Unappealing Poems | Examples

UNSEEN IN PLAIN SIGHT

I am not quiet,
Not easily forgotten,
Yet somehow
Still unseen.

I feel it,
In the bones of my being,
This weight of being
Unappealing.

Not the kind
You’d walk toward.
Not the kind
That draws eyes or hearts.

It’s not like me
To say, “I hate myself,”
But sometimes,
That silence speaks louder.

Strangers
Faces I’ve never met,
Mouths that never called my name,
Eyes that never really saw me
Still, they judge.

They know me better than I do,
They say.
They define my shape,
My walk,
My worth.

And so, I wear it.
Their truth becomes mine.
And you
You’re beautiful,
Unique,
Undeniable.

You can see me.
I cannot.

And though it’s not like me
To admit this ache,
This shadow inside,
It is still me.
Still here.
Still hurting.

Invisible

Only those who’ve seen beauty can truly speak of it,
 And only those neglected can feel its sting.
 When the world sees you as a threat—
 Judging from a glance, no words spoken—
 They turn away,
 Despising you instantly.
To be unappealing in a world drawn to allure
 Can break a soul and leave it weak.
 Why did they take her side, though you were right?
 Because beauty holds weight
 In the court of public judgment.
How I loathe those who whisper,
 “Looks don’t matter.”
 If that were true,
 Why does the wisdom of the elderly
 Bow to the charm of youth?
If looks don’t matter,
 Why do we trust the innocent face
 And doubt the one marked by shadows?
Oh, if tears could speak the truth of our hearts,
 There’d be no room for misunderstanding.
 But when their light casts a shadow over you,
 No one sees you—
 It’s like standing beside a star.
I look into the mirror,
 Tracing each imperfection,
 A map of all the ways
 The world has made me invisible.

Don't Serve Me Anything Old and Cheesy

I've been served lots of unappetizing things 
that simply did not please my palette.
Being force fed with bitter or insincere words 
is unappealing presented as a crisp green salad.

I would rather be underfed and malnourished 
than to feast on something too briny or cheesy.
I won't feast on a buffet of regurgitated foods, 
like dill pickles offered as sour grapes... sleazy.

Nothing has more stench to me than rotten food. 
As an example, mold spores inside blue roquefort,
and don't ask me to swallow one bite of sarcasm. 
That would take far too much of my time and effort.

I'd spit out a spoon of any soup if in it swims a fly,
or if the spices were added by the hand of a hypocrite.
A warm peach cobbler would make a scrumptious dish
as long as inside there'd not be left on purpose... a pit.

Banana Bread

When life gives you lemons

You make lemonade

I am a banana

A beaten and bruised banana

Too ugly to sit on the marble countertop in the kitchen

Wouldn’t want the house to look poor and unkept, right?

The good news is that there are layers to the banana

The bad news is that when you peel the unappealing-looking exterior, a mushy interior meets your eye

Too soft to enjoy without leaving a bad taste in your mouth

When life gives you a banana like this

You make banana bread

I am a banana

I can’t make banana bread because I am a mere ingredient in the delicious pastry

I am the unwanted ingredient that can magically turn useful by the powers of others

I need flour to hold me together and keep me from going all over the place

I need sugar to make my softness appear sweet to others

I need baking soda to help me rise and grow out of my imperfections

And I need someone willing to put in the effort to make me into tasty banana bread

Damn, I want some banana bread right now

Who’s cookin’?

All Over

Talked Over:
Unappealing,
non-vocal,
nearly invisible

Looked Over:
Too young,
too old,
too short

Passed Over:
Avoided,
Unconnected,
ignored

Crossed Over:
Misaligned,
marked off

Worked Over:
No longer desired,
Over utilized

061024PS

Than We sing

Haru and RItm often seemed
out of place and often with
a certain concern.

Yindiao told Jidiao Giam Jiezou
not to Jiving Biayan
he was cheap on the Xuaniu
and lacked concern with
his Cantar's. He put a symbol to indicate
that they had only stumbled upon
the sounds and songs.
Only due to an alteration were they
clashed about what style they
wished to represent. Coda: divided
them as people. Some
where jealous
of each other.
Some were repositioned
because of there standings and appeal.
Six of us are alluring and Amorous
while others only had an uncertain appeal.
They dubbed some as Perfect voice
and unappealing: while the others
were super appealing and lacked
vocal giftiering.
Fussed they appealed to different sectors.
Ritm stood above the rest as he was 
Super appealing and had a strong proud bassey voice.
" A World should hear these men sing"
While there the instruments sound magical the background singers
sound soothingly perfect!"


The Music producer said he found one in a tobacco fild.And the other guy was a Machinist at a Nevada Lithium Mine. Bothe were Pianist and guitarist and one was a reknowed flutist.

Hidden Under the Mask

Misunderstood and used,
Insane, but always amused.

Secretive, worried, helpful,
Past is cloudy and dull.

Antisocial, big personal bubble,
Always running away from the troubles.

Runs head and helmet into everything,
All of her desires, closed, unappealing.

Too trusting, kept in the dark, curiosity got the better,
Covering up everything below, no one will forget her.

Smug

Smugness in human behaviour
Is such an unappealing trait
A smug word ,a smug smile
Only provokes hate

If a smug superior attitude 
Is all you offer and deliver
Zip your mouth and lock it
And throw the key in the river!!

Xanadu

Xanadu arose quite sublime
A few short hours, all is mine.
Deeply asleep dreaming alone
Wandering stately pleasure dome

Kubla Khan, it seems, is my friend
Around pleasure garden we did wend
Bathed in Alph the sacred river
Beauty bestowed it did deliver.

Whispers echo in Xanadu's cavern
Darkness dispelled by magic lantern 
Softly I spoke my echo to hear
It asked me bluntly what did I fear?

On reflection was not afraid
Of magical kingdom, I did invade
The sunless sea was unappealing
Yet, its waters promoted instant healing.

It has to be said a dream is just a dream
Where nothing is true not what it seems
Dream time shattered in morning light
Xanadu gone, it had taken flight.




 'X' - Poetry Contest
Chosen Word: Xanadu
Sponsored
by: 
Constance La France 
30/04/2033


Pixabay Image by: AlanFrijns

The Man of Her Dreams

The Man of Her Dreams

I wonder what she means when she says:
'I've met the man of my dreams'.

Is she one swipe away from Groundhog day?
or has she met a keeper,
someone who won't harm or mistreat her.

Does he talk about the future, next week, next month,
Or does he wince when she suggests getting some sun?

Does he really want to know how she is feeling,or does he find displays of emotion, unappealing?

Does he make a real effort, does he buy her random flowers,  send her
lovely texts?

Does he see her as a complete person,
not body parts, or a pretty face?

Does he turn into a basket case, when she has bad days?

Outlook

when I last looked
snow sprawled in
like an embrace from a foreign world
outdoor walk suspended
by squabbles of sleeted wet
unappealing chords
of ice pellets that stand hair on edge
to coat a hatless head in splinters

force that shapes a winter's pace
implanted temper
abrasions
in tracks of snow
as February squeezes into loins
an ache

my icy fingers
trace the window, vaporized
a shield of separation
a pledge of freedom re-booted
like green paths rising
a shifting focus
till March tramps into place
month of mis-rule
ornamental promise
that a turnstile world
clangs change
when I next look
to turn the page





Poem written February 23, 2023

Winter Solstice

Winters Solstice seems like a never-ending Earthly purgatory
The sun has taken less than more to a different story
It's January, the last true warmth my cold face can remember
It seems so infinitely long ago since that first week of November
This storm of feeling overcast is so unappealing 
Ninety-five days more requires persevering
Its for the guaranteed promise of springs revealing
We stand tall against this dirt covered white gloom
She will eventually change from icy to a world in bloom

Through Bigoted Eyes

As imperfect humans, we judge perceived on what our eyes see
It's a mistake many of us make, and not based on a heart's purity.
A trait that shows we are prejudiced and biased against others
of different races and religious beliefs, of our sisters and brothers.

We were all created in the image and likeness of our Father, God.
To realize a person's value, we must look deeper than their facade,
but we label people by appearance without personal interaction.
Iniquitous of our subconscious to let outward looks be an attraction.

Were that all eyes were blind to a beautiful face or a muscular form
we would treat each other with a demeanor more pleasant and warm.
Too often we don't bother trying to learn what's in a person's heart
before our minds tell us, "I'm going to tear this unworthy one apart."

Shouldn't we look past a person's age, or unappealing physical features?
To hold that against them makes us small-minded, bigoted creatures.
We're guilty of doing a disservice to good people if we fail to perceive
what is undetectable to our eyes. First impressions often tend to deceive.


January 8, 2023
The Way We Look Contest
Sponsor: Unseeking Seeker

Musk I Smell As Such

I leave a trail that emanates on every tree that I walk past.
A scent that tells I have been here, that this is my home.
A smell of comfort and sincerity, that is my own presence.

It can be as strong in strength as it can be sweet in attraction.
To you or to your friend it can appear as something unappealing,
to the right people it is a necessary thing.

For the rest, it is an introduction to who I am.
In my own bizarre way I say; Nice to meet you!
How strong my MUSK is, feels like an iron grip.

But don't mask my MUSK, there is no reason to or just because.
It's just me walking along, and my scent has to be in the air.
So I can see those who want to fight, and those who are amorous.

Unappealing Pursuits

I see you over there; you are smiling aimlessly, but inside everything feels misaligned. Are you lying to yourself? Hoping that one day you will spot the signs. Patiently waiting for the tide to turn, praying everything will turn out all right. Living on your own every day despite the darkness in your mind. Have you ever considered repairing what drives your motivational force? Have you been able to perceive streams of light? All that is hidden within eventually comes to light - sometimes it just takes time. The fight inside of you can never die. It is your power. Be careful, for its not a tool to be used without the purest intention and clearest of minds. The moment should never result in a lasting crime. Remember, when the day is over, the sun is down and most of the world is not consciously around, the one you talk the most with lives inside your head and will remain until you are dead. So might as well find the beauty in the unappealing pursuits ahead.

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