Best Shyest Poems
The teacher stood in front of the class,
“Today, she said, “I’m giving you the same assignment I give every year!”
“Please write what you want to be when you grow up...
and remember:
There’s no wrong answer here.”
She found most answers to be the same as every other year she taught:
doctor, fireman, super hero, movie star…
one student wants to own a yacht.
The teacher read with interest…as their grammar she corrected
until she came across one paper…with an answer unexpected.
It was written by the shyest girl in class…who did not want a super power.
WHEN I GROW UP, she wrote in capital letters,…I WANT TO BE A WILDFLOWER.
Because bringing beauty to the world…is a flower’s livelihood
and I want to grow in places …no one ever thought I ever could.
The teacher held the essay in her hands…unwilling to let it go…and suddenly, out of nowhere, her tears began to flow.
She gently set the essay down…and as it glowed in her lamp’s light…She thought for a moment, picked up her pencil…then she began to write.
‘You already bring beauty to my world’, she wrote
‘And I know you’ll find a way...
to add beauty wherever you go.”
and she graded it an A.
Allison scrunched up her nose and oinked like a pig.
Joey stuck out his tongue and opened his eyes so big.
The other children in the classroom laughed out loud
when silly little Willie made his funny face then bowed.
Erin rubbed her little cheeks red with lots of finger paint.
Jack patted his face with chalk dust and pretended to faint.
Rachel pulled her eyebrows up and her chin way down
while Brent spiked his hair and wore a bad boy frown.
Each kid had a turn to try to win the honor and prize.
The shyest child of all was the winner. What a surprise!
It was the quiet little girl who was funniest of them all.
Jenna pursed her lips and cried, "Mama," like a real doll.
Then the teacher said, "It's time to return to your places,
but I promise we'll have another day of making funny faces."
April 21st, 2016
I remember being shy in school. Being the shyest kid was no fun, Being picked on all the time, being shy i guess was a crime. Being laughed at, made fun of, going home and crying, teachers always prying.
Being shy was no fun at all, popular girls talking about you in the bathroom stall. Never getting invited to a dance. The nerdy guy with the big teeth and zits was probably my only chance. Made fun of because i wouldn't talk or walk the walk. Didn't have any money, other kids thought it was funny.
But you know that nerdy guy with the big teeth and zits turned into a handsome man years later in life and now i can proudly say that i am his wife.
LAMB AMONG THE LITERARY LIONS
Housewives, secretaries, the odd pro willing to stoop,
All came, delinquents, child prodigies, derelict old men
“All welcome” – the Chair of the Writers’ Group
To those looking for support, with a love of the pen;
They were decent people bonding, scorning the pub
The roll call a hedge school of ancient fame
They read poems and stories like a literary club
And enjoyed playing the great writing game.
Anthology reviewed, the twelve year old took accolade
From the shyest to the most arrogant, all were shook
He was savaged by the grande dame in an envious raid
She was terrified someone so young would produce a book!
Even the chair demurred, and went to The Times
Requesting deletion of “all welcome “– young souls are stilled by such crimes.
When are we gonna leave this mood
You keep dreaming under the roof of imagination that you are with this person
And for how long are we gonna keep snaping in our head
The sounds alone keep making it real and steady active
We are now busy with imaginariness
When is this fiction transform to non fiction
We have the master plan and we haven’t taken a step into action and we keep wallowing.
Al Quran is the manual, a roadmap to follow
but it is not easy to see these treasures, we only saw them once and since then we ve been in imaginary.
The birds are pilot, they are nimble they go boundlessly and they are kings in the air
who create creat them if not ALLAH SWT
We are left with the option to consult the birds if they could help
We are now objects of mockery and ridicule in the eyes of birds
Because they are full of actions and we are the shyest of creature
They tagged us “Existing but inactive”
And they said
Hope you aren’t jaded of this your unsure awaiting love
We would avail and we hope your unreal burnishing love will not reverse to waning love.
Truly love is found but it must be followed Islamically
Merrilyn escorts John through the Western trudges, as strangest of strangles blocks the memerrical double
Her momentous reflection: sordid, drossy, and wide to portant throttles
As whips become kisses and fainting memories open with admittance
The sorest sense of what will
She sinks down with arms befuddled, hands secreting rantfit metal
The sheer glory of having a semblance to riddle
Awoke Marin from her marching parade huddled softly around the charred spittle
As a choke veered into the holdings of her room
No one came, no one threw
But out of light came light, words yet more words,
Gone again and afrittle,
The shyest voice in a passable kidult
‘Laudable is that which mantles over a variety of rituals delineated for the appreciation of the belittled’
This is what we call to your view
And how we crusade, A rolling few,
Round after round, at the eve of curfew,
Steepening the anguish, as identity falls to loom,
The track marks printed along the ever-present faro plateau
Following dusk till dawn
Wheat fields and a draft court after the meager youth
‘Tis a xenolithic anthem we hunger after in dissolution
Our copious ardours, our lasting milieus'
As last meets new,
Past meets few,
Drastic action opens a polylogue,
With visage repute,
Merrilyn dances tiptoe out her seven-storey window,
All around her, print vestiture falling to the ground
Your hair is dark,
Your stature petite
If your beauty was my opponent
I would already concede defeat
Smooth and soft,
Silk is what describes you
To describe your skin,
I couldn't do it in a haiku
The reason being
Your beauty is divine
Delve into fantasy
Wishing you were mine
Soaring to the stars
Breaching past a cloud
My mind comes to panic
When I hear this beauty's sound
Her voice is soft
Her eyes hypnotize
Your heart like a pool
Where I would dip inside
Maybe it's lust
Maybe something more
Who knows exactly
What this future holds in store
But for now I contemplate
Wait for the proper time
I don't know your name,
And you surely don't know mine
You pass me a gaze
Confusion in the highest
I guess the question is
Which one of us is shyest?
Yet another gaze
This one directly to my eyes
Am I a fool?
Am I letting this chance pass by?
I remain serene
Looking confident on the surface
Why the smiles and gazes
What is their actual purpose?
Unsure and in doubt
I formulate a plan
I summon courage
For courage is what makes a man
The action is about to begin
When I tell you to sit next to me
I do not know what to call you,
So for now it will be caramel complexity
Do not mistake me for a Bear.
True, I look like one, but my features
Resemble those of a raccoon.
Unlike the hulking Grizzly Bear,
I'm not an aggressive meat lover.
I couldn't be more peaceful!
I enjoy a plant-based diet.
Give me a bamboo any day!
No, I don't mind berries, fruit, flowers,
Grasses, bark, and small animals.
Never think "Bear" when you see me!
I do not hibernate;
I simply relax and sleep out in the open.
We couldn't look more different!
Bears wear uniform colors:
Brown, black, or white.
I, on the other hand,
Don a black and white coat
With a prominent black eye markings.
I'm one of the rarest and shyest...
Of wild animals; a solitary beast from China.
I live in cold and damp conditions,
But my dense, waterproof coat
Gives me absolute protection.
An extremely agile climber, I escape...
Larger predators with ease.
I'm a glutton that spends
Two-thirds of my waking hours eating.
Here's a bit more about me...
I stand 5' ft erect.
As a female, I'm shorter in stature.
I weigh up to 265 lbs.
As a female, I weigh less.
I give birth to usually one cup.
Did I mention I'm not a Bear?
Date written: 06/12/2023
Leave me on this island
Leave me on Elba to die
I don't mind
Actually I do
I'm just the shyest man alive
And maybe to her
I'm not even so much as a boy
"Only boys play games"
I was never in the game to begin with
I say one thing
Then contradict myself
Because everything I say
Carries the weight of feathers
Floating through black holes
"Love can be so sweet"
She also told me this
"But truth is even sweeter"
Even if it lacks a tasteful edge
Instead, a vulgar shape
A pencil-etched *****
in a textbook
The drumbeat ticks along
But there's no uniting force
Behind it all
It's aimless and broken
I never came
Never wanted to be there
In the first place
I tried to call it all off
But hung up and just didn't show up
If you can't count on me
Who can you count on?
…Sorry?
No, I'm really not
I don't want to spread a skin
Over something that cannot be beaten
The computer clicks on
Whirrs and starts
You understand every circuit
Every flash of light
As if understanding is some sort of
Absolution
But I pray the ambiguities make you crazy
They're the only thing left to keep me sane
Leave me alone on this island
Leave me alone to die
It's fine
For the shyest man alive
Maybe one day you too will value silence
And solitude
It's really quite beautiful
Sweetness in each fugitive
those sterling smiles both could give
so practiced over polished years
together, shed the shyest tears
one stood beside the other strong
sleek laughter in a girlish song
and Standby Silver has me blink
such beauty in this missing link
most graceful are the momentary
four glossy eyes were temporary
false shadows hide their shining charm
gray darkness, does a memory harm
but here I lay awake and look
glancing back to when grounds shook
evanescent walk of mine
and careless anger held your sign
trace back what matching footsteps tell
they end to warn of where I fell.
When the long-retired English teacher sees a wildflower growing on its own
she lingers there a while
as the memory of a student visits and brings with it…a smile.
She remembers standing in front of her class…announcing,
“I give this same assignment every year…
please write what you want to be when you grow up…
and remember…there are no wrong answers here!”
There answers were as predictable as children’s answers usually are:
fireman, policeman, doctor…super-hero…movie star.
She read each one with interest as their grammar she corrected…
until she came across one paper with an answer…unexpected.
It was written by the shyest student in her class…
who didn’t want fame or fortune…or a super power…
‘When I grow up,’ her wish was simply,
‘I want to be a wild flower!”
‘Because bringing a little beauty to the world is a wildflower’s livelihood
and I want to bloom in all the places no one ever thought I would.’
‘You already bring beauty to my world!’ The teacher remembers writing.
‘and I know you’ll find a way…to share your beauty wherever you go!’
then she gave her paper an ‘A’.
This is why she lingers a while when she sees a single wildflower….
to remember the shyest student she ever had…
with the greatest superpower.
The morning sun arose,
"When the shyest flower blossoms, my day is done",
he'd disclose.
"Am I to be
a happy and radiant sun?
Let's see...
With whom
will I have fun?
Bloom!"
The morning sun arose -
a happy and radiant sun!
Bloom!
dancing in the wind, a stillness
rushing thoughts, tis’ mental illness?
breaking through the peace in soft light
gusts pause over the ghostly night
songs awash with flowing feelings
the hand of God, posing healings
amazing love makes it alright
gusts pause over the ghostly night
trembling gusts of wonder and hope
rustling over hearts so they’ll cope
this music will surely excite
gusts pause over the ghostly night
nature’s soundless beauty unfolds
gentle flowers in shyest golds
joyful splashes as the stars write
gusts pause over the ghostly night
only our Creator can know
the wonders continue to glow
poetry heals the heart’s lone fight
gusts pause over the ghostly night
remember the stars fading sigh
only God knows the when and why
forests ache, the trees such a sight!
gusts pause over the ghostly night
my soul trembles with the suspense
it seems to have such a sixth sense
sometimes falling down, but not quite
gusts pause over the ghostly night
dancing in the wind, a stillness
rushing thoughts, tis’ mental illness?
breaking through the peace in soft light
gusts pause over the ghostly night
Gleeful roses turn to sullen churls,
And virgin smiles of shyest brides
Soonest morph into widowed furls;
Sad victims of your ill-bladed tides.
Swearing lovers of staunchest troth
Must sample your bitterest swill too,
And forfeit bonds of grandest worth,
As you gaily gloat like vilest foes do.
Most ardent toilers all hours round
In shady hands fattest gains leave,
Mowed to abysses dark worlds far;
To aliens you their ripe labors give.
And not even sure-shooting hunters still,
Can with all probity wait to taste their kill.
Bards of sharpest wits and niftiest tropes,
Thus must bow and trim ink’s wild hopes.
Your dial’s dual fangs envenom all matter,
And you’re Joy’s most culpable Saboteur!
Once upon a day, Long Days ago, there were hours to believe in
Where tomorrow was in the distance like yesterday is today, time was frivolous
So then the dreams were vast and filled with the flutter of fantasy having
a great thirst for knowledge, trying anything for a first time….without fear with
the confidence of new born soul. The world was to spoil with temptations
every path lined with fruit to satisfy even the shyest of youth. Time took flight
With the great fleeting numbers of migrating birds into the warm smiles of the future
As the…………………. shadows of my father, wrinkled and worn seems now to
be in my reflection. So fast is the inevitable past that would be me someday
And yet, not disappointing, but filled with a map, found of its treasure and many
riches of experience and that I lived it, to remember. Stories change as with
A Books character, to read different, fiction or fantasy, tragedy or love story
as I see now, all with the same last words ……If just enough time to speak of it,
–The End