Befitting Poems | Examples

Bottomless bottles of bile, in my wake

In my wake, if i were to awaken,
O' wakeful wonder to wrench mine withered eyes 
Aware'f the withering summer haze
Out in my bright eyed future, out in my cross toe'd path
Pompous poppies t'prop mine withering body
Lest f'saken soil shall chance this chance and enwrap thy very soul
Whole, wholly in unholy disrepair 
Where thy feet ne'er make a pair

In my wake, where bottomless bile surely shalln't sate,
Grace be with grace whereth fate form'd nigh near'r thy hate
voracious, inherent, timbered'n barrels 
Embedded beneath thy bedded tomb t'ferment 
Fraught feminal petticoats bed thy bones'n skin, t'sit within
Barrelled quarrels quashed'n quaint fricatives,
T'lace these afaced wicked motives.
Foot befitting feet b'fore foolish faces reverberate foolish vows
F'petty petticoats liven' lieu'f laced love.

In my latent wake, 
Tend t'the petty posies 
T'prop mine body 
Towards th'lascerating ladle'f love,
And into th'deepening dish'f self-hate.

24//8//25

Zealotry

   Zealotry, befitting Infidelity

     ~ when battling Tyranny

Pain Breeds Beauty

Speak your melodies
and I'll dream of harmonies
that will someday be befitting of your artistry 

Similarly

Voice your euphony
and I'll dream of poetry
that will someday be worthy
of your flattery, 
and lure you into rhapsody -
pure ecstasy with each word
that breathes between the pages
from beneath those eyes 
that never cease to critique,
and a breath that reeks of deceit
and deserted dreams that I still cling to

A Set Of B

Bystanders of waves,
plethora of marine life;
Awe inspiring breach.

Bandeleros break
the grip of society;
Culture’s climate shifts.

Brackish voices sing
the blues inside the bayou;
Salty metaphors.

Background stars still shine
although they’re never in front;
Juxtaposition.

Back it up baby,
better give it all you got;
Befitting a boss.

Tumor

The Tumor

Last night, I watched a podcast 
the man with the highest measured IQ
and I was pleasantly surprised
He looked and acted like a sane bloke
his views were an echo in my mind
best of all, he was like me, working-class
but had read the classics 
his laughter was infectious
 two hours well spent 
His idea of God was how I think of God
there is good and evil in the world by
those who do not believe in the law of
nature and think they can ignore what
is fundamentally true
I woke up early following the thoughts
of the man with a high IQ and enjoying 
my solitude, when  the workers began
their day; those who are employed in
offices start their day at nine. nicely
dressed and in warm rooms
I had to see a cancer specialist at ten
Yes, I have a tumor on my thigh, and it
needs to be operated on
I accepted this news with calmness
befitting my state of mind, it is not
the first time a tumor has appeared
and dealt with through surgery
I liked the specialist and my doctor
no sentimentality, only facts, that´s
the way I like to live

CROWN FOR YOUR THRONE

Your wisdom causes their wiseness to drown,
Intelligence stands on your head as a befitting crown,
Your smartness wears your enemies endless frowns,
Your greatness is now what is the talk of the entire town.

More handsome faces than yours exist only on papers as clowns,
Your smiles always make your face serene like a pretty lawn,
Your kindness is what many wears as their survival gowns,
Your goodness is unique there's no way anyone can get a clone.

The secrets of your success is beyond flying their drones,
God has priotized you for great things right from his throne,
Sadness will never land in your home no matter how it is thrown,
Enemies have given up on your chase 'cos they know you're favour prone.

You strive on his path so as to be counted worthy when the trumpet is blown,
God speaks wonders into your life as if it is a loud voice into your phone,
His love for you he daily expresses using a gentle tone,
His assurance to you is that, to a burning lake of fire all your sins have been thrown.

Camelia - Rabindranath Tagore

Camelia - Rabindranath Tagore

Kamala was her name.
I saw her name written on her journal 
She was traveling on a tram, with her sibling along, toward the path leading to the college.
I was a back bencher there. 
From one side, of her face, the smile line is visible
And the unbridled hair, touching softly her neck underneath the braid 
With the book and journal in her lap 
I missed the designated stoppage where I was supposed to stop.

Now, I have a stricter time, allotted for a walk outside
That calculation is not quite a musing with my workspace
Almost befitting with their leaving time, whence it is time.
Often we meet
I ponder in silence, regardless if there is any relation or not
She is my co-traveler.
A face with innocent intelligence
Was evident there, fulbright.
The young forehead had untied haid rushed to upside
The bright eyes had a gaze, unhesitant 
It comes to my mind, why there is not any crisis, ensuing
Saving civilization from, to make this life glorious, charismatic, flying.

All about depression

Depression is a shape poem 
A difficult one in times of contemplation 
A shape that gets you, almost in nothingness 
Whispers darkness in the valley of your chest. 
Where the minaret stood in the bed of the eternity 
Till the very last minute, that along the way, divinity sent 
Modernization knew demolishing much too well 
and much too vivid in the end, to stress what it meant. 
Oozing secretion dampens in cold and clutters on and on... 
And we call it the pseudo-pen 
That mentors to shift the shape 
Straight path should be the straightest one, to be frank, 
My utterance calms me there 
As it does mostly, unconditionally enough 
And I knew along the way, that 
God is enough for any befitting pay stubs 
To carve with a knife on any life, whatsoever. 
Man is mortal.

Golden Gust Glow

Where bold breezes blow a wondrous world awakes,
they swaddle silken scenes that surround so many,
fresh air is an awesome advantageous aspect all told,
it inspires instantly without waver whatsoever,
empowered  energetic edge to species human,
and amazing animals as one might often observe,
inhale invigorating images imbued that tantalise the rapt rambler,
magic meadow mindfulness gets a great gee up,
from  well-found winds which waft,
woo and weave surreal semblance sumptuous,
when poets pause perhaps divine delightful dizains descend,
iridescence infinite inkling  as angel aura  atmospheres alights,
gust of golden genesis glad guest most warmly welcome,
shell  strewn sea shore surface swept,
kaleidoscopic knots kindle conduits creative channel,
bard on boundless beach befitting  benefit,
oodles of ornate overarch saline squall sequesters,
petrichor’s proboscis pleasure pick up post downpour,
quixotic quintessential quest quenched by fabulous fairytale flurry,
daylight dazzle’s deft dip driven by draught

Songs of Nature COS No 2: ABBA

Divided droplets formed handheld mirth tames,
for they beheld Earth in their gentle fall,
like stars drop the night, all is heavens call,
know their named true, they'll climb make good their claims.
American Beauty Rose, blossoms art
exhaustive, and as there's none to question
thou hast finds that clear a room's impression,
thus, to heaven astir, shines through your heart.
Lily, my dearest, how befitting of
names of one who vigils cemeteries.
Thy reach of yourselves from commentaries,
'tis naught ours but be thine, think of thee, my love.
Thy tendril's secrets aire are more sublime
Forget-me-not thy scent hast taste of time.

The Deceased Man

The false apparatuses are presented on the tiny stage,
The surgeons want to shape up your archaic days.
The larger your poisons are,
The more lethal is their care.

You only care for the austere suggestions,
I want to undergo your sweeping portions.
I want to shake your hand in between infinity,
You want to pull me through this lumbering calamity.

I am another deceased man in this war,
Can you recall the black October?
There is so much rapture in the grave,
You only yearn to be brave.

You are now in a favoured hell,
I want to conjure you back and well.
I want to bring back my old salvation,
Where you were the most cataclysmic passion.

I beg you to wait for me in the uninhabited cave,
I will converge with you soon where you are already paved.
You are situated in your befitting place,
There is awaiting you the perpetual grace.

Yes, No, Or Wait

Yes, No, Or Wait
Miracle Man
September 15, 2023

Sometimes I’ve benefited from not getting,
things that I've asked God for in daily prayer.
I never know, if to me they're befitting,
but God always knows things when I’m unaware.

Sometimes, silence is the only thing I hear,
but prayer isn’t to be my long want list.
Often it’s a way of conquering some fear,
or for temptations God has helped me resist.



“Prayer is less about changing the world,
than it is about changing ourselves.”
David J. Wolpe

Zebra

Zebras 
are bestowed
Black-n-white 
striped coats 
by Nature
to help them
confuse predators 
keep horse flies away 
But, it also makes them
more vulnerable
most recognisable 
mammal even
from long distance !

Humans 
are not bestowed
with unique identity 
which can stand out 
Humans have to earn
their own Stripes of
Character, Values, 
Integrity, Sincerity
to be recognisable 
irrespective of distance

Humans 
have picked up idea 
of Zebra Crossing 
from dazzling distinctive
stripes of Zebra 
to create safe 
crossing of roads
and avert accidents

Humans 
have not given 
anything befitting
to Zebras in return
Humans have 
put them in zoo
hunted them down
for exotic trophies ! 

Height of Irony 
Zebra, wild animal 
gives life saving idea
Human, tame animal
acts worst than animal 
confines, kills Zebras
_____________________________
© Dr Hitendra Mehta, India ????

The Language of Poetry

Language is a power
That can be used in many ways.
In a poem, subject matter is not the issue;
Depth of imagination
And its articulation into language is,
And the imagination is free
To follow whatever subject matter
It finds compelling.
Poetry functions as a way to remember,
But a poet must realize and understand
The difference between memory and nostalgia
And find and use language
That is most befitting for either situation.

A Fairy Tale of Romance - Story Poem

Once upon a dreamy fairy tale night
Two lover's hearts went soaring off in flight
The setting a magical seaside scene
Enchanting beauty befitting a queen.

Fairies gathered to gaze from on a star
For romance delighted their tiny hearts
So enthralling was this mystical sight
They sprinkled their fairy dust o'er the night.

Sequin-silver jewels enhanced night sky
Twinkling on the sea as waves rippled by
Soft golden sand cushioned the lovers feet
As they strolled along the crescent shaped beach.

Only sound was the opera of sea
A soothing oceanic melody
The summer breeze caressed their sun kissed skin
Just as their rendezvous was to begin.

He took her in his arms and held her tight
Whispered "darling you look lovely tonight"
In a tender moment of bliss they kissed
Pledging their love would stay a lifelong tryst.

They danced merrily in splendour of sea
For today they joined in matrimony.

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