Best Absurdities Poems
sporting a colorful chemise
a camera and a valise
temptations so easily tease
roaming as free as honeybees
tourists hear beckonings as pleas
and capture beauty with much ease
tiny things no bigger than peas
or vast expanse of deep blue seas
weeping willows in the breeze
ornate houses of bourgeoisies
candles lit to divinities
friendly playful bitty chickadees
lovable girl about to sneeze
a soldier's return from overseas
referees calling penalties
lovers creating memories
strange amazing intricacies
silly whimsical fantasies
many types of absurdities
two elephants on a trapeze
seven vine swinging chimpanzees
bears savoring delicacies
oddities among novelties
unavoidable catastrophes
moments of awe you want to freeze
as many of these as you please
photos are lovely memories
many worthy of galleries
each artist a fan of what he sees
Published in my 24-page photo/anthology book ~THE MIND'S CANVAS~ 2023
Published in PoetrySoup's 2020 Member's Anthology ~ PS: IT'S POETRY ~ 2020
AP: Honorable Mention 2022, Honorable Mention 2021
February 27, 2018 for FAVORITE RHYMING POEM EVER CONTEST sponsored by LAURA LOO - RANKED 2ND
January 1, 2018 for BEST RHYMING POEM OCT-DEC CONTEST sponsored by JOHN HAMILTON - RANKED 3RD
November 30, 2017 for MERAKI CONTEST sponsored by SILENT ONE - RANKED 1ST
When I’ve gone
to the place
where my fathers’
have gone before me
and the last tribute
has been paid to my memory,
may my singing words
crack the silence with clanging echoes.
May the clanging echoes
excite starving eyes
and taut wrinkled eardrums—
both to awareness—
guiding them
to actions of liberation
yet to come.
May clanging echoes
wake-up sleeping souls suffering
uncertainties of tyrannical rule,
slobbering from political absurdities,
drooling from mouths of misguided evil
diagnostic odysseys—peddling false hope
to precariously lost wanderers.
May my clanging echoes echo ringing
bells of freedom that can’t be unrung:
“Oh death where is thy sting?”
“Oh grave, where is thy victory?”
Poets will die;
but the ringing chords
of their words will live long lives:
Echoing clanging echoes…
Waterlilies brighten black
ripples, reeds, and rocks below.
An even flow, bane and blight
recedes to bare raven’s bones.
A grave of darkness blanches
In austere light on bloodless
banks, but blue eyes cannot flood
its once watery coffin.
Dew on the waterlilies
reflect these absurdities -
the woeful bones glistening
alone near floral beauty.
Written 5/23/20
N/A in
Genuine Englyns Contest
Books are resource for them who deplore
Idiocy, silliness, folly. Where absurdities encore
There books no place get and can’t decor
Them into ideal from idle I am cocksure.
Saraswati lives in them to downpour
Knowledge, Gen and Expertise’s store.
Foolish loath them, wiser lavish more.
Now changing form - pulp earlier at core
Now e-form in mobile showing its hoar.
Now or then, book is a book for sure –
Without we are incomplete. Oh Thor!
Burst on those idles and cloak wore
Of giant to teach leave their amour.
So friends, leave thy laziness at floor
And join me in my swelling score.
If slavery was a choice, as some have agreed, then what are we?
If watching your father and mother endure rape or murder was a choice,
Then why do we sit on idle hands, while Trump eradicates our posterity’s opportunities,
As if they were written in sand?
If not being able to read was a choice,
Then why do you go to the PlayStation in a rush
while your library card collects dust?
Even a Ward educates themselves,
Even the eunuch Greyjoy developed the courage to stand against evil.
In the midst of upheaval, one mustn’t look through a straw while planning the future.
The sagacious knows fighting must be eschewed when only death is in thy terms.
Allah heard their suffering, but sometimes the way out is through.
They didn’t endure out of docility or obsequiousness,
But out of discernment and sagacity.
The desolate doesn’t become prosperous by exclaiming tumultuous absurdities,
But by embodying opulent minds.
Go back to the mother, which is the way, and endure the storm,
While being metamorphic in form.
You see, my Kings and Queens,
The only choice they made was to give their posterity a fighting chance,
To gather strength while the usurpers wane and start to underestimate.
We must pick up the quill and write our own fates,
No more brooding or carping about what Donny Thrump is doing.
One man’s decisions determine another man’s life,
As much as a drought challenges the land.
Yet, life, like the Way, will always find a path to flourish,
Forevermore permeating even the harshest conditions.
We must stop talking about what great leaders and men should be,
And become Great Men and Assiduous Leaders.
We were the first great civilization and shall act as such.
Lead with grace,
Strike with prudence,
Read great books that enrich the mind,
Treat each other with unyielding reverence,
Because we each carry a piece of the divine.
I am that I am, and I am my brother's keeper.
It is difficult to get rid of the false self
A believable mask has taken years to develop
Such safety precautions demand extensive disguising
Dear i ask, why can't we all be living in the bare?
The conditioning begins at a young age
Everyone is trained to look good at every stage
Shame on you if you don't protect your private space
Outrage will result if someone is caught in public Nude.
Who makes this decision, and why does everyone follow orders?
Since we only bring our skin from the divine with us,
Being bashful, prideful, or ashamed is not a problem for me;
Instead, i admire animals for being so pure and unadulterated.
There are laws that punish what is considered lewd behaviour
Such behaviour is blasphemous in some religions
It's widely accepted that Adam and Eve were covered in leaves
It's deemed wickedness to uphold one's birthright.
There are absurdities in religious doctrine, which is truly unfortunate
Should individuals disregard the regulations they are made to dread?
Some female folk are told to cover even their head
Many are compelled to hide their body or off with their head.
I seek honesty,
Which would leave me vulnerable,
As is pretty obvious
Should this be the case, i persist in being true to myself.
I am not just a bare-Naked black man
I am a christian bisexual bare-Naked black man.
A MEANINGFUL DESIRE
Human nature is never satisfied
temporal fulfilments we evaluate and try
these things may serve their use
inexhaustible riches we so oft’ confuse
generous gifts are open-handedly bestowed
our appetites are whetted—seldom slowed
contentment remains an elusive pleasure
stubbornly we pursue all earthly treasure
our fun-filled ,self-styled life—insane
wearily penetrating absurdities of life—inane
negating souls try unearth significance –require
eternal cravings provide--solitary meaningful desire
Once the dream was to make America the shining light of the world
a caring and compassionate country with opportunities for all
but after questioning the veracity of the election in America by the sham pretender since then this nation has endured the corrupt, the ugly, the distrusted who have put a damp on long held dreams of millions.
A neophyte failed businessman/politician with a narcissistic bent
of a five year old, looking for a king's crown, his fatuous transmutation has proven to be the culprit blocking his own way but denial is months away but
this dream may be reality in the making.
We who understand the damage done know are the ones
who must remove the stench he has created and the pain he inflicted
while hell bent trying to annihilate our Democratic Republic and his intent on
changing justice in America to save himself.
American's Constitution and the Bill of Rights are the hope of the world
but this administration peddles lies for control but honesty chokes them,
integrity strangles their foundations and freedoms they profess to value.
Their insidious mindset will not prevail and definitely will be challenged.
We are being devoured by manipulative small minds; their indifference,
bigotry and the all-mighty, all-consuming, deceptive profits seems to be what we are becoming. I can't believe we have been overcome with greed
and what it represents, but are we really, at heart, really that?
Will Democracy, Truth, Justice continue to be our guide, our conscience?
Will American integrity survive the current onslaught of verbal inanities?
America was great before this charlatan came unto the scene
misleading his followers and instilling his divisive absurdities.
America was great long before this pretender stepped on these shores.
It will continue to be great even greater, but these last few years he has fed lies of con to his followers derailing that trajectory of greatness
yet there are those who will follow this false Messiah's words of hatred.
White supremacists, bigots, genocidal maniacs with the mistaken idea
that this country is for them to take have a shocker awaiting them,
America will never be ruled solely by punk-pink-orange colored wannabe's
hellbent on destroying indigenous peoples of our world and our country.
What is your job?
Making me laugh
Yes!
It is ordained
You are to make another person happy
What? You say you can't make another person happy?
Are you dead?
If you are alive, you can
God puts in our heart
The funnies, the sense of style, timing, absurdities, spontaneity
Everything you need is at your fingertips - is it your heart tip?
Why do you think God gives you a sense of humor for?
To laugh at yourself?
No my friend - to laugh at me for making you laugh
Ahh - if you want to laugh at yourself
That is cool too
But don't let me see it
Because I will laugh at you
Anyway, cool?
Now you can start
I am waiting
Oh you are too late
I'm already happy
Because you are
But you can do something else for me
- Ahh let me see
You want a long list or a short list? lol
Spare me ill-considered thoughts
and tales of the enlightened sage
whose very basis of belief
arose in palpable assemblage
one late summer evening
while listening to his ringing ears,
as he lay soaking naked in a tub.
And holy writ of nether world—
its commands and promises
now in language thrice removed—
misunderstood when first uttered
in scarce remembered ancient tongue,
yet presumptive literal masters
hasten to opine.
Absurdities compound,
interstices of mind—
vacuformed and stolid—
deny calm reason’s abstract,
and flee truth’s sanctum,
dogma in their fond embrace,
awash in its decrepitude.
Humanity thus
in thrall of Mesmer’s haunt
sustains a tortured cadence
of greed, dishonesty and graft,
which now in tawdry bloat ascends,
as if arms of gods on the empyrean sphere
would open wide to greet.
Consider well and ponder such severely,
who would transcend the veil,
for wisdom gained and love prolonged
will surely ease the transit.
And those who favored having over being?
Their cherished worth is fled.
Their hubris now dismissed.
Old Farmer’s Almanac -
Goes on sale 9/8/16
Sitting, witch like,
around a cast iron stove
wood crackling
as they confer…
Old Farmers
digging through
the soil of time
gathering the harvest
of experience
stirring the simmering
success of the years.
Codifying the coincidences
highlighting the absurdities
poking fun at the pundits
trusting the thickness
of the squirrels tale
to estimate the intent
of the coming winter.
Prognosticators
sifting the ashes
of long cold fires,
seers seeking wisdom
within the knowledge
of their touch,
within the history
of their hands,
filtered through
their simple trust
one in another
offering guidance,
breadcrumbs
to be followed
a passion preserved
a love passed on.
John G. Lawless
9/5/2015
He thinks to prevail the existence as haze over
And makes his own beau geste
A spirit of ingenuity revived peerlessly
And makes the reality to indite a blue story
That appears to be enjoyable.
This exemption from reality
Just like he masters his own way
Others may stare at his absurdities
But he propels his own destiny.
Endured by his shadow
He gives a mere pause to think
Past, carved in stone and future, an aleatory
And acquaints with the presence
That appears a moment of exuberance.
This liberty from misery
Just like he won every asperity
Others may oppugn at his oddity
But he aspires his own momentary.
He makes a contrast between life and death
Yet he keep smiling on his grief
Beloved left him, and he is into his reveries
And forgather by more beautiful chicks
That gives a pleasure of masculinity.
This relief from theological virtue of love
Just like he exposed his vanity
His beloved may cackle at his juvenility
But he is in love with blithe insanity.
The defies the world of immorality
With his mindless nemeses
Masses at disputes, he lingered by his silence
And minded like a dummy
That baffled others busy time.
This escape from affrays
Just like a dog kicked away
People may cerebrate at his applesauce
He still got word, who cares!
near cultural shock
fall rain brings thunder...lightning?
San Francisco weird
Brian Johnston
November 9, 2015
Poet's Note:
In the Bay Area rain itself is unusual, but thunder and lightning are very rare here. On the other hand, gay people, strange political ideas (to you), super-rich people, and fashion absurdities are normal to us. Go figure! Ha!
I screamed Injustice
I screamed absurdities -
life goes on
A singular act of splendor-producing
makeup application at the tip of a brush
can awaken worlds that confound the imagination
and certainly confound all religious absurdities,
psychologies, and philosophies.
I choose a life that continuously confounds the absolute--
the absolute right
the absolute faith
the absolute belief
the absolute idea
the absolute definition--
by way of joy--
everyday, everywhere.
It's an absolute must!