Best My Own Style Poems
I'm rather hard to figure out
Not many really get what I'm about
I'd rather sit quietly than shout
I keep it real I'm not prone to pout
You might think me passive
Still I will act
when others are subdued by doubt
Somewhat serious
Yet prone to smile
Not ecstatic I have my own style
If you need comfort I'll stay with you a while
Don't expect much talking
I'm a listener on the emoticom dial
As a poet
I know the power of the word
In the end I like to hear and be heard
Like you I too have been burned
Within adversity there were things I learned
I am a dancer
Stepping out on pages
Quiet paper oragami cages
Traveling on thoughts
Floating through all my stages
Fast forward rewinding
Pausing at my distance
Like the Borg victims there is no resistance
I breathe my thoughts with a certain persistence
If you look at me
I might reflect you
Searching for answers
Seeing beyond dark corridors
To places bright blue
Perhaps you as well
Like me
are an enigma too!
Written April 8th.
10/21/2033
The serene sunset at my back.
The realization, I reached the top,
And, in completion, that was that.
The acceptance of my life as it is.
No bloody need to prove I was best.
Such divine completion, sans explanation.
The sun had gone, first star winked at me.
Soft, warm, winds rustled my wild hair
Of this poetic heroine, high on a hill!
Panagiota Romios
Poem 3
“In My Own Style”
An Evening with Poet friends
9/13/2023
Really, sharing fully is nothing new to me.
Just want all to dive in without a bit of hesitation.
Splashing like shiny, rainbowed fish and express
The rays-of our shiny, unique individuality.
I only wish, a few of us were in a room together.
You’d read us your divine, poetic creations.
Teas, lemon, coffees, and hors dourves….
No strangers, just caring, close poet friends.
You are invited to bring, fresh, baked sensations.
I will provide plaid throws, as the Autumn winds blow.
So bring your delicacies and unique poetry..
A poetry evening, where all shall be honored!
Declared winners and stunning sensations.
While the warmth of joyful, appreciation burns!
Panagiota Romios
Romios Poem#2
“In My Own Style”
I believe that at first
I had a thirst for word
As a child I’d create my own style
And make up words to popular songs
Especially when I wanted to sing along
But did not have the vocabulary at age two
By age six I was full of poetic bliss
But only pounding keys on my toy piano
Shouting made up songs as I’d go
Then on a whim of destiny
I became a victim of rape
But I had no word for it
I truly didn’t know what to say
I didn’t understand at age six
That it was a teen and I was just a kid
I saw blood and thought the cool aide
I drank had simply leaked from me
The pain and shame was like a bad dream
But I did not despair for music was there
Then at age seven ironically
A family member, my father began molesting me
This time after years I did speak
To my sixth grade teacher who intervened
But before I could find a way to tell
I used poetry and journalism to excel
My writing was not really the best
But it saved me non the less
So for me music and poetry
Are at the core of my salvation my peace
Years of fears tears and therapy
I am healed and better for it all
Thanks to God and a teacher
Who inspired me to talk.
Living my life on the Dole*,
Because my Mum told me so,
Interview at ‘McDonalds’, but that Tyrant told me "No!",
See, we're a family with pride,
Don't sell fries at super-size,
But where's the pride,
If I can't provide,
For my own style of life,
Spent my money from the *Brew,
On Irn-Bru**, I swear that’s true,
Dreary, damp & cold, This black hole, I call home,
Only 'joy' I get in life’s the 'stick' I use for X-BOX,
And I aint got a tumble dryer so I step with wet socks,
Work-shy, but money-hungry,
Flats cramp-sized & pretty ugly,
Arrogant guy,
Until I woke up and realised that no-one loves me.
Brain melts to slush, in this non-testing occasion,
‘Gain Work’ is a must, for a teenage Caucasian,
Nothing separating me,
From drug-addled Dads of three,
No payday,
Just giro day,
No jobs… great,
Keep trying mate,
No end in sight as unemployment rises,
Government gives you cash like they were handing out prizes,
Where’s my reason to go out & work? My motivation,
Its pleasing no-one now, this escalated situation,
Experience is something that you earn, not that you’re born with,
Inexperienced forever, if I don’t get employed quick,
I don't enjoy sitting on my broken couch for hours,
I'm your Friend with Benefits, can only wash with cold showers.
(*Common British phrases for Jobcentre or Jobseekers Allowance Benefit)
(**Famous Scottish soft drink mass produced around Britain)
Me myself and i
For I myself,
Believe in myself.
For I love to stand by the book shelf.
In order to read some nice stuff.
Yoruba is my lineage.
I’m seen by my image.
And am called by my real name.
Buying things, I buy not fake.
I aim to be among the greats.
For one of my saying, says,
“Pays to be popular than being famous’’
Cos, famous people could be no-torious.
People say am pretty shy
That a time, I wish to cry.
Cos, I know I do try
To hide that, am really shy.
I’m a Muslim,
For my religion is, Islam.
So, pock meat is an haraam.
But I’m free to dine on ram.
I wish to be a doctor
So that youngsters can see me as a mentor.
I love teaching as a Professor.
For all that are great, are my mentor.
People don’t really know me,
So, this is to tell who I be.
For I prefer being a Lewis’ base,
Than to be a bronsted’s base.
Ridwan is my real name.
Olyrid is just a nick name.
You better know before it’s too late,
For I involve not in a criminal case.
My advice for you in life is this:
Serve you GOD, when not in pains
For in good health a person fails,
But calling unto him when soaked in pains.
Olyrid4real,
Is my yahoo mail.
I’m dark, friendly and a little tall.
And all I love is winning soul.
For all I hate, is the “big boys” style.
Cos “sagging” is what they like.
For all I do, it’s my own style.
So if you like, you can be my type!
I didn't find PSoup,
no, PSoup found me
I was a poet from my birth,
just not the poet I could be
Before coming to PSoup,
I was a message poet with my own style;
the words I delivered
could make you sad, could make you smile
I could make you sit down,
I could make you dance
I could make you want to throw hands,
I could make you want to catch romance
I knew how to mix my words,
I knew how to adjunct nouns, adjectives and verbs
And heaven help the poor soul that got on my nerve
All that being said from the son of a poet king,
a true poet knows that he doesn't know everything
Before coming to PSoup,
in terms of poetic forms, I didn't have a clue,
I didn't have an inkling
Terza rima, what??!!
Sapphic stanza, who??!!
After coming to PSoup,
I found out there were so many
poetic forms I never knew
But this is the best tasting part of my unlearned fondue,
I got to sample some mighty fine poetry
from the minds and hearts of all of you
So many styles and variety:
haiku and senryu, sonnet and ballad,
choka and jeuju, villanelle and etheree
I truly thank PSoup,
It has broadened the stroke of my pen
I can now put my message
in whatever size bottle that words can get stuffed in
Why can’t I just be me?
Why should I care what people see
Voices say wear this, act like that
So what if I don’t integrate,
and not part of the pack
I have my own style and look
The cover, isn’t what’s always in the book
Sense of myself is mine to seek
Don’t think to back me into a corner
To categorise me, as if I’m weak
My method is my individuality
Don’t try and judge my mentality
I don’t need the fashions or trends to impress
It’s not up to you how I behave or dress
Uniqueness is what makes us grand
Why be part of the herd, dull and bland
We are the ones people will remember
Better to glow among coal like ember
Just accept me, instead of condemn
That being said, now, how do I tell them.
I'm just a silly little girl
Dreaming of a better world.
I smile when I hear a song I like.
I laugh when I watch a girl fight.
I'm not perfect. I'm only human.
When I have a bad day, I get moody and
Sometimes, I take it out on you.
But I do the best I can do.
I'm just a silly little girl
Dreaming of a better world.
I smile when I hear a song I like.
I laugh when I watch a girl fight.
I write too much, but I can't stop.
I refuse to pretend to be someone I'm not.
When I'm home alone, my favorite thing to do
Is turn up my radio, sing in my brush, and dance around the room.
I'm just a silly little girl
Dreaming of a better world.
I smile when I hear a song I like.
I laugh when I watch a girl fight.
I have a million different dreams.
I want to be a million things.
I need ten more lifetimes
To accomplish what I have in mind.
I'm just a silly little girl
Dreaming of a better world.
I smile when I hear a song I like.
I laugh when I watch a girl fight.
I sing too much and dance in the car.
My friends are my world and we usually go too far,
But we're just silly little kids who love to have fun.
We won't let your dark clouds cover our sun.
I'm just a silly little girl
Dreaming of a better world.
I smile when I hear a song I like.
I laugh when I watch a girl fight.
I wish I could change the problems I see,
But I'm just one person. I'm only me.
I'm still going to work and I will try,
But I need you to help me kiss these problems goodbye.
I'm just a silly little girl
Dreaming of a better world.
I smile when I hear a song I like.
I laugh when I watch a girl fight.
I'm the biggest dork you will ever meet.
I laugh too much and love to sleep.
I have my own style and I hate my hair.
If you don't like me, that's ok. I really don't care.
I'm just a silly little girl
Dreaming of a better world.
I smile when I hear a song I like.
I laugh when I watch a girl fight.
Looking at the view from the window,
I watch the cars as they pass on buy
The street lamps give a distant glow
Now brightening the darkened sky
Looking at the view from the outside
It has a whole different perspective
Especially if looking from the inside
Things they seem like their reflected
Looking at a view but way out of focus
I ask myself what it is I'm now seeing
Making up my own style of barnacles
But though looks they can be deceiving
A view from a completely different angle
Now that changes the whole dynamics
Different shapes, a square or a triangle
But I don't know much about physics
Iideas from others I wrote like sights and sounds
Idea came from seasons and ghost town poems I wrote
probably makes no sense but like I said in my dys of colour poem
the way my thoughts are made WRITTEN BY MYSELF DAVIDSCOTT FEB MARCH 2013
wishing round in my head while think of other things at time maybe reedit in future
im still working on something else called rems
Walks through the back yard
it is looking for some friends
so they can play cards.
Copyright © Cynthia Jones
May.27/2012
This is my own style of poetry.
8/25/17
From here to over yonder
Come hell or high water
Before, during and after the dog days of summer
Standing out like no other
Showing my true colors
No one I need to convince
I drink like a fish
Not a myth
Eversince
It's
Been hit
And miss
Holy s***
Good intent
Was always meant
So please excuse my french
Too many
Showing envy
Involved in a feeding frenzy
Going for broke
Won't
Be looked at as a joke
With my own style
Going to go the extra mile
In order to make it more worthwhile
A lot of people high on the hog
It's rather odd
Just like the concept of god
The mighty N.Y. Metropolitans
went down to defeat
A small matter compared to
the terrible tragedy in Nepal
But I think it still matters
The damn Yankees defeated them
I am from Brooklyn
where memories of the Brooklyn Dodgers
still resonate
and the sun shines down
on Keyspan Park
Home of the class A Brooklyn Cyclones
Whom I am going to see this year
and will enjoy thoroughly
I used conversational poetry here and my own style of verse. Also I used the technique of memory - remembering a novel I read about baseball and the tales told by my relatives about their memories of the game.
The snow falls outside
flakes are beautiful
I wonder if it will stay
going to get rain
sooner or later
supposed to get rain today.
Copyright © Cynthia Jones
Dec.19/2012
This is my own style of poetry.
Form:
i am only as good as the material i write
i only reflect on the wrongs and the rights
the ills of society the world as a whole
my chance to make a change
and achieve my goals
since poetry is a passion i love it to death
it's not for the fame nor is it 4 wealth
it's 4 my personal satisfaction 4 the world 2 enjoy
2 get things off my chest 2 play with like a toy
as i get better with time every line so intense
with every line that i write leaves you deeper in suspense
each day is something new off the top of my head
simply brilliant is the content of the poems u have read
this is freestyle poetry at least that's what i call it
my own style with a twist stayin true 2 my calling
the way i play with words i must say is so tight
so 2 all a good day and the happiest of nights