Best Molded Poems


Molded Paper

Lofty mast
Romantic blast
His replica cast
Paper flowers wilt fast
Will childhood memories last
A year and Sunday since he passed
Form: Monorhyme

Mother Molded Mahatma

The name Mahatma Gandhi is synonymous with truth
But he was not an epitome of truth by birth 
His mother Putlibai had had strong religious faith
Unless and until rituals completed, she used to hold breath 

She also practiced the sacred "Kokila Vratha" - a vow ritual
She would wait for the call of Kokila - cuckoo - before breakfast
To have breakfast, such call of the cuckoo is vital 
One day she waited for a long for such call but steadfast

Young Gandhi couldn't bear such of her strain
He gone out of the house and imitated
like the cooing, the way the cuckoo used to entertain
Then persuaded mother to eat, as if he had never acted

Instead she slapped Gandhi as if an arrow pierced her heart
She wailed,"What a great sinner am I to have begotten 
such a wicked liar as son, Oh Lord!" as she knew his act of covert 
On seeing her eyes with tears, young Gandhi was profoundly bitten

Deeply moved by her words, Gandhi made a promise 
to her: "In my life, henceforth, I will not utter falsehood"
Thus mother molded a new Gandhi, to firmly raise
Even with troubles and turmoil, like rock he stood

There are numerous events to adore Gandhi sticking to truth
With stern and unyielding morality, he made his mother more beautiful
"As is the seed, so is the plant" is a fact and not a myth
Only such lesson scissiled Gandhi to remain forever truthful !



Copyrights reserved by Mr. V.MUTHU MANICKAM
Form: Quatrain

The Fraud Molded Soul

An old friend made it like blossom in my soul,
All I was feeling was blood rush in the deep core.
It wasn’t just friendship that brought two of us so close,
We were hoping for so much more leaving behind the sore.

All i could understand about her, was the angelic nature she hold,
But who knew, it was just the double heart she had mold.
The way she uncovered herself to me was all I knew,
But the molded heart opened up to me like rotten stew.

I never thought, it would turn up to me like this,
For all i just was waiting for the little bliss.
The world pretended to me like gratifying & liberated,
But it ended up the other way which I had most hated.

All she possessed was the "Nature fake",
And I felt like washing my hands in the dirty lake.
On every step she just tried to prove me wrong,
With all this I knew it’s not going to go too long.

From all this I have learned a lesson to remember,
Trust only those, who have heart like divine messenger.
Just turn out to this world, the way you are,
Because later on it just gonna left like a dirty scar.


-By (Gautam)
Dated on – 20th Dec 2014
© Mr Gautam  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


I Like Stone Am Molded O'Er

What shimmers in the shadow like
Behind the shadow of these eyes
Twilight and the tryst
Of time we cannot list
But if my love I list the hours
Spent beneath the woeful powers
Of sun and moon and simmered star
The hours will not get me far
Bound in circles round the sun
And circles make our hearts undone
But there is final beauty in the place
Where sunlight falls on wintr’y palace
And all the portals of the sky
Are frosted silver in the night
There-my love-my soul is spent
On memories-but not again
I cannot rise-I cannot wake
Tis crueler than a deathly state
For if a broken soul may writhe
And pass beyond its mortal rim
At least in passing it doeth give
A glint of what once was lived
But I like stone am molded o’er
Till crumbling turn to dust no more.

Where Minds Are Freed Not Molded-

dipping my paddle in and out as I go 
down main street of the wilderness empire
where the road is made of water 
and the wooden poles hold branches not wire

twisting through the changing banks
of a gentle but still thunderous river
while an approaching mellow darkness 
causes the birch tree leaves to shiver

and the setting sun flickers like a candle 
through the trembling branches as it says goodnight 
but the storm wins the race and smothers the sun 
before it had the chance to fall out of sight

as nature is one of the few places where 
chaos and tranquility walk hand in hand 
and there is no script for what will happen next 
when the elements rule over a nameless land
Form: Rhyme

7 4 Letter Words That Molded My Life

How I had hate for you, for a longest time in my life,
All I ever thought I was,  was the slave in your eyes,
T eaching me the lessons of life, with wrought hands,
Every time you beat me, you beat me like a man.

Pain was an illusion, I soon learned to over come,
Another beating over, well another soon will  come.
In your eyes I was a really bad child, where you had to punish me,
Nothing ever stopped you, not even my screams.

How you have hurt  me, scars I carry inside,
Understanding why for me, was a never ending fight,
Reliving all those memories, brings me much shame,
Toughen up you reckon, you must be insane.

Fearing you triggered my anxiety early on in my life,
Each day I'd come home from school, and all I wanted to do was hide,
Always alert, always on guard, always looking for signs,
Readying the will to take it again, just like every other time

Very vein you where of how I was raised, you often talked to friends,
Even beatings in front of them, putting me on display entertaining them,
In your mind you were justified, and I had to pay,
Never a care for me in mind, it's my fault you were that way.

Relentlessly  and repeatedly, I suffered from your rage,
All the time just screaming at me, because some how I misbehaved,
Getting it out of you system once, was never enough,
Enraged by the loss of yourself control, always re-sparked you off.

Love was the reason you told me, you did it cause you cared,
Over the years you ingrained this in me, So one day I could share,
Very proud of this love you were, I never went out,
Every time you thought I needed more, It was time for another bout.


Thirty four years of hate and anger it took me, 
before I could understand what real love was.
Form: Acrostic


Premium Member Molded Clay

As a molded clay
Shaped by laborious hands
Cracked in the outside
Symbol of the brunts of life
Choosing to rise from ashes











Example For Victim Or Victor Contest
September 13, 2016
Form: Tanka

Thoughts of Some Little Things That Molded My Mind

skipping joyfully to a snowflake dream tonight
i am five years old again....maybe six
Santa Claus is causing me an obviously sleepless night, but i'm smiling

the beach is so dead it is alive
though the breeze is relentlessly cold, i do indeed feel revived
the surprising peace and quiet reintroduces my rare smile to Charlie

flowers once again for her
i never cry, but i choke back the tears
she thanks me by the whispering wind of her listening ear
in that beautifully delivered moment, i have no hint of fear

my Carolina blues are temperamental
the warmth in the frigidity is getting harder to find
the back roads smile for me as i watch Queen Phlebotomist smile relaxingly in slumber

my soul has survived many facets of weather
my soul has weathered many masquerade parties thrown by seductive versions of melancholy
happy endings, unbeknownst to me, pours Revivals of Soothing Rain.....on my soul.....

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ME.....
SO GOLDEN......
SO SERENE.....
© Marty King  Create an image from this poem.

Molded Candy

The valentine candy was old
It was covered with brown mold
She slapped his face hard
It gave him a hair part
Then put him in a nasty choke-hold
© Daisy Ward  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Limerick

Premium Member A Goodbye Molded by Hate

If there was a poem for every I love you of yours
That weighed more than I'll see you later
Poetry wouldn't exist
And that's why I cry, not your absence
So, by the time I drudge up the energy for goodbye
I digress, I'm done wasting time
p.s. I'll never let poetry die...

Flawlessly Molded Into Better Beauty

Nobody can help but notice her gleaming hazel eyes. 
Whoever disagreed to their beauty is a fool. 
She stands a mere 5 feet tall. 
As her virgin body takes it’s womanly shape, her beauty becomes more conspicuous. 
Although within her eyes, her innocents’ will be everlasting. 
Leaving a smudge from her history. 
Reminding her of her altering beauty into an extraordinary astonishing woman. 
She is so beautiful
Molded flawlessly, after all she is a child of God. 
Her smile is extraordinary. 
It expresses her happiness. 
She deserves her happiness. 
Her accomplishments are noticeable to those who are privileged to be apart of her life. 
And taken within them, wishing her even better success. 
As if nothing is never enough.
Striving for the best in everything she tries. 
Never letting her own personal trial and tribulations cause her distress. 
She is an inspiration. 
She is MY inspiration.
Form:

Molded Perfection

You fit my mold flawlessly
And hold me secure to your chest
There is no need to speak for
Our love is filling the room with
Words my tongue cannot even speak.
We are wrapped up in blankets as you
And I are hopelessly wrapped in each other
You graze my arm and I turn to gaze 
Into your truth-telling Atlantic Ocean blue irises. 
A faint smile and tears rise to your eyes
I am unsure of what’s to come, 
But, you swipe my hair behind my ear and 
Place your hand behind my neck and pull me closer
Kiss my forehead and then my nose 
Every sensory in my body is aware and I am
Still unsure about what is running through your mind.
We fell asleep so soundly and woke to the
Early afternoon sunlight glowing on our faces.

Premium Member God Has Kiss and Molded Meto Life-

Kiss you giving me,
 the breath of Life;
You held me molded me;
Turn me into a light 
Wth your Holy hands;
 oh! God you made me from the ground;
The dirt and clay you mold me 
Lead me to the ground, this land now I stand on;
 I am thankful I'm so glad you did;
Kissing me, molding me;


4/21/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021

Premium Member Molded Plaything

Smushed lump of clay,
molded plaything;
Such a spoiled brat.
Form: Than-Bauk

Premium Member Harvested Molded Clay-

Harvested molded clay 


when you lose your way
Jesus is a way maker 
Jesus finds a way
 He's right there at the harvest 
'Im soiled clay God molds me


2/23/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021
Form: Tanka

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