Jury Rigged Poems | Examples


List of Member Poems

Premium Member Intransigence

As like every other loving child growing up 
In my early years, I have always looked up to my father 
I was over-whelmed by his creativeness...
How he improvised and jury-rigged his make-shift concoctions 
My mother would constantly call him "Mr. MacGyver" 
As the years passed by and the times were changing 
He was still stuck on his old ways 
When my brothers and I were growing our hair long... 
He would still be keeping his slick Navy crew-cuts 
When we would walk around with our scruffy faces 
His face would always be neatly shaved 
When we walked in our wholly jeans 
His attire would always be in a suit and tie 
When we greeted our friends... 
We would say "Hey, what's happening man" 
When he greeted his friends.... 
He would usually say "How are you"
My dad had passed away a decade ago
Still resting on the end table beside his bed 
Is the dial phone he used to call me on 
He was one old dog that you could never teach a new trick to
"Intransigence" 


Intransigence Poetry Contest 
Sponsored By John Hamilton 
7-15-2019

Premium Member Outside the Door

The construction workers, 
outside my door, are building
something tangible.

I was one once and
I know that it is true.
You see your work and
you feel the pride.
You know exactly what you did
or didn't do.

As I sit here constructing
words and thoughts,
I am never sure just where
the joints will hold.

Super glue, band aids,
jury rigged, half-assed
constructs, and all that I want
is just one solid nail of truth
to hold my joints together.

Then, maybe, I can have as much pride
inside the door,
as I once had outside.

Jury-Rigged

My heart doesn’t beat like yours any more
It’s held together with duct tape and string
Balloons pump my blood and gears turn the beat
Paper clips hold everything in place
I’ve noticed no one notices
Though I’m patched and stitched in places
And the seams stretch and pull and tear
They still feel open half the time
You see, I still work just fine
My limbs, they move, my mind, it thinks
Yes function over form, I still work just fine
Though the buzzing noise in a bit odd
And the paper clips often bend and break
Many pieces ought to be replaced
But I just can’t afford it now
Good hearts cost much more than what I make
And like I said, it works just fine
Most of the time, when the bits don’t break


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.

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