Methinks, who wanders after pint size toy
To which Aristocrats bow in humbleness?
Afore the little toy went to dance with the rough,
Off the tee in bounces, unto the way unfair,
Wrong way, or off the fair fairway,
Thought hazard but out of bound!
Grudgingly he bowed for a retake,
Now to the little toy the mighty was humbled.
Pint size, mint size, bright white,
Toys in colour bundles.
Fly it goes in kiss with the sky
Little toy, little joy laced in greedy-burden.
Amidst the Aristos stood the landlord, well-trodden,
Yes, the Capo whose toy ran him out of bound,
Silly toy, bad troy, “O, not my day!” He mused.
His baroness hummed, bumped her bum in bummer,
Pitiable they were before the bunker.
“Handicap will tell.” She said in laughter.
But the Aristos were called handicaps too,
Laughed I was at these “Handicaps”
As they missed the little hole in taps.
Hopped the Aristo to win the hole;
Warped the baroness in prayer he missed the hole,
The little hole, pint size toy.
With smiles, his toy, she glanced,
The Aristo did miss the hole.
I laughed at the people of holes.
Hmm! Life with Golfers and little holes.
Categories:
baroness, appreciation, extended metaphor, golf,
Form: Dramatic Verse
The baby cried, but the wailing was a soothing
Jazz melody in E flat, a sound associated with
that baby for thirty-five years. A Bebopper,
a jazzer, a revolutionary, a Bird! He could
make you fly like no one else. But the scars,
the scars he received while crashing after flying
too high, higher than the birds should ever go.
Every breath was a sigh, a craving for what he
could be, if only…
The baby cried, this time the Bird flew without
any help, for that baby was his own. This time
the baby crashed for him, her life instead of
his, and his life depleted with every step
after that fateful day.
The baby cried, for a man with the Baroness.
For a man who hated hospitals and wouldn’t go.
For a man who finally played one last note
of good bye. For a man whose dying rocked the
masses, and the masses not believing a word. The baby
cried for the Bird, the legend, the man,
the Bebop sound, rolled into one.
Categories:
baroness, black african american, music,
Form: Free verse
Does a banished beacon beckon?
But of course all beacons beckon
But only briefly if not brightly
Though never as boldly as the baritone
Before balancing bagpipes blowing ballads
But it’s got backbone and backfires
Unlike the babbling bellow of a baboon
Baffling unbelievably because it’s so beautiful
Below bitter backlash in its blackened background
It behooves that a backtalking boyband backstage
Betwixt a balmy bamboozled ballet bandstand
Would betray benign bountiful bequests
Between a bashful baroness’ baptism by barnacle
And a bastardly barrage of barroom banter
But yes all in all the banished beacon does beckon
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on July 1, 2019 for CONTEST NO 620 WITH ALLITERATION STYLE THEREIN sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - RANKED 2ND
Originally posted on April 27, 2019
Categories:
baroness, fantasy, humorous, nonsense, sound,
Form: Alliteration
The Lady-in-Waiting's Tale
There's nothing matters, girl, beyond The Ring!
Are you betrothed yet? Me, I'm six months in.
Hussars are handsome. Want to know the truth?
A tale of passion, sex, idealistic youth
and parents crippled by stiff protocol.
The girl? I hardly dealt with her at all,
some minor baroness (Hungarian blood).
At Mayerling, in the Vienna Woods
is where they did it. Yes, I've seen them dance
together. The mazurka! One brief glance
that flits between two lovers tells the world.
His wife was one thing - but he loved that girl!
The night before, there was an argument
between him and the Emperor. He spent
his final night with her at Mayerling.
Oh, how romantic! Since their heady fling
was doomed - they couldn't be together now,
and wouldn't be apart - they took a vow
to end their lives. Poor things. Look over there.
That captain. Is he looking, girl? Don't stare!
Categories:
baroness, history,
Form: Couplet
The land was barren of hope and desire
and she was it's queen tonight...
The glowing beauty she once shared with her kingdom
covered beneath the rubble
The land demanded of her to conceive and revive
but she was too far gone
Barren not of the womb but of desire
to subject new life to this fire
The fire that raged and consumed
and stripped away their glory
The fire that would always burn
as long as the world kept turning
I am, she cried, simply what I am…
Broken, Bruised, and Dyeing
There’s no use to conceive a life
in a mind that’s always crying
I gave my all, I paid my dues
and never was it enough
So I remain a Baroness and always will I be…
The Baroness in a Barren land
to a kingdom that would never be.
Categories:
baroness, deep, metaphor, sad, solitude,
Form: Free verse
Married to Nobility
The word sits so easily on your tongue
like it had no more meaning than a Gallic shrug
he came from the sea waded ashore you can say
the only survivor of innocence.
Barefoot in the broken glass of spoken untruth so much blood,
they had thought I was one of
them with claws bringing riches how much time
spent and only to find a gardener.
Lonely women everywhere middle-aged craved sex,
something had to be done, the salvation come
one of my forefathers had been a baron had three children
I disliked them all and people said I was a baron too.
The baroness died leaving the dilapidated castle to me.
How they hate seeing me eat dinner at a café every day.
I have spoken to Hercules Poirot but he can do nothing
before someone is murdered
Categories:
baroness, anniversary, anti bullying, anxiety,
Form: Bio
One day thou wilt not be standing in my way when I shall,
Seize the moment to say how much I love thee;
Life stretchest hope to the sincere and honest not to a rascal,
Whose only hope in saving his character is to flee.
Mine honourable soul doth asketh thy public acceptance for,
Secluded feelings can never forge a noble troth;
Bring forth in thy mind the sweet alluring memories of lore,
Keep my unequalled agape, shun what is not worth.
Come hither my twinkling future and mine adored baroness,
Good tidings address those whose hearts are ablaze;
Their nights a prolonged play of sumptuosity and madness,
Performing the art of love in its most luxurious ways.
Hark men and women of all time and place,
Love prevails if we didst take it as a grace.
© Guru Jad 2013
Categories:
baroness, love, peace, hope, love,
Form: Sonnet
Auspicious August was a king of old,
who used aspersion as if it were gold.
Baron Aseptic, he declared: filthy,
and his best virtue, his asperity.
The Baroness called the king audacious,
her husband was very assiduous.
“He austerely cleansed all crime from his land,
King August could not claim something so grand.”
Though true, most ascribe her words to her end.
August assailed the Baron to defend
Pride and Respect. The Baron was astute,
killed his wife to appease the royal brute.
His atonement acceptable, the king
made him Groom in the princess’s wedding.
Categories:
baroness, daughter, education, family, father,
Form: Sonnet
I slept in waking, walked no milestones
Until I came upon a shore
A nymph shaking bottled bones
She sung of Aphrodite's lore
For hallowed war, for seductive stroke
I piloted a well gunned ride
They revered me for each enemy broke
Until I took to the clouds to hide
In flames I fell from above
Cut down by a red baroness
I crashed into the field of love
For my want to 'fess, her ill caress
I stumbled through the thistle row
And bedded beneath a yew
I ate the fruit that danger sows
Though I arose so clean and new
At the shore I saw a boatman
Who told me the nymph had died
He beckoned me to cross the ocean
I retreated to find if he had lied
In wind swept sand I found her bottle
With bones and note inside
By which now it made no rattle
But read "This beauty's song saw love denied"
Categories:
baroness, death, girlfriend-boyfriend, me, me,
Form: Romanticism
There was a dark Uisge from Loch Ness
who fancied a tasty Baroness,
he lured her astride
with the on coming tide
and all that was found was her dress.
Categories:
baroness, adventure, animals, fantasy, parody
Form: Limerick