Best Smart Poems


Premium Member You Were Never My Friend

You were never my friend.
My heart would never, ever allow such a small thing.
Soulmate?, maybe...though so much more in the end..
I will give you my heart, only if you promise never to break it.
If the promise is never to be kept, I'll forgive you...
again and again.
For that is what this thing love is, all it ever does, or was. 

When you look in the mirror do you see someone worth loving?
Don't you know it lies? Won't you listen to me tell you the truth?
It's about time you knew. 

It was always you that was the smart one, you know.
Can you be smart enough to shut up and let me in?
The old hurts will go away. Or maybe they won't, doesn't matter.
I will love the broken you, with all your wonderful hurt, just as much.

Guess what?, you aren't perfect. And you can tell I ain't no carnival prize..
But there's something real, worth holding on to,
I could always see it in your beautiful eyes...

Person, Woman, Man, Camera, Tv

Identify an elephant
And I will shout, “Hooray!”
For you’re so smart you could be
Leader of the U.S.A.

Another test to prove your worth?
Repeat this after me – 
Five words: they’re “Person, Woman, Man”
Then “Camera” and “T.V.”

It’s comforting to know we’re led
By one with an I.Q.
That helps him to distinguish
All the red states from the blue.

Well, I am just a Person,
Yes, a Woman, but, oh Man,
On Camera, for T.V., I’d say,
“I hope he gets the can!”

Thoughts On Mgk Eminem Diss, It's Just What I Noticed

Beard looks weird,
that's a lyrical genius to be feared,
you wrote a 6 year song and got the facts wrong,
fired with the hair and safety still on,
I guess that scope's just a tele,
with sights and hopes on the tele,
Machine Bun Shelly, 
initials, MBS, Caps empty,
Mostly Bull Sh……
a superficial sipping soup to his belly
or is it breakfast for a serial prodigy, 
steadfast out selling cereal probably,
problems with his intellectual property
so he's just a prop to stop and see.
6'4 and standing taller,
picking on a man, his wife and his daughter,
who needs protection ay,
you're a big and bad ball-less brawler, 
that's the shallowest level you can resort to,
and though it's none of my bees wax, 
you did it to be witnessed and receive plaques,
but it was easy and witless like corny flakes,
the business doesn't need Autotune fakes,
forcing the rhyme like all you want is a smoke,
not literally you'd choke, that's such a weak joke,  
clearly begging for your songs to be bought up,
as if we went from Shady please stand up,
to worshipping a hairband on a no flair brand corrupt
and yeah I admit some of it was good, generous, but look,
with 6 years to write it should have been off the hook, 
this lame ass your best and you took as long as you could,
when your next hits out you'll remember when you last stood,
and you'll be mocked by the only line that was any good,
MGK can't stand up,
that'll get you like Cranbrook,
from Cleveland Ohio,
leave now and fly home.

Note the depth and the many double entendre in this,
written within an hour of hearing that diss,
MGK's peak, now for the diss-appearance,
I've heard you can't write your own lyrical sentence,
that's dense, how you ever gona go the distance,
now go into the distance with your spoon and bowl,
you had your 15 minutes so back to your hole.

Part 2: Picking the rhymes apart and taking a shot, on my page to read now.

* the second line is a double entendre, 
a serious comment about Eminem and a sarcastic one about MGK, you know, cus rhyming beard and weird is amazing haa.
* Hair and safety clip on
* Just a tele, a telescope
* Initials - cus MGK initials but Eminem doesn't M&M
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.


Stupid Smart

What does it look like
From over there
Describe the sights
No details spared 

How does it taste
Is it always delicious
By the look on your face
I’m a bit suspicious

I happen to be
Opposite to you
On the humanity tree
Like yellow and blue

I imagine your half
An enlightened bunch
No need for math
Just an arrogant hunch

It seems quite ironic
To say the least
That, in fact, you’re ignorant
Yet too smart to see

Rhyme God

Enter the Everest that devastates 
as he never ever rests and demonstrates 
his quick wit picnic of traits that place 
with lickety split flicks on the page 
the tricks of a contortionist wrist that emits embers at pace 
as he commits and performs on the centre stage 
with the impact of a storm from the biblical age 
the act of an adorned prolific rampage. 
Irresistible talent abundantly apparent 
you thought you'd witnessed 
ability but until now you hadn't 
when the rest in the business 
appear to be unskilled 
and transparent 
as their best rhymes diminish 
right here to be unfulfilled 
and redundant 
thus divested of finesse 
while it's clear to see you're thrilled 
in this moment.
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.

Misjudged By History - Not

President Barack
Teaches as Mother taught us 
"Speak Respectfully"

contest-Senyru of being misjudged
© Judy Konos  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Smart and Final Prose

Daylight fades, a city pulsates, and traffic is reflected in store windows.  
Hurrying headlights come out of the darkness. 
They crisscross like dueling knights.  People in the crosswalk scamper 
as if squirrels and streetlights leer gleaming yellow eyes, like watchful hawks.
The shrill trumpets of the charging gale force winds, rattle an awning,
and newly planted maple saplings bend and sway 
in random pairs.  Set in concrete planters, they hang on by tender rooted toes. 
Pages of a discarded newspaper are hurled into the air, 
buoyed on the steely breath of a frigid winter evening.  
Several leaflets scatter into the street and down the sidewalk,
into the path of one lone pedestrian.
He slaps away the sports page, that flies into his chapped, red face. 
Without hesitation, this castaway vagrant, down and out 
by the rape of hard times, will accept an offered dime,
from a passing man in a Red Sox ball cap. 
Head bent low, face hidden, a worn and dirty pea coat
pulled tightly around his thin frame, he carries all his meager belongings
in a large paper grocery bag, wrinkled and beginning to tear. 
Serving as his satchel, the brown bag, damp and worn, 
still displays big bold red and black letters 
advertising "Smart and Final Grocery"--"Located in Three Convenient Locations".
A city bus roars by, splashing through three days of rain, 
and a siren and a blaring horn is heard from the next block. 
The dark silhouetted outcast, stops for a moment, 
peers into a sidewalk trash receptacle, then continues slowly down the sidewalk.
A taxi pulls up along the curb behind him, and the attractive couple, 
dressed in evening wear, emerge, pay for their taxi, and arm in arm, 
enter Mario's Italian Restaurant, the brick bistro 
that sits on the corner of Broadway and 1st. 
It begins to rain again, and across the street people open umbrellas 
and like the afore mentioned squirrels, they scurry home to supper.
The lone man walks in the rain, his pace doesn't quicken, his voice never spoken, 
a spirit broken, ............ his sack held together by circumstance. 
A passerby takes a brief glance...just a quick, chanced moment, 
to take notice of "Smart and Final's" last stance.

Premium Member My Aminus Brain

I am of soft, delicate skinned casing,
Housing an iron, logical facing.

I grant my femininity free reign
To follow dictates of my manlike brain.

My seductive charms can attract a man,
But he may run far once I show my hand.

My quick, mental wit delivered deadpan
Cannot be handled by males with no span.

Only those of equal mental process
Will see my smile and know any access.

Feelings don’t phase my skill to analyze,
Even when I flash my come-hither eyes.

I don’t have masculine strength or muscle,
But in games deductive, I can tussle.

Call me feminine, demure or girly,
Such true adjectives won’t find me surly.

Color my world with sheer lace all pearly,
Just remember my sharp brain is burly.

Premium Member Elementary

The consumate sleuth Sherlock Holmes
Hardly lacking the wit chromosomes
With the faintest of clues
To bemuse and confuse
Cracked crimes in the Welsh catacombs



AP: Honorable Mention 2023

Submitted on January 27, 2019 for contest LIMERICK 3 sponsored by JOSEPH MAY  -  RANKED 2ND

Talking To God By a Box Fan

"TALKING TO GOD BY A BOX FAN"


hi God:

it's 3:33 in the morning and
I don't know what to do. 
everything is upside down.
there are red eyes sitting 
over the kitchen table and
they are all laughing and
eating and singing.
I haven't slept right in weeks 
and you wake me up in the 
middle of the night to write. 
I just took a pill and I'm 
waiting for it to put me down.
no one is around. 
they're out and silent. 
I have my own out and silent 
and it's in this room. 
they create a heart inside a 
man and let him sink.
I need a knock on my door 
from an old face. 
why is it when a man is soaked 
in love the rain never stops?
why is it after they create 
a heart inside a man they 
leave him to write poetry in 
bed at 3:33 in the morning?


By: Chicano Eddie

Why Won'T You Play With Me

He and I went to the same school,
we were in the same class.

He never studied with me
or played with me.

He was too cool for me
and I didn't know how.

When we each went our separate ways,
back to our homes,
he had help with his studies,
while sometimes I found supper.

He got to sleep with just a blanket,
feeling warm and toasty,
while I slept with just a blanket, too, feeling cold as if I was outside,
perhaps I was.

I never wished I was him,
why would I?
why would I want to be someone,
someone who wouldn't want to play with me?

He never got the higher grade.
Now as he receives his paycheck from me,
he asks me how.
How did I?

I paused and smiled,
you never played with me,
no one did,
so I kept myself busy.

He said thank you for his bonus,
I said, no!
Thank you for not playing with me.

A Great Mind

A great mind is a curse and a blessing, 
It is the engineer of furtherment;
Yet, it is loathed by its inheritor.

It begets its host a wealth of stardom,
Though this abundance of fame is detested;
For it reaps far more suffering than joy.

The constant attempt at normalcy,
The ineludible mental anguish;
This is what plagues the life of a genius.

Forever shall the gift of brilliance be condemned,
By beholder and spectator alike;
Because in all of its greatness, envy grows.

An envy so fierce that it forges hate,
And in its wake, not but regret remains;
Thus, a great mind is taken from the world.
Yet in its loss, something emerges. Hope.

Pen Gwen

Her name was Gwen
and she was a poet
but Gwen was a penguin 
so Gwen couldn’t show it

Gwen couldn’t pen things 
no hands on her wings 

She was no pen Gwen
the poet penguin


*Pen Gwen
N/A 
Bring a character to life 
Richard Lamoureux
9/11/2019 12:00:00 AM
Yes 9/7/2019 2:36:00 PM
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Smarts

Intelligence rises from ignorance when elevated by common sense...


     One Liner Contest
     Sponsored By Silent One
     07/11/2016

Premium Member Thoughts On a Jezebel

Because she was a buxom blonde
and he lacked a sage Adviser, 
(like a naïve fresh off the pond)
he fell for and idealized her.

If he had been but the wiser
and much more careful with his heart
as if he were a mean miser,
he’d have ne’er been fooled right from the start. 

Poems for one of cheap, impure heart
make the Poet look un-clever
and like a fool, which is not smart:
hence his case from her did he sever!

A lesson learned late than never
is much better than to be fooled, 
played, conned, gulled and duped forever—
and so in her cheap wont he is schooled.

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