Best Pestering Poems
Oh for pity's sake put some clothes on,
the bracing air will steal your breath..
and I need you to stand and stay strong.
Cold comfort thrills from your chill touch
help me recall why I adore you so...
A chin of the ages rests on my shoulder in sweet affection,
two arms encircle my world in every direction.
Redtail hawk riding a thermal looks down..
what caught its gaze I wonder..
Will the day lend a hand through a pestering cloud,
or roll its eyes in thunder?
Such a fine firebrand you've stoked,
as I shave my face and call your bluff.,
Wishing the once would last forever..
though once was more than enough.
Categories:
pestering, allusion, journey, love, magic,
Form:
Rhyme
There's a pesky mosquito hoverin' around our ears
If he keeps it up he'll soon be splattered in smears
T-Buzz tries to draw our blood
When he gets hit with a THUD!
We'll celebrate his demise with a party ~ Cheers!
by Lin Lane
A mini vampire with wings,
in annoying high notes he sings.
Tries to fly incognito,
this imp called mosquito.
With blood thirsty appetite stings!
by Carol Connell
That darn mozzie was buzzing like hell
Til I sprayed him with a can of Repell
He can no longer fly
I watched that mozzie die
I’m happy he’s gone – you can tell!
by Jan Allison
That skeeter was in for a thumpin'.
I swatted, but he just kept jumpin'.
I got out the spray,
winked, said, “Come my way”.
And now I'm no longer a-grumpin'
by Dale G. Cozart
There's a pesky bug upon the lawn
One his mother should have never spawn
making noises here and there
wish he'd just disappear
One big ol' zap and poof he's gone
by Tim Smith
T-Buzz flies around in pestering irritation
One good swat'll take care of his elimation
No more buzzin' sound
He's garbage can bound
Thank goodness there's no reincarnation
by Marti Sutherland
I was singing karaoke, acapella
While eating a sandwich of mortadella
Along came a mosquito
Named Little Esposito
I smacked him cuz he wasn't a nice fella
By Mystic Rose
A skeeter singing for a favor
Was wanting blood for a caper
He's playing with fire
His future is dire
Joining others on my wallpaper
By Cheryl Hoffman
A mosquito was buzzing loud
Of his bugle, he felt so proud
My hands would squash fast
That buzz would be his last
Soon, he'd be covered with a shroud
by Jo Daniel
If anyone dislikes the buzzing of a mosquito, join in the collaboration by sending me your lines in a SOUP MAIL.
Categories:
pestering, humorous, insect,
Form:
Limerick
My muse keeps pestering like a cenobite,
chewing my brain like a hungry parasite.
Pressuring the ink to bleed like acid rain,
catharsis to release perpetual pain.
Hiding poems that live rent free like boarders,
I'm a shadow slave refusing it's orders.
This elusive euphoria sounds absurd,
because I'm silent in my clandestine world.
My pen has froze in this salacious summer,
ignoring mental murderous moon's mummer.
My faithful muse, why don't you abandon me,
can't you see I have no time for poetry.
I've fallen free without words, feeling too deep,
please do not disturb me, I just want to sleep.
Categories:
pestering, muse,
Form:
Masnavi
Haunting Memories
The Safety Zone
It feels like I have wind chimes in my feet
The tingling feeling is that intense
Pins and needles keep pestering me
But obedience is my best defense
Every single step is a painful memory
Of the childhood I never got to see
Walking on glass eggshells metaphorically
Watching my feet continually bleed
Too young to understand what was happening
So obediently I tried to be brave
Every night I had to cry myself to sleep
I hadn't even lived yet but wished for my grave
Punishment handed out like it was an offering
Like my pain was some sort of sadistic prize
Hiding away in the backyard that covered me
Holding my breath and closing my eyes
bmdavey@05/18/16
Categories:
pestering, child abuse, dark, deep,
Form:
Quatrain
I go by myself walking
I hear myself talking;
Then as I deliberate
On the direction of fate
That leaves me so anxious
With illusions atrocious
Invading my privacy
With the blight of absurdity.
They come there unbidden
Like troubles forbidden;
Showing their faces
In my secret places;
Peevish and fractious
Mindless and anxious
Blighting the laughter
With deeds that come after.
Trying to taunt me
To follow and haunt me.
In my mind they come festering
In my ears they are pestering
That my enemies are treacherous
My friends are ominous
And my life is dangerous.
The calamitous confusions
Bring perfidious allusions
Deceptions so diabolical
Fears that are comical
And all these do vex me
With nightmares to perplex me
While Satan sits amused
Knowing I am confused.
Categories:
pestering, confusion,
Form:
Rhyme
We seine them up
like dust
in pollen-stained hands,
briefly weight them,
balancing them in minds,
determining worth,
profundity.
And like those before,
we toss them absently
into wind—
winnowing maple seeds—
whirling them from us—
as we shape lives,
change destinies.
Now,
they seem to flit
to nothingness,
like us—
pale night insects
pestering
opal moons,
infestations of night
thickly settling
on the liquid glass
of our tongues.
Categories:
pestering, angst, art, imagination, life,
Form:
Free verse
“Soon”, I said, knowing probably never;
“Maybe later, after it’s way better weather”.
“Stop bugging me - I said, soon,” are the words I repeated,
“After you give me the five minutes of peace that I’ve needed!”
Not one minute passes and they’re asking again,
“Ask one more time and it’s never, my friend!”
I should never have mentioned the possibility,
That all of the kids could someday go there with me.
“I don’t know how soon soon is – it might be today;
It could be in a month or a good year away.”
“But one thing is sure, it will never arrive,
If you keep on pestering - on that, please rely.”
“So think of something else that all of you can do
Instead of asking that stupid question every minute or two.”
“As soon as soon finally gets here I’ll let you all know
And no sooner than that will be the day that we go.”
“So that word you keep asking, which I will not repeat,
Won’t get soon here sooner – so the ask, please delete.”
They walked away sad, with a slink and a mope,
But without asking again – for an entire day, I can hope.
And as soon as they give up on it ever arriving -
Soon will arrive and there we’ll be driving.
Categories:
pestering, funny, lifeme,
Form:
Couplet
Dear Santa, will you make my dream come true?
Although a little costly it may be,
I still believe there’s nothing you can’t do.
So could you please provide a cruise for me?
I’m not too picky. Any cruise is fun.
However, there’s a plan I wish to hatch.
It has to be a cruise with everyone
who matters most to me, so that’s the catch!
To take a cruise is easy, but whether
my sisters, spouse, grown kids, best friends and mom
could somehow at the same time come together
would prove quite hard, yet it would be the bomb!
I know that it’s a lot to ask because
a little naughty this past year I was!
A little naughty this past year I was.
I told my friend unneccessary things,
but no one gets me like a best friend does,
and so few share the comfort each one brings
me when I’m feeling down, and there are days
I blab too much. I fear I’m pestering
good friends who must endure my whiny ways.
Releasing woes, I stop their festering!
I’m also lazy, for I hate to do
my housework. I would rather watch tv,
and there are projects I do not get through,
for I’m online or writing poetry!
Dear Santa, is my naughtiness too bad?
At least I try not to make people sad.
At least I try not to make people sad.
I try to always live the Golden Rule.
I don’t go out and follow every fad.
I think I do good working at the school.
I simply want a cruise with family
and also with best friends online I’ve met.
I’ve made great friends through poetry, you see,
but face to face we have not talked as yet.
To eat, see shows, do kareoke, dance,
and tour with those most precious, one and all,
would be a dream! I have but this one chance.
Is this an order, Santa, much too tall?
I’d love this cruise. My life it would renew!
Dear Santa, will you make my dream come true?
Dec. 27, 2017 for Phillip Garcia's "From Your Lips To Santa's Ears" Contest
(These are done like a min-crown of sonnets, which to me is much nicer
than having to write a lot more sonnets than three!)
Categories:
pestering, christmas, dream,
Form:
Sonnet
As you start to walk out on the way,
the way appears.- Rumi
Tonight, I speak to the moon,
lunar verses echoing the piercing
lyrics of an aching heart.
Its crystal wings softly
kiss the sea line in silence,
releasing silver ripples
of renaissance,
while the sun awaits another
dahlia dawn, graced by
delicate symphonies of
fairy-feathered fantasies.
Time is a treat ribboned
with truth and testaments
of melted monsoons,
left as souvenirs of the past,
on shimmering shores
of fragile flowers.
I was once a broken ballad,
bruised and battered
like an ornament left
on a haunted island,
where every breeze felt
like the seething sounds of sirens,
awakening demons within
my chrysalis psyche,
to cloud the horizon
painted with pigments of peace.
Trust was an ink blot
I spilled upon oceans
of blue-black pearls,
oblivious to the cracks
and faded glows of opalescence,
for I was a naive target
of narcissistic daggers,
caressing my skin with
pestering perceptions.
As I wore my wounds
like corsets crocheted
with crooked compassion,
too eager to embrace
wrathful winds~
bursting forth infernal flames,
while drenched in the
subtle dews of raging rain.
If I were to tell the world
the person I used to be,
could I write without
my fingers trembling,
without the weakened words
of weariness that weighed me down?
For I knew not what love was,
and I knew not
dreams of strength,
runes of resilience, or the
unbreakable gravity of forgiveness.
Yet I rise, beyond faceless ghosts,
soaring above nameless streets
of pointless thoughts.
I am now everything I was not;
I am both shadow and light,
seeking and waltzing to
the music of my own magical fight.
So remember,
the furs and claws,
the water and fire,
outlining the garnet~
aura of my ambient existence.
Categories:
pestering, deep,
Form:
Free verse
Sitting on a park bench
and taking in the sights,
she's always got an eye out
for the children, running
back and forth till they are wired,
then pestering their parents -
"Come on, Mom, we're not tired!"
They cluster all around her,
they call her 'Auntie Pearl,'
to listen to her stories of
when she was just a girl;
tales of pinafores and mittens,
lovely hats for Sunday best,
patent leather shoes and stockings,
turning out so smartly dressed!
There were picnics and fun times
out by the river when they'd walk
two miles or more learning their rhymes.
Riding in a carriage pulled by
horses up and down the street,
calling at a neighbour's house -
there'd always be a treat!
Taking presents to the homeless
the day after Christmas Day,
helping those who didn't have much
food to eat, or games to play.
She told them, "Listen to your folks,
try to grow up big and strong,
help others when you have the chance,
your lives will be full and long!"
One Saturday she didn't come to take
her usual seat. The kids all clamoured:
"Where's Aunt Pearl?" she made their day
complete. Moms said: "She's telling stories
to the angels now, it's true. She loves you all,
remember, she is watching over you."
Categories:
pestering, inspirational, day,
Form:
Narrative
Sitting on a park bench
and taking in the view,
she's always got an eye out
for the children, me and you,
pestering our parents
with a grumble or a pout.
We cluster all around her,
we call her 'Auntie Pearl,'
to listen to her stories of
when she was just a girl;
tales of pinafores and mittens,
lovely hats for Sunday best,
patent leather shoes and stockings,
turning out so smartly dressed!
There were picnics and fun times
down by the river when they'd walk
two miles or more learning their rhymes.
Riding in a carriage pulled by
horses up and down the street,
calling at a neighbour's house -
there'd always be a treat!
Taking presents to the homeless
the day after Christmas Day,
helping those who didn't have much
food to eat, or games to play.
She told us, "Listen to your folks
and grow up big and strong,
help others when you have the chance,
and greet them with a song."
One Saturday she didn't come to take her usual seat.
We kids all clamoured:"Where's Aunt Pearl?"
she made our day complete. Moms said:
"She's telling stories to the angels now, it's true.
She loves you all and she is watching over you."
Categories:
pestering, inspirationalday,
Form:
Verse
With a load of worries on your shoulders
You dolefully trudge on your path of life
Evading any ditches or impeding boulders
craving for a life free of stress and strife.
But then someone cuts right in front of you
Shoves his faith in your face and his views
And wouldn't let you be even on cue,
Sadly but the pestering just continues.
And for the fact, since the beginning of time
Priests and politicians have come and gone,
Yet mankind has kept on with his crime
So why not leave politics and religion alone?
That’s when I go crazy with a machete,
Hold me tight for I can’t stand steady,
Like to shred those goons like spaghetti...
Ha, I am shuddering with rage already!
~11/08/17
~Judgmental People and Haters
contest by Brenda Chiri
Categories:
pestering, crazy, desire,
Form:
Rhyme
This thing has buttons and a screen.
Today, it has been very mean.
Coming down here I now regret.
Nothing but promises I get.
It is always the same story.
Just one card away from glory.
Looks like I came up short again.
Jack, queen, king, ace, but there’s no ten.
This machine is pestering me.
No fours-of-a-kind do I see.
I’m putting in my hard-earned cash.
The cards I’m getting are all trash.
Getting even is a long way.
Won’t they give me a break today?
Bring me back and then I will leave.
This lousy luck I can’t believe!
Categories:
pestering, lossme,
Form:
Quatrain
The best love affair of my life
Was the time I spent with another man’s wife
You would be surprised to know it
For I never involved in flirting – never a bit
She isn’t my aunt , my sister , or my cousin
She isn’t all those pestering neighboury mausin
Or the ladies and sissies who are such a bother
She is my mother
I can say that she is a pure form of gold
Who held my hand for success till I became smartfully bold
She is the one who taught me to be brave
And asked me to pass through the door opportunities pave
She explained me to make my feminist wings to flutter
And made me to be like the united bread and butter
She warned me to never be the quitter
Hence I promised to be the silent shot putter
She is the six letter word
Who encouraged me with the ideals of life – the true sword
She was the one whom I first saw when I was born
And she was the face who smiled at mine when I cried like the musical gigs ****
Her pallu saved me from all kind of fears
Her soft glowing touch wiped off my tears
Her lap was the ideal place and was softer than cushions
Her shoulders were the warmest place than the lab of atomic fusions
Her sparkling eye spoke to me of the sun
Her sweet milk feeding spoke to me of the coconut bun
Her wise teachings were clear and wide like the big blue sky
Her cute angry face had sometimes made me to cry
Her single touch cured me of my wails and pains
Her lovely kiss showered me with honey rains
My heart had mingled with hers
And made me to write some of my kind letters
I can never end in a break-up
For she is my great boost up
I am forever debted to this great human
Who is just similar to the super human
I had a lovely ten month relationship with this lady
I will never be able to forget her who made me a successful caddie
As far as I can say she is an angel sent by god to the earth
Who made my life indeed worth
Respect your mom
For she is more than a beautiful farm
She is the true sculpture of love
And also the reflection of WOW
Categories:
pestering, love, mom, mother, mothers
Form:
Light Verse
With a load of worries on your shoulders
You dolefully trudge on your path of life,
Evading any ditches or stray boulders
Craving for a life free of stress and strife;
But then someone cuts right in front of you
and shoves his faith in your face and his views
And wouldn't leave you be even on cue,
Sadly the pestering just continues.
Ha, since before the beginning of time
Many seers and prophets have come and gone,
Yet mankind has kept with the sins and crime—
Why not leave religion and God alone?
That’s when I just go mad as a hornet
And feel like gutting them with a hatchet!
"Mad as a hornet" contest by John lawless
Categories:
pestering, anger,
Form:
Sonnet