Best Work Up Poems
The truth can’t be seen through blinders.
Eyes and ears covered with hatred.
The tongue’s ready-lash sidewinders,
twisting and spinning what’s sacred.
The truth, the fact, reality
masked - the masses bobble their heads.
The illusion of blasphemy
here, when the scripture’s left unread.
No need for truth, when it’s made up.
“What is truth,” plank’s in Pilate’s eye.
Pilate knows - the charges trumped-up.
Wolfish masses prefer a lie.
How often the accusation,
front page news, folks - everyone’s riled.
The leak, having no foundation,
reneged where no one looks - exiled.
But still the crowd cheers old nick.
The stage decked out in crimson fire.
A civil war waged with a Bic.
No matter the damage - it’s dire!
The law, “Love others as yourself,”
truculent in divisive ways -
‘stead hate and pride speech off-the-shelf.
Lollygagging verses… no one prays…
Spend time in the prayer closet.
It’s worth every cent! Spare time!
Hear God - work up the composite.
Don’t listen to the world. PEACE TIME!
9/3/2022
Categories:
work up, truth,
Form:
Quatrain
So you think you are a different class
I think you're talking right out of your ass.
The only rocking you do is like Cassius Clay
And I mean right now not back in the day.
I float like a butterfly and sting like a bee
You just don't have the moves to outslam me.
I smell something as well and a rat it ain't
Quick sit down before you faint.
It's the smell of the corpse i'll make
When you read this your own life you should take.
And if i'm on crack you must be on meth
When i'm done you'll be out of breath.
I think i'm over my writers block at last
Which is why i'm getting this done so fast.
I like my pancakes with sugar and jam
Coz I work up a hunger even when it's such an easy slam.
You're computer probably got hacked because you cannot spell
But in the end I guess it's just as well.
It isn't really a challenge to try and beat you
Hands behind my back and eyes closed I could easily defeat you.
Friends/Enemies, Enemies/Friends
Like all good things I must bring this to an end.
Categories:
work up, funny
Form:
Free verse
God has need of a few good men up there in heaven, I suppose,
But sometimes he picks one of the very best, and we wonder why he does.
Is there some heavy duty work up there, that only a strong man can do?
Like fixing the hinges on those gates of pearl, or tuning up a harp or two?
Or…Could he need the trumpets polished for that final blast that’s about due?
It won’t be long til the rapture occurs, maybe they need a choir director up there,
Or maybe an usher to handle the crowd, and show them around heaven on tour.
Streets of gold, walls of jasper, and the River of Life we are told,
The Tree of Life and the throne of God are some of the wonders we’ll behold.
Maybe God needs a few good men up there, around his heavenly throne,
Just to sing his praises throughout the ages, while the years on earth roll on.
Whatever his reason for taking good men, whom to us seem too young to go,
His word assures us that he loves each of us, and his plan is neither too fast or too slow.
When our purpose here is completed, and our journey through life is o’er,
He’ll escort us safely to our heavenly home, and the joys that he has in store.
Time will one day cease as we know it, and eternity will unfold.
One endless eternal day awaits those who reach that city of gold.
Categories:
work up, death, god, heaven, inspirational,
Form:
Rhyme
A Chip Off the Old Bukowski Block ©
i sit here on the toilet
looking at the cane by my side
when did this happen?
its pronged feet could, at any moment,
scamper into a tidal pool, so much does it
remind me of a robotic crab
my mornings now consist of pills, shuffling
to the next room to pour cereal
then work up a **** before I can
leave the house
When did this happen?
bodily functions take priority as
I can no longer trust this body not
to embarrass me in public
when did this happen?
my knees are shot to hell
my bowels rumble and twist
my arthritis tears at me with sharp little teeth
my vision is perfect, cataracts
blasted away by another robot
when did this happen?
the other day my mind went on a holiday
leaving me behind, confused and blank,
frightened
is this a harbinger of what’s to come
when did this happen?
Categories:
work up, age, betrayal, humanity,
Form:
Free verse
I saw you with your perfect man,
while walking home just the other day.
You were sitting in a coffee house,
laughing at what the other had to say.
It was truly such a sight to see,
two young people so well in tune.
Your smiles were so sincere and warm
that they brightened up the whole room.
And the way you cuddled up to him,
under his shoulder where you belonged,
was so natural that it made me think
of a thousand sappy love songs.
It’s really hard to find that one
that you’ll always thirst to kiss,
and harder still to work up the nerve,
to step up to the plate, to take the risk.
It’s easy to imagine the two of you
settling down in a nice, big house.
You’d be chasing after the kids,
who scrambled round and giggled loud.
He'd be out moving the lawn
and would smile at the joyous sight.
Come bedtime you’d both take them up,
then tuck them in for the night.
Most folks are probably glad for you,
that you’ve found what you’re looking for.
They’d ask you if you’ve set a date,
and why you would wait a minute more.
In their shoes, I’d agree with them
and encourage you not to linger.
The only problem is that I am the man
who put a wedding ring on your finger!
...Get out.
Categories:
work up, anger, betrayal, break up,
Form:
Rhyme
What turns me on
and amps my juice?
It's physical work,
with no excuse.
Muscles will ache,
I'll work up a sweat.
Dirt under my nails,
some Band-Aids, you bet.
Dig right in
and get'er done.
Step back and enjoy,
the pride I have won.
For the contest; What Turns You On
sponsored by Frank H.
Categories:
work up, happiness,
Form:
Rhyme
Ferret Legging
You never know what you’ll find on the net
Nothing much surprises me there and yet
I found a sport that takes no native skill
Just a strong pair of pants and a real strong will
Competitors’ trousers are tied neath their shin
Before two ferrets are securely placed in
Their belts are then fastened to prevent an escape
And that’s where the very strong will should take shape
Each competitor then stands in front of a judge
As long as he can trying so not to budge
Neither ferret nor man can be drunk or be drugged
And no underwear worn so your parts can be hugged
Pants must be loose so the ferrets can roam
From one leg to the other and their movement shown
Each ferret must have a full set of teeth
That have not been blunted or anyway sheathed
Ferrets have claws like very sharp pins
And teeth like a carpet tack that they can sink in
And ferrets are biters and you’ve got a pair
So your “tool” may be bitten and you better not care
Competitors can attempt from outside their pants
To dislodge a ferret that’s latched on by chance
The winner’s the guy that outlasts the rest
And stands there the longest in this little test
Scotland’s the country where this all began
And the record is held by a brave Scottish man
The record’s been set that will be hard to beat
Five hours 10 minutes and still on his feet
Unfortunately the sport’s been dying out
With PETA and others protesting the bout
But if you’re in Virginia, in Richmond next year
And go to the Highland Games there I hear
They may have a ferret or two up their sleeve
That you can insert in your pants I believe
And if you can just stand there for six hours or more
You can bring the world record right here to our shore
But first grab some loose pants and maybe a kitten
Practice with that getting use to being bitten
Work up to a cat and then up to two
That is exactly what I thought I’d do
Then I thought again and again then I thought
Can a lesson be learned before that lesson’s taught?
So I tried to imagine how a ferret would feel
Could I stand there a man without a girly squeal?
Would I be embarrassed or pass out from fright
And I thought and I thought and I thought that I might
So I’ll go on record, this sport’s not for me
But if you’re game to try it, that I’d go to see
Categories:
work up, animal, sports, drug,
Form:
Rhyme
Living off the grid..
I bid you ..
It's a challenge..
Living off the land..
For it's quite bland..
A taste of the great outdoors..
Mother Nature exposed..
Absolutely no power..
I cannot even take a shower..
Walk to the stream to fetch some water..
I feel like a fish out of water..
Always in my life I had it made..
Now I can't even get out of the shade..
The sun beats down..
I frown as I run for cover under a massive tree..
So I am free of sun burn..
Food is totally organic..
Which is fresh and pure..
That is for sure
Picking berries and fishing for salmon..
What a way to work up an appetite..
No technology had left it all behind..
Though I didn't think I would mind..
Life is simple living off the grid..
I rid myself of the everyday grind of urban living..
I bid it all a farewell..
Now I have learned how to survive..
So urban life can now take a nose dive..
Categories:
work up, life, nature,
Form:
Rhyme
My cousin owned a beagle,
A horny ol' dog;
He hunched everything in sight,
Even a hollow log
I looked out on the lawn,
What do you think I'd see?
That peanut-head canine,
Hunchin' on a tree
Hunchin' on a bicycle,
Hunchin' on a car;
Hunchin' on a porcupine,
Oh, what an awful scar!!
I woke up one morning,
Squeaks echoed through my head;
And wouldn't you believe,
He was hunchin' on my bed?!
He never rolled over,
Shake, fetch or beg;
But he could work up a sweat,
On the shin of your leg
One day I had enough,
I called my cousin on the phone;
I shouted loud and clear...
"He's hunchin' on a bone!!"
That's when I realized,
Milk and oil will never mix;
Once again I shouted out...
"Why don't you have him fixed?!!"
My cousin then replied...
"You know that ain't no good!"
"It wouldn't be right,
To take his manhood!"
One day we went fishing,
The sun was facing south;
That silly ol' hound,
Started hunchin' a cottonmouth!
He took a fatal bite,
The snake struck him again;
Before we blinked an eye,
He bolted in the wind!
Deep within the forest,
Searching frantically;
We found our horny friend,
As dead as he could be
The moral to this story,
Be kind to your pet;
If you're not a breeder,
Please call your local vet!
Categories:
work up, cousin, funny, humorous, memory,
Form:
Rhyme
For how long will I wait in silence?
Will I ever feel your warmth again?
You left me broken by your absence, and torn by your elegance.
We had a perfect harmony, priceless moments and epic romance.
I long to embrace your touch and sense the aroma of your beauty;
I miss those days when we cried over our laughter, stare at our flaws, and hated our love;
I miss those days when I work up to your cherry heartbeat and drank from your sorrows;
I miss those days when we hid in public and shouted in secret;
I miss those days when time was an illusion and your awe voice was a remedy for my soul.
You filled me with flames of affections, lighted me with tender care and cover me with direction.
In captivity of your love, I'm a prisoner of the past.
Tender body. Oh lonely!
Categories:
work up, anxiety, emotions, heartbreak,
Form:
Ballad
A dark heart took me to a dark place on a dark night
Years spent breaking me down till who I was , was out of sight
I can’t see all I hear is loud screams some of my own
In my mind I am in a field running alone
He, My angel looks at me to take his hand somewhere in the light
But then he smiles and takes back his hand and tells me to keep the fight
His smile so bright it delivered hope
Gave me the strength to survive and cope
Never knew love hurts of shades black and blue
As I lay on the ground getting stepped on like gum on his shoe
My tears were begging god to see me through
I promised if I survived I would start new
Over the sound of insults I am numb
Echoes “No one wants you , You’re pathetic and dumb”
He hated me , I've never seen so much hate
He wanted me to die but who is he to choose my fate ?
I ran though I was weak and full of fear
I saw the devil in his face but I knew my angel was here
I locked the wooden door that was flimsy as I trembled.
A broken woman is that what I resembled?.
This wasn't the first time I was put to sleep in pieces
With a cut lip and a black eye as my heart races
This wasn't the first time I was told I was worthless
Or choked till I was left breathless
But I promise it will be the last, I will deal
I will put my shame to rest and I won’t be afraid to feel
I will work up the courage to look myself in the eyes again and smile
I will forgive myself even if it takes a while
Categories:
work up, abuse, anger, break up,
Form:
ABC
First thing in the morning give thanks for seeing
another Glorious day. Then smile and be on your
way. Ask for guidance if your skies are gray then
Be a Blessing for someone that's in dismay. Now
bad is sad but if you let it get you down you've been
had.
It's all up to you so if you let bad choose you loose
Now your heart, if you let the Lord steer you will be
filled with cheer, then go do something good like
volunteer, you might even work up a blister but it's
well worth it to help your sister.
It could even be a bit painful, but you could be helping
an Angel who's undercover, posing as your brother
For we all need help as quietly as it's kept. That
will give you leeway to look to the sky and say
Hey, The Making Of A GOOD DAY.
Categories:
work up, cool, encouraging, happiness,
Form:
Since I was the oldest of three sisters with a mum,
As my dad had died when I was at an age young,
I thought I’d join the navy to help out my family,
But I excluded the black segregation code anomaly.
In training our instructors gave us our work, hard,
But you could work up to being the mates, guard,
Of the officers, an intimate situation, all food made,
You would know everything after a while, anticipate.
Because I was black, I could only serve an officer,
But I was told the job was essential, but felt inferior,
Even though I knew many men that were jealous of me,
‘Cos we used to train men in flag control and gunnery.
We felt like a mobile target as planes bombed often,
The ship got repaired when it was replenished, ben,
But one morning after I’d been out, Cinderella Liberty,
Another black man came down, there was a calamity.
It was the Pearl Harbour bombing and the ship got hit,
Torpedoes fell onto us but did not explode, not writ,
But they went right into the hull and made our ship tip,
Such that eight minutes later the ship was history, a quip.
Upon the command abandon ship, I got through a port,
‘Cos I just knew not to put a life jacket on for passport,
We got to the walkway outside the captain’s cabin,
And then swam for Ford Island, our own safety to win.
I was hit in the head, the shoulder and the leg,
But was with a corpsman, a nurse, who had the peg,
Who saw me to Ford Island First Aid Station, his duty,
Then I went to the submarine base hospital, a casualty.
My friend Dorie Miller from when I was at school,
Saved the captain and his officer, he did not fool
With race, when on board the USS West Virginia,
But only got the Navy Cross because of his colour.
He should’ve got the Congressional Medal,
‘Cos that was what you got for that pedal;
He only didn’t get it because he was black,
Which is not fair when I pensively look back.
Categories:
work up, appreciation, conflict, death, hero,
Form:
Heroic Couplet
I thought that this would be an interesting topic to write
As some thoughts about this year's awesome events came to light.
Recalling the year's events made me pause
Yet several "awesome" events gave me cause.
In thinking about one particular thing I would say
That finding Poetry Soup has made my day.
Not ever knowing how addictive it can be
To write my thoughts in words for others to see.
And then there are the friends I have found here
Who's poetry sometime will bring me a tear.
Oh, I laugh at some, cry with some, even get quizzical
But it only makes my fingers want to get physical.
My brain starts to ache as I work up a lather
Typing words into rhyme as fast as I can gather.
Yes, it is a gem of a site that I see
But the real gems are the others who write poetry.
Their words are more elegant than mine
And I often wonder how they come to them sometime.
When I read their work it is more than a cure
They express the thoughts which are ever so pure.
Like distilling fine cognac from its brandy base
The words that I read all fall into place.
So it makes me want to make my own work better
And to them I have become a debtor.
For the words I write come from inspiration
And some of the contests exact great consternation.
You see, I don't know an Iambic from a Pentameter
But, that's what makes me want to try harder.
So I write words in ways that I think are good
Hoping that my thoughts can be understood.
Many a comment passes the site each day
All, to me, are special when sent my way.
I appreciate the thoughts of others who will take the time
To read the words I have tried to rhyme.
So in looking for something happy that happened this year
This "Awesome" site makes me want to cheer.
Poetry Soup may not give you the zing,
But then, next to sex...it's the next best thing!
HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO ALL !!
Categories:
work up, computer-internet, friendship, happiness, imagination,
Form:
Couplet
I'm just a soul whose intentions are good
Oh Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood
I work up today, with a dark cloud hanging low over my head
No smile in sight
No Good Morning (in sweet tone)
No Beaming spirit to inspire her smile
Tongue sharp and harsh
My good morning was dry and cold
The shock in her eyes, broke my heart
Her face painted with hurt and worry
Feeling of guilt settle
Good morning (in softer tone)
I'm just a soul whose intentions are good
Oh Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood
It’s been a long day
The weight of the world seems to rest heavily on my shoulder
Everything is wrong
I am wrong
Wrong body
Wrong job
Wrong life
Got home moody
No how is your day kiss to give
No hug, no smile
Just empty distance space
Ice cold graveyard in a warm heated house
How was work?
Her worried tone soften me
Another day done
Voice in a failed attempted at a cheerier tone
I'm just a soul whose intentions are good
Oh Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood
There are days
When I dance and sing in the rain
Skip
Hop, up and down the street
You will mistake me for a much younger guy
Worries out of my mind
I pull her to dance to the music of our life
Our joyful of life
She laughing out aloud
Calling me crazy
I guess I am
Crazy in love,
Crazily happy to be alive
My kisses are never far away
Most days are like this
But
I'm just a soul whose intentions are good
Oh Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood
Categories:
work up, family, husband, life, love,
Form:
Ballad