Best Affluent Poems
I will always remember those uneven paths,
which led me to you -
sorrowful reminder of promises I could not keep.
All you wanted was to sit with me for a while,
to talk and maybe try to make me smile.
Yet fate did not let us share the stars,
not even for one night - now there is only darkness.
I will never forget,
how you would sit under the sage green veranda,
sipping on your sweet tea, laughing and chatting away.
Many would sit and listen to your non fiction tales
about when the air was clean and the fields were green,
childhood mischief and forgotten memories.
I'll always remember that glint in your eyes,
the warmth in your smile and that sui generis voice.
Especially when parades of birds would chirp at dawn
and when gazing at fireflies flickering under lanterns at dusk.
The veranda is now silent,
but grandma still calls your name.
The aroma from those abundance of petals still lingers,
but your scent does not appear.
Berries still appear from your affluent olive trees,
but they shall never be hydrated by your hands.
Sweet jasmine still climbs up veranda poles,
maybe trying to reach heaven, to be with you.
Your last words will always live with me:
"Come sit with me, even just for a couple of days."
but the next day you were gone...
Dedicated to my grandfather.
1930 - 18 August 2018.
Silent One
26 August 2018
Categories:
affluent, death, grandfather, grandson,
Form:
Free verse
When splendor shimmers hypnotized glance
O, glamour, how captivating is your stance,
Aesthetic, harmonious, brushstrokes of art,
Flaring embers of elation in enamored heart.
Opulence of your aura lights glorious flame
Showcasing gems, glittering ornate acclaim
Ravishing pulses-fervid of inflamed desire
From stunning demeanor of alluring attire.
You are a flirtation, an enchanting display,
An embroidery woven, motifs exotic relay,
On fabric of life, teasing impulses of mind;
Fascinations galore, masterminds designed.
Yet, I wonder, if your charm is real, is it all true,
Are you a diamond, through and through;
Be not spurious, be not dubious, divulge a clue,
Behind glittering façade is it genuine you?
Be not a counterfeit to unsuspecting sight,
O, glamor, dazzle not, sparkling false delight
For inner halo is brighter that a phony smile,
Be the authentic grandeur of affluent style.
Categories:
affluent, art, beauty, fashion,
Form:
Rhyme
clad in rags, he wanders on Wall Street
he is invisible to hustling stock brokers
he is a man with no money, no property
a hapless struggler of excessive loan burdens
bitter winter winds blow across Broadway
he is invisible to affluent theatre-goers wearing warm winter coats
he is a man who watches them scurry past the cardboard box that is his bed
like a rain-dog, huddling in the shadows of alleys and doorways
he hears deafening explosions of New Year fireworks
he is invisible to the revellers
he is a man who cowers, recalling gunfire of a war he fought
echoing through his mind in restless nights
the incessant thumping of traumatic stress
he is invisible...a victim of post-Vietnam, Afghanistan and Iraq
who once bore a uniform and served his country with pride
he is invisible suffering alone, paying the price
through severe disabilities and permanent scars
with sadness, he watches voters going to the polls
he is invisible, a veteran with no voice in elections
he is a man who cannot vote without an “address”
a placard on a pavement might catch the eye
unemployed, homeless, unseen
but most of all forgotten
he is a man who seems invisible
but he is still a man
-------------------------------------------------------------
This is co-written by Paul Callus & Carolyn Devonshire
in remembrance of our war veterans.
[Published @ Muse to Move (A.P.F. Publisher UK 2017]
Categories:
affluent, remember, veterans day,
Form:
Free verse
assorted like the washing on its lines
the words appeared along my way
in bunches of neat paragraphs
they briskly flapped into my mind
still dripping with those concepts they
must have been soaked in for a while
I gladly felt them touching me
and liked their affluent display
of shapes and textures manifold
enjoyed the pleasant freshness
of the smell they carried off all
seasons’ winds spiced with ideas
time passing by would watch me
stealthily try on this one or that so
in their context rinsed with thought
to cool the feverish qualms of my
keen heart and growingly my soul
seems to be draped in purified attire
Categories:
affluent, allegory, friendship, life,
Form:
A spiritual sickness enveloped my stagnant heart.
I searched for her in darkened obscure visions,
A futile illusory chase that led to a desert of love.
Had I become addicted to her presence?
Deep in my heart, I knew that all was distorted.
I wondered if I really loved her,
Yet I could not bear the loss, knowing her as I did.
Finally, she disappeared from circulation,
It left my strength sapped from a wide goose chase.
Life trickled by slowly, as I lost my job, wasted my money,
Rendering my situation an almost irreparable ruin and loss.
Looking back, recollecting my bad choices
It took me some time to discern the inevitable damage
That rendered my skeletal life beyond repair.
Could I renew and restore my affluent fortunes?
Life had its ups and downs, like desert dunes.
All I needed was a fertile oasis. Walking on the hot sand
Was painful but I had to try. I began my journey anew.
Will I ever learn? Who knows? One can only hope.
After all, the desert is never endless though it may seem so.
Categories:
affluent, lost love,
Form:
Free verse
I do not belong to your affluent society,
nor do I live at your mercy
A victim of social circumstances.
You sell your art and I bank on my flesh.
No body likes to be called by my name
for I am not a part of your fame..
yet you will sleep with me at night,
smelling my flesh gives u delight !
Don't you throw away your pounds!
Instead ,get some bones for your hounds !
I spit on the way this society refutes
For no body is a born prostitute !
Smriti Jha aka Redfiery
Categories:
affluent, social, sympathy, body,
Form:
Rhyme
The dawn spoke her name like a silken secret
carried carefree by the tradewinds of lust and larceny
imported from the traderoutes of paradise and pandemonium,
sequined with violet venom she venerates the virtue of volition
her love is unlawful, unequalled in unrest, righteous in conquest,
tender in temptation, torrid your surrender, her beauty a will bender,
Queen of Empire Passion, warrior unknown to submission
her kingdom was not inherited, glory and throne ungifted,
the treasures, stables and territories, battles and crown all won,
rich in intellect, endowed with rare resources, affluent in original passion
bejeweled in natural beauty, she bewitches beasts and men alike,
Poets pen her preciously as Woman Total, Priests implore her pardon,
male servants pander to her anger and ardor, satisfaction she commands,
Sisterhood the symbol and soul of her mission,
I was just a man, a wanderer wading through her reign,
from the unsubdued North I came, a curious traveler with ancient name,
my tribe unfamiliar, underestimated, a Chieftain of steady pulse,
tresspassing towards her roots my aim was direct knowledge of her
woman of renown cunning and learning, woman of exotic ability,
seeking teaching and romance, though I would not be her Subject or victim,
this she knew, this she abhorred, a challenge to her dominance,
I agreed to meet her alone in the open morning of war,
in an abeyounce of gliding fire she comes riding out of the sun
regalia of black roses against red tears flying above her shoulder,
our horses begin a battle tromp, breaths heavy with moist mania
she has leopards in her eyes
poinsettias and death's palms painted on thighs,
scalps of exlovers and enemies slung on sadle
we acknowledge one another with ritual yell
I exclaim, Warrior Poetess, she screams Poet Warrior!
dismounting with mutual vigor our combat erupts
cutting my cheek with her blade's lip
kicking me in the ribs
I clinch her collared throat
and heel trip us to the ground
she snarls, I growl,
a glimpse of rescue in eachother's eyes -
J.A.B.
Categories:
affluent, courage, desire, fantasy, gothic,
Form:
Epic
Are winners defined by prowess
In business or in sport
Or by intellectual power
Backed by academic report?
Is losing determined
By lack of financial wealth
In lieu of big-hearted happiness
Or optimum good health?
Why do moguls and titans
With no Faith take the leap
While penniless paupers
Leap for joy from their feet?
How come rich men's wives
Are miserable, children spoiled
While laborers are elated
Though clothes and hands are soiled?
Are winning and happiness one and the same
When the affluent are unhappy is money to blame?
Why are the poor who struggle hard to survive
Still able to know jubilation in their lives?
Their money's still here when the rich are long gone
Just like when they came they leave naked and alone
With wealth or in poverty life is borrowed time
Where prime dividends are the spiritual kind
Abundance is far too uncommon to be the standard
By which winning in life might be judged
Suggesting those without means or money
Were never in favor with God
The value of winning might be in dollars and cents
But the price of happiness is the lack of pretense
Copyright 2016 Iger Rolyat All Rights Reserved
Categories:
affluent, black african american, destiny,
Form:
Ballad
(Read later stanzas for more of the humour part ; parody of politics)
I Can't think well of a democracy
if nepotism and false promises
are part and parcel of its idiosyncrasy
A system of governance can't appeal to me
if it forever stinks of the 'stinking' rich plutocracy.
The media the ravening wolves many times their puppets,
together they howl for our divided attention
With wily words to win the masses of marionnettes
The nation's welfare merely their scheme in pretension.
Wonder why political power has to be the monopoly
of ambitious, vainglorious affluent power moguls.
Why can't they simply choose leaders
from any sincere poor yet wise and humble individuals?
The promises of a better world by 'em' politicians
are simply the oratory tricks of slick tacticians.
Demagogues come in all shapes and sizes
They come in 'perfect' future leader disguises
Pulling you and me to polling booths, luring us the dumbstruck voters
To amass as much power and wealth as possible in their limited quotas.
No wonder poor presidents are turned or burned
in the form of their rude and crude effigy cartoons
Comic sarcastic politics I say, since a caricature
it purposely lampoons!
Then the demonstrations, remonstrations
but they only invite riots and tear bomb gas
So if yah can keep your rallies peaceful
maybe you won't be such an ass.
And if yah do go ahead ranting, panting, slogun chanting
No seeds of discord nor weeds of hate be sowing, planting
for a showdown with fleshy arms, no metal arms can still be prancing, advancing
With sloguns not shotguns be ye protesting and demanding.
Thus I really wonder if politicos politicking
really do make the world tick.
Or do they simply in many places cause
timebombs to parallel the clock's tick?
(ok cast d ballot n vote 4 me as funny presidential candidate
of no-man's land ;
Categories:
affluent, international, parody, political,
Form:
Rhyme
Lies glamour gossip and Earl Grey tea
turbulent tales boiling in China cups
elegant sacraments of blue-haired ladies
pinkies stuck up in the air, hiding their
anger or boredom or feeling their own
despair.
Crimson glass roses feathers and jewels
crowned with wide-brim hats, trimmed
gloves, lace fans and perhaps some pearls
are appealing to these extravagant, fast
and proper old girls
The guild does not approve of
cola,
tortilla chips or
piercings of the tongue.
Invitation is by Tea Bag only. merely
a device to project the status of a
proper and affluent wife.
Shaved legs polished nails and GiGi’s
Brazilian waxing will enliven you as a
part of the crowd, but may be a little
bit taxing.
Categories:
affluent, beauty,
Form:
Free verse
Affluent and formal
pink lilies deck the tables;
we await the
sweet, affected
laughter of our friends.
Bedecked in bouffant hair-do's
perfumes, ermines, jewels
brocades and buckled shoes,
we dazzle, yes! We dazzle
with our mirrors, and our decals,
our precious art, and plaster,
exotic candelabras,
but I can't wait to make my
exit to wander in the gardens
and let the scented air restore
my soul
To get completely
lost in moonlight and
fragrance of the night
never to return,
to that balcony, nor
endure, the boring empty twitter
that temporary glitter.
I can barely wait till daylight to
mount my noble horse
and gallop miles and miles
and miles away.
To feel the solid earth resound
beneath his flying feet.
I have crossed that fragile threshold
into madness.
I can no longer be a Duchess
Suzanne Delaney
Categories:
affluent, fantasy, farewell, identity,
Form:
Free verse
"living in a man-made island,
with blinded eyes, and unfeeling heart" (Quote By Poet)
What do we know about poverty,
What do we understand about suffering…
It’s a miracle that we were born into families
who had enough food to eat and share,
celebrate festivals lavishly with gifts and delicacies,
Enough space to live, and comfortably too!
Enough clothes to protect from ravages of weather!
What if we didn’t!
Born in a non-affluent country,
I have seen the down-trodden,
I have seen people begging, starving,
Living in the most miserable conditions…
I have also seen the opposite...
People flaunting their expensive clothes,
jewellery, houses and cars,
without slightest remorse or feelings of pain!
Poverty is a curse, but
Being super-wealthy might be a curse too!
It’s like living in a man-made island,
with blinded eyes, and unfeeling heart,
surrounded by walls of cruelty, and
insensitivity!
March 28, 2023
Writing Challenge "P' words Poetry Contest
Theme: Poverty
Sponsor: Constance La France
FIRST PLACE
POEM OF THE WEEK - week of April 2, 2023
Categories:
affluent, poverty, sympathy,
Form:
Free verse
A. Anarchy
Amber autumn aflame
An aroma of ash appeases the adamant arsonist; the artful anarchist
An audacious attempt at attacking back at our arbitrary accommodations
The ascended advocate us to abide as they affirm their advancement through annihilation
An abstract artifice, artificial affirmation of all aspects
Treated like an array of aliens in our allowed acropolis with the armor turned against us
Most amused with their asinine aspirations and amaurotic attractions
A few too apprehensive to argue and ask for an alternative, afraid of any altercation
But the agitated and annoyed assemble, ascertaining truth through awareness at every angle
Amateur acts of anger arise and accelerate, accompanying their adverse assault on our amendments
The alliance ablaze and amassing, anticipating an apocalyptic ambush
Absolution remains absent and anger becomes anxiety among those abandoned
The affluent assure abolishment for the average and all under
Categories:
affluent, america, art, community, corruption,
Form:
Free verse
Introducing our own Dr Ram
Though he be not from Thailand Siam
Creation made him then broke the mold
Dr Ram’s words are better than gold
The man Ram’s contests quite a pleasure
Poems provides own little treasure
Gent of class from India I’m told
Dr Ram’s words are better than gold
Willingly a heart ask how and when
Listen to his advice then you win
Never has he caused one heart to fold
Dr Ram’s words are better than gold
He’s contented with his earthy lot
Settled back in his favorite spot
Affluent in talent and he’s bold
Dr Ram’s words are better than gold
He says all my dues have all been paid
At peace I’ll watch my own sunset fade
Seventy plus, why break a good mold
Dr Ram’s words are better than gold
For Joe Maverick and Contest: Better Than Gold
Categories:
affluent, friendshipwords, heart, heart,
Form:
Kyrielle
Seeds were sown on fertile soil while
SOME FELL upon STONEY GROUND
(This is a poem about one of the latter)
Oh affluent lady in smart design
Scurrying to Tim’s bar to taste of wine
But one and all can see beneath the paint
Scars that pay heed to a lost soul so taint.
Consumption foremost doth addle her mind
When desperate to track a daily grind
Eyes witness testament of her flurry
A lustful grin contrives her to hurry.
With a shaking hand crystal flute to raise
Each sup hallelujah in silent praise
An embarrassing glance though not a care
Her inner most pain bared for all to share.
Hastily she consumes her liquid meal
Her body pulsates unable to heal
A repetitive shot needed to please
No unsociable craving to be ease.
Silver Jag’s outside all bright and gleaming
She fights with the keys her body screaming
A need to be alone and get away
So she can measure the rest of the day.
© Harry J Horsman 2022
Categories:
affluent, abuse, destiny, sad,
Form:
Rhyme