Best Untaught Poems
While waiting at the river Styx, in twisted time untaught,
from branches of the gallows tree, in recollections wrought,
your soul, a beggar’s blanket, hangs in crazy quilted knots,
with dangling pearls and diamond studs in dripping crimson clots,
midst gaping wounds and bulging eyes like fouling apricots,
for wrapped like rope around your throat’s the Reaper’s grim garrote.
"It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God." (Matthew 19:24)
Categories:
untaught, death, judgement,
Form:
Monorhyme
Continued from Part 1
“Upon your knees in golden naves, while peeking through the slots,
You horded thirty silver pieces, downed a whiskey shot,
Then crossed yourself and wrapped yourself in furs of ocelots,
And danced on cleated cloven hoofs in purple polka-dots,
Then drank His blood from chalice cups with pious afterthoughts.
“You’ve treated men like mongrels chained, like little flies to swat,
By doing what you wanted to, instead of what you aught;
You’ve wiped your nose with dollar bills and paid your serfs with snot,
But when you’ve paused to preen your pride, you’ve scrubbed a scarlet blot.
“In ashes of our victories: the diamonds that you sought,
The crock of gold, the Golden fleece of bogus Argonauts -
In mirrors of your lifelessness, the evils you begot.
“The haunted winds strew leaves of time across a shallow plot
Where now, beneath the frozen stones blanched bodies bathe in rot,
Disintegrate, return to dust to feed Forget-Me-Nots
Amidst the bane and pits of pain where broken bones lie caught.
“In fields above the catacombs and tombs of Camelot
The black and withered tree of Death arises from the spot
Where oft beneath a bleeding moon you hid your gold in pots
Embedding doubts neath barren bogs where roots of wormwood squat.
“While waiting at the river Styx, in twisted time untaught,
From branches of the gallows tree, in recollections wrought,
Your soul, a beggar’s blanket, hangs in crazy quilted knots,
With dangling pearls and diamond studs mid dripping crimson clots
And gaping wounds with bulging eyes like fouling apricots,
For wrapped in chains around your throat, the Reaper’s grim garrote.”
Yes, that’s the fate of all your kind, disclosed by Wise Men taught.
But that was, oh, so long ago, by now you have forgot…
End
Categories:
untaught, men, time, war,
Form:
Monorhyme
a skill untaught, a work unfinished; if ever completed---priceless
Categories:
untaught, peace,
Form:
Monoku
I am a champion,
the thought and feel of it is real,the fact being indisputable and the reality pure,
with others,and in singular isolation victory over the misery of disrections is now,and future,
I am a champion because I have led myself and others to victories,
victories over the malvolent and lurid labors,
living,toiling,dreaming,and breathing within the parameters of a system foriegn
to my instincts, alien to this suture,
I am a champion along with others because I weep incredulity
at the untaught magnitude of a work ethic producing abject glories,
brought to my knees,my heart beats rife with pain,fear, & the mud of doubt,
brought to lunacy by the dispassion that consequence savors,
rising, and rising as emotions explode at the chance and moment for domination,
justification, to obliterate the obstacles,making room for stories,
awaking with dry pain in the eyes,nausea,dizziness,despair,
seeking simple reasons for motivation to go forth,
wishing quixotically for more sleep,
finishing the day feeling dumb,dull and brazen like a fenced horse
hungry for edification,rectification,seeing the great steppe with a risk too deep,
going on week after week with new sprains & strains on mind body & spirit,
always some mistake, cuts, bruises, burns & hyperextensions,
compulsively micromanaging,hyperanalysing, a manic finisher,
nothing will dissuade me from the thankless pursuits of daily perfections,
the anatagonists,the ones who sneer & discourage casually at the noble attempts
of the able champions trying to maximize efficiency,to excel,win,
raising that standard which the mediocre claim can't be improved,
I and others jeapordize our health,safety,sanity so to accomplish the impossible,
I receive no grand trophies,new contracts or publicity,
nobody takes my picture or delivers a prize,
there are no special tokens or passwords on the table,
we strive ferociously for the sake of victory,for the knowledge of limits,
this way setting greater goals & tests,
being testaments for others who climb,
do I want acclaim from Deity for my successes,distinction for my sacrafices, no,
I work hard for me and others to be sublime -
J.A.B.
Categories:
untaught, inspirational, work, me, work,
Form:
Epic
There was once a professor that sought
Humankind that were untaught
But decide to make-do
He'd forgotten how to
Remember what he was taught
He decided to drive
A pretty girl home and arrive
Safely, though they were kissing
it was awfully boring
At least he got her home alive
© Eve Roper 4/22/2015
*Education is what remains after one has forgotten what one has learned in school.
Albert Einstein 9 7 6 6 7 Limerick Form: A A B B A
A/7-10 B /5-7 Syllable count
*Any man who can drive safely while kissing a pretty girl is simply not giving the kiss the attention it deserves.
Albert Einstein 6 8 7 7 8
Contest Name: Famous Einstein Quotes
Sponsor: John Freeman
Categories:
untaught, humorous,
Form:
Limerick
Explosions rock the boat;
Ocean gushes inside.
The battered stern won't float,
All controls lock their slide.
Listing fifteen degrees,
The lifeboats fail to launch.
Swift decent lugs a squeeze
Impossible to staunch.
After mounting seconds
The vessel starts to slow,
While the stark deep beckons
To swallow them below.
Schweiger spies the turmoil
From aboard U-20.
Acts of rage shall embroil.
Outcomes destroy plenty.
Along the starboard side,
Crewmen sadly lose grip.
Force and terror collide--
Rag dolls plummet and flip.
The Merseyside Bowler,
Captain Bill Turner stays
As the helm controller
Until the sea betrays.
He scoops the chart and log
Before tossed by the wave
To splash down in the fog
As deck chairs bob to save.
Eighteen minutes stalk down
As the queen disappears,
This vessel of the crown
Sheds life essence like tears.
Of the forty-eight rafts,
Only six salvage lives.
Few are plucked from the craft,
Rescued before the dive.
Bodies scramble for life
As the rouge flotsam floats.
Survivors torn by strife
Wait for swift rescue boats.
The massive toll of grief
Demands a quick response.
Liars sell disbelief,
More soldiers to ensconce.
Freedom dies from deceit
Since justice needs to thrive.
Heroes wail in defeat
When covert acts contrive.
So Schweiger falls denounced
For his sinister role.
Yet U-boats do fall trounced
By the British patrol.
Bounties Cunard offers
To captains ramming foes
Offer tempting coffers
For quelling danger woes.
Poor Lusitania!
Dashed by corruptive lies.
Megalomania,
Shielding truth in disguise.
The sleeping giant stirs
Due to brutal accounts,
Sparking violent slurs
With omissive recounts.
Woodrow Wilson blusters
At the German attack
While the bankers muster
To break our nation’s back.
Indignant elites rule
Behind grim deception.
Lessons untaught in school
Show wicked inception.
Categories:
untaught, history, war
Form:
Ballad
In Central Park, a polar bear
Would swim and swim and swim;
At least twelve hours every day
Was not enough for him.
His name was Gus and at the zoo,
A therapist was sought
To see if this obsession
Could perhaps become untaught.
An animal behaviorist
To Central Park was lured
And he concluded, in the end,
That Gus was merely bored.
They gave him toys and hid his food
To occupy his mind
And slowly, he began to leave
His figure eights behind.
Still, tourists and New Yorkers both
All loved to visit Gus,
'Cause after all, he seemed to be
Neurotic, just like us.
But sad to say, Gus passed away;
His age was twenty-seven.
Perhaps he's doing backstrokes
Up where polar bears have heaven.
Categories:
untaught, animal, urban,
Form:
Rhyme
These headlines are a bee’s sting
Most situations vinegar atop a slice
Recurrences you would think good norm
A father gone rogue taken his kid for wife
Mentors hyenas over the innocent
A sane violating a unstable
Trainee kids in the “begging profession”
Corruption the bountiful profession untaught in any school curriculum
Addictions’ monopoly a snake’s venom in the society’s veins
Just yesterday love was beautiful today it pulled the trigger
We were a family now drifting apart by our fight for wealth
The applause of human wars sinks humanity in some
Our ‘leaders’ for themselves we the common their cash trees
The list of stony consciences too long, too bizarre…heartbreaking
“God are you there?’
This world’s struggles do you feel?
Our painful questions aloud within do you hear?
The ugly choking our lives’ loveliness do you see?”
“God are you there?
Won’t you breathe back sanity to our thoughts, choices, actions?"
15/10/2015
Contest: Are you the God?(Silent One)
©GraceM Composition
Categories:
untaught, spiritual,
Form:
Free verse
Bated young as if moth,
our rushlight engrossing as inferno,
to minds untaught of hell.
As hell itself to learned folk,
cursed with mystic beginnings,
drowned deep within their well.
Before the airy days of care,
can gently ease them in,
to the world as sheer as veil.
We bury deep insecurities,
in soil that we are oblige to love,
and scorch the earth in ways that time will only tell.
Categories:
untaught,
Form:
Epic
Married to a number,
Set aside for posterity.
Marked and laid out in an open grave,
In everlasting humility.
Look and behold as I grow into the earth,
I never asked for and do not want any pity.
Young life, hope, tortured death ,
And yet, I welcomed it all with untaught piety.
I lie in unmarked graves around the deadened land,
I am sorry I never said goodbye.
Categories:
untaught, death, funeral, war,
Form:
Free verse
Some days I wish I could step outside myself
Be you, someone, anyone, think different thoughts
Ain't it strange you'll never know no one but yourself?
I'm runnin' blindfolded, seeking somethin' untaught
Suspended within language, were comprised of the past
Mythos over logos, walkin' the tight rope of sanity
Can't decide if things are ever novel or just recast
Nihilism, can't decide if it's all just vanity
I'm no cynic, the idea of "meaning" just seems absurd
We're here after 13 billion years of unguided events
Think about it, we decided the meanings of words
There's 6,500 languages, each with unique content
What it means to you, it don't mean to someone else
Hello, Hola, Bon jour, Guten Tag, Ciao, Ni Hao
Headed nowhere fast, better wear your seat belts
Don't think I believe the truth, all I'm sure of is now
Categories:
untaught, culture,
Form:
Rhyme
His agonized inhabited mind haunted
by peaceless imaginative thought,
extremely distressed, his spirit daunted
with severe revelations of supernatural
phenomenon, so distorted caricatural
features indescribable by the untaught,
exorcism perceived as emotional relief
for his tormented mind created by him,
comforted by his faith and strong belief
miraculous event now urgently desired
penance to alleviate his guilt required,
tormented by ghostly sight of his victim.
4/1/2018
Categories:
untaught, anxiety, death, fear, imagery,
Form:
Rhyme
FROMTHIS2THAT
Biscuits and gravy
Salads and snot
Chicken fried salamanders
The clams and mussels
The oysters the army marines and the navy
No such relief will be brought
Delusions of Grandeur
The dankness in disparity the putridity
The slackened standards
Oh the wasted cognation
The scabs
The gangrene
The horrible rot!
An expired emotion
A disgusting thought
The ocean of death
Fighting the tide
Like a bucket of sand
The Crabs scatter from futility
All mollusk moan in aggravation
The morbid discord a bandless eulogy
Education leaves so much untaught
The mind bending psychoactive laughs
Lighting the darkened inside
The genetic modification progressively paves this path
The superhuman sublime Externalized id
The age of science and the prosperity it has brought
The genome split, the double helix divide
Biochemical experimentation
Brings forth the future of man
The savage beast - laboratory tamed
The super-naught delivers the human
child from the caves to the Promised Land.
Categories:
untaught, fear, future, imagination, science,
Form:
Lyric
Never attempting of striking it rich,
whenever my cravings give me another itch,
I'm used to a quite and simple life:
enjoying good food and sharing a coldl glass of wine
when relatives and friends drop by;
why be someone you weren't meant to be?
Any millionaire around the globe,
sipping champagne desiring what I love?
With my beach cap pulled down,
so that my short hair doesn't sizzle and change color,
as my light skin turns to a golden tan;
yes, I thank God for a breeze cooler than a fan!
Whole afternoons are spend on this pristine beach,
with a waterfront that a Californian will envy,
to melt away that old cliche' of vanity;
come down here...the East Coast is a wonderful shore!
Low class, middle class and the upper one,
all share this unquenchable feeling,
to lay on the salty sand and begin to dream;
Am I talking non-sense or tackling the zest for living...
that this society has been unawarely denying??
Striking it rich is a temporary fancy,
imagining the possessions money will buy,
and many untaught temptations will materialize;
some will die by snorting deadly coke,
others squandering it on mistresses and hookers...
God, how the human spirit is corrupt and consumed by lurid
and unhealthy desires that once were out of reach!
And hopefully someone will ponder this,
to wake up to this gruesome, and parlous reality
and spend his or her fortunes wisely!
What good people will do for the betterment of the deprived ones?
First give them love from the heart, then help them financially...
that's the smart way caring, of planning to strike it rich;
what's the use of looking at your glittering gold,
and not giveit away to help anyone whose thirst and hunger
show in the sunken eyes...waiting for someone to feed their bellies!
If I ever stroke it rich, I wouldn't be here enjoying this sunshine,
but I'll get out there and search for the needy and helpless ones,
and stop the selfishness and madness that money provides;
if I share my good fortune with them, others will follow my example,
and a real change will take place...no poverty everywhere in our world!
Follow me, and search for everyone alive...to give them back their precious life!
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
Categories:
untaught, food, children, friendship, funny,
Form:
Narrative
There are books that nobody ever reads,
lines expanded with stories that never get to catch,
eyes stalking cyberspace,
inside there is SOcial media, SOOcial media, SOOOcial media,
like a 3-ring circus they join by watching themselves,
as though egotism could have value in a selfie,
as though Spam could impart knowledge to untaught minds.
From time to time I read some
hardbacks that converted Kindle Fire,
fitting together with the popular, with the digital era,
with those who run and intensify this circus,
and intellectual students married to information,
books sitting on shelves behind me,
the computer screen before me,
eyes darting wildly to see illusions and jokes,
witnessing a tragic magic trick as books disappear .
When was the last time you read a book?
Categories:
untaught, books, character, internet, introspection,
Form:
Prose Poetry