Best Mopes Poems
PROMISING YOUNG MAN
Hear the travails of a single mother
Traded her heaven for love
But hopes and dreams short-lived and ran
Now she cries aloud to every woman
Be ware of a promising young man
He promised to move me mountains
He vowed to spring forth like fountains
At my faintest whisper when in need
And called on cupid to strike him stupid
If he is short of a word or letter in his creed
He stands and mopes as though lost in lust
It is vanity to yearn and lust over dust
He calls my left keg wonderful
And the right he christened as powerful
Both together he called beautiful
He said the sun rises in my glittering eyes
That heaven is hid between my very thighs
And will persevere till he finally makes it to heaven
He spoke sweet sounding sermons as time ticked eleven
Words like fetters, held hostage a lass due home for seven
He said my presence did make him shiver
And for my absence, he’ll cry me a river
If only I would be his all in one miss
He’ll treat me to a night of ceaseless kiss
And our ever after will be made of an endless bliss
Little did I know that the name I bore was a loan
Soon I’ll be striped of the same and left to moan alone
From my heaven he’s got saints numbering up to seven
Deserted in this lonely cold night as time ticked eleven
He’s abandoned me and all the saints in search for a new heaven
Categories:
mopes, brother, father, husband, me,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
The milquetoast Henry Limpet looks
through horn-rimmed glasses at the books
and four dull office walls each day.
He dreams someday he'll get away.
The sailor's life to Henry seems
the stuff of grand and noble dreams.
Attempts to join the Navy fail.
He faces facts; his ship won't sail.
Denial of his fondest hopes
confound his mind. He walks and mopes
for many hours--then suddenly
before him lies a deep-blue sea.
He knows about the oceans. How
can this one be before him now?
Confused by this discovery,
he falls into this strange new sea.
He doesn't drown as you might think.
He transforms before you could blink
your eyes, and now the Limpetfish
will have great deeds to accomplish.
The townsfish soon become aware
this new one's special and declare
they've never seen so smart a fish.
To make him Emperor's their wish.
He wears a crown in this new world,
a splendid one that's gemmed and pearled.
When asked to name their kingdom, he
says, "Limpet World the name shall be."
His former life's a memory
dimmed by the grandeur of this sea.
The gaping void has now been filled;
his constant need for meaning, stilled.
199 words
posted 11-26-15
March 25, 2018, entered in Deborah Guenther Beachboard's Fantasy Poetry Contest placed 3rd
September 8, 2019, entered in Caren Krutsinger's Your Choice 333 Words Maximum Contest
Categories:
mopes, fantasy, hope, longing,
Form:
Narrative
Jack Ellison wasn't from Nantucket
I read prose that his cleaning lady had a nice bucket
But he vowed to look in silence quite as a mouse
For fear of sleeping in the perpetual doghouse
PD, appears and disappears like whoodini
I have seen the poems where she's a meanie
She also wrote about trading seeds for a donkey
She could have just as easily traded seeds for her monkey
Thephilosopher, what a silly nick indeed
He would trade if he only had a seed
A good monkey he could certainly use
Or would the ass he choose?
I would write about a Star I once knew
But from sight has she flew
Entering contest after contest without fail
A questionable close here could lead to hell
Wayland Bunch mentioned afore
He often rambles and can bore
His idea of humor often misconstrued
If he were a famous writer he'd be sued
There is a poet here named gigno
What is up with him though
Commenting with three exclamations
Does he think they equal explanations?
The Gaijin, clerihew after clerihew he did write
He gave up being Haijin, mostly out of spite
Who wants to write only three lines of poetry, he mopes
Haikus are for dopes (haha, that one should draw some attention)
He's called NietzscheThePhilosipher on Mocospace
Beware moco is a dirty dirty place
He went there often just to chat
But found out that perversion was the welcome mat
The boy from Texas wasn't scared though
He heard much worse, although he says it aint so
One time or two he wrote a clerihew
Becareful lest the next clerihew be about you
He read Jack's quatrains almost everday
They were medicine to the soul he would say
Maybe vodka to the inhibitions explains it best
If not, he'll just drink the vodka and forget the rest
I think I should mention Linda once more
I won't even write what you think, I don't need the war
I live by peace for all, that's the key
What happens if this last line contains piece and monkey (hahahaha)
Categories:
mopes, funny, write, write,
Form:
Clerihew
Let some hope dreams reach arms
first,
Yet come cope. Seems each charm
burst
Frets from dopes' schemes. Speech
harms worst.
Debts numb popes. Teams preach
warm thirst;
Wet rum. Roped beams breech
barms! Cursed
Vets hum mopes! Streams leech!
Farms nurse
Pet bums? Nope! Gleams screeched
swarmed hearse!
Categories:
mopes, angst
Form:
Look what I've done to my poor schnauzer Ray
When I yelled, be more like your sister May!
She's better than you are
Chasing not bird, goose or car
Now he just mopes in the corner all day
2/27/23
Categories:
mopes, humor,
Form:
Limerick
Three boyfriends have I, whom I could marry
Just hit '39' again, so I'd better not tarry
#1's hair is so long and so curly
I don't know anyone cuter
Sleeps all day, and mopes nights away
I call him 'My Active Brooder'
#2 seems polite, a man with some manners
but when he gets mad, ain't nobody ruder
He's into MK-47's, MAGA, the NRA
I call him 'My Active Shooter'
#3's vision's amazing, like Superman's
though frankly, there's nobody lewder
He stares at every skirt that comes his way
I call him 'My Active Denuder'
O, What should I do, I just can't decide
I've got to get married, before I die
Wait - My cat's my best friend, I'll marry him
I'll start a Go-Fund-Me, get 'Jaspar' neutered
Categories:
mopes, adventure, boyfriend, marriage, proposal,
Form:
Rhyme
You bought the ticket, so let's take a ride
I promise not to leave you unsatisfied
You may want a life vest and/or bear spray
And abandon all hope as you enter the doorway...
There's the part of me that runs amok while I sleep
The eccentric puppeteer with a flock of black sheep
Mysteriously promoting subconscious motivations
And slipping in mischievously to my daily communication
There's the part of me that sullenly sulks and mopes
Impossible to please and the dasher of all my hopes
Nothing is ever good enough 'cause it's all so bad
If I ever go to a rubber room, it's 'cause he drove me mad
There's the part of me that endlessly fantasizes
Always conjuring grandiose and complicated enterprises
Content to ruminate and pontificate, but never actually "do"
He's the one who looks fine, as long as you look askew
There's the part of me that works hard and stays quiet
Generally, he's the one I allow to be the pilot
Busy keeping this mind field intact and nicely landscaped
He's the one I always wish got a chance to have escaped
There's many other parts of me vying for their turn at the helm
But, for the most part, I never let them overwhelm
It's as easy as herding cats or nailing jello to the wall
But I must have a self-governing principle, a guiding protocol
I never let any part of myself run the show always
Some I can only let out on vacations and holidays
And I never keep any part of myself shut out completely
I just let it out ever so discreetly
Categories:
mopes, funny, humor, identity, silly,
Form:
Rhyme
Villanelle: Crooks leaders and louts do they sing the same tune
Crooks leaders and louts do they sing the same tune
Does he who strums vocal chords show them the ropes
Whoever wields the baton sure calls the tune
The sergeant-major pulls rank when opportune
Though captains and majors aren’t exactly dopes
Crooks leaders and louts do they sing the same tune
To the Western ear the Eastern’s mono-tune
Do harps and harpsichords belong in same groups
Whoever wields the baton sure calls the tune
Do the Police join the band to play to tribune
Or just one or two here and there simply mopes
Crooks leaders and louts do they sing the same tune
Blame must fall if blame at all on top dog goon
The mess people in power make envelopes
Whoever wields the baton sure calls the tune
The blame for this world the way it has been sewn
Goes for whatever makes possible human dopes
Crooks leaders and louts do they sing the same tune
Whoever wields the baton sure calls the tune
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2015
Categories:
mopes, betrayal, leadership, power, ,
Form:
Villanelle
Dreams of treasures and material things
Cause us to heed the loud voice of reason
While true dreams – the ones with gentle wings
Enchant the heart with love for a season
Hope alive with bright hue who sweetly sings
Sighing soft on winds of faith that breeze in
The New Year resolves whisper to my soul
Assuring that my life has a good goal
Some resolutions are based on lost hopes
Visions from within that fill hearts with grace
Mourning follows the assurance who mopes
Warming the secret thoughts with an embrace
Showing ideas on how the heart copes
Making aware of the ways we can face
The New Year with resolutions assured
Sentimental thoughts sought to be endured
Brilliant wishes color hearts with splendor
Vivid emotions murmur with kindness
Vision paves the way for the contender
Passions encourage sweet refinedness
Breathes of light capture all who surrender
Yearning for those who don’t have a blindness
The New Year pledges often bring a peace
Since much past grief we finally release
Isaiah 43:19
King James Version
Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall ye not know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert
Categories:
mopes, celebration, new year, new
Form:
Ottava rima
I spoke with two people at the party Saturday.
A young police officer, short-haired, fit,
chiseled face who had two young children.
He felt constrained by the law, without discretion
to question mopes (perps) aggressively
or to let go those who were obviously no threat.
Even at a family function he seemed straight-backed, correct,
devoted to his role as our protector (and his children’s)
yet I thought perhaps too deeply in debt, indentured
to the rules and laws of legislators and destined
to be disappointed (or worse). I thought his courage
and devotion (to whom or what?) would surely
be poorly repaid and that this lesson
was necessary to ready him with wisdom
for death or further living. I worried like a brother
about the unpredictable dangers, even terrors,
he must daily face, and the pleasure he takes in facing them.
How will he return to the fragility of family,
of the soul alone, after wielding the force
of the state, the blind, combined will of us all?
Next a business exec, retired from a well known
global investment firm. At first we talked about
the lush beauty of the northeast compared to the arid west
(although he loves every inch of the west, too).
Then somehow we got beyond light conversation
when he complained about the perceived decline in values
for instance how the Ten Commandments can’t be publicly
displayed. He said we can all agree on God
but I said I have a mechanistic view of the universe
(although the unknowable always sits just out of reach
of the known). I told him my dad’s theory of reincarnation,
a good man and a corporate seeker of God also, whose shoes
I could never fill unless I swore belief in a supreme being.
No hard feelings. Then he told me the story
of his dying friend, an atheist, not even a deist
like the founding fathers, who opened his eyes for the last time
to correct the exec’s misperception that now he’d meet his maker.
Having exceeded the bounds of acceptable conversation
I went looking for my children. Nothing more to question.
Categories:
mopes, brother, children, courage, death,
Form:
Free verse
This Christmas is going to be very special to me,
I have the girl possibly my bride to be.
I refuse to give her nothing but my all,
I love how she throws the snowball.
I love every moment it makes me feel like I can fly,
I will love her till the day I die.
I want to hold her tight,
I want to hold her by my tree with all my might.
I love you so much I feel I can cry this you should know,
Take my hand Larissa Angelica please don’t ever let go.
There’s nothing I want more then Christmas you’re at my door,
You make me so happy you give me something to live for.
I will cry with you I will protect you I will die for you,
It’s Christmas the world is yours that’s what I want to do.
Christmas is usually about gifts, family, & friends,
You are the only one I need as my heart mends.
I always remember what its like to look at your gorgeous smile,
It makes my heart melt & go wild.
I pray which is rare for me,
I pray forever this love will be.
I hate to make wishes & other hopes,
Except this is too special I refuse to be the one who mopes.
I tend to be seen as lost in my faith possibly the end,
Although don’t completely count out it returning once again.
You in my life makes me a believer in some way,
Wearing a cross or Christ head could be today.
It’s scary with the thought of losing my best Christmas gift ever,
On my side the idea of leaving you I say never.
I feel you deep inside I see you & feel great,
Your smile to me is definitely bait.
This year I don’t need to see what’s under the tree with greed,
I already have everything I could ever want & need.
Categories:
mopes, dedication, girlfriend-boyfriend, holiday, lovechristmas,
Form:
Rhyme
with the tilt of the head,
and a heart so heavy...
he sits on the floor of his home,
thinking every moment about his capital levy...
for there are days,
with nothing to pass the time,
the god himself is staying so long,
and the dryness has dried the pond's slime...
the particles of the dust ready to enter the skin,
with the skin showcasing designer patches,
they never bothered playing in the dust,
roaming around with the deep itchy scratches...
there's no fire,
not a dime for the mere matchstick,
the dampness is breaking the strength,
And so is breaking the house's every brick…
still, they live, they live like mopes,
carrying a soul, with the least of their hopes,
for they believe, a chariot might come to take everyone in their house,
until then they will wait, and they will not let their flames douse…
Categories:
mopes, children, funeral, god, poverty,
Form:
Rhyme
Apart apart from the land of dreams
And the wish that once redeems
Apart apart from the center of hopes
Let the breeze takes it and mopes
Apart apart from a selfish soul
Teaching the heart to lurch and stroll
Apart apart from an endless pain
That inebriates you like champagne
Apart apart from a heavenly maid
Whose beauty masks the masquerade
Apart apart from an hour of joy
Which turns to be your deploy
Categories:
mopes, depression
Form:
Couplet
Eternally Lovely now,
The Bride of my Dream of Gold.
And rolling down grassy slopes,
Whose smiling heart ne’er grew old.
Eternally Helpful, too
The Braid in my burgeoned beard
That round my loquacity ropes
And sees that I’m rightly reared.
Eternally wise and kind,
The Bread of His Life and strength
The Child of the King of Hopes
The Lifeline of endless length.
She rides through the ethers now
E’er calling forth clouds of snow
The crying child, helps, as he copes
Wherever his troubles may go.
And so, I have finished my tale,
Except the Divinest part
The poor fool who grumps and mopes,
She JOLTS by her Heavenly Art!
Categories:
mopes, angel, blessing, funny, happy,
Form:
Rhyme
we invited her into our home
she settled in and stayed
that’s simply how the two of us
a threesome we became
it was him me and that other woman
still never a dispute or cross word
the plan was to be the three of us for good
but one day suddenly gone he was
never to return he left us to our own devices
me with the other woman all alone
she shared our daily life
privy to intimate deep secrets
she got so close I’m not surprised she mopes
and I catch her on occasion shed a tear
it sure is different now without him
she keeps her distance and I keep mine
she’s off real quiet in her own world
and that’s just fine with me
but I know she misses him as much as I
at times to keep the peace
and break the silence
as loud as loud can be
I’ll call out clear across the room
‘Alexa, good morning…’ and
politely all's forgotten
she tells me to have a great day
AP: Honorable Mention 2021
Submitted on June 20, 2021 for contest ALL YOURS (JUN 22) sponsored by BRIAN STRAND
Originally posted on February 8, 2021
Categories:
mopes, friendship, lost love, relationship,
Form:
Free verse