Best Leave Out Poems
If only I could write you a sonnet,
Iambic pentameter and what not,
Let my muse mull profoundly upon it.
I must write it quickly lest I forgot.
It will have to stress real passion, love,
Mention a rose if I really must
But for heaven's sake leave out the white dove,
Still do mention the red moon that I trust.
Compare her eyes to some fragrant flower,
And wish to taste her full strawberry lips,
Scheme to meet her in a quiet bower,
Clouds enfold us in mythical eclipse.
Will she come, will she go, my marigold?
Ah, my poor love sonnet has now gone cold.
POTD 14 September 2020
If you Really Knew Me
By Kevin Robey
Febraury 16, 2013
If you really knew me, you’d see through these lies
The smiles and laughs, can’t conceal my eyes
You won’t ask questions, you won’t suspect
You won’t see it coming, my final misstep
If you read this now, you know it’s true
Maybe there never was a me and you
So many times, I fall so hard
Don’t rise again, joy’s much too far
I wish I was stronger, but my mind is stuck
I made it this far, based solely on blind luck
I know you’d tell me, to take it easy
This upcoming part may make you queasy
Be kind, and notify my next of kin
Leave out the part of my final sin
Another one in line with many
Proof I was my own worst enemy
Join me in my dark and twisted fantasy
Of opened wrists, my last reality
My breathing slows, as the crimson glistens
My thoughts are peaceful, lean in and listen
Let’s make this emo, and write a note
I’ll even throw in a depressing quote
Maybe goodbye, sorry, and such
You say I had it all, I say not so much
These medals and trophies seem to say
That I made the most of every day
The truth is I was simply biding my time
None of those moments were truly mine
You see everything, but I leave with nothing
Didn’t believe me, you accused me of bluffing
So see me now, as I bleed to the floor
Take time and read to me that final score
The end is here, the war is won
The battle is lost, but wasn’t it fun?
Torturous dreams and false realities
Were the only real friends to me
So it’s time to sign out
I promise not to shout
Sweep me under the rug
Let me go, I’ll pull the plug
The end is here, I’m so relieved
Despite of all I managed to achieve
Don’t cry for me, I’m finally happy
This is my last wish, my final plea
So I close my eyes for the final time
I think to the beauty in words that rhyme
My final exhale marks the final scene
Knowing nothing is ever, quite as it seems
I have attempted to capture my favorite major league baseball players in this little shape poem of home plate. Included are (in no particular order):
Say Hey Willie Mays Walter Johnson (Big Train)
Randy Johnson (The Big Unit) Babe Ruth (The Sultan Of Swat)
Tony Gwynn Jimmie Foxx
Ted Williams Maury Wills
Stan “The Man” Musial Johnny Bench
Ken Griffey Jr Greg Maddox
Henry Aaron Lou Gehrig
Roberto Clemente Ty Cobb
Satchell Paige Ernie Banks
Rickey Henderson Carl Yastrzemski (Yaz)
Trevor Hoffman Albert Pujols
Gibson (Bob and Josh) Honus Wagner
Rogers Hornsby Cal Ripken
Robinson (Jackie, Frank and Brooks)
Some favorites I had to leave out…
Christy Mathewson Warren Spahn
Sandy Koufax Tom Seaver
Mickey Mantle Rod Carew
Joe Morgan Ozzie Smith
Mariano Rivera Miguel Cabrera
Pedro Martinez Ichiro Suzuki
David Ortiz Jose Altuve
I’d love to see your faves mentioned in the comments section!
written 24 Aug 2020
The art
of crafting
poetry is
deciding which words to
leave out
[Cinqku]
Written 26 April 2020
Do you dare to hear this story,
listen to the rant of a cuckold tale
This story will give you nightmares
if your masculinity has begun to fail
Despondent voice of said henpecked man
was recorded secretly at a support group therapy session
He swear he loves his wife,
don't know why he picked up the knife
Says he has a wonderful life,
but something is not quite right
Then he contradicts what he just said,
the reasons why are mixed up in his head
He confess that he just wanted to scare her ...
frighten her bad
But he wasn't too convincing,
she only started to laugh
She commanded him to put the knife down,
then started to throw her 130-pound weight around
Used sex as the ultimate weapon,
said love was going out of town ... indefinitely
He said he begged like never before,
pleading with her to please don't leave out the door
Said she just slapped his pride on the backside,
told him the bank account was gonna take a nosedive
Raised her eyebrows and gave a baleful stare,
then said he was having it too good
He said when she gets to talking like that,
he's learned over time not to say anything back
Letting out a small sigh, he said
he simply becomes a docile little boy
and go sit elsewhere
Says the only time he roars like a lion,
is when she tries to take away his adult toys
Trying to stop him from getting season tickets
is gonna cause him to make a lot of noise
So she just let him be for awhile,
let him calm down ... give him a warm smile
He said being henpecked ain't so bad,
he gets his favorite meal after breaking mad
Yet and still, he seemed kinda sad
Now that the group therapy is over,
he said his wife is gonna come get him
And make a point to remind him
of how he dresses so bad
That he's such a loser, just like her dad
In the depths of her words I dwell
every inflection and punctuation
accenting upon another emotion
but it's between the lines I rest
not understanding I confess
silent letters gnawing at my brain
maddening and driving me insane
They're out in the open
but hidden beneath
the cadence the dialect
making me a wreck
spell it out for me
I cant stress it enough
simply and slowly
leave out the fluff
Roll away with your r's
and dot those pretty little eyes
whisper sweet harmonies
with a melodic reprise
Six months since Christmas and people are down
Trudging through life with a full facial frown
Back in December we hoped it would snow
But not a flake settled, well wouldn’t you know
I remember thinking if it can’t be white
Let’s have a Christmas that’s sunny and bright
Move that joyous season to balmy July
For Boxing Day sunbathing when we can fry
Those Aussies have had it too good for too long
To them a white Christmas would simply be wrong
A dull, cloudy Christmas is Christmas gone flat
But a Bognor like Bondi… I’ll have some of that
If Christmas in Britain was moved to July
We’d leave out ice cream for when Santa comes by
But no doubt we Brits would find cause to complain
It’s July in Britain… it’s still bound to rain
9 July 2022
Contest: Christmas In July
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin
Rhyme Checked by… ensuring words sound the same ;-)
There was a young girl, who
was often put in many boxes.
She was put into a box by
family members. Because she
was a bit shy and awkward.
Resulting in the box of feeling
like an outcast. Life was hard
and she got treated differently
because she wasn’t pretty
enough or thin enough.
Resulting in a box of low
self-esteem.
When she went to school she
got put into another box. And
she had trouble focusing and
paying attention. Going to
school was so much of a
struggle that she would
often daydream. Her box
was her mind, due to the
fact that she didn’t learn
like other people.
When she would write she would
often leave out words. She felt
so dumb. Years later she found
out that she had a learning
disability. What saved her is she
could always write a good story.
Although it was not grammatically
correct.
Her life changed when she found
writing. That girl started to believe
in herself more. Although she
continues to struggle with how
she learns that young lady will
not be confined to any box.
She will break down any box
that she finds herself in.
Whether it’s feeling like an
outcast, having low esteem,
or feeling dumb. Feeling in-
competent originated In
her mind.
04/27/2023
Contest: X Challenge Words
Sponsor: Constance La France
The doghouse needs a paint job now our dog and I have swapped
our sleeping quarters after making sure, that the penny dropped.
You see I shut up the missus which was a blessing at the time,
but to have her being speechless, in our house is a crime.
It was a Sunday afternoon when my problem starts to flare,
and me on my seventh stubby, so began her questionnaire.
‘How many beers do you drink daily?’ She first said to me,
and I shrugged ‘I dunno; maybe I’d average three.’
‘Three’ she says, ‘every day. So how much do you pay?’
I’m not sure and so I said to her, ‘five bucks each I’d say.’
And of course, this set her mind, towards onward thinking,
so, then she’s asking me, ‘how long have you been drinking?’
When I replied ‘twenty years,’ she went for something greater
to go shaming me by using, her mental calculator,
‘Five dollars each and three per day; each month five-forty bucks.
In just one year that’s seven grand, and boy oh boy that sucks.’
What could I say; she’s right – I took a bite of humble pie,
and waited for the next tirade once she looked me in the eye,
‘If you multiply by twenty, and leave out inflation,
you’ve spent one-forty thousand in a wasteful situation.’
Drinking beer is wasteful! Has she lost her flamin’ mind?
And if I thought she’d finished; that thought soon declined;
‘If you did not drink beer, do you know what you could have done?
You could have saved with interest, and our troubles would be none.’
‘You could have brought an aeroplane after all those twenty years,
instead of flushing down the toilet, all those wasteful beers,’
but then one quote from me, is enough to send her near insane,
‘Seeing you’ve not had a glass of beer, where’s your aeroplane?’
When I grow up I will be
A forest with every kind of tree.
Part of a dark brilliant woods
I will do all the gets, leave out the should’s.
People will revere me for my age.
My rings will show my wisdom sage.
Of course I’m in no hurry to be cut down.
Unless it’s done by a lumberjack clown.
A lumberjack clown I’d like to be
If I cannot be a forest with every kind of tree.
What they don’t tell You
What the recruiters tell you:
“Be all you can be.”
“An Army of one.”
“Fly high with the Air Force.”
“Join the Navy and see the world.”
“Be the best. Be a Marine.”
“Join the National Guard and get an education and keep your job.”
Things recruiters leave out:
Watching your friend(s) go home in body bag(s).
The dirt and sweat.
C rations, K rations, MRE’s.
PTSD, suicides, drug addiction.
Limbs lost. Traumatic brain injury.
Bloated, decomposing corpses.
Dead men, women and children.
Fear so intense you soil yourself.
Lice, sand, dust, cold, heat.
The stench of death.
Families torn apart.
Long road to rehab or death whichever comes first.
You've come wanting a potion
you've come wanting a spell
you're looking for some magic
an enchantment, I can tell
I think I've got the thing for you
step back and let me see
a few ingredients in my pot
to avoid catastrophe
A little bit of hazelnut
a sprig of basil leaf
an ounce of buttered ogre toes
a dash of "oh good grief!"
A teensy part of a unicorn's horn
bacon from a flying pig
a tablespoon of fairy spit
some dirt from a graveyard dig
Let's not forget some daydream broth
a cup of "if you dare"
a portion of a werewolve's howl
a fair amount of nightmare
We couldn't leave out a magic bean
half of a warlock's curse
a triple dose of pixie dust
and three coins from a dead man's purse
Finally I'll add a sprinkling
of teardrops just for her
that's everything I do believe
I'll just give it a stir
Well now my potion is complete
I'll go grab a cup
this will grant you what you want
so come on now, drink up!
When you're away son
My thoughts are for you're safety
And then you come home~messy
There's stinky laundry
Dirty dishes everywhere
But my love grows every day
Then back on the road
I listen to the news cast
You don't call and I worry
And soon you come home
Stinky laundry, smelly socks
Tobacco spilled but love gives
Cody came home for the weekend.
He will leave out again today.
He will pick up a trainee so I won't
hear from him very often..
He won't be back until Christmas..
Through winding roads, life leads where it ………………………………………… Will
Reaching rugged mountain peaks and valleys deep, until ………………. . You
Eventually arrive at this conclusion- each day is a gift- best take it ... Slow
Too few breathe deeply when shadows gather and when at night, lay .. Down
Recall the sweet moments, like an offspring's first smile ............ And
Leave out slights that sting and bitter words with acrid …………………… Smell
Like fallen leaves, the days turn to dust and vanish beneath ……………… The
Iridescent sunlight and summer rains that water thirsty …………………… Roses
Giving new life to all who with gratitude, acknowledge the gift …………… As
Hope breathes tomorrows new chances to scale mountains ……………… You
Traverse and the raging, wild rivers you'll cross on this arduous …………Journey
~*~
4/30/14
Note: For Jared's "Acrostic/End Line Word" Contest
4th Place
Two Minutes to Midnight
What are your intentions Sir, its important that I know?
The World is close to Midnight, only two minutes to go.
Remember empty promises to keep us safe and free,
Words of retaliation, serve no one, wouldn’t you agree.
It’s no good building bridges, just to knock them down,
Capitalists will also perish, when seeds of war are sown.
Be the greater Man, leave out your pompous rhetoric,
World’s present isn’t dead, but it may be a little sick.
A Trojan Horse is not the way, a strategy doomed to fail,
Talk with counterparts; alone you’re anaemic and pale.
Be a great ambassador, don’t leave us on the outside,
Say no to war, be the bigger man, stand tall with pride.
The future is in your hands, if only for four short years,
Consider the fate of Man, don’t leave us dead or in tears.
For Roberts 8 word challenge contest
Poem written in Sonnet form 8/3/18