Best Unusable Poems
Ashes and Thirst
Evil comes in all shapes, and all sizes.
We have all heard this many times... before.
But how truly large, or small can it be?
I want to ask this question you see.
I want to know the answer,
and I want to know why.
The water in the tap is no longer clean.
There are only 49 days left.
Las Vegas, New Mexico... is on the clock.
The whole city, will die.
Why?
Ashes from trees and flowers,
ashes from cars and trucks,
houses and furniture,
personal items
... and dust.
No rust!
It floats up in the air,
without a care,
coming down here and there...
as it pleases.
The ash, making the land
dark, and unusable
with poisons yet
un found, going by unnoticed.
They are the bounty of tomorrow,
containing all the sorrow,
from one bad instance to the next.
Then, the floods come from all directions.
They are part of the whole.
The water... now blending with the sewage,
and sludge, again... undrinkable by man or beast.
This story will repeat itself,
until the cycle is broken,
or the Lord returns.
How is your water supply?
Categories:
unusable, abortion, america, anxiety, funeral,
Form:
Free verse
(a love poem for my son)
Dreams spill out of sleep
sift across the hardwood floor
covers the window
in colors of May
slamming me back towards childhood
or perhaps just to the ashtray.
One forged with labor
in elementary school ceramics;
patient fingers size up,
roll the earthen clay,
pinch it to perfection,
this unusable object
is made with skill,
crafted uniquely for my father.
A tribute greater than mountain carved faces
monuments of life’s reward.
Baseball camps, tee-ball games,
selfless Sunday morning catch,
sitting in question
understanding Auguste Rodin,
your etched piece of history
proclaimed in this ashtray.
The long afternoons,
bedtime stories,
day dreams of musketeers
tree-forts and bandaged knees,
wisdom contained in a receding hair-line
without the restriction of bookends.
This is your medal
placed with vigilance
impatient in time
yes, a five pound ashtray.
Reflections of your accomplishments
schematics of fatherhood, fired
painted with magnificence
useless to anyone but you.
Standing at the door, a lone sentry
hands outstretched boastfully,
here is your prize
an ashtray!
The reception of kings, grins of rum soaked pirates,
you calmly seat me down with the tale of tradition,
rite of passage
generation to generation,
the tribulation of the ash tray
passed from father to son.
Thirty-something
as I lay in bed
the warm morning symphony
shines bright upon my medal
like a polished chrome hood ornament,
I too have taken my place
among the tradition of the ashtrays.
Categories:
unusable, love, nostalgia, satireme, morning,
Form:
Free verse
Sand storm begins as barely a twitch--
at most she's profoundly amusable.
She warns tiny spiders weaving a stitch
their web will soon be unusable.
She grows and swirls into pirouette,
fitting her slippers to Enpointe toes.
Dances with a gentle breeze, and yet
invites pebbles to go where she goes.
Plucking a few blossoms for blowing hair,
paper skirts of amber, golden brown,
crystals of sand for evening wear,
she swirls, enticing all around.
Her friend, wind, challenges noisy gales
animals shudder and hide their eyes.
Sand has tantrums, and often wails,
pretends as queen of blustery skies.
July 18, 2022
for It's All About Three Q's Contest
by Constance La France
Theme: Nature
Form: Quatrain
howmanysyllables.com=10
Categories:
unusable, emotions, nature, power, sky,
Form:
Quatrain
Winter bought rights to long life ~ in command
of blizzards, ice storms, unusable roads.
Iced windshields, snowmen--whatever's on hand.
Heat overuse caused great melt overload.
Alas, Winter thawed--and found he'd been snowed.
~Snowed, in this sense, means overwhelmed with lies,
taken advantage of~
December 13, 2021
For Winter Quintain Contest
by Francine Roberts
Categories:
unusable, betrayal, confusion, corruption, metaphor,
Form:
Quintain (English)
Rock bird
Paper nose
Cricket rose
Coconut ring
Pretzel watch
Olive wrench
Pillow oil
Car cloud
Strange occurrences
Happen at strange times
Creating strange things
All unusable
Russell Sivey
Categories:
unusable, life,
Form:
Free verse
Sometimes it’s hard for us to understand that firmly we can stand with in our creator’s hands. And if we open our eyes we will be able to see his unfold plans that show us that with his son Jesus, we can be more than unusable dust, but we have to be willing to place within him our complete trust. Oh and our Lord knows the heart he placed in us sometimes makes it easy to give in to giving up when things are just so rough and it seems like the pages of our lives are far to torn, and inside our worn down minds we cannot fully comprehend his gift to us of being re-born, and if we open our eyes we can see that inside his hands he has placed within us the secrets to his unfolded plans with in his word, and through his son Jesus we can be molded and shaped into something greater than being unusable dust, yes I am more valuable than unusable dust, Oh through this journey of our life’s, if we are willing to open our eyes, we can come out of the darkness into light, and instead of hiding in the crowd shy and weak, wondering for answers and promises to prayers we seek will come true, we will remember what you did for us on Calvary and we will shout your name, yes we will shout your name in victory, as you hold us in your hands, and share with us all your unfolded plans, and as you draw us near and place within us a desire to know you and your son , Jesus we will see that we are far more valuable then unusable dust.
Categories:
unusable, faith, god, love, son,
Form:
Enclosed Rhyme
Mental Toughness
Written: by Tom Wright
6/16/2018
Mental toughness drives tough old birds,
It sums up our lives with just two words.
An optimistic attitude is what we bring,
And motivates us beyond issues that ding;
Our glass is half full each minute of time,
We march lockstep to our own paradigm.
This defines who we are and who you see,
I happily say, tough old birds, includes me.
We never surrender but will fight to the end,
No matter what warning realities might send.
Believers view give up as being unusable words,
And no shows in vocabularies of Tough Old Birds;
Categories:
unusable, perspective, truth,
Form:
Lyric
valentines shopper, there is a blue light special in Aisle Three
Gloria had no idea what this announcement could be.
but she raced to three to see toilet paper on sale for $1.95.
she tossed in two packages on top of her kitty cat Clive.
valentines shopper, there is a blue light special in Aisle Four
Gloria spun her cart and hurried to the aisle next door.
the special was dog food, which you could buy for a dollar off.
we don’t need it! We don't have a dog! Clive said with a scoff.
the next blue light special was in aisle twenty-three that day.
Clive was forbidding his mistress from heading that way.
they came home dissatisfied, with unusable stuff in their cart.
Clive said “Buying a bunch of junk we don’t need is your art.”
Categories:
unusable, nostalgia,
Form:
Rhyme
past knoxville and idaho city there are a pair of adorable nitwits.
townspeople refer to them as kooky oddballs, a couple of twits.
their name is easy to learn. she is backward ditz; he is fritz.
brown eyes are lop-sided, their glances can be the pits.
watch out! cautions their neighbor, they will bore you to bits.
they showed up one day unexpectedly during a neighboring blitz.
I heard they were parisians, but another told me they are brits.
fritz can do a weird almost-hand-stand, and ditz does the splits.
twits do not put on airs; neither abides by the ritz or any glitz.
they eat bland foods like porridge, oatmeal, and plain grits.
calico cats come to them all the time, presenting them with kits.
their fighting is so common, their eyes are swollen to slits.
fritz likes to knit, so their house is full of junk that he knits.
afghans, scarves, hats, potholders, and unusable oven mitts.
ditz does not wash her hair, so it is full of lice, bugs and nits.
also have zits, and they have performed some really weird skits.
Categories:
unusable, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Monorhyme
I hope this for my grandchildren and our planet…
That the water will always be drinkable
And we shall have enough for the animals.
That kindness and love will prevail over anger and rage.
In the future I hope that automatic assault rifles will be broken
Into tiny unusable bits, so that earthlings can have peace of mind
That they will not be murdered by those who are insane and selfish
I hope that even police will not have to carry these monsters.
In the future I hope that the air will be pure,
That cigarette smoking will be something no one remembers
That cancer will be gone forever and there will be a cure for dementia
I hope this for my grandchildren and our planet…
Categories:
unusable, future,
Form:
Free verse
People rushing back and forth
Wondering what their lives are worth.
Getting lost in their busy lives
Hurrying home to their husbands and wives.
Unanswered questions left in the air,
Make's you wonder if they were ever there...
The most difficult question you'll ever hear
Is,
'What the hell am i doing here?'
Does anyone know the meaning of life?
Is there a purpose to survive this life?
Are we pawns in a power's game?
Is that why we're here?
Why we came?
Is there an answer to all of life's riddles?
Those big and small;
Gigantic and little.
When you die are the answers to life revealed?
Because until then,
They're concealed.
Hidden under vast,
Unusable knowledge,
Brought forth when life is abolished!!!
Categories:
unusable, life,
Form:
ABC
People Think I'm Insane
When I'm in Pain
Can I tell you a long story
or you will say "no, sorry"
at times I think of suicide
but pain I hide
I lack aid
no attention is paid
I have lost my mind
it's somewhere behind
people think I am insane
especially when I am in pain
stress,
sadness is what I daily dress
sick
everyday every week
I have a terrible emotional disease
like a putrid cheese
in me a smile is never shown
laughter is uknown
people think I am a fool
they think I am a useless tool
joy is rare
whom to care ?
I regret why I was born
just because I am left here alone
like an unusable seed
no heed
but still I grin
even if I do not win.
Drencho POET Loads
Categories:
unusable, pain,
Form:
Narrative
In the tapestry of turmoil, World War 3 unfolds,
Yemen, America, Palestine—stories of war retold.
Hamas and Israel dance on a contentious stage,
Nations entwined in a conflict that fuels rage.
South Africa intervenes, with a knowing heart,
A history of apartheid, tearing worlds apart.
Freedom's taste lingers in their collective soul,
Yet, the present echoes a globe out of control.
Colonizers, architects of exploitation's creed,
Ravaged nations, left scars that still bleed.
Unusable lands, resources stripped bare,
A legacy of pain, a burden we all share.
The problem of wars, a tragic human tale,
A narrative of power, where the mighty prevail.
Brother against brother, ideologies collide,
The casualties mount, as humanity's hopes slide.
Emotion seeps through the wounds of the displaced,
Children robbed of innocence, dreams erased.
Mothers weep, fathers fight an endless war,
In the midst of chaos, what are we fighting for?
Controversy whispers in the corridors of peace,
A world divided, yearning for a sweet release.
Yet, solutions elude, like shadows in the night,
Caught in the web of politics, power, and might.
Could diplomacy be the balm for wounds so deep?
Or are we prisoners, in a cycle we can't sweep?
Emotional echoes, pleading for a global change,
Can we rewrite our story, on a broader range?
Controversy rises, challenging the status quo,
Is peace an illusion, or a path we can sow?
In the heart of chaos, can compassion ignite?
A world united, where love takes flight.
Solutions beckon from the realm of empathy,
Understanding the root, not just the legacy.
Education, dialogue, fostering unity's art,
Perhaps therein lies the key to mend each heart.
Controversial or not, the answer remains unclear,
In the symphony of chaos, can harmony draw near?
Emotionally torn, seeking peace's sweet refrain,
For a world at war, yearning to break the chain.
Categories:
unusable, absence, abuse, africa, america,
Form:
Rhyme
Love Rape
People define 'rape' as something bad,evil and painful;
I guess maybe it's the way we view things,
Love yet amazing, joyful, enjoyable...
The end at the beginning, to finish once begun,
Forcefully she feels, yet doesn't realize how special she is loved
Confusion to thee, who tries so much to make a way, stressful
It's painful and hard to love someone and they don't see it, neither do they realize how special you are to them...
Thy heart with pain, soothers the soul
Confuses the mind, yet brings peace to thee
The rape of love, brethren's heart escape, longing for who's willing,
Broken for the unsure, questioned by the confused,
The secretly in peace, love in disguise,
Confused are they that care, wasting their time to realize the gift
To see the unseeable, the unusable, and the unspoken
Love changes the mind, makes me realize that it lives in us all,
As small as it is, yet so lovely
Rape yet described as evil, and bad
Seems honestly good and understandable, comfort to the mind,
Because of love, peace and a giving heart.
Never ending is it, Joy in words, describing how I feel and analyse it all.
To inspire those in waiting, thinking there's no use.
No love yet broken.
Willing not realizing how blessed they are to be loved
Especially by the one who forcefully loves you, and teaches you what she thinks is right...
Thank you, Enjoy!!
Categories:
unusable, allusion, anxiety, caregiving,
Form:
Acrostic
dark and ethereal
stark reminders of being
never tainted nor thwarted
ever present in light
deceptively absent otherwise
now unusable
these tethers
pray tell their value
Categories:
unusable, analogy, perspective, surreal, symbolism,
Form:
Free verse