Best Upfront Poems


Premium Member Falsifying Truth

The concerned politician was running for re-election
   But a very cool, steamy sex scandal he struggled to hide
He used his thick, bald head to provide some harmful protection
   By taking a scholarly, dim-witted babe to be his bride

By hiding appearances this loser won the seat he sought
   But the love/hate relationship with his former mate went on
Under cover, above reproach the governorship he bought
   The wickedly good scheme went awry, the lover suddenly gone

In the shadows of limelight his true love would no longer stay
   The powerless governor didn’t want his private life public
And his charming, boring wife soon suspected there’d been foul play
   Lying alone in her separate room made her healthy heart sick

A sleazy, reputable reporter showed her photographs
   Of her husband and his lover in a platonic embrace
When confronted, the governor made a fortuitous gaff
   Laughing contritely, he told his wife their love he’d not debase

But well-intentioned cons have a way of gleaming through darkness
   For the long-lost mate found his way to the governor’s mansion
Startled resignation on his wife’s face so expressionless
   To explain he was gay led to consolidated expansion

The news was revealed, the governor was forced into hiding
   For he was no longer viewed as a truthful politician
He’d not been upfront, but back down in a closet confining
   And he’d risen to downfall with a concealed revelation 



*For Kristin’s “Oxymoronic” contest
Categories: upfront, confusion, politicalwife, love,
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member Echoes of War

In Memoriam of brave, lost souls during the First World War

Our insides churn, nostrils flare, with the pungent stench,
Order given to leave our sanctuary and trench.
Battle cry, whistle blown and up and over we go;
Standing together in advancement row by row.

We, doomed soldiers, marching onto the battlefield
holding our rifles, killing weapons, as our shields.
Hats made of tin lay cumbrous on our head,
Boots holding chaffed, unsteady feet, as we tread.

Upfront the enemy and fast approaching us,
Peaceful bygone days, oh— how beautiful it was!

Loss of innocence, bloodied through war, outbraves,
Blades turn crimson red — so many early graves.
Bugles sound, shells explode, blinded and choked within;
Shattered dreams, shattered lives, battle we may not win.

Comrades that became friends fall at our feet —
Only death awaiting them now to meet.

Their last breathless, muttered words lovingly spoken,
A falling silent tear, plea, gesture or token.
Remembrance to behold for their sweetheart, mother;
Final last memories, thoughts, can be of no other.

Resonant of sound and echoes of war
a shroud of smoke filled air as now and before.
Remember us always today and forever more.
We gave to king, country and those we adore.
Categories: upfront, world war i,
Form: Rhyme

My Biggest Fear Was...Me

I guess I cant hide anymore 
I must be upfront with who i am, who I've been all these years
I'm not the average girl
Yea, i admitt, I got issues
but who are you to judge
I'm not going to hide anyomore,Im looking fear in its eyes
Im not gonna cry
What you see is what you get
Dont like it?
Tuff sh-
Im not Kay kay anymore Im Akribah
Who I've been hiding from for years
 Yea I cut
okay so what
Alright I listen to Avril Lavigne and Fall Out Boy
Thats my business
Just let me be me
What I do has nothen to do  with who I am
 Im that same girl that you knew years ago
I just grew up
Ive learned that its ok to be me
you dont like it?
Ask me if i care
 Im living for me
Something I should have done years ago
I lost my grip on life
But I was given a second chance
And this time Im not gonna hide
Im gonna look fear in its eyes
Im not gonna cry
I cant hide anymore
I refuse to hide anymore
what you see is what you get
Dont like it?
Tuff sh-
I faced my biggest fear
Categories: upfront, life, fear, me, new
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member But Reflection Is

Never in secluded pools they dwell,
I speak of ornate  waterfalls,
they rise and fall majestically,
near docks, wharves and piers,
sparkle, gleam, smooth flow trickle,
eye balm whirl fantastic perk on tap,
stickybeak on podium rapids,
instigator signage when our trek seems dull,
but reflection is a gem warp cataract,
kinetic rebound  ocean wave backbeat,
which in fact an upfront blissful target,
hardly ever missing opal bulls-eye,
environmental bubbles that somehow never burst,
indulge outlandish fare Promethean,
spurt  on vermillion lanyards pendant sweep,
dream paint sunrise clementine tincture,
daub acrylic spree through pale moon orb,
squeeze tube lambent hue past frail mandala,
eternal sepia a light touch pristine shroud,
that loiters over urban life force ripple,
flaunt your image rich abundant fire
Categories: upfront, beautiful, care, celebration, color,
Form: Imagism

Premium Member Bad Luck of the Irish

Mr. O'Toole in trauma sat in front
Seeking mercy from tax assessor stunt.
His Irish luck grace
Full Blown-in his face.
With distaste pay money in full upfront.

3/26/2025
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: upfront, anxiety,
Form: Limerick

The Power of My Pen

My fingers grip tightly as I
create inversions and wise archaic diction.
Eager to record more glorious expression
and "wright" more on the canvass of time.

The power of my pen
is my panache and panacea.
My pen is connected to my thought
and words fight for a place upfront.

With eyes closed,
I disobey the rules of grammer.
Ideas form more quickly.
My Pen will last forever.

The power of my pen 
is one in a million.
It saw the best in me when everyone else
could only see the worse in me.

My pen gave me wings so I could fly.
All I want is all from you.
It gave me an ink to colour the sky.
All I have is all from you.

I was lost but you find me here
You put me close; end up being near.
Forgive me PEN when I'm weak and lost.
You've being my eyes when I could not see.

Hey!!! ye poets on earth!!!
Don't give up on your pen
cos your pen won't
give up on you.
Categories: upfront, art, character, earth, hyperbole,
Form: Free verse


Premium Member Send Me No Insults When I Die

Send Me No Insults When I Die


Send me no insults when I die
couldn't hurt me if you try
Send those insults while I live
so returning fire I can give

Never try to stab me in the back
my third eye is always on track
I once dearly loved a damn good fight
now I rather prefer to just be right

Send not fools to do your dirty work
I despise fools and simply hate jerks
Take your measures like a real man
with blows delivered in upfront stand

Send me no insults when I am dead
cry your woes, kiss my **** instead
My soul at rest , my spirit in the sky
I say piss on you and don't ask why!

Robert L. 05-27 2014

A lucky inspiration. 
I just read an email from a bitter enemy.
He declared he would piss on my grave soon enough! A veiled threat
(possibly) .. I laugh at and now write this little tribute to 
the guy's stupidity.
Categories: upfront, rude, slam,
Form: Rhyme

Funny Man

Funny Man!
By Linda Hays-Gibbs
Oh funny man you touch the hardest heart
With messages to crumble and start
A snickering or flickering to spark 
A laugh a full belly rumbler
A genius of illogical and logical matter
Without him the whole world is astronomically sadder
Oh let our grief someday subside 
That we in heaven will find 
A bench upfront to see his latest comedic job ( I pray)
The jester (Robin Williams) at heaven's court for God
Categories: upfront, death, depression, eulogy, farewell,
Form: Ballad

Thank God For Pearl

I went to church when I was five,
Sunday School, never missed.
I looked over; who did I see?
Well, of course, I saw Pearl teaching.
 
Time went by and I got older,
I graduated to the “big church”.
I looked over, I sat on the left.
Who was on the right, Pearl.
 
Once a month, every month,
Usually the first Sunday… Food`s aplenty.
Go downstairs to eat, who`s there?
Right again. Pearl, with bowl in hand, always happy.
 
Time goes by, I'm married now.
It's Sunday. Church again; this time with family.
I look to the right, across the aisle,
and who`s there? Right again. Pearl…
 
1999, it's a very sad Sunday in church.
My Gramzer, upfront in casket; she passed away.
I stood up, turned around, I said a few words.
Who do I see? Pearl, handkerchief in hand, wiping away a tear.
 
It`s Sunday, Church, Choir time.
I walk up front and once again,
Looking behind me, I see...
Pearl, ready to sing for Jesus.
 
Time goes by; my whole family is with me.
We're on the left, as usual.
It's been 55 years since that first Sunday.
I look over. Who do I see? I see Pearl once again.
 
Pearl, I thank God for you…
Categories: upfront, faith, for her, friend,
Form: Free verse

Om Shanti Shanti-2

Om Shanti Shanti Shanti:

A faith-lit  path in forlorn lands
Hold no wrath,  it's ever at hand
You didn’t know it a bit, did you?
Doling out truth in terms of myth
Not far away to be one with
And meld with the chant 'Om Shanti '

Shanti shanti.....Shanti shanti
Shanti shanti.....Shanti shanti

There  need not be any  hurry
Though  caught in unusual worry 
Stealing the light from  stars were you
Striving for success  through dare-do’s
Reuse the old ruse through and through
Gave once the heave-ho, Om Shanti.

Shanti shanti.....Shanti shanti
Shanti shanti.....Shanti shanti

And from the dark  the blue bird sang
One  viewed its shades as out it rang
It did't declaim in haste like you 
Shifting the fake  to the forefront
Gifting hate  to the  mate upfront
Time to go back to  Om Shanti

Shanti shanti.....Shanti shanti
Shanti shanti.....Shanti shanti

The voice that makes everyone  halt
The choice they make without a fault
In the  detours taken by you
With a lease that too soon ran out
Before one was up and about
The help sought after, 'Om Shanti'

Shanti shanti.....Shanti shanti
Shanti shanti.....Shanti shanti

Whose was the idea of a  truce
The false  promise that would seduce
Without omission all but you
Nowhere  was it an entity
Wherever  searched for  purity
To fall back, spent, on Om Shanti

Shanti shanti.....Shanti shanti
Shanti shanti.....Shanti shanti

Shivering on cold river sands
Sharing our paltry minds and hands
Basics are wearing  thin for you
Suffering  to  arrive at last
Ashore and safe so very fast
Drowning only in Om Shanti

Shanti shanti.....Shanti shanti
Shanti shanti.....Shanti shanti


29th Jan 2013
S.Jagathsimhan Nair
An imperfect   imitation  of Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, submitted for FRANK H’s contest

Entry for pd's second chance poems on 21 feb 13
Categories: upfront, inspirational, introspection,
Form: Lyric

A Little Too Kinky

I was sitting alone close to Kerrigan’s Lake,			
feeding birds with the crust off me bread.		
There were seagulls and swans,			
and Eurasian coot…					
With squabbling from fighting the only thing said.	

This fellow walked by with a look of content,	
and a grin that was fixed on his face,			
he sat down on the bench				
and scared off the birds…				
Declaring this world is a wonderful place.		

I couldn’t agree ‘cause he frightened the birds,	
so I guess that I was seeing red.			
With birds back on the lake				
and this dill on the bench,				
here I’m stuck with the crust off me bread.		

He is humming a tune and was happy I’d say,	
and there’s something he don’t want to hide,
with a wink and a nod				
he quite openly said					
“I’m sleeping with twins,” and my eyes open wide. 

“You’re sleeping with twins!” I repeated and smiled.
Then he puffed out his chest and said, “Yes.”	
Well its bugger the birds				
and bugger the bread…					
This could be a good story he wants to confess.	

I questioned the bloke; I don’t mind ‘kinky’ stuff,
so I’m upfront, quite forceful and brash,
“Do you mind telling me,
how you tell ‘em apart?”				
“Easy,” he smiled…“The brother has got a moustache!”
Categories: upfront, humorous,
Form: Rhyme

The Chennai Floods - Second Part

THE CHENNAI FLOODS - SECOND PART


No food nor drinking water, those alive, pity
Faced chillness, starvation and panic in eyes
No medicines, no blankets and no clothes 
People succumbed in homes and on roads

Hundreds of people dead; countless injured
Houses and cars in thousands submerged 
All essential storage quickly lost; and no food
Nor shelter; alas providers became seekers

A catastrophe that none believed will happen,
Occurred anyway, as people simply wilted low
Money and materials could not be of help
As holding hands alone forebode being alive

The future looked suddenly bitter and bleak 
With money, valuables and motorcars lost
Very difficult it looked to make good the loss
As personal belongings all vanished in a toss

And by the time the boats came calling
And relief was in sight; most people had 
Lost the battle and barely held their lives
The unrelenting flood having spewed its wrath

The misfortune threw up the good Samaritans
For many showed up, courting risk upfront 
To save many a folk, with dedication abound
In desperate time providing solace and succor 

Brave young volunteers were there in full
To reach supplies for people in a mess
But the disaster had hit in full, long before
Many need decades to get back, as before.

And then army men arrived to ferry in boats
Saving people, marooned and maligned 
Helicopters dropped food for hungry mouths
As pilots picked the sick and the hopeless

The Government claimed it did its part, well
While the critics made a lot of noise, as ever 
Alas people were left, high and dry; dismayed
To mourn the loss and weep, in silent mode!

Some said the authority failed; in their role
Some said it was “El Nino” “Climate Change”
Many attributed: highest rainfall in 100 years!
But I know: Millions of folk took a mighty blow!
Categories: upfront, courage, halloween, horror, loss,
Form: Ballad

Hands of Time

Life is a journey,find your mission,
Get up off that lazy ass you sit on,
The hands of time is ticking away,
Time to get working,unless you get pay to play,
What you are leaving to do tomorrow,
Do it from it can be done today,
Don't idle while your life ticks away,
Every tick a next second has passed,
Your sand is running out,in times' hour-glass,
Where do you want to be in life,upfront or last,
Will you fight try to win at all cost,
Or will you just roll over and die,another life lost,
Tick,tick,tick, life hammer driving a nail in your brain,
Will you rise to fame or will your life be lame,
If you die trying there is no shame ,
The shame is on those,who had no aim,
Don't lie to yourself to yourself be true,
The hands of time won't stop for you....
Categories: upfront, life, people, time, life,
Form: Verse

A Lump To Me Throat

You often hear those fellas who go bragging in the pub,
about women and their conquests, and how they’re the sexual hub,
they spruik about their exploits like they are a gift from God,
of course I end up listening to, the peas from in one pod.

Yeah, they’re out to beat each other with their antics in a bed,
thank God there’s not a woman here, to hear what has been said,
‘cause I’m sure they’d laugh their guts out at the drivel I have heard.
and I never speak off exploits. I say nothing… not a word.

In some ways I’m just like them; these mates who choose to brag,
I’ve had some nights out on the tear, and played the rutting stag,
but I would never tell those mates of mine about one night I had,
when I met this ‘bird’ in Melbourne, who’s looks were not too bad.

We got talking at the bar and so I brought her drinks and tea,
and after downing seven ouzo’s she was making eyes at me,
then she added some suggestions that quite openly I read
as a kind of invitation that she liked to share her bed.

Now those mates of mine with what they said is really second class,
and I know from my experience their acts would barely pass,
but let me tell you in the morning when it’s light I’m taking note,
of a photo on her dresser, that brought a lump into me throat. 

I admit that I was worried with a need to understand,
so I asked her if this photo was her out of town husband,
she laughed and said “No, silly!” And snuggled up again,
but I had to clear the coast… “Is this your boyfriend then?”

She shook her head “No, not at all”, then nibbled on me ear,
“Who is it then?” I asked the lass, to minimize me fear.
She was upfront, she didn’t lie, and there was no perjury,
she kissed me gently then she said “It’s me, before the surgery.”
Categories: upfront, humor,
Form: Rhyme

My Dad the Coalman

My Dad, the Coalman

My father was a coalman ,when I was a little girl
Five ‘o’ clock each morning, coal-sacks on his shoulder he would hurl
Behind the wheel of a lorry at fourteen years of age
No driving licence did he have, for he was under-age

My dad he was a strapping lad, what you would call robust
Handsome, though you couldn't tell, face covered in coal-dust
When he would come home at night, he was quite a scary sight
All I could see was big brown eyes and teeth so pearly-white

He'd perch me on his saddle and wheel me up and down the lane
Even though he'd worked a ten hour shift and was in a lot of pain
He used to tell us stories, they always made us laugh
He told us about a lady who wanted her coal put in the bath

One day he was approached by an expectant mum called Florrie
She told him that her waters had broken, so he took her on the lorry
When she arrived at the hospital, her skin and clothes were black
She'd got there safely in one piece, surrounded by Nutty-Slack

Some customers would pay upfront, my dad his lesson learnt
When customers refused to pay for coal already burnt
If someone was short of money, he would fill up their coal-scuttle
But if he told his dad, the boss, his response would be unsubtle

Hardly anyone has coal fires now and this makes me very sad
But lots of people in the town remember the Coalman, ‘my dad'
Categories: upfront, father, remember,
Form: Rhyme
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