Here is a list of Most Liked Beat Poems written by members. Read poetry, post your own poems or comments. Poems on these pages are copyrighted © by the authors who entered them. Click here to post a poem.
Frog’s Legs
Once upon a time there lived a boy
Who was groomed to become a prince,
Get married and live happily ever since
That story took the wrong course
There is more to it than
A bunch of lies in a pool of pain
No purpose to dwell, regret or to blame
The fairy tale fell apart
Leaving a girl with a broken heart
The boy destined to become a prince
Turned into a frog
And chose to live in a swamp ever since
When an appetizer of fried frogs legs
Is served to you in a restaurant
Beware they may belong to a prince
Who lived his life with a broken heart
Who was groomed to become a prince,
Get married and live happily ever since
That story took the wrong course
There is more to it than
A bunch of lies in a pool of pain
No purpose to dwell, regret or to blame
The fairy tale fell apart
Leaving a girl with a broken heart
The boy destined to become a prince
Turned into a frog
And chose to live in a swamp ever since
When an appetizer of fried frogs legs
Is served to you in a restaurant
Beware they may belong to a prince
Who lived his life with a broken heart
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Mar 2019
About this poem:
Just a story
? Sorry don't have one yet.
I’d like to be a nest
if you were a little bird.
I’d like to be a scarf
if you were a neck
and were cold.
If you were music,
I’d be an ear.
If you were water,
I’d be a glass.
If you were light,
I’d be an eye.
If you were a foot,
I’d be a sock.
If you were the sea,
I’d be a beach.
And if you were still the sea,
I’d be a fish,
and I’d swim in you.
And if you were the sea,
I’d be salt.
And if I were salt,
you’d be lettuce,
an avocado or
at least a fried egg.
And if you were a fried egg,
I’d be a piece of bread.
And if I were a piece of bread,
you’d be butter or jam.
If you were jam,
I’d be the peach in the jam.
If I were a peach,
you’d be a tree.
And if you were a tree,
I’d be your sap…
and I’d course through your arms like blood.
And if I were blood,
I’d live in your heart.
if you were a little bird.
I’d like to be a scarf
if you were a neck
and were cold.
If you were music,
I’d be an ear.
If you were water,
I’d be a glass.
If you were light,
I’d be an eye.
If you were a foot,
I’d be a sock.
If you were the sea,
I’d be a beach.
And if you were still the sea,
I’d be a fish,
and I’d swim in you.
And if you were the sea,
I’d be salt.
And if I were salt,
you’d be lettuce,
an avocado or
at least a fried egg.
And if you were a fried egg,
I’d be a piece of bread.
And if I were a piece of bread,
you’d be butter or jam.
If you were jam,
I’d be the peach in the jam.
If I were a peach,
you’d be a tree.
And if you were a tree,
I’d be your sap…
and I’d course through your arms like blood.
And if I were blood,
I’d live in your heart.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Apr 2019
Post CommentDownhill
Down down downhill
Spinning spinning tricycle wheels
Jumping houses, jumping trees
Brakes somewhere out of reach
Carried by breeze like a free flying witch
Down down down the hill
Spinning spinning spinning wheels
That felt like it lasted forever maybe...
A miracle happened I could not foresee
My father was there to grab hold of me
Spinning spinning tricycle wheels
Jumping houses, jumping trees
Brakes somewhere out of reach
Carried by breeze like a free flying witch
Down down down the hill
Spinning spinning spinning wheels
That felt like it lasted forever maybe...
A miracle happened I could not foresee
My father was there to grab hold of me
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jun 2019
About this poem:
Reflecting on my first terrifying and thrilling downhill ride
ladies
they say Disney world is the happiest place on earth, obviously they haven’t been in your arms.
a heart is not a plaything, a heart is not a toy, but if you want it broken, just give it to a boy.
God made mud, God made dirt, God made boys so girls could flirt.
guys good girls don’t lie, bad girls don’t cry, dumb girls need “air”, naughty girls need underwear, sweet girls aren’t mean, funny girls make a scene, perfect girls have all the class, mean girls will kick your a**, smart girls will excel, gossip girls will tell, popular girls get all the boys, little girls play with toys, normal girls are nothing new, so which one applies to you
a heart is not a plaything, a heart is not a toy, but if you want it broken, just give it to a boy.
God made mud, God made dirt, God made boys so girls could flirt.
guys good girls don’t lie, bad girls don’t cry, dumb girls need “air”, naughty girls need underwear, sweet girls aren’t mean, funny girls make a scene, perfect girls have all the class, mean girls will kick your a**, smart girls will excel, gossip girls will tell, popular girls get all the boys, little girls play with toys, normal girls are nothing new, so which one applies to you
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jun 2019
About this poem:
alongreality
sure right now, there are people all over the world who are just like you. They’re lonely. They’re missing somebody. They’re in love with someone they probably shouldn’t be in love with. They have secrets you wouldn’t believe. They wish, dream, hope, and they look out the window whenever they’re in the car or on a bus, or a train & they watch the people on the streets & wonder what they’ve been through. They wonder if there are people out there like the, They’re like you & you could tell them everything & they would understand. You’re never alone
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jun 2019
Post Commentguys
people say: find good people and leave the bad ones. but i say, find the good in people and ignore the bad in them. because no one is perfect
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jun 2019
About this poem:
true storybe kind to people
an old Cherokee told his grandson:
my son, there’s a battle between two wolves inside us all.
one is Evil. It’s anger, jealousy, greed, resentment, inferiority, lies and ego.
the other is Good. It’s joy, peace, love, hope, humility, kindness truth
the boy thought about it, and asked:
Grandfather, which wolf wins
the old man quietly replied the one you feed
my son, there’s a battle between two wolves inside us all.
one is Evil. It’s anger, jealousy, greed, resentment, inferiority, lies and ego.
the other is Good. It’s joy, peace, love, hope, humility, kindness truth
the boy thought about it, and asked:
Grandfather, which wolf wins
the old man quietly replied the one you feed
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jun 2019
About this poem:
true stort
online now!Not Tonight
Theres a shadow that falls in my life, across what is or can be, something too far for me to see, ,,,,, hmm, I really want to know, what is love? how does it grow?, hmm,, I can see, she went to bed,.,, sorrrrrrrweeee,,, heeeeeee, xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxnight love you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2022
Post CommentThe life cycle
A pure raw emotion
Shared a shabby shed
With a grumpy lad
And got fed up
With that
She looked for answer
In her quest
Whether she was happy
Or depressed
A funny thought
One day came by
Why not to fly?
And off she went
Into the ceiling -
And left a dent
The sea of boiling soup
Beneath
Was not to miss
She dived
Deep into the pot
And boiled and splashed…
Now fully cooked
Depressed she looked
And smelled like soup..
In her disturbed elated state
She opted to evaporate,
Precipitate,
And start anew..
Shared a shabby shed
With a grumpy lad
And got fed up
With that
She looked for answer
In her quest
Whether she was happy
Or depressed
A funny thought
One day came by
Why not to fly?
And off she went
Into the ceiling -
And left a dent
The sea of boiling soup
Beneath
Was not to miss
She dived
Deep into the pot
And boiled and splashed…
Now fully cooked
Depressed she looked
And smelled like soup..
In her disturbed elated state
She opted to evaporate,
Precipitate,
And start anew..
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2022
About this poem:
Inspired by cooking dahlIrony is hitting
Because they are elected, because they buy their seat
irony has been hitting them
harder than they thought, let'em, let'em
could be, irony does not like ironies
damn lorries
and when they say, 2nd is our god, 2nd shoots back
is malice like Alice
at least, Alice Cooper on the road...kick'em!
do not let them aim, hold it tight or be surprised
those moors kept Spain, and them some
no, not their way, the way the sway is, morons-a-la-may-day
come, 2nd, come, and make them bled.
irony has been hitting them
harder than they thought, let'em, let'em
could be, irony does not like ironies
damn lorries
and when they say, 2nd is our god, 2nd shoots back
is malice like Alice
at least, Alice Cooper on the road...kick'em!
do not let them aim, hold it tight or be surprised
those moors kept Spain, and them some
no, not their way, the way the sway is, morons-a-la-may-day
come, 2nd, come, and make them bled.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jun 2022
About this poem:
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