Short Percentile Poems

Green scissors that never cut a thing,
seen always as outside of the box;
Gene gave me this vivacious vision 
keen to lean towards unorthodox;

Wrong side of the road is where I live,
along with others who share my smile;
Headstrong creatives we’re colorful;
Lifelong punch of the tenth percentile....

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Tomorrow marks the 
first day of fourth grade
We head to the doctor
We get weighed
At 40 lbs, I am in the fifth percentile
that's a good score, right?


My sad life poems have been compiled into a larger series
The sad life series is followed by 
Healing and hardships
The OK times
Splintering
Return
School
School and covid
And finally into 2023...

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She had aspirations
Wanted to belong
Hung out in swanky clubs
With the creme de la creme
That percentile with pure blue blood
Attended all the soirees
She dressed the part
Loved to strut her stuff
Never turning down a challenge
She blew till she was blue
A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do



Submitted on January 7, 2019 for contest BLUE sponsored by CRAIG CORNISH...

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some people make good prisoners
I would not be one of them
most people never get caught
I would be in the unusual half percentile that does

Some people like a roommate
until they see their open toilet
a roommate would hate me
I am up and down all night and gassy

I try to tow the line
I do not break into houses
or hurt people or steal things
for these and hundreds of other reasons...

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******************************P************************


Paranormal peasants of a pathetic and patient percentile
                 perpetrate peace from perjury..
    A patriarch, parallel to a peaceful partisan passage..




******************************M************************


Meditation maliciously masks my mighty monogamous minx.
Modestly managing my machismo, mastering my maturity.


Jared Pickett
4/06/2010
Asavvy1...

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Mistaken by the view in front of your eyes
Like poison the itch on your skin to rise
making it hard for you to see

misunderstanding thee percentile rate
undermining your psychotic state
your messages and signals have been foul play

not the same as yesterdays child play
never judging your perspective 
of what the truth should be

grasping the fact of what the human mind
expects the lies to be
letting time fly away from thee
...

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