Somg with dust and desires
Just as filters forgotten
Cocktail mixers and cigrettes
Relationships are all open
Fake feelings like glitters
Busyness seems better
At times love sinister
Twisted all the matters.
Today I decided to block a poet
To date I have only blocked three
My style is wild and I know it
But I was accused of AI poetry
I didn’t exchange nor feel ashamed
An honest purple poet I am
For some on this site rage baiting a game
It only works if you give a damn
Just because my energy is love
Rather than to stubbornly fight
I focus on creating from energy above
And lift up poets and comments with light
I enjoy each person’s opinion here
We all have a right to express and choose
But on my God I do no fear
If you’re combative I will cut you loose
I’m not even the best writer
To be accused of being AI
Simply must be a sad fighter
For I block them out my life
In this modern high-tech age
surely they could have a fix
for the common ailments that abound
that knocks us off into our grtm cage
Sore throats, colds, and a blocked nose
after centuries on Earth, they still exist
why can't a cure be found in this time?
all they say is continue to blow your nose
What a sorry picture this conveys
new heart, new knees and hips are done
but the common cold can't be cured
have we really progressed in our days?
Here I am fighting these ailments
for a whole week, it's knocked me down
with no sign of a change in coming days
never blew my nose so much, quite a scent
But one day it will end
breathe clearly once again
Sooner, maybe than I think
OH, please get me on the mend
(I had a terrible cold a few weeks ago, and these thoughts came to mind of how colds still exist in our modern age)
painful memories
moments no longer near
reminders troll
I viewed an ocean that I could not reach.
Water beckoned me but my path was blocked.
The rocky boulders protected the beach,
Leaving me a glimpse from my window panes.
The rocks seemed to smile at me whom they mocked,
And when the clouds greyed, it gave me remorse
That my travels were stopped by rock's cruel chains,
And I chose instead to redraw my course.
I moved from my home by sea and by beach.
Good-bye to the ocean that I couldn't reach.
Once upon a dreary time
A boy set out to note a rhyme
Pen in hand with paper lined
Prepared he was to share his mind
But thoughts lay barren and confined
Without sense, reason, or rhyme
Suffered he did this weary time
Both his soul and cheerless mind
His eyes grew dark, his face grew lined
And tho he sought to redesign
Something, anything it need not be fine
But the words would not align
And in his room he did confine
To seek and pray for some sweet sign
For the intercession of the divine
To show, to prove verse sublime
But chaos reigned and nothing aligned
And so he collapsed under weight of his crime
Chained by shackles of his own design
Weeping tears by misery primed
The poet thus became the sad mime.
my gray cells are few
my emotions are boxed up
a blank page stares back
mind over matter
allow my fingers to dance
escape from my cell
I never thought that I could be blocked from you just because of rumours.
I thought you saw their envious eyes when they saw us the other night.
I thought I was clear enough when I told you about myself.
And for my past everything is true as I said it,
but now it puzzles me that they are forming up stories to break what we have.
It's so disappointing that you have also fallen for their trap.
Looking at a white blank page
As if it has something to say
Word wizard won’t you rescue me
Lot lizard don’t please for free
Muse is confused she needs prayer
I’m bored and blue without her care
Watching blood moon peeking cloud
Pen saint or sin but write it down
Writer’s use pen like a needle
Now and then pulse is feeble
Needing eyes to spy written words
To feel alive and fly like bird
This poem sucks like babe on breast
Writer’s block is still a turquoise test
I never pass it I cheat with finesse
Blood moon spoons me food to digest
You have blocked yourself as well
Not just only me
Take your time, I’m sure it tells
More than you can see
And that troubled person who
Liked to give advice
May have find another true
Lover to surprise
Possibly you think this way
Trashing me to bits
And I don’t know what to say
Cause I lack the wits
I would rather be a rat
Digging in your soil
But you blocked yourself from that
Personal turmoil
I would rather be unborn
In this cruel world
But I’m here to be torned
By your loving word
You have pulled a winning ticket
In the lottery of chances
And my ticket was a wicked
Gallery of circumstances
Queen of spades can’t play it cool
In the game of hearts
And whatever does the fool
He will fall apart
Problem is, life carries on
Gives another great last chance
Not to miss the prudish tone
And cartoonish arrogance
Now your time will never tell
What it tells for me
Cause you blocked yourself as well
From my company.
I think you locked the access
To the mail box you kept
For my emails, and that was
A necessary act
You didn’t mean to hurt
You meant to drop the load
That purposeless alerts
The emojies absurd
The messages of sweetness
Whereas in real sense
You think to fight the weakness
With meds of more intense
You need more concentration
And I was a dead weight
A stealer of attention
Who comes to talk too late
And this obsessive care
And obvious advising
Was more than you could bear
In terms of compromising
So you just kicked me out
And you felt no remorse
Cause it was all about
Saving a time resourse
You’ve patched up all the holes
The first thing that you did
Was blocking of the calls
Soon after you got rid
Of everything that could
Remind of my existence
Because it is no good
Considering the distance.
Old flame memories, and game show repeats,
viewed through tobacco, it's smoke fills the room,
loneliness, only, stays glued to defeat,
blue-bottles, can't help, but choke on the gloom.
Dreams like the remote, corroded to rust,
unopened, unpaid, bills sit by the door,
surrendered and lost, to despair and dust,
no-one levelled up, around here for sure.
Each day's an ashtray, of stub filled regret,
while moth eaten drapes, block out the world's light,
another neat gin, will help to forget,
added indifference, towards day and night.
The blocked drains and sink, dirty old dishes,
all that remains of, yesterday's wishes.
Ivd blocked out
my childhood leaving room for
future memories
To be blocked, it’s black and white or grey as a rock.
You can exist and be present, like floating particles in the air,
no mudslinging expressed but someone will make it their nosy affair.
Then a block, no valid reason for them to act like an angry cock!
A childish act of them trying to grasp a little control,
But they’ll end up acting like the biggest troll.
Past behavior often predicts their present one,
it’s only a matter of time before they’ll run.
I will never use my control to cowardly block,
instead, I'll enjoy reading real poetry around the clock.
Not AI generated with flowery alliterated words,
Or full of garbled rhymes that are just plain absurd.
I could prove a point thought misbegotten,
For long years packaged as Flatly Rotten,
I myself judged a spiritual loser;
Indeed, an Abhorrent option chooser!
But why, God had said so: "Esau I hate."
So, all his damned mistakes had flowed from Fate
"What's my birthright to me now that I'm dead?"
One, who just in the morning, had not fed!
"Right, agreed, you're Esau, then call Jacob"
Lion Jacob would have turned helpless cub!
Why hadn't Isaac Dad remembered this?
Lord God had that moment blocked Wisdom's kiss!
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.