Best Sophomoric Poems
If a poet falls in love with you
you will live forever.
Atticus Finch - To kill a mockingbird.
In the midst of conundrums, of 'what ifs.'
I dislike the ocean,
its bitter saltiness, brings no joy.
Perched safely, upon the highest cliff,
watching waves surge upon the shore.
They are a constant reminder of
how you waved goodbye.
Each ripple carried you away - forever.
Lost in reflection,
sentimental memories remain eternal.
Recalling how the sun caressed your face,
mirroring your spirited smile -
like a lantern in my darkness.
Still unforgettable -
the joy in those soulful eyes -
each time you glanced at me.
Nonchalantly, I would follow you.
As we walked without a care -
you never seeming to tire.
In our youthful playground,
rusty see-saws and swings
still remember our laughter and tears -
that first sophomoric kiss
and I can still taste you.
When night would arrive,
there was no fear, hand in hand.
You were like a mystical pixie,
glowing in the enchantment of moonlight -
it would illuminate through your eyes.
We could have danced all night,
our souls ascending to the heavens.
But, I was afraid of new horizons,
because, I knew you would depart -
just like a shooting star.
Without thinking,
I broke your heart -
before you could heal mine.
I remain in the silence of 'what ifs.'
But, I smile, content -
knowing that once there was a time,
your heart and mine,
merged like day and night.
Simple Musing
4 July 2020
This is a fictional poem.
An example for the 'One who got away' contest.
Categories:
sophomoric, loss, love, youth,
Form:
Free verse
I am whatever you say I am...
but, let's get back to reality...
Three short years ago, this room shined welcome mats across a screen of doldrums.
A place of unfamiliarity that screamed,
"You don't belong!"
Yet, a voice of reason spoke and said,
"Expand yir' roots. Venture beyond the comfort zone. Academia resides inside that room, but know you won't be alone."
Repeatedly,brainwaves declined what my wife and editor had told me.
I'd say,
"no way, I'm givin' up my soul for free, they read, they pay, like it's always been, the way it's going to always be!"
Unbeknownst to me one day, and with a slight of hand, my "Open Sores" were put on display and surprisingly more than a handful of great ladies and nice guys began to give feedback on what I had devised.
This interaction was something very new, helpful, and impressive. For a change, it was something real.
For years, those around me were quick to give praise with hidden reasons. Constructive criticism is amazing, and I welcomed being corrected or set straight.
Now there are those who choose to shut me down without explanation, and call me names.
DO NOT mistake me for sophomoric! These words bleeding from my guts have no style and need no approval. There is no thinking involved here, no plan. If you don't like it, fine...don't censor or bracket me in. So what if I am illiterate? If you don't like "street poetry" or the pathetic stuff I write, don't read it. If I offend you, tell me.
We should welcome those who are different than us.
Words of truth inspire movement, like fire.
I came to this room to expand my horizons, step outside the box, learn, help, grow.
There will be no apologies dealt for being different, or for being labelled as something uncomfortable to you.
This has been an ok room so far, but there is some clique trickanery going on.
If the dictionary must come into play, let me recommend looking up the term "Poetic License."
True, I may not be the writer you prefer, or aspire to be....but tread carefully my friend, for you have no idea of my profession. I've made a fine living, for a good long time, spewing words onto paper. I came from nothing, and may still be nothing to you...still, I do what I love, have no boss.
I am not an aspiring writer who dreams of a life, I live my dream. In conclusion, I must wish you luck in finding what you peddle poetry for. Until then, keep
Categories:
sophomoric, confusion, dedication, depression, devotion,
Form:
Free verse
'Tis so, I adore a polychromatic Muse.
She's a plethora of jolly dramatic hues.
Not to bore yuh surely with rant sophomoric,
But her aura is purely phantasmagoric.
I hear people ask, “Am I her signif other?"
But fear she might see me as only a brother.
It is quite fantabulous and those sorts of things;
So we, the two of us, will be looking at rings.
Categories:
sophomoric, art, crush, desire, engagement,
Form:
Rhyme
Oh I'm sorry I didn't get it,
not to worry I won't forget it.
In order to win, it's not the contest,
but rather the spin. The more stupid
the parameters, the more ignoresponses
from amateurs. The more moronic the
directions, the more sophomoric
the reactions. Could u b more
histrionic in your language
glucolic, never ending of cliché
pre ponderunceses of innane
uninteresting plainjane, U r a poet because u
have PAID the big $$$ dues and have special
powers of words/phrase lifeology. All will be yours
in member recognition, regardless of yr ignonill offerings
according to this site NOTALENTU.
True is the phrase you
really do get what u pay for. (Please don't end a sentence
with a preposition?)
Real words, dimensions come from a place within;
deep, dank, dark non existant and incoporeal of anything reality based.
U can't pull emo tensions off the top like adding cream
to yr coffee. Poetry is a gutterial personification of the fecal life
that inhabited u as an earthling offspring not chosen
to a family of illgotten gain origin. Given the noncapacity to provide the common
requirements for sociosill survival.
All of u can smooch my **** premise, bend over to shake my
gonadal good interntions as u pissprose praise one another
each other as OMG, yr choice of emotional integrity resonates with my
soulful intent to do better in the world. Throw up here. Vomit
victims filled remorse and no coital containment
u must be kidding when u set up these contests and yr stupid
rules that only u r to privy. To make yrself look literate above all others.
U stink like a skunk that is dead in a trunk. Oh the stinch
is so much that my nose I must pinch. Get off yr high
horse and get with the crowd, as yr present purpose I must protest
to LOUD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Write what u feel and For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge
forget the rest. Bend over.
Categories:
sophomoric, character, corruption, feelings, poets,
Form:
Free verse
Why can't I do it how I want to do it?
Been told my rhymes are sophomoric - at best
I may violate pentameter but I write what I like
Why must it pass some journal's vapid test?
Behind a block of writers I've been hiding
Cowed by thoughts of editing snafus
Trying to write deep, intensive tomes of valid lore
Only to be chastened and abused
There's elegance found in concise expression
Saying all the world in just a line
No matter that I know this, I belabor all my thoughts
Create elegies for elegance in time
Onomatopoeia is my best friend
And alliteration waltzes through my dreams
Thoughts chatter, clatter, chirp and clunk around about my head
Demanding that they be released in streams
And after I have done what I have done here
Exposed my heart by opening my head
I send it forth with hope that someone will enjoy my words
And get rejection letters only, in their stead
Won't you like my poem - just a little?
I promise it won't be a trite conceit
I don’t emulate the standard ways of any other writer
But you've called my words monotonous and cheap
But yet my writing keeps on remonstrating
That whether it be ballad or blank verse
It should be able to do, just exactly what it feels like
And it finds your journal editing perverse
It says it does not care if it is published
Doesn't want you to consider it profound
For if you did, it might become repetitive and common
And make cool people, like me, put it down
But won't you like my poem just a little?
At the least - you could be non-committal
Categories:
sophomoric, anxiety, dedication, funny, hope,
Form:
Ode
Seriously Jealous,
inherently over-zealous,
a calculation of the wellness-
of present day hellishness...
Seriously sophomoric,
traumatically important,
radical-
a spaceship uninhabitable.
Playing a game,
never would have guessed I was a lame...
Being insane,
while people are on their way.
Driving the plains,
with wheel chairs with sprains,
going to work on the veins,
with fangs,
from behind brains,
I withstand the shame,
and accept my fame.
Categories:
sophomoric, allusion, assonance, baby, bangla,
Form:
Epic
The day i saw
this con man
was night
and wind
was snow
and rain
he was laughing
kicking for fun
white snow balls
and children skulls
angels like flies
were falling around...
It happened the day
I saw this man
an unexploded grenade
was left on the board
killing instantly
the drunken pilot...
That day I thought
was the end of the world
that was taken over
from the foes of God...
I couldn't think straight
i was just a teen
stuck in the middle
of a sophomoric dream...
Categories:
sophomoric, confusion, day, introspection,
Form:
Free verse
There Once Was
By Franklin Price
3/5/2016
There once was a rich man who spent
His own money to be president
You can tell when he stands
He has very small hands
And to the debates he soon went
He found as he started to speak
That the others their noses could tweak
Some came back at him
But there wits were quite dim
Heads were bursting and starting to leak
He did quite well in the polls
Twice as well as the other poor souls
He rose to the top
As the others did flop
They began setting downgrading goals
The media jumped on him too
His opponents began something new
Came out with rhetoric
That was really sophomoric
Even green slime they did spew
Then one of them said something grand
Its meaning we all understand
You know what they say
In bathrooms every day
About a man having small hands
With that they sunk lower than low
They contested how low could they go
Much lower than we
Thought we ever would see
Did not take him down and then so
The whole party joined in the fray
To take him down in whatever way
Dig up any dirt
Bring on losers to hurt
Guess that's politics of today
Categories:
sophomoric, bullying, political,
Form:
Limerick
Yesterday is hell sifted away
tomorrow is heaven
a myth...
no bye, no aloha
complex married
misunderstood
unable to communicate
hate
a retaliating stranger who never saw first blood
eyes red
puddled with break down
habits grab for stimuli
the pill, the Beretta for the take down
longing to read, when ability limits him to simply write
this sophomoric curse
pain receptors dulled via sleep
yet the light pink demons creep
reminding blind self
nothing's mitigated
if only he could speak
Brahms whistles from the desk
supplementing a place in life
the creative act
a hard fought solitude
terrible and tremendous
weeks ago
jaws of life pried his body from a car full of lies
lucky to be alive
today
he's stuck in a room of no truths
where enemies pretend to be friends
and blood stains, like cries
never dry...
Yesterday is hell sifted away
tomorrow is heaven
a myth...
no bye, no aloha
Categories:
sophomoric, abuse, addiction, angst, anti
Form:
Epic
the following quite quirky epistle may not exhibit the ordinary characteristics of poetry, but i decided to share this self made challenge (where every word begins with the letter "S" - no explanation can be offered why such self cerebral torture imposed, nor what motivated me to focus on the nineteenth letter of the english alphabet at the exclusion of other noble vowels and consonants.
-----------------------------------------------------------
Sunday September seventh started seemingly same since...silver screen show secured seventy seven SeventhSeals.
Soupy Sales supreme salient strengths (starring smart pet sidekick Springer Spaniel Socrates) salvaged sagging sporting sorties. Slap stick stereotypical swashbuckling shticks supplied shipshape shenanigans.
Spartan stage set spurred spontaneous simply stupefying solution. Suede shod schlemiel. Sartre seasoned scenes. Sharp sticks supported sphere. Seats situated semicircular semblance.
SPCA, Siemens, Sears sponsored soiree. Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious shouted satirically 'specially Saturdays seemingly sellout. Spontaneous spritely Shogun Samurai sangroid stance satiated slipups stripping stellar seasoned Skidamarinks substitutes sacredly, seminally, silently, slipstreaming soulfully saving saga.
Sometimes silly spouse studiously sought spurious strategy stringing superlatives showcasing senseless sophomoric soporific skills specifically spelling storybook sassy sharpshooters supposedly sleuthing shapeless seated sideways (sic seasonal slate smug spotified snapchatting skippers selfishly scooped sloop-ful seasonal six-packs) sinister Swiss scalpers sat sometimes squatted.
Categories:
sophomoric, adventure, creation, funny, humor,
Form:
Free verse
It's a sick world.
Men of power,
greed, and cunning.
Vomit!
Banal and sophomoric,
evil men;
ohhhh such vile, vile, vile men.
Vomit!
Arrogant,
cantakerous,
cruel and callous men.
Vomit!
May they drown,
in blood,
in the blood of angels,
and vomit, vomit, vomit!
Categories:
sophomoric, angst
Form:
Prose Poetry
Save them
from the innermost of
the mind bewildered
the heart diminished
the voice demure to shout
Make them
collapse
with gloomy smile
Fake
intentions frail
of body and soul
promiscuous
Collide
Set free
a sage
in every word
on any page
display the sly wisdom
on vertiginous stage
Break
the rules
with detest for
the inferior manner
of callow honesty
for humane
Sake
Divide
Spare
the nightmare
noxious conqueror
contamination developed
through ferocious heart
in asinine mind
enveloped within rotten flesh
Take
advantage of their
sophomoric trust
sedated senses
and
amaurotic affections
Wake the blight
before they collapse
Deride
Categories:
sophomoric, confusion, death, depression, introspection,
Form:
Personification
my life in a nutshell;
I spend each day following myself
And others around
(Yet I keep that coverted at times)
Waiting for a command
or a criticism
that I may have once [l]earned
from my peers
We ask each other
For honest opinions
And then retaliate as if
Having expected to repress anything less
Than aplomb feelings laid out
In our minds
No matter the outcome
I still wonder why I bothered
to listen to the degrading words
At all
My life in a nutshell;
I am intolerant
to these stringent misconceptions
i cannot help to perceive
Of myself
And those who
Guide me
And create short-lived diversions
But today is but an ordinary day
which will repeat tomorrow
Where I will be
Mourning those sophomoric yet moving days
When I did not question
The ingratiating existences
I follow around
My life
Is but a nutshell.
Categories:
sophomoric, angst, courage, depression, devotion,
Form:
Free verse
I sit and reminisce about the "good ol' days"
The prelapsarian time before it all went sideways
The details of life were all that I saw
There was no rich, no poor, no petit bourgeois
As an unbeknownst member of the proletariat
I was in a state of semi-permanent merriment
"Class" was not realized until I moved north
And learned a simulacrum of poverty thenceforth
Then I get nostalgic for the radical breakthroughs
And the molting of all my sophomoric residues
I remember when I thought I could see
The world as it is in one, singular, reality
I was sure I had glimpsed some recondite apparatus
Guided by Providence and limitless afflatus
Now I know how naïve I was on both counts
That experience and wisdom are paramount
I look at life through a clear, antiseptic lens
And take a grain of salt with all my realizations
I don't mistake ardor or fervor for absolute truth
I don't swim around in the fountain of youth
I remember the past fondly and store it away
But focus my effort and gravitas on what I can do today
Categories:
sophomoric, analogy, blessing, culture, destiny,
Form:
Rhyme
I thought it once
To confess it to you
But I step back
Thinking of losing you
Friendship is a name
You are my life
I never play with hearts
I swear right now
I don't have any regret
Coz, love is so awesome
As I felt it
But when I tried to live it
It's so difficult
Yet, I will live it
You are the sky and I am the ground
We both are far
But our soul is one
We seem to be together
Love is life
Love is awesome
Love is sacrifice
Love is qualified
I may not confess
The feel I possess
But remember
Action speaks louder than words
I don't know is it a
Love, lust, crush or friendship
But whatever it is
I trust you with no end
I'll never cry for you
But I swear
I can bear the pain for you
Only for you!!
Only for you!!
~Feeling for someone is the best part of your life and heartbreaks are best lessons. Love is for soul mates not for fake dates…
Categories:
sophomoric, crush, love, love hurts,
Form: