Best Acquiescent Poems


The Barred Spiral

Tilted nipple, lend
Your acquiescent ballast
To rotate earths breast

Referring to the “Milky Way”
_____________________
*Inspired by Raul Moreno's  
Nature's Best Contest

Mother's Giving Nature

Mother’s Giving Nature

At the dawning of the day
Layered greens flashed through gold
The folds in Mother’s skirts 
Every creature does behold
Her mass sparkling blue 
Above as below mountains
Frilled in ferny lace or capped white 
As snow.

No other quite so acquiescent -
To us her children she gives purely with love
Each tiny detail of nature hers to present
Bountiful gifts she bestows upon us daily			
Not least seven seas and stars up above.

When night falls
Evening attire our Mother does wear
Shimmering crown to ankle
In moon lit despair
Fear not Mother dear for your children do bear
The darkening skies and nip to the air
Lost in layers of comfort and night
Grateful to be held in your wondrous might

Premium Member The World At Peace

Soft skies of blue and ivory
Circling the planet of light and ebony

Colored eyes enthralled by the cold of the night
Waving lightning mantled by fright

Winds embracing acquiescent bodies so bleak
Unshielded pillars of the strong, not weak

Grounds bracing the faithful with might
Bounds of serenity awaits so light

From His numen all wonders come in piece
Bodies and souls live and die with peace!


Premium Member Shadow's Passion

Shadow’s Passion
            by Odin Roark

A child’s imagination holds light’s oft guised presence in wonder,
As adult recklessly consume its flame of spirit and heart.
Left behind are ashes of once conscious pursuits
Now reduced to icy coals of ignorance
Once the far off enemy of reason.

However…

Our innately wired candles
Desperately protect the threatened glow,
While ravenous hunger continues insatiate,
Stretching, invading, smothering
Life’s illuminative entitlement and privilege.

As the nescient pandemic rages
Nature’s glimmer fights back,
Casting ever faithful shadows at first,
Preparing for revealment,
Inviting children with dreams to enjoin as companion and buddy
While unsullied conscience finds continuance
And its rightful chance.

Fortunately…

Enough will discover light’s natural purpose
Its perseverance in gradually presenting epiphany’s overhead moment
When the undeniable becomes a singular reality,
When shadow’s invisible passion is embraced,
Even as adulthood’s arrival often threatens imagination
Into an acquiescent and shadowless landscape.
© Odin Roark  Create an image from this poem.

Vanished Egos

The clouds pass silently above
On their way to infinity;
Sojourners drifting in the sky;
Compliantly acquiescent
to whims of dominating winds.
Our paths to perpetuity
are like those hovering above:
Short time stays in this dimension
crammed with egregious egotism;
Marvel at insignificance
as though it were significant.
Our egos pass, notwithstanding,
into amnesic nothingness.

Premium Member Vanished Like Mist





                                               Vanished Like Mist


Now I wonder, ponder, persuade the mind to wander in an abyss of what may be

Plowed and clawed then probed to find a reason for frenetic rumblings within me

As time passed unabated, skin hides pain beneath waves of what these eyes see

The heart trembled: is myopia or enmity reason why I have not found Amy Lee?


Love is not a game man coerces into submission then drags its spirit underwater

Auguring, kneeling, begging will not make it acquiescent to what one may prefer

Precious memories evoked by the hungry heart impalpably depart and disappear

What remains are remnants, reminders of the haunting past...that I had lost her








06/17/2023
Vision of the Seas
Cruising towards Hamilton, Bermuda


Personal Demon

Prowling the darkest terrain of my mind,
He hunts for an aperture to govern me.
He wants only to cause turmoil and suffering,
My own personal Demon...

His talons sink in deeper,
Forewarning that he does not wait.
My hands begin to judder, 
Uncertain who will reign.
His voice is stern yet charming,
His dominance veiled with words.
He seeks for my succumbing,
To whims of pain and hurt.
Breaths are now restricting... 
The twinge begins to surge,
My Demon hears my pleading
And longs to make it worse.
My legs are now convulsing,
The tears, they streak my cheeks.
My demon coils with passion,
And falls down to his feet.
The swell of his emotion,
Begins to make him ache.
Longing for that moment,
To try and take my place.
While he’s lying joyous,
Acquiescent to his fate,
I propel my mental barrier,
And lock it into place.  
His reply is but a whisper,
Now locked behind the gate.
He’s merely waiting patiently,
To try again some day…

Familial Shadows

Dullness settles sharply, without warning;
The words are gone, as if they'd never been.
There is but acquiescent pain at the loss.
It is left now to wait
For the familial shadows to pass.
© Deb Radke  Create an image from this poem.

Chimera World-'Midnight Moon'

Midnight Moon

You are the acquiescent angel of my humble heart
A megalithic mosaic gladiolus garden of amalgamate art
Oh midnight moon you illuminate my glittering gaze
Thru clustered clouds and within the Minotaur maze
My gregarious guardian of heaven, of thee I praise.



02.05.2017
Chimera World...Contest
Sponsored by... Nayda Ivette Negron 


1 original poem that uses the following words:  mosaic, maze, moon, guardian, garden, angel, heaven, heart, midnight and clouds. Any form is acceptable.

The Quest

None keeps its inventory
But it creeps into a story
A story of a modern society
Which is plural in nature;
Partly of a rural nurture
Partly of an urban stature
Yet must remain together
Lest it falls a part 
For unity is strength. 

For  peace.

To join these pieces to each other
That requires acuteness of thought,
That demands leaders of acuity, 
Who are too acquiescent to it,
And well acquainted with it.
As it demands political acumen
That defines the acme of democracy.
 Not autocracy,
Detests acidulous rulers,
Who develop quirks
To become acquisitive personalities.

Egocentric.

Raising their hands to quell the feelings
Ever in a querulous tone of voice
Ending up in quibbles
Both with the minorities,
And the majorities,
And sparing not the authorities.
To suck up to them.

To come up with funny quips
As quislings.
That all and sundry
Are left in a quandary; 
Since to them
Neither a banana
Nor an orange
Or any other fruit
Can quench its thirst
Without a qualm about their stand.

And virtually nothing comes on a silver platter;
Always there is a price to pay later.
And not their dreams to shatter
Even though they dwell in the gutter.

But indeed a quid pro quo of a kind 
That needs a lot of qusto to wind 
And seems as distant as a pulsar
Whose drive you can’t quash 
Whose desire you must succum
Whose desire is succint
To its acolytes.
Acquitted splendidly in its path
Without acrimony,
Without mean acrobatics.

Sociocentric.

Both full of sympathy,
And empathy,
And the acceptance,
And the appreciation
Of the uniqueness,
Of the diversity,
Of the peoples and cultures,
Nurtured by nature
For this is the real conquest of the quest.

Premium Member Violent Prayers

I have cried those violent prayers
hurled them, venom filled, cursing
all the powers that be - but aren’t.
Seething in the roiling pit of rage
alone amid the nothingness of all,
yet still felt the presence of a
something, a texture, a tenuous
touch of windblown curtain brush
against my clenched and hateful
fists.  I pounded mercilessly on the
sands of doubt’s mirage, laid siege
the bastions of the liars, fled in
fear of a power’s lack of power.
A strength now shown so weak,
a vision’s searing heat laid cold,
an emptiness so full it led to
barren desolation, blank and
blackened dreams.  I wept.
Not for me but for he who was
sacrificed so that I could become
me, for the child denied his chance
to live free of me, my hate, my rage,
my past, my pain.  And so my prayers
are violent and loud in an effort to
awaken a deaf and distant God.
My prayers do not beseech forgiveness,
nor toss bouquets of unwarranted praise
to acquiescent arrogance.  I pray not
for others who are capable of praying
for themselves.  I pray as violently as
the wind blows, as heatedly as the
desert sun, as proudly as the leaves
of Fall, as meekly as the buds of
Spring, as coldly as the glacial gales.
I pray with the passion of the seasons,
the faith of a bumblebee’s pollination,
the hope of the sightless mole digging,
the love of the shrieking Eagle’s devotion
to the air currents.  I pray as a Lark
who sing in empty canyons hearing
only the reverberation of his song.
I pray – for praying is the song of life -
and life - its voice.

John G. Lawless
9/3/2014

for Regina Riddle - Prayer poetry contest

Glory Be

http://www.poetrysoup.com/poetry_contests/member_contest_details.aspx?ContestID=6290

Glory Be

So long live the acquiescent queen
Even if she should have a ruptured spleen
And down to her end up having to bow
But first someway I will have to learn how.

Now would I really have thoughtfully lied
If I said she forgot to shave the other side
Not only put best side but also foot forward
People came to see her in a big horde.

I recently returned from a regalia
Which was all full of so much nostalgia
Should see all those coming in a cavalcade
Waiting to present queen with an accolade.

With her I will always be deeply impressed
Was even properly dressed when laid to rest
In home of British and their high society
No wonder they always say glory be to thee.

James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran and Poet
Now to figure out how to enter my poem in the
cute contest.
© James Horn  Create an image from this poem.

In the Autumn of My Years


Memories linger melancholy
as I approach the bridge 
to the Gardens de Sol.

                                              
A picture forms in my weary mind;
Just a mere shadowed  mirage,
like an old faded photograph
in a heart shaped locket
kept  near my soul centre
for days, weeks and decades….

while
fall winds crooning blue zephyrs
frigid, incantations upon the
once verdant meadows
where the fawns grazed
and wild horses pranced
 so breezy carefree
on fine spring days....

I whirled and twirled , a carefree dance
on patches of clover and dandelions
in the spring of my youth

Reveling joie de vivre of sun
Sol warming skin and soul pink

I remember our long, meandering walks
in a picture perfect  rose garden 
scented with redolent pines
and aromatic wild flowers 
we conversed for hours,
my hand in yours
thrilling at your every word
infatuated by a fervent touch 

You, idly picking petals off a rose;
the deep timbre of your delicious laugh
resounding  joy to my acquiescent ears
as I cavorted playfully in the garden’s fountain
until lengthening shadows quilted the path
with reluctant to leave, sun beams
of a late summer afternoon

And afterwards, in twilight violet sky;
intimate moments by a blazing fire,
silent music of our hearts thrumming
a lovers sonata while
you kissed me;

gold specked brown orbs, 
so pleasurable and beguiling,
warming my soul
full of tomorrows promise
and forgotten yesterdays

Now, as I picture this quixotic drama
rehearsed again and again
one solitary tear slowly trails down
and comes to rest on lines
that were not there yesterday…..

Dead cornflake leaves
crunch under my feet
as I walk the very same
bridged  pathway to the garden 

alone

my only audience
a solitary prickly cactus

in the autumn of my years.......

One Year

31,536,000 seconds and we age one year,
Time never to be replaced,
Things we did and did not do,
All the happiness and all the fear.

525,600 minutes and we age one year,
Edging closer to our demise,
Finite things to see and love,
To touch and to hear.

8,760 hours and we age one year,
The choices that we made,
Remaining safe behind our masks,
Or risk shedding a tear.

365 days and we age one year,
Following a narrow path,
Steady and acquiescent did we stay,
Or off the trail did we veer.

52 weeks and we age one year,
Our youth falls far behind,
Activities we much enjoyed,
Now too much to bear.

12 months and we age one year,
The people we have met
The places we have gone
The faces we did wear.

4 seasons and we age one year,
Life now so expeditious,
The future becomes blurred
And the past becomes so dear.

By Warren Wurzburger
June 2011

Trenchant Recalcitrant Poet Welcomes Animadversion

(alternately titled: aery diction galloped jocosely)

Abbreviation asper "FAKE"
abdication (wishful thinking),
an aberration Trump accepted
abjuration (or alternative) i.e.
ablation, thee apprenticed

president, would never forsake
abnegation (sooner his cold,
dead paws pried loose Putin
on the Ritz Carlton), this
abomination, his indiscriminate

abrogation appears (underwent)
acceleration autocratic accentuation
Americans aver acceptation,
acclamation, acclimation,
accommodation "FAKE"

accreditation, averse Hispanic
refugee acculturation, he blithely
asseverates, viz faux (trumped up)
accumulation unfairly fingering
accusation (baseless bigotry)

scapegoating fifty plus shades
brown illegal aliens despite
provable residency status
conveniently citing himself
perforce repetition validates

accustomation touts "FAKE"
non hardy laurels spilt, spelt,
and smelt acetification reign
ruination unleashing acetylation
promoting political acidulation

SCOTUS acrimonious activation
authoritarian smug egoistic
actualization nepotism, jingoism,
despotism actuation atavistic,
apathetic, allergic adaptation

acquiescent, arrant, abhorrent
adjudication Machiavellian aggressive
adjuration acrimonious atrocious
administration alarming, appalling,
arresting admiration abysmal,

artificial, asymmetrical adoration
awful adulation, ambivalent
apathetic adulteration avast
averse adumbration adulteration
affair advocation barren aeration
puffed hirsute aerosolization.

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