Long Unskilled Poems

Long Unskilled Poems. Below are the most popular long Unskilled by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Unskilled poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member attractive available anguished armadillo

attractive available anguished armadillo
babbled bold bald badger whose bagpipes billow
Caribbean cardinal carved a curious candy castaway
dazzling daffodils and damselflies dived into last Tuesday
eagle’s eager echoes edged eastward to eavesdrop
farsighted French fantasy fascinated a frenzied fop
Gaudy gauzy goose gathered green gingham in a glut
Handkerchief Hannah hid hairy harpoons in her high hut
Identical illusions ignored illustrious images on an iced cake
Jackal and jaguar jaywalked on Jersey Jet nicknamed Jake
Kindly kettledrum kangaroo captured Kansas kiwi and a kitten
Laryngitis Larry liberated long legged Lieutenant Litten
Macabre macaroni moved a muggy machete in the mail
Nomadic Neanderthal noticed nest hanging from nude nail
Old-fashioned omelet overbaked her overgrown tomatoes
Persnickety panda piled on plenty of posh potatoes
Quagmire’s quahog quizzed a questionable quake
Raccoon and rabbit wrestled a rattlesnake with a radish rake
Saber-toothed Sally sanctified Sudan’s soldiers with a salute
Tabernacle tabby tom tap danced with flute, violin and lute
Unskilled underwater sub was unstable and unreliable
Victory for vivacious Vivian, virtuous and viable
whimsical whales wished to be included in a Washington poem

'xact xerox of x-mas trees ‘xcited ‘xtra long xylophone
yen yielded yellow yaks which Yvonne used on bone
zealous zany zebu’s zipcode zinged into a new zesty zone


Premium Member Grownup Games

When you insist on playing grownup games,
you've only yourself to blame if you lose.
And though some signs can easily confuse,
smoldering embers don't equate to flames.

Innocence can't protect you from love's pain,
like a moth; you're attracted to its flame.
And though it burns, you crave it all the same,
risking all, over and over again.

Unskilled in deceit and detecting lies,
you naively believed his love was true.
And yet, trust was partially the blame, too;
betrayal came as a shocking surprise.

You feel like drowning in a pool of tears,
devastated, you're unable to cope.
And you're clinging to fragments of hope,
as possibilities morph into fears.

He swaggered off and didn't even look back,
his departing laugh, flippant and cruel.
And sobbing like an incoherent fool,
you're having an anxiety attack.

Friends, Haven'T You Any Fish

The best poetry stays silent and deep
It cries for attention below still waters
Each one melting into oceans weeping

I still fish poorly in infinity’s pool
With no reward that satisfies
How the fishees goad me cruelly

Titles of poems swim beneath
Above this captain surrendering
Then fragments of stanzas bequeath

I take in my morning catch 
Fillet and debone them into lines
Till the blade parse thoughts

My unskilled lines always snap
But the hours in between recede
Tugging fruitlessly my line's gaps

The more I go fishing with a net
Tempting manic thoughts gather
Inspire me as Jesus did to Peter

The best poetry needs no hook
Leave the white whale port side
Cast starboard into faith’s pools 

But I doubt the Lord’s mastery
Bereft without empty nets or baits
I dive without wit into the mystery

If I pull up a catch each dour day 
Perhaps I will tire of idle fishing
Careless of a spare haul turning gray

I’ll hang tunas and shrimps on a board
Hoping not to care if poems are unsold
Catching and releasing every word

Becoming a fine fishmonger fishing his soul


** Sorry for the deluge of poems. I'm trying to write a poem a day this month just to hammer down each poem straighter. I'm obsessive about getting it just right and hating nails that stick out.

Gigwiser

Loser changes name match
The Concernment of People 
Cellar Toss verses Mil Mascot
Came about due to the high
Venue prices. Said Peom. 
A outlook of fans and media
a Concernment of greed and
Se to dishness, spoke many
Concerned. 
Wisdom of Savants and Meres
(Peoples Priorities) Nicknames
that causes concerns. He Lavish
could target critsium from those
who feel to he backlash from there
entertainment interest. The loser shall
wear the name"Big Meanie" due to contractual
Concerns . A ticket buying public pushes the
envelope, a ticket buying public
Wises to raise there glass in honor
 not in fear. Real. World issues, concerns
real people not corporate hypocrates 
A champion talks championships
A champion doesn't stumble over situations
Unskilled and troubled. 
The outcome is defeat not parish!
Form: Bio

Premium Member The Writer In Me, Wants You To Know

Gold or gladiolus or golden sapphire fine;
Delighted, even if I divine light define;
If, like an orange, the details I do not peel,
Will my rhyme-lyric like an angelus-bell, peal?

Like a disciplined mother rearing her infant,
Timely sleeping, rising, nourishing comprehend;
Shaping each brick of my creation if I build,
Will my greatest works as unskilled ever get grilled?

Is my concept clear as a transparent crystal?
Does my thought target, shoot as sure as a pistol?
Do my ideas, views flow like fluent rivers?
Are my imageries as reflected as mirrors?

If I write 'pudding' when I need to write 'wedding'
When it necessitates making the amending;
If my ego, like a wall, stands strong on the way,
I'm not a poet perfect; I should get away.

As the wave-sound of the sea both feeble and rough,
As the chirping of birds are coarsely sweet enough;
As wild animals have roars, gibber, brays, and hums,
My words should vary from simple to complex-sums.

Is a writer full in him that he should not read?
Do the shores of the seas ever a limit need?
Voraciousness in keenness make my wisdom vast,
The wisest of wisdom should be my true breakfast.



11 August 2021
The Writer In Me, Wants You To Know Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mystic Rose Rose
Form: Rhyme


One Sided Minds Telling Leave Dumb

Remain arguments focus on the future
Worst case not yet real what suits ya
 economic decline like 2008 9 

hand over control to be wealthy 
who controls your wealth 
must be mentally unhealthy 

until bad times please 
I plead help me 
hand out freebies 
yeah that’s wealthy 

don't need to make our laws
let some unknown 
like all history before
dictators the best time's shown

zoning in on potential benefits 
unknowing the hell could hit 
Potential benefits, could be couldn’t 
assured it would be why wouldn’t it

seeking selfish gain
a pawn in the EU game
becoming a subject
they fought wars too reject
 
yeah we could fund other countries development 
history tells us we shouldn’t be confident 

dream versions of what the EU could become 
in reality stalled, just begun 

always theorise the EU on the rise 
improving while Britain declines, 

True EU progress a tortoise 
no legs or eyes, shelled assuredness
True youth unemployment rise 
drops in productivity not faultless 
no action taken no planned delivery
remain have the thoughts "best"
if best means deluded blindly 

remove Germans and the EU bye byes
Remains unseen hanging in there theory 
but all the worst Brexit sites they eye up clearly
selective correctness bigot oh deary

As though Britain sits unconnected 
unskilled crumbled with no sun 
and the Brexit hit will have sunk never sprung
One sided minds telling Leave “dumb”.

Remainers remind me a wheel
will you get your head out you're getting ill
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Identity Crisis

It's complicated
The way she looks at him
Not the way it used to be
When he had held her gaze
She had expected to love him all of her days
Had walked around in that lover's daze
Not aware of his cheating ways

His hiding and deception
An unskilled master of self protection
She discovered the reason for the alienation of his affection
All the small clues that led to his detection
Making her doubt herself
Not wanting to believe his indescretion
It was easier imagining relational perfection

Without him she thinks she has no life
Her identity tied to being his wife
Yet now she wishes 
imagines
Gutting him with a knife
much better being a widow
Than a cheaters wife

So she looks at him with piercing eyes
Imagines the other woman's thighs 
And the part of him she use to make rise
In this moment she begins to realize
He's not much of a prize
Still deep down 
she hopes the bastard dies!
Form: Rhyme

Rhyme God

Enter the Everest that devastates 
as he never ever rests and demonstrates 
his quick wit picnic of traits that place 
with lickety split flicks on the page 
the tricks of a contortionist wrist that emits embers at pace 
as he commits and performs on the centre stage 
with the impact of a storm from the biblical age 
the act of an adorned prolific rampage. 
Irresistible talent abundantly apparent 
you thought you'd witnessed 
ability but until now you hadn't 
when the rest in the business 
appear to be unskilled 
and transparent 
as their best rhymes diminish 
right here to be unfulfilled 
and redundant 
thus divested of finesse 
while it's clear to see you're thrilled 
in this moment.
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member I'M a Permanently Casual Knight

I'm permanently casual, a full on part time,
A jack of just about every small trade.
When I was young my friends merrily defined their own career,
But it was with girls that I always played.

Untrained and unprogrammed, uneducated and unskilled,
I pretended I knew everything.
From building a house, to farming a farm,
To boxing a man in the ring.

But when I replumbed my own house, we needed a plumber,
To repair the damage I'd done.
And it turns out a doctor knows more than I do,
When I shot myself with a shotgun.

So even though I think I'm good at doing stuff,
Deep down I know that I'm not.
I'll keep writing poetry, painting paints and being creative,
But I'm no knight of no round tabled Camelot.
Form: Quatrain

Grandfather and I

I am Misti--, didn't get it?
Misti(sweetness) is my name,
My grandmother gave me that
Honor, I'm too grateful.
I'm going to 8 months
This November soon,
My limbs are
Not properly working now,
As a little bird fears to fly
Into the sky, below the mountain,
I am quite like that: I can't
Hold my legs sticked to ground.
My voice is like the groaning
Of the cloud you can hear but
Not to decode the meaning.
I want to speak with definite
Sense but my tongue
Slips, it reminds my age:
I'm very delighted for having
Such a temple where mom, dad,
Grandfather, grandmother and uncles
(Mee too) all together.

O, grandfather! I'm too little to climb
On your shoulder, I want to take
Repose there.
But don't worry grandpa, very soon
I'll grow up & I'll be there.
When I'll complete my two years,
Promise me: you'd be my horse &
I'll take a ride on you.
Thinking so, much pleasure I'm 
Feeling with supreme verve:
But I can't make my words way.

Dear grandpa! when I grow up,
I'll go to the field to feed you:
The cool rice with water, onion,
Green chilli and boiled potato
I'll carry all in a pot on my 
Little head.
When you consume the food,
I'll be busy catching the grasshoppers then, how glad I'd be!

I know you are all worried
About my unskilled thinking,
Of course, that should be!
But you all have forgot one thing:
I'm the MUSE of my dearest uncle!

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