Pantoum Part 1
A stranger calls me everyday,
Makes me nervous to get the phone.
She keeps on calling anyways
When I am---or I am not---at home.
Makes me nervous to get the phone.
At times, he or she's a robot.
Calling me when I'm all alone.
And I've told them they must not.
At times, he or she's a robot.
And I do not say a word.
But they want me to sign the dot.
Saying yes to contracts unheard of.
And I do not say a word.
To them when I haven't much to say.
Giving them money is absurd.
These strangers call me everyday.
Rhyme Part 2
Spamela is her name.
With me she plays a game.
Morning, noon, and night.
Any hour is alright.
Her voice is very sweet.
'Cause she's a goal to meet.
She needs to hear me say yes.
To verbal contracts and the rest.
She sells electricity.
And phone plans for liberty.
She will sell me gas.
With friendly sales math.
And seek to earn my cash!
Without her, my day would be lonely.
She's my one and only!
My love on the telephone line.
Spamela uses mobile data all the time!
Racism, ageism, sexism, name it!
If there was tech-ism, we’d have to game it
Why should the pattern of reckless decision
Further a hate based on sex or religion
Why not let love and let live be your “ism”
Spreading its beauty like light through a prism
Loveism, likeism, careism, make it!
After a while, you would not have to fake it
What if our would had no isms at all
Changing the course of our strange little ball
Love and let live and leave others alone
Foster the greatest true love ever known
It’s 25° C clear
but she’s gone.
The outlines of her shadow, hoping
that they’ll have a chance of putting them into use
in the fashion world.
She wears a black, backless dress
with a plunging front.
The soft contours of her breasts are revealed
through the mirrors on the walls.
On the front page a gazette
her cat walk
rushing down to the battle.
Here, you’re making the neighbours squirm.
Here, you’re making their claymores shriek their hatred.
That’s why your body sags against the bar in fatigue.
You’re trying to remember your voice.
Remember, your phone rings again.
It’s a voice you’ve heard,
that incandescent panic spread through the hall.
They’re marrying her.
They’re scarifying her for their day’s events.
You’ve made me interested in how she’s thinking
& you can’t control this with your beard.
Your gaffe is all there.
You gaze with gratitude.
all directions from the same place
don’t lead to the same place
that’s why you’re a butterfly
and I, a moth, but one family
the abandoned lawn
but I care about you
you need to know your battles
and how to choose your directions
chivalry ~
a fine art
gone extinct
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
He doesn’t trust me. I told him the truth. He doesn’t care that I told the truth, he believes them. He thinks that I lied. His eyes have nothing but hate and darkness in them. His body stones there's no warmth in his lip. He is blinded by the words that never existed. I tell him the truth. I'm pleading the truth. God why doesn’t he believe me. His hug is so close. But I would never dare to touch him. He’s yelling, I’m scared. I’m so scared. Does he see my tears of hurting love doesn’t he see how much his words are hurting me. Will he ever believe me? I don’t know. Will his anger blind him and he will do more than yell? I'm scared of what will come next…
They said,
"Fake it till you make it".
I faked my life,
I faked my soul,
I faked it all the being of my being.
She said,
"Just try little harder"
I tried it till I was numb,
I tried it till I was dumb,
I tried it all for the sake of trying.
He said,
"It's enough, I am done".
I was done,
Finally, done from it all.
I was done of trying,
I was done by lying,
I was done of faking,
I was done by making,
I was done by being.
You saved me, my saviour,
Your full stop,
Gave me a new beginning.
Lord show us the way
That we can best celebrate your day,
Should it be fun
For all of us to feel as one?
Or should we be sad
Knowing that we may at times have been a little bad?
May we please drink,
So that into depression we do not now sink,
Aware of course
That too much imbibed turns our chatter into morse.
How about the food,
Or would too much eating be quite rude?
Forget that thought,
As we need consume these lovely things we bought,
Also these folk
Will badly need the victuals for all the
alcohol they soak.
Sorry - now back on track,
Forgive the decorum I so very clearly lack;
But it is a joy
To share this feast with loved ones and on that I shan't be coy,
For while it is your day,
There is one further thing I must now say:
It wouldn't be the same
If we didn't come together in your name.
Thus please forgive any transgression
During what will surely be a long and roudy session,
For we toast but once a year
In the presence of so many we hold dear.
Hence let us raise our glass,
Before yet another Christmas simply pass,
To hail your glorious birth
And such a great excuse for this unbridled mirth.
In the mirror of this world
I see a face that is not my own
A stranger,dripping tears of blood
And cast with impunity to the very depths of hell
Dwelling in the haunted shadows
Cursed to wander this accursed world alone
Forbidden to love,hate a name to be embraced
Lest you fall asunder in the bosom of a friend
The horrors of living oft in a void
Seeing the evils that man doth did alone
Flesh eat flesh,blood cast and trampled in mud
Power and fame,the price of one's soul to sell
The world, a place where evil grows
Birth to death birthing a cycle of woe
Preaching of godless men yet hearts unfazed
Man or fiend,both journey towards the same end
But is this all there is
Is the hope of men like burnt wood?
Is life a brutal endless cycle
That death is but a welcome reprieve?
Nay,but there is a cycle of love and peace
There is the end of all that is good
A greeting that ends with a smile
And a deed of which is hope revived.
Life is a complex without a god.
Feel too much, risk being wrong.
Sit in silence, agree, just nod.
We wish it didn't take that long.
Feel like a slave, get smacked with a rod.
Sit down, believe that you're strong.
We all need a break from lifes daily fraud.
Please stay seated and sing your hearts song.
I'll be here, I'll listen, I'll applaud.
Wake up to the sound of a life changing gong.
Reality rarely
really rallies
a real rapture or a ripple.
Condescending criminals
cornering creative cons
causes us to cripple.
We're never as strong as we think.
We need a reminder
from a soul
not on the brink
I'm not so sure what is at stake.
Sleep is overrated.
Am I even awake?
We are the only bonds of pleasure
We drink a cup of wine at night
A slave in the illusion, in the illusion of our pleasure
Don't think otherwise, don't have a heart
Alone in the night of the rush of dreams
Steps slowly in the dark
Bring your imagination with us
We are the only chains of pleasure in illusion and calamity
You can take love
to the store~ that's nice,
but the cashier will say
kindly, that I need a bit
more...
You can take love to the bank,
and the teller will say, that's nice
but not a deposit, dear, to be
quite frank...
One takes love to the Altar:
I also do, but two years latter
the relationship may be thoroughly
through...
for in the scheme of physical reality
love is not coin even accepted by
charity, as the plate is passed
from hand to hand down the pew
if not delivered your 10%
the priest may think, damn you!
Yet, I confess, being addicted to love,
no great wealth on earth, small price to pay
for tokens fitting the turnstile above....
(Cinderella is the protagonist of the 1697 fairytale by Charles Perrault. The whimsical tale is later told in 1812 by the Grimm brothers.)
“Why, if it isn’t my dear Cinderella,
That twinkle in your eyes, still bright as your ballroom days,
In your smile I still see the sweetness of Nutella,
And in your glow some golden summer rays.”
“How do you do, old friend?
My schedule has been quite busy,
The chores of a princess seem to have no end,
Should I say of a prince’s wife, who often returns tipsy.”
“I must ask, with all due respect,
Why let a man who but found a slipper
Behave in a manner so incorrect,
Out all night favoring a stripper?”
“Oh, dear, you must know,
The man’s delight is but for a show”
“Cinderella, holder of a sunrise’s beauty,
Tell me why you refuse to see,
Why you remain so carelessly happy,
Treated with no sense of dignity?”
“I have reached my happily ever after,
And I do still get my daily dose of laughter.”
“I hope that someday soon,
You will fulfill your own fate,
You will sing your own proud tune,
And leave this pitiful pig of a date.”
You’re my new addiction.
Tunnel vision got me spinning wild.
I don’t wear prescription,
But with you my thoughts are blurry, violent.
Textbook fashion.
Race through my mind.
Past the limit.
A ticket on sight.
Color is valid.
In their minds.
Our fingers are knotted together.
Eyebrows raised; they look so vicious.
Hear the chimes, sweater weather.
Cold like the looks that they give us.
Why they mad that we're together?
Just like them, I’ll play victim.
A victim of the fifteen letters.
The system of triple digits.
I emerge and see it all.
Afraid to make the call.
Who do you call when you’re afraid
Of the ones that hold the reigns?
They emerge and see it all,
But their eyes are laced shut.
Suicide rates go up.
Foaming mouth like a mutt.
Hands are tied in the front.
Bleeding out like a cut.
Hotline number, call it corrupt.
The system is bound to erupt.
No words to capture
elusive love.
Chased,
with boxing glove
laced to hand.
Attempt to catch
a feathered dove;
make a lasting stand.
Stalk
whispered wind
in noon-day traffic.
Place a collar on a flea.
This vessel spent, so suddenly
does seek repose.
Lord knows,
we do our part.
Patching daily hatred
with a beaten heart.
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.