Best Alliterative Poems
W afting wonder world-wide
A stonishing, astounding artistry
R apier-like Rennaisance rhymes
R enascent, radiant resonance
I ndigo inkwells of incense
O mniscient, omnipotent originality
R evered, redoubtable Romantic
Fly to Heaven on poetic wings
My friend, Our friend
Winged Warrior
Rising Rituals
ravishing rawness
ravenous raunchy relief
riveting repeats
Special Someone
sultry seductions
sinful sensations surface
seeking saucy stars
Taming Taboo
teasing temptations
tremendous titillations
tempting the tyrant
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July.19.2020
Let the Pens Flow ~Alliteration Poetry
Sponsored by~ Jenish Somadas
My conscience came to a clearing,
Freed from clamorous cacophony
Of criers, critics, and claimants
That commonly carp at me.
Calm, cool contemplation
Called out its care and concern:
Consider a commitment to courage
Fortitude's clear-headed urn.
Calculating quickly a crisis,
I had come to the critical curve:
Could I commit to courage and clarity--
Or into craven cowardice would I swerve?
My conscience had come to a clearing:
Could I conquer my demons this time?
3/1/2011
~seasonal serpents
poisonous serpentine shapes...
slither salty seas
For and in Honor of Chris Aechtner
And Contest: Alliterative Haiku
Scientific systems sometimes seem strangely simple, so say I.
Complex calculations can cause casual, concentrated conversations.
--- Sometimes I can be STUPIDLY SMART.
I literally love laughing at little, light Limericks.
Finally feeling fantastic following Friday’s frenzied finish.
--- Sometimes I FEEL SO GOOD IT HURTS.
Positive people perpetuate pleasant personalities.
Obviously oblivious of often onerous outcomes.
--- Sometime I WORRY that I live a WORRILESS life.
Typing tantalizing text to terminate tenth line.
--- I SOMETIMES ALWAYS comply with rules.
Abecedarian poems are also known as alphabetical sequential writings.
Being deviously different and difficult to
Compile, compose and complete. Consequentially combining
Determination and deviant, driven poets devote determined time, and
Exercise extreme etymological enthusiasm
For forging a fitting composition that
Guarantees generous grades, and gracious responses.
Hardly a task for hapless or haphazard hit-and-miss
Inexperienced, indolent authors with illusory intent to
Justify or judge poetry. Justification requires a jury of
Knowledgeable critics, possessed of a knack for keeping
Lyricism and logical, laudable linguistic language in line!
Many Poets, maintain a masterful grasp of their manuscripts.
Narrative is not so noticeable in novices, nondescript, nor
Obscure, opinionated obdurate writers, and
Poor penmanship, periodically proves this point!
Questionable quills quite often quake at
Recording random rational and rhetorical rhymes.
Skill sidesteps them: sends some to settle for success on some other site.
Taking time to tackle and test their knowledge may
Unknowingly, undertake an unrewarding undertaking for
Views vary - very violently and vociferously at times,
When writers, with witticism, warmth and wisdom, waffle to
X rated Xanthippes or
Yield to the yells and yammering of yahoos, yokels and
Zealous zealots! Zesty writing of an alliterative ABeCedarian is zany!
Rhymer. November 16th, 2016.
The blade buried beneath the burning.
Old hopes lost, back in the lash of battle.
One man walks along the winded mount,
Turning slowly, the sun-silvered seas
Draw his heart horizon-ward, his eyes
Focus in search of the lone fluttering sail,
The boat that bears his bloodied King
Away from heavy war forged ruin and waste,
Across the widening waters. Taken to
The healing houses of the Holy Isle.
Once flowing banners torn down, bitter flood
Of his enemies' hate hastening to undo
The loyal legacy. One still loves.
His fate not to fight hard, and fall
At the side of his sovereign Lord.
Ordered and honoured to keep heart-hope alive.
Over gorse crowned cliffs he carries away
The heavy stewardship of the infant prince.
His ward now to watch and rear, until
His time is full ready to revenge his father's fall.
chapel's choirboys ...chime!
Although amateurs are annoyingly apt at aping another’s avocation,
All artists accord another’s art acceptance,
As any artwork asks appreciation,
And after all, all artists are allusive, anyhow.
October 21, 2019
Reformatted October 30, 2019
Hard to bear and heart breaking,
The bitter sight of the shining One,
Broken in body still bold of spirit.
Spite driven nails gnaw the wrists,
Brow torn open by hard twisted thorns.
Our glorious King crippled on the cross,
In open naked shame ordeal nerve shredding.
The wounded heart wrung out by hate,
Still lavishing forth love's pure force.
Voices spitting scorn, savage fists shook,
As the crowd rage in great crazed hate,
Before His mother's grief flooded face.
The eyes close only ease and cease
Of bone grating pain, now passed and gone,
As His breath falters and fades soft away.
The crowd scatters, silence clears the hill,
Disciples in sorrow, decriers still scornful.
His blessed body taken down by humble hands
And placed in the hollow peace of
The garden tomb. Three days gone,
The seal set, soldiers stand in watch.
Now shook hard, hearts shrink and seize,
As the bright bearer steps down burning,
To roll the heavy stone, hard hewn, away.
Even the angel light is eclipsed as
He stands forth to bring the shining birth
Of the waiting world's ever reigning hope.
I am not the perfect poet,
you and I both know it,
though surely we could share,
our time with rhyme and reason,
springtime, snowdrop, couplets,
summer days of sunshine sonnets,
autumnal skies of falling paper leaves,
winters filled with warming verse?
Perhaps I've been too scared,
to tempt, or fraternise with fate,
now having taken too long,
and having left it all so late,
to pen this page,
with words of alliterative verse,
against this world of woe,
where life's adversities seem to get worse,
I'm plucking up the courage now,
to ask if you and me,
could possibly agree,
provided it's not problematic,
provided this is not treason,
that I could somehow be,
your poet for all seasons?
dull dark December -
devastation's depression
descends
UNCONSCIOUS ART
blot splotch
chance blotch
1406 ALLITERATIVE POETIC contest
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ALLITERATION CONTEST – a poetic phonetic
I often wondered why man-made laws fail.
They are canny compromised concoctions
Agreed to by gregarious, greedy
Souls with agendas. Agents for the rich.
These representatives repeatedly
Parrot party politics to pave the
Way to enactment. Actors on a stage
Playing roles with planned scripts from you know whom.
Feigning their motions with faintest vigor.
Only to con their constituency.
As long as there are have and have-nots
The have-nots will always want, the haves keep.
The rich control the governing body
Middle-class mental midgets elect them.