravel,
The scenery could be, leaves or cattle, club dance battles,
By bus or paddle, writing in my journal like it was scrabble, 
Living without the rules, no one to tattle, 

If you listen quietly you can hear the world breathing, 
the tide of the ocean, birds chirping but your nerves never irking, 
Every day off, the true definition of no working, this i'm deserving,
A moment of silence, and deep breath in hopes I find it,

Number one on my list, Machu Picchu, 
The picture perfect bench, the sunrise, intense, 
Next on the way,
Halong bay in Thailand, you'd forever want to stay,
Crystal blue water, there'd be no persuasion, 

Can I just travel for vacation, 
I can't remain complacent,
Iv'e now became bodacious,
To see these new faces, 

Can't forget places, 
And new fresh air, 
We're getting there,
I can almost taste it!
© Key V.  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Dreaming Beside Me

I was sleeping
You're the one dreaming
I was turning
You're squirming

I can't sleep right
You're rolling in my sight
I was groping that night
You keep on moving like a knight

You don't stop irking me
You know I can't complain
You keep on teasing me
You know I can't refrain
  bugging me and strain

When will you stop?...
Off the bed I drop
You followed me and you drop
Off the bed you flop


Eeeeeeeee...

Serious Look

S o dispassionate I have BECOME 
E ager voices of people made me NUMB
R ambling tales of them just gave BOREDOM
I  to restore my faith, still silently seek FREEDOM
O ffshore built my own little place to avoid any BOTHERSOME
U nafraid, un-argued, unasked, un-broken, ah my own solemn KINGDOM
S lowly turning in to an old soul though LONESOME

L ooking in the mirror, irking on lost SARCASM
O ver-busied, I made my mind, being DEFEATISM,
O f peace I only yearn and restore gone OPTIMISM
K nowingly of serious look wore, but still don’t know, why feelings are FEARSOME
© Hina Nasir  Create an image from this poem.

My Little Box

As time flies by
My eyes hurt from 
staring at the light.
Where can I go?
What do I do?
I can't escape,
I'm trapped in this
small little box.
No way out.
No doors, No holes.
Nothing.
No one trying to
help me out.
No one trying to 
break down these
walls.
Except for one
person.
That person being 
her.
She tries to rip down
the walls.
She tries to pull me
out. 
But the walls reattach
themselves.
She's the only one
trying.
No one else.
Now for you my hidden
crush.
You will never try as 
much as she does.
So stop trying to 
succeed.
Cause you will never 
get me.
Now all I hear is the
irking noises from
my brothers.
The bickering from my
mother.
All these noises.
Its driving me crazy.
My father,
no longer my father.
More of a sperm donor.
Though I wish I came out
with his eyes.
I wish I came out with
his long, tight, curly hair.
When he was supposed to
be in my life,
he went off and married
a wife.
But his wife is more of a
father.
My father and my 
connection,
there is no connection.
My stepmother and my 
connection,
is beautiful.
So why can't my father
be the father he is
supposed to be? 
My tight little box is
collapsing on top of me.
I can no longer gasp for
air. 
Cause there is no air for me
to gasp from.
I can't breathe no more.
So just going to lay here 
and die.
In my small little box.

Zerk the Berserk

Zerk was a lurking berserk
who lived in the murky-murk of the cirque 
by the smirking Turk 
Zerk was irking a-jerkin’ and a draught of perkin
Zerk was a-joying his shirker’s approach towards work
Zerk was a-starking, a-barking, and a-marking the world with his dirk
Zerk was a-perking for a-harking about bo-razzle and bo-really fools
Zerk was a-quirking, an abundance of uncorking bottles, un-forking sustenance, 
            and un-storking women
Zerk was not a follower of any kirk
Zerk was a-hoping to clerk for an irksome and biased hipster jerk 
Zerk was always a-hanging out with his friends Breschel, and Lurch
Zerk contributed his artwork to the world, 
Zerk was by no means a berk, instead he was quite the intellectual quirk
Zerk was always a-yerking out at the berks with his political and philosophical propaganda
Zerk was always a-chirking up Lurch with his meditative-mindset

My Heart Is Content Not To Fly

Once upon a tragic, forsaken love,
A wish miscued from somewhere above.
So incorrect, 
I could not detect,
Nor should expect, 
Our bond fit like hand to glove.

A sour lullaby, sang a love you couldn't feel, 
Naive to believe in honesty, 
Or a sense of dignity, 
For this love was not real.
Our chance together, 
Never! (Heart from my body severed!)
And so, the fate of our demise was sealed.

With help from His Grace, 
Perfection put to face, 
I delivered to you a precious child. 
Eyes shed tears of rain, 
Along side labor pain,  
Our daughter's cries were mild. 

Yet you cast me aside, 
No guilt or pride,
Goading me to confide, 
In my own gutt, wrenching exile.

Forced to swallow with discreet digestion, 
Your lies, 
Like flies, 
Became an infestation, 
Invaded my soul with demoralization.

Such avoidable, emotional harm!
With the destruction you create,
 This heart did break, 
From my mistake,
Of adoring your alluring charm.
So sure
And secure 
You were my cure, 
Now the source of my remorse, anger 
And alarm.

Irking, 
Jerking, 
Ever Lurking.
Illusive, 
Reclusive,
A devious disposition conclusive, 

It was all but conclusively foretold.
No vision will ever compare, 
To the bed you did share! 
A nauseating display to behold!
Like an infection, 
Visual unintentional confession, 
My heart's rejection, 
Plaques me like a committed cold.

Spreading like a disease, 
Your amoral flees, 
Crawl with ease, 
On my back of discontent.
No more weeping, 
From your creeping, 
For I permit the deepening 
Of my detestation to ferment.

No tear from my eye, 
For I would not cry, 
Nor utter a sigh, 
If you fell off the face of this continent.
With all that I've gone through,
With you, 
I let my body lie.
Once love dies, 
Time will only revive, 

But no renew, 
Will ever be there for you.
I lay still for love...Until, 
I'm ready to give love another try.
But this is my Vow,As of right now,
My heart is content not to fly.

The Murder Diaries Ii

This tongue broadcasts
hushed tones of satanic nature
And strange snickers
resounded throughout the canyons
Chanting nocturnes as irking
as a rhino horn against a chalkboard
yet the prophecy remained clear
I had to find this beast…

Cart Blanche Aldi Time - Part Iii

glancing at thee beautiful doll female human, 
   an aggregate of positivity arose. That four 
tut hood toward slender youthful looking chica 
   figuratively took my breath away. She galore
re: us lee ranked topnotch on my register 
   of aesthetic delight. Thus, while this jackfrosted hoar
frosted flake ambled up and down aisles, 

   an aim sought to relay pleasant physiology while Igor
Stravinsky – Flight of the Bumblebee buzz 
   within every square inch of my anatomy bon jour
quivered with cockiness, covetousness, 
   and craveness without resorting to Dumble Da lore 
for guidance, hence indecorous, impetuous, 
   or idolatrousness loosed rampant as more
consideration asper jimmying bold, daring do 
   hounded (Lo and Behold) luck did not ig nor.
A nod in answer to prayer ready set terrific 
   wonderful chance arose pondering how to mine ore

and coax a major outcome addressing this ambition, 
   which unceasingly pecked, piqued, dirt poor
piss lee  pricked thy noggin about sudden revelation 
   presence pretty lady Upon quor 
tar number of minutes passed, 
   whereat her increasing proximity, an unflagging score
begging akin to patriotic duty and appeasement 
   sans uttering a compliment recognized roar 
ring optimal (once in a solar eclipse) chance 
   to corral, field, and invoke latent obligation that tore
per regaling unknown xwoman a dollop gratutity. 
   Whether embarassment ensued possibly war
temporarily shunted aside, cuz if no propensity 
   to risk testing cab age comfort zones of yore

if awesome stroke ignored, a disappointment 
   toward self would manifest irking conscience. 
For the rest of eternity. So without missing 
a beat (and reckoning with nary a spare off fence
guess not to turnip ma nose), a apple lick able amicus 
   brief pickle this complimentary gents
dare devilishly egged, finessed, gambit regarding 
   how gorgeous (a veritable stranger) kents
humed and appealed to me, whence squashing 
   regret at a costly emotional ex pence.

Mind of An Hungry Beggar Child

We're hungry 
But we lacking 

We can't even dare ask 
Cos for us all, eating food is really an heinous task 

Their moving out in their cars 
While we, in here we are, hiding in our infectious scars 

I wanna go out of here to there 
But what about these ones I've got as friends 

It's really irking 
But can I be in such a hurry? 

If I have the brain to leave! 
How will my younger ones live? 

If I have the power to go and beg! 
What about those in here, living without legs? 

But then, we're hungry 
And we've got no one sending us daily meals 

Seems I just have to make a run for it 
And beg a few things for human being to eat 

We all don't have a choice but to live our time this way 
For we are children of those who didn't make good use of their young days. 

©Emmiasky Ojex
#makingnoisemajestically

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