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When your gaze found mine #lovepoem #surrealpoem #poetrydaily

When your gaze found mine, the whole world swayed, As if the earth had missed a hidden beat; The sunlight suddenly grew unafraid, Then melted like warm gold around my feet. I tried to look away, but something stayed, A trembling little universe in you; My eyes became two doors I could not close, And every secret seemed to wander through. I felt my cheeks turn roses in the rain, A sudden fire underneath my skin; The stars began to whisper my sweet shame, While little suns kept blooming from within. Your eyes were not just eyes, they were a place, A strange blue room where gravity was gone; I wandered through the silence of your gaze And somehow lost the person I was on. My heartbeat stumbled, then forgot its name, It ran barefoot through corridors of light; I blushed as though the moon had called me beautiful, Then hid my face from heaven's watching sight. The trees leaned closer, jealous of the view, The flowers opened wider just to see; Even the wind became unusually shy, As thoug...
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The Spectacularly Unsupervised Genius #poem-a-day #poetry #freeverse #funnypoem

There once was a genius renowned,
For thoughts that were tightly wound,
He could map every star,
Name planets afar,
Yet tripped on completely flat ground.

He’d lecture on time with a grin,
Explain where the universe’s been,
With charts so precise
They’d make ice feel like spice.
Then forget what room he was in.

His lab was a marvel of mess,
Organized chaos at best,
With wires and notes,
Half-written quotes,
And a sandwich mid-experiment test.

“Behold!” he would proudly declare,
Adjusting his lab-coated flair,
“This device that I’ve made
Will not… well, it may...
But mostly it shouldn’t catch fire there.”

He’d flip a switch labeled “DO NOT,”
Then say, “Let us see what we’ve got,”
A rumble, a flash,
A scientifically loud crash.
“Ah,” he’d say, “that was planned, oddly not.”

A toaster once gained self-awareness,
And spoke with alarming self-fairness,
“Your logic is weak,
Your wiring is bleak.”
It said with mechanical rareness.

He nodded. “Fascinating tone.”
Then tried to improve it alone.
It ejected his bread,
Then loudly it said,
“I refuse to be used for your scone.”

He built a machine for “efficiency,”
Which mostly produced inconsistency,
It sorted his files,
Then laughed for a while...
A breakthrough in… mild hostility.

His colleagues would watch from afar,
And whisper, “He’s gone a bit far,”
Yet still they would stay,
(At a safe distance, okay)
In case he discovered a star.

One day, he declared with delight,
“I’ve finally gotten it right!”
The room gave a shake,
The floor shook...
“Or at least… approximately right.”

The ceiling said goodbye that day,
A chair made a bold getaway,
The machine sang a song,
Entirely too long...
About bread in a philosophical way.

Yet still, through the sparks and the smoke,
He stood there and thoughtfully spoke,
“Each failure, you see,
Is progress to me...
Though admittedly, some are a joke.”

He paused, then adjusted his stance,
“I simply refine and enhance,
Ignore what explodes,
Rewrite the codes...
And try not to blow up my pants.”

So here is the genius so grand,
With brilliance quite close at hand,
Who proves beyond doubt,
Without figuring out,
That maybe… just maybe…

He should not be left in command.


© 2026 Gloria Penelope

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