Best Vocab Poems


Premium Member Getting Old Is Getting Old

I've grown a bit slower, I've grown a bit fatter,
  my mission each hour: relieving my bladder.
When I was a youngster, I had no idea
  old coots who eat fruits will just get diarrhea.

My eyesight is going - my glasses need glasses,
  and don't get me started on myriad gases:
that flatus I thought should have stayed deep inside
  escaped from its chamber, despite how I tried.

My hearing was great once, now I spend big money
  on aids, just to know why those jokes are so funny.
I never had allergies back in the day -
  I sneeze now from looking at pictures of hay.

My barber once covered his floor with brown hair -
  that floor now looks gray (and there's not a lot there).
I thought in retirement I'd be a blob -
  I'm busier now than when I had a job:

My schedule with doctor's appointments I fill,
  the outcome of each is, "here, take this new pill".
Perhaps I once asked what that pain in my joint meant,
  so now my skin's greasy from medical ointment.

Once, fully formed sentences from me were heard,
 I pause quite a bit now to find the right........ word.
Back then, my vocab was a source of great pride,
 now new words or phrases I just cast aside.

I need a warm blanket, my toes all feel frosted,
  but walking to get one just leaves me exhausted.
Some good comes from fires becoming an ember -
  I'd say it here (if I could only remember…)
© John Watt  Create an image from this poem.

Lazy Teacher

Kids flick paper airplanes
And goof around in class
But what can you expect?
The teacher won't get off her ass.

Such lovely etiquette
Our tax dollars at work
So please don't strain yourself
You inconsiderate jerk.

I speak as a student of this class
This very poem my example
And as you can clearly see
My free time is quite ample.

Instead of learning vocab
I'll write some pretty words
While I should be learning other things
Such as nouns, adjectives, and verbs.

But I've far excelled this
It's a waste of my time
I already find this form basic
Why am I still learning rhyme?

Because I am subject to my lazy teacher
Who fritters her time away
As one so elequently put it
"This class is so gay."

Premium Member Only the Lonely, Butt Head

It has become painfully obvious that the only way to be heard
is to pay through the nose to be a lifetime nerd,
the way to be read in on this sight 
is to pay through the nose with disdain-unslight 
the drivel/dribble practicum that is profound in it's reading
is a joke, sickening jest this side of profane with often open ended
vocab blur bleeding from a finger up my butt countenance, hey I can be a pooret
yet as in all ways money that talks/squalks/walk the bills
up/on cuming and its resolute intercourse interims the slash good words for the  sentient freefall to the ills of my **** really mean/matters/ ratiorationale reticient/demeanor/demonstrative/destructive co cliff effervicient
sentient fecal savored poetic prickprofundity perversing on pisspoor gobetweens 
prepostured with sitesucking positiveprevelance performance preludes of lifetime member promises. GoThe usual suspects figure.
As GMarx once reveled in his Libra coutenance, "I would not want to belong to a any club that would have me as a member"! So be it as u quali/quasi/qualify your 
intermiserable inputs from lowly wantobe"poets"? Really, where do you get this chum encrusted fecal crap?? Love, beholding, misery, misertudes of life and sequesters of social misfitted miserdoms as to your innane, irrelevant, idiotic, interpretation of the serial social merits of human america and its poetic sense, and the globe as it is. I haplessly hope that in the humo state of written wrongs that u hate my stuff sur-plenty of desolution row and the good of for what it's worth in my non sequential birthday of sixty something nothings per social senses.
my money nevertalks, even on this lice level. D--aaamn. 
Never let it me be told that for me 
to be hold in an equal fake frequence with all of the hard-on Dr. Filth viagra statue status that I can speak from my borrowed loaned loins and be heard to a pro poem status dollar of signoff significance. 
I know I am being obtuse and indifferent as I don't want to play the $$$ poe whore game that would catapult me to the upper stratosphere of a poetic Zeus, Oden and the like in your eyes, as talent not matters. WTFE. But alas 
keep me in your prostratic/pussitic poetic poison prism, Dave. "I have always depended on the kindness of strangers". Otherwise,      FU. Keep the faith.


My World

Black, Latino, and Anglo Saxon
Together as one, my paradise
No animosity, just relaxin’
Free at last, No! Free from the beginning
Words never spoke that’s not our way of living
Sunshine’s and a cool breeze 
Respect and a helping hand to the elderly
Thank you’s and yes please
The language of the kiddies
Families in tact, no upper
Lower or middle class
War????
Not in the vocab
Science for advancement 
Not the foundation for a meth lab
Smiles not frowns
Giggles 
Innocence
God speaks 
Natures sounds.
No tension 
No disease
No fee to live 
In our world of ease
Come sit with me Carol 
In the sunshine and the cool breeze

The Amicable Divorce

Look, I found a new book to read,
This is a book of nonsense, indeed,
Titled, "The Amicable Divorce,"
I did snicker and chortle, of course,
Who wrote this? Some toff,
I sit and read and scoff,
I wrote companion lit.,
Equally full of blip,
"Improve your kid's English," 
Real vivid vocab, that's the way,
What this witch wants to  do to them,
Only one way to handle abusive men,
"Uppity, uppity, shove broomstick uppity,"
'The Amicable Divorce'? Heavy, heavy,
Look, a brand new book to read,
"The Amicable Divorce", nonsense indeed.......

Premium Member Exercise of the Mind

HAIKU #12,049-12,052


When I write haiku
My mind in spa called Iris
And I am in charge

My body seem poised
Like personal trainer firm
As muscles of mine

Reward is in thoughts
I'll own like a work of art
Bidding me to bid

I want to be toned
By fresh colorful visions
With vocab of worth.

*


The Rhyme Advancer With the Answers

Poetry Soup, The foundation where I’m planting my roots, 
Lassoed by a rope that’s never loose,
Always bringing me back,
I’m here, ready with no fear, high jacking minds causing post traumatic panic attacks,
Ya no match for Quincy Mac! Always attacking while on track, 
Was once a street rat, intellectually faster and now your poetic master!
The Rhyme Advancer with the answers, 
With deadly sexy stances of grammar,
Aggressive techniques you don’t seek, seen as dangerous, so you lag and stagger,
Dancing with words bringing this banger, 
Too advanced, for the ignorant class, who lack comprehensive swagger,
Picking up my spanners, I assemble transcendental concepts making you tremble,
Majority blessed by their synthetic environment, so minds are simple, worthless like a pimple,
Needing popped, shocked into trauma, so you wake to the storm of the west, 
Always assuming ignorance is an asset, 
A threat to ya well-being, intelligence tells us we should want to know about everything, 
So learn to THINK, in sync with observations that interlink with the missing link,
Quick, question your sick social rank, thoughts go blank? No one to thank for wise principals,
I perceive myself as a human individual, home is earth, but cursed with feeble people influenced by evil,
Been told I’m on a different level, NO! Believing this will take hold of my ego,
Instead I write with flow and send out these writings to your brains radio, So turn it up!
Yesterday, today, and tomorrow I pickup bombs of ammo,
As I undergo experiences growing my vocab to blow minds,
The Knowledge Mastermind, of good and the upheaval of fallen thoughts of evils, 
Painting life right now, in this domain claiming a divine easel, that equals more than worldly rules,
Prepare ya tools, Reassemble your sanity from all the insanity and ball,
**** in the air, frequencies of fecal matter disrupting what you think, to you its nonexistent and nothing,
Writings encoded deeply, not for the sleepy, hard to put together like a double sided puzzle,
All or nothing, no trouble, with balance keeping an eye on my surroundings, while under my angels wings.

Quincy Mac
Date written: 11.6.2016
© Quincy Mac  Create an image from this poem.

Things I Don'T Understand

THINGS  I  DON’T   UNDERSTAND *  


First the facetious stuff then the seriously bad * 
Moralizing  punch  line which I usually do add.
Don’t understand  difference between horse and pony.
Don’t understand languages like Gaelic or Shoshone,  
All sound and look pretty much the  same. 
Why do some folks get excited about football game
And other folks get wild about fashion clothing
While I regard both with loathing?
Don’t get it when a rich guy walks past  a poor
And doesn’t  even notice him standing in the door.
Or when evening  news shows unwanted puppy rescued
While millions are lonely, homeless, dole-queued.
Must be my lack of proper education and sensibilities
But when I meet  old ladies living under shopping trolleys 
My instinct is to equalize the difference ‘tween us
Sell my limousine and chauffeur  and take a bus.
I reckon  that  my  ignorance and ill-education’s
Why I never learned to  behave properly in such situations.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . .. . .. . . . . . . . .. . 

*  Title was given to me by Nancy Jones ( Nancy with the laughing eyes)

*  “Bad” means “good”   in Mohammed Ali’s  vocab,   so that’s good enough for me. 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Premium Member Time Trials and This Site of Poetic Soup Dimentiaaaaa

I try and publish and a poem in souptime and "the soupstraints to the confines existant 
excell to a minimal maxitude of differentila indifferencode interossities.
Since i am not sosoup fast with my train of soupthought I guess i will never be Souplasttic.
I write, write and recounter in a past present future souppremise. 
Its obvious yr souprnet leaves me soup blime,in my, ever soupsightless sinful silly soupless sandwhich sanctuary to quick/quack a witless word 
confirm ever frontal feverent folotoid fragment factoid frililous fever of
stilted  thinkthank terd thoughts on a for sale/site/sound garage site
basis of I hold enlightness. BTW WTF,  is wrong with yr empty vocab
vclock villanous counmenance clear as I try and postrepost my brief belief brainules 
on yr ever elusive everpresent invo invisible interprogrammishness invoiced? 
Get it right on target, interiget. Damn this is yr forte reality reformation regress ritual???????????? I am a hack hazard human and I see u derelict dick people online.
Stupid is as stupid does dodo duck ***** damn dill deamnor donked drowned dead and 
god gone grateful for the none guy, leave'em alone TV please!! 
Star bright Star light, give me a star and I'll be alright uptight out of sight.
........... Realllllly equal  WTF mindless minionTime is of the off/on utmost season,
 given in pride to all thought and in emotional co countenance essence. Really, u must
be joking,  Really???????????????????????????????????Unbelieveable.
I know, I know what yr thinking. Dah! Dah Dah Dah ty Da ta Da ti Da. WTF ever. Get a F--------------------------------ing poetic life JC.

Premium Member I Am Feeling You

I Am Feeling You
January 5, 2014 at 3:17pm
Sometimes I run out of words
in which to respond
to my amazing poets
from around the world.
"Like" buttons are deficient,
I open my "dialog bag"
and scatter bountiful
yet limited vocab throughout
my mind.Only to find;
That there are no words,
in which to reply.
I respond with a smile and a sigh.
All I can do is Identify,
be enlightened or feel.
You cannot see my reaction
or know my satisfaction,
when my words are not sufficient
my silence is efficient.
Speechless tho I am rendered -
Your words are speaking loudly
to my kindred spirit.
Again, when I have
no words, in which to reply.
I respond with a smile and a sigh.
and I am feeling you!

Words Gone Rag a Satire

Words Gone Rag

what a pity
how absurd
college grads have lost their words
latent grammar
dead vocab
grab at every
prep they have

don't know what the trouble is...
at computers they can whiz

don't know what will happen next----
whatever it is
will be found
in text

I Am Single

Hello I am Single
So my introduction will only take a minute
Well lets open some champagne while we are at it
Feel free to smile I am Single.

I am one with myself
I am opening all shelves
All protecting shells have been broken
No harsh word hasn't been spoken.

Like birds during summer feel free
Commitment is out of my vocab
I won't charge you I"m free
While you at it... here is a herb.

I am Single
I am one with myself
Oh and my herb.
Oh no! I need help.

Carmena the American, Part I

Carmena was born in Bolivia
but left that place at seventeen,
after three years of waiting for the chance
to live out an American dream.

When her folks finally got their green cards
they moved up into old Santa Fe,
Carmena finished out her high school years
picking up on all American ways.

She’d known some English before she had come,
but her vocab expanded real quick,
immersed in the tongue every day
her accent softened and became less thick.

This helped a lot in her father’s new shop,
he bought a gas station in a franchise,
Carmena waited on all walks of life,
and the experience opened her eyes.

She’d chat with truckers and travelers
from all over the fifty great states,
lefty Californians, southern good-ol’ boys,
northern Yankees and Texans hauling steaks.

Mid-westerners who were so crazy nice,
New Yorkers who always sounded pissed off,
good-natured rednecks looking for more beer,
even some Yoopers with their funny talk.

Learned more of her new home on that roadside
then she did in any public school,
what would divide and what would unite,
but the one thing that really stuck her as cool

was that Americans, the better ones,
made everything subservient to choice.
Culture and skin, ethnicity and faith,
you had the freedom to ignore and avoid.

These facts struck her as how things should be,
had not every person a claim to these rights?
Here force of law was meant to make free
people to be the driving force in their lives.

And best of all, she heard all sides of things,
good for thought, both the grease and gourmet,
when seven years passed, and she took that oath,
she became American in so many ways.

But then something happened she didn’t expect,
it came about in an election year,
talking with her friend Sue about the vote
she was greeted with anger and fear.

Carmena was confused,"Why the harsh look?
I was just sharing the thoughts on my mind.
I believe in gun rights, and low taxes,
My father’s shop has been having a time—”

Sue interrupted,”Do you hate yourself?!
Don’t you know that you’re a Hispanic?
You’re betraying your own kind, voting this way,
colored people should vote Democratic!”

Carmena was stunned, struggled to reply,
“But I see nothing good in their beliefs.”
Sue just fumed,”You’re a damn race-traitor,
or brain-washed by fascist enemies!”

CONCLUDES IN PART II

Bourbon Talking

I listened to promises from a drunk,
"Bourbon talking," I should have thunk,
The day passed, the weeks concluded,
I tried to work out who was deluded,
Waiting for red herrings,
The months and years were ending,
Decades rolled by, one day,
I realised he should be at AA,
Not so comical, 
The vocab. was lyrical,
Centuries passed, millennia concluded, 
World exploded, Universe imploded, 
Worked out who was deluded, 
Now, for tradies, through phone books I go walking...
So, girls, never listen when it's "bourbon talking!!"

The Parrot Who Never Quiets

Gandalf, my parrot
   Your babble is ludicrous 
      Please SHUT THE HELL UP!


* Written for my beloved African grey parrot, Gandalf.
Has an incredibly huge vocab- but will never stay quiet!

A. Green
© Amy Green  Create an image from this poem.

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