Best Spelling Poems
SPELLING TEST (there are over 30 words contained within this poem that are often
misspelt by the common man)
We all do on occasion temporarily misspell.
Amateur or connoisseur of language,who can tell?
Conscientiously piece together,peculiar bits of rhyme.
Manoeuvre letters gorgeously for others to refine.
Discipline and experience,all apparent to you and me.
Pronunciation not enough to spell linguistically.
Skilful realignment of the letters needs addressed.
Paralytic implications quintessentially expressed.
A ricochet of rhythm,sabotaged in a queue of verse.
Cacophony of tone with their spellings unrehearsed.
Is your spelling kamikaze,a haemorrhaging of ink.
A karaoke nightmare,communication on the brink.
So literary geniuses,i am all apologetic.
If my utterance is rabbled and my spelling is pathetic.
You see,many words i utilize in this poem i create.
Have been misspelt for centuries,the most common is
separate
In my quest to escape monotony at work I stumbled upon this poetry site
Little did I know I would excavate a gem with a zest for life
She is also a lullaby songstress; in between my spelling and grammar blunders,
We’re a recipe for madness: crazy blogs, even stranger emails, our laughter and tears
I unearthed Nikko aka Missy, "the spelling queen" my friend with a gracious soul!
#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~
I went to have soup at a table atop a mountain, when who should I meet there?
A very pretty, sassy, missy; she did a 3/4 turn--CrAsH! (2 cabs, fender bender)!
Her laughter and madness, just totally contagious...even strangers want to kiss her!
Through her wonderful words, each petal revealed a bit more sparkle, a stunning gleam
I was so right! Wilma, "the crazy one", she's my true gem of a friend, a vivacious soul!
For Tracie's Grab a Mate & Collaborate poem :D
-- Wilma Neels & nikko palmario :D
Loads of fun, thanks Missy for embracing my madness :D
290820111855
I tried to read a favorite poem of mine for you.
Your eyes glazed over.
You could have been a lizard on a rock
sunning yourself, entirely unaware
that I felt as though I were there in front of you
reciting my words of such beauty
that an angel could have been
singing them while playing on a harp.
You may have even fallen quite to sleep.
Not once did you look up or glance at me.
You told me later, in fact, you had no use for poetry.
Another time I tried to read a poem to you.
It was a poem meticulously crafted just for you.
I could tell you liked it, for you were its centerpiece.
You pricked up your ears a little bit.
You thanked me, but no sweet words
of great appreciate did you return.
I am a stranger in your world of pure practicality.
Your love for me is steadfast and real; however,
asking if you’d love me if I were not a poet
is like asking a mother if she’d love her baby
if it were not merely there cooing in her lap.
Crippled from my childhood memories,
and a past riddled in agony and pain;
I grew up confused of who I was,
and wondered if I was insane.
Crippled in my turbulent teenage years,
by the awkwardness of being shy;
I was so embarrassed of who I was,
that I really just wanted to die.
Crippled in my first relationship,
she hated her time with me;
She dropped me without a parachute,
another loser in a barren sea.
Crippled in my last try at marriage,
she had her own agenda from the start;
She stole two boys I loved so dear,
and left me with a broken heart.
Crippled from the lack of self respect,
that I almost ended it all;
But just as I threw myself of the cliff,
God caught me in mid-fall.
Crippled by guilt and unworthiness,
as he held me before his face;
I let him have my heart that day,
when he embraced me in his grace.
Van Gogh refused my cigarette, ‘No thanks, I’ve got one ear’
*
The zoo wanted some antelope but they were just two deer
*
I offered the cabbie some chewing gum, he said do you think that’s fare
*
Why did Adam eat the apple when Eve had a lovely pear
*
The tyrant banned men in white shirts: people are going to dye
*
He claimed to have some caustic soda, was that some kind of Lye
*
The ageing mechanic removed the wheel, he was ready to re-tyre
*
Robin Hood was livid, the donuts were in the friar
*
A starving woman’s fave celebs are bound to be ‘has beans’
*
Men just seem to like her, is it something in her jeans
*
My search for water in the haunted woods ended in a creak
*
Folk are stealing mountains, should we take a peak
*
I’m spraying herbs with weed-o-cide: I’m only killing thyme
*
The mountaineer was chilly, he preferred a sunny clime
I lost my spelling and grandma checker
I am an idea roving iround inside on me heade
The lanquagees of today our so misread
why if y go back some yeers in the hundrads
the language was all different , aint that a bummer?
All the errors of times leng ago
the all surmounted to the rooles of now for shoow
we evlove wes do, of this I am sore
I love words even from distance shores
grandma would shoot me, make their be it kno doubt
Dis poem was written by a grammerless lout
Note: Posted a Blog on the same topic!!!
In my quest to escape monotony at work I stumbled upon this poetry site
Little did I know I would excavate a gem with a zest for life
She is also a lullaby songstress; in between my spelling and grammar blunders,
We’re a recipe for madness:crazy blogs, even stranger emails, our laughter and tears
I unearthed Nikko aka Missy, "the spelling queen" my friend with a gracious soul!
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I went to have soup at a table atop a mountain, when who should I meet there?
A very pretty, sassy, missy; she did a 3/4 turn--CrAsH! (2 cabs, fender bender)!
Her laughter and madness, just totally contagious...even strangers want to kiss her!
Through her wonderful words, each petal revealed a bit more sparkle, a stunning gleam
I was so right! Wilma, "the crazy one", she's my true gem of a friend, a vivacious soul!
**
This was fun, a collab with the crazy Missy :D!
-- Wilma Neels & nikko palmario :D
For Tracie's Grab a Mate & Collaborate poem :D
Oh! I wish I could spell “weirdo”! It really bothers me.
Is it the “e” before the “i”, or the “i” before the “e”?
Now, if it was a German word, I wouldn’t have to try.
I know “ie” is always eee, and “ei”’s always eye.
It doesn’t have a Latin root, so that rule won’t apply …
It really has no hook at all that I can grab it by.
Yes! It’s good old Anglo-Saxon, full of grunts and mangled vowels.
They didn’t have to write it- they’d communicate with scowls.
No! I really can’t spell “weirdo”! Not to write, or speak, or sing …
So the only answer I can find is ... don’t use the bloomin’ thing!
...........................................................................................................
This problem cropped up when I wrote"Mum's Advice Ignored" ...
I'm usually quite a good speller!
Entered in Susan Burch's contest, "Ridiculous Self- exaggerations"
Friday is spelling test day
At the school where Luke does go
Of course Luke hadn’t learnt the words
He just didn’t want to know
He should have learnt them every night
Straight after tea
But he’d much rather go out and play
Or sit and watch TV
Come Friday morning
Luke claimed that he was ill
A belly ache, an ear ache
Though he refused to take a pill
His acting didn’t fool anyone
His lies did not prevail
He went to school and took the test
Of course, a massive fail
But Luke isn’t all that bothered
And he’s forgotten about his ‘pain’
He doesn’t have to worry about tests anymore
Well, not until Friday comes around again.
Happily, I entered the class
I laughed with friends, but then alas
Joy was replaced with sudden fear
Knowing spelling bee time was here
Last time I had misspelled ADJOURNED
My tongue went dry, my stomach churned
Now one by one the others failed
ODYSEY... BROCOLI... UNVIELED...
Precisely feeling unprepared
Quizzes had always made me scared
Reading my word she called my name
She glared at me through horn-rimmed frames
Tracing her finger through the air
Under my breath I said a prayer
Vainly I pondered her request
Without a clue I blindly guessed
X-Y-L-O-T-O-M-Y
"Yes," she said. I had spelled it right!?
9/7/2016
Some drivers really make me want to scream.
I’ll do some little thing that they don’t like.
They honk or give the finger. It’s so mean.
I’d like to yell at them to take a hike.
Of course I can’t say THAT. They’re in a car.
What makes them all such grouches anyway?
Are they upset to have to travel far
from home to work and then back home each day?
Sometimes I need to get into a lane
to take an exit. They won’t let me pass!
Why can’t they yield? They drive me so insane.
Sometimes it seems they give their car MORE gas.
Yes, they do it with deliberation!
I guess some people like to be unkind.
What’s the matter with consideration?
A driver that’s polite is hard to find.
I’ll see some poor guy make a little blunder.
I think – that could be me! It’s no big deal.
Then someone honks like they’re the God of Thunder.
They need to keep their cool behind that wheel.
I say this in my mind to those who honk
for no good reason: What is done is done!
A honk as “afterthought” is like a bonk
to someone’s head. I pray they’ve got no gun!
You see it on the news sometimes – road rage.
And sometimes people die because of that.
Be careful on the road. it’s hard to gauge
a person’s mental state. Don’t be a brat!
Jan. 1, 2022
for charles messina's King-Size Bull Crap Poetry Contest
I’d never heard those words before;
Their meanings were elusive.
To those upon the stage, such facts
Were merely inconclusive.
Derivations made it clear
Which letter groups were needed.
Concentration ruled – distractions
Vanished or receded.
Finalists competed with
Such fierce determination,
Anything but winning
Was a sorry consolation.
Yet gamely each one proved to be
Supportive and connected;
Though rivals, they could empathize
When someone was ejected.
I stayed up past eleven
‘Til the battle was concluded,
Delighting in the quiet joy
The champion exuded.
How wonderful that in this hi-tech
World where we are dwelling,
We still admire those rare souls
Who so excel at spelling!
Ilene Bauer (http://primetimerhyme.blogspot.com)
Such a grammar fiend, is this thing called punctuation.
A huge plethora of mind numbing aggravation.
Commas, periods and parenthesis too;
colons and semicolons; what's a writer to do?
In spelling, I used to make only straight A's.
Now I blow up spell check most every day.
I could avoid punctuation; write only Haiku,
but I'm no quitter; to myself I must be true.
My teacher always told me, "If you can't spell a word,
look it up in the dictionary." Silliest thing I ever heard.
All the words are there in column after column,
but, how to look them up, if you can't even spellum?!
"Playing the other day, I behold this man
Sky was cloudy and grey, he could use a fan
Held a locket. I think he wanted to sell
To fill his wallet and pocket to excel
Listened to a small voice, this looks like a crime
I made a choice, found a coin and flip a dime
Putting faith and trust it landed on its head
These peeps will do good, nothing happened." I said
“Gee, what transpired next?” said Rupee
“See, was during a spelling bee
Teacher, Miss Miller called on me
Asked me speller the word reptile
Being a little juvenile
Said with the happiest smile
I gave the words in a fast spree
Saying, ‘assume’
She frowned, and my A is a D
And that is my hyperbole”
Updated 5/14/2019
Student Procrastinator
Grammar
Crammer
Multiple Casino Guy
Scrambler
Gambler
Casino Loser
Lamer
Gamer
A Playboy’s Malady
Fun guy
Fungi
Slasher in Prison
Knifer
Lifer
April 27, 2021