Best Argentine Poems
A crystal path I paved
to the realm of futile triviality
along the contorted contours
of the disguised desire
where intrepid roses bloomed
amidst the spiculed cactus,
the scent took me on mirage trail
to the oasis of reverie.
In the motif of morphed image
in my unclosed eyes
the lanced landscape turned
into a garden of glory.
The fringe of flying clouds
captured the colors of horizon’s pallet,
the beguiled breeze conducted
the captivating concerto of twilight
for the ruby moon to rise.
Within my deepening dismay
you in my orbit gleamed
with moonshine grace,
while the floating tinsels of silver dust
fluttered like fairy wings
on your silhouette face.
In mystique night you came enticed,
drifted with argentine flair
in the amorous aurora
of the sequined moonbeam,
lifted the shroud of secrecy,
entered my forlorn abode,
where I dreamed,
I was the full moon in your sky.
My Shoe Collection
Shoes
Nice if you have them
Shoes
There is love
There is happiness
When the next path of your journey
You take with shoes on your feet
Shoes
I am coming out of the closet
I am not a woman
But I do have too many shoes
Shoes
Love and relationships
Why there are a lot like a pair of shoes
At times, things may stink and smell
Yet still better as a pair
Shoes
If I could walk a mile
In everyman’s shoes
I could walk forever
Never having to buy my own
Red Shoes
The Red Socks
Will never win
Without good running shoes
Blue Shoes
If only I had blue shoes
Of suede
Id be dancing with you
After the autographs
Shoes
Homeless people wish for shoes
Millionaires wish for closets
Big Shoes
My feet are so big
Ladies buy me my shoes
Shoe Sale
The man with one leg
Looks for shoe sales
At half off
The Hookers Shoes
A good hooker
Never has used shoes
Academy a Wards
Winners and losers
All complain about their shoes
Petty and jealous, the famously inane
Their shoes show their vain
Shoe Diversity
They come in many fashions
In shoes there is humanities design
We all walk the path of human strife
All Shoes matter
Celtic Shoes
Irish Shoes
Scottish shoes
Welsh shoes
All meet at the pub
So their feet can have a rest
While the mouths imbibe with chatter
If all goes well
Later on
The shoes fall off in a clatter
Miami Vice
Got the finest shoes from Miami
Found out they were fakes
Tongues were bent and crooked
Must have come from crocodile skinned tears
Mocking the homeless with no shoes over the years
The Great Canadian Shoe Trapper
The trapper goes for beaver pelts
The millionaire goes for shoes of felt
Armani makes it all the way
Only when the consumer comes out to play
The Shoeless Argentine
If you wish to invade the Falkland’s
Remember to bring your shoes
Cause your dictator has all your money
He cares not if you really lose
Moonlight captures the freshness of blue
but my eyes are affixed to the beauty of you
ripples brush rhythmically along with the night
my chamber beats faster while I hold you so tight
our silence is broken by the sound of my heartbeat
your nearness succumbs sending shivers to my feet
here the twilight, searches for the words unspoken
whispered in my dreams, to a heart that was broken
kisses they long, to be felt on your lips
strong hands gripping excite on your hips
lean into me, lie your chest on my soul
you, mi amour, I shall never let go
salt tainted tears fill my eyes as I snuggled up close
Cariad I mouthed my heart you never shall lose
pull into me and push your inhibitions aside
in passionate throes our fears cannot hide
I entwined my legs round your radiant heat
we're making love to an argentine beat
sweat runs down my breast as the tempo does rise
the climax so deafening with our loud tango cries
used Picture No 2
penned 20 December 2017
A
path to
harmony
is one adorned
with vermilion hues.
Pumpkin leaves, remnants of
summer’s verdant colors now
drifting through the woodland splendor
through argentine skies, unified, a mélange
of the magnificence autumn bestows.
©2011 Connie Marcum Wong
In the splendorous sapphire space of my pristine heart,
shimmering in the sanctified radiance of the indigo night,
you gleamed like seraphic sequins of argentine moondust,
making me feel fascinated as I sensed your cerulean sheen.
My heart morphed into a mesmeric turquoise lake,
where the rose petals flying from my garden floated
with the reflection of the facsimile of your floral face.
My soaring spirit engraved the beauty of heavenly intuition.
My heart swathed by the silver streaks of stardust sparkle,
pulsated at its crescendo with the concerto of ecstasy,
where the beauty of your enticing ballet I saw imaged.
Suffused with moonshine my mind mirrored your charm.
My mind became resplendent replica of memory montage,
as the platonic pattern of heavenly love’s perception
configured the enticement image in kaleidoscopic collage.
where the unsoiled mirror of my heart reflected your beauty.
My yearning blazed in the inferno of your essence,
with the winged blizzard of winter the flame flew away,
turning the mind to extinguished embers of afflicted past,
piling up in debris of remembrance, swathed by gloomy ash.
On the weary wings of the winter of dire discontent,
wafting in wilderness on the polar winds of despair
the wilted leaves of my languishing longing
blew away rustling into the obscure realm of nowhere.
My yearning turned into glacial embrace of aggravation,
you flew away from the congealed fold of beleaguered love.
Forsaken in the freezing darkness of the arctic nest,
I live with the frozen feather you left in my plagued memories.
I dare you to do!
With glorious hues, under your
bare feet.
You, and your partner doing the
Argentine Tango.
In the valley of the clouds,
With the moon smiling down!
The stars applauding your dance.
Alas, you wake up to find it's
all but a dream.
And here you are, alone in bed.
With the melody of the tango,
still humming is your head.
Till your love joins you, with a
tender kiss.
Planted right on your forehead
then blossoming into a night of Romeo and Juliet loving, close,
joyfulness.
Ahh...those tango rainbows!
July 14, 2019
4pm.
Tracing back…
that is what I am doing now,
just tracing back
along this woodland path,
in an attempt to grasp remnants
of a time
when I felt so alive, yet dying.
Thoughts and memories,
they fall like these leaves,
a melange of confusion, beauty and frailty
Swept away by the wind, scattered
or swept into a pile, unified.
Either way, they can be stomped on,
brittle leaves crushed into a satisfying crunch.
All around me,
there’s a profusion of vermilion, gold and copper
but those reds have always been my favorite—
so alive, yet can also mean bleeding.
I see a pumpkin carved out,
a creepy smile adorning its face
A chuckle escapes from my lips,
remembering that time
when laughter lived in harmony
with love.
Now, I am not sure anymore…
Because how can something
that had so much hope, so verdant,
change?
I am a fool, for the answers
are so obvious—
I only need to look at these leaves.
So much like our lives, these seasons…
Not very long,
I will be staring up at argentine skies.
The thought of it gives me chills—
I pray for spring.
09272011336p414
First Date Poets Dozen
Saw her beside me
Eyes yearning desperately
I fell instantly
Perfume in hand I approached her ever so slowly
Not moving too fast proceeding oh, so cautiously.
After asado, and cinzano, then gelato, we took a stroll
Parliamo piano, piano, love's flames started then ci vediamo
Past heartbreaks revealed, nothing at all was concealed
Talking quietly entranced, long, long, into the night
Walking hand in hand hearts aglow with what we feel
Our hearts had found their home, we just knew it was right
My perception of her love's reflection, was to my heart's delight.
*Asado= Argentine barbeque
*Parliamo piano piano= we spoke slowly (Italian)
*Ci vediamo= see you later, goodbye (Italian)
First date was in Buenos Aires hence Spanish Italian references
Most Portenos residents of Buenos Aires are of Italian/Spanish descent.
December 24,2015
For Silent One contest
First Date Poets dozen
EDIBLE MUSIC
The garlics are on grand piano in the corner,
Playing alone because of their halitosis.
After making each other’s mouth water,
Clever lemons blowing their trumpets by osmosis.
Onions on sad violins making each other cry.
Mushrooms working in the dark but giving it a try.
Near the open window, beans - small but cute :
Those classic wind instruments , the musical fruit.
Latin rumba from Caracas with coconut maracas.
French grapes can-can in chorus;
Smiling bananas can’t-can’t, but just enjoy the scene.
Tangos with an Argentine tangerine.
Mangos mounting melodies on drums in Afrikaans
Peas piping on piccolos for an Italian folk dance
Rushing polka dots in a Russian borsch whirl.
Oyster shell castanets for a Spanish flamenco girl.
Asparagus dessed in ballet shoes always on tips,
And of course as always, Rose shaking her hips.
All rhythmic foot-tapping fruit
Forever looking for a new recruit.
The fall has remnants of the summer, but the day's not hot,
and all of our beloved are gathered in a woodland spot.
Bearing their good wishes, they have walked the pathway to
this autumnal chapel where I'll make my walk to you!
Around us, in our wedding colors - fall's most splendid hues -
is a bright mélange of flora with a sprinkling of chartreuse.
The tallest oak here is the steeple, reaching to the sky;
its leafy limbs have framed an arbor made to beautify!
Your eyes are dancing, and you wear a sweet, cute pumpkin grin
as I approach, adorned in flowing satin, argentine.
Our union, blessed like nature dressed in hues of harmony,
is sealed with loving kisses under a vermilion tree.
An argentine sky adorns the woodlands
In a misty shroud as only slight remnants
Of a long forgotten path remain,
Embraced by the beauty of maples and by
The scent of cool crisp air--autumn permeates.
Yet there is subtle warmth in the mélange
Of colorful pumpkin, gold and, vermilion leaves,
In their swirling harmonic dance
As they depart the boughs of their birth
Unified in death, as in life.
©2011 Connie Marcum Wong
*For Russell Sivey’s Autumn Splendor contest
HOW TO ALIGN A FINE LINE
Who can resist the pull of such a competition
Where the rules are so clear,
But the topic is like sex in the 60s revolution:
Filled with pitfalls but (yes, it was) - freer
Similar to the Argentine gaucho named Bruno
Who said well there’s one thing I do know
- Slang is fine,
Intentional misspellings are divine,
But a llama is numero uno.
And whose “who’s” is in question? Not mine!
Hey, they’re writing “their” over there
When it oughta be “they’re”.. . . Ok, Fine!
The effect of all this is to affect my degree of care
(And to effect a change in all poets, I hope).
Since mine is not a KNOCK-OUT of a poem
And I am certainly no dope
Nor am I a gnome from Nome or even Chomsky Noam
I hesitate to use the non-existent
Cringer word “irregardless” regardless
Of the consequences extant,
Or in future years countless.
………………………………………
Written by a nameless, talentless poet
For Nancy Jones’s Contest “Fine Line”
As we rallied to the Falklands cry,
And prepared ourselves to fight and die,
Some willing, some pressed, some volunteers,
All with deep down hidden fears.
Gangways gone, Hawser sip,
Sail Intrepid, fighting ship!!
Long hard days, sleepless nights
Working hard to get things right.
Ascension passed, Falklands closing
Argentine threat, everyone joking.
D Day troops- we pushed them through,
Still we laughed, so little we knew.
For us the war was still not real,
How could we know just what we'd feel.
Sympathy, hurt, pain and fears,
revulsion, hate, horror and tears
Bombs exploding - war is raging,
Begin to realise what we're facing.
Rockets loud and missiles firing,
Heroes living, heroes dying.
"Hit the deck" we hear the cry,
Please dear God I dont want to die
Air raid over, planes depart,
All quiet, that was just the start.
Weeks go past, countless plans
Intrepid:- Battle hardened veterans
Air raids come and air raids go
British Victory? Hopes they grow,
Ships hit, ships sinking,
People hurt, it gets me thinking,
So much pain and so much sorrow
Christ: it could be me tomorrow
Now at last Port Stanley taken
Argentine hopes, all are broken,
Britain has won, or have we really?
Peace has been paid for, very dearly.
Thousands of lives have been lost,
How can one start to count the cost!
Shortly, back to Britain will be the course,
Set by the victorious:- Task Force!
Into the arms of the waiting newsmen,
To be out on page one to page ten.
But when the publicity has all passed,
As I'm sure you know it cannot last,
Who'll remember the fallen lads,
Who gave their lives for the Falkland Islands.
The distant land no-one recalls,
Except when they bother to take a slight pause.
So take heed Politicians, look back over history,
And forget the Chivalry and the Glory.
They don' exist - lest not in this age,
Or can they in any future war we may wage.
Before you set forth on any crusade you may persue,
Remember the servicemen, you need to back you.
From this Epitaph, let one thing remain,
Don't even let one man have died in Vain!!!!!!
AEM(M)Clifford
20.6.82
Remind me of the sea that kisses the coast of Algiers
Where the tides are soft and the winds all but fierce
In that country past the strait of Gibraltar
Where the trip to Casablanca didn’t halt her
Taking a plane past the eye of the Mediterranean Sea
To the cheek of the Atlas Mountains in Jbel Ayachi
Tell me again, what you called the world’s left brow,
I believe it was either Kiev, or the city of Moscow
You journeyed on to the scarred eye of the Aral Sea
Where only sand was left to remind you of former glory.
Greeted eastward by the buildings of Ashgabat.
Which had a shade of white quite akin to that of Masqat.
There in Florence, where we visited the Sistine
Telling me you would soon be leaving for Argentine
Abruptly you went from the Chilean hills of Santiago
To concrete spires of New York and Chicago
Was it there that you heard an oriental song?
A melody you chased all the way to Hong Kong?
Though I might’ve confused myself with Singapore.
I’m quite certain it was either that, or Kuala Lumpur.
Fondly I think of our first kiss in the vineyards of Roubaix
Reminiscing me how strongly I miss your warm embrace
Making me hope that you’ll snap free of your peregrine
For I will patiently wait for you at gates of Berlin.
Bernardo O’Higgins Riquelme
was born in Chillan in central Chile.
The bastard son of Ambrosio, Marquis de Orsorno,
his Irish-born father hailed from County Sligo.
Bernardo’s mother was Isabel Riquelme.
She was from a prominent South American family.
Bernardo was supported financially
after the father became a Peruvian viceroy.
Bernardo was sent to London while a young boy
where he was able to acquire a formal education.
He soon learned to despise Spanish domination.
Bernardo sought to fight for independence from Spain.
His homeland should not be a colonial domain.
He would share the same ideas as Francisco de Miranda.
This man hailed from the north in Venezuela.
Both men espoused the prospective idea
of a free and independent South America.
O’Higgins joined the Logia Lautaro in 1810.
He was helped by Argentine Jose de San Martin.
In 1814, the rebels suffered a costly defeat.
Into the Andes Mountains, the rebels had to retreat.
This loss came at the Chilean city of Rancagua
It started the period known as the “Reconquista”
In 1817, the rebels won a great victory.
The Battle of Chacabuco ended Spanish sovereignty.
Chile and Argentina were both declared independent.
Bernardo O’Higgins became Chile’s first president.
Thanks to wikipedia.org online encyclopedia for pertinent information I obtained to
write this presentation.