Proofread Poems | Examples

A Full Dose of Poetry

Each morning I take a full dose of poetry
Reading and evaluating the New Poems List,
I thoroughly enjoy the amount of diversity
Even while shaking my head, you get my gist.

Reading and evaluating the New Poems List
I’m reminded everyone thinks they’re a poet,
Even while shaking my head, you get my gist
Having a way with words, needing to show it.

I’m reminded everyone thinks they’re a poet
Many are not gifted with rhythm and rhyme
Having a way with words, needing to show it,
Before posting, proofread it one more time!

Many are not gifted with rhythm and rhyme
Good poets know these important techniques
Before posting proofread it one more time,
Learn to accept the value of sincere critiques.

Good poets know these important techniques
I thoroughly enjoy the amount of diversity
Learn to accept the value of sincere critiques
Each morning I take a full dose of poetry. 

Written November 21, 2022

Tea Break Poems

TEA BREAK POEMS

Last year I wrote a book of poems you see,
so I could believe that it was really me.
I thought that I could edit,
mistaken was I to take such credit!

I sent it through by email, was proofread,
but a press of the button and it was gone,
now nothing could I mend.
Commas, full stops, capitals, and such,
oh how stupid, this is far too much.

Reply from Amazon was as expected,
two out of four stars for what I had neglected.
Well serves me right I said out loud,
I searched my heart, I was not proud.

I decided then and there I would try again.
This year began with with a determined yen,
 but this time I would do things right,
I found someone who could edit, sheer hindsight.

 In August, caught Covid, health seemed dim,
hospitalised 6 days, I prayed a lot to Him.
I came home, but still not well.
My family and friends so worried, I was not swell.

25th September, Amazon wrote to inform me,
My book had been published on Amazon Kindle.
 ‘Tea Break Poems’ rated four out of four,
and a glowing review, I needed no more.

A Poem

A poem drifts through the mind,
Fleetingly at first, then settles in
Lingering, until a place it finds
Among its rhyming verses’ kin.
A poem seeks the fertile ground
Where it can come to full fruition.
The poet when its words are sound
Will proofread it to its completion.

A poem may see wide publication
Be read by hundreds near and far,
Who knows, may even get a citation
[Though few poets become stars!]
A poem will be read over many times
Often the name of the poet is lost,
But a poet lives on through rhymes
Having a poem read is worth the cost. 

Written October 2, 2022

Soup Mails

None of us are in a classroom, we’re way past junior high.
There’s no need to be snarky, so come back down from the sky.

This site is for those who dabble in the poetry art.
When you send a scathing soup mail, your words just smell like a fart.

The next time you’re feeling sassy, and you are ready to hit send.
Are you looking to make an enemy or are would you rather make a friend?

Try counting to ten and put down that fist you just shook.
Then take a look around this kitchen, you are not the only Cook!

We all have bad days that send our minds a whirl.
That doesn’t give us the right, to be a snotty little boy or girl.

Be sure to proofread your message and understand it fully.
Are you trying to be supportive, or are you just being a bully?

Writer's Hazard

Do your fingers ever write faster
Than your brain thinks of the words?
You discover incomplete sentences
That do not mean what you thought.
You find that you’ve omitted a verb
And so, your phrase has no action,
A modifier left unsaid, no traction.
In a comment, or, in writing a blurb
Proofread before sharing what's wrote.
As for you, I can think of instances
Where inadvertent omits were hazards
More often for me, they’re a disaster. 

Written April 1, 2022
[Verso-Rhyme]

It Is What It Is

“It is what it is” works like a charm --
One could say “it’s what it’s,” no harm,
For "it’s" stands for “it is,” in the grammar book
A fact every careful writer should not overlook.
“Its stand is admirable”; never “It’s stand is admirable”
In writing poetry, the correct form is desirable! 
“It’s” doesn’t work when writing “its lack of pizzazz”
It’s is a contraction for “it is,” I repeat, and all that jazz
While “its” denotes “belonging to,” rightfully,
Use them correctly and your poem reads delightfully.

If I am wrong, please let me know right away
“It’s” a pet peeve of mine; “its” incorrect usage drives me insane,
When used incorrectly in a poem, indeed,
It tells me you did not proofread!

written February 2, 2022

Spellceckers, Down

SpellCeckers, Down!
 ——————————————————————-
I’m Spellcheckers.  I’ll read your mind,
Starting always from two lines behind.
So, you’ll use up all your time
Going back to proofread every line, 
Not for your errors, but for mine.

I’m a pure-bred SpellCheckers.  Even
Presidents, those haughty men,
Don’t like me, like when 
I turn “fiend” from “friend,” or, then
When writing the nation’s budgets,
   I’ll change their “land” 
      to “lend.”  Hear Ye! I’m more than

A pouf-wearing proofer,  I’m Mother!
“I know you better than you do.”
Gimme a second, I’ll proof it to youse
Look, in the necks Poem, I’ll let loose!

———————————————————————————-
(c) sally young Eslinger 12/31/21

It Boggles the Mind

They put up a sign on the highway
Which pointed the way to a bridge,
Replacing the prior one, thinking
Perhaps it improved things a smidge.

But yikes! No one bothered to proofread;
The name of the bridge was misspelled.
If I were the person in charge, well,
They’d censor the words I’d have yelled.

It boggles the mind to imagine
How something so stupid occurred.
A double-check would have made certain
Such nonsense would have been deterred.

A Failed Attempt At Creativity

The kindred spirit, whisks towards the moon. 
I no longer fear it, for the night is soon. 
A ghost full of rage, springs for the sun. 
As I turn the page, the scripts almost done. 
A march towards peace, a step towards ruin. 
A hollowed crease, a reasoning proven. 
The script calls for a plan, and you’ve taken action. 
Where is your man, the once loving attraction?
As we proofread the draft, do you shed a tear?
So many scenes we laughed, but the end is my fear.
We called for longer writing, more chances for life. 
We got caught amongst the fighting, a standstill in strife. 
Resume the scene, yet cut to the ghost alone. 
Knowing where he’s been, only knowing what he’s shown. 
The spirit has fled, the moans fill the halls. 
The day they’d wed, an animosity calls. 
The ghost sits in silence, a heart filled in violence. 
End the show, cut all the lights. 
The tears flow, calling forth blights.
The curtain falls, the spirit calls. 
The ghost decays, his presence unneeded. 
His heart still plays, with hope once seeded. 
The audience left, now there is no one. 
The time was theft, the life undone.

Weeds

When you plant good seeds watch out for weeds. They will try to supersede and snuff out all good deeds.

Because weeds grow to impede and to do misdeeds. Once freed the weed will proceed to take the lead and have you treed indeed.

So take heed, when you plant your seeds, watch for weeds,  if you feed,  they will breed and will make you concede.

Proofread, then proceed with Godspeed.

Comma

When I was younger, I would constantly proofread my suicide letter. 
God forbid the last thing I be remembered by be an incorrectly used comma. 
These days, I write poetry that merely dance around the subject. 
It's worrisome to others, but I personally prefer this art to perfecting a last goodbye.

Misspelled

I feel like I want to cross the boundaries with you
I feel like I want to tell you about me, my feelings about you
I feel like I need not to
Am afraid of losing you if I do so 
Am afraid that I don't have that pass
Even thou you are my biggest sport to cheer

Do I have to spell correctly? 
Do I have to proofread?
Or do you want me to come mispelled?
Or do you want me to keep no time?

Because I will misspell, if you want me too

We'Re Not Papers In Crime

We're not papers in crime
Nothing to be discussed
Of what it was
Favor bliss of an epic 
And it's verdict
But you fill those empty spaces
Of empty scratches
Of empty me
You give proofread of who I really am
And it's successes
You're an ink of never ending
Always refilled and never broken
It's red just like thee
And your humanity
For what is the use of life
Nor the use of words?
Without any risks?
We're not papers in crime
Our hearts sublime
Beyond time I bow down
And I'll be fine.

The Consequences of Typos

The Consequences of Typos

By Elton Camp

A typo can be far from a minor thing
Discredit and rejection it can bring
See what such errors might have meant
And if these would have gone to print

This book from Papa wouldn’t be
With the title, “Old Man and the See”
Faulkner’s book would we be spying
If it was sent out, “As I lay Lying?”

If typed, “Beast of Eden,” we would expect
Rejection and “Oh heck!” from Steinbeck
“The Little Boxes” would never do
Lillian Hellman the results would rue

If called, “Look Homeward Angle,”
Wolfe, a publisher would never wrangle
If the typo was “Of Lice and Men,”
Steinbeck badly disappointed again

If called “The Ramen” by Edgar Poe
The printing house would’ve said “No”
If  a publisher a writer does need
It pay to very carefully proofread

Honest Man Lies

I watch as time goes by
Idly I might add
No sense to evermore deny
Rather more I am glad

They say time is given
They say time I mustn’t waste
To only agree time to be certain
For its time I’m not wanting to chase

So much rules... one too many
If you knew... no one abides
For truth hasn’t at all the credibility
When in life... even the honest man lies

Wouldn’t you wanna know the truth?
Truth is... there is no truth that is true
Its like time... simply staying aloof
Like truth to be guided by a proofread rule

Time I let go by
I am truly glad
For no more I need deny
To be idly I might add

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