Best Unlike Poems
A seagull cuts across Her harbor,
riding a thermal rising offshore.
And an ocean, ripe with primal smells,
splashes salty brine upon Her core.
She stands in solitude, gazing out
toward Her birth land and sister twins.
In Paris and Luxembourg Gardens,
they, too, hold their torches to the winds.
"Liberty Enlightening The World,"
She represents freedom and kinship.
And dubbed "The Statue of Liberty,"
She evokes two nations' friendship.
A gift to the U.S.A. from France,
she symbolizes faith in Mankind.
And this copper-clad lady's a friend,
holding her torch high for all to find.
At her feet lies a broken shackle
denoting freedom from oppression.
And wearing the crown of seven seas,
She displays a regal expression.
Greeting ships in the New York harbor
She's shod in sandals, unlike a queen.
And poised with dignity and grandeur
She stands tall and proud; in robes of green.
Feet firmly planted
Face turned to the sun
Glowing like the daffodils
Growing wild along the road
Privacy tenaciously holds on to freedom and seclusion.
It is soul-spirited and viciously fight like pirates to obtain.
Beautiful front yards displayed to the world with hundreds,
Maybe thousands of dollars spent on flowering plants, shrubs
And trees for many wholesome views by a passersby.
But when it comes to viewing and entering private spaces one
ought not,
The pirate in owners rise, sword in hand, to protect rightful
seclusive space.
Its not "Ship Ahoy", climb aboard!
But though privacy is allowed, even by law,
Only a little kitty meowing with a tail bushy tail,
May authentically snoop around and even be fed
Beyond that protected space.
For poor kitty is not a copycat and authentic in his
or her own way.
One can depend on kitty and rely that mice would be
trustworthily chased or caught.
Privacy like piracy cause some yards to be fenced at the sides of
the house keeping outsiders out.
Copycats unlike authenticity, grapple to falsely fake, disguise or
Take and may even make it their very own!
Contest: Privacy is like piracy yet copy cats are unlike authenticity
Poetry Contest Deadline: Thursday, December 15, 2016
Sponsored by: Ir0nic ZiNk
Long long ago,
when the world was good,
David the prince,
he used to amuse himself
by using his guitor.
He used to sit alone,
under the tree,
enjoying good music
in his leisure time.
It was a sign of peace,
freedom and joy,
unlike today.
It is so unlike you,
To wear that color blue.
Definitely so unlike you,
To shop for things that are new.
What has gotten into you,
To make you do the things you do?
Because it's so unlike you,
To get such a fancy hair-do.
I've never seen quite a smile,
Lingering for such a long while.
No, I've never heard you sing,
As light as the angel's soft wings.
Nor seen a wonderful change in you,
Dancing so lively as, now, you do.
Is it something in the air,
From a cosmic planet up there?
That has changed you forever,
Making you happier than ever.
Or could this be true love,
That, now, has changed you so?
The moon is here at night,
In the sky above,
Which is surely a beautiful sight
But is totally unlike my love .
To the moon, my love people compare
Why? I don’t know.
What they have in common I’m not aware,
No similarities they do show.
The moon stays always in the sky,
It is something at which I can only stare
Which to meet it’ll take long even if I fly,
But whenever I reach out for my love she’s always there.
My love is priceless and crystal clear,
Doesn’t have dark spots as the moon does,
About her nothing bad I think or hear,
Her heart is pure and from always was.
She’s cheerful, not so lifeless
Like the dead moon in the sky.
Having her around is bliss,
And for her I’m even ready to die.
She speaks to me, night and day
Cheers me up, sings a song.
She isn't like the silent moon far away,
Her words keep me strong.
In the darkness as the moon she doesn’t stay
By her presence my life flows.
To describe her, I have no words to say,
She lightens every path she goes.
As the moon is replaced by the sun when night is done,
Even if the sun rays are as radiant as they can be.
My love can’t be replaced by anyone,
Nothing is more radiant than my love to me.
Unlike the moon, of losing her I fear,
To not hurt her I take care,
I stand by her throughout the year,
The thought of staying without her I can’t bear.
I’m happy that the moon is unlike my love
And I hope no one’s is like it too,
I shout aloud to the moon above,
“My love is not like you!”
-This poem is Written by me and also posted on funinfinite.com
7/23/22
Unlike anyone
Can't be worried about none
Got to get it done
As well as have fun
Doing it all underneath the moon and sun
Took losses but mostly won
Carrying a gun
Weight on my shoulders light as a feather or a ton
Regarding me, ladies often shun
So I just move on and hit another home run
All night and day long
I remain strong
Despite feeling lost like a stray dog
Not all have something nice to say
She won't give me the time of day
No matter, I'll find a way
Without there being a price to pay
You won't, but believe me
This all seems to be
Somewhat cheesy
And far too easy
People remaining sleazy
It's nothing new for our species
The tires wearing down, getting a little screechy
Another glass of alcohol instead of Fiji
Feeling alien like E.T.
Far from peachy
Can't get any time back
Girl you got something about you, I like that
But you're always trying to strike fast
Staying cold like an arctic ice cap
I can't even get you to reply back
Left me high and dry in less than five flat
At this point I laugh
With much of this I could do away
I'm hungover, but I don't need to recuperate
I still show up and work through the day
Then I rejuvenate
Nothing but the truth I state
What I do, you can't duplicate
With you, I tried to communicate
But you just wanted to mutilate
Regardless, I got to do it now, not in a future date
Respect to the Holy Mother
She's always trying to throw me under
In hopes that I will only suffer
Among all these trophy hunters
Seeing mostly colors
Still a lonely er
What ere were warm, inviting open doors,
To this man maudlin and defeated kind,
Unsure, frightened, his dog-tail tucked behind,
He now finds shut, keys lost at far off shores.
Asked of voyage, on adverse winds he whines,
Given a choice from a pair of evils,
He chooses both— he who to doubt inclines,
One sure can’t go wrong with his choice of ills.
Here’s him— lion’s gait with vigour and vim,
He minds no doors getting shut on his face
And looks a sure shot like a tennis ace,
Belief in him bouncing like rising cream,
All odds-against ciphered, game on a deuce,
And a shot that turns all don’ts unto dos!
_____________________________________________
Poet’s note: “To a pessimist, his opportunities look like difficulties.
To an optimist, the difficulties are like opportunities.”
I think it was Harry Truman who said this.
This Sonnet takes off from what he said.
Sonnets | 10.09.2012, revised April 2022 |
Breathing depression since my birth
Providence one day whispered in ear
Thoughts itself turned face to mirth
Followed the witch leaving back fear
Reverted the opponent’s good time
Noises kept darkness lit to proceed
Future assures only power no pine
Horny lady plotted map to succeed
Mischievous figure looked so divine
The lessons like prophesy of delight
From nobody to a regime of mine
Thy chapters taught scheming fight
Sinister eyes but transforming my life
Dire alluring acts meant fun no strife!
There's no bizarre wind
That disperses the frozen clouds,
And yet every naked tree
Makes horrendous sounds;
No stars rise from the dark sea,
lmoonlight is absent, it feels cold.
The reefs aren't of soft silver,
They miss the moody moon
Over the deserted lagoon
And the harsh wind of winter;
Many unhappy lovers
Stare from lit windows
covered with glittering frost...
They dream of pretty snow
And chestnuts that roast
To uplift a spirit that's low.
It's a frigid October night,
Cymnies puff with smoke,
Infants cling to mothers:
Tender and gracious scenes
That even Rafael would love
To paint by dim candlelight.
If his interest is rather small,
Prospective may also fail;
His work of ideas so genial
will be put off for days,
And instead of painting
graceful and divine faces,
unwillingly he'll paint those
Cast In the depths of Hell
If this is a night unlike others,
Why wolves hide in dark caves
And refuse to gather fleeing
The spectral darkness that makes
Their skin shiver under warm fur.
Perhaps they feel lost thinking
Of the adventure it won't spur,
Of the howling that won"t occur.
Then all fearful humans might plot
Including me who terribly shakes
Wishing that no October night
Would allow the presence of demons,
Of creepy creatures that seem myths.
Written on 10/6/2016
I showed that it wasn't true.
A beautiful life full of sadness,
it's weird but I like it.
I suppose I should learn from
my mistakes and look frequently
at my facebook biography.
But I can't get it out of my head.
I don't understand how I can be happy now
and sad now. it's strange, Inside my heart,
I keep asking, "Why me? Why me always?"
Heartbreak caused by abandonment by another,
I always have the best of intentions when I plan,
but on the other side, they want to kill me.
One wish is all that
is required to be simply commiting oneself
to that dream so unreachable by hands,
that leave streaks of hope
on someone's face
so improvised by time;
we can make our fates and wait,
but others are followed
by impredictable luck...
that they conjure a oath,
so obdurate, to obliterate crime!
Unlike the changeable seasons,
the human heart turns its attention
to easy and obtainable things:
being so unremorseful and oblivious...
lurking where dangers lie;
knowledge seems
a primitive belief,
unhesitantly swallowed by
an unperspicacious pessimism...
to justify their criticism,
enough to throw foolisness into action...
when their pique should die!
They should see generosity
as an act of kindness and dignity,
not a demonstration of weakness;
martyrs, saints and ordinary people
felt love and openly showed it...
can they follow in their holy footsteps?
Unlike the changeable seasons,
every intricate landscape
takes on its own diverse shape,
obeying a law so orderly;
we human beings
premidate a future without a plan,
and vainly glorifying ourselves...
ingnoring any premonition!
We turn ourselves into a deity,
thinking to be so invincible...
defying,crushing everyone
and everything...to reach,
without sweat or obstacles,
an unearned reward which
can be so horribly futile!
unlike a common bride
she featured a turquoise veil
there were hydrangeas in her hair
her groom adored her even more now
Love is unlike the game of chess,
as time moves on it matters less,
in absence, fonder grows the heart
of someone else less far apart.
The pressure fades upon the will,
and like a blue remembered hill
idealised in childhood ways
is bare remembered nowadays.
Emotions stray and gravitate
to other souls when time grows late
and vows once made with ease are broke,
"I love you" with fresh glibness spoke.
Is this the way it ends for us,
no bang, no whimper, mess or fuss;
just simple gasps, forgotten sighs
and flecks of storm cloud in our eyes.
THE TWO UNLIKE-POLE ANALOGY
Analogically, this simplicity of poles might communicates
extensive comparison of things life usually complicate.
Just as the tale of "magno magnets",
Like-poles repulsively repels even off a border
and unlike-poles abnormally attract one another.
The north pole of two magnets are set asunder;
Opposite poles of two magnets attract each other,
but the like-poles are overly at loggerheads,
Similitude to electric charges which postulate same rules:
Like-charges repel, and unlike-charges attract.
This theory sums up the summary of a proven fact.
The irony of life is, two different souls are match-made,
We're bedazzled with such common rarity that doesn't fade.
It's sporadic to have two people with same traits
or cosmic (birthday) twins becoming soul mates.
By taking a leaf out of the analogy of unlike-poles,
attraction is established and so is unlike souls.
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Form: Rhymes
Copyright©January,2023.