There's nothing I can write
won't be misunderstood
won't be misread
won't be misconstrued
nothing I can scribe
won't be misinterpreted
and nothing I can pen
won't be pooh-poohed.
'Write what you know,'
Mark Twain proposed,
or so
his saying goes
and,
as of the reader I know nothing
nor what the reader knows,
if
I'm not mistaken,
from now on
with such wisdom,
call it 'insight',
when I think of, 'Nothing,'
for the foresaid reader,
'Nothing,' I shall write.
you misunderstood my words
assumed the worst
where that anger came from
i’ll never know
you closed the door
without a glance
you walked away
and that was that
you weren’t the friend
i thought you were
but from my heart
i wish you well
the sting will hurt
but not forever,
may life be good to you ~
AP: 1st place 2025
Spill the tea, tipped up spout, stirred
Friction mixes fiction into fructose
Whispers pull expectant ears close
Muffled message can barely be heard
Listen where truth and lies intertwine
Hot off the press, a hopscotch
Pebble thrown, trending watch
Manoeuvred over as squares 3- 6- 9
Folded inside last week’s newspaper
Transfer blur, ink bleed injury
Tear away band-aid gingerly
Atrocities reduced to peculiar caper
Shrine to memory melts fact, flimsy
Shadows spread black plague
Smokey mirror, images vague
Cloak and dagger funhouse whimsy
Pressed for truth, tea bags shrivel
Leaking last drips of drunk dribble
21st November 2024
Written for Contest:
How the Echo Filters Reality
Sponsor: Di11y Da11y
Unload your appraised earnings
in the collection baskets,
small price to pay
for holy water's kickback,
God thundered an indignant snort
'pon gold filled prospered coffers
within corporate excesses
of enriched gaudy churches,
wondering when HIS word
had begotten misconstrued
in clergy's interpretations
of powers' self-aggrandizement
and pontificating gratification;
whilst the huddled masses
were starving midst the pews
I am an ego-maniac
With a self-esteem issue
They call me a braniac
But I really need a tissue.
I encourage you,
to find meaning in it's depths;
to open a blind eye in fear;
and then to hold that moment dear.
I would hope for you to open-
a closed ear in times of desperation
so that you may benefit,
from inner restoration.
what is seen,
is still emotionally unclear-
and what is heard is misconstrued;
for truth cannot be seen,
and this worlds darkness I cannot elude.
how does one foot-
follow directly behind the other?
when does knowledge-
take form in action?
and when do words-
produce the desired reaction?
I encourage you to speak-
when you feel that you should not,
and I encourage you leak-
the truth, which you have thought.
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.