Best Really Weird Poems
Oh boy, she was gorgeous and I made mention of bed
She said she really liked me but she won’t until we’re wed
She often said there’s stuff that really ought to be discussed
But I could only think of getting hitched to quench my lust
We did it, we were spouses, and our first dance was real close
I thought that she would realise who wanted who the most
We left our guests to party and I hoped I would impress
And once we were alone I ripped apart her wedding dress
And that was when I wished that we had dallied before marriage
For there and then I found ‘her’ quite extensive undercarriage
‘She’ said, “Why don’t you try it out, I’m sure we will be fine.”
I said, “Why would I play with yours… when I could play with mine?”
Well, ‘she’ looked shocked and what she said caused all my toes to curl
‘She’ looked at me and muttered, “Oh! I thought you were a girl.”
I said, “Are you quite bonkers for you’re talking really weird,
I’m stood here and I’ve got a most extensive ginger beard!”
‘She’ sauntered to the bed and threw me down upon my back
And said, “I’ve got a gift for you and it is never slack.”
‘She’ nipped into the bathroom saying, “You can be the wife.”
‘She’ came back with a sexy smile… and a massive knife!
I once tried to burn Day Light
But found she was not flammable
So I decided to try Twi Light
Not a chance...Twi just laughed at me
and Day smirked, snickered and pointed
Which REALLY burned me up...
'Try burning Night Time,’ Twi suggested
(No way! Burn me once? Flame on you
Burn me twice? Flame on-on...ME I think)
‘There’s no need to be aflamed my man’
(Aw shucks...Thanks! Any chance y’all are sisters?)
‘Aw shucks...You’re welcome! Yep, Sisters of the Sun'
‘The Moon is a cousin but we don‘t stay in touch‘
(If it‘s not too personal, might I ask why?)
‘No heat! Also, He‘s been manipulating the tides
Sister Sun even threatened to burn His Dark Side'
(Did he relent and resume his proper orbit?)
‘HELL no! Now She’s confused and feeling the heat
As a result, we’re getting REALLY weird sunsets’
(Really? Well I’ll be a sun of a sunset!)
'SO, You wanna burn Night Time or what?’
(Yeah, but I’d prefer burning Day Light
There’s this contest on Poetry Soup
and the theme is Burning Daylight)
‘Nope, Night Time or go down in flames’
(Well, how shall I Set the Night on Fire?)
‘You’re plagiarizing...The Doors did that’
(Not familiar with that I’m afraid)
'Geez! Come On Baby Light My Fire??
Try to set the night on FIRE!! Got it?
(Ah...So I’ll be needing a Baby then
and how can a Baby light a fire anyway?)
'(Sigh) So here’s what you’re gonna need...
A flame thrower and some gasoline’
(Got it! I’m sure burned up about this!)
'Pssst...Sis, I’m certain he meant FIRED up’
*The consequences were devastating
I set a pine tree on fire in my yard
which of course, spread to the nearby forest
and then, to my utter shock and horror
the entire neighborhood was consumed!
Thankfully, everyone got out alive...
**Jail-time and numerous lawsuits followed
SOMEHOW, I managed to burn all my bridges
but didn’t quite make it off the last bridge
which really burned my ass...
Submitted for the contest 'Burning Daylight' sponsored by John Lawless
A really weird tradition’s
Known as Christmas in July.
There was Santa ho-ho-hoing,
Leaving me to wonder – why?
It was boiling hot and sunny
On the boardwalk by the beach
So the Yuletide decorations
Seemed a trifle out of reach.
Folks with bathing suits paraded
Past some carolers and “snow.”
Many seemed to catch the spirit –
For what reason, I don’t know.
Though it’s Scrooge-like to admit it,
There’s no reason I should lie;
I can tolerate December
But not Christmas in July.
I get spanked just about every day? I don't know why? I guess it is just natural for guys! I never see girls do it! Guys are really weird you have to admit it. There are many different types of spankings out there. There are punishment spankings, there are appreciation spankings and there a couple others out there that you teenagers know about. I could see it being appropriate at a young age as a punishment when getting spanked with a wooden spoon, or a paddle, or a board. Sometimes even a belt! But getting hit in the rear-end by another mans hand is just straight up weird. I don't get it! I'm sure a lot of you are on the same page as me. Especially you girls! What is the purpose of it? To say hi? Or just another way of giving a hi-five or saying good job? I mostly get spanked by my dads friends, my coaches, and my friends. And also a couple times by my parents when I was little as a punishment. I admit it, I spank my buddies every once in a while, but once I think about it, why did I? no reason. Exactly. Spanks on Spanks why do we Spank!
One last song for the wicked
One last song and a cigarette
I see you standing in the back
Forming a silhouette
One last song for the really weird
One last song and a big cigar
I see you dancing by yourself
Wondering who you are
One last song for the wild at heart
One last song for you my dear
I see you crying in the dark
Clinging to a beer
Wish you would dance like gods
Like the devil's at your heels
Show your partner all the moves
And tell the devil how it feels
Words are slowly entered into computer word processors
Words are slowly photocopied into ebooks as are magazines, newspapers
Disappearing into text messages, faxes, emails _
Soon every one will have to use an electronic device to reach words...
What if?___Satellites start to fall from the sky...
What if?___The satellites images fail; no longer reach earth?
What if?___Total black out from the satellites?
Will people be able to communicate with each other..
Or won't they have a clue as how to speak to their fellowman?
Just some really weird random thoughts that has been bouncing in my head__
You can't be serious!!!
This must be a joke
To consider this yahoo
This really weird bloke
It's all a big put on
I have to ass/u/me
You guys are surely outta
Your cotton pickin' tree
It's a real big gimmick
To generate interest
No one can convince me
It's good for business
It's just meant to liven up
A dreary campaign
This yahoo for President
That's totally insane
© Jack Ellison 2015
Apartment dwelling strangers
who never stop to talk,
don’t know the people living
a few doors down the block.
They nod hello while driving by
but never know my name,
somehow I get the feeling
it’s all a terrible shame.
Our insular existence
strikes me as really weird,
as if the nearby neighbor
is someone to be feared.
Co=dependent for nothing
without a single bond,
don’t know if he is fair or dark
a redhead or a blonde.
He has a noisy dog though
a mutt that barks all night,
I thought about complaining
but didn’t want to fight.
Who is this man I live near
this stranger with a dog.
can he be a big wheel
or just a minor cog?
Is he also curious
does he wonder about me,
or is he just concerned with
what is playing on TV?
Painful Angles; Hope gets strangled
New fangled fears forever dangled
Entangled dreams are mostly mangled
Demons wrestled then wearily wrangled
StrAngels chAngeled,
My sweet CocAinegeles!
Those cunning exchAngeles
Outlawed derAngeles...
Oh, ye kind Angels, give me Peace-
From your embrace, never released
Envelope me, and do not cease
Wrap me in your Golden Fleece!
Let me taste your silver blood,
And in my Heart, a joyous flood
Sprouting wings, a Soul to spring,
Like a flower to its bud
*Angel in Your Eyes Contest Entry
Author: JustThatArchaicPoet
(I know this is a really weird piece, but I wanted some form "angel" in a lot of the verses, even if it's a word like "Angle". I guess it's more experimental than anything and probably not what you're looking for.)
Trump Was A Stye In My Eye
Trump was a really weird type of guy;
He has become a big stye in my eye;
Sarah Huckabee,
You have to see;
They should disappear high in the sky.
Jim Horn
When I was yet in grade school, my teacher gave to me,
a task I thought most surely would be the death of me.
She ordered me to write a verse, in any style I chose,
I will tell you right up front that at her words I froze!
I thought long and hard on it, as any schoolgirl would,
still coming up with nothing did something no kid should.
There in my mother’s bedroom, stored on her bedside nook,
I found my dusty savior, ‘twas mama’s poem book!
I read until I found a poem anyone would think,
was ok, not quite perfect, one step above “what stinks.”
I began to jot it down, unaware what lay ahead,
she’d ne’er be the wiser as my pilfered poem was read.
As I wrote I altered words, for even I could see,
with just a couple changes, ‘twould sound the more like me.
The title seemed so boring, that I switched it as well,
now she’d think this poem was mine and say my work was swell!
Hot cheeked at her desk I stood, as her accusations flew,
suddenly, I don’t know why, my mouth began to move!
“This is really weird,” I lied, “as strange as it could be,
that this guy Mr. Kilmer would write so much like me!”
Sent home with a message, addressed to you know who,
it explained “our” little problem and what I’d have to do.
Red cheeked at the other end, I sat that very night,
when suddenly words emerged and I began to write!
Words floated onto paper, as I in anger vowed,
to write something much better than “trees whose heads are bowed.”
Mrs. Worth, though long gone now, I hope will somehow see,
how her dastardly assignment set my spirit free!
One thing to remember, should a harsh critique you read,
ignore what isn’t useful, accept that which you need,
never get discouraged if the kudos don’t come through,
‘cause even old Joyce Kilmer once had a bad review!
I think I’ll have a little tipple or two
I drink for me and a drink for you
We can start out carefully sipping slow
The night is young there’s a long time to go
After a few drinks things look different to us
We start to chat more coz it gives us a buzz
Talking away like there is no tomorrow
Not giving a damn and drowning our sorrow
Making decisions and making plans is ok
But you won’t remember them at all next day
Never mind it doesn’t matter at all just now
Tomorrow is another day anyhow
You stand up to go to the loo but hey
The table has moved to get in your way
You wobble a bit to steady yourself
You bang your head on the bookshelf
You return and refill the glasses again
This drink is great coz it’s hiding the pain
It is really weird when I look at you
Instead of one person I can see two
It seems so funny and I start to giggle
Oh I have to go now coz I need a tiggle
Off I trot to the loo I try not to fall
I steady myself and hold on to the wall
In a drunken haze we sit and slur
Everything seems to be one big blur
Next day it’s awful we have thick heads
We can’t seem to even get out of our beds
Drink is not the answer I feel so rough
I wish I knew when I’d had enough
Never again is what I always say
Until I feel better again the next day
I was drifting north, looking out for work,
found myself in Iowa, in Des Moines,
a polka band was holding a concert,
they needed roadies, so I thought I’d join.
The work was easy, just moving heavy things,
and helping local seniors to the show,
plentiful beer, a big floor to dance,
guess that’s how these things usually go.
But some brought college-age grandkids along,
they had a good time and messaged their friends,
more folk arrived, and then some hipsters
thought polka would be an ‘ironic’ trend.
They showed on up, the crowd overflowed,
it was then things would get really weird,
’cause unknown to us, some damn hipster fool
poured liquid ecstasy into the beer!
And all of them were drinking heavily,
seven thousand or more soon were high,
old and young, it didn’t matter much,
soon their clothing all began to fly!
The band stopped dead at the sight of it,
they’re never looked upon such a scene,
countless old bodies writhing about…
that’s not something you can ever unsee.
The band-leader begged for them to stop,
I swear that he pleaded just like the best,
but no power we had could stop the mass
of wrinkled hides and sagging…umh—skin.
The hipsters and young folk got mixed on in,
too altered to know who they lay with,
pale, pierced, and skinny, doing sorts of things
even loving gods would find hard to forgive.
Somebody must’ve called the police,
because when they threw open the hall door,
and in a stunned voiced asked people to stop,
the walls of bodies sent up a mad roar.
Seven thousand people reeking of sex
spilled out into the streets in a herd,
the cops wouldn’t shoot senior citizens,
though I heard a few winged them a hipster.
The mayor declared all should stay in their homes
as the mob flittered and frolicked about,
it was more a parade then a riot,
and strangely some even joined the crowd.
After two hours they had made their way
through the suburbs out to a cornfield,
the effects of the drug now wearing off,
the funny memories now seemed real...
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
Trump A Fruit Cake
Come on now and give me big break;
Trump has become a crazy fruit cake;
Around will crawl,
With hands small;
Favorite news he reads has been fake.
Jim Horn
Trump An Idiot
At times we think Trump is a total idiot;
He should only wear shoes which will fit;
As we feared;
Really weird;
An anonymous source said must admit.
Jim Horn
Trump Chip Off Big Block
Have heard Trump is chip off big block;
Everyone was found in a state of shock;
Many things he lacked;
Was declared cracked;
Dead body has been found under a dock.
Jim Horn
Autumn Is Like An Artist
Autumn is like an artist who is arrogant;
Had been handsome wherever he went;
When he was done,
Wrote another one;
For each of them he had God's consent.
Jim Horn
Penning in a poem when I am beginning,
And many more to write I am intending;
Have agreed;
Closely read;
May be awkward and they are offending.
Jim Horn
Over ten again.
Trump Had Potent Period
Trump had a potent period of denial,
And heard that they put him on trial;
We saw a stump,
Which was Trump;
Chewed off more then could compile.
(And Chew.)
Jim Horn
THE UNPLANNED JOURNEY
by
JOHN M. ARRIBAS
I had a great breakfast gave a nice tip to the girl
I was late, had to swerve to avoid hitting a squirrel
I was really lucky when I crossed the yellow line
A semi was coming, head on, I made it back in time
But I over reacted and landed in the swale
Rolled over twice, but I’m here to tell the tale
Lacking any warning, I didn’t pack for this trip
I scanned the bow, looking for the name of the ship
The gangway was well worn, the ship an ugly gray
Officers at the first deck, had a few words to say
You’re our passenger, see the list with your name
Transporting you to the destination is our only aim
I was given a cabin number: the location of my room
I passed by a group of musicians on a break, I assume
I had an outside cabin, yet no windows to be seen
No dressers, closets or mirrors, a really weird scene
An eerie quiet was broken, by a noise outside my door
I spotted an envelope with my name lying on the floor
A gala event this evening, held on deck number three
Casual dress, music, gourmet foods, drinks, totally free
A magnificent ballroom, a stage illuminated bright
All the men attending were all suited in white
Men were dancing stag; and the women, solo as well
Band seemed to be playing, yet only silence befell
Ladies clad in white gowns, a red rose in their hair
Most passengers were elderly, but nary a pair
The food looked great, in dozens of colorful arrays
But as I grew closer, I saw they were all papier- maches
No food, no music, my suspicions were instantly imparted
I realized, all of us here are the recently departed