Wits Poems - Poems about Wits

None understood his witticism They resembled horror tales He couldn't contain criticism Fumbled with desolate details...

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When feeling really desperate almost at wits end Wait ~ for you must realize many folk are so much worse than you will ever know So positive thinking remembering folk whose life ‘tis near the end Pray to take away their pain to free their souls once more loving souls therefore to soar in deep blue skies forevermore… 1291 Brian Strand...

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Here I sit, diving into some wits, my mind over, at this time Looking for some intellect to jot down Then, I came across these words in my mind. It is with the muse, that comes to take up, With my pen to these words, I do write With the memories of my past, I can...

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cherry laurels try foolishly and fail to hold the snow falling from tall trees shorter trees succeed holding these and feel happy --- witty games of the winter 10 January 2023...

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Have confidence in mind And a strong will to achieve, Solace in God if you can find Great plans you can conceive, To injustice if you are blind Justice, you won't receive, Clear mind has no fear, Cheer will dry off tear, Dear pal, God is near, If God's name is chanted Your soul works efficiently, When boons are granted Bliss comes sufficiently, Problems are by fate invented Find...

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WOMAN'S WITS By Ronalyn M. Pupa “There is a woman in the house!” She is the man’s partner and supporter, Maintains household’s peace and order, Alone or with you, stands still in all the crises forever, She is the everybody’s MODEL. “There is a woman in the house!” She...

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I emerged from the chrysalis of childhood and adolescence birthed once again into this world a woman beaten, battered, and sore cold and confused Nothing was at all what I’d been led to believe that I’d been promised by people in the past who would say with confidence with wits like mine I’d go far Colors faded from the resplendent hues...

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My footwear in hand, Trousers folded up to fend, Dunk in tide I stand, Unsteady a bit, Sands under feet digging pits When two huge waves hit Splashing sea water, Wetting me and all my wits, Clueless I totter. ___________________________ Haiku |30.06.2021|...

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Had I known your betrayal, I would have let go, And free myself from you. Deep down, we know the wits of love, A poison made from the cups of romance. I drank too much from those used ones... I need to buy new ones to cover your spillage, A mess in pieces on the floor of my...

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Mother Goose met Dr. Zeuss They circled each other for a while Mrs. Goose lunged for his caboose He tickled her wit, then smiled...

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pulpy passion puked perforating punctured view dark dances dripped hoisted crippled hankerings sassy seals spent salient sieves etched wanky wits wept damping callous crest beauty politics belched dark diminuendo drooled nocturnal nauseated clue saucy syllables stool felon fate's fostered vying voluptuous triggers. '20:03:20:13:22 Note: Dedicated to Aristotle....

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Today you twitter, then you tweet, as though to make your lives complete, by echoing thoughts of people you admire. Anticipating that great twitter, you clutch your phones to reconsider, the text-ed words of wisdom you desire. You twitters prattle thoughts absurd, as tweeters follow in a herd, of voyeuristic bids to be of note. You tweet and twitter photographs. You L O L, the...

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I Write Wits Psalm Burning Desire... Why? To escape livingsocial, and negate mine birth figuratively, knowingly, and precariously, I nightmarishly perch teeter tottering atop - dearth of financial safety net, where profuse hemorrhaging, viz bankruptcy, ...

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All the ways you fought to earn a living The recipes you tried to earn your bread You found the world to be most unforgiving Despite the schemes you cooked up in your head Ungenerous, life took from you instead Of smiling on you in the act of giving -I’d hoped for more than this- that’s what you said Mistaking the material...

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Of tango I wrote, and how dreadfully a brief one! Terponei the queen whose loathing was as mine; Of ignorant readers who eulogize nonsensical poetry And a good-morning-life destitute of usual tranquility. “Brains at work” and “wits at war” is poetic enough; Must the Pacific parch or the scorching Sahara laugh aloof? How many conceptions ere poetic genuise is acclaimed? Good poetry...

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