Ungracefully Poems | Examples

Aging Ungracefully

Crappy, crepey skin
What a shape I'm in
Is it inherited though
Watch out daughters for
The warning signs or
It will slip up on you so

Fast as speeding car
Superman by far
Get on it keep it at bay
Whom am I kidding
There is no ridding
Age comes and steals youth away

Cello

Skirt hiked up
legs ungracefully spread,
sexually inviting.

The cello drums her,
blind angels
gyrate in a deep darkness.

The cellos voice is her own,
her body sings through
one hollowing mouth.

I am mesmerized by her closed eyes,
her moon drenched emotions.

The bow is low
it nudges me somewhere,
there is no name for that place,

it is somewhere inside a sadness,
a cavern of fading echoes
where joy waits
to be noticed.

Salty Singularity

We're born- we live-we take-we give.
We knead love while churning hate.
Love comes through the curtain unabated
then leaves with a clack, like the song of a raven.

We sashay into open hearts... 
unleashing a maelstrom of fiery darts.
God prunes the root of our pain
and balms the burning in the brain...
in return we curse his blessed name.

We rage -we rejoice-aging ungracefully.
Every breath is a gilded blessing...I think.
The sundial is cranked up to full speed. 
My circle shrinks into a salty singularity...

Woman and Cello

Skirt hiked up
legs ungracefully spread
inviting.
Between those limbs, chords darken.
Do I lean into the cello
or her?
A deep ewer of sound
pours from deft palpating fingers,
while her other hand
strokes the pulse of a
sonorant beast
carved from blood and lava.
Her body croons
wrists cuffed to the music,
closed eyes
bathe naked in dark pools.
A depth climbs to a tree top
yet the music
is still the lowest place on earth.
I am bound to the music in her,
by the sweep of her arm,
the weeping intensity
of her shoulders,
the cantabile purse
of her parted lips.
There is no place to be
other than inside
the voice
but whose voice?
My bare skull drums
to a spiccato cadence,
as her bow taps
on the strung spine
of a bruised sorrow,
one that for a long moment
we both share.

Woman and Cello

Skirt hiked up
legs ungracefully spread
inviting. 
Between those limbs, chords darken
where pale angels go blind.

A deep ewer of sound
pours from palpating fingers.
While her other hand
strokes the pulse of a
sonorant beast
carved from lava.

Her body croons
wrists cuffed to the music,
closed eyes
bathe naked in dark pools.

A depth climbs to a tree top
yet the music 
is still the lowest place on earth.

I am nudged into her
by the sweep of her arm,
the weeping intensity
of her shoulders.
The cantabile purse 
of her open lips.

There is no place to be
other than inside 
the voice of her cello,

skull drumming 
to a spiccato cadence,
as her bow softly taps
on the strung spine
of a bruised sorrow.

Withered Gray Thing

Going back home is a sad thing
everyone aging ungracefully 
the family dog is long dead
they saved her purple collar
the one with the tiny bell
that's still ringing in everyone's head. 

Weeds and devils claw creeping 
silently around the periphery
of a worn out property
old bitters bursting out
so easily-so violently.

It used to be refreshing to visit
now I can't wait to leave
Going back home
used to be a spray of 
minty green
now it's a withered up 
gray thing waiting for the end.

Stalemate

~~A chess match is an opaque mirror into societal clash
slippery rules and taboos playing upon a checkered past
balcony kings and queens glaring down on the lower caste.
Ramparts buttressing crooked flanks, serfs in the murky front
devouring dirt, taking the brunt of many skirmishes to come.
Senators riding sky horses, gliding so high above the fight
neighing nonsense -fanning their brand of hell fire lies.
Speedy tongued bishops blitzing on the slanted slide
in our faces, showcasing only the wrongs of our lives.

Black and white toppling ungracefully to the side.
Flimsy smiles and flint handshakes without dialogue  
another fiery stalemate on the blazing horizon~~

The Cello and the Girl

The cello is between her legs,
skirt hiked up
legs ungracefully spread.
sexually inviting.
The cello drums her 
Thrums her darkness
Into blind angels
The cellos voice is her voice
Her body sings through it
Or is the cello making love to her, 
making her body sing
into its hollow mouth?
I am mesmerized by her closed eyes
behind those eyelids the music runs naked.
The bow and her hands weave
moon drenched emotions
The bow is low
it nudges my body sideways into a place
where souls go to weep and rejoice
in the same instant;
there is no name for that place,
it is somewhere inside the cello
where her soul sings.

Unlucky Unhappy Me

Invisible predators steal my soul
taking me to a bowl of stale potato chips
dunking me down beneath the cigarette butts
That were not ever well-hidden in the bottom

Plunking me down firmly with their beady
little hands and their alien eyes.  Laughing maniacally
while I thrash around, trying to get free 
Then they grab me up having a better idea

And plunk me face down, bound but not gagged,
Which would have been invariably better,
into a smallish bowl of cold, half-eaten oatmeal.
I die ungracefully, and irritated.

Be Dazzling

~Be Dazzling~

Who wants to grow old?
Shivering alone, in the cold,
Beneath an old oak tree?
Not my bag of tea.
Refusing to age, so ungracefully,

Don shoes, gold,with straps,
A beautiful magenta dress, perhaps?
Sparkling jade necklaces that glitter.
Auburn tresses that equally shimmer.
Setting a man's soul...aquiver!

Panagiota Romios
4/5/2019

10 lines, 5 words, Rhyme Iii Contest
Sponsor: Laura Loo

Poetry Performer

You are angst poetry
          played on the strings
                     of an untuned guitar
     A smokers cough cord
            that grinds like grit in a turbine
 Clumsy fingers that slip
   ungracefully on the flimsy stretched nylon
           A coffee percolating flow
         of words I do not know
                  A language of sophisticated agony
            the core of your existence
                     is wretched from your gut
                             through the microphone
                        
when my sense are filled with the crudity of your song,
I can feel the pain, 
                           more than words, 
                 you are the poetry that you perform

Keg Gull Buoy

(my fashionably late xmas greeting
could long foster for this century 21 a meeting
of thee poetic minds pleasantry sent once
   boot not worth reap peat ting).

up in the air
mine barrel sized girth 
   sloshes with cheap beer
wishing many strangers 

   happy holidays and good cheer
making me suitable 
   as santa claus and his team of rein deer
chewing gum to avoid 

   popping in both left and right ear
yet the rickety sleigh 
   may not become air borne I fear
landing ungracefully 
   scattering presents and gear

if wooden contraption alights, 
   a horrendous crash many will hear
no doubt instigating 
   children and adults to jeer

comparing this jolly fellow to king lear
yet running for the hills 
   as this mad man gets considerably near
the madding crowd, 

   who expected a more 
   healthy saint nick to a pear
with healthy physique 
   instead of the trademark outsize rear

which cause for observers 
   to guffaw and sneer
whereby my trademark suit 
   will seemingly tear

and reveal that this clown 
   wears frilly under wear
prompting me to avoid 
   accepting this role for next year.

Find Me In the Lyrics

Shadows seeking solitude
sunlight filters fleeting dream
soft endless kisses
are more real than they seem

Awake but still in the stillness
missing moments long past
through stained glass windows
smiles seldom forever last

Dusty records skipping with 
every floor board squeak
dancing my way ever closer
nearer your soul  to peek

In bits of laughter loved
from the orchard dripped
ripe hints of heaven
I ungracefully tripped

Broken arrows slightly felt
but deflected just enough
where pain laid low
magically I remained tough

Lost and found but still around
hidden in the lyrics down low
under guise of star struck eyes
the whispers still somehow show

Dusty records skipping with 
every floor board squeak
dancing my way ever closer
nearer your soul  to peek

Falling in deep  a sweet melody
when you're ready   I'll be
awaiting upon your dance floor
for you   to fall into me

Waltzing slowly  
uninterrupted
just you
just me

In a Nutshell

A mess inside out
From head to toe
   Her boat, afloat
But refuses to go

   A dime piece if she tries
But prep, a bore 
   Hops in the car
Her purse by the door

   Cruising the highway
Radio blaring
   Singing ungracefully
People staring

   Can't paint a picture
Or tie a decent bow
   But something about literature
Gives her a glow

   She will write about the moon
And it's many craters
   From midnight till noon
A word generator

   Painting pictures with words
Building bridges with thought
   Most remain unheard
For listeners, she's sought

   It doesn't pay the mortgage
Or dress the table 
   But it gives her an edge
And she is mentally able 

   God gave her this passion
There must be reason
   So she'll use her ration
And wait for her season

Tell Me

A hazy sunshine fills the empty room 
The light creating a mixture of 
serene fog and dancing rays 
A figure forms in the haze 
floating on air 
and holding a staff with a golden head 
It waves the fog around into  
rainbow-coloured circles 
Some small, some big 
All concentric 
and encasing two shapes  
They radiate a lenitive breeze 
and the scent of roses 
I hear a slight rhythm  
emanating from its edges 
consuming all air in the room 
My lips fall dry,  
then moisten 
with a cinnamon taste 
My body quakes 
 
My teeth beat together  
ungracefully 
Stricken by terror and  
expectance at once 
I can feel the tightness around my waist 
as the two shapes embrace
as if caught in the hollow warmth
between them
Trickles of sweat 
run between my eyes
severing the rays

Bird calls ring through  
and start lining into inaudible verses 
My heart races and I start to quiver 
I’m blind, and deaf 
and covered by a warm sheath 
Tell me, my love 
Do you feel it too?

• Short Ungracefully Poems
• Famous Ungracefully Poems
• Best Ungracefully Poems
• Read Ungracefully Poems
• Long Ungracefully Poems
• Ungracefully Quotes