Best Undertook Poems


Premium Member Just For Giggles

For those who don't read blogs or know of Jan's successful first book, I've written a limerick for her and included it in my comment on her blog. She's included her interview in a podcast. I was asked to post my limerick here as well.  If anyone would like to write a limerick in honor of her first publication, please join in and send me a limerick, or even a note to congratulate her.  Thank you.

Jan, our Queen of Poop has a sexy voice
Crowned as Limerick Queen, she is our choice
But oh my lordy
Some are quite bawdy
Book sales are good ~ she's getting a Rolls Royce
                                  by Lin Lane

Jan's poems are clever and funny too
Full of bawdy lines and some about poo
Comedy at its best
Her poems will attest
Read" A giggle a day" to not feel blue
                                by Tania Kitchin

No rolls Royce or Winnebago camper van
A sedia gestatoria, for Jan
One with a floating loo
For outdoor number two
Carried shoulder high around the Isle of Man
                               by David Kavanagh

LONG LIVE THE QUEEN 
Jan Allison has written her first book
It was a mammoth task she undertook
Preview it on amazon
I'll guarantee you'll want one
I've read a bit and my whole body shook.
                              by Tom Cunningham

Jan nixed the idea of getting a Rolls
She opted to put wheels on toilet bowls
Her farts serve as a horn
She ignores those who scorn
And she never gets stopped to pay bridge tolls
                               by Mark Koplin

In a bathroom where tales tend to unfold 
And humerous secrets are often told
There’s a plop and a cheer 
Laughter rings loud and clear 
In porcelain chambers poems are sold
                               by Arthur Vaso

Poetry Soup’s Queen of Poop
has made herself a news scoop!
She published her book
and that’s all it took.
A second book is now in the loop.
                              by Linda Alice Fowler

Congratulations Limerick queen Jan
A poetess who’s from the Isle of Man
Pleased your book is a hit
A giggle a day gift
From an hilarious comedian.
                   by Beryl Edmonds
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: undertook, friendship,
Form: Limerick

Premium Member Dreams Can Come True

At school I abhorred poetry
A poet I NEVER would be
But life dealt us a cruel blow
Hubby’s tests soon were to show

CANCER

Cancer is such a cruel disease
Since then life’s not been a breeze
When he faced the surgeon’s knife
It dramatically changed my whole life

WRITING

T’was the first time I picked up my pen
Over three thousand poems since then
Covid lockdown came so I undertook
My dreams to work on my first book

CREATING

366 poems, one for each day of the year
Only a fool like me would have the idea
The idea is finally coming to fruition
My editor’s superb, a creative magician

PUBLISHING

Dreams to publish at last will come true
Once editing and artwork are through
Then I’ll self publish my very first book
Silly poems, I hope you’ll take a look!

Dreaming Poetry Contest

06/10/23
Categories: undertook, dream, poetry,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member You'Re My Inspiration - Dedicated To My Amazing Mum

How do I begin to describe you
Such an incredible person 
Yet even now you doubt your abilities
You lost your own mum when you were eight  - you never ever got over it
You worked all your life, started off by working in a bank for almost 20 years
Then when you had children you ran a village shop from home
But also helped run the smallholding where we lived
You even had an evening job to bring in extra income
Then you began working in a care home and that had a big impact on you
At 50 you changed direction in life and studied and trained to be a nurse
No mean fete with two children to bring up
When you retired you continued to work in a care home
Then you undertook charity work every week still continuing well into your eighties
In fact you were on your way to work at the charity shop when you fell
You were found lying in the street …
Two bleeds on your brain and over three months in hospital
How you pulled through I will never know
Yet you battled on and are still with us still
Now you have short-term memory issues and are going blind
Fate struck a cruel blow when dad was diagnosed with terminal cancer
He passed away in February
Your lifelong partner for nearly sixty years
Your world turned upside down and now you live in a care home
We are selling the family home -  gosh I find it tough emotionally
I know we have lost dad but I feel like I am losing you too
You are helping me clear out things from the house 
Items you have known and loved for many years
Sadly we can’t keep everything
It must be so so difficult for you, yet you never complain
I just want you to know how much I love you
How much you inspire me
We only have one mum and I am so lucky I have you still

Written for a previous contest but too late to be submitted
Placed in Judy Konos' Contest - tell us about your mom
18th September 2015
Categories: undertook, mother, mum, tribute,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Spontaneity

Truth be told 
truth behold,
This I see 
is how all unfolds

In plain sight 
not in darkness 
like here tonight
I see the sky 
ask myself why 
there’s no reply,
No mothership 
to take a trip 

And… oh my god
I’m overwhelmed!
by majesty … 
constellations
partnerships
A crescent moon 
beckoning me 
imploring me 
to look harder, 
The answer’s here 
before my eyes 
not in disguise

(Moon)

I’m here for you
at this moment 
let’s synchronise,
Be here for me too
we are the same 
you have a mind 
I reflect the flame

The big guy 
is below horizons
elsewhere rising, 
draped in plasma 
I follow his lead
unerringly accede

We made you
and you make us 
by being here 
conscious aware,
we overlook 
you undertook 
to question why
But there is no lie

The truth’s blinding 
the truth’s binding 
so let it be 
Not always pretty
Not always loving 
Not always giving 
Not always taking 
never faking 
open and bare
Raw and gaping 

Man gives us reason 
we bring him seasons 
his path seems tough 
and never enough 
So thank you 
for looking up
come what may 
we shared a reflection

Go now brother 
we’ve seen the light,
Others did too tonight 
just not as bright
Categories: undertook, life, perspective, spiritual,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Serendipitous Passion

Written: April 29, 2024

                       ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What a riddle our love was!
we embarked on an ariose trip
with balmy stride, we undertook
Elysian and Empyreal it was
a blissful encounter
an idyllic peace is meant to be,
a serendipitous path
crystal levels of azure size,
our spirits entwined
before we ever knew
we're infatuated now,
It rings with truth.

One's pulse quickens
In every kismet,
I never expected to feel this way
I have proof of that now,
In your grip, my soul resides,
and I will hold on forever
my love is growing stronger,
you are aware of the flow of time.

Our love is euphoric,
every day, I express my felicity,
for love unforeseen,
I was bestowed with a gift,
you unexpectedly invaded my life,
It spun my world around, 
wreaking pandemonium
While we were together.
In awe, my heart soars, spellbound.
love is unexpected and divine. 
everything came to fruition
you delight me and warm my heart,
our hearts beat in sync.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: undertook, analogy, appreciation, love,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Gold Dredging

Gold Dredging

                                                 Early morning first light
                                 Camped on the rugged, mountainous terrain
                             Out of our warm sleeping bags and tent we crawl
                        To the smells of pine and clean fresh air of the mountain
                              Wood starts a sizzling, spitting, crackling campfire
                             For early morning hot coffee and a warm breakfast
                                         I Dress in tee shirt and swim suit,
                                               Hubby is in his wet suit

                                           We walked down to the creek
                              Pull the dredge into the creek and get it started
                            When he hits bedrock where gold might be hiding
                                    I stand beside the sleuth watching the
                                           Gravel run over the riffles
                                       I make sure the riffles stay clean
                                                So the heavy gold
                                  Will deposit behind them and on the mat
                               I see the flash of color and utter excitement
                                     I yell, “We've hit gold,” impatient
                                       With my tweezers and small jar
                                              For safekeeping and
                                               I keep on cleaning


                  When the day is done, tired, wet, and weary as a drowned rat
                                 We clean the miners mat into a bucket
                   By the campfire we sit and pan our gold from the black sand
                       After the hard day’s work we undertook, it is wonderful
                              To see all the sparkling gold dust in my pan

                                     The same warm excited feeling
                                     I felt when my husband placed
                                 My gold wedding band on my finger

12/27/2014
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: undertook, emotions, together, work,
Form: Free verse


Predictable

What were the odds they did not know?
So many, many years ago, according to the records 
they had left in there, it seems the answer was, quite low.

How strange the paradox of nature, how unpredictable
the outcome of its selections, how some variations 
with the best chance to survive
became the human species,
became nature reflecting 
on itself, 
yet could not understand
that to stop adapting to its environment,
instead to change it, exploit it, a tipping point 
would be reached, a no going back extinction event 
would be unleashed, and adaptation would no longer be 
an option.

Oh the stories we have found! The art fantastic as the sounds
of sea on shore, birds awakening with the golden dawn and
the scent, still present in its capsule, of an ancient rose.

How primitive their science, yet how predictable
the future was for them in small steps undertook with effort:
they knew slide rule soon and to the second
when Apollo would return from the dark side of the moon;
they knew nano chip soon and to the second
when and where an eclipse of the sun would pass at noon;
they knew too soon and to what degree
rising temperatures and rising seas foretold their doom.

What were the odds they did not know
how precious was this Eden, how rare an oasis in a vast unfriendly space,
when they sealed this vault five million years ago?

(Should this poem go in the vault?  If so,
we have ten years left and then we'll know
and they'll know, too . . . we knew.)

- original poem written on the 5th of December in the year 2019 CE
Predictable poetry contest sponsored by Nina Parmenter
Categories: undertook, angst, art, bereavement, environment,
Form: Free verse

I Ploughed Myself Into a Hazy Dream

I ploughed myself into a hazy dream 
The depths of which I dared not leave 
I did not then but now I see 
The truths that stand before me 

A cathartic cause that they undertook 
That echos through the ages 
Stories told by mystic men
Of queens and kings and sages 

It’s time too pay the devils due 
The pain inside me rages 
I wrote my death into a book 
It’s found within these pages
Categories: undertook, adventure, dark, death, deep,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Handyman

Ma and Pa dwelled in their brick rancher for many years.
There they reared their kids, seeing lots of joys and tears.
Pa was proud of his home and kept it in good condition.
He did lots of repairs but at times caused some demolition!

Pa thought himself handy with hammer, nail and saw,
But Ma wasn't so sure, suffering through many a flaw!
"I can repair anything that needs fixin'", he would crow!
"Why hire so-called experts, besides, they cost a lot of dough!"

A leak occurred under the sink and Pa knew just what to do.
When the job was done, water was hip deep, the plumbing all askew!
Pa swallowed his pride and called the plumber to fix the mess.
Ma smiled that knowing smile, her amusement hard to suppress!

His next project was to paint the kitchen, bath and dining room.
He splattered paint on everything, causing Ma to fume!
Ma wanted him to hang a picture for the bedroom's decoration.
He missed the nail, hitting his thumb, loosing a raging imprecation!

Though Pa tackled each job with intense determination,
Seemed like every job he undertook ended in frustration.
"Honey, maybe you should leave the fixin' for the experts to do,
And take up buildin' bird houses - that's a great hobby to pursue!"

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Categories: undertook, funny
Form: Rhyme

The Stranger Man 5

Before I tramp the course of my cause,
A family indeed we were, I and Kole
But I short of years from the other.
Only by words we keep memory of
A deceased mother like morning dew
Sought for by the gloaming. We knew
Only a father whose right hand does
The masculine labour and his left hand
Undertook the feminine chore
And grew us up from tendril to maturity.
Nothing moves the heart as do feelings,
The impression creates of a moving mountain.
But with one mind accept I all that be
And live a life devoid of melodrama.
Behind laughter abide the trail of tears
And in my tears was laughter’s bare face.
Work, leisure, sickness, health, joy, sadness
Nothing so transporting or so flummoxing
As to heave my heart off the balance of life.
As an ass, it does not sigh over its burdens
And the camel do not complain of thirst
Through the drought of the desert.

By Fate’s design we lost Kole who had
Found natural escapism from life in death
Whereof the dead cannot forgo to return.
I, left with a father I pampered and cared for
Always after his heels and by his lounge
And all lips hailed the good son of a father.

Time takes precedence to test all values
And fate takes no cognizance of kinship.
Every cord has been broken by birth.
Day by day is the wake of another day
And again it would go back to slumber.
Harmattan made the land to be bard,
It would smile while the sun is out but 
Only to become moody with drops.
Playing, gaming, travelling, interacting,
Have excused the drabness of existence.
Below the earth is the hue of brown
And above the sky is the hue of grey.
I have left my father and home into 
The city to make a fortune and a name
For they all have queried a son cannot
Always be a honeybunch to a father
But must seek to be a sovereign man.

Now I traverse through the fleeting land
All my goods and affiliates lay aside. 
Being an heir, I am no heir to fleeting goods.
Why throw away the bad grains
And then store up the chaff?
I will walk through the sands of time until 
I halt in my course to become sand.
A father I commit to the hands of nature
And goodwill of kinsmen and friends.
Categories: undertook, adventure, earth, journey, life,
Form: Dramatic Monologue

Lost Generation

We the victim's of incompetence 
We the pawns of vain experiments
Imprisoned by oligarchic, social engine.
Our pains, reflected by gluttonous pride.
Fermenting in black boil bubbling greed
Modern slavery in it's prime, glistening 
like polished diamond shine.
All pretentious, phoney entrapment,
lurking through time,  the ideal system, 
for a criminal eye, the perfect crook, 
filtered on a system it built, it impressed, 
and we undertook, now just mere 
puppets,
Upon the ladder of fingers,
The shadow composer casting the melody 
of subjugated illusion, laughing at ease, 
gazing upon their resolution.
A famine of needs and desires, tortured 
by the selected lot, who mock as we rot, 
in the mould around the bars of our cot. 
The misleading consequence of 
innocence, of ignorance, of vulnerability.
The digital web of deception, ripples in 
shuddered glee, it's next victim 
screaming, and then hushed silently 
among those chambers of conformity, an 
commodity given a number and then 
freed, for some years.
Next it's taught to adhere to the 
requirement of 'our' society,
Pushed through  any resistance,
Your ADD, labeled and branded for all to 
see, your defunct from a higher form, an 
acceptable sense of reality, the easier 
chores of slavery,
and less material distraction, an extra 
penalty.
In the sinister sweating perversion,
The passive exodus that moves in night 
and day excursions, fossiled in a lava of 
weary confusion.
We are the lost Generation on a path we 
cannot see, in a destiny that isn't you and 
isn't me.
© Paul K K  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: undertook, life
Form: Dramatic Verse

Premium Member Journey To the West In the Tang Dynasty-N

As early as C.629 a Chinese monk Xuanzang of Jingtu temple 
Motivated by the poor quality of translations of Buddhist scripture
Undertook a hazardous journey to bring the original from India
Despite the border being closed at the time due to a war.

He travelled through Gansu, Qinghai and Tian Shan mountains
And crossed what we call Kyrgystan. Uzbekistan and Afghanistan
Reaching India in 630 and touring Indian subcontinent for 13 years
Visiting Buddhist sites and studying at ancient University of Nalanda.

He left India in 643 arriving in China in 646 with the scriptures
Establishing a monastery translating the scriptures he brought.
The spirit or third eye perceptions of Xuanzang to see the world
Was the true spirit, his body being the vehicle or craft merely.


=========================================

* Inspired by Spirit eye or third eye perception contest by Rick parise.
This poem is second one.
Categories: undertook, philosophy,
Form: Free verse

Where Art Sisyphus

Tis quite a beast of burden to bear atlas (shrug off not allowed)
Atlas shrugged an impossibility
tantamount to skinny dipping in the lock nest lagoon

Tantamount to shrugging Atlas off mine bony, 
   ill suited, widower wizened shoulders, 
would take naked fat chance in Fountain Head of virgin waters, 
   eddy fied with huge boulders 
which preliminary sketches to maintain pristine 
   (pure as Snow White's booty) kept in folders

when collaborative effort called, the fore mid able, 
   trio, sans state of the artists 
   (within their respective trades as writer
   fictional hero, and architect) 
   Ayn Rand, John Galt, and Howard Roark, 

   who undertook resplendent measures 
   affected resilient as omnipotent cable
   tub ring plenti kickstarting linkedin gatecrashers   
   to a snapchatting halt 
   instagramming, crowdsourcing, crowdfunding, 
   held at equivalent asper Bay of Pigs
   viz Pay of Bigs 

   (in this context identified as  
   (vudu trained stalwarts, petsmart outlook, 
   incorporating literary, metaphorical,   
   nautical staff comprising fable
sea Crete cure metamorphoses abilities, as failsafe method – 
   i.e., physically, instantaneously, architecturally rendering
   modus operandi capacity asper quick as blazing saddles
   (ponied up by young Frankenstein) 
   kept in fireproof stable,

   where at dextrous fingers ala hocus-pocus prestidigitation 
   which chiefly buoyantly ardently, and hardily drafted imp pier re: hull 
   rock hull impediment for shore also cast evil spells should 
   any foolish soul, who dared 
   to maneuver past the near blinding pier sing redoubt
   to access blue lagoon like watery oasis 
   shielded via reeking poor Island 
   (where an atomic rooster gargoyle shrouded parapet)
   buffeted the crashing waves against 
   the lock smooth as a glass table

whose wooden sea legs solidly affixed 
   to hip, hip hooray three chairs
inviting two story book heroes plus the author,  
   unfurling parchment scriptural roles invited ad lib flairs
since threat of category five hurricane 
 manifested took writer by surprise,

   thus requiring her to utilize cognitive gears
which necessitated modification of original plot,
   now bumped credos with religion 
   vis a vis engendering prayers.
Categories: undertook, absence, allegory, anxiety, deep,
Form: Free verse

Edison

I thought of a day sans the Sun
I thought of a night sans the light

All the times that I thought of the light
I thought of Edison!

Thomas Alva Edison-
The power house shed light in the direction of right
A total solution found dark to fight

Light, an innovation from the mind of a bright
A revolution only second to the Moon walk strait

All the times that,I look at the light
I see the tired face of the might
Edison bought time and time to come out of his plight

Light in the night-
In the way of Owl's and Bat's sight

Edison, a pupil the school refused to teach
Edison, a lessen the schools undertook to teach

Edison bore torch light to his mate,Henry Ford
To put his wheels of four on the road

On the day of TWO ELEVEN of his birth-
Don't switch off lights to bring dark
But switch on saying "EDISON" in honor to mark!
Categories: undertook, identity, light, miracle, native
Form: Light Verse

Many Lives Many Masters

I desire only Peace
But I must face the Truth here
He is numbered among them 
I look down at the campfires
He is lost in the vastness of their army
His tent is guarded by Warriors when he sleeps
He is such a coward
The thought of being hunted by such a man is a mystery
Like sticks builds spikes
Like words build men up 
Look in my eyes Sir
Now I look in your eyes
You are shocked your blood spills out
I drilled you in the heart
And send you to that path in the skys
May you wonder among the stars and never find your way
Thank You great Spirits for the Victory over death
He is coming like a theif in the night
As wise as a serpent as harmless as a dove
Men should always pray and not lose heart
If you feint in the day of adversary your strenght is small
Beware less her words be like an arrow that pierces A BIRDS LIVER
Only the strongest of men are killed by her
My words are from the Master
I did'nt come to bring Peace but a Sword
Look I see a prophet on the streets of New York
Yelling at the top of his lungs the end is near
I look up but the sky is'nt falling
Like that man could ever mess with the best
like my compositions could ever fall beneathe another man
Unless they swoop down to lift him up
Unless i fall to doubt
Like God ever favored him with better words
Better composed-Better said
But never spoken till he read my dictation
And it inspired him
It raised him out the writer's block 
That Powers blocked
Like Greater Powers opened and spoke
in many Voices and many Masters
The words in my heart crash down
I see poems wrote from my past life
The hand of the Queen on Her finger the purest Emarld when I kissed it
The Mission I undertook for her
I just suppose it was an erran of Life and Death
A Battle I would of never won without the help of my 3 friends
That are still here to this day
And I rode horseback from post horse to post horse
From Spain to France
And ran the last one so hard untill he fell and blood came out his mouth
A ran up the steps of the Palace in a cloud of dust
And the servants fed me and hung me back in the Queens closet
Believe me or not! I am the Queen's wingman!
Just like One of David's Mighty Men
My Hand is Frozen to the Sword
Categories: undertook, uplifting, voice, world,
Form: Free verse
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