Best Wits Poems


Wits of a Man

The night was frigid and at its poorest,
But who am I to judge, when I was not the wisest,
A slight breeze crawled up my spine,
I could taste the wind’s saltiest brine.
My eyes conveyed to an old lodge,
So I can refuge, from this monstrous botch.
The place was dim, obnoxious and dingy,
But thank god there is no hole for the breeze to carry.
 
But what was interesting, that there was a mural,
It was so boundless, that it gave an unsettling moral.
The colors were faded, and burdened with marks,
Like it was meant to be destroyed, no needed remarks.
It displayed pictures of a young woman and maid,
I wonder who was the artisan that made this eerie portrait.
The face of the woman was covered with graze,
But the maid was gnarly and gave deep piercing evil gaze.
 
For a moment I thought, I had gone mad,
When I thought the maid turned from wicked to sad.
I blinked my visions, to trust my perception,
I opened my eyes, to found the maid was not in front of the reception.
My face was pale, my hairs were struck,
I pounced up when I heard the lightning struck.
I thought to myself I was delirious,
Maybe the maid was not actually there, no need to conclude something mysterious.
 
 
 
 
 
I waited a duration until the weather calmed down,
But the French maid entity made my brain vigorously mount.
The brews were gone, I got ready to abandon,
When I looked at the painting before, to eased my  tension.
My limbs were trembling , as I took a deep stare,
First the maid, now the scrawny  woman wasn’t there.
I backed to leave when voices disturbed me,
saying “You’re going nowhere, this is the place you’ll ever be.”
 
 
I rushed towards the exit when I still had my sane,
Till I dropped down realized my legs were shackled with chains.
I got up apprehended that my costume is now white,
And my hands were completely immovable as it was actually shut tight.
The lodge was dying into an atrocious looking room,
I was squirming on the floor, demanding release from this horrible doom.
Until I notice on top of the iron door,
A header flaunting; “the mental institution of schizophrenia & more”.
Categories: wits, confusion, evil, fear, horror,
Form: Couplet

Twits Wits and Little Fits

Love bluff 
pink lovely stuff 
never burns 
though it melts 
and when it does flesh like metal smelts 
fools toys little
things of no great value 
sweet to touch and taste so hallow 
no finger tips no love on lips 
when you fly and leave 
I hope you know and believe 
that I too go 
from building like water flow
Categories: wits, life, loss, lost love,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member My Fray

Here I sit, diving into some wits, 
 my mind over, at this time 
Looking for some intellect to jot down 
Then, I came across these words in my mind. 

It is with the muse, that comes to take up,
With my pen to these words, I do write
With the memories of my past, I can seek 
They were good times, and bad times, passed. 

Though the journey hard
Those times have I flown
I have no more misery
That need to hold out in my storms. 

Those times have defined I, 
And these words, as I write
It's time to find an end to my fray, 
As I, last write.
Categories: wits, anxiety, conflict, courage, deep,
Form: Prose

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


The Illusion of Wits

The quickness of the hand is replaced by the sudden sight of an immobile body.
This body, free from attack yet as common as you and I.
Wrapping behind the other, the legs meet, suggesting the motion of a female.
There is a nod of acknowledgement, yet too far from understanding.
Attainment-out of the question, but the human body perfected.
This naturalness causes envy, yet is a temporary reaction.
A lightness is masked by vulgarity, which easily can be disarmed.
A bond is craved, yet never fully realized.
Considered seeker of truth, but only speaks of it.
There is confusion within the finesse,
Yet others will dance around it, indulging in their own interpretation.
Categories: wits, body, corruption, desire, fantasy,
Form: Dramatic Verse

Women's Wits

WOMAN'S WITS
By  Ronalyn M. Pupa
“There is a woman in the house!”
She is the man’s partner and supporter,
Maintains household’s peace and order,
          Alone or with you, stands still in all the crises forever, 
She is the everybody’s MODEL. 

“There is a woman in the house!” 
She patiently teaches the young the basics, 
Discovers and nurtures child’s special traits with her tactics, 
Personality is shaped through aptitudes and attitudes mystics, 
She is every child’s first TEACHER.

“There is a woman in the house!”  
She ensures the new wealth is health mindfully,
She organizes the home and its activities accordingly,
Family has proper food, enough sleep and rest daily,
 She is the family NURSE awakes around the clock.

“There is a woman in the house!”  
She turns home into different places artistically,
She varies interior design and arrangement magically,
Home becomes an inviting, restful and cheerful place instantly,
She is the best homeowner and MANAGER.

“There is a woman in the house!”  
She manages and uplifts the income of the family,
Receives husband’s salary yet wise in spending money, 
Prioritizes necessities, comforts than luxury,
She is the TREASURER handling the family treasury.

“There is a woman in the house!”  
Skilled in childbearing or rearing as home’s central personality, 
Instills the habit of self-control, tidiness, diligence, honesty,
You turn to her for a never-ending understanding and sympathy,
With an incomparable love from womb to tomb, amazing MOTHER forever.

“There is a woman in the house!”  
There is a woman working and leading elsewhere,
A woman who conquers struggles and reigns everywhere,
With passion and commitment in her career,
Oh, woman! everybody admires your wits and power.
Categories: wits, mom, mother,
Form: Rhyme

Are You At Your Wits End

they've been moments in life when you've felt that you were at your wits end
be it spiritually, financially or physically be it in a relationship with family or friends
tired of whenever you've been blessed the enemy attempts to knock you down
ready to throw in the towel and just fall to the ground
but if you're a disciple of Christ you will come to comprehend
that God will get you through anything from beginning to end
so before you turn to Oprah, Dr. Oz or even Dr. Phil
have a little talk with the Lord God and then just sit still
He might not get there when you want Him but God is always right on time
and He's aware of everything you're going through that's why He's called divine
omnipotent, omnipresent and all knowing with His infinite power
God knows what's happening at any given hour

so are you at your wits end? can you see no way out?
it's time to put your trust in God for in Him there's never any doubt
God knows more about us than we will ever know about ourselves
His knowledge is so infinite and full spiritual wealth
for it was He who created us and it was He who gave us the breath of life
He also gave us the gift that lifted us and freed us from sin with the blood sacrifice

so are you at your wits end? what thoughts are running through your mind?
do you realize that God knows what you're thinking at any given time?
He knows what you will say before the words fall from your lips
He knows what you will do before you do it as it was He who wrote the script
so there's no need to be at your wits end if you're a child of Christ
remember God is watching over you every minute of your life

I once had a plane reservation for 8 o'clock at night
but the lady behind the ticket counter decided to change my flight
I asked her why did she do this? and she said "Reverend you need to comprehend"
that 8pm flight had a 2 hour layover 
and the 9pm flight will serve you better in the end
not only did I arrive earlier but she had upgraded me to first class too
I have come to realize that God has a master plan that might better suit you
so no longer am I at my wits end as I've  place myself in God's hands
living to praise, living to rejoice by waiting and abiding by His plans
Categories: wits, angst, faith, hope, inspirationalgod,
Form: Didactic


The Taste of Wits

Love is a word , sung by the arts ,
with no blood and life , attracts every heart,
love in the sense , attract a great Mozart ,
making itself fake , at last , like a dart .

It starts to hate , hate the brut star ,
the reason of your wounds , the pain of those scars ,
triumph leads to life , but disaster leads to war ,
know you the reason , why am I so far .

I have seen love , from the time of birth ,
having faces of - joy and mirth ,
tasting a bit - the taste of joy ,
tasting milk or bars , whether a girl or a boy.

Whom shall I tell , the story to share ,
taste it by every buds , but even take care ,
love seems very sweet , but bitter after its taste ,
bitter makes it very hard , life in waste .
Categories: wits, addiction, devotion, earth, emotions,
Form: Bio

Battle of Wits

Of tango I wrote, and how dreadfully a brief one!
Terponei the queen whose loathing was as mine;
Of ignorant readers who eulogize nonsensical poetry
And a good-morning-life destitute of usual tranquility.

“Brains at work” and “wits at war” is poetic enough;
Must the Pacific parch or the scorching Sahara laugh aloof?
How many conceptions ere poetic genuise is acclaimed?
Good poetry lurches ubiquitously on the brains’ soft bud.

It’s a battle – scramble and partition for the virgin mind;
It’s class – to decipher Shak’speare in a modern band;
It’s a scramble – shameful to propose poetry and write prose;
It’s partition – friends, religion, work and poetry bid a piece.

Poetry still fizzes out of evident cracks on the social edifice!
Laymen still issue humour overwhelmed under teary duress;
I see semantic bemusements when poets exchange prose;
And a worse concoction when lays imagine poetry at ease. 

It’s a strait arena, fantasy to the elite and familiar with the simple;
As with a whistling exhibition, co-action for beauty is useful;
Good poetry is like a dance style – the audience decides its worth
A good poet is worse – by him conservatives abandon their faith.

By 
Muthoka SILA – the_making_of_a_good_poet
Categories: wits, poems, poetry, poets, prejudice,
Form: Carpe Diem

Folk Live On Their Wits

All the ways you fought to earn a living
The recipes you tried to earn your bread
You found the world to be most unforgiving
Despite the schemes you cooked up in your head

Ungenerous, life took from you instead
Of smiling on you in the act of giving
-I’d hoped for more than this- that’s what you said
Mistaking the material for worth

While every man that stands upon the Earth
Is made up of the substance of the stars
From the moment of the miracle of birth
He gathers memories as he harvests years

And things that seem to happen to your cost
Outweigh the value twice of what you’ve lost.
Categories: wits, courage, philosophy, work,
Form: Sonnet

We the Poets, United By Our Clashing Wits

Thinking big
Starting small 
Crash the system 
Drop the ball

Crack the whip
Spill the Beans
Defy your God
A sight obscene 

Practice
Lie
As angels die
All just a shot in the dark

Shoot and miss
Control your fists
Violence
Consumes the air

Ride among
The ones who’ve sung
Away their cries
Who’s the one that dies?

Riding fast through the clouds
Way above Heaven
And Past Avalon
Graciously floating over the River Styx

What you seek
What you seek is down below
The Rivers Majestic Majesty
Bursts of Flames and jumping pieces of coal

Your life runs thin as your read words.
Your wasting time but you come back for thirds
You want it
You feed on it

We the ones who aren’t like others
Romantics, Poets, Forever Brothers
We chase the goose into prison walls
And we fall in to a trap, As if forever our souls will stay in cells.
© Jake Brown  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: wits, people
Form:

The Vinyl of Love

Had I known your betrayal, 
I would have let go,
And free myself from you. 

Deep down, we know the wits of love,
A poison made from the cups of romance. 
I drank too much from those used ones... 

I need to buy new ones to cover your spillage,
A mess in pieces on the floor of my core.
Would it have been better if you had cleaned? 

Perhaps, perhaps not..
Notice your indifference...
Am stuck to be your man maid!
A hilt in my gentle hood.
Categories: wits, betrayal, conflict, desire, heartbroken,
Form: Imagism

And All My Wits Were Wet

My footwear in hand,
Trousers folded up to fend,
Dunk in tide I stand,

Unsteady a bit,
Sands under feet digging pits
When two huge waves hit

Splashing sea water,
Wetting me and all my wits,
Clueless I totter.
___________________________
Haiku |30.06.2021|
Categories: wits, beach, sea,
Form: Haiku

Wits End


When feeling 

really desperate

almost at wits end

Wait ~ for you must realize

many folk are so much worse

than you will ever know

So positive thinking

remembering folk

whose life ‘tis near the end

Pray to take away their pain

to free their souls once more
 
loving souls therefore to soar

in deep blue skies  

forevermore…

1291
Brian Strand
Categories: wits, anxiety, sad, sympathy,
Form: Free verse

Twit-Wits Tweeter-Dumbs

Today you twitter, then you tweet,
as though to make your lives complete,
by echoing thoughts of people you admire.

Anticipating that great twitter,
you clutch your phones to reconsider,
the text-ed words of wisdom you desire.

You twitters prattle thoughts absurd,
as tweeters follow in a herd,
of voyeuristic bids to be of note.

You tweet and twitter photographs.
You L O L, the twitting laugh,
amassing twit-wits, with the rights to gloat.

You Tweeter-Dumbs are text-ed astray,
rushing to twitter your lives away,
losing precious time you’ll come to rue.

As tweeted gems of rehashed glitter,
by willing twits, of useless twitter,
dissolve in a vast milieu, void of sinew.
Categories: wits, humanity, humor, nonsense, satire,
Form: Lyric

Wanky Wits Wept

pulpy passion puked
perforating punctured view
dark dances dripped
hoisted crippled hankerings
sassy seals spent
salient sieves etched

wanky wits wept
damping callous crest
beauty politics belched

dark diminuendo drooled
nocturnal nauseated clue
saucy syllables stool

felon fate's fostered
vying voluptuous triggers.
'20:03:20:13:22

Note: Dedicated to Aristotle.
Categories: wits, hero,
Form: Sonnet
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