Best Site Poems


Premium Member The Poetry Soup - a Souper Site

Fake News

As I was reading on the Soup with my morning cup-o-joe.
I saw a disturbing statement and it worried me so.
It was about our Poetry Soup, its decline and fall.
I tried to comment and ask why? But I was blocked after all.

How could our beloved website, with poets worldwide?
Shut down their operations with so many trapped inside.
Stricken with anxiety, I sent a screenshot to admin.
How could our team of leaders, leave us hanging in the wind?

I received a quick response, they assured me right away.
There was no decline and fall, the Soup was here to stay.
I was happy to hear this news I wanted to tell you all.
This was not a factual statement, just a bully booty call.

It’s never fun and games when you cause another’s fright.
Fake news is not a joke be careful what you write.
The Soup has become a respite, for many poets including me.
It’s time to show respect, please grow up and let it be.

Twas the Site Before Christmas

Twas the site before Christmas
and all through the place
All the poets were writing
happy thoughts to embrace

They sprinkled each stanza
with seasonal things
Like Santa Claus, candy canes,
five golden rings

All phrases were penned
with a holiday gleam
As sugarplums danced
in the midst of their dream 

With Frosty the Snowman,
live wreaths on the door
Evergreens, Jingle bells,
presents galore

Tree trimming poems,  
sleigh bells and joys
Fairly land winters
and elves making toys 

A star in the sky
that three wise men did see
A babe in a manger,
the nativity

Hot cups of cocoa,
the garland is strung
Tinsel and ornaments,
stockings are hung

I read and I laughed
and I grinned ear to ear
Perusing their poems
of Christmastime cheer

When I thought of writing 
out one of my own
Not a creature was stirring,
I sat all alone

I stared at the screen
wondering what I could say
To bring many smiles
on this wonderful day

But try as I might
my mind just couldn’t think
Of something for Christmas
to put down in ink

So I sprang from my chair
and I caused such a clatter
My neighbors called out
“Hey Chris, what’s the matter”

“It’s Christmas,” they shouted
as snow starts to fall
“A time to spread kindness
to one and to all”

When then, like a sled
moving quickly downhill
I got an idea
Of a way to fulfill

I ran to the keyboard
and started to tap
Before settling down
for a long winter’s nap

My fingers were nimble,
like reindeer they flew
To type out this message
so long overdue

For all of the poets
I’ve been lucky to meet
Who write so amazing,
leave comments so sweet

So here are the words
I decided to say
Merry Christmas dear Soupers
have a great holiday



Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays Soupers
I hope the holidays bring you much happiness and joy
and you are surrounded by love
I will be away for the holiday, so I will see you again next Monday


For the Ho, ho, ho, poetry contest
Sponsored by: Eve Roper

I Found Your Write On Another Site You Must Read This

So I found my decipher placed 
on a site on cyberspace 
with my name replaced 
by a fake disgrace 

the rhyme I’d written 
where I hadn’t been submitting 
now get ready for teeth gritting 
yours too has seen a submission 

Listen Soupers were all in the loop
cus I found poems I read on Soup 
duplicated by this douchey duke
you should see this looters puke

Plagiarist profiles are mine to devour 
but this could be a website conflict
their site thinks it has poetry power
been contacted still my poem sits

Ettahoustine this fraudsters name
you’ll find your write just the same
A call for arms or should I say pens 
link below have a look my friends 

Without a doubt undoubtedly 
your own rhyme you’re about to read
a theft and crime so sad to see
copy and paste link Powerpoetry

https://www.powerpoetry.org/poet/ettahaustine/poems
(all poems have now been removed)

ONE SMALL WRITE FOR SOUP
ONE GIANT PUT RIGHT FOR SOUPKIND 

POTD 18/08/2019
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Bondage Dating Site

Tell me more, I’m new to this town, 
When is the next event on,
An event where I can join right on in, 
And carnally do what I want?

What do you mean two people replied, 
Oh, I didn’t expect that,
I didn’t expect a dancing duet, 
I didn’t expect to be matched,

With a married couple both wanting the same, 
Wanting to obey what I say, 
Wanting and willing to be my enslaved, 
While I am the one who will play,

I’m glad that we met, my internet finder, 
Providing a secretive list,
A list of folks who like to meet up, 
For a secretive bondage site tryst.

This Site Is Looked At By the Cops

This site is looked after by the cops 
poets are drunk dopers
losers and boozers that never win
the cops are coming after the poets 
they are checking names and records 
and entering accusing words 
while sitting and eating doughnuts
the cops are locking up the poets 
drunkards druggies get rid of the dirt
cops are reading your poetry 
taking aim at you 
and child support 
run run run hahaha

Premium Member For Site Crashers

L acking the common sense of a maggot
O bviously attention starved as a child
S orry excuse for a human being
E merging from a place where dung was piled
R ejected for a lack of talent
S tuck in a self pity life beguiled


Premium Member Celestial Site

crisp flowing water
lies amidst pylon temple….
a celestial site

Copyright © 2011 By Caryl S. Muzzey

Third Place Winner ~ "Power in Observation” Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: John Freeman
Aug. 17, 2011

Building Site

Happy family on the billboard:
mother, father, darling child;
this prime apartment their reward
in modern geometric style.

Two bedrooms, one on mezzanine
with en-suite bathroom, air con cooled;
green river bank a space to dream,
for exercise a chlorine pool.

From high above the building site,
conductor of the symphony,
the guiding crane, positions right
each block, each beam in harmony.

Minions moving much like robots
lift and carry, lay brick on brick
in heat or rain that never stops.
End of shift they shower in public,

a ready smile though life seems tough;
steamed white rice all eat together,
in shelters made from scrap sleep rough.
Might they never dream of better?

Premium Member 4-19-77 Opposite Hill Site

The sticks on the hill
     were brushed when they were wet,
Lay with a pattered smoothness,
The bushes 'round which they swept
Bulged their greenly leaves,
Stony stairs on an uphill way
     creased a toe of the world.
© Wm Paul  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Time Trials and This Site of Poetic Soup Dimentiaaaaa

I try and publish and a poem in souptime and "the soupstraints to the confines existant 
excell to a minimal maxitude of differentila indifferencode interossities.
Since i am not sosoup fast with my train of soupthought I guess i will never be Souplasttic.
I write, write and recounter in a past present future souppremise. 
Its obvious yr souprnet leaves me soup blime,in my, ever soupsightless sinful silly soupless sandwhich sanctuary to quick/quack a witless word 
confirm ever frontal feverent folotoid fragment factoid frililous fever of
stilted  thinkthank terd thoughts on a for sale/site/sound garage site
basis of I hold enlightness. BTW WTF,  is wrong with yr empty vocab
vclock villanous counmenance clear as I try and postrepost my brief belief brainules 
on yr ever elusive everpresent invo invisible interprogrammishness invoiced? 
Get it right on target, interiget. Damn this is yr forte reality reformation regress ritual???????????? I am a hack hazard human and I see u derelict dick people online.
Stupid is as stupid does dodo duck ***** damn dill deamnor donked drowned dead and 
god gone grateful for the none guy, leave'em alone TV please!! 
Star bright Star light, give me a star and I'll be alright uptight out of sight.
........... Realllllly equal  WTF mindless minionTime is of the off/on utmost season,
 given in pride to all thought and in emotional co countenance essence. Really, u must
be joking,  Really???????????????????????????????????Unbelieveable.
I know, I know what yr thinking. Dah! Dah Dah Dah ty Da ta Da ti Da. WTF ever. Get a F--------------------------------ing poetic life JC.

Awsome Site

I thought that this would be an interesting topic to write
As some thoughts about this year's awesome events came to light.

Recalling the year's events made me pause
Yet several "awesome" events gave me cause.

In thinking about one particular thing I would say
That finding Poetry Soup has made my day.

Not ever knowing how addictive it can be
To write my thoughts in words for others to see.

And then there are the friends I have found here
Who's poetry sometime will bring me a tear.

Oh, I laugh at some, cry with some, even get quizzical 
But it only makes my fingers want to get physical.

My brain starts to ache as I work up a lather
Typing words into rhyme as fast as I can gather.

Yes, it is a gem of a site that I see
But the real gems are the others who write poetry.

Their words are more elegant than mine
And I often wonder how they come to them sometime.

When I read their work it is more than a cure
They express the thoughts which are ever so pure.

Like distilling fine cognac from its brandy base
The words that I read all fall into place.

So it makes me want to make my own work better
And to them I have become a debtor.

For the words I write come from inspiration
And some of the contests exact great consternation.

You see, I don't know an Iambic from a Pentameter
But, that's what makes me want to try harder.

So I write words in ways that I think are good
Hoping that my thoughts can be understood.

Many a comment passes the site each day
All, to me, are special when sent my way.

I appreciate the thoughts of others who will take the time
To read the words I have tried to rhyme.

So in looking for something happy that happened this year
This "Awesome" site makes me want to cheer.

Poetry Soup may not give you the zing,
But then, next to sex...it's the next best thing!

HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO ALL !!

New Dating Site

New Dating Site
           
Sign up today with grunt or groan or moans
Our specimens are dateable or so we say

Sign up to Date-It-Mate-It web-site right away
Without delay, today, or die

True love is hard to find so make it easy
Variety is the spice of life so try a different species
We do not discriminate.  It’s party time 
Animal, vegetable, minerals and clowns of every kind 


We will set you up with anything that we can find
Don’t look under rocks to find a mate
We’ve taken the liberty for your convenience and your sake
To secure your bug like buddies and snakes for future dates
Kept In a jar, a box and under glass

We have men and women refrigerated
Some even come alive but only at a princely price

Frogs are perfect for one night

Marriages are performed at Date-It-Mate-It
With whips and chains, we have no shame

We'll hook you up with I-Pads with your name

Nothing is left to chance
Nothing goes to waste for your romance

Bricks and stones are half price at our site
Sex with them is fine and we sell blinders

Critters are for free and come with leashes

Date it-Mate it-web site does it right
We make all couples fit
By using crow bars and pliers
And if it doesn’t work
We will kill it, to eat it, or wear it home

Use credit cards for your convenience
But we don't take them all the time
Due to local ordinances and obvious crimes

Signing up is easy as can be
“X” marks the spot
Simply state your species
And preferences between the sheets
Date-it-Mate-It  loves to please
Sign up today
You will never leave

Premium Member The Perfect Site

The Perfect Site

Emplaced in the shade of giant fruit trees:
Avocado, guava, orange and mango
Nature, harnessed for fresh cool breeze
From leaves and the wind in an endless tango

The canopy of leaves, thus formed above
By tree-to-tree branch intertwine;
A haven, e'en for the heart broken dove-
Clock-round shade, e'en in noon sunshine

Donning a rusty corrugated zinc hat
To the earth, inclined at forty five degrees 
Our childhood holiday habitat
Her eaves, now hives for honey bees

Cloaked in red, sun-dried mud
Now beaten blue-black by the sun and rain
The heavily creviced walls, housing many a bud
This shadow of her former glory - my pain

The courtyard where to our greatest delight
Grandma told morally instructing moonlight tales
Barring the rotten chairs in direct sunlight
Had lost not much in other details

Twenty six years after her peaceful passing
Seeking seasonal escape to the country side
Grandma's house is once more a blessing
'Twill site the country home of my pride

Poetrysoup, a Free Site

PoetrySoup,about it what I love most
is that,here every thing is free of cost.

Post a poem,then and there you get comments free,
you don't have to pay for any contest entry.

And if you are at your best with some good luck,
you can even win and earn some quick bucks:)

Make friends,chat with them and learn about poetry
all these things,you can do absolutely free.

And those, who are young keep always in touch,
freely you can get here your perfect match!



© kashinath karmakar 2012
===============000===============

Placement:3rd;(Jan 2012)

Name:kash poet

Date:22nd January, 2012.

Contest:What I love most about PoetrySoup

Sponsor:Carol Brown
© Kash Poet  Create an image from this poem.

Shogun (Collaboration With Richard Pickett's Samauri/Shogun Story On His Site)

The NYC. Detective strolled into his little office that once had been a janitors supply 
closet in an elementary school . It was converted into a police station after the school had 
found a more suitable spot to try and teach those unteachable little darlings from this 
neighborhood. The cops were cruising around here most of the time anyway. It just made 
sense to the higher ups to operate from here, and besides, it fit into the limited budget. There was talk that next year we might even get a janitor. Till then we would hoe out our 
own cubicles. The name plate on  the painted peeling door read  Detective Sgt. Bill Lipton. 
NYCPD.
     Looking around he could see it was much the way he left it before heading out for a 
much needed two week vacation. The tarnished coffee perculator was against the back 
white washed wall on a bench where he dreamed there’d be a window some day. Ahh.. It 
didn’t matter, he didn’t spend much time in here anyway. All… or at least most of the crimes 
were happening outside these walls and he spent most of his time in the middle of that.
     One picture of his partner decorated the wall; a police Warm Blood horse he named “Red Neck”. Bill toured a Central Park beat on Red Neck . Actually it was relaxing to work the beat on his trained horse as a mounted police officer...most of the time.

Continued as a part in unison with Richard Picketts Shogun/Samauri Stories on his site by his 
permission. -to be continued-

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