"tutored" poems
From the outside he is unfinished and grotesque
A figure conjured up by a devilish intelligence
Out to shock the world with his ghoulish antics
For who could find such glee in such contortion
But as always poor **** sapiens is off the mark
For inside this morbid cask of human digression
Lies a trove of bountiful beauty in aesthetic abandon
The beauty inside the man is the work of a maetsro
Poetry that seizes the imagination is his speciality
And music that arrests even the gods is his forte
So be not hasty to judge what you see before you
Let the scales that blind your inner vision drop off
And there before your newly-tutored eyes
Will lie an essence of such beauty as you can never imagine
Loudly proclaiming the worth of the person inside the shell
And how disability is only a layer that when peeled off
Unveils the inimitable jewel inside in its range and depth
Oct 23, 2015
Oct 23, 2015 at 3:24 AM UTC
I met you over Facebook...
You were a stranger to me,
I knew not you,
or your personality.
You were a random, I found you on Facebook.
I said, ''Hi, I know you don't know me and that this is probably weird, but, hi''.
You were cute.
I didn't think it would hurt to add you and maybe talk to you a little.
About a month after I had sent that message I found out I was
switching schools...
Little did I know you went to that school.
We started talking a lot more,
we became good friends.
...I had a crush on you...
I met you about a little while after, you were so cute.
I walked in the door and you just stared at me.
I was frozen.
I was new, I didn't know what to do.
I sat in the back of the room, I kept to myself and was very quiet.
Little ol' you wouldn't let that happen.
You were nice, you talked to me, your friend on the other hand... That little creepy ******* just stared at me.
You and I started talking but so did your friend and I.
I had you and him both wrapped around my little pinky.
An accomplishment any girl in that class would love to have achieved.
Well, I dated him.
I dated my crushes best friend.
The creepy little **** who would stare at me for hours on end.
After no more than a month, he dumped me.
My feeling for Billy, my previous crush started to stir.
Why?
We became great friends.
Best friends.
I was really sad when I found out you were dating my best friend.
You guys had been dating ever since I had gotten there and I now just found out.
Boy don't I feel dumb.
That relationship you two had was cute...
But, it was short lived.
You told me you liked me...
I was shocked,
happy,
astonished,
and then again disappointed.
I told myself to wait,
told myself, ''Oh. He'll come around,''
It never happened.
I fell in love with you.
You invited me over, so I went.
We had fun.
We watched movies...
We played footsies?
Yeah, it happened.
The next Friday after that we hung out and you tutored me...
Wasn't exactly tutoring...
More like a kissing class.
Oh well, I didn't care...
At the moment.
We we're caught up in the moment, and I head you whisper something in my ear.
''Let's make it official,''
I said, ''Let's do it''
You picked me up and carried me into the bedroom,
laid me down on the bed, and passionately kissed me on the lips.
I kissed you back, life was getting better already.
March 22nd, 2012.
It's our anniversary, also my Dad's birthday.
That day leads us to where we are today.
Still together,
still in love,
reaching for our forever.
I never knew that a random guy I added on Facebook would end up meaning so much to me.
I never dreamed I would find someone I love this much.
I could never ask for more.
Now every chance my Dad get he sais, ''You and him are the best birthday present I had ever gotten!''
I wish he was still here today to say that, he left about two months into our relationship.
Jun 13, 2013
Jun 13, 2013 at 6:18 AM UTC
Oh, I can smile for you, and tilt my head,
And drink your rushing words with eager lips,
And paint my mouth for you a fragrant red,
And trace your brows with tutored finger-tips.
When you rehearse your list of loves to me,
Oh, I can laugh and marvel, rapturous-eyed.
And you laugh back, nor can you ever see
The thousand little deaths my heart has died.
And you believe, so well I know my part,
That I am gay as morning, light as snow,
And all the straining things within my heart
You'll never know.
Oh, I can laugh and listen, when we meet,
And you bring tales of fresh adventurings, --
Of ladies delicately indiscreet,
Of lingering hands, and gently whispered things.
And you are pleased with me, and strive anew
To sing me sagas of your late delights.
Thus do you want me -- marveling, gay, and true,
Nor do you see my staring eyes of nights.
And when, in search of novelty, you stray,
Oh, I can kiss you blithely as you go ....
And what goes on, my love, while you're away,
You'll never know.
4.4k
Why Men Like to Load the Dishwasher
We are the artists of shape and configuration,
puzzle masters solving riddles of physics,
worshipers at the altar of labor saving devices,
this is a love poem of sorts, a Bazinga salutation,
to men and their undying love
for **** machines.
were it in my power
all cups would be handle-less,
the dishwasher time-space continuum
would be non-interrupted by black holes
where handles pointlessly protrude,
requiring endless rearrangement,
a soul destroying exercise.
bowls of any sort should have bottoms that retract.
indeed, the capacity increase, a visible fact,
is so enviro-friendly, eminently sensible,
that the loading for mechanical scrubbing
is deserved of a wing in the Smithsonian.
perhaps the budgeteers of Congress
should be tutored in this artistry,
how to make any limited resource,
better used.
the rub, as the bard would have writ,
is that this roaring tempest-tost,
our love for hard labor lost,
secret sacrificed behind a locked door,
of a Sanctum ********
is entirely due, all glory to,
the secret society of fairies who
hide-reside inside,
freeing us to write more poetry.
in so many ways that I cannot reveal,
less the other gender members squeal,
men live to love to load the dishwasher,
for the ingenuity challenge, and of course,
the side benefit of the excusing coverup,
"I helped clean up," a relationship saver,
proof positively that the dishwasher inventor,
was surely a brilliant woman
May 25, 2013
May 25, 2013 at 8:26 AM UTC
How much of knowing does it take
To show, that one knows
I have been tutored for so long
How long will I take to learn
Weren’t they good enough
The lessons that we learned
That weren’t taught
How long does it take
For one to know
That what we have learned
Is good enough
For a lifetime
Or does it really take a lifetime
Jul 13, 2025
Jul 13, 2025 at 1:53 PM UTC
The Beauty Of Wisdom And Intelligence,
You are seen in the Cosmic Reality herself,
You are the female part of Christ, called Wisdom and Intelligence,
Your Cosmic Math's is a beautiful thing to behold,
That a unlearned person like me who loves sports like me who is too unlearned in the world's eyes to understand the beauty of the Math's of the Cosmic Reality herself,
So only the real genius mind's understand your true beauty in the Cosmic Reality herself,
But I was good enough at math's at college to get a 98% in a test score and student tutored a girl in class called Bev.
But Wisdom and Intelligence; you really enlightened great minds like Newton, Einstein and Hawking's?
So Wisdom and Intelligence hear my simple math's plea, I am alone and the math's of Wisdom and Intelligence say's its not right for man to be alone?
So make the one alone into two and then the two become one again?
So my math's is simple and unlearned by Wisdom and Intelligence's mathematical eyes; but its the most beautiful sum in the Cosmic Reality herself?
So Wisdom and Intelligence says I've done the math's?
I've marked your sum; I have graded your test paper A+ and gifted you a younger sister bride to be the sum of sums for all eternality,
This younger sister bride will never divide her love for you,
Because one divide into two should stay two, but by theoretical mathematician's the two become the perfect nought number of one raised to nought or zero power nought or zero is one for all eternality,
You shall always be one in body, heart, mind and soul,
You will always have Wisdom and Intelligence tutoring you about the beauty in the Math's of the Cosmic Reality herself,
But never forget to look up at the star's, nebula's and galaxies together and the two who are one see the Math's of love in each other's eyes and the math's of love in the Cosmic Reality herself.
Dec 30, 2021
Dec 30, 2021 at 11:14 AM UTC
Shakespeare would have failed Naplan,
That was not in his cunning plan,
Yes, his folks would have him tutored,
To ensure Billy became learned,
He would have lost his homework,
Billy did so not want extra work,
Shakespeare, that teen scallywag,
It was total fun, such a lad.
Now Shakespeare is a wraith,
Why, Billy, why? Teens sayeth,
As they serially fail literacy tests,
Why not abolish that Billy pest?
Tragic heroes and drama queens,
That's the teens writing essays on such scenes,
While Billy failed in literacy,
Teens do sense such hypocrisy.
Jul 31, 2015
Jul 31, 2015 at 5:30 AM UTC
Resting couched and cross-legged
by the hearth at Old Faithful Inn
I read of fire-seared Montana.
My restive mind roams back
a century and a half
to when flames ruled Yellowstone -
cracking open Lodgepole cones -
spending seeds on blackened soil.
Youthful pines soared skyward:
tutored by seven score seasons
of showers, frost and sun
nourished by leaf-meal and char.
Then loggers came to notch their trunks
and sent them arcing to the forest floor.
Carpenters fixed them to the wall
where the moose head stares me down.
Montana pine cones crackle as I read.
After soaking rains have quenched the flames,
those seeds will rise to giant towers
before yielding to the whine of chainsaw teeth.
A gray haired man will enter
a rustic Montana lodge,
a coffee mug clutched in one hand,
the morning paper in the other
and sit fire-warmed by a granite hearth
set in a wall of Lodgepole Pines.
January, 2007
Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 1:40 PM UTC
Hope it was that tutored me,
And Love that taught me more;
And now I learn at Sorrow's knee
The self-same lore.
1.8k
I’m Medusa, yes Medusa
Not long life that was Methuselah
Vile violent visage I am the muse for
Gorgon legend is my future
I’m abused and an abuser
I am used and I’m a user
Magnet to so many suitors
Once a beauty now a bruiser
Myth: Just deserts for killer cougar
Truth: ***** then accused as a seducer
Athene was my disapprover
Sisterhood is just a rumour
Hair curled tight it can’t get smoother
Locks they’re snakes crawled from a sewer
Lovers now they’re getting fewer
Call me mad it’s only lunar
Perseus my persecutor
In slaying Titans he’d been tutored
He is blessed, I’m outmanoeuvred
My death births Pegasus the wing’d hoofer
Seem to have lost my sense of humour
Need more than a troubleshooter
Temperature has just got cooler
Turn to stone you’re such a loser
anna jones ©2017
Apr 7, 2017
Apr 7, 2017 at 4:17 PM UTC
**Intolerant feet of clay
shout out “Not Him!“
echoing, ignored
Life’s cathartic poetry
now mediates extrovert ideas
and introvert intuitions
Past’s flicker of persona masks
solicit with anima driven darker roles
remote and mysterious - not nice
Real now, not reflecting her animus
all becomes stilled and naked, to seek
that physical and spiritual soul mate
Jung’s bucket plumbs the black well
awash from hidden depths of creativity
and kindred ghost’s of spirituality
Change is loss then change - feeds
thy growth’s capacity for understanding
socket of creativity and enlightenment
Life’s tutored process of intelligence
responds elegantly to image and symbol
as a morality conducts the minds music
Babbling on to sip from the well
gains tested may then help others
Ghost glimpsed not genius or mad
spirituality and love held close**
.
May 11, 2010
May 11, 2010 at 10:04 AM UTC
_I rest my head on her shoulder,
The shoulder of the earth;
Cradled in her warmth,
Caught by shifting currents,
Cleansed by hoar-frost’s pervasive bite;
Tutored by seasons’ changes.
Musing to myself that she has faith in me,
That I have something to offer her;
Negotiating with my intellect,
Letting my imagination run wild,
Enough to entertain the idea that
I am capable of something more than this._
Aug 24, 2020
Aug 24, 2020 at 3:35 AM UTC
He was confined to his room and seldom left the house
His parents were scared of the attention he may arouse
At 3 months itself he had started to speak
Relatives never stayed in touch because they thought he was a freak
With an IQ level higher than Albert Einstein
If he was let go he would definitely be enshrined
At the age of 7 he had deciphered meta physics
The reason for this boy being so smart was apparently his brain being psychedelic
At the age of 9, his parents found a hand made robot under his bed
And a self made bike, like never seen before, in their shed
He never went to school and was tutored at home
Though he never needed either due to his extraordinary chromosone
His weakness was the ordinary; he couldn't calculate when to break or when to steer
On the other hand, his eidetic memory allowed him to recite all 154 sonnets of William Shakespeare
The only real fear for the parents was the world finding out
Nothing stays in; the suspicious neighbors broke in, saw his works and let out a shout
So the parents took the boy and made a run for it
The boy trailed behind clueless; this wasn't his area of wit
But nothing can stay a secret in this world of nosy men
The government, in no time, located their den
His parents didn't want him to get into the wrong hands; but they couldn't even ask him to run
And that's why The Boy Who Knew Too Much would never again see the sun...
Mar 16, 2014
Mar 16, 2014 at 10:44 AM UTC
Dominating democracy
The current debonair
Popular rule world over
Parties playfully bannered
Need to be well mannered
Dreamed deemed democracy
Of the people, for the people
Cozy easy essence of electoral pulpit
An elusive mirage of political outfit
Exciting polls parlour
Power crazy parties
Seat savvy leaders
Alluring elections
Festoon of manifesto
Tuned and tutored motto
Voters’ votes wide divide
Soapy sops sweep success
Massive mandate despise
Despite passive poll
Empower modern emperor
His rising raging entourage
Poles apart; ex-party departs
Next party takes part
Polls uphold democracy
Parties unfold idiosyncrasy
Polls are tools of power pools
Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 8:04 PM UTC
Trapped in traffic in the city of density,
Warmed up and wormed forth my way,
Thru’ wild and wayward wheelers.
Whose motion commissioned in commotion.
Each movement a moment of maze,
With lurking fear looming large,
As tri-colour signals flagged ever green,
To a crisscross invader at a jittery junction.
Rules rolled are trampled on unruly roads,
Capped up cops snapped and coped up in vain,
Tutored wheelers swerved and swarmed,
Rules defined, flouters fined but never refined.
Will and wit overtook wisdom to breach and reach,
As taunting time forced a daunting spree,
My feet on ABC pads in a cosy car chair,
Danced up and down hand in hand,
With a wavering steering wheel at hand,
And tow my way in brushing bruising wand.
All and sundry on a shaky rock and roll,
Risk from dawn to dusk on explosive toll,
Rains draining up on potholes end up in pitfalls,
No solution or salvation in sight for safety,
Oh city users, muscle up your mind,
For a tough tussle of travel ahead around.
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 8:31 PM UTC
(20 minute poetry)
They'll choose the advertising
to wrap up their lies in
and we'll open their gifts?
that lift us from
doom
in martyrdom the peasants weep please advertise those things that make us sleep, in targeted bullets and pills they make the most of our ills to make the most of returns and the countryside burns with righteous indignation
'twas an opinion poll that told us so and we all know that
they must be right.
More fuel to the fire
the profits go higher
people go lower and
down on the scale.
We're being brainwashed
emasculated
neutered
tutored by
billboard
and
drained of all hope.
But I'd drink a tin with a bull on
If then I could pull on
a pair of red wings and
fly swiftly away.
May 23, 2016
May 23, 2016 at 10:22 AM UTC
In seventeen sixty nine a child was born
in Corsica, Genoa's former vassal state.
Prior to his birth, his land had been war-torn,
Paoli's resistance did his birth predate.
At school, his geometrical talent was inborn,
and he was tutored by none other than Laplace.
For his accent, his peers at school laughed him to scorn,
but fortune would elevate him from grass to grace.
With his much older heartthrob he tied the knot;
much to the chagrin of his own dear family.
For the heart of Josephine he relentlessly fought,
and at Chateau de Malmaison they lived happily.
Later he would choose a military career
that would take him beyond the Corsican frontier.
France's revolution saw to his glorious rise,
when at Toulon, he took royalists by surprise.
To Egypt he led a dual expedition
of a military and scientific mission.
To France he returned and sacked the directory,
taking charge of the affairs of state and treasury.
Europe did contend with him in seven coalitions;
at Austerlitz he subjugated two nations,
at Marengo, Austria on her bended knees fell,
at Jena-Auerstadt, Prussia to victory bade farewell.
At Borodino, Russia met her nemesis,
as her vanquished forces saw their paralysis.
At Ligny, Blucher like a beaten canine fled
with the terribly smitten forces he once led.
Portugal's sovereign lord to distant Brazil ran,
when like an invincible lord he came to his realm.
The emperor he feared, and made no military plan;
thus he paved the way for him to ascend his helm.
But despite his triumphs, his weakness was exposed.
At Rolica, his troops a major set back saw.
From Leipzig he did to Elba's island withdraw,
from whence in 1815 he returned unopposed.
Russia's wintry plains did his grand armee deplete,
making his troops vulnerable to a future defeat.
After the famous battles in which he gloried,
his great ambition at Waterloo was buried.
Feb 17, 2023
Feb 17, 2023 at 7:54 PM UTC
As usual I awake, open my phone & observe a virtual world full of my peers Opinions.
But the things I'm seeing & hearing today, this time I can't sit back and listen.
When someone points out your negative habits, you rebel, utter "this is my life" & that's it. Nobody ever budges.
Same Love becomes legalized, & you're offended? People who feel so alone, now have some light shed into a tunnel of hiding and depression & I see a shortage on law degrees but an abundance of judges.
I've watched my generation, friends I've had from childhood drown and disintegrate in sin you guys praise, Hallucinogens, violence, theft, disrespect, *** antecedent to matrimony, all these things you same judges promote.
Now today, people with blunts in their grips, blood on their hands, with children despite lack of marriage, but more importantly people we allow to live their lives and be happy want to condemn others for being happy makes me sick, puts a disgusting blockade in my throat.
Gay love is love too & they deserve the same smiles you have. A gay woman once tutored me to pass a much needed course, a gay guy one returned my wallet when I thought I was surely going to hurt for weeks, I have so many stories.
God is the ultimate judge & we will all be judged for our sins. I just feel like there's so many things wrong with this world today, two people being happy should be the least of our worries.
Love Wins -Dash Pinder
Jun 26, 2015
Jun 26, 2015 at 1:55 PM UTC
Born with sword
Tutored by pen
Comfortable as commerce
Enrich your friend
Knowledge is all
Murmured by few
Vanity is cruel
Implicit yet blue
Love the lady
High and toxic
Giant yet precious
Oblivious or noxious
Delicate in grave
Alone and unshared
Hollow the husk
Nothing to bare
Jun 30, 2016
Jun 30, 2016 at 8:01 PM UTC
Plummet-less
I feel gummy
I do 'the correct thing'
and move on ;
tutored
Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 10:39 PM UTC
Life is a ceaseless mystery
Man lives with his mastery
Unjust, he justifies his actions
His oracle ends up in a debacle
His justice is self-adjudged as best
Justice juggled to his needs and deeds
Fair judgment makes one happy for once
And unfair one keeps all hapless always.
Lawyer quotes law and courts witness
Witness exhibits his tuned and tutored wit
As tussle of right and wrong goes along
Judgment ends up with justice to one,
And injustice to other begins to open up.
Oh behold! The Supreme Justice,
The luring, daring and dear divine
Who makes flawless laws of creation,
Who creates to destroy any thing sooner,
And destroys to create all things later,
Who made birth and death a myth
Life paired up with hope and despair
The Lord is forthright and farsighted,
He floated a flawless law of nature,
He withholds injustice to uphold justice,
His Majesty is frank and fair,
His Balance Sheet is clean and clear
His judgment is fine and final,
Man’s good deeds are his best assets,
His bad deals are his lingering liabilities
His net-worth makes hell of difference;
Gleam or gloom, flourish or perish.
Justice delayed but never denied.
Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 9:22 PM UTC
Oh, in pains is my heart forsaken!
as chastened use has chased away
what Love's abundance canst provide;
and whichever path she may have upon
advanced or taken, I must hastened choose
to search this whole world imagined,
both far and wide.
Ah, how an eminence does make the maiden
youth where ev'ry other breath in innocence sets her
chest to fall, to rise; and now I speak just to thee in truth,
in case thou hasn't heard me hence, or believed me true.
Do cease the actions of mischievous type, as roguery isn't
worth the childish enterprise: rather to me extend thy hand, impassioned, as I to my goddess rise!
Allow me to enter, kiss thee upon that
hand as then, then when I would always
askance grin -ere I'm reduced to inanition
in your absence on this night, such as I have
often chanced to be when first astray in the
variable contrast of ineffectual obscurity.
In my thoughts a resident thou art, my fantasy
perceived as a great charmer, a beauty to beseech
-one whose constant sufferers are the broken heart,
it's action ceased within those past suitors which have
only been half-tutored in that ancient art, which to you
I did teach: but the unbelievers naked eye wilt see nothing
of your radiant form, which I defend, set truly apart!
Yet ye thru usury harm this poor man, as you hurriedly
dart out after I come in; in and out of my reality, on this
you are bent, one that the real world called strangely
marked, a world forlorn that fears that which it doesn't
understand, (or envies.)
Do you, mine maiden, not see things as they were; or in
your leave of absence comprehend that the complex of
elements that reasons hath made thee-as God did make
the universe in an ambiguous flight of fancy-where thru
convictions solely are such dimensions and reflections given
worth?
You are all that torments my fiery soul cruelly, so cruelly,
again and again,
as you do as e'er alter my Heaven, and make falser my Earth!
Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 9:53 PM UTC
I am but a mere child clinging to my mother s breast
******* out the love she has inside, as it makes me
Dizzy as if I am high.
The warmth and nourishment that it gives
Gets me stronger – with the strength to live.
Mother! Your love can’t be denied, it is something you cannot hide.
And you may not be around to see me grow
But in your heart you will know.
Whether it be distance or death that keeps us apart
You will always have me in your heart.
You nurtured and tutored me to know right from wrong
And showed me how to become unselfish and strong.
You showed me how a mother s gentle heart can be
And from indignations and chains you set me free.
We was born free – no leg irons or shackles to be found
Even the umbilical cord was thrown to the ground.
We as children are born free as eagles up in the sky
We could soar and we could climb.
All of this has been given to me, because you and GOD set me free.
GOD gave us a brain for us to use, and a heart with which to choose.
But the most important thing he gave to me
Was a mother “who loved me “.
© L . RAMS 12414
Jan 24, 2014
Jan 24, 2014 at 8:55 PM UTC
*Daedalean feathers
tutored our wings to fly
while in open fields
or vaulted ceilings
flowing angel tears have
taught our hearts to cry*
●○
°
Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 4:27 AM UTC
Trapped in traffic in the city of density,
Warmed up and wormed forth my way,
Thru’ wild and wayward wheelers.
Whose motion commissioned in commotion.
Each movement a moment of maze,
With lurking fear looming large,
As tri-colour signals flagged ever green,
To a crisscross invader at a jittery junction.
Rules rolled are trampled on unruly roads,
Capped up cops snapped and coped up in vain,
Tutored wheelers swerved and swarmed,
Rules defined, flouters fined but never refined.
Will and wit overtook wisdom to breach and reach,
As taunting time forced a daunting spree,
My feet on ABC pads in a cosy car chair,
Danced up and down hand in hand,
With a wavering steering wheel at hand,
And tow my way in brushing bruising wand.
All and sundry on a shaky rock and roll,
Risk from dawn to dusk on explosive toll,
Rains draining up on potholes end up in pitfalls,
No solution or salvation in sight for safety,
Oh city users, muscle up your mind,
For a tough tussle of travel ahead around.
Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 6:15 PM UTC