Best Oddest Poems
How did a cherry kiss? Bitter flower petals with sweet pistils.
So laden they act as halos while we breathe the love
in a pink hollow, silence sounding like taste, acting like epistle
to hold this moment in a silvery image, like moon, or dove
low, low, a bowl formed while sunshine flickers above.
Chains of yellow petals hang over our deck, the leaves hands--
offer welcome resting branch, our sheltered home.
Seeds follow close, fragile like beans, hard case to feed the land
crawl before God, they say, be grateful as we weed and stir loam.
Together seeds and flowers and hands make a life a poem.
Awaiting the sumac, the flame at summer's ending is fruitless
we've passed the feathering, the pimping of red underneath bristle
the deer horn softness crawling out in oddest places in a mess
lining the sand pond, above the purpled iris, the pestle
of stone and sun, no rain to bring down sumac's fiery trestle.
Vulturous crows squawk and fight the ring-billed sea gulls
waiting, one in the bared hollow hands of the cottonwood
the other fat-bellied and waddling after rain finally dulls
we're under hoodies, under shivers, our neighborhood
waits the pinking and mossing, will it unfurl new wood?
Drumming along on steering wheel
And dashboard, to rhythm and beats
8-track drowning out giddy squeals,
Till butts plopped down in venue seats.
The buzzing crowd was everywhere
All walks of life surely present,
Deluge of Tie-Dye and long Hair,
Smoke wafting thick, the oddest scent.
When all light vanished, cheers ensued
As silhouettes shuffled on stage,
Anticipation…all eyes glued,
Mind numbing sound, coming of age!
They’d rocked our years, and now this night
Fans singing each memorized word,
Dancing, laughter—our teenage rite
Of passage, forever conferred.
Ten thousand flames, begged one more song
Two mega hits offered instead;
Then bows before worshiping throng,
Ended the show, farewells widespread.
I am a white owl,
I listen to people’s scowl,
I turn a deaf ear to a drunk’s howl,
I don’t quench my thirst from your water bowl!
I come out at midnight,
So that, I don’t get to see you fight,
You can’t see my flight,
Still, I observe your helpless plight.
I am watchman of darkness,
I don’t get to share your happiness,
I am a wicked sorceress,
As I only watch your distress.
I am a great observer,
I am silent reporter,
I am a midnight dealer,
I am hopeless beggar
I weave proverbial satire,
I check your inner desire.
I am never the filler of your bread,
I am the hardest nut inside your chocolate,
My god is greater than your god,
I am the very pet owl of tribal god,
You can’t chain me on a rod,
I am the oddest of odds.
I often sit on your rooftop,
I observe the view from atop,
When clouds are my only neighbors,
I can inhale the sky’s odor.
I feel so small amid the sky-scrappers!
I can bring about good luck,
By sitting once on your rooftop,
I am emblem of wealth,
I value people’s sweats.
I am crusader of darkness,
I curse the conspirators,
I am pacifist minister,
I do betray the emperor!
Today, I am a wise owl of time,
I am wizkid of prime,
I am a bastard wisdom tooth,
You can’t take off from mouth,
I am a silent shout out!
I come out at night,
I eye people with my eyes,
I feel for those who can’t come out in daylight,
Every person has the right, to bask on sunlight.
No rule, no occupation can snatch their right.
I am your silent knight,
I am only observing your plight.
I stand naked by the mirror
Looking at myself
I look like ummm
Something off a dusty shelf
My ribs stick out
You could play them like a harp
And my eyes bulge out my head
Like a half squeezed Chihuahua pup
My legs they call them lucky
They like two fighting swords
I have the knack of amusing people
With them I even won awards
Now my wife is a total contrast
She’s short, fat and round
It takes me three hours to spread the fake tan
But she still comes out unevenly browned
Just the other day I thought
She threw the duvet over me
But when I opened one eye
I saw it was a crusty bikini
I love to watch her dressing
It makes me shake at the knees
I feel like grabbing a handful of ripples
And give them a gentle squeeze
Driving the car is a challenge
Her ripples stop me changing the gear
And when we walk down the street
We look like a shield with a skinny spear
But to her I’m her half finished pepperoni
To me she’s my fluffy bread bun
We always do things together
I’m telling you, we have so much fun
And now I would like to announce
The arrival of baby number seven
We may seem like the oddest couple
But it’s a match made in heaven.
When I first laid eyes on him, he was alone.
So very solitary, he was but a stone,
just lying there as if he had been thrown
carelessly to nothingness, a rock that had never shone.
A gem he could not be! He was the oddest thing I’d ever known.
A strange and simple stone beneath a barren tree -
a tree which offered no relief of a leafy canopy.
He’d lain there so long where there was no bird’s melody,
and since he had no eyes, there was nothing for him to see.
I bent and picked him up – this stone upon dry ground.
I took him with me, and I showed him all around!
Slowly I was cracking open this rock that made no sound.
In time, I noticed from inside him there emerged the sweetest glow.
I’d pierced the stone’s hard core like the arrow from a bow!
From what he used to be, the stone has now come far!
What he came to be for me I had never been foreshown.
But with some time and patience, I guessed the remedy.
How to open up the stone was the solution that I found.
In my cracking him, rare beauty I have come to know,
for inside the stone was waiting to be born – a shining star!
Feb. 22, 2018 for Gregory Barden's"MINUANETTA Contest using rhyme scheme
of (at least) AAAAA, BBBB, CCC, DD, E, ABCDE. It must have a least this many lines, (20)
Theme is "CHREMAMORPHISM"
My friend let me share with you,
the secret of what I do,
It really is a mystery,
I have no clue is the truth you see?
It just happens to me.
I ask many questions,
I don't pretend to know,
of what's so familiar it makes
my heart glow. It just is.
From lifetimes ago.
I have a story of what it might be.
Floats around in my head,
demands attention from me.
Compelled to write an
arrangement on life.
Hearing the language
of what's behind my eyes.
But I don't know why.
I love all the same,
everything about this crazy game.
I'm fortunate and grateful to hear,
Another voice in the Wind out there.
Even if understanding's not clear.
It feels quite right,
like the warmth of a light,
Like the smell of a fresh spring day.
I'm in love with it,
when it comes my way.
A mystery this voice in me,
as puzzles are shown to my eyes.
And I don't know why….
But to my own surprise….
Sometimes I try and it's not quite right.
Sometimes I don't and then it takes flight,
and it's right….and a quiet write into light...
but I don't know why.
Just a glimpse you see… it's the oddest part
of the secret me.
Feigned love cut you deep,
left your heart bleeding profusely
Blood red, rose-colored stains,
drip, drip, dripping trail leading out the door ...
time to mop up this mess of a relationship
Wring all the tears into the bucket,
flush it out of the system ... get clean again
Can't let hate infection set in,
your fragile heart has to mend
Stunned by the deliberate stab,
a betrayal of a lover's trust
It hurt even more
when a twist came with the thrust
No one ever told you that pain
would be a derivative of the pleasure game
In your weakened state,
delirious passions swirl in your mind
Flashing images of past sated desires ...
you moan feverishly in the night
Love withdrawal has such a narcotic bite
And time doesn't heal the wound quite properly,
you're left with scar tissue on the soul
Touch it gently with your mind,
and feel the oddest sensation ... like phantom arousal
It sickens you that you feel pleasure
from neural memories
of when your two bodies pressed together as one
It frightens you that you still have these type of feelings
for someone who merely regarded you as a sex toy
Then cast you aside,
and tried to kill your soul and steal your joy
You must face your fears;
the thing you desired so, almost was the death of you
But you lived on with a scarred soul,
and much wisdom gained:
from disfigurement, your true beauty now shines through
If heaven is our home
the cosmic realm
where we come from
and return
this would mean…
that by default…
our life here on earth
is actually us
deciding to
take a break
from heaven
now…
is it just me
or
is that not
the oddest
most mindblowing
concept
you ever heard
AP: 2nd place 2021
Here come the lions, tigers and bears, oh, my.
I get closer to my mate, feeling we’ll die.
What was this family thinking? Was he sick in the head?
Why was his wife walking around, no fear of being dead?
My mate smiled at me. It is more than okay, he said.
I have a good feeling that we’ll be safe and well fed.
We were in this creaky leaky thing for many cycles of the moon
And the lions, tigers, and bears all stayed on their side of the room.
There was a magical feeling about these days, for sure.
Every animal was quiet, silent, in awe, feeling pure.
The birds fluttered around and twitted and twilled.
This boat ride was a mission by God, fully filled.
We were in shock when we landed one day with a bump
All exited without a maiming or killing, no one did jump.
The oddest most cosmic time in the world, if you ask me
When all animals were quiet, and let others be.
Now that he's without him
what is he working for
He had never truly realized
His dad drove him to want more
With working came acceptance
replaced emotions he concedes
and his father unavailable,
he kept his schedule filled with deeds,
When his father passed away
it broke him to the core
just learning he and his dad
had things in common they stood for
His dad had loved unconditionally,
despite his character flaws
and perhaps was thinking he'd call his son
when the winter thaws
but winters came and went
and neither reached to call
yet they truly loved each other
despite their voices being awol
His imperfect life with his Dad,
is now the oddest gift he treasures
He's vowed to be a father
for his sons to proudly measure
He says "I love you" to his kids,
and has being saying so for many years
then thinks of what he missed
with his Dad,
and it reduces him to tears
Nothing can make that emptiness go
he carries the lesson learned
Knowing now to speak his love out loud
not said to be returned
When a son loses his father
a part of himself fades into the light
as do the words he rarely stated,
like, "Dad, nice to hear from you tonight"
or picking up the phone to say,
"hi dad, did you just hear",
are calls he wished he'd made
while he wipes away a tear,
Now in a prayer he says, "I love you Dad",
to the heavens he kneels and pleads
and wonders if his fathers knows
that his love's so strong, it bleeds
"Dad, in case you didn't know it,
I love you more than I can say
I always tell my kids I love them
I learned that the hard way,
and in my heart,
my father,
you shall always stay".
Life is confusing sometimes
At least it has been for me
I was Mom’s “change of life” baby
two siblings far older
change in the birth certificate
three days spent as Marilyn
then I became Carolyn
not many toys in our city home
so I started jumping off things
graduated from steps to trees
then my preference changed to roofs
fearless always, perhaps foolishly so
but I sensed my limitations
at three I was standing on my head
spinning like a top
ran faster, jumped higher
than boys on my block
walked tall on stilts
bounced on my pogo-stick around the block
hid my frog “Pierre” in the garage
acrobat lessons for eight years (Hurray!)
but Mom wanted to make a lady of me
ballet didn’t change this tomboy
went to the state spelling championship
but at age 12, I couldn’t spell “murmur”
and the oddest books I read as a child:
“Lincoln the Unknown”
“How to Stop Worrying and Start Living”
Jacque Cousteau’s “Silent World”
traded my pig tails for mini skirts
cheerleading for the high school football team
still love the sport today
recruited by the ice hockey coach
to teach boys how to skate backward
recruited by the boys’ gymnastics coach
to flip and vault as team members scowled
captain of my college speech and debate team
first freshman to win the Peace Oratory contest
judged by Princeton University professors
writing has supported me all of my life
from high school to the present
first a copywriter, then a journalist
humorous verse is my favorite
some family members say I’m a “wit”
They’re only half right :D
*October 18, 2014 by Carolyn Devonshire
Friends, I’ve got a flu now and hope to be well enough
to return comments soon.
One or two of us
Were home on leave;
For the rest of us,
Christmas came by mail.
Our callsign: Gunslingers.
Our Military Transition Team
Was embedded with
The "Triple Deuce" Iraqi Infantry,
For a year our home
Was LSA Diamondback
Mosul, Nineveh province,
In northern Iraq
A Team member's wife
Gave us all Santa hats.
I have an old photo
Of us standing on top
Of an old Iraqi bunker,
Bearing pistols, rifles,
And those Santa hats.
My wife sent a small
Plastic Christmas tree,
Which was decorated
In the Gunslingers' office.
My mom sent a warm quilt.
When you're acclimatized
To wearing battle armor
In the high 90s and 100s,
80-something feels cold!
I remember the nights--
Dark, but full of stars,
With Orion's belt
On the horizon.
Soldiers made bonfires
In the oddest places:
By a concrete shelter,
Or in classified burn pits.
Once exiting my office,
I saw a fire in the sky.
Soldiers were on top of a bunker
Drinking near-beer, singing.
Another night, I stood
Just outside of the light
Looking at some troops,
And the chiaroscuro image.
I went back to my "choo",
And penciled the scene.
To complete the masterpiece,
I inserted myself
Roasting marshmallos.
I went back to visit them,
Showed them the drawing,
Then completed the picture
By searing a marshmallow.
Christmas was what we made of it.
It all started with a bet
Inside a launderette
Over a cigarette
With a brunette
I hadn’t yet met
Her name was Marie-Antoinette
As she said it she did a pirouette
And wow what a silhouette
Coquette she wore an amulet
Feared nothing short of a bayonet
Forgot the laundry it was still wet
I got hungry and craved an omelet
Asked M-A to join me in my Corvette
Drove to the closest luncheonette
Ordered baguette and anisette
We talked right until the sun set
She showed me a statuette
She dreamt of a trip to Tibet
So we jumped on a jumbo jet
Me her and the rest of the jetset
Across the aisle was the oddest duet
He played the clarinet she the castanet
While Marie-Antoinette rhymed the alphabet
Dancing and waving with a serviette
Try and imagine this strange vignette
Marie-Antoinette Marie-Antoinette
Forever in her debt
Not so easy to forget
I only have one regret
I left Marie-Antoinette back in Tibet
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Old Paddy went to the pub dressed in green
The oddest sight the boys had ever seen
He wore thigh high hose
All covered in bows
Of cross dressing he was crowned this year's queen
Each spring in the Gulf Coast Panhandle
Seafood lovers attend a festival
Honoring the dark meat, oily mullet
That leaps into air shaped like a gullet
But the oddest part of this tradition
Is the mullet tossing competition
Both he-men and ladies take to the beach
To see how far their mullet toss will reach
So if you're beachcombing and see fish fly
Now you have insight to the reason why
A waste of fish? Yes, but fun’s had by all
And winners dance first at the mullet ball
When smoked, the mullet tastes best served with fries
But it’s cool to watch when it’s tossed and flies