Best Pair Of Scissors Poems
Two swigs of tequilla
Strawberry Daiquri
A pair of scissors
Some anger
Pain
Emptiness
An arm and a leg
Meke a good time
For shedding some blood
Tears anyone?
Breaths feel cool
Taste rebelious.
Categories:
pair of scissors, peace,
Form:
Free verse
It was the first day of first grade I met her,
I used to love to pull her ponytail.
Whenever I tried to speak my words would slur,
my plan to get her attention was an utter fail.
It was the first day of first grade I met him,
he used to pull my hair and stick out his tongue.
One day I saw a pair of scissors and decided that his hair needed a trim,
we were lucky to find true love so young.
By sixth grade I was finally able to speak,
I told her she was beautiful in front of her best friend.
At recess she loved to play games of hide and seek,
I despised all of the mixed signals she would send.
By sixth grade I decided I had a crush.
He called me beautiful and I ran away,
I told him that we were too young and did not need to rush.
I wish that I could rewind time back to that magical day.
The clock struck senior year and I asked her to prom,
she must not have felt the same way.
She told me she would let me know as she reapplied her cherry lip balm,
I never heard from her so I went with my friend Sharpay.
The clock struck senior year and he asked me to prom.
My thrilled heart almost leapt out of my chest,
stupid me had to play it cool applying my cherry lip balm.
I sent him a text but he never responded; that night I could not bare to rest.
Ten years later, I now know that true love is only a silly myth.
Now married to Sharpay; bonded after she borrowed my phone the night before prom.
Wonder why never heard back from the woman still hopelessly in love with,
I still dream about tasting her cherry lip balm.
Ten years later, I now know that true love is only a silly myth.
If only I did not play it cool; I should have told him how I truly felt,
I would have been with the charming man I always knew I should be with,
I dream about our destined lips meeting; it makes my demolished heart melt.
July 11, 2018
An Incomplete Love Story Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Faraz Ajmal
2nd Place
Categories:
pair of scissors, fate, heartbreak, i love
Form:
Free verse
I am cleaning out my junk drawer
It's been on my list to do
My junk is over-flowing
It's now long past over-due
Inside is my collection
Of things I sometimes use
Bits and nails and thumbtacks
And a dozen odd-size screws
There's a hammer and some pliers
And a pair of worn-out snips
Rubber bands in many sizes
And a load of paper clips
Two broken pair of glasses
That I should have thrown away
I put them there three years ago
Swore I'd fix them both one day
A dull blade pair of scissors
And an un-used long nail file
Pens and pencils and two note pads
And an eraser, look-like crocodile
I keep finding things inside my drawer
That I swear I've never used
This junk has left me addle-pated
Oh my God, I'm so...(((CONFUSED)))
'Form J- Just Write Me A New Poem' Poetry Contest
Sponsor Constance La France
3/22/2022
Categories:
pair of scissors, change, confusion,
Form:
Rhyme
Mona Lisa why?
Mona Lisa loves sunshine
Rather, speechlessly cries… Why!?
See her left side’s show?
A scared girl’s face through window?!
With her straight blond hair does stroll?
Looking at the sky!?
Where darkness swivels to shine!
Strangely with enormous fright!!
Weirdly, heaven’s daze!?
Scares children as in chess mate!?
Gazing speechless and in vain!?
There’s lunar eclipse?
Behind her right sad eye’s wink
Over a dancer’s hybrid!
See her right thumb seems
A barge or a submarine
Off the cost line drifted in!?
See her right pinky?
Blistered for testing hot sea
Yet does not yelp for any!?
What was she thinking?
Was she hypnotized quickly?
Or shocked with painful heckling?
Tilt her to her right
Her right shoulder shows might
When the Red Sea slides inside!
Tilt her down to six
See the Black Sea draining its
River down curly stream quick?!
See the small bright dots?
Planets aligning below her smock
Attending all featured folk!?
Carefully look at!!!
Away from your face one foot far!!!
Get a pair of scissors and…
Exhume her upside
Down composure for a while!
Could a nail asteroid breach bile!!!
Until mudslides fill
In the huge gap as though it
Looks like collider’s strange zit!!!
Splits the atmosphere
As if dividing soil beneath
Dazzling earth was once believed!!
Carefully just glimpse!!!
See a comet passing quick!!
Or an edge of a ringlet!!
Does not slap the earth
For heaven’s and saints’ dear sake
Drifted slowly by strong faith!!
Tilt to quarter till
Volcano Mountain leaks gas!
Shown under her sliced thin chin
Lava slides down hill?!
When snow covers the land’s bin
In Mediterranean’s fin!
cont...
Categories:
pair of scissors, artsea, sea,
Form:
Choka
The lives I impact are numerous
we don't see the ripples of water that rupture other peoples days
even the tiniest action can deteriorate a mountain
We wonder and whisper hypothesis but we forget about how inanimate objects feel
Assuming they don't matter is a like a solecism
except instead of one's grammar they are misguiding in their character
We prick and peel the faux layers of what is right
and decide to consume and assume the our complex little earth doesn't matter anymore
We lose respect for everyday objects forget how they appeared
The wonder and work dispersed executive plans that are created
every crayon, carton, and container as we forget to take care of them
but do we truly forget or is the value of a pair of scissors like a person without health insurance
We can't just buy another person
Our words cost money
Not real numbers
our emotional immune system
Some people's are large banks of water and other's yield shallow and weak desperate for a drop of grace
The plentiful feelings we crave are as fragile as your grandmothers china
Emotional Depression is the same as being poor
In Mind and Spirit that bottles your feelings
of negative money that delays all healing
Everything has a name no matter how big or small we decide and choose and domineer over them all
There is no sense to call a certain object its name for we conformed to how the world wants it to be
Do we not have a choice in words or a choice in what something is
The pressures of society forces us to cope and comply with every alibi they throw like a baseball game with only splitters
a life without change is full of quitters.
Categories:
pair of scissors, angst, health, humanity, pain,
Form:
Free verse
A teapot has a wonderful wingspan of over five centimetres but a button for a shirt has incredible wings measuring sixty eight point nine metres. This was sure to upset teapot who rather fancied itself as being the largest wing in the house. Blatant blaring belligerence brings big heads. And a chauvinistic chatting charging caped cauliflower sings whilst on horseback whilst waving a large opaque pair of patterns tights. The passing pockets grin. And the integrity of an integer was integral to internally investigate ironic irksome ilk. It is unwise to wear such a floral outfit when mopping the lawn. Mopping the lawn should only ever be done in a space suit. And mopping lawns can only occur after firstly cutting the lawn with a pair of scissors. Paper scissors or baby scissors. No bigger for the grass blades will attack back against shearing. They do not appreciate hair cuts and hair cuts are neither heated headed hallways and nor are they mispronounced adjectives weaving in and out of a sentence when the sentence is moving and talking. Quite rude. One should listen to sentences. But adjectives don't they either abstain or are aggressive. This is not a pattern to prune a pin bush? Ha a fly is calling on a currant to play on a toboggan. Ha the entire end of annexed antelope is lifting five feet overhanging a bridge. Xxxxx hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia arriving at ten past three. And llanfairpwyllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndt obwyll-llantysiliogogogoch..... Big z then. Yes. Z
Categories:
pair of scissors, animal, basketball,
Form:
I use my hand to write poems that will convince you that my soul has been bleeding from start to end. But this may be a poem for those who think I've been writing from the heart.
What makes it okay?
What makes it okay to bow for our souls when they cling to the pregnant clouds of tears and fears?
This is just me maybe running out of ways to numb this pain by reading old books with coffee stains and nothing makes it okay.
But the coffee stains are the reason I'm uncomfortably wake at three A.M trying to cover the holes I opened with the knife but the blood wasn't mine; it never was.
What makes it okay to see temptation in a blade, knife, or a pair of scissors? It's the fact that it's not my life I'll be taking. Maybe it's only now you see that the "be careful" note I left on your doorstep wasn't just one of my dramatic moves. You better be wearing two left shoes.
What makes it okay to know we're not happier?
What makes it okay to hide the misery with a smile?
It's me; I'm willing to go the extra mile just as long as you stay behind; I just want to make sure it's safe.
What made it okay for me to call you at 3AM in the morning telling myself I've had enough of this sadness. Followed by your voice telling me "everything's going to be fine and maybe it's that time of the month" and no "it's not me; it's you." what makes it okay? I do.
I've always had that "go for it" vibe hidden inside me I'd ask you to find it but I'd be uncomfortable.
What makes it okay to cling to a cloud?
That's probably the hardest **** I've ever had to do. After closing the toothpaste cap; I mean that **** is kind of hard to remember. Like replacing the toilet paper roll; i repeat that **** is hard; literally. That's why the toilet paper needs to be replaced.
What makes it okay for me to judge you without having to hear your pain and bleed for you? I'll take the blame any day; just make sure I'm going to be okay when I come back to you every night asking for day light.
I mean girl; the sun sets; why won't you.?
the sun rises; why won't you?
clouds move; why won't you?
What makes it okay to put bravery to test? You do.
Categories:
pair of scissors, anxiety, deep, depression, emotions,
Form:
Marsiya
ROCK PAPER SCISSORS
I heard that somewhere in India they say ‘stone paper scissor’
And my bible says they stoned James to death,
I am hoping I am not to be stoned, for what I would say
And I pray the Angels may ‘bear me up in their hands, lest I dash mine feet against a stone’
In life we face these three stages, rock paper scissors
And in each of these three their two opposite outcomes
Either you cry or celebrate, regardless of your will
But it all start with a thought
Once thought life is a fantasy, follow suit, the legends did it this way
They suffered the consequences and here they lay
If you get that piece of paper, you are guaranteed of heaven
Out of the blue you are cut out of the list
Like you are the paper, life becomes your scissor
She was a beauty, like an angel walking on earth
Just before she could say a word she bites her lips and does the slow blink
And the calm wind swindles her rubies dress, her name was Perth
John charges himself to woe not to bethink
And like a pair of scissors, malfunctioning, he was crushed
Like a rock she never shed
When he was a kid, he had a dream about being a rock star
In those fancy clothes he would bling
Like them at the top with a cigar
But as they do, they left him raveling
Scavenging the poor him to skinless
Suffocating in a paper, breathless
Falling rock like a meteor
Categories:
pair of scissors, motivation,
Form:
Free verse
Based on something said in a Jimmy Swaggart sermon...a tale of too late
Looking for that liar who sold my soul for sin
Taking a treasure chest of Godly wisdom and casting it to the wind
Break and bend...bruise and bleed until divinity gets bled dry
Now ten thousand times a day I ask myself why?
Why was I so eager and easily led so far astray?
Just like a mindless fool I followed a mad fiend straight into doomsday
Desires they led to dead ends
Dead ends to devastation
Devastation into death
Now I just can't switch the station
Another soul lost in the static
Another face frowns in the fire
I examine everyone I see as I'm looking for that liar
I hear screams down in the smoke
I hears moans of misery
Lustful lips they all surround and seek to swallow me
My mission still before me...eyes fixed on eternity
Like radio waves inside my head and radiation in my heart
I should have seen the warning signs to slow myself and stop
Consequences on the clock...the countdown still continues
I get heated with the hatred as I grab another head of hair
My hope is getting higher as I keep looking for that liar
Soon I see a pulpit and a puppet suspended above by 1000 strings
Now a demon with a giant pair of scissors cuts those cords and makes him scream
As he falls into the flames I recognize his viscous voice
And he's crying and complaining to a God that he betrayed
And the sheep that shepherd slaughtered now eat his flesh 4ever
I'm standing in the longest of lines to get my portion of that pie
Still looking for that liar...cause down here death never dies
Categories:
pair of scissors, hurt,
Form:
Blank verse
There is nothing more gladdening
Than sorrow at parting-leaving the villege
Though my loosening mat i'll miss
No more owl or the snake hiss
In the jungle greenery resides
Thatches on our house cools the ray
Of the sun like a pair of scissors
Cutting the blanket of dawn from the sky
Such sorrow is;that i shall say goodbye
yet,i smell a happier tommorrow-off to the city
Categories:
pair of scissors, adventure, happiness, hope,
Form:
Monorhyme
Your presence is like a thin fabric
That I wear here and now with comfort
Unveiled through each breath I take
My eyesight like a pair of scissors,
Slices through with each blink you mirror
An ordinary day becomes a day in the life
Through the ripples of your touch
I drop into your devotion
Your tide carries me beyond sensation
With words in affectionate thought
I connect to your illusive soul
To the unknown source of your magic
A single breath away..
Our irrational fears desensitised
Subtly, you help me face the long years
Our heartbeats synchronised
I retire never having learnt your secret
And we disappear harmoniously into the past
26-12-2015
Thabang J. Ngoma
Categories:
pair of scissors, devotion,
Form:
Lyric
A flea in a bag is not akin to a farmers market on a window sill but wide angled mirrors breathe many a basket bomb into a woven template if a footstool. Perching by a bathroom crevasse one ponders the many insecurities of a passing flying snail. For to shell is not to show. And shelter is decorated in a mindfully placed swirl. Bracket not a bucket. And brake no gear. It is an impossible wonder of a mile long coin that enters the golden highway at a junction aforementioned in a style magazine. Oh fabulous the floors will be nice and clean today for the mops are arriving in great multitude on many landing strips of lino,carpet, and laminate flooring too. A pretty cat sighs. For intrusive interrupted snoozing is not pleasant for a snoring meow. But mowing an eleven acre lawn is best performed with a five centimetre pair of scissors. Hahahahah silvery shrouds seeking secrecy hahahahaha moon painted boil xxxxx fastidiousness Z
Categories:
pair of scissors, beautiful,
Form:
The vines are taking over,
Unstoppable at their rate,
Like monsters in the graveyard,
Or something from outer space,
Green with sticky suckers,
Grabbing all insight,
Don’t venture down that pathway,
They lurk there in the night
Wrapping around your body,
Strangled is your fate,
They beckon as they call you,
To stop your circulate,
With telepathic thought waves,
The cemetery a quiet place,
So if you’re very curious,
And want to take the chase,
Chance your luck one evening,
But I suggest you up your pace,
Don’t hang around them gravestones,
They'll bind you in that place,
But just in case you’re helpless,
Alone for goodness sake,
Take a pair of scissors,
Kill the suckers lace.
27/09/2016
For contest Broken Wings
Overgrown with vines
Categories:
pair of scissors, poems,
Form:
Rhyme
There is a feeling
There is a feeling
There is a feeling
In the air
I havent seen you in ages
I didnt know you're contageous
Now I wake up every morning
feeling poisoned-
So I took a pair of scissors
And I cut you out my pictures
And I know this sounds rediculous
But I dont wanna catch your sickness
There is a feeling
There is a feeling
There is a feeling
In the air
I got this feeling
I cant explain
But I sure can complain
I was fine
until you came
Now I'll never be the same
Who am I kidding
I need you more than living
Im unwillingly willing
Im unwillingly willing
There is a feeling
There is a feeling
There is a feeling
In the air
Now I'm caught in your vortex
love stricken disease
I'm a bit perplexed
I dont want no one to save me
You're pulling me in and
You're pulling me in and
I'm unwillingly willing
I'm unwillingly willing
There is a feeling
There is a feeling
There is a feeling
In the air
You're the object
of my desire
You're the arson
that set my heart on fire
*it's about how love can change your life even though you hate change.
Categories:
pair of scissors, love,
Form:
Lyric
Taxes are not talking nor are they taxis. But airports are often very congested. Packed tightly forming queues. Vastly unreported by news. News are neatly arranged newts in a bath licking ice cream. And a single melt of globular sploosh is merely an unwelcome loss. So washing becomes very dextrous in beckoning an eroded surface. Bubbles can form at will from depths of over fifty five feet. Whereupon a steely coloured beast of old will rise to take on even the mightiest of modern weaponry. When travelling in herds step left right left rigidly and always steer to the centre. Cinematic viewpoints of pathways filled with the patterned stardust trails. Break no saucepan in a rage. And cage no plant. It is to be said that at this time the potency of a banana sandwich with jam can run at great athletic speed over a basin drop. So always drag a meal to a ballroom. With chains. It is also wise and often imperative to shield eyes with cups and harness the knives,forks,and spoons. So as to avoid the high fluted champagne glasses who can be very nasty if crossed. Particularly if wearing a nine million pound gown. Sweep no lawn for lawns must be mown with a one centimetre pair of scissors. Many blades. Long time cutting. And dangling off the central high way at midnight is a feat only achieved by a very large circular bat. Pinnacles painting prisons playing political polo parties. And jester moments from the east and west ignite laughter and cheers from birth and south. So far heard by the eleventh moon many miles away. Air current velocity then. In a bowl. Chatting to a ladle about the state the potatoes are arranged in. It us simply not done. Unheard of in fact. To chop and place potatoes next to carrot and cabbage when all must surely know by now that this is unsafe as they simply do not get along together and therefore the soup will taste most sour. Dour diaries digging digital downloaded dreams. And a large portion of porridge in a mist on the horizon. Skipping. Hahahaha face of a thoughtful tissue. Hahaha exclamations exciting existential exotic experiences explicitly. Hahaha rotunda rotating rut. Xxxxx numerology Z that was the latest from the p y q reporting from a morning zoo next to a nice sty. Z cvb jackets Z.
Categories:
pair of scissors, baseball, basketball, beach,
Form: