Best Severe Poems
Due to growing Nimbus clouds of oppression
an area of low pressure has been building
Rest assured, it won't lead to bouts of depression
but rumblings of thunder have now been heard,
foreshadowing the bombs of fury soon to come.
Be advised: the ripping winds will not be deterred.
To counteract and neutralise any negative vibes
this Poetry Souper has been on a strict vegetarian diet
of lentils, cabbage soup, curry and beans; re-fried
They have been consumed in copious quantities.
Take shelter from wind gusts. There may be a riot!
Steps are being taken because many have died
from the expulsions of a toxic build up of gas.
It's predicted to be tornado level turbulence
emanating from winds blown out of my a s s
Anatomically referred to as expelled flatulence.
Blowouts should be considered as lethal blasts,
and not to be taken lightly, ignored, or scorned.
This is a public service alert of severe wind forecast.
The approaching storm is of gigantic proportions.
Gas masks are advised. You have been warned!
Warning Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Richard Lamoureux
Submitted to Weather Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Angela Tune
2/28/20
If is committed a heinous crime
God will catch at the right time
The whole World will come to know
His real anger God will surely show
He will give a perfect check
For that unholy, dirty trick
Punishment He will heap
Adversity one must reap
Frauds deserve great penalty
As the intention is faulty
Never will God offer to forgive
They can never peacefully live
Always there will be a threat
Happiness they can never get
They will be strongly beaten
Until their bodies go rotten
In their chest, God will kick
Due to fear, they will go sick
God will strangulate their throat
Like humans cutting a goat
God will accept not any apology
And will not fall prey for eulogy
At first, only a few droplets
fall from the clouds to quench the heat.
And like drips of perspiration:
splashes start to freckle the street.
What begins as a light sprinkle:
morphs into a raging downpour.
And water pools at drainage grates,
flooded sewers: can take no more.
Lightning bolts splinter charcoal skies,
as thunderclaps, make the earth quake.
And the wind howls like a banshee:
garbage cans, toppling in its wake.
City roads, with cement sidewalks,
cannot function as a blotter.
And islands begin to appear:
awash in a flood of water.
As the receding storm passes,
raindrops dwindle to just a few.
And when the wind starts to calm down,
scattered clouds reveal skies of blue.
At seven o’clock this morning
I farted without any warning
Blasted out of bed
Ouch! I bumped my head
Tum’s upset before day is dawning
Excess gas sure makes me feel ill
I swallow a black charcoal pill
From the break of dawn
I toot like a horn
I’m lucky hubby loves me still
I had a blast writing this fictional poem!
26/1/20
All I ever did was love and take good care of you, in return you took a knife and slice my heart in two
I became very ill after I put your happiness in front of mines, you were never worth fighting for after these horrible times.
The good life I have always tried to help and you did get caused many nights of extreme pain, I wonder to myself why did I care for someone that was trying their best to drive me insane.
One day will come when my heart will be very strong and not weak, then is when a taste of your own medicine for surely will bring an end to the tears falling down my cheek.
holding some writings near
the winds caress the evergreens (at least I can hear)
the war stories, oh my, oh my, oh dear
tangy peaches to eat
- then she sheds a tear
soul searching,
the lack of clarity - now clear
while
wearing
blankets
worn
by heroes
untold unsung
awe-inspired
severe.
autumn fast faded
watery eyes winter came
efface all brown hues
Saddened words too often heard
Been long enough left withered
Never knew what once hath done
Though, loveth heart of others before its gone
I laid blissfully beside gazing at her
For she missed her love, hadn't been there
She'd poured her love that always been
O, Etched my heart for what I'd seen
Why sorrow has been so tough?
For them life's been so rough
As I, to hide sorrows and live confined
But couldn't help tears hushes behind
In this despondency and dearthy sphere
Love become hatred:Human become severe
Yet, they thirst for love in distress
Alas!!! Everything enters into emptiness
(I wrote this poem about the dog, who'd been aborted. She feed someone's puppies and care with love and affection even with knowing that they are not hers.)
Severe Weather Predictions...
Professedly Plagues Psyche
I do not watch, while
feigning to sip ale,
nor listen to Wail
ling Jennings poor
imitation by prophetic
local aborigines scent
ting ancestor trail,
while plucking their
Sing song ukulele
national anthem (tip towing
thru the dale
lie la of hybrid tulips)
hearty and hale
Climatological headlines,
more like a puffed up
magical dragon exhale
ling nothing boot hot air,
comprising a renown folk song,
and/or futuristic tall tale
that usually pre
dominate every airwave scale
ling the gamut of
every frequency 24/7, rail
ling dire warnings,
and no need prevails,
particularly for those
refusing to evacuate,
and become sitting targets
like quail caught
in the cross hair
for me to know
onset of biblical pro
portioned sized debacles
(since joblessness thy status,
cuz social security disability received),
but more pertinently
dire forecasts rarely manifest
into monster mashing maelstroms
case in point
being this predicted
"three sisters of all hurricanes"
Florence, Light
Ning, and Gale,
found this storm chaser
disappointed, cuz monstrous
banshee's utter deplorable show
ranked as utter dud at least
(in my book), they did fail
to wreak havoc
falling far short
to flatten every tree,
which limb mit
to flash flooding
minor inconvenience
forced every to sail
guy did by those freed from jail.
Why is it all like this?
Such a mixture, such a mess?
One man only answers and makes sense
Beauty is for the looking
truth for the hearing
if you will
Love will lance your poison
drain the darkness
declare heaven
like a dandelion clock still telling
in the teeth of a gale
This severe love is no sweet tale
Life and death don’t play games
but love embraces all
with a driven heart like driven nails
Draw near, stretch out to hear
for only one thing matters
and all will be made clear
7.00
Winter seems to be so severe;
Had tormented while it is here;
Spring is now and am impressed;
Up things seems to be all dressed.
Another new year did reappear
While my horse thinks it is *****;
Each flower has began to bloom;
Swept leaves away with a broom.
Remained alone in my room day by day;
No longer on earth will remain and stay;
In heaven beloved God would receive;
Behind all of my loved ones did leave.
Jim Horn
Torn dress in my hand
Day old mascara running down my cheek
I whisper help to a stranger
but no one hears my cry
The moonlight dims behind a cloud
Darkness is all that I see
The road is cold and damp, but I keep running
Running from the shadow
There is no place to hide
I sense his presence near
I have to pray to keep him away
He only wants my sins
Lord keep me safe from his hell
I was waiting for a miracle to come
Don't let him take me
I close my eyes to feel God
I shout into the night sky
only you are welcome here
Silence is broken as he takes my last breath.
A severe thunderstorm is currently passing through
Our Golden is hiding behind my LA-Z-BOY on queue
A scared-y-cat pooch
Needs some hooch
To help her get through without dropping a poo!
A poem form with severe limitations
Add many stringent applications
Does one write with intellect
Oh! Heck, incorrect!
'Tis shot down!
Decked!
So this clown
Will just disconnect
Don't worry 'bout that aspect
Whoa! Just do total aberration
A poem form with severe limitations
whilst bored as ****
sitting in front of the
screen, wanting to
remember better days,
wanting to feel like it
never ended, wanting to
feel young again, wanting
to have the heart stir,
wanting to feel the ears
pang with noise,
wanting to sway in the crowd,
wanting it all to
seem better again &
alive,
oh, so alive---
s/he turns to youtube,
wonderful, blissgiving
youtube,
who stores the footage of said
favorite bands of
yesteryear &
s/he starts to watch & relive,
watch & relive,
pondering how back then
in such a wonderful state of awe,
s/he really didn’t know a thing,
s/he had no idea of just how quick
it would all go away &
becoming jealous of the wandering
youth of today &
becoming spiteful, bitter &
with all those horrible flooding notions,
s/he gets angry at her/his favorite
band, who,
like her/him,
has rotted away as well,
sold out, disappeared & then
pathetically attempted to resurrect &
reinvigorate,
a corpse that was no longer relevant or
energetic, to say the least &
with a 1000 tears blistering inside,
s/he mutter to her/himself in the
deep dark seclusion
of a night spent home in front of the
screen,
“this, is how i want to remember them…yes,
this is how i want to remember them,”
knowing all to well that
“then,”
is all s/he wants to remember.