Spot Poems | Examples

Ode To An Ocelot

Not a lot of ocelots
are seen in the day
they prefer the evening
or the night
if an ocelot you're hot to spot
altho' it's quite a long shot
an ocelot you want to sight
you may even hit the jackpot
if you do it right
all you've really got to do
is switch off the light

Blind Spot

Why can't my blind spot see?
it’s shadowing me        in the eye's periphery 
edgily creeping                   sideways like a crab,
watching me,                      it’s stalking me, 
deceiving me                    with popped eyes 
propped up on stilts,    curling away when I look.
You live within my every gaze, yet evade my searching blaze.
Why my dear spot do you hide and blind me in so many ways?
Is your evasive spot futile, furtive, or a fugitive in the clear?
Are you black, white, brindle or transparently clear. 
Do you suck, poke, protrude, grind
or cut, with a laser sear to blind. 
Why can't I see you,
my blind spot hole?
I know you’re there
unseen on the edge!
I’ll shut my eyes now
and hope that you’ll
will be gone when 
I awake and stare
to see you clearly there with me,
scene sharing two-eyed
In binocular vision.

Hit the Sweet Spot, Sweetie

Ever so sweet
is kernel hub,
the power button,
so neat, tiny and mighty.

But the sweet spot
can sour with
too much power
to savor its glory.

For to score is fragile,
furtive and futile,
when a near miss,
catches the edge.

It's easily bruised,
easily abused,
easily overused,
overdone and missed.

The soft spot sweetie,
requires a gentle touch,
with panache, pizzazz,
flair and feeling.

Spot Dreams

Spot Dreams

I watch his paws twitch
ears upright listening
his soft growls, he corners his prey
even in sleep he dreams
the cat can’t escape

Dot

People think I am a separator of two sentence
Surely, in my mind I have no vengeance,

I am just a full stop to a line
But I have more to gain,

I am a small round mark
But all can make me dark,

I am just a short click
And easily you can pick,

I am a buzz forming a letter
In fashion, I am used better,

I am a center point of two numbers
Hence, it is used by many members,

I am on every spot
Hence, People call me dot (.).

Untitled

I am a young pup named Spot
today I will be resting on my cot
I would say 
to you cats today
get plenty of rest you’ll need it

A Haunting Spot

Pearl
rapids
steam cascade 
haunting  canvass 
a red dawn smoulder 
to prise sluggish eyelids 
of zestful bright mood  riser 
who gulps in  rapt awestruck spoonfuls 
of mosaic zone enthralled  enclave 
awash with random sun drenched blue pool plops 
Where giddy children cast green hue pebbles
 as dulcet birds tweet from gaunt elm twigs
and rainbow trouts skim silver streams
wet grass clumps sag on mud banks
a grey fleck morning haze
that scene shift migrant
a spring usher’s
mint leaf scent
in faint,
gust

X marks the spot

Monstrously Machievellian

Demonic pedagogic

Ominously Orwellian

Demagogic logic 

Fools’ Musk-ovite mules

Zuckerberg zeitgeist heist

Dickensian dystopia rules

Google last post bugle 

Fossil fuels myopia drools

Bellicose Bezos blows

Bro-ligarchy mates’ malarkey

Unions demonstrate

Amazon defenestrate 

Hades Gates hierarchy

In the dock

Murdoch foxy skulduggery

Poxy TikTok runs amok

Crass puns..shock thuggery

This lot don't give a jot
.
Bitter sh**ter Twitter

Greedier needier seedier

The death of mass media

X marks the spot!

Prime Spot Butterfly Cinquain

                   I’m off 
              to get closer,
   you know where to find me. 
Follow my voice to the front row!
                Prime spot!
 I want to catch all of the sweat
         flying off his jacket,
         feel the song pound 
                 my chest.

X-Marks-the-Spot

X-Marks-the-Spot is a tickling game
Which is traced upon someone’s bare back.
In childhood, we played it and often it caused
A goose-bump filled giggling attack.

My kids got the treatment when bathtime arrived
And my grandson when he was a tot,
But it’s been a while since I’ve gotten the chance
To engage in some X-Marks-the-Spot.

Yet I came upon Henry, eleven years old,
In the process of donning his tee
And the canvas was waiting for X-Marks-the Spot,
Just the cue for a tickle from me.

“I remember this, Nana!” he said as he smiled.
“Can you write down the words?” which I did,
Just delighted to think such a game’s been preserved
From my long-ago time as a kid.

God's Favorite Spot in the Universe

When a mother bird decides to build a nest
She selects a spot that she deems is best.
The sheer survival of her species rest
On the precious eggs she lays in that nest.

When God decided he would build a home
The entire universe He would comb
To find the spot that He knew would be best
For His image-bearers to safely rest.

Science confirms God chose the ideal spot
To sustain all forms of life on this dot.
When the creation of the orbs was done,
The earth was the right distance from the sun.

After the holy pair were placed on the earth
God’s daily visit filled their hearts with mirth.
After sin, God came down with man to dwell
And then to die in man’s place and taste hell.

When He comes again to make earth anew
He’ll dwell with His saints eternally through.
God will leave His throne in heaven above
to live on earth with the people He loves.

7 Spot Winner a song

©7 Spot Winner  - Artimus The Poet, Susan Manley 12/24/2024

Inspired by a meme and my boyfriend.

Sweet Spot

Sweet Spot

On the ever shifting sands of time
The spectrum of human action balances 
On a fulcrum between extremes:
Total government and tyranny on the Left
Zero government and anarchy on the Right,
Two ways that on paper may look good
Until practice proves them otherwise.

And in the course of this rise and fall
Systems are engineered to cope
In waves of thesis, antithesis and synthesis
Unloosed to compete for hearts and votes
In the marketplace of ideas and commerce 
Seeking a sweet spot, a middle way, free of extremes
Where the individual’s rights are protected 
By a limited government, from an unlimited one 
And all other predatory entities.

And when this spot is tasted
Balanced for an instant
The tipping point is reached,
The teeter becomes a totter,
And we ride the cycle of up and down again
Until exhausted, defeated or victorious
And leave the playground to the next generation,
Eyes bright and eager for hope and change.

(12/15/24)

when I spot a squirrel

When I spot a squirrel
It is never common, ordinary or naked
They are usually fully dressed without a smile
The one I spied this morning wore a blue shirtwaist
When she ran up a tree, I saw white eyelet on her pantaloons
I wisely keep some of these observations to myself.

Point And Spot

trying to set that neat point
the point is big,
to small spot

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