Best Problem Poems
"When returning love, becomes to Late"
Fantastic,
From her eyes
His name the name
She mumbles silently
3 rivers, 3 years, 2 many tears
She loves him endlessly
Sending her soul
A free feeling,
Finally, he fell
Engaging, equal to the spell
Morning, mountains and more
Move across a new age moon
His heart happily
Traveling towards hers
Dashing dandy, onto her dinner plate
Too long she waited,
She's not hungry, her heart self healed
3 rivers 3 years 2 late
Her tears faded his rusty name
SKAT
Problem Solving 101
Written: by Miracle Man
12-16-2019
When I allow a problem to defeat me today,
It continues to occupy my time tomorrow.
Ignoring a problem just increases its stay,
Which often leads to heartache and sorrow.
The preponderance of a problem that may exist,
Psychologically influences my solution.
No matter the size it shouldn’t be dismissed,
Through prayer and searching comes resolution.
Philippians 4:13
I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.
i am a possibility
of many possibilities
i am a ratio
an indecisive factor
in the rest of what this dimension has to offer
the world is a top
i spin it and predict the probability
that the end will equal the means
or perhaps surpass it
even if i never surpass this muck-up
these broken eardrums
and the inquisition of my empty head exclaiming empty words
and i don't even exist
especially to the solipsists, nihilists
and i no longer give a sh--
i am now officially some lazy apathetic prick
oh i could have been a possibility
but that possibility was so small
that you'd need a magnifying glass
and some tweezers
i am rust, oxified and tearing up
i am crust, the sh-- in the ring on the toilet
i am lust, but never just enough
i am bust
i am a loser without a leash and/or choke chain
Once there was a famous king,
More famous than Ozymandias.
His name was King Wolf.
Sultan was his nickname.
He called himself a benevolent despot;
And his style of government
A ‘democratic dictatorship.’
He spoke good English—
A foreign language, though;
Only a minor problem with 'l' and 'r':
Once, for instance, a reporter asked him,
"What about elections, Your Majesty?"
His response:
"Why, I have them everyday!"
The poor reporter was thoroughly confused.
His kingdom was a land of superlatives:
The oldest civilization,
The largest standing army,
The largest population,
The largest exporter—of people,
The largest emitter of carbon dioxide,
Now the second largest exporter of goods, too,
And will soon be the largest.
Since his was the most populous kingdom,
Demography was his obsession,
Which he called his specialization.
Of course, Sultan had tried his best
To check population growth—
By means of family planning.
It didn't work.
So he curbed people’s Right to have children.
But still there was a huge difference
Between the optimum number
And ground reality!
Therefore, Sultan hatched a wonderful plan:
Started a war with a friendly neighbour.
Every section of twenty soldiers in his army
Had just one primitive rifle between them:
If a soldier went on,
He would be shot.
If he went back,
Again, he would be shot.
A Catch-22!
Many of his men were slaughtered.
But still Sultan won—by sheer numbers!
Oh, God!
But the King did not believe in God.
Like king, like people!
But the dead soldiers were only a small number.
So, now another plan:
Government is the boss.
Let people overwork.
Sultan cracked the whip.
And a number of people died—
Of overwork, year after year.
Further reduction in population.
Production increased:
Cheap goods flooded the world market:
From PCs to push-up bras.
No warranty.
The economy boomed.
Ah, his kingdom became a Big Power!
But once some workers gathered
In the Capital and protested—
Against exploitation.
The name of Karl Marx was in the air.
“Listen,” Sultan roared, “Marx died—
Long ago.
So should you—now,
For raising his name in vain.”
So, still further reduction in population!
Now, when this narrative ended,
Sultan was busy, planning for another war.
Poor soul!
How else could he solve the problem—
Of overpopulation?!
***
What can two hydrogen; one oxygen be,
here’s a really good hint, it makes up the sea.
so now we should know,
water is H2O.
Now let us work this out; what is K9P?
Stepping Over The Problem
I make my bed
on the street
Curled in a doorway
under your feet
You step over me
we're unlikely to meet
I'm covered in newspaper
sometimes a plastic sheet
trying to hold onto warmth
just a small amount of heat
Kelowna's councillors
they are so wise
They vote to shield
your delicate eyes
But where should we go
can't they hear our cries
Who will help them change perception
so they realize
they too one day
might fall on hard times
Then they might hope
a different logic applies
Instead vote on solutions
We too want a home
Do they think this is our first choice
sleeping in a doorway all alone
Can't they see we want food and comfort
or have their hearts turned to stone
Instead they'll equip a ticket giver
with a dumbphone
Because a few groan
Saying they don't feel safe
as I inconveniently suffer and moan.
Maybe next time
When you walk down the street
It will only be rich people you'll meet
I won't be sitting with a cup
begging for something to eat
the sad face you couldn't see
from your mind erased
Everything will seem perfect
nothing out of place
Or perhaps if you really cared
I'd have a proper place to sleep
with a bed and roof
and yes a bit of precious heat.
In response to Kelowna Council's decision to ban the homeless from sleeping on the streets.
Communication has gotten erratic,
there's a lot of outside interference
Aluminum yawning creates constant static
I can't hear you ... can you hear me?
Stonewalls separate us,
frequent bathroom stalls
breaks the mood, flushes the trust
How did this happen to us?
I'd be the first to admit, we have a problem
Calling Houston, code red: Alpha, delta, sand, fox
Our love has become stale,
left unattended for too long in the marital breadbox
Inaction is squeezing the life out of us
Anaconda divorce sounds fatal
Alpha, delta, sand, fox ---
Our marriage is falling at terminal velocity,
time is speeding up on the self-destruct clock
We have a serious problem, dear
Do you hear me talking, tell me you can hear
We have us a critical problem,
and we both need to try and figure it out,
time is ticking down on the self-destruct clock
We have a big problem here
Calling Houston, code red:
Alpha, delta, sand, fox
Anaconda divorce sounds fatal
Alpha, delta, sand, fox
We're headed for a crash landing
Calling Houston, code red:
Alpha, delta, sand, fox
This marriage is almost dead
Alpha, delta, sand, fox
Unless we find the missing answers in the black box
“Send me a pic,” he sent with a smile,
“Share what you’re hiding away.
You’re a beautiful girl, not like the rest,
And you’re never ever even afraid.”
“Hmm, let me think, can I really trust you?”
She replied as quick as she could,
“Sure you can,” he sent, quick as a flash,
“My intentions are all really good.”
So she slipped off her top, behind a locked door,
And numbly stood all alone,
And sent this guy, a photo of her,
Her confused body standing at home,
And this is their life, for new teenage years,
Pleasure removed from the dance,
Intimacy gone, replaced with an image,
Nude selfies replacing romance.
Our world be amiss, is without love’s kiss
love’s way is narrow, hard for mind to find
sacred heart is bliss, has narrow’s love’s kiss
pray the world will awake, from the mind’s fake…
Love is absolute, the mind gives not a toot
says let us prop it up, lets us lust sup
authoritatively assumes love’s loom
like a night Loon whistling it’s gooney tune…
You say what’s the answer to world’s problem
it is caused by concepts of mind’s cobbling
ever you listen, when love offers kissing
am I brother’s keeper, precept deeper…
Concepts assuming love precept’s power
this be world’s problem, `tis the mind’s goblin.
Life system is love, must come from above
and by the sacred heart, love must depart…
Precept is absolute, `tis mind’s keeper
keeper of imaginations weaker!
Where shall it end, at precept love’s begin!
Many be of the world, death’s reverse swirl…
Mind’s concepts bestow the worldly logic
sacred hearts bestow Spirit love’s logic
when mind assumes paranormal project
mind still tries to use it’s worldly logic…
First connect the mind to the heart, then start
paranormal armor, your love’s karma
love the absolute, mind is a lust coot
cares not for moral, loves strife of quarrels…
My answer to world’s problem is simple
concepts have become festering pimples
are separate and apart from love’s kind
mind’s problems of love would align in time…
Keep our concepts, all those devils in line
or our concept devils will forever whine
accusing our brothers of sins intertwine
brothers are fine, it’s our concepts that’s lyin…
God bless our darling hearts and inept minds
let us search within reigns of sacred hearts
bringing the two together, birds of feather
let precept love reign, twill end concept’s pain!!
Something is wrong with this site.
I cannot submit any poems because
the category is not working properly.
I tried to check off two categories,
and neither one would register.
Is anyone else having this problem?
The little thrill as the wave’s ripple in
Making the hairs stand up, on the surface of my skin.
The kiss of the sun with its warm breath so light
As it soothes my skin with warmth and delight.
The sand rolls around where my hands touch it soft.
The water rolls back and forth carrying pebbles aloft.
Setting shells down with rolling grains of sand
Making minute rivers run from the fingers of my hand.
The blue of the sky so pale and so pretty
On the horizon I can see the outline of the city.
Birds bob on by walking in the sand,
Not caring that I’m there lying on their land.
Curiously watching me, little eyes darting here and there
Watching for what, I don’t know or care.
A tiny emerald green beetle scuttles on past
Taking no notice of me, but from the birds, rushes on fast.
The sun is setting; it’s time to go back
The tide has come in but it needs to get back
The coastguard come out and asks so polite
Please can you move, the tide needs to leave tonight.
You have laid there so long, blocking the way
Can you please go back - so the water can flow away?
The ships need to sail and the trawlers come in
But you are blocking the way as you are not that thin.
Hunger is worldwide; I don't understand why
Trash cans are filled with untouched food
Starvation is real; why must another die?
We can feed the homeless from our food supply;
Or help food banks, it can brighten their mood,
Hunger is worldwide; I don't understand why.
Wasting food is a major issue, we mustn't deny,
We should help if we can and stop being rude
Starvation is real; why must another die?
It's affecting us all; do you hear the earth’s cry?
Not just a “them” problem, I must conclude
Hunger is worldwide; I don't understand why.
We fill our belly with everything that we buy,
And see someone in need and are often shrewd
Starvation is real; why must another die?
Restaurant plates have a ton of uneaten food; sigh,
Our waste can be a lifeline to the homeless dude.
Hunger is worldwide; I don’t understand why,
Starvation is real; why must another die?
Three celestial bodies 'tis a crowd.
A trinity, a tussle kerfuffle if you please!
The 'three body problem' in space
made Sir Isaac Newton's head ache.
He couldn't sleep at night.
For its easy to see how two bodies interact.
They're a couple
Adding the third one
makes a terrible three, a triad triumvirate.
No one can predict how they will interact
with each other.
Can three tango?
Can you ever really know what
the other one is doing while
you are watching the other one at the time?
It's sneaky what the un-watched
can do behind your back,
in the corner of your eye!
For when three converge,
each longing for an equal share,
on the stage, under the bright lights,
all sense of unity fades into a fractured affair
and a terrible selfish chaotic fight.
But nevertheless, despite all this,
a threesome can be kinky!
There is a hammer on my keyboard
Taking me hostage
Reminding me of something I wanted to do
Yesterday but did not get around to it
I stare at it, and glare at it,
Angry beyond belief.
That I kept saying I wanted to
hang those sixty-five canvases,
and yet, there they are, not one hung up.
The mean hammer has been
Thrown across the room now,
It no longer bothers us,
My gloating keyboard and me.
By Elton Camp
I read about it almost every day
Make ’em complicated, they say
Symbols, numbers make it strong
One all of letters is risky and wrong
But that can cause me to have a fit
Because later, I can’t remember it
Then to see, I have to expect
“Your password is incorrect”
Thus, I plan to do that no more
My password will remain 1234