Best Wannabe Poems
There once was a ninja named Dwight
who sneaked in my bedroom one night.
Bumping into my bed,
when he saw me, he said,
"I'd do better in here with some light!"
For the 'ALL YOURS (Jun 19)' Poetry Contest of Brian Strand
Categories:
wannabe, funny,
Form:
Limerick
"Don't play badly"
Say those who play well
To those for whom the difference is
Impossible to tell
Categories:
wannabe, music,
Form:
Burlesque
Why don't I love thee?
Let me count your awful ways-
Idle, cheating, bastard.
Categories:
wannabe, love, poetry,
Form:
Haiku
They've named a new dish of pasta and noodles
After my wannabe chef, makes dough by the oodles
They call it “la scotta”
To try it ya oughtta
Puts hair on your chest and makes you bug out your pupils!!!
© Jack Ellison 2015
Categories:
wannabe, humorous,
Form:
Limerick
when he was younger
he jammed out on the guitar, bore a fro &
then graduated from brown---
following this, him & his hippie gal got married,
popped out a few rug-rats &
sooner than later he was at grad school,
then the ph.d & then
writing papers on meticulously fine-tuned
areas of literary theory
at the corner of where philosophy met with it in
a new postmodern paradise
free of the restrictions that modernism posed &
free of the comfort that it brought to those seeking
well-thought-out stories,
bringing with it the death of the meta-narrative
as well as a thousand other aesthetic flip-flops,
reversals & complete toss outs---
he sat in his little office at his little state university
teaching english courses &
weaving philosophy &
actually interesting works
whenever he saw possible,
inspiring those who grew as bored as him with the everyday
mundane reality of the university &
in his spare time,
when all the students had gone &
he didn’t have to be home yet to do the family thing,
he labored at the pc
trying to find a way to write automatically---
something that would surpass or at least impress
someone like william s. burroughs,
whose work he adored---
and with every few hours stuffed into a week
where he tried to focus on inventing some kind of
new writing,
he simultaneously forgot that with the meta-narrative
went the origin of authorship,
as derrida himself declared &
so to this day
the lone one sits in his little cage trying to break out
by writing with his spell check or
some other dreamt up attempt at
carving a place amidst those that are studied by history,
unlike those that historically
study.
Categories:
wannabe, life, philosophy,
Form:
Free verse
Sweet pea, Apple blossom, Anemone, Brodea,
Peach blossom, Amaryllis, Delwood, Freesia,
Ranunculus, Calla lily, Bird of Paradise.
I think each of these smell very nice.
Needing more, these are a must.
Gardenia, Hollyhock, Narcissus,
Tulip, Wax flower, Seeded Eucalyptus.
I’m neither gardener nor a green thumb.
Must I say it, I’m rather flower dumb.
Every flower I plant quickly begins to fade.
Where to plant, what to plant, I don’t know the trade.
Alas I try every year to have a great show,
Not a lack of effort, just a lack of know.
Now if you see me in the yard digging in the dirt,
Ask God a prayer for the plants not to hurt.
Because each year I do ask God to forgive me,
Even though I fail, I’m a Springtime Wannabe.
Inspired by the contest Flowers of Spring (not an entry)
Categories:
wannabe, funny, nature, seasonsgod, prayer,
Form:
Rhyme
?
There was a young man in the car, . the wannabe Gangsta by far
Born, West Indies, Barbados, now stop, with his Marley type style, dread locks
Gold teeth, shootah talk and striped socks but he was born near our local shops
With his Dude and his Rasta and Dredds and the talk that talked, man you hiss dedds
You are showing me non no nuff respects, as he posed in his rolled gold Gucci specs
Clicking fingers and walking like Jagger, speaking shotgun, knuckle duster and dagger
Says, hey man I will cut you a deal, this skunk you can buy for a steal
If you wanna drop snort something nice, I can magic a big rock of ice
But I knew that his blag was all talk and I said hey kid, Go, take a walk
You are talking a right load of pee, you are no more Jamacian than me
I wish with your spiel, you'd stop, you were born near our local shop
Categories:
wannabe, character,
Form:
Rhyme
Everything around me
Turns into poetry--
But badly written.
My brain foams
Like it was bitten
By a rabid dog
Or like an angry mob
That doesn’t know what it’s ranting about.
Categories:
wannabe, funny,
Form:
Free verse
Ears listening to only their lies,
And their lies speaking only to them,
Trying to be quiet yet still screaming,
Drowning in rants never heard,
So concise but not too clear,
Imprisoned in thoughts of obsession,
Muttering useless ancient literary rules,
In love with yet hating poetic expressions,
Foreign to their limited constrained imaginations,
Trapped behind walls of old thought,
Grasping yet never holding reality,
While visions of punctuation and conformity crowd their tiny unexpanded
minds,
Judging without thinking one step ahead,
Thinking thoughts that kill their judgement,
Still their bodies move forward to nowhere,
Their voices the only sound left to comfort them,
Unaware of love just beneath their windows,
Desolation blinds their desperate micro-management brains,
In pathetic awe of ancient written rules,
Never really meant for ones of their ilk,
For they were penned for poets of consciousness,
Aware their times and rules would surely end,
Were never truly meant for all the centuries,
Suffocating in the dust of a past they never lived,
Afraid of new ideas of written expression,
Created from the minds of what they fear most,
Free thinking writers unafraid of literary change,
And still,
They talk and talk and talk, saying absolutely nothing.
Copyright © 2014 Robert William Gruhn - All Rights Reserved
"A poem to me is the essence of any thought,
Being built from its foundation into tower scraping sky.
It can fly like no other bird to places never seen,
Even spaceships can only dream of taking its place."
© 2014 Robert William Gruhn
Categories:
wannabe, spoken word, wisdom,
Form:
Narrative
a true haiku should only be about nature i. freaking e.
ROOTS GREW LEAVES OF LOVE
WEEDS TRIED TO STRANGLE THOSE LEAVES
ROOTS OF ROMANCE WON
if you people weren't so adverse to reading me i could teach you all a lot of interesting facts, for instance, in the entire English language which i revere there is only one adjective that should never be modified by an adverb and that singular adjective is the word "unique". one should never say "that woman is VERY unique" the chick is either unique or she ain't unique...the word VERY is inherent in the word "unique" itself...one day, if i feel you are reading me enough and i deem you all worthy i will post a unique poem entitled "A UNIQUE EUNICH" also...take the word "LAUGHTER" AND LEAVE IT JUST AS IT IS ONLY ADD THE LETTER "S" TO THE FIRST LETTER "L" AND YOU GET.......
(c) PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~
Categories:
wannabe, nature, me,
Form:
Haiku
I
To all you wannabe poets,
Here's a word of advice ere you start:
If you want folks to love it,
Keep your ego out of it,
When you write always write from the heart.
II
It's great fun to write haiku and sonnets
About rainbows and gay Easter bonnets,
But if you find them too terse,
You can flesh out your verse,
And festoon it with quatrains and nonets.
III
Poets come, and poets go, and poets coincide.
Some rhyme time and time again, others "free verse" with pride.
But those who let their egos reign
Oft fade and never scribe again.
They succumb to the literary sin of authorcide.
IV
Writing is for me both pain and pleasure,
The time I spend with pad and pen I treasure.
I must confess, though,
Sometimes I stress so,
When syllables I choose to use refuse to measure.
Categories:
wannabe, poetry, poets, writing,
Form:
Limerick
as the late afternoon twilight years
of this primate become sans my exist
hence, more visible on the horizon
an increasing awareness prevails asper
how this middle aged baby boomer
(whose incessant, inconsolable, and
incurable wailing still reverberates til
this day - LIX exiting the birth canal
since January thirteenth ninety fifty
and nine) promulgates nascent longing
jumpstarting helping formulate doing
beneficial actions. only of late didst
an upswell to demonstrate appreciation
(towards acquaintances, countrymen/
women, family of origin, friends,
neigh boars, relatives, Romans, et cetera)
becomes a manifest destiny. awareness
crystallized within the recent past of
my life and hard (days night) times
this yearningto "pay forward" dirty deeds
done dirt cheap along the highway to hell
(mainly within a voluntary capacity)
to avail energy of waning body, mind,
spirit triage. until such a plan (as
per say traveling abroad - either a
lone or with an adventurous minded Ma
demoiselle) coalesces into fruition,
a daily strategy to impact my imme
diate environment in a positive manner
took figurative shape. his doable, feasible,
justifiable, et cetera longing (to contribute
sweat equity such as organic gardening/
farming, teaching English as a first, second
third...language, or writing opinion
editorials blurbs for a news letter,
which loving labors of body, mind
and spirit would be accepted would serve
Categories:
wannabe, 10th grade, 12th grade,
Form:
Light Verse
IS THERE A CORONER ON THE CORNER?
Life would be more temperate were i not taunted so by temptation
On every corner and on every god-forsaken street
For a weakened man such as i temptation never comes to a cessation
And believe me brother, I’ve been broken, battered and beat
I’ve taken my licks while simply trying to get some kicks
Find the thrill of stillness and temporary but tempting relief
I’m like a flame burning in the middle of a candle’s wick
Burning toward both ends with a soothing flame all too brief
The word “temptation” should have been made my middle name
Since I’m tormented by chasing that short but soothing flame
My lack of will power and detrimental desire are both to blame
And since that first shot in the arm temptation is torment I cannot tame
Living wouldn’t be such a chore had I some self-control
And life would be easier were my heart not so hardened by craving
A lack of restraint makes me no saint since sin has stolen my soul
And believe me my bleak brothers, my sordid soul ain’t worth saving
© 2009…..free cee!
Categories:
wannabe, angst, me, me,
Form:
Quatrain
She tried so hard to fit in it was funny
But her disposition was sweet and her smile was sunny
So we gave her a pass, and smiled at her lovely ass
And let her join, without token or coin.
She was the ultimate wannabee, so don’t you see…
We did what we could, to allow her to be….
A musketeer, we became four instead of three
For she worked so hard to fit in, it was truly funny!
Keep it real, we said. Her face was all red.
She knew we had allowed, and she felt rather proud.
She became kind of a pet, flying as high as a jet.
Glad that we let her in, it was a win-win.
Categories:
wannabe, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Rhyme
so
a possum who wanted to be
not a possum but a wallaby
but
a wallaby who wanted to be
a whatever whatever he
and more
like an adventurer high
in a hot air balloon
or an astronaut off
on a trip to the moon
or even
a rider of horses
bicycles, waves
an explorer of mountains
of oceans and caves
wow!
a whatever whoever
wherever he
oh possum
the wishes and whims
of a wannabe wallaby
Categories:
wannabe, animal, fun, funny, humorous,
Form:
Light Verse