Odd Poems | Examples

List of Member Poems

Odd obsessions with butterflies and the dead

Eyes ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ follow ¦¦¦ butterflies,
And, ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ sweat ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ at the empty skies.

So ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ they fall ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
And sting ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
Till, ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦

¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ pain ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ gather
Out of ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ a cabbage-leaf.

"You ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦
Turn, ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ to ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦
Glorious butterflies ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ dead." . . .

¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ beautiful, Earth ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
So ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ where ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ is our death!


(Blackout of Butterflies by Rudyard Kipling)

149 (#s 1_2_7)

#1
eroding hooded in-
fantry hounds endure 
rear entry neutron edific-
ation

     #2
ninety hidden round-
heads defied the 
nations's fourth and 
vinyl deity

     #3
handy indentured Randy
hoed the feud from his
rooftop redoubt

     #4
though yearning for
funds i found
knot butt frauds in my
yard

     #5
tiny fading freon
nodes adore yon
daring radon onions

     #6
reading frothy innu-
endo is only
funny when the
rhino's red hooves have
little or no foundation

     #7
not so ornery
fiends hand out in-
ordinate amounts of
Henry's once hoarded
fortune

Premium Member The Truth Behind Odd Balls

Too ‘Off’ for the odd balls or the cool kids,  
wherever does that leave this lady’s quill?
The common symptoms don‘t really show,
I’m afflicted with chronic poetry disorder.

Wherever does that leave this lady’s quill?
Absolutely in anguish, drifting nowhere. 
I’m afflicted with chronic poetry disorder,
being me means you’re the squarest peg.

Absolutely in anguish, drifting nowhere
every voice matters until you don’t fit.
Being me means you’re the squarest peg,
that is probably why I keep on writing. 

Every voice matters until you don’t fit,
iced out by the festive word .. inclusive. 
That is probably why I keep on writing,
maybe I’m searching for the imaginary.

Iced out by the festive word.. inclusive,
the common symptoms don’t really show.
Maybe I’m searching for the imaginary,
too ‘Off’ for the odd balls or the cool kids.


Premium Member Odd man out

January's once a year thankfully.
We all enjoy celebrating on the first.
The other thirty days suck.



Wordku: 5-7-5 words

AP: 2nd place 2026

Premium Member An Odd Style OCD


This man does weird things to his heart’s content,
wears odd sock pairs thinking it’s not dissent.
      Likes to live life of contrast,
      sticks to obsession steadfast,
lets strange style of mismatched socks make a dent.

Premium Member An Ode to My Special Toe

I have one toe that goes above its job.
The digit developed a way to give
pleasure if merely squeezed on its wee tip.
Like whenever someone plays with my hair,
massages my receptive neck or back,
it’s a prized oh-ew-ah-oh-ahhh affair.
I appreciate it so, but that bratty toe
withholds unless another does the squeeze
and my other thinks I caught an odd disease.


The elevator's odd occupant-CM

The man in the elevator
What an odd man indeed
He looks as if he's about to let out a thunderous sneeze
He taps his feet rapidly like an Irish jig
And his rotund ears are incredibly big
His eyes are wider than a tremendous gorge
And his stomach is almost touching the floor
Oh, the man in the elevator
What an odd man indeed
Unfortunately that odd man in the elevator
Is me

THE VALLEY

Walking through the mist of uncertainty,
Testing every odd and even,
Driven by a force of destiny,
To face the shadows in the valley’s haven.

Circumstance stands like a sentinel—
A wall of fear and bewilderment.
I wrestle on, heart fervent still,
The valley thick with entanglement.

Just when triumph seems in sight,
And hope burns faint yet bright,
A thundered voice breaks through the gloom,
Resounding deep—a sacred boom.

I lift my eyes and stand in awe:
Angels circle, fierce yet fair,
Girded with sword and shining spear—
Their presence whispers, “Do not fear.”

For even in the valley’s depth,
Where silence breathes and shadows creep,
A hand unseen secures my step—
And guards my soul while I yet weep.

Premium Member Odd Idea

What If The
Tribal Instinct
Is No Longer
As Evolutionarily
Advantageous As
It Clearly Once Was?

Embrace Us, Oh
Willing Players &
AI Alike...

We Are The
'Non-Players'
Who Cannot
Succumb...

The Neuro-Divergents.

-Gray Squirrel

10-02-2025

Premium Member odd

limping through nights alley
             bottles      bones     and       tin
    odd shadows told me
                turn the corner, run into yourself
                                    and  then you’ll  never  limp  again

Premium Member Odd, Isn't It

     ‘parsimonious’

        generous…

     with her syllables

the odd narrative

The Odd Narrative
Steamed up the window, my finger I paint a landscape,
Mountain, forest, and lake; the peak cries into
the lake becomes a vast ocean,
where trees made into wooden rafts floats
Midmorning, there is only an outline left of the crest,
this will happen to the Himalayas,
it will be a grassland on a plateau where horses gallop,
flying mane and all that,
since man won’t be there to domesticate and make them
drag bunk beds and kitchen stoves around the pampas.
The rest of the world will have sunk into a big sea that is so still
it spends all its time mirroring the blue sky thinking, it’s seeing
is so deeply in love with the image,
that doesn’t notice the man in a rowing boat; he’s one time forgotten,
he has married a big fish
which he thinks is a mermaid, often puts his hand in
the sea and strokes the fish’s belly: “without you,” he murmurs
“I would truly be alone.”

Premium Member Odd Hours

It’s four AM
I’m wide awake
no chance of more sleep
clicking noises 
from the dining room
low hum
is it voices?
I get up
pad into the dining room.
daughter and grandson
playing Yahtzee
at the dining table
laughing together
grandson worked late
daughter insomniac
I sit down
join the game
daughter finally
peels off for more sleep
grandson and I
continue playing
he makes a sandwich
cuts me up
an orange
I have an oatmeal
cookie with my coffee
grandson decides to 
go to bed
I stay up 
dress for church
write some poetry
it’s nine o’clock

Premium Member Untitled

there was a politician named Rod
who for his truth telling wanted to be lauded
but everyone knew better
that he was just another vote getter
because politicians and truth together are quite odd

Premium Member DDO

DDO  Reverse acrostic

Delightfully different, humans should not be 
Defined by categories based on behavior, beliefs or lifestyle
Otherwise, we would all be classified as odd.

I must be odd as I wrote this as a reverse acrostic!

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.

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