Best Roll Off Poems
"Here is my secret. It is very simple: one sees clearly only with the heart.
Anything essential is invisible to the eyes."
"Le Petite Prince"
Antoine De St. Exupery
touch me and
i'll touch you
we don't do this on a whim
measure twice cut once
but always from the heart
some use words rarely used in conversation
let these wonderful poets tickle that market's fancy
there are those
knit you a scarf from yarns of clouds
warm your day with a smile reflects
the clean heat of a nineteen nineteen sun
others who write you a poem you can share with a child
visions painted in words
cups of hot chocolate with those teeny weeny marshmallows
children's grandiose proclamations of love with every sip
for them the ambrosia of Gods confirmed by their laughter of joy
you see hopscotch squares loosely drawn in chalk
you see your daughter hear an echo for the first time
some poetry does that conjures a thousand pictures of pure innocence
also poetry that sings
with rhymes that are natural,
neatly placed in the story being told
or
sometimes the kind
occasionally trips on the page
love doesn't demand conditions
sonnets neatly metered
roll off the tongue
or
even if it twists a bit leaves you with a knot
stick it out and laugh it straight easy as that
we're here for each other
people before words
let's love each other just because we can
touch me and
i'll touch you
we don't do this on a whim
measure twice cut once
but always from the heart
Jan 14 2016
armand
How easily the words roll off my tongue
when decisions become too hard to make.
Even then, I only admit them to myself.
Sometimes I get confused, indecisive,
and hesitate in moments filled with doubt.
If only I had more confidence in myself
I would trust my voice not to stutter,
and maybe my heart wouldn't flutter
when you come so near to me.
Sometimes I turn and walk away
instead of smiling when I feel you there.
Sometimes I wonder
if there could ever be a you and me..
If only I could get past being so shy
Maybe, just once, I could look you in the eye
instead of lowering my head and walking by.
Maybe my life wouldn't seem so bleak.
If only I had the courage to stop in the hall
and find something to talk about.
Am I weak? Sometimes, I am.
If only, maybe, sometimes, and I'll add 'what if,'
I admit I use them as lame excuses.
my thoughts are profuse, and cluttered
with the 'what ifs' I only dream about.
I believe my alibis are lies,
but what if I remove the mask I wear
to hide the things I'd rather not see?
Maybe then I'd be more content with life.
If only my pounding heart remained silent
long enough to rid me of this fear.
Maybe I'd find the courage to be free
so you could see the real me.
If only...
August 4, 2020
Contest by Silent One
If only, maybe, sometimes
.
Your written words roll off my tongue, and I savor the taste
Captivating my desires, with your nostalgic embrace
Your verses I desire, your poesies I crave
Your sensual phrases place me in a daze
Rhythmically in sync, steadying the pace
Melodies in motion, no need for haste
Intoxicated by the scent of your lyrical fragrance
My imagination climaxes from your melodic persuasion
Your hypnotic undertones send chills down my spine
It’s like poetic seduction when I read between your lines
Chiquita Chiamaka Baity
^^^cdi^^^
Enticed by his faceted aspects
Political points show his honour
Policies opposed, David contests
Left wing woke folk admonished
Rawness of broad topics examined
Cowboy stories of recent history
Scenarios derived from within
Issues which play contemporary
David flavoured, his firm essence
Infuses my little with his lot
I honestly struggle to explain this
... never missed what I don't got
.. A man who won't take crap
Shallow hits roll off his jaw
My bull wouldn't just lapse -
He'd bleed it dry, peace restored
Faceless man tells me myriads
Written by unwavered conviction
Marathon stamina poem olympian
I, willing victim to his inflictions
Dreaming of David, strange concept
- exclusive, by myself for eight years
It's a choice to remain alone, heart kept
Relic packed away, oddly he endears
Hard nosed refusal to enter this century
Old school stance pings my deepest vibe
Unreasonable, how much it means to me
To absorb the jib of David 's scribe
Around three years his senior
In virus time, located overseas
I fixate on his strong demeanour
In lurid choc chip fantasies
12th September 2020
Poetic words that roll off the tongue
that is what she was all about
Every early morning before the crack of dawn,
her soft boiled mind searched,
filling in ideas
filling in,
THE POEM
that would flower in the light of day;
She swam in the silence of her bedroom
searching for words that would light
the emptiness she felt inside.
filling it she felt
filling it she knew
that writing poetry was the only thing to do,
when her soul went, all askew...
Clumsily tripping, over our own feet
Sometimes, minds aren't meant to meet
perhaps we're off just a micro beat
thoughts obscured, behind glass covered in sleet
Sure there are those, who wish to exploit
but really in the end, what's the point?
We're all merely visitors, in this joint
Trying our best, with words to annoint
Cloisterd in shadows, wanting to be found
glimmers of earlier selves, clowning around
When others laugh, why do our fears compound?
Downturned mouths, strangled crying sounds
Embarrassing moments, last an eternity
Sometimes I'm my very worst enemy
Thinking hidden messages, are meant for me
Is that what poetry is meant to be?
I let essential words, roll off my lips
Credentials have no taste, when I take deep sips
Preferring a message, from a page that drips
My mind unfocused, takes many trips
I like the power, of words intrinsic
Flavors and texture, is what I like to lick
If it's too saccharin and sweet it makes me sick
My pleasure comes, from words hot and thick
So you see, I too like to word explore
Words found, behind a cryptic door
I start upright, end up on the floor
Keep on reading, until I can't absorb anymore!
Written at the request of James Horn.
Response to his "to Come Back Again" Poem.
Thanks James, our interaction led to a poem of the day!
Virginia's abound with hills that roll off her shoulders
Wet rocks glisten on the edge of the lazy water
Translucent fish arching through the cold channels
Silver barbed hooks rusting in tree trunks
Dangling over the water, and breathing life into the earth
Wet like your skin, see-through blue eyes
Making waves as the children pirouette off the stone cliffs
Disappearing into the emerald green and slate shadows
Meeting the cool rush of the river when they get down there
Or that old carp that Lizzy caught last summer but she let go
Swim bladders shining like mirrors, reflecting oily promises
Running after the great blue, pistons heaving in the hills
Soot on daddy's solemn brow, over his gentle eyes
They all come running, soaking and plodding home
Eager hands grasping for the pie in the window
While the last beat of the summer wind kicks around
Makes the quilt with many colors take flight on the line
One more day under the belt, and another notch in the bed post
Sleep like kings, little Southern Royalty
That old time hang dog moon will see you through
Silent Wisdom
Did you see?
Did you look?
What do think?
They are so… … ?
Words heard directly,
indirectly or by accident,
but never by intent.
Not things you would say…
to anyone’s face,
especially theirs.
No!
Not things you would sing.
Not things that you would want…
said about you,
or your family.
Let the words die before they live.
Let the shadow of their ugliness,
roll off the backs or pure white ducks.
Swimming in small lake,
That turned out to be an ocean.
That ended up the sea.
Forgetfulness.
Welcoming everything,
that should be silenced,
long before it is
ever…
given breath.
Roars of thunder echo
Restless clouds colored grey
Release liquid treasure
Raindrops roll off rooftops
Rippling in small puddles
Raising water levels
Recipe for flooding
4-15-2021
Pleiades R Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Kim Merryman
don't speak til you're sure
that the words that you keep
tucked inside your cheek
have had time to form intelligent conversations
don't let them roll off your
tongue til your formulation is done
and they each have a meaning
i can talk til my face is blue
and spit out words that mean
nothing to you - but listen carefully
you may learn something new
let your mind be your guide
as the words and the phrases take a
ride - on a melodious train - headed straight for your brain
break the shackles off your mind and
sit back and relax and try to re-define some of the
things you've already heard
cause the first time around they may
have torn down someone else's dreams
don't feed the negativity
be selective about the words
that you choose - be it for
rap, poetry or rhythm and blues
and use them to create something positive
so don't speak - don't speak til
you're sure that the words that you keep
tucked inside your cheek
have had time to develop into the
things that you really want them to say
copyright2008
Like a sharply dressed snake
So cool and tatooed
Come with me he said
Looking with his shifty eyes
What a glorious creature you are.
Beckoning you into his scheme
As the lies roll off his tongue,
So easily with out effort
He steals your heart and soul.
He dances like rain on a cold tin roof
Not aware of the heartache hes causing
He's so arrogant and aloof.
He leaves you so cold and confused
Not possibly still alive,
Empty...Cold... Dead
Like the darkness inside his soul.
I’m going to break this Beak loose
Got my mind around in circles Duck Duck Goose’
Been through
‘Life’, Milton Bradley
Speak my mind,Expressing my feelings while Genuinely showing the real me.
Have you listened to my story?
What I have faced or what I have seen.
I have had to fight through life, body left scarred inside, outside and in between.
Red headed Black sheep of tha family.
Been through the most and still hold the biggest heart yet they are still determined to break me.
Been told I wasn’t going to be it.
So, I added it to complete my outfit
Snugged it on tight to show my silhouette fit.
Been told, I was soft and weak behind the tears that fall off my cheek
But, my tears just soften the beast.
Before the pain becomes words that she regrets once they roll off the tongue as sentences when released.
The tides roll off and on the land.
As ocean touches silken sand,
we two go walking hand in hand.
As if in sync, the palm trees
are swaying in a warm breeze
Another time when sun drops low,
where cotton grows - to fields we go.
In wind it looks like summer snow
whose drifting down makes no sound.
We watch it, and our hearts pound.
A passion fills my heart for you.
We leave the car; we’re dancing to
“our song.” It moves us through and through.
As cotton snow wafts – soundless,
the spell I’m in feels boundless.
Another time; another place.
We sit beside our home’s fireplace.
You read a sonnet. Lilting grace
keeps my beating heart in time
with its rhythm and the sweetest rhyme.
We hear upon our window pane
the cadence of a heavy rain,
but we embrace the heat’s domain.
Where crackling flames are dancing,
we two will be romancing.
I wonder as at night we’ve slept
and as in dreams that we have dreamt,
has our own breath still rhythm kept?
In crackled tintypes bent with long ago,
Amid flaxen sunset and skies of cherry—
In worn leather-carved ancient scenario,
He dare not lie in milkweed prairie.
He rides resolute toward that sweat-tinged fame,
Always the heart’s hero of our once young eye,
As pale ivory range sighs softly his name
And we all know the real reason why.
It is high sage country that he will ride,
As that tin sun burns alabaster away—
And new birthed rains roll off his cow rancher hide,
So his soft summer’s mirage will stay.
Some see him crude – of but limited worth—
Lacking pure knowledge or certain savoir-faire—
But born of bone plain, he is of no fool’s birth—
A force of nature that’s always there.
From coat’s patina past years slide, of course,
As lines are spurred so deep into his Sphinx face—
But he’d rather be poised high atop his horse
In no other country, time or place.
His heritage is long – it’s here he’ll die—
He rides his own land in cruel spring rains and snows—
And like that wax jacket, he’ll keep his hopes dry,
Because ranching is all that he knows.
The Poetic Mastermind of these times,
Penetrating with organically written rhymes,
Before you now, I’ve already won,
Speaking in fluent poetic tongues,
To all the puppets blindly strung,
Classic lyrical plots, stung by the gunshots on some drastic target practice,
From the abyss spilling Illmatic proof within hidden truths,
Clues dance, forbidden tests laying to rest dogmatic tactical rants,
Advanced pen stance, envisioning success, placing my mindset to this page,
Space aged minted constructs roll off the tip of my writing instrument,
Statements guaranteed to exceed all expectations, in control,
Hard to decipher like the Dead Sea scrolls, outta control you fall,
Falling to the depths of ignorance, so pack your bags, we don’t have the same interests,
The angel’s choice, vigorous, that’s our difference, the all-knowing voice, rejoice!
You need a hand to wake up, your stakes are flakey, keep reading the icing on the cake,
Shaping my art, start to finish without blemish,
So you better believe this, most poets can't achieve this,
I’ll be putting them into mental fits so they quit,
With wit and honesty, my number one policy is quality,
You’re glancing over my philosophy,
Claiming you need prophecy so I strike with high velocity,
Misunderstood and Hoodwinked by theology,
Unaware of your path,
Starved by the psychopaths cultivating your minds aftermath.
Quincy Mac
Date Written: 8.5.2016