POEMS

Weird Poems – Poems about Weird

Weird-Bird

by Shel Silverstein

Birds are flyin’ south for winter.
Here’s the Weird-Bird headin’ north,
Wings a-flappin’, beak a-chatterin’,
Cold head bobbin’ back ‘n’ forth.
He says, ‘It’s not that I like ice
Or freezin’ winds and snowy ground.
It’s just sometimes it’s kind of nice
To be the only bird in town.’

 

Weird

by Luwi Habte

While people walks to the right
Weirdo runs to the left side

While people inters in
Weirdo gets out for nothing

While people get sleep well
Weirdo stays awaken and face the hell

While people dance and enjoy their time pretty cool
Weirdo gets sad alone in a dark hole

While people survive happily and safely
Weirdo wishes to die only

While people ends a meeting
Weirdo starts from the beginning

The amazing thing is incredibly
That weirdo is so lovely
And hell ignominiously
Because it is impetuously

Weird…lol

 

The Weird Song

by Ency Bearis

Across the room I heard like a song
Strange like a machine gun, as if a Rap song
Continuous rapping of blah, blah, blah, blah, blah
I did not realize it was my brother mother in law
Furious, wondering how to wear the thong

 

The Weird Lady

by Charles Kingsley

The swevens came up round Harold the Earl,
Like motes in the sunnes beam;
And over him stood the Weird Lady,
In her charmed castle over the sea,
Sang ‘Lie thou still and dream.’

‘Thy steed is dead in his stall, Earl Harold,
Since thou hast been with me;
The rust has eaten thy harness bright,
And the rats have eaten thy greyhound light,
That was so fair and free.’

Mary Mother she stooped from heaven;
She wakened Earl Harold out of his sweven,
To don his harness on;
And over the land and over the sea
He wended abroad to his own countrie,
A weary way to gon.

Oh but his beard was white with eld,
Oh but his hair was gray;
He stumbled on by stock and stone,
And as he journeyed he made his moan
Along that weary way.

Earl Harold came to his castle wall;
The gate was burnt with fire;
Roof and rafter were fallen down,
The folk were strangers all in the town,
And strangers all in the shire.

Earl Harold came to a house of nuns,
And he heard the dead-bell toll;
He saw the sexton stand by a grave;
‘Now Christ have mercy, who did us save,
Upon yon fair nun’s soul.’

The nuns they came from the convent gate
By one, by two, by three;
They sang for the soul of a lady bright
Who died for the love of a traitor knight:
It was his own lady.

He stayed the corpse beside the grave;
‘A sign, a sign!’ quod he.
‘Mary Mother who rulest heaven,
Send me a sign if I be forgiven
By the woman who so loved me.’

A white dove out of the coffin flew;
Earl Harold’s mouth it kist;
He fell on his face, wherever he stood;
And the white dove carried his soul to God
Or ever the bearers wist.

 

Weird Little Person

by Margaret Alice Second

A weird little person with a mission to be
extrovertly extravagant – oh, so that’s who
I am! I’m intrigued, I had always thought I
was supposed to be a self-pitying introvert

Yet you see me trying to be a recluse of fate
and divest me of my carefully constructed
illusions; such frank and open honesty, it
delights and amuses –

I always end up with goofballs, men of good
sense don’t waste time talking to me, either
I’m totally ugly or my incomprehensibly
icy stare puts them off –

I may resemble Miss Marple, or worse due
to my masculine self-esteem, Hercule Poirot
with walrus moustaches, I have none on my
face as yet – but what of tomorrow…

 

Source: Poemhunter

https://www.poemhunter.com/

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