Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"rhymed" poems
I don't seek your permission... To write about the what, why and how. It could be a haiku or come in the shape of a cow. I don't need your approval... When I don't sound the least bit poetic... In my mismatched metaphors or ill-rhymed acrostic. I'm not asking for your blessing... When I pen down and put up what I think... Be it in cloying cliches or in tear drenched ink. I don't crave for your understanding... When my 10 word poems weren't filtered through your poetic lens, Or if my contributions in collaborations lack in sense. I don't hope for your likes... If my content does not tickle your fancy, Or if my words just rubs you silly. I mean no disrespect... But don't be too quick to click on the 'comment' button. Private messaging has been put there for a reason. I don't mean to cramp your style... You're entitled to your own opinions of course... But if you've got nothing good to say, please save it and shove it up yours.
0
Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 10:43 AM UTC
Save It
My fingers played the piano to the beats I have never known, It rhymed in it's perfecting beauty as it echoed in our crystal halls. Yet a question harped in my mind as I touched the piano for the first time. Is it my mind that knows of the lyrics of what to become or has it always been my heart that sings of you.
0
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 4:10 AM UTC
Piano
My Frankenstein monster erects in the dense night a soliloquies of remedies traced on pasted wall paper It bids faster as the kites fly high above the Himalayan feeding respect to the sun to radiate its vector rays It whispers of this world a spice of colours and patterns a windy dainty silky road wrapped with satanic ribbons As the masses gather on the poles to dance the mayday festival the pagan gods shake the monster their gold merry as the cloud chills The bonfire embers and trembles the palates vanish in the ashy wind the crowds grow in bonded unity the monster smiles in rhymed terms
0
Jul 12, 2016
Jul 12, 2016 at 5:47 PM UTC
The Beltane Seducing My Frankenstein Monster
(Warning: This poem has been de-activated on another site. You must be 18 yrs. old to read this; although we were only 15 then) Way back then, When we were Post-pubescent Boys, We sat in a circle, Not a **** ring, And rhymed our things Like this: You make my **** rock;       You make my thing sing;       You make my **** stink;       You make my log throb;         You make my stick thick;       You make my chub rub; You make my ******* long;   You make my stump jump;   You make my pole roll;         You make my wiener leaner; You make my bone moan;     You make my man stand;       You make my limp primp;     You make my rod applaud; You make my spear smear;     You make my peter sweeter;   You make my one eye cry. And all in unison: You make my hard on. We'd continue with our lines, Til the case was as empty As our rhymes. Them there days of simple joys, Post pubescent Boys with  toys.
0
Jan 5, 2015
Jan 5, 2015 at 11:04 AM UTC
Boys With Toys
Now, I'm here to tell a story Bout some lessons learned shawty I got me a tough crew, know what um sayin We played da diss game, slaydum Not one a da crew, brought da game shame First, I dubbed myself Kang I'm good, true! But didn't mean a thang Then coughed ma gural Sumpim She got da club thumpin Put her own style in da game, bra We still thuggin? Na! She first coughed a little gural princess Kicked in the castle, copped the Queen's dress Took the crown, made her own success Her rhymes get the heart pumpim Much respect to me gural Somthin Next, little siss picked up the mike Jumped on the tandem, started peddlin the bike Shawty's rhymes hit dem in da face She rhymed like a **** dresses in satin an lace Mad props out  to my siss, Madison grace I was alone,  like a stand  a timber **** Forest on fire with Diein Ember Laid down rhymes so tight He'd have my back in any fight I gotta thank ma boyyy Gangstan whichu was a flippin joy Otta nowhere swaggs a tru Gansta chick Bustin rhymes en droppin dimes like she was Slick Rick Wedyan be da real trick! Thanks gural slick Finally, swooped the dark Raven Rollin on 22's gatz a blazzin Loyall to da shawtys Flyin like a bomber on sorties Droppin posers to der knees Makin succaass  beg, brotha please To all ya all I got ta tell ya Would I do it again, hell ya Um movin on to a new gig Pull off my crown, plop on a wig To ya readers out dare got some advice Giv it a spit, it's Gangsta's Paradise!!!
0
Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 10:44 PM UTC
Gangsta Poet III Thank You
Your eyes burned and danced between First blue then green, then blue The driftwood fires, beachfront pyres, Your essence clashing too. Cracking, burning, twisting with The knowledge close at hand The truth within the salted seas That lap and brush the sand. I had placed you there and you Like sun-bleached ocean wood Went willing trapped up in my grip Although you understood... The mark those waters left upon Your brittle, scorched treebones Your twisted fingers skyward With your back against the stone. And somehow I, though conflicted, danced Around you both between Consuming and devouring Both fallow earth and sea.
0
May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 3:07 PM UTC
The Driftwood, Fire, and Sea (rhymed version)
The most rhymed word In the poetry world is Me. That reveals volumes about Us.
0
Dec 20, 2018
Dec 20, 2018 at 7:51 AM UTC
Me
Well I guess I knew it all along You were singing to another's song There was no harmony to our verse So bad it couldn't be any worse The words just never rhymed Our life steps were out of time And the way you always spared The commitment was never there Well like a bird without a nest A rainbow without the rain I see it all so clearly now I see it through the pain All the secrets you withheld All those pretty little lies Every question never answered Another piece of me would die Like a lake without it's water A glacier without it's ice You'd go dancing around the corner To see who you could entice So like a heart without it's lover A sky without the blue I'll guess I'll be moving on Trying to forget about you So like a bird without a nest A rainbow without the rain I'll be moving on I think it's for the best
0
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 9:13 PM UTC
A Bird Without A Nest
Alligator! Alligator! Alligator! Alligator! Bite me whole and take me to space. Staple my **** and spaz my face, Plaice defrosting in the refrigerator. These things all seem to come together, Throw them far apart will be for the better. I hate this ******* verse, ‘cos it all rhymed from Alligator!
0
Mar 19, 2010
Mar 19, 2010 at 3:57 PM UTC
A Refrigerator and a stapler and an Alligator
i know we're already through, but my heart is still blue. i know we've had enough, but darling, i am not that tough. it's been a long time since our hearts still rhymed and everything's over now but in my life ㅡthere's still no rainbow. i am still deeply into you, and i am still smitten with what you do. you're still the one who gives me chills, to you i am still  head over heels. you're still the one my heart yearns, & moving on is something i never learned. you are still my reason for everything, even if for you i am already nothing.
0
Jul 14, 2018
Jul 14, 2018 at 12:05 PM UTC
smitten with you.
My version of a poem Starts with a verb Or some word that is utterly absurd Some rhymed lines Interesting adverbs and adjectives Thoughts and feelings on every line My feelings don't rhyme Why should every single line? In mine Every line a different season Different feelings will show Sometimes they stay Other times they pack up and go I never know So I jot them down as they flow
0
Jun 22, 2011
Jun 22, 2011 at 2:15 PM UTC
POETRY BY ME
It rhymed, it seemed sensible Although maybe reprehensible Because it didn’t quite make sense, Questions with no answers Intensifying with the questioning But never mentioning any answers Just mysteries but no attempts To justify What was being said, The page being fed with more words read felt and heard before But never quite sure what it was trying to say It carried on anyway, It rhymed because it seemed sensible But it was questionable whether it Had any meaning, A room with no floor but walls and a ceiling What? Are you sure you’re not looking at it Upside down? Surely it’s more appealing The other way round, Less falling into nothingness The ceiling as a floor would be best Or spinning really fast so you can’t quite fall Because it catches you, Hopefully no nails from pictures In the walls Because it scratches you Spinning round In a room With no windows watching you. Butterscotch table for two… What? It doesn’t make sense, But for recompense it rhymes I said that already I know But I need certain lines In there because, Well… You know why. Ladders wrapping like snakes around the branches of Trees That could be climbed unappeased Were it not for nonsense The cycle repeating over time Not pleasing but feasible reasoning untangible But more manageable Like conditioned hair More easy to bare The sense that the Dense trees of time As they climb entangled with ladders like snakes Or vines in their hair Mangled They don’t make much sense They just rhyme. That’s just life. And that’s fine. What?
0
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 9:03 AM UTC
It Doesn't Make Sense, It Just Rhymes
It rhymed, it seemed sensible Although maybe reprehensible Because it didn’t quite make sense, Questions with no answers Intensifying with the questioning But never mentioning any answers Just mysteries but no attempts To justify What was being said, The page being fed with more words read felt and heard before But never quite sure what it was trying to say It carried on anyway, It rhymed because it seemed sensible But it was questionable whether it Had any meaning, A room with no floor but walls and a ceiling What? Are you sure you’re not looking at it Upside down? Surely it’s more appealing The other way round, Less falling into nothingness The ceiling as a floor would be best Or spinning really fast so you can’t quite fall Because it catches you, Hopefully no nails from pictures In the walls Because it scratches you Spinning round In a room With no windows watching you. Butterscotch table for two… What? It doesn’t make sense, But for recompense it rhymes I said that already I know But I need certain lines In there because, Well… You know why. Ladders wrapping like snakes around the branches of Trees That could be climbed unappeased Were it not for nonsense The cycle repeating over time Not pleasing but feasible reasoning untangible But more manageable Like conditioned hair More easy to bare The sense that the Dense trees of time As they climb entangled with ladders like snakes Or vines in their hair Mangled They don’t make much sense They just rhyme. That’s just life. And that’s fine. What?
Continue reading...
63
We drink to make each other more tolerable. Whiskey washes over the painful memories of broken trust and promises. I don’t remember the last time we didn’t fight. It’s like I love you too much to care anymore. I’d give you the world if I could, but that’s easier said than done. You don’t want me to be so kind to you; and that’s something I’ll never understand. Don’t forget who I was before you tore me apart. I was a pieced together puzzle; until deconstruction became your hobby. You became my demise. Tears trickled down my wrinkled shirt the day you left. In our life wine rhymed with love and water tasted like sacrifice. There are only so many wounds liquor can heal. New stains painted my shirts, not tears or wine. Red cuffs covered up memories of you. Blood washed down the drain just before you came back. Now it’s too late to save us. Maybe we were doomed from the start. But I’ll refuse to believe we weren’t perfect for each other. Not until God tells me otherwise. I suppose I’ll see him soon and ask for His opinion. Your embrace has never felt more soothing as my vision blurs to black. You whisper sweet thoughts you should’ve said before. We drank to make each other more tolerable. I couldn’t think of someone I’d rather tolerate. When I embark from dark to light I’ll remember you. I love you too much to care anymore.
0
Dec 11, 2013
Dec 11, 2013 at 10:41 PM UTC
Alcoholics In Love
This is not an accident. I used to call him a lazy criminal. Scooping hearts and spilling blood, leaving footprints, fingerprints. Stains. Eyes folding over -- the blindman or the beggar? Lips that blossomed into blueprints. Hands that rhymed with dreams, instead. The weeknights, dark and warm in a season of curled paper. No speaking -- guilt only follows past the second trip through the door. And then the mornings. More sun in him than the greenhouse where we watched dragonfly wings. A pattern about him like dragonfly wings. In those days we knew what it meant to point without wounding. We knew how to need someone without wanting, without loving.
0
Jan 11, 2013
Jan 11, 2013 at 9:57 PM UTC
lentement, doucement, discrètement
I'm trading sticks of cigarette for a poem Bottles of beer for a few more Whiskeys make me forlorn Why not a few more poems So I scribble and scribble some more I'm trading my loneliness for lines Rhymed or rhymeless, why should I mind When the please the eyes and tickles the mind I sure will memorize and mimic them like a mime So I'm still scribbling on this torn paper of mine I'm trading my hearts pain Trading it for a paper and a pen Like a painter ready to paint I deep my petite paint brush in a bowl of paint Dap dap, little dots, strokes and dashes as I dare to paint Little by little the whole picture is becoming plain I'm trading all love's tears Tears shade in secrecy for a poem shared publicly Though seemingly absurd but poems brings this inconceivable peace. So I'm scribbling and scribbling my way to serenity. I trade it all for a piece of poem I may not have made the point But I've washed clean my plough And starring at this beautiful not-so-beautiful poem I have read and reread it that it is starting to sound like a song. Reading one last time, "my best trade ever".
0
Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 7:16 PM UTC
My Best Trade
Sweet and supple golden nectar Caress my lips, gentle as a kiss. There is no step that I would not venture; Nor no succulent sip that I would miss. A touch of lips In a state of bliss, Unable to resist. Closely rhymed with a kiss; and the tongue in between makes a hiss. The world around is set ablaze Stuck together in this sweltering maze. To wish upon the stars to stay a little longer And hope for the moon to hold in a little more fonder. ~RitzWrites 🍁
0
Oct 31, 2023
Oct 31, 2023 at 10:23 AM UTC
Beso
He taught them well ~for all the teachers here~ He cared enough, So much so,   Reasoned with them. Never diminishing their simplest prose, Even if it rhymed with rose.... He loved them in his way, Once his student, This year, then forever. Their woes he read, In every submission, No threat treated idly, He knew but one grade, Caring. One rule strictly observed, No touching, In this sad age, a crime without Any absolution. Then came a day. School arrived, pre-bell by ten minuets, His customary arrival time. This day different. The long corridor to the classroom entree, Lined like Noah's ark, two by two, On each side, His students past and present aligned, They would not let him pass, Till he hugged each and everyone. Thus, they taught him well the meaning of Just rewards For they were his, Yes, they were his, Not for the taking, But for the giving. His subject, Creative writing, of course!
0
Sep 28, 2013
Sep 28, 2013 at 5:17 AM UTC
He taught them well (Sept 2013)
Bald heads, forgetful of their sins, Old, learned, respectable bald heads Edit and annotate the lines That young men, tossing on their beds, Rhymed out in love's despair To flatter beauty's ignorant ear. All shuffle there, all cough in ink; All wear the carpet with their shoes; All think what other people think; All know the man their neighbour knows. Lord, what would they say Did their Catullus walk their way?
0
2.5k
The Scholars
A line A stitch In time Seams To tend To mend This mind Of mine Scars Each line Rewind To remind You'll know When I sent it That I meant it If it rhymed A line A stitch In time Seams To tend To mend This pathetically poetic mind Of mine
0
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 6:16 PM UTC
StitcHes
you might have thought there was no wordthat would've rhymed with orangebut there's a mountain where i livecalled the mighty blorenge half a ***** of a cleavageblaenavon nestles deepa baize of fern and heatherwhere we go ******** sheep
0
Feb 27, 2010
Feb 27, 2010 at 12:23 PM UTC
orange
You forgotten color you no real word rhymes with you so you’re only rhymed with slang sign of autumn complexion of jack o lanterns patterned with black you are the color scheme of a holi- well horror day you are the color of the sky when moon relieves sun you look good with stone washed blue jeans sun dresses of your hue please the eye elmer’s glue nozzle tip you are the good OJ no gloves or lame *** raps most important you are my mother’s favorite color for her to love such a weird tint just marks the seed of a weirdness that I now embrace orange
0
Sep 20, 2012
Sep 20, 2012 at 6:31 PM UTC
Orange (Based on a Prompt)
The ten count is over He's down for the count The Greatest is gone from this world But, we will remember He will stay here forever As we think of the quips that he hurled As fast as his fists flew His lip was much faster He rhymed with the greatest of ease Parkinson's slowed him But, we will remember The Greatest of All...ALI Known by the masses After his time in the ring He was an angel sent to this earth He had his convictions Became a man of the people He showed what a real life was worth A true gentle giant With the speed of a mongoose The Louisville Lip...that was he We all know his trademark How he floated and stung The Greatest...Muhammad Ali
0
Jun 4, 2016
Jun 4, 2016 at 7:15 PM UTC
The Greatest
today is the first I’ll start from here here, where nothing appears yesterday was the third when obligation crashed and disposition screamed tomorrow will be the second if inhibitions boom and expectations rise —————————————- today I wasted a day I drank and thought kissed and fought slept a lot the sun was wrought the color of grey yesterday was when I died my contention deserved glee sadly, mistakes flourish in vanity what did come, rhymed with misery a folded smile you’d never see preposterously snide tomorrow I’ll live to once again fill what failed and might still shatter and spill ******* obstinate will with nothing more to give —————————————- that’s why we recycle minutes for days seconds for hours sorrows for life
0
May 9, 2013
May 9, 2013 at 3:57 AM UTC
Recycle
Tiger land we got the virus You thought animals couldn’t get it But a tiger got it and He was from the Bronx zoo in New York He got it from a zookeeper Really that it is bad That this tiger got the virus We should watch out for his class That this tiger could do more than Bite if you annoy To every girl and boy He could give the virus to everybody around And the tiger doesn’t have the knowledge to wash his hands Like the humans do But this tiger can spread the virus To everybody here If they touch body, nose and ear Tigers can spread this virus So how are we going to Keep this tiger in isolation He won’t perform on social media Cause he is a cute tiger And god knows if a tiger could get it He could escape and do more than Bite our *** to death He could spread the virus for our deaths I rhymed death with deaths Who cares because a tiger has the virus And hopefully they can keep this tiger Safe and in quarantined forever and ever Orange and black Keep this tiger safe Oh yeah
0
Apr 5, 2020
Apr 5, 2020 at 9:43 PM UTC
a tiger got the coronavirus in the bronx
It's funny how we met right after my heart shattered  It's like you knew me all along And now you're here to save me But I kept pushing you out But why do you still keep coming back? *See, they say shattered mirrors yell out "bad omen!" And I had stared till I no longer recognise my reflection But you reminded me of sleepless nights and how the crows never called a name Your heart does not sound like a broken glass to me* It rhymed with my beating heart Though broken, it's still pumping Notions of stigma streaming in that fervent river vein The truth hits me when I stared long enough I can never give what you've given me But why do you keep coming back? *Your veins were rivers that would take us away As these paper boats fall apart I still see parts of myself in shards of you We could share the same breath underwater* So please, let me fix you.
0
Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 11:29 PM UTC
River Vein (Collaboration With Iridescent)