Best Strong Suit Poems
She wore a whole suit of armor around her heart and soul that nobody could come through to cause her fear, suffering, and pain, she wouldn't have it let alone permit it to happen so she never let people see to the heart of her soul.
She first started wearing the suit of armor as a child, she continued to keep it polished and strong all of these years it had worked like a charm. Family, and friends all thought they knew her heart, soul, thoughts, and feelings.
But the truth of the matter is nobody really knew her at all, they were just trying to tell her how to think and feel because they thought they were so smart. She thought it was funny at how they assumed that they knew her when in truth they didn't, all thanks to her polished strong suit of armor that she wore.
She believed with her whole heart and soul that nobody would ever come past her polished strong suit of armor that she wore, she found out just how naive she really was one day.
It just wasn't anybody no this person was the only person who has always had her heart from their very first meeting of each other, she continued to try and keep her suit of armor polished and strong even though she was with her love.
But to her greatest surprise and dismay, she didn't notice anything wrong until it was way too late, her love had already put a crack in her polished strong suit of armor that she wore to protect herself with. No matter how much she tried she couldn't fix the crack in her polished strong suit of armor that she wore, the damage was already done and her love had already seen through to her heart and soul.
By: Vera Rice!
How was it that I knew so little?
Your constant admonishments seemed so brittle.
But, as time progressed from day to day
I began to realize, that was just your way.
You taught me things I knew not
and in all the years, it was a lot.
Naivete' was my strong suit,
with a little stupidity thrown in to boot.
We came often at times to loggerheads
You often chimed, "Something above your neck must be dead".
Yet, you helped me to carve out a life for me and mine
and took me to places where you knew I would shine.
You were patient with me in your own way
as I struggled to learn from day to day.
You acted as father, brother, friend and boss,
It was only today, that I learned of my loss.
No longer will I hear your soliloquy,
The depth of your loss, I have yet to see.
For you were my Mentor in times of fun and strife,
I will carry your memory...the rest of my life.
in fond memory of: Dick Clemmensen
written...10/31/15
I apologize for what you will see here
I sometimes find myself fighting with meter
And from time to time,
The lines, they don’t rhyme,
But cut me some slack, it’s not like I’m charging you to read this, okay?
Apologies, I’ve come back to grips,
And I looked up some limerick tips.
I’ve picked up some wisdom
On structure and rhythm
But sticking to the rules has never been a really strong suit of mine.
The ambassador to the wayward king
But female and foreign and former
Formerly loved and revered by he
Now troubled with the queen of late
Then ambassador, Now advisor to the king
Bitter laughter from the advisor chamber
How should the advisor know what to do
Doing, never a strong suit of hers
Understanding, though, the key to advice
Nevertheless, she stays in the chamber
Well I guess my words are good
But never make worthy
I looked all things through
But no class for me
Grammatical nightmare
Capitalization is a strong suit
Life is never fair
If you were never told
Glad you made it here
So contest results I wont see
I am not typical of any before
No time spent sharing poetastraphy
That just speaks the way of the world
Rise for thy self die for all
there is no other way
If diplomacy shall evolve
As for me I'm not here today
I'm hanging with Gabriel, Peter and Paul
but my truth is found with john.
wreathed tercets
fly away statistics
fly to the hindermost
fly out of return reach
out of death and despair
out of talents wasted
out of worthless put downs
put down mortality
put down those hapless odds
put down hopeless abuse
hope is Harsha's restraint
hope is what gives her joy
hope is her one strong suit
one in her parents' eyes
one who will change her world
one victor named Harsha
Ideals are not my strong suit
Living with a sense of being that is quite acute.
Only straying to find an easier way
Very rarely being the prey.
Everyone says you are less than me
Yelling at me to let you be.
Offering you myself is my only plus
Unfair is the wall they put between us.
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Note: The Acrostic form is really hard for me for some reason.
I guess I'll have to practice more. ~_~
Writing in free verse,
and cracked knuckles on keyboards
with letters composed to make words
into poetry.
"We love your work!" they say.
"Oh my, your such a hopeless romantic." they say.
"Poetry is your strong suit." they say.
The pretty girls smile and recognize the words that flow
of paper with ink black like a dark soul.
They say that I have talent,
that I was born to write,
but they don't know where that inspiration comes from;
they never know because they never ask.
They just compliment and walk on...
Writing in free verse,
the blue poet hard at work,
another poem to feed the audience's hunger for starving words,
held close to their lips; lit cigarettes and beer bottles,
while razorblades hold close to my wrists,
and a loaded gun, one in the chamber, pointed to my temple.
As, I sit and write another poem,
I slowly look and wonder about those people,
who sit and listen but don't hear.
I sit and wonder about those people, those faces, those ways,
each and every smile and sigh,
every girl's tear and every man's silence- and for a moment
I wonder deep in my head, as I click the hammer back, cock the pistol,
pull the trigger... 'whose they?'
...and then I finish the poem,
dotting those endless i's with endless, salty teardrops.
5/9/14
On the Verge
Every hand is pocket bound,
eyes lifted from the TV’s hallowed glow.
Breath is released in a low sigh;
worming, squirming, squat.
Thrust out of bounds in tandem,
nothing is done alone.
You’re seen, you’re sought, you’re it,
maybe you need a pill?
Vomit is on the upswing,
visual stimulation overload.
Brain cells can’t sort this one out,
tears are dry as bones.
Your neck is turned full sideways,
the punch is coming on fast,
Quick reaction is not your strong suit,
fall to the floor, break like glass.
What is happening to this picture,
not set, not neat, not bound?
Houses, cars, children, stores,
benchmarks strewn by the way
You’re in need of a clutch hit,
your world is stumbling on.
Detachment, resentment, complacence,
smug on your rug as a bug.
Happiness is a gun over-warmed,
second hand shits on a turd.
Feet of clay encased in cement,
your vomit is now overboard.
11/11/17
The day is coming very soon
We will see each other
Probably around noon.
I wake up one day
Flesh and soul intertwine
For I will be there to stay.
This writing shall be put to life
Everything we hope and dream
Fill the white pages ever and the afterlife.
Aspiration is my strong suit to be free
Scars shall be my wings
Underneath is a shell of what used to be me.
Are snowdrops in April gone
Or salted sun in Winter still
None of these matters, see you anon.
(C)2017 Maricris Cabrera
Note: Inspired by Michael Buble's, Home. It has been and always be my favorite. Thank you.
(***warning ungapatchka language ahead***)
Flush with rage the spouse will become allied
if reference made how she buzzfeeds disorder
altercation especially likely if divorce blurted
making me wish to experience (immediately)
bartered bride, when mine pointed finger doth
nonverbally chide markedly appalling untidy
predilection she blithely exhibits woeful scant
interest to maintain can-do spirit affecting plea
zing aesthetic humble abode ofttimes slacking
off cleaning trail of abomination, which talent
includes unwittingly cultivating qua primordial
soup possibly duplicating conditions when life
originated (bajillion years ago) on planet Earth
witnessed courtesy think gummy, groovy, gooey,
gloppy, (nippy, nap, noopy) protoplasmic slimy
oozing blob (starring Steve McQueen) amoeba
like swallowing small towns with names such as
Chester Springs, Downingtown, Phoenixville,
& Royersford hungering, hinting, and hankering
to hasten home hearing Harris harridan hooligan
hoopla conniption purportedly linked into order
issued courtesy board of health for hen pecking
wife to hustle & make house beautiful for Biden
(accompanied with hit parade) announcing (yea)
at long last Republican administration overhaul
which fête yours truly slated to host determined
(weeks ago), thus necessitating legally wedded
counterpart to apply elbow grease in tandem to
render spic & span where unsightly food scraps,
soiled clothes, scattered papers, et cetera strewn
helter skelter, the disarray the culmination of 4+
years occupying these digs in Schwenksville, Pa.
Upon being told "get the place in ship shape order"
she went ballistic like bupkis fired out me gluteus
maximus, (whereat I couldn't help but think ICBM)
yea, an incongruous thought as she rattled vitriolic,
colorful expletives coarse language enough would
make sailor blush shutting his yapper uttering before
he even uttered "shiver me timbers," hence clatter
and din created cacophonous noise as my fair lady
affected one woman siege warfare as pots and pans
flew pell mell thru air while I took refuge in fallout
shelter unused since total mortal kombat destroyed
major swath of webbed wide world, global debacle
our dear leader triggered (when in pensive mood) he
lobbed weapons of mass destruction after being axed
to "go back home" meaning his mother planet Uranus.
Her family named her Julie
She was brought by Heavens grace
Never thought that they could have a child
So Heaven’s her nickname
She was perfection at its finest
Said a young boy to this girl
He knew that he'd found Heaven
Told her she was his whole world
She blushed and smiled, without worry
Knowing trust was his strong suit
Said there's something you should know
That I'll only share with you
She said Heaven is my nickname
It's known only to a few
He never doubted for a minute
Said she was the living proof
I just want to talk about Heaven
Her pretty eyes and auburn hair
Its not the name her daddy gave her
But it's the one she loves to hear
While perfection eludes many
Her smile and soul keeps shining through
I love you more than life itself
He said there's Heaven…and then there's you
Finding Heaven isn't easy
Most are lost and can't be found
Yet this girl was all the proof he'd need
He thought she walked on hallowed ground
I just want to talk about Heaven
Her pretty eyes and auburn hair
Its not the name her daddy gave her
But it's the one she loves to hear
He didn't need to find forgiveness
From the love that he had found
For it went on ever endless
Till they laid him in the ground
He just wanted to talk about Heaven
Said he'd wait for her up there
Your the namesake of the place, where there are no mistakes
And eternity we'll share
He just talked about Heaven........
Yet I found as I pursued
We all have qualities we need to work on
This is God making us strong
Able to stand
When many think we can't
Stored us safely within his lot
We never gave up
Courage included
The lions concluded
God people are light
We shine brightly through the night
Look upon the sky
For he is our eye
Joy to the world
Through this girl
Hearts shall grow bigger
Within his favor
Stand firm my dear
My love for you is always near
Never fear
Rejoice I AM here
the strong suit in this voice carries a tune,
echoes emphasized fills up the room,
speak to me...please,,in love and emotion,
but then the vibration would be shortened, and quickly forgotten in motion,
remembrance can come and be forgotten so quickly,
chords and tunes held in voice, memorized emotions spoke freely,
pouring out in prayer while singing in song,
holds onto those words and in love they last long,
they say, "its not over until the fat lady sings",
it's not said "it's all over until the fat lady speaks."
It breathes its briny breath
In and out, in and out
Butterfly kisses across the shore
Violent blows against the cliffs
Pearls of ocean spray leap off of the caps
Twirling deftly through the air
Like a ballerina being thrown against the high wind
Hot and cold, hot and cold
Temperament never a strong suit
An icy shoulder turned towards the land
Or the fiery breath from the depths
Howling in anger and pain
Like a small child, a slave to its emotions
Always a screaming toddler
Or a sour old man
Never one to please
A young teenager
And always, always rebelling
But if you turn your back for a moment
The truth will reveal itself
Because when it thinks you are not looking
It tends to behave and serenity claims the world.