Best Unskilled Poems
Enter the Everest that devastates
as he never ever rests and demonstrates
his quick wit picnic of traits that place
with lickety split flicks on the page
the tricks of a contortionist wrist that emits embers at pace
as he commits and performs on the centre stage
with the impact of a storm from the biblical age
the act of an adorned prolific rampage.
Irresistible talent abundantly apparent
you thought you'd witnessed
ability but until now you hadn't
when the rest in the business
appear to be unskilled
and transparent
as their best rhymes diminish
right here to be unfulfilled
and redundant
thus divested of finesse
while it's clear to see you're thrilled
in this moment.
Categories:
unskilled, slam, smart, word play,
Form:
Rhyme
It's complicated
The way she looks at him
Not the way it used to be
When he had held her gaze
She had expected to love him all of her days
Had walked around in that lover's daze
Not aware of his cheating ways
His hiding and deception
An unskilled master of self protection
She discovered the reason for the alienation of his affection
All the small clues that led to his detection
Making her doubt herself
Not wanting to believe his indescretion
It was easier imagining relational perfection
Without him she thinks she has no life
Her identity tied to being his wife
Yet now she wishes
imagines
Gutting him with a knife
much better being a widow
Than a cheaters wife
So she looks at him with piercing eyes
Imagines the other woman's thighs
And the part of him she use to make rise
In this moment she begins to realize
He's not much of a prize
Still deep down
she hopes the bastard dies!
Categories:
unskilled, break up, conflict, crazy,
Form:
Rhyme
The lifetime of a mayfly is a
single day leading to eternity,
while a single day for a man
may be lost and ever forgotten
Within seven days mayfly
colonies die, while for
months and years a man
lives silencing own breath
Within a single week flowers
in a vase bloom to rot, while
throughout decades a man is
stuck in a rot unskilled
The speed of time is a virtue to
flowers and flies, while the speed
of time kills a fading man with
regrets and disparaged sighs
Categories:
unskilled, absence, anger, conflict, courage,
Form:
Free verse
Eyes That Cry
I am the eyes that cry
While an inconsiderate chef
Cuts his onions.
I am the buttocks that brave the pain
When an unskilled nurse
Passes an injection.
I am the superficial vein that bleeds
When a nurse, old as a dinosaur
Passes an intravenous cannula.
I am the urethra that burns
When a reckless juvenile
Contracts gonorrhea,
and wants to pass urine.
I am the eyes that cry
When a schoolteacher
Batters sense into a pupil
I am the broom that is used
And disposed of
Together with the rubbish it swept
I am the condom
Used en route to ecstasy
Dumped into an incinerator
I am the money that is lavished
At a rich man's funeral
I don't matter
© The Kakuru
#MugOfPorridge
Categories:
unskilled, abuse, anti bullying,
Form:
Free verse
Gold or gladiolus or golden sapphire fine;
Delighted, even if I divine light define;
If, like an orange, the details I do not peel,
Will my rhyme-lyric like an angelus-bell, peal?
Like a disciplined mother rearing her infant,
Timely sleeping, rising, nourishing comprehend;
Shaping each brick of my creation if I build,
Will my greatest works as unskilled ever get grilled?
Is my concept clear as a transparent crystal?
Does my thought target, shoot as sure as a pistol?
Do my ideas, views flow like fluent rivers?
Are my imageries as reflected as mirrors?
If I write 'pudding' when I need to write 'wedding'
When it necessitates making the amending;
If my ego, like a wall, stands strong on the way,
I'm not a poet perfect; I should get away.
As the wave-sound of the sea both feeble and rough,
As the chirping of birds are coarsely sweet enough;
As wild animals have roars, gibber, brays, and hums,
My words should vary from simple to complex-sums.
Is a writer full in him that he should not read?
Do the shores of the seas ever a limit need?
Voraciousness in keenness make my wisdom vast,
The wisest of wisdom should be my true breakfast.
11 August 2021
The Writer In Me, Wants You To Know Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mystic Rose Rose
Categories:
unskilled, life, poems, poetess, poetry,
Form:
Rhyme
Thou didst not make me come
I came of my own accord
now you tell me that you're bored
how can I improve on my sweet Lord
Thou art a ruffian - unskilled in the
art of lovemaking, no tantric sex
more like Titanic with a hex
I always know what's coming next
Who wrote my script and said that:
I wouldst love you no matter what?
maybe it was you more likely than not
I must be thankful, pretend at what I've got
Now thou art coming again - never mind my pain
Why is it that my loss has to be your gain?
Categories:
unskilled, love,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Finally he has gone to fish
With a nylon net
Since unskilled he is
Anyhow has set the net,
But, o! he alone has caught
All the fishes
No a single one in the pond
For them, you or us,
Modern devises are so accurate
To finish things at once
Beings also face same fate
Here, there always.
Categories:
unskilled, loss, violence,
Form:
Imagism
Santa is ready for the big night,
Rudolph's red nose is really bright.
Santa's bag is toy filled,
that elf is unskilled.
The ground is covered in snow of white.
Elf's are funny and cute but very small,
always asking Santa to make them tall.
He said eat lots of fish,
as you make this tall wish.
Santa gave them all a new red ball.
The Elf's wanted to have some fun,
they jumped on Rudolph now run, run.
Santa wanted to kill,
all took a nasty spill.
Their crazy night of fun was done.
Categories:
unskilled, crazy, fish, fun, giggle,
Form:
Limerick
Red Wall
Give they money and ask me to bring
Some tools, tables, chairs or ladders
Near to the red wall with fine pieces of art
To lift up those who are short
To make them strong they are required food
And to make them healthy who are weak we required medicine
And a request is sent to the trainers to train people who are unskilled
A teacher is also brought to them to enhance their learning
Pneumonic science is also applied
So that they can hone their capacity of memory
The money supplied I do not spend on anything
Neither is the money for my consummation
I am provided to give them coaching and means cum merit scholarship
Rest of the money is spent as dole just to make them financially sound
As some competitors happen to be super rich
As there could not be any contest
Between poor and rich
Between strong and weak
Neither could be any race between taller and who is short
This is very unfair rather it’s a complete lie
To ask all to compete among the unequal
As alone freedom and equity or equality won’t work
So I place my bricks below the feet of them who are not having well height
To give them equal footing, a platform of equal length and width
Rays of the same brightness with same angel
Rain of the same quantity and quality
Same barometer of the wind pressure
If I do not forget to mention the same humidity and temperature
To do justice to all with unbiased mind and attitude
As mere freedom or mere equality I believe is a trick played
By the of people who have upper hand in the society
Next I give them some of my inspirational poems
To have them all same level of psychological boost
All are now on the same height
On the same line with same length, width and breadth
The area or angel of them is no different
I believe to think all out and all round justice is done
Secretly I blow the whistle
Everyone is free to see their goal prancing like a colt
From now on and without any obstruction
Let them all view their finishing lines which lie over the red wall
Categories:
unskilled, light,
Form:
Free verse
We heard her before we saw her not because she was loud but because she was close,
she anchored herself making her presence felt; we paid the cashier and were about to leave
with our easy day shopping. She asks the man behind the counter if there was a vacancy at
this convenience supermarket (how modest are these retailers compared with their uber
shop assistants) that elsewhere 'let her and others go', as though a treat like a parent
telling a teen, 'OK you can go to the gig'. We turned. We knew her. She was short in
stature but long in confidence. The counter man boss countered in politely, pleasantly, that
he would if he could, when we intervened saying that we would recommend her
employment - thinking that as customers, as shareholders - that employers give a toss!
Ah the necklace! That's the difference, a sign of confidence, of individuality too; or what the
hell until I'm employed again, 'I'm free!' of the clock, under the bosses under pressure,
mates who are not so matey after all, of the tedium of the job classified by the uber
class 'unskilled'. Have you ever come across a job without any skill?!
The necklace, a symbol of her and ours encirclement by the cash nexus by whichever
system of obtaining our daily bread in today's world the least worst that has been devised-
yet - so fulfilling in so many ways: going home well satisfied with bringing the goodies
home to our families, to be well satisfied with the day's work or to moan because it has
been a damned dog day like yesterday as tomorrow will be, but keeping poverty at bay.
In these isles never have so many been in work (even if in a part -time, poorly paid, non
unionised world should shock Walesa) but to anyone on the Dole willing and able to work,
unemployment is a 100%.
May her necklace beads bode well for work for this hard working woman!
May her necklace beads bode well for this hard working woman moan
Categories:
unskilled, political,
Form:
Free verse
THE GREAT WALL
It’s funny and this is true
Years ago, I thought hopefully of being locked away
I envisioned more of an institutional setting
Nothing to do but roam in my robe
Fingertips lightly brushing the sterile, white walls as I go
No responsibility
No need to even say a word
There’d be talk of Crazy Sachs
Staring into space, wandering wordlessly
Much of this has come to pass
The walls are green and I’m a bit more verbose
But there is that talk
And not much is asked of me besides being seen not heard
I offer this anecdote
For it is the second biggest example in my life
Of the difference between fantasy and reality
Novelty fades fast
Occasionally instantaneously
Expectation begets exaggeration
Excitation leads to exasperation
All in all, between dreams and evil schemes should be a Great Wall
Mine was more an invisible fence
I passed through and was aghast to view the consequence
Slashed through thick vines for a sick crime
I was them first two pigs
Dicking around with straw and twigs
Unhinged when the wolf blew in
hit bricks because the walls were too thin
You can’t always get what you want
But if you try sometimes, you might find
What you want isn’t what you get once it’s got
Now you have to lie down in an unmade cot
Ruin, subvert
Cause one to hurt
Feel lower than dirt
That’s it in a nutshell
Just swell I’m in a jail cell
Bars make for a fine wall
Look, not touch at all
Plan how to build
With my unskilled
Hands that killed
Nearly
Categories:
unskilled, anger, angst, change, prison,
Form:
Free verse
Writing my prose,
unmeasured.
Sometimes I try poesy,
another pleasure.
Untrained. Unskilled.
But, what a joy!
to freedom,
my thoughts I find.
And so, as day by weeks
would turn into a lifetime, could be
the possibilities concocted by gods
may be.
Categories:
unskilled, day, freedom, god, heaven,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Of mystic beauty, dreamy gift no Rounded art the lack supplies unskilled the subtle
Lines to trace or softer shades of Nature gifted I
Look Her common forms with unanointed Eyes nor
Mine the seer like power to show the secrets of the
Heart and Mind; to drop the plummet line below
Our common World of joy and woe a more intense
Despair of brighter happy to find yet here at least
An earnest sense of poetic right and weal Is shown
With a Clover as deep and strong as theirs, I lay,
Like them, my best gifts on thy shrine.
Categories:
unskilled, happiness,
Form:
Haiku
A war raged on twixt north and south
while dimpled smiles raised her fine mouth,
simplicity seduced.
He wanted her, he loved her grace
but of her mind,well, there's no trace,
he catered and abused.
Although they'd breed her tall and fine
fed her on dates and cherry wines,
she was simply useless.
They'd made of her just what they wished
a receptacle, a tasty dish,
faults; they would address.
Then one foul day he showed his core
that gallant man was no mentor
unskilled in all but amour
He left her there by the balustrade
"I don't give a damn" is what he said.
Your charms I now abhor.
So as you see the North has won
don't let southern parts get you undone
mind your business
Leave him first that handsome bore
kick his **** out the kitchen door
he was simply useless.
Categories:
unskilled, feelings,
Form:
Tail-rhyme
FARMER’S SON
There’s the sky, look at it
Giggling with the high-mast light
Twinkling not with the stars, but with rays of illumination
Coming from the back windows of a thirty storey mansion,
There stands in the balcony, like a lonely school boy
The subdued farmer’s son.
Head held high, eyes gazing the sky
Staring intently at its vastness,
Admiring the stretch to the far off remote village
Where dull dusky dark and remorseful it seems
There, with the rest of his family, his father lives.
Skinny face as if a marathon runner
Two packs ab and a pair of distinct ribs
Flaunting like the horns of a merino sheep,
His father could challenge the best of the fatless torsos
Daily diet comprising three hundred gram rice and a black tea sip.
The farmer’s son when in college
After a long long wait
As if in the queues of a government ration shop
Could able to get a pair of new dresses,
Witnessing half-barter
With the brother of a cloth merchant
His father sold paddy two full sacks.
There was more harvest that time
Paddy fetched a good amount though not much more
Four sacks exchanged for a second hand bicycle
Two for buying household needs in the village fair,
Another three for buying good food
Two medicines one for guests
And five sacks kept aside
For the marriage of his grown-up sister.
Now than the previous, the yield is much more
With hybrid seeds and costly fertilizer
Fifty per cent of the harvest just flows down like water
And from the left over,
One third is being engulfed as a lion’s share
By rupees two a kilo rice-empowered
Nearly extinct sophisticated labour.
All the efforts to keep his early esteem
Went in vain as the son of the farmer
Had no money in pocket for labour payment
Migrated to the city as an unskilled worker,
Adding to the construction of a thirty storey apartment
With two hundred and fifty a meagre
He works each day for twelve odd hour.
Categories:
unskilled, depression,
Form:
Free verse