Best Misshapen Poems
I reflect the truth, yet you see a lie
I'm just a humble mirror, I wonder why
I love the shape, of your beautiful face
Why when you look, do you feel such disgrace?
The curve of your breasts, a delightful sight
You see them as misshapen and not quite right
The clothes you try on, somehow trick your mind
When you think you are fat, I think you're quite blind
If I were magic, I'd help you to see
All that is true, when you look into me
Upon reflection, you'd be satisfied
You'd marvel and feel, a measure of pride
For no other women, can compare to you
So uniquely splendid, please see what is true
The sum of your parts, breathtaking and whole
A subtle confidence, bubbling up from your soul
My true pleasure, is witnessing your smile
For you are a woman, with beauty and style
No need to be afraid, when you look into me
Look beyond your fears and see what I see.
Categories:
misshapen, image,
Form:
Personification
Looking at your misshapen little red face,
only a mother can appreciate the beauty when seeing her
very precious baby for the first time.
Eyes filled with happy tears as I
looked at your blonde hair and blue eyes and
inspected your tiny little fingers and toes.
Never had I seen a more beautiful child –
everything about you was simply perfect!
Soon you were sleeping peacefully,
safe in the arms of your adoring mother.
Contest: Loveliness Acrostic
Sponsor John Hamilton
submitted to Any Acrostic of 10 to 12 lines Poetry Contest
sponsored by Line Gauthier
02~15~16
Categories:
misshapen, baby, beautiful, mother son,
Form:
Acrostic
Some folks call me a sausage dog
I think they couldn’t be meaner
It’s not my fault I’m long and short
And look like a misshapen wiener
I’ve got four stumpy little legs
So my tummy is near to the ground
My owner’s take me for a drag not a walk
Guess that's why they named me Cigarette!
01~16~15
Contest: Dachshunds – Rob Carmack
~awarded 9th place~
Premiere Contest #13 sponsored by SKAT
Categories:
misshapen, dog, humorous,
Form:
Free verse
Can there be beauty in my toes,
Where stubbornly a fungus grows?
I never thought it could be true.
I try to hide it with my shoe.
Its purpose, not yet discovered—
I try hard to keep it covered.
From large toe to the next it spread,
And now I look at both with dread.
It wants to grow against the norm,
My toenail with misshapen form,
Knows the wild ways it wants to grow,
And now it has a mate in tow!
I’ve vowed to make a sacred oath
To kill this hated fungal growth,
But I now see the beauty of
My wayward toes denied of love
Are like the people we might hate
And I’ve learned to appreciate
Diversity against the norm,
Well taught to me through my toes’ form;
That each of us must be unique,
And there’s the beauty that I seek!
As my fungal toe and its mate,
Which I condemned as reprobate,
Conceals within their ugly form,
Their freedom’s right against the norm!
© 1-18-15 ~First Place~
For Hidden Beauty Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Rhonda Johnson-Saunders
*Meant as a metaphor for those who don't appear as normal looking!
Categories:
misshapen, beauty, freedom, life, metaphor,
Form:
Couplet
I see you in the shadows
something misshapen
moving through the dark.
I am not afraid of what you are
just come here closer
reach out for my hand
and I will do what I can
to release your confined....
No more tears, no hiding in fears.
No more pain, no longer insane.
I see you in the shadows
where looks are deceiving.
You're a gentle monster
would never harm a fly.
You are not a vampire
fearful of the sunlight
just come here closer to me
I am reaching out my hand
take it, step up into the sun....
Warmth to feel, know it is real.
No more sorrow, with love in tomorrow.
I see you in the shadows
and I see a reflection of me
cause I've been there
lived a life of solitude
away from prying eyes.
All I wished for was a hand
to come closer to pull me
free from the depths
and reintroduce me to day....
A shy smile, hidden for awhile.
Ran away from home, now left to roam.
I see you in the shadows
you are beautiful to me
we are all blemished
on the surface and deep inside.
Come to me, even closer now
your hand rests in mine
I feel your trust grow
you break away from the shell....
A new start, a revived heart.
We are free, no more shadows to see.
Categories:
misshapen, care, fear, friend, identity,
Form:
Free verse
Boxed in prize-fighter
Spinning punches for a sold-out crowd
Tubes and tubes
Run chain for miles, rust spots baring
Stark, empty Jews
Playing corn in a field, as
Nazi golems keep track of the moves.
A dusty field lying naked and bruised
Soaking a fever
Like a garden patch, mid-Sundayafternoon.
A mindless hum and the funereal gloom
Turns black to life - avarice Mary; my wife
Has been sick Seven years - with undying green eyes
Her clock springs sprung, like the misshapen tide.
Categories:
misshapen, allegory, angst, social,
Form:
Lyric
Adrift is smoke, that rises into the shape of a question mark...
Blurring the vacant night, with a ceremonial arc
Tomorrow, under a different sky, in a brand new way
I will wake up to a different sun, and to a wistful song of yesterday
'Though, I cannot find a star, through the drowning dredge of rain
Tonight the moon, left behind, wears a bitter frown of blame
Like a crying mother calling, with a voice of great devotion
A whistle's wailing sadness, resounds my own emotions
With tear-stained eyes, I witness the reflection
In view from where my heart once lived, a dismal day's rejection
I feel the rumble of the wheels, and a tumble of my heart
With a tremble, as the landscape is swallowed by the dark
The snake-like chain bends eastward into constellation courage
With strange misshapen shadows, streaking illuminated passage
Raindrops mimic my own heart, upon the window glass
Spilling over imprints of all the futile questions asked
I find my throat is swollen, and my will too worn to speak
Beside me, rudely flaunting, is a taunting, empty seat
Like a sickle for harvesting a lonely star…
Smoke sketches the sky with the shape of a question mark...
____________________________________________________________
Submitted for Craig Cornish's Contest
8/13/13
Categories:
misshapen, goodbye, lost love, sad
Form:
Rhyme
Playing
with words under fire
Is like making
a jar out of clay
Amorphous, grotesque,
misshapen
and odd
But the potter's keen hands know
the way.
So as the words spin on his wheel
He takes the lump in his clutch,
And softens it slowly by feel
With a firm and yet delicate touch.
Then those formed words under fire
Sculpted new into perfect design
Molded to the potter's desire
Are then given a glaze and a shine.
9.11.18
Contest: Playing with words under fire
Categories:
misshapen, art, words,
Form:
Concrete
Would you confine me to a granite wall,
Where skies are arid dry and desolate?
Would tones of warmth be frozen when I call,
While desert seas insist that I’m to wait?
For heard my ears were horns and trumpets song,
That beckoned siren’s tune directed near,
With notes beholden lovely lyrics long,
Too short my liking still kept tightly dear.
Will my signature scratch out useless words?
I fear misshapen signs might fade from sun,
And sheathed would be a poet’s golden chords,
Strummed for exquisite beauty seen in one;
I stand atop your sprawling precipice,
Awaiting smiles from you that render bliss.
Categories:
misshapen, identity,
Form:
Sonnet
Soaking wet the grey sheep huddle
by the stone wall shaped and laid
to last five hundred more years still.
Rains sheeting o'er the moor leave
us dripping as the fish in Foley's Tarn.
Clouds careen across the sky like
ragged flags unfurling, our house is
battered by the storm's relentless wrath,
and something's coming...
It's nights like this that bring the creature
from the other side of time, misshapen
wretch with no measure of humanity,
dragging its loathsome body to our door.
Squelching abomination with dark sockets
for its eyes, a travesty of decency and grace.
Not marked in any almanac, no picture
of this beast save in the nightmares
of our child, who flies into his mother's
arms and trembles, trying to scrape
the ugly specter from his mind,
for he knows...
he can feel the slimy presence
hidden deep within the shadows
of the house. Is it living only in his
darkest fears? Once settled is he
free of fang and claw?
"Leave a light on, Mom!"
Categories:
misshapen, metaphor,
Form:
Verse
THE MONSTER YOU DREAD
i can’t handle rejection,
the unhug of perfection.
a piercing scream of perplexion —
my complexion streaked
grouted and piqued.
i backhanded you by
closing the splintered door,
vainglorious to the core —
now you can’t see the open sore.
you never uncovered, never looked,
never came to find me, i’m overlooked.
hiding beneath the bed, i’m the monster
you dread — tear-salted tongue, the martyr
with claws tearing at my skin - my fear
that she sips her coffee carelessly - oh dear...
the suicidal stripes down my cheeks sear
as my mother wanders through her year.
if only a look, a hug, a kind word spoken
to me would tear me from this sea forsaken —
this torrent, harangue of waves, haplessly
dashing, against heart and soul. if only a creak,
a scintilla of light would peek into
my claustrophobic space, saving me from me.
but i, only i...must resolve, unhinge the lock,
step out and see the clearing of the crock...
all alone on my private island - its unsecured dock.
i pretend it never mattered but carry the doom
within my flesh, my invisible childhood looms.
ready at turn to rear its misshapen head, its claws
digging into a buried past — all my flaws...
jealousy pops up in the middle of my joy
i stomp the frenetic beast, clawing its face.
i refuse to be that monster, that disgrace!
6/14/2019
Move me Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Richard Lamoureux
Categories:
misshapen, childhood, emotions,
Form:
Rhyme
I
A day, a blessing, misshapen
Careless words, good deeds overtaken
You rise, we rise: building on the trough
Cresting arrested; environment looks tough
We cannot fall further, sink lower
We remain connected, no matter the matter
Mother and child, ocean & waves, eternally
Somewhere deeper, Universe is you and me
II
You were cresting, dancing with siblings
Environments include YOU, both creating
A win-win world, Oceans of happy waves
Even when we crash, the trough saves
It is our connection to the Ocean Bed
No matter the weather ... Curses, words said
You are more, more than that spent wave
You have tasted eternity; you are beyond brave
III
We are more than our profession
We are more than any reputation
We are more than strong, or wise
We are more than traps that surprise
U & I are the universe experiencing Itself
New American loses identity of immigrant
The play of creation depends on disguise
Maybe that God as Spirit borrows our eyes
IV (Envoi)
You are much more than you know
Look for the empowerment in surprise
Go with the flow as a wave, ebb and flow
Maybe God as Spirit must borrow our eyes
NOTE: I am still new to this form and modified the rhyme scheme
From ababbcbc ; ababbcbc; ababbcba; bcbc
Categories:
misshapen, angst, creation,
Form:
Ballade
We See What We Want To See
White lines carelessly scribbled oblique
For those who believe, a crucifix unique
Amidst this domain, beauty fills empty space
Wings of an angel, profile of a face
A bold, immense mammoth, a fierce dinosaur
Their presence once solid, but now metaphors
A heart, though misshapen, its meaning quite clear
One’s lover must now be the omniscient seer
Mountains so broad, clustered together as one
Shift slightly; a thin crevice welcomes the sun
Light through the crevice emerges, then fades
As the mountains float on in the sky parade
While drifting and dancing, these shapes may transmute
New chance for imagination to take root
The massive, dark storm clouds set my visions free
For the beauty in life is what we choose to see…
June 4, 2021
Categories:
misshapen, adventure, metaphor,
Form:
Rhyme
Fragments of crumbing emotions morph
into all the different shapes necessary;
to complete the puzzle of life.
My youth is a collage of missing bits and pieces,
fragmented memories of family;
haunting, faded
recollections.
I recall a few fleeting moments of happiness,
and yet, the veil of time shadows the rest.
I don't remember any suppressed stuff;
those old scars still mark my dreams as incomplete.
Can love compose a meaningful picture
from so many misshapen pieces;
find the castaway cut-outs,
and start shaping new ones?
Life is a puzzle;
and like all puzzles,
if you want to see the completed picture,
you need to fill in the pieces.
Categories:
misshapen, angst, anxiety, feelings, life,
Form:
Verse
Nothing like you
I would have liked to have been somewhere better with you,
But I just couldn’t care about anything that you do.
I would have liked to have seen something good inside of you,
But there is nothing there to find, so I will be nothing like you.
You know I hate to be the one to tell you,
Just how much I really hate you and everything that you do.
You make war, not love; with every fight our love is dying.
The two of us together should never have happened,
So why is it only me who seems to always be crying?
You are nothing like me in the love that I feel;
You feel nothing of the love that I have to give.
Your eyes are so wide open, searching for a way to be free;
Well there is an easy way to make you happy; go ahead and leave.
In this misshapen body, I am nothing like you;
In this beautiful mind, I am nothing like you.
In this relationship of lies, I am screaming the truth!
You are nothing like me and I am nothing like you!
(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Categories:
misshapen, anger, break up, cry,
Form: