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Best Poems Written by Ken Wallace

Below are the all-time best Ken Wallace poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Ken Wallace Poem

Really Catchy Title

Readers acknowledge first lines as vital
Nothing grabs attention like a snappy title
People dislike poems that do not rhyme
Criticizing writers for committing a “crime”
How I hate being hated for being me
Now I see, for I, is Kenneth to be
If I choose to inscribe in a passive voice
Then do I will, for it’s my choice
If I want to use a vulgar expression
I’d choose ass, to keep writing a profession
I may write in lines that are far stretched across the page, and stick out like a sore thumb
Or use terrible clichés because my filter is numb
I shall proofread if a feel and submit without
Errorz apparent, I’d never doubt
I’ll end abruptly if that’s what I like 
And you my friend can take a hike

Details | Ken Wallace Poem

The Last Supper

Faded tempera
Leonardo da Vinci
Jesus was betrayed

Details | Ken Wallace Poem

The Ringleader

Ladies and gentleman
Come in come all, take a seat
Relax take a load off 
And enjoy the show
Be happy, be merry for you all are
The guests, my guests
The audience to the greatest show on earth
We have a mystical show for you all tonight
Dazzling lights will send your mind in a scurry for reality
Freaks that will frighten your soul, but I dare you to look away
Exotic animals that are bred to entertain even the closest of minded
Why am I wearing this mask? You might be asking yourself
Are you feeling a little dizzy? Are your eyes a little watery?
It’s called mustard gas, used in World War 1
And you all are breathing it in, oh this truly is the greatest of all shows
Go ahead and run, you have no place to go. 
And for your final performance, I will rise to the rafters 
And watch you all die
I am your ringleader, goodnight!

Details | Ken Wallace Poem

Uneasy Ending

So I know the understanding of my mind
Mad, twisted, and fogged with clutter
Tall sequoia trees, stacked tops in a forest 
To all I seem normal, as a regular “guy” pores through mines
Deep within my skin however lies abnormality
From A’s ends to Z’s, but in between are scattered letters
Like Scrabble letters shaken about within the box
Dark I am not, bright not so either
A dimly lit dusty desk at dusk, I am
A mental tongue twister like the previous line, always
Da Vinci-esc I am, an abundance of unfinished dreams
Starting is virtuoso, finishing is inept

Details | Ken Wallace Poem

Superstitions For the Feeble-Minded

Don’t say that, you better knock on wood
It’s bad to spread misfortune aloud, in front of others
Don’t you know any better? Karma and jinxing are real
Hey! And get off that crack, you’ll break your mama’s back

It’s not so bad to spread misfortune aloud, in front of others
For those who did wrong doing to me and my loved ones
Hey! I’m glad to see you’re standing on that crack.
By the way send your dear mother my sincerest regards

And for those who did wrong doing to me and my loved ones
You should lasso the words escaping your mouth
Send your dear mother my sincerest regards
Just tell her I said it must blow having a child like you

You should hog tie those words before they escape your mouth
Sticks and stones could break bones, words, well they just sting
It must blow for your mom having such a shitty child, sting!
Sorry for the news flash but nobody likes you

Sticks and stones will break your bones, words just tingle
Oh you didn’t know any better?  Karma and Jinxing are real
News flash! The world is better off without the likes of you
That’s why you shouldn’t say that, did you knock on wood yet?

Details | Ken Wallace Poem

We All Scream For Ice Cream

Icy, chilled on the ivory
melting in the harbor
from the tongues warmth
but forces cranial hypothermia
thoughts frozen solid, pain
escapes through cartilage
frozen treats adored but
dreaded from it entering
the gates but as it does 
residents scream for ice cream

Details | Ken Wallace Poem

A Thin Line

Ghouls and goblins, ghosts and Ghidora—the three headed monster
Dracula and demons, dragons and dementia—insanity 
The Ripper and Reaper, Rosemary and Risiki—inside the dark forests 
Spike and Samara, Sasquatch and Sabrina – the teenage witch
Jason and Michael, Freddy and Chucky – Child’s Play
They shall frighten you, they shall humor you
They live in your head, in your mind
in your thoughts and in your dreams.
Flooding the light with darkness or
Evasion of darkness, therefore being unafraid
Horror – shuddering fear, frightfully shocking.
Serenity – being serene, feeling calm, 
and the line between the two, being one with no life. 
Lifeless.

Details | Ken Wallace Poem

Six Feet Under

A sweet pine tree scent grips the swift air
As the wind blows through my untrimmed hair
Tree’s leaves spring off limbs like suicide attempts
Never to hit the ground below, life held in contempt
Clouds scurry through the sky in search of its end
Birds, airplanes, and mountains its must fend
As I wait for a cold sack of emptiness to drop
And lie forever bored as it rots 
As its lowered on a prop
I see its top
I say stop!
Ok go.

Details | Ken Wallace Poem

I, the Blade Bearing Lunatic

My delightful darling, my senses magnified with your spirit nearby
And I feel your misty entrails and silky casing chilling my pours entirely shut
Your presence surrounds me much like the heavy air I breathe 
Your anger and confusion I share and my delusion is apparent 
I clinch my fist together tightly and strike the hardwood floor below
I scream your name for the blood you spilt, not by yourself 
But by a man, a madman, insane, a blood thirsty animal
A psycho lope across an easy path to his dwelling of sickness
There are no factions of justice, no suspicions, not yet
For how long, I ask? Until the sickness is far too visible to flout
Pain will resurface through the eyes of the blade bearer
I pummel the oak yet again as my heart absorbs the agony
Self-inflicted though, I am the blade bearing lunatic who slayed my queen
My love, I beg of you to haunt me past consciousness so I may die
An agonizing death that I need to cure me from insanity
You watch me and I feel your eyes like stones striking my cold torso
The torture I deserve isn’t sturdy on the mind of me, a lunatic,
The blade bearing lunatic who slayed his one and only love.

Details | Ken Wallace Poem

Americas Villain

Low flying plane
Cloudless sky, bright blue
Steel clashing, burning orange
Cloudless no more, smoke fills the sky
Thick, gray, rolls through the city
Much more than a tragedy
3,000 deaths
Millions affected
Billions left with a dark memory seared in their minds
By the hands of one, and
A search begins
War, oil, money
What are we really fighting for?
A man, a coward, a villain 
A decade of suffering mentally, 
The pain lies in the gaping hole of our hearts 
And is filled, with the demise of
America’s villain