"versatility" poems
Oh, to be a poet
one must be so emotional.
Well, no. Not necessarily.
We're only really capable
of understanding feeling,
investigating our emotions.
It doesn't mean we cry all day,
or pass nights in dark rooms moping.
We have lives; come home from work
or get in on a night bus back;
it's from all this experience
that we can draw out fact.
From mundane to extraordinary
we will become inspired.
Our strength is versatility
and life ignights our fires.
So, we do not all have to be
constricted to intensity
-to ponder oh-so seriously
on what it simply means 'to be'.
We can be strong, flirty, or mean
or to the brim with confidence.
For, what does 'to be a poet' mean,
if you cannot explore yourself?
Jun 13, 2018
Jun 13, 2018 at 11:53 AM UTC
What I bring to the table is Sensitivity, Sincerity, Compassion,
Honesty and Respect
What I bring to the table is Intelligence, Good Grace and Humour,
Understanding and Confidence
What I bring to the table is Generosity in spirit and Deeds, Calmness and Reflection, Strength, Bravery and Courage
What I bring to the table is a Caring Soul, a Good Heart and Faith,
Loyalty and Truthfulness and Trust
What I bring to the table is Versatility, Competence and Originality
What I bring to the table is the Love of Romeo and Real Passion
unrivalled..........
So tell me why I am being GREEDY if I say I do not care if I eat alone!
Am I to blame if some chose not to see
Am I to blame if stunted pride and ego blinds
Am I to blame if stupidity and foolishness abound
Am I to blame if complexes and insecurities assail some
Am I to blame if dishonesty and fickleness is more appealing
Am I to blame if envy and jealousy blind eyes and minds in others
Am I to blame if they term caring and attentive as clingy
Am I to blame if they term Intelligence and Honesty as arrogance
Am I to blame if they term Strength, Bravery and Courage as Male
Chauvanism
Am I to blame if they term Intelligence Competence and originality
as Controlling
Am I to blame when they lack the Ability to look honestly and truthfully within themselves before pointing their fingers
So tell me why I am being GREEDY if I say I do not care if I eat alone
So tell me why I am being GREEDY if I say I do not care if I eat alone
at my table..........
Aug 26, 2018
Aug 26, 2018 at 3:33 PM UTC
I have been forced,
Out of domicile,
And now **** bored,
With sojourners' world worthwhile.
I used to love phones,
It's versatility in functioning,
Obeying instructions at all zones,
I loved making calls and chatting .
That was long ago ,
When it made me feel at home,
Simply chatting could let go ,
Steam and heartbreak loom.
Not now at this century ,
Where them need airtime to pick a call,
Where successive missed calls arouse no worry,
When they no bother reply at all.
I won't lower my self -esteem,
Not because of them dissaproval,
That I aint classy and fit for hymn,
Its okey if u take me for a mall.
Needless fight a loosing battle anymore ,
You won't torture me again as u laugh,
Beaming is me at nirvana jaw,
I declare enough is enough.
Jul 21, 2018
Jul 21, 2018 at 4:10 PM UTC
I never understood “made in God’s image” until I saw her.
Anyone who’s seen her has higher expectations for what heaven looks like.
We’re both sensitive enough to know what love feels like,
and reasonable enough to know that it can be broken.
The first time you use a new toothbrush is nothing like the first time you kiss a girl,
But I still love them both.
Her laugh is a paradox; an outsider would think she either just said the cleverest thing ever or she wishes she could retract it faster than it was said.
Only I know it’s simply because it’s beautiful. It’s easily my favorite language.
I have considered wearing a wiretap so I could go back and listen to all of our conversations again. And I hope that it picked up her heartbeat. She told me, it’s beating exactly like life should sound like.
She offers to iron any wrinkled clothes. I don’t have any. But I have a wrinkled heart.
I thought it was made into origami but it’s just a wadded ball that missed the wastebasket.
The way she dances to hip-hop shows her versatility,
yet you can tell she doesn’t do this every day; but she still dances.
I’m almost too nervous to hug her - knowing it will have to end.
Whenever I let go, I feel like I made a mistake.
Her voice trails off into silence,
like an hourglass that’s trying to hold itself together.
I like that “click-clack” of her boots.
It lets me know I’m next to someone really going places.
She goes to the mini mart with me even when she doesn't want to get anything,
besides more time together.
Nov 13, 2012
Nov 13, 2012 at 1:44 AM UTC
Contemplating the versatility of Mayo
And all that can be done with it
From the slathering on whilst sun bathing
To globbing it on my bologna sandwich
I find it tantalizing to the tastebuds
And it sure does sizzle in the sun
I once applied to much and set my toes on fire
Lucky for me I lost only one
Thank goodness I was near the water
When my foot went up in flames
I guess that's why God gives us ten toes
In case we lose any along the way
As with anything you can even get bored with Mayonnaise
That's why I strive for different ideas
So I put my brain juices into overdrive
And came up with this amazing list
Instead of milk in a shake you can use Mayo
Please wait till the end for all the applause
I'm still having trouble dealing with thickness
And have yet to get it through the straw
Perhaps if I leave out the ice cream
And just add Mayo, milk chocolate, and ice
I guess I'll just keep on experimenting
When it's ready you can be the first in line
And who doesn't like mayonnaise on anchovie pizza
The perfect combination at best
Even better than peanut butter and jelly
If only I can figure out how to package it
Mayonnaise is also the perfect conditioner
You could leave it in your hair for days I suppose
But try to avoid to much time in the sun
After all...remember the toes
I'm going back to my room for more ideas now
Or as I like to call it..."The Mayo Think Tank"
I know my family thinks I'm a genius
Cause they always leave me in there for days
Sep 23, 2013
Sep 23, 2013 at 3:47 PM UTC
my daily regimen, focused, intense,
a pugilistic kata of the tongue,
in preparation for our oral fence,
run laps around ideas, expand lungs,
my visualization of that day--
we spar with strikes and parries, counterstrikes,
in reasonings' most ****** kumite,
my verbal knuckles down her oral pikes,
so armed with good reasons to reconcile,
arriving at the place where she should be,
she proves to be so much more versatile
absent, my wasted versatility,
i cannot win with passion or with rage,
a lover's heart which simply won't engage
(C)2012, Christos Rigakos
Apr 29, 2012
Apr 29, 2012 at 2:29 PM UTC
~ Beaming with radiance, confident with a luminous glow
Full of life, your high spirits will continuously grow
~ Your optimism shows like a great beam of light
Filled with positive energy, your mind and soul are bright
~ Versatility mixed with eagerness, you’ll never be without
Simply travel and explore whenever faced with great doubt
~ Your honest spirit keeps you balanced, and your mind outspoken
Not worried about what the people see, you keep your mind open
~ The tolerance you acquire is a trait to be remembered
It may be confused with appearing judgmental
~ Always entertained, with your creative outlook on life
If things don’t go as planned, you continue on with your night
~ While restless at times, every atmosphere stays positive
Through consequences due to risks you take, you always stay confident
~ Never let the consequences impact you with negativity
Adventures are meant to be made, throughout each and every vicinity
~Meagan Williams
1.21.13
Jan 21, 2013
Jan 21, 2013 at 11:32 PM UTC
Agony of the fantasy, so lazily, with no probability
the ecstasy so randomly seen with eyes of atrophy
my heart beats so rapidly for the sake of catastrophe
so i gallantly step on the travesty of the compatibility
i casually see my casualty through eyes of calamity
searching so actively for a canopy of rationality
my mind thinks abnormality is better than conformity
actuality meets versatility or circumstantial amity
thinking elaborately not organically, of reality
a tapestry so naturally put together differently
visually vivid quality is a visible consistency
no commonality, critically crushed by normality
Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 3:51 PM UTC
Let us awake from the decay of strategic costumes where the incestuous fragrance of madness permeates golden dreams of eclectic strokes.
Bureaucratic self-enhancement nurtures docile manufacturers of laborious compliance, whilst social conscience plummets to depths of callous and entrepreneurial versatility.
Enduring imitations of an unsatisfactory kind is like pairing mint fondant with rich and savoury gravy which is acquired with strategic dishonesty.
Oh, negligent wakefulness – will we ever arise and discern those lobotomised representatives in this legislative brothel of excessive absurdity?
Shake me at one minute to midnight in the House of Lords.
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 10:44 PM UTC
Home.
It's a noun.
It's also an adjective, adverb, and verb.
It is the place in which one's domestic affections are centered.
A place in which
The essence of childhood, innocence, and versatility
Bloom like a spring annual.
But after the clock of those 18 years
Runs out
You are free to leave.
In fact, you are encouraged
To move to another
Until you build a home for yourself.
Some never build another home
They find decent company
In one night stands
And the nicotine tinged, cigarette burned sofas.
Some build a home better than the one they came.
Gardenias, chrysanthemums, and marigolds in the garden;
Scrubbing a crayon medium portrait
Off the comic latte walls.
I have a distorted image of home.
All these places I want to go and
All these people I want to meet.
I cannot settle
Until I have shaken hands with the world itself
But the argument still standing is
Do I go alone?
I have never been good with loneliness
And yet I crave the anonymity
Of standing on the street, watching the cars rush by
Knowing
I am not bound by failure.
I am not tethered down by my haunting past
No definitions chained to my shoulders
Forever slumping my chest.
No.
I will meet many people and learn from them.
I will tell people my name is different.
Soon, I will be the wisp of stardust
Hovering in the void
Between here and there
Changing,
Yet staying absolutely the same.
I deem myself a traveler.
Eventually meeting the civilizations
That created my favorite words.
Maybe in a few years at my high school reunion
My old classmates will have kids to show their progress
And I will have the words and wisdom from a thousand cultures
And that will be enough,
For travel is the soul of me.
Nov 16, 2013
Nov 16, 2013 at 1:46 AM UTC
sometimes i feel like a citrus
lemon, orange, lime, or grapefruit
fragrant and flavorful
my insides bitter or sweet
and my outsides the exact opposite
high quantities of acid regardless
eat me raw
press my juice, i make a great 'ade
you may also preserve me in a marmalade
sometimes i feel like an apple
do not call me a crab tho
a globose pome
my outside has smooth shiny skin
my inside is sweet or **** yet soft
my centre contains seeds arranged in a star-like manner
i make great pies
but i also pair great with cheese
my versatility allows me to please
sometimes i feel like grape
growing from the woody vines
my flexibility is far and wide
raisins, vinegar, oil, and wines
i prefer to remain in a cluster of friends
im afraid to venture out
because i need them to sustain
sometimes i feel like anything other than me
i am tired of looking in the mirror
i have grown weary of what i see
so i pick flora and fauna
inanimate objects
weather and time
space and place
to rectify my existence
in some way that i can relate
at least when i list fruit
my belly aches with delight
Apr 12, 2013
Apr 12, 2013 at 3:37 PM UTC
Copper and Tin conceive versatility
Cheeky hearts furiously forge
Russet eyes surveyed, swim
Through my silver stare
Impulsively Stubborn
Impatiently Steadfast
Generously Indulgent
Curiously Musical
In its alliance a revelation
Fresh Inspiration
Nov 26, 2012
Nov 26, 2012 at 12:25 PM UTC
What do you make of this?
I ask my cup of morning oil
Loyally sitting in front of me
the oil of versatility.
The oil that pushes me
with the ferocity
of a combat rooster
I sit in silence and contemplation
as my feet begin to itch. I must go. I must find time, of which I have little. I must discover the spaces between spaces to act out this sickness of desperation. I turn to my oil deity. As I run and stumble and fall in search of my cure, she sits there on the table every day, waiting for me to come home, knowing that I am just as sick as when I left and as the day before.
My love and damnation
She makes me endure.
Jan 25, 2014
Jan 25, 2014 at 3:34 PM UTC
dear universe,
please give me a new lover for christmas
one with eyes that shine with longevity
a smile that tempts the angels from heaven
abs to defy my steely resolve
and a heart made to eventually be broken
I wish me love in lottery jackpot proportions
above and beyond all possible expectations
like two years in india learning tantra
under road trip wheels and fire brands
yes, give me fire on sticks and chains
I need the rugged ********* to my sadist
with versatility for control sometimes
variety being the spice of life
twist his ivory grin into moans for me
send me to his secret pleasure
I know that everything is possible
that today I can be unexpectedly in his dreams
a face he recognizes in his soul
searching but not knowing that he is
unaware of this silver thread
let him find me hidden in plain sight
right next to the thing he forgot
in the place he now remembers
what he needed but didn't know until now
let me be that fulfillment
I want him for my advent
a sweet treat every day until the ******
where the gift we give each other is our presence
and then we give over and over again
this mission without need of mistletoe to begin
so I will send out this supplication of longing
for touch and kiss and ecstacy of flesh
I will focus desire into manefestation
breathed into reality with incense and sage
until his fingertips find my cheek
and we are joined
Nov 29, 2011
Nov 29, 2011 at 12:09 PM UTC
You dare to laugh, at my pen my gun
My staff,
So much versatility in introduction
Of pen and paper, instant humility
My depictions of words Allow me to splurge mediforic descriptions that purge all from the
Pen this urge,
And when I paper they merge, and together they breed my words are it's seed it is my pen I need it is my weapon indeed
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 12:03 PM UTC
This antique mirror boosts no confidence. Concave
reveals its magic tricks with an incurvate
red surface. Some human hair
blending braids are there to fancify your boxers, your removable
metallic silver suspenders underwear and
her red bra underwire slips. It is a new style.
I feel anguish, when I touch the pull locks. Her picture
of the antique statue is hidden between all those things. She
enters the mirror to kiss you every time you look at it. Like jelly candies
are her lipsticks on that silver, but
they have different taste. For me,
they look like isoquants, or indifference curves. I want
to leave you. What do you think?
The water that drips from the mirror, when I wash it, is like crimsonblood. Scary
optical illusions split the reality into two variants through my woe,
and create a much looser and less direct relationship
between us than ever. You live for
your comfort and versatility. You cannot change it.
Sep 2, 2013
Sep 2, 2013 at 9:32 AM UTC
maybe i don't know much, but i do know about the fires inside of me urging to be extinguished.
they feel much larger than i am.
they scream for any means of relief.
so heavy they might as well be an extra limb.
the human heart has unique versatility of loving so hard, feeling so deeply, but also experiencing so much ******* pain.
whether it be anger
resentment
or just outright sadness,
in whatever form it manifests, it's loss.
your sanity, a person, your equilibrium.
in whichever way you grieve, a loss is a loss.
but, you've got to hold on, my love.
human beings are crafted far too beautifully to fall short of anything but going down swining.
i bear witness to the flames turning into smouldering reminders that the world is so **** tough.
but when relief comes, it comes.
it doesn't feel much like it now, but the darkness does subside.
in the same way that the earth begins to repair itself after all of this devastation, you too can be begin again.
- show me a map of the battle wounds, but markers on the places that cut the deepest.
-don't cry anger, or pity, or knives. just cry.
Apr 1, 2016
Apr 1, 2016 at 1:05 AM UTC
I know it’s cliché
To say “All the world’s a stage”
But truth lies here
To perform our parts
Versatility, adaptation
Assimilation
Roles presented as they may
To be hero or villain
Innocent or conniving
How much one chooses to reveal
To their audience
What secrets will stay hidden
Until a fight to the death
All in all
"All the world's a stage"
Jun 27, 2011
Jun 27, 2011 at 5:54 AM UTC
My type is flexibility.
My kink is versatility.
I try to draw into my life,
those of the same nature.
However, I find myself
attracting those
with a lot less elasticity.
Is it because they wanna be like me, malleable?
I try to help but there is no fluctuation.
You're so stiff, you just snap.
You give me nothing to work with, nothing willing to be formed.
How can you and I become we,
and we become one,
when you refuse to merge?
May 24, 2019
May 24, 2019 at 11:26 PM UTC
clouds, are versatile,
look how they change!
but, problem arises,
when they forget when to stop.
Feb 4, 2012
Feb 4, 2012 at 8:22 PM UTC
Poetry ought to do things right
and document reality
but modern muses lose the fight
celebrating diversity.
Out-doing themselves, our leaders all
legitimize perversity.
Who gave them this satanic call
to demonize normality ?
The Washington nobility
who build a babel here on earth
display a versatility
for showing all their dubious worth.
They can't go One-World fast enough
discounting Christianity.
The matriarchy's mom is tough,
enforcing femininity...
Milk of mammalian global beast
(humanist animality)
From Nanny's withered poison breast
infects us biologically;
maintaining infantility.
Nov 25, 2016
Nov 25, 2016 at 5:08 PM UTC
Ace fashion designer Rajesh Pratap Singh, who recently collaborated with Kullu-based handloom weavers Bhuttico for a collection, says he is passionate about the handloom industry which is his source of inspiration. Rajesh Pratap and Bhuttico’s fashionable affair was held in Kullu last week and highlighted the farm-to-fashion journey of Merino wool which is part of the Woolmark Company’s Grown In Australia, Made In India initiative.
“I am extremely passionate about the handloom industry as it is the primary source of my inspiration. I love the versatility of Merino wool, especially since it’s so easy to work with and supports various techniques and blends,” Rajesh Pratap said in a statement.
The designer, who is known for using Indian textiles and for working with ikat, presented a menswear and womenswear collection. The special line focused on the handloom journey of Bhuttico and their rich legacy.
The collection was a juxtaposition of clean lines and colourful weaves, and highlighted Rajesh Pratap’s signature minimal aesthetics and intense construction.
The designer feels “the fashion fraternity has constantly been striving to highlight the textile and handloom industry in India”.
“Owing to our country’s rich heritage each state adds another dimension of culture which is also captured beautifully by our weaves,” he said.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-canberra | www.marieaustralia.com/plus-size-formal-dresses
Oct 13, 2016
Oct 13, 2016 at 2:53 AM UTC
She finds her glee
Through starlight and moonbeams
At night.
Through bees and trees that sway
By day.
Through the ocean and sandy feet
Where the water and the earth meet
And greet
Mountains and hilly terrain.
Green plains.
Marry me
To this earth
Harbor it
In my heart
For all eternity.
And preserve
Its versatility.
Sep 5, 2013
Sep 5, 2013 at 3:57 PM UTC
What is this great fruit?
All of life's bounty, in this one root.
The apple of the earth;
From the dirt it doth birth.
Bake, roast, mash,
All else goes to the trash.
The potato's taste is so fine,
Its versatility? Just divine.
***** fries, tossed in pies,
Potatoes are the best, no compromise.
Oct 30, 2020
Oct 30, 2020 at 3:10 PM UTC