Typecast Poems | Examples

Fear Only Fear

Afraid to ask
Afraid to cast
Afraid to hear
Afraid of jeer

Fear is delaying truth
Fear is growing from youth
Fear is reliving the past
Fear is irrational typecast

Asking diffuses fear
Talking reduces veering
Trying clears fear
Chose to steer

Earth Interval

     Typecast pivot rips past apart
     Scars inflicted by the furnace 
     Scatter derma with war stars
     Astronomy faraway magnifies 
     Little shards of light filaments
     Filtered shadow breaks brittle 
     

     Tucked amongst terra, tubers
     Crowd needy until seeker turns
     Space ahead academy shunned
     Parallel gripped group tightens 
     Outrage stoops, begger’s plight 
     Entombed below fossilised earth

 
     Dust skull sockets consumed
     Grazing on ash grain garbage
     Gamma ray gardener unfazed
     Leans into lambent movement 
     Moonbeam harvest penetrates
     Microscopic split creates twins


     Mind unbound by tribulations
     Scales ether, nova knowledge 
     Constellation inured in growth 
     Reaches for chaos, apex prime
     Shivers bravely beyond Pluto
     Fragility faces future undiluted





      First of October 
        Flying Over

Pools amassed

I formed in the heavens; they built me in a pure overcast
Concrete looks far too weak to break my fallings contrast
All flower petals decreed a landscape grown to everlast
I will nurture them; in Sun to Moon, this time lines passed
Are you the reapers breaking their stem via fatal dismast?
I will defeat you with relentless moisture unsurpassed
Nourishment is my very gift to the fortifying fibroblast
I am not one, I am Legions found in the storms forecast
Absorbed, watering them and feeding until all are colorfast
From springs Allium till autumn's Zinnia falls hard and fast
I am raindrops acting out the script for which I'm typecast
Draw me in my friends before we are just pools amassed

country living

an actor he was typecast

a soldier hit by a blast

but as of today

he's out mowing hay

farming a dramatic past.

The Sea Goats Allegory

Aquarium realms
of anointed fools
masquerade as sensibility

Typecast foolscap
tired typewriters ribbons
don't have a prolonged head

Between the streets
where the drunkard
spins his tales

A strange panacea
scattered snakes
launch ta ta  tee

Oh sang the Sea goat
his change as constant as the tide
strangely sympathising
the endless wave

Imminent Iceberg

imminent iceberg is inching closer
to the passengers on board
catastrophe typecast

Typecast Kin

by the sea on shore
birds squawk squabble and jostle
feathered typecast kin

Dramaturge

I portrayed the knave of hearts again,
A role it would seem I was made for.
I ventured off script and silenced my critics
By drinking them under the table.

Classically trained in the tavern arts,
I’m a boozy, bibulous sot.
A virtuoso of chugging a tankard,
A maestro of downing a shot.

I've been typecast as a barfly.
It's the same old morality play.
I’ll adlib my lines to upstage the lead,
And be star of this grim cabaret.

Typecast

Fathers of that era
did not hug or touch or
intimate their love.
He was the same

Did he love us, we his
kin, his blood-seed. He
did not say, yet I 
believe he did.

He was a provider, for
sure. A taste for beer,
never dissolute and
he smoked as most
working folk, did then.

An adept gardener, his
vegetables supplemented
our meagre rationed diet.
Did he care, he never
said, I’m sure he did.

What made him tick,
deep down, I mean
where only introspectives,
types like me will 
sometimes dig.

It is easy, so easy
to theorise. His
generation, strong
and silent, did not 
discuss such things,

especially with his son,
such things were never
done. Maybe..perhaps
with Mum. Feelings 
were not shared but

held back, within.
A reservoir of emotions
controlled, withheld
until death shatters
the dam.

Is that why I cried
so, the day he died
and still I wonder..
did I cry for me,
or was it for him

Colorless

I am a product of my next of kin
so in their image, through evolution 
determined pigmentation of my skin
of human historic distribution,

a complexion that I am powerless 
though never shall I ever be ashamed
typecast as white, to me I'm colorless
yet in my veins my red blood is contained,

we are creations of mother nature
earths location dictates our appearance
heredity determines our future
to me white or black makes no difference,

we are inhabitants of planet Earth
whatever color we were at our birth.


01/13/2018
Contest what is white
Sponsored by Debbie Guzzi.

A Ladle of Forms Sit In the Cradle

A Ladle of Forms Still Sit In The Cradle


A week has past
Questions were asked 
Them truly lambaste
For their lemons vast
Leaving readers aghast
In view of better typecast
The flock may hold fast
A herder's iconoclast
Say, sheared wool for the enthusiast?
But hear ye what's in the forecast?

connie pachecho

10/18/17

Note-In the wake of poor poetry form examples, like the ABC form,
here at PS, where the featured poems do not even come close to
following the definition, words of condemnation needed to be addressed.
A week has passed, sigh, nothing has been done.

A Dairy of An Opsimath

Thirty years of my life have flown pass
I am in danger of being typecast
Working 9 – 5 everyday
For nothing but minimum pay

It’s at this time I decided to change
Find a way to exchange
My mundane life that I have lived
Into something I myself have derived

Back to university for me
To study a degree
A degree in what is yet to be seen
I just need to decide whilst I’m still green

I am proud to call myself an opsimath
Its taken me years to find my path
Now, that I am on the right track
There is no turning back

I’m the oldest in my class by far
But please don’t label me and put me in a jar
Please don’t discard me like a used tissue
At the end of the day I’m the same as you

Fingers crossed this will be a new start
A new page on my flip chart
Three years in university here we go!
hopefully, I will update you again in a year or so....

You Best Think Twice

There was a time in years long past
We thought good taste would always last
Adults were neat in proper dress
Now all has changed, they look a mess.

Shorts cut so high we’re now aghast
Tops cut so low, breasts holding fast
Not much is really left to guess
You best think more, not wear less!

First impressions most always last
It’s too late now, the die is cast
Hoodies, baggy pants don’t impress
That sloppy look won’t bring success
For with your image you’re typecast
Don’t let your future be bypassed!

Round World No Sides

ROUND WORLD NO SIDES 

Tragically, while our country's weep,
we'll be nice to Nice, and hold up France. 
We are bruised and beaten bloody red, 
holding down Baton Rouge's dismal stance.

The children fall and forever sleep
in Nice, they're cold in Sandy Hook.
Adults are lost in Bernardino,
Orlando, and everywhere we look.   

Whose turn is next to be a black sheep, 
typecast by color and then oppressed?
Carnage of Cowboys and Indians,
now play Cops and Robbers out west.

What are the religions we should keep,
in belief of one or many gods? 
Religions for good and for the love
are together, viciously at odds.  

Broadcasts of NASA with a furtive peek,  
we seek aliens so benevolent. 
in ignorance and dull denial, 
that on earth we are malevolent.

Political hatred, yes we heap,
on friend, neighbor, sister or brother. 
In slander and in backbiting brawl,
proving we don't love one another. 

When do we all take that quantum leap, 
learning about compassion faster?
If we see that we each own ourselves, 
will there be need for slave or master? 

By Edlynn Nau
© July 19, 2016

Terms of Endearment

This is western society,
How much is distorted realism?
Talk in sinister sexism,
Casually call criticism,
Typecast fashion femmes,
What about men?
High heels or no,
They'll call you a ho!
You can't blame women,
For control mechanisms!
Emotional blackmail, 
A world run by males,
We should empower the young,
For their lives in the sun,
When was misogyny begun?
Any real chance of equality,
in our western society?

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