Short Misread Poems

an idea suffocated by conversation
a stifling situation completely misread 
rhyming words falling apart
so I'll dream up some others instead...

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Cyril the short-sighted cook,
Misread the recipe book,
It said add custard
But he instead added mustard,
The hot dessert made everyone crook....

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Glowing like a hot fire
Any shade of red just won't do;
Renegade shadows 
Nearly misread as blood; 
Energizing the cold 
The flame of January....

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The life of a magicians cat is dread
Especially when old spells are misread
He magicked a canary
But alas, O'contrary
I ended up in the darn cage instead...

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For that one shining moment
I thought you were mine
A fragile house of cards
Constructed in my heart

I misread the lyrics
The song was not for me
I know it never was
Should have read more carefully...

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Finally through fading fog
to crash into new weather;
Striking back with equal force,
they thought they found a worthy foe;
Stronger now but so was she;
Misread the torrential fight
within a storm flying blind....

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Owning the consequence
of all that you do

Intentions when pure,
dark minds misconstrue

When twisted and spun,
then torn into shreds

The words once pristine
—denounced when misread

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2021)...

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your eyes told me you'd never leave me
and I believed it
your voice soothed my worries, and promised nothing but peace.
and I believed it
you may not have said you loved me
but the way you held me, made me believe you might.
I was wrong.
I read you all wrong....

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They misread, not misjudged, what was being said.
I lugged it up with my tenebrous mirrorings instead.

The denial to force trials remains an aware voidance.
And my calm is lit, despite the sprinkler's presence.

Written: January 21, 2022...

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S he coyly looked at me that day
E yes beckoning for an approach
D are I venture on my way
U nnerved by her reproach
C autiously I introduce myself
T errified her glance was misread
I nstinctively keeping my desire stealth
O bsessed with the sexuality she bled
N ot realizing she was the seducer instead...

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some neurons are easily led ~ feeding on one that's sick in the head 

  logic fails them the signal misread ~ out of control a cancer spreads 

  thought consumed a mind misled ~ begins eating itself alive instead 

  pointed words allusively said ~ can’t resurrect what was always dead


 By
David Kavanagh...

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every now
and again

and again
there is a

shot that's
heard around

the
world

maybe it's
something

said or maybe
it is or its misread

but when spoken
or said or sung

even painted 
or even hung

when served
palette plate

or tongue
one knows

this is a shot
or shhhh

it heard 
round the 
world...

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A forest path does wind,
All shrubs with love entwined
Atop trees, monkeys live,
Another deathly strive
Abhorrent humans lie,
And trees, grass, shrubs will sigh
As oxygen will die

Unfortunately misread the rules for this contest, so I am withdrawing

Entering contest 
The " Pleiades 3 poetry Contest
Sponsor Joseph May
2020/10/25...

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The Cell

These bars confine and constrain
A cage of my own design
Built of illusions, wishes
A picture of a life dreamed

Chapters read, misread
My compass deflected
The map outdated, no one spoke
Signposts faded and fallen

Life larger than this cell
Expanding, awareness awakening
Testing these feeble boundaries
Self imposed, self removed

Stoic...

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He is waiting for someone else
to put the words into his mouth
instead, he would say out loud his own.
And as pretending the singing, 
he merges into unpossessed voices
hiding his song in the noise.
I cannot make out his words, though:
I misread his lips - mistaking a pop song for a pray; 
a lip-synced psalm, 
and believe every word he shares....

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I destroy it all
When feeling small
When I feel alone
I embrace the fall

True words come out
Without a doubt
I pitch a fit
I scream and shout

I make my bed
Like it’s been said
Though not quite fair
I’ve been misread

But no one cares
For scars I wear
I lost control
They point and stare

I’ll never face
An ounce of grace
For, I was wrong
And out of place...

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Jaded unbecometh truth
forlorn thee heart being torn
madness of the reapers might
sadness be the weepers night

Darkened wings of night befalling
upon tear stained pillows comfort
dread is read as blood flow bled
as life becometh hard misread

Journey's other trail of tears
releasing all that one once fear
love is dear,as also near
cleaning what was once a smear.........

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Real me


Upma Sharma my name,
Passionate heart,
Mercurial bubbly being,
Always lost in words,

Sea deep desires,
Horizon sends an invite,
Arrows ache my tender heart,
Rising sea throws me back to start,
Mistaken misread sometimes,
Acclivity and admiration keep me alive!


Written September 11th, 2014
By Dr. Upma A. Sharma
For contest 'Keep it real' by SKAT A

Awarded 6th place...

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With a spark to get the goal,
I set myself ablaze.

Discoverers are rovers,
Misread as directionless.

Trendsetters are drifters,
Misinterpreted as irresolute.

Innovators are venturers,
Misconstrued as frivolous .

What a falsified perception about me,
Of being an aimless wanderer,
Like a toy car striking wall and moving wayward.

I am on my way to my expedition,
With a zeal of reconnaissance ,
Voyager I am !!...

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O~ what dread
My muse in bed
Dear me~ that's ink she's bled
Tried sopping it with bread
Her boots been filled with lead
I think she's good as dead

O~ good grief she said
Shaking her head
You've been misled
You plain misread
She left her body there and fled



Submitted on August 4, 2020 for contest FAVOURITE POEM IN RHYME FROM JULY 2019 sponsored by JULIA WARD

Originally posted on July 29, 2019...

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everyone has been mistaken 
and mistakened
and suddenly awakened
everyone has been misread
and over and under analyzed instead
and woken up alive rather than dead
everyone has been misinterpreted
acted out actions and thought out thoughts
regretted
and mass-apathetically indebted
listen to me -- ignorance is not bliss
open your eyes and open your fists
we are all the same
because we think that we are different...

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Acquiesce
(ak-wee- ESS”
By: Miracle Man
12-5-2019

I’ve never been accused of having finesse,
I get to the point without using much tact. 
Most times without showing acquiesce,
I cover the bases, without being abstract.

But now, I’m endeavoring to gingerly tread,
Yet sometimes I still become exasperated.
So to others my words won’t be misread,
 My conversation abruptly becomes truncated.

My Birthday Poem
...

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Wisdom over brains
One friend over fame
Love over wealth
Humility over anything else
A slow dance over a fast
The present over the past
Life over regret
A Sunrise over a sunset
A day dream over a night one
Clouded skies over a bright sun
Selfless over selfish 
Perspective over helpless
Words written over words spoken
A introvert over a people person
Misunderstood over Misread
Heart over head 
Rhyme over reason
Poems over bleeding
I am over I was
I AM over I WAS...

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All these promises,
left unsaid-
so misread
cause you'd rather feel the guilt instead.
Not quite understanding,
grasping the truth
toxic puzzles
repeating tiles of disaster
always this beginning with you
hating to admit it
excusing all flaws 
my heart can't take it-
triggering the kryptonite
and your eyes grow oblique
in your ceased body
and just when I almost believed..
I stepped out of the game
and the epiphany set in
there was nothing to begin with-
imagination that was changed....

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Speaking My Mind
Miracle Man
6/7/2023
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     
I would say much with little, if I had my druthers,
by being precise so that what I say isn’t misread.
I could make my point without paining others,
by taking care in what I say and how It’s said.
...

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