Best Outguess Poems
She begged me to meet her in the park;
knowing that I would never decline.
But it is now past midnight, after
swearing she'd be no later than nine.
Trying to understand her is like
trying to light a damp cigarette.
The more anxious that I am to try,
the more frustrating my attempts get.
Her excuses are nonsensical,
silly, and bordering on insane.
And I've stopped trying to outguess her,
for she employs both pleasure and pain.
She is a genuine conundrum,
a scheming vixen who leaves me vexed.
And in the end, I have little choice
but to shake my head, feeling perplexed.
I do digress
Am I a mess
I must confess
So much duress
Sometimes suppress
I must profess
Take no bs
And will outguess
How hard to press
It will transgress
When I regress
I do depress
My minds undress
That my willingness
Is the forgiveness
Of my hopelessness
If I impress
Will I egress
Or to ingress
How do I guess
The move in chess
Will I say yes
Or what to bless
And to process
My own distress
Do I oppress
Or use finesse
Should I caress
Maybe to assess
And to access
The true bareness
With my princess
In her nightdress
She does possess
A true largesse
She is noblesse
A son named jess
In her sundress
A true success
Almost fluoresce
I won’t compress
How she does dress
Or set her tress
Does so impress
Do I obsess
Wear my headdress
Also wardress
Will I progress
In my broadness
Used my clothespress
Tried a winepress
Then to repress
Had to redress
Ate watercress
Changed a shirtdress
I am no less
I will express
Not to excess
Won’t do unless
Drain the abscess
To what address
I will egress
At my recess
I have no stress
Sophie Dog is excited beyond belief
No idea what she has heard, but she is barking like crazy
Sometimes a large truck puts her into this kind of frenzy
The way she runs up the driveway, I am expecting to see
Dracula with a mountain lion chaser, coming to bite my neck
She is gone an extra long time, too long. I start to worry
But she comes running onto the porch from the opposite direction
So I know she has run around the house, and maybe further.
She is by herself. She growls at Shark K. Cat for putting her claws on the glass door.
A motorcycle buzzes up the road. Usually this puts her into berserk mode.
It does not today. She starts drinking water like a colt that has never had a drink.
A Mack truck goes by, and she ignores it too. I cannot outguess this dog today.
She spent her life trying to please,
Trying to outguess,
Tiptoeing around his bad moods,
Trying not to make him mad,
Trying to make him happy,
Trying to make things better
Because he’d had a rough start.
Because she loved him.
Because she cared.
“He says,” and “He thinks,” she would say.
But what do you think? We would ask her.
“He thinks I think,” she would respond.
“But what do you think?”
The feelings she had were not her own.
They were his.
She had spent her life giving all.
In the end she had a beautiful casket with pink lining.
“What do you think?” I asked her daughter. “Would she like it?”
“I don’t know,” she replied. “Ask my dad.”
“How are you doing?” I asked her.
“She’s fine,” he replied.
She looked away,
Out the window.
Possibly thinking?
She tried to outguess me. Thought she knew me.
She was an irritant like a tsetse fly.
I ran from her.
Glad I only see her every five years.
Finally realized I am not obligated to attend class reunions.
With a roomful of people I do not recognize
And have nothing in common with except for former locale.
Detectives solving crimes
Flashing their badges
Canvassing neighborhoods
Questioning potential witnesses
Explaining the forensics
Showing us how to taint a crime scene
Explaining blood spatter patterns
I sit in my chair trying to outguess them
Feeling smug, proud of myself,
Professional Lazy-boy detective.
Should I please her or me?
Should I try to outguess her wishes and maybe miss the mark?
If I called, would she be honest anyway? She never was.
Would she tell me what she thinks I want her to say? Probably...
Spring break is right around the corner.
I could go visit and sleep on their couch, pushing her old dog off.
My flatulence filling their living room in the morning,
Embarrassing her prissiness, amusing the dog, maybe.
Or I could stay here, write my poetry, paint my pictures,
Relax, and not visit at all. She left me, remember?
I have been apologizing for her misbehaviors since I was eight.
What do I know of her anyway? My teachers despised her.
They kept prodding me, wanting more details.
I was the only kindergartener they knew whose mother had run off
With her minister, a man of God. Oh, please!
I will stay here and paint. Saving myself. She does not care anyway.
True love does not include an apology every minute
Without any means of improvement
True love is putting yourself out there
Trying to outguess what your partner needs
Giving your all to help them be the best they can be
Love is cuddling, and hand holding.
Love is a pat on the shoulder,
Love is please and thank you
True love is found after a deep friendship has been established
True love occurs after you share a history
True love happens during times of sorrow
When your hands brush or you share a heartfelt smile.
True love is the best medicine in the world.
True love is wanting your love to have whatever they need
True love is encouraging,
True love is optimistic
True love is generous and hopeful and kind
True love includes a faith the other person loves you too
Written 11-28-2019
Contest: Love Me Like You Mean It
Sponsor: Julie Leigh Rodeheaver
Poetry is moody, she can be pouty and sad.
She can be vibrant, dancing the chicken dance.
I allow her freedom to be herself.
It does me no good to feel I am the boss.
Poetry is a chameleon. He is flexible.
He wakes me up in the night with an end rhyme.
What the heck!
Poetry is a teaser.
Poetry is not just a he or a she.
They is also a we, an us, a them, collaborating.
Going off in directions I could not outguess.
Doing what I never knew they could do.
Poetry slides onto a page with loops and whorls.
Laughing at my consternation.
Taking me totally unserious.
Poetry does not listen.
Sometimes I have this weird feeling I am in charge.
Poetry laughs
Pokes fun at me
Smacks me upside the head
Flies out the window with a hamster on her back.
Reminding me who is in charge.
I am the ocean, wet and mysterious
Mercurial, flexible, changeable, a chameleon
People cannot outguess me
My imagination follows a jet stream
I am a kaleidescope of colors,
orange, red, green, yellow, blue, violet, indigo
You cannot catch me; I am invincible and confident
I can barely keep up with myself
I am a tree hugger, a child lover
I am a cartoonist, painter, poet, story teller
I am hopeful and optimistic
I am an egg, sunny side up.
Their love was pure until it wasn’t.
She kept thinking it was her fault.
If she could just outguess him, things could be lovely again.
She tried to dress the right way, say the right things,
keep silent when he wanted silence,
She tamped down her natural charm, because it annoyed him now.
She became almost invisible, so things might work out
So they could go back to the “happily ever after” love she sought
She became hypervigilant, outguessing his moods.
The more compliant and obedient she became,
the angrier prince charming seemed to be.
His disparaging comments and pouty ways began dictating her behaviors.
Two unhappy people, in a union that only one wanted to save
Sadly, eventually involved three frightened children
Who learned to be hypervigilant and silent like their mother.
if your partner has to be mollified and pacified
If he pouts and makes fun of you unless you out-guess him
If being around him makes you feel like you are tiptoeing around glass
If you spend your days trying to outguess his angry moods
If you have been isolated from your family and friends
If everything you do or say has to be careful and deliberate
in order to not receive his wrath, and his disdain
know that you can do better.
And you should.
Great Aunt Maude had a bejeweled flair
With red and blue rhinestones in her hair
Black fluffy coat resembling grizzly bear
We could never outguess what she would wear
Her glitzy outfits were worn with care
Silver sequined gowns, shoulders often bare
She entices old men on the town square
All could easily be lured to her lair.
Other ensembles could never compare
Her collars glistening with fluffy hare
Other women enjoy newest cookware
Great Aunt Maude dressed exotic as Cher
She has not bathed for a week or two
Those pajamas have been on her at least six days
She complains of aches and pains
Moaning she has no friends
Listless, lifeless, and lethargic
Her parents are beyond worried
There is a knock on the door
A friend enters
“Let’s go party!”
Their sloth of a daughter turns into a carnival ride
Leaves twenty minutes later bursting with energy
Wearing a sequin dress, high heels, combed hair and lipstick
You cannot outguess a fifteen-year-old daughter
I have to constantly outguess, outrun and outfox
Because I am their mother said my crunchy cereal box
This mystified me; I was blank, wordless at best
I read her advertisements again, thinking this was a test.