Best Audaciously Poems
Perilous is the journey, sordid is the quest, flashing flirtatious desire,
Treacherous is gaudy aspiration, playing with torrid flames of fire;
No matter how thrilling, how visceral may feel this insidious chase,
Neither it is a road to endearment, nor is it a destination of grace.
Provocative is charming croon, simulating sound of love’s acclaim,
Exhilarating is ephemeral attraction, missives seductive inflame;
Audaciously feigning love, squalid is the phony paramour of shame,
Teasing emotions in tawdry games~ ignoble is his heartless name.
Allures of the dangerous dalliance, dazzle donning a seamy stance,
Hosting rendezvous immoral ~ an illicit dance of lurid romance;
Transient are escapades of infatuation, never meant to forever last,
Buried are their broken-hearts, in cemeteries of jilted forlorn past.
In interludes of life and time, wrinkles weary warn of receding age,
As lascivious phase, in book of life, begins to turn a fading page;
Revealing to glamor and courtship: the aura of beauty is long gone,
And nightmares of regrets have since robbed, avid dreams of dawn.
Obsession of lust wasn’t love~ admonish the sad memories of yore,
Promiscuity of casual encounters, pathos of remorse now abhor;
Wondering if it’s too late to long, for lasting bond of kindred hearts,
Before empathy of love departs, before the warmth of passion parts.
Quote: Know your value. Confidence breeds success. Act like the person you want to become, and people will start seeing you as that person.
Mark M Ford
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Those who embrace, avid ambitions of heart,
To them shall the reigns of future belong;
From charted path of passion, they never part
For earnest is the promise treasured for long.
O, how they strive, aiming for heavenly skies,
Flexing audaciously to conquer higher highs,
Fixated on life’s goals with purposeful eyes,
Focused mindfully, primed to win the prize.
On might of confidence when achievers roar,
On strength of willpower their dreams soar
Employing fortitude resolutely brought to fore,
Sailing to shores, dreamt in travails of yore.
Glumness they defy of shroud and sorrow,
Planting seeds of hope in despair of woes,
Aspiring bright horizons on dawns of morrow
Overcoming hapless shadows cast in throes.
O, the doers and believers instinctively know,
Hurdled with failures is the road to success,
As they drive dreary nights to mornings aglow,
Fueled by aspirations, dreams revered possess.
Painting dream-scapes upon canvas of vermilion skies,
O, time! how you elevate my dawn in periwinkle sunrise,
As day’s footprints, glistening amber tapestries rise,
When rhythms of birds, with musical winds harmonize.
O, immortal aura of time! has anyone ever seen you?
Spectacular at birth: wasn’t the big-bang your debut?
What your omnipresence looks like, I have nary a clue,
Ruling my existence, as seamlessly you pass through.
Mockery of love you make, fading it over your domain,
Hurting hearts once enamored, feeling pain of your reign,
O, time! you changed me~ who I was, I’m not the same,
Robbing my vigor as I age, sadly my exuberance you tame.
You transform themes of now, into dreams of morrow,
Planting seeds of hope, healing my wounds of sorrow,
As through your wintry woes rise, avid spring meadows,
Shining motifs of today, glinting yesterday’s shadows.
Moments you take, as earth rotates, turning into days,
Yearning for infinity as you traverse into eternal haze;
Audaciously presupposing your empire shall never end,
As ceaselessly through heaven and earth you transcend.
With the morning begins my day;
Different roles I'm ready to play.
Again and again I am perturbed ,
But nature and emotions are undisturbed.
Silently, without a word, all needs I suffice;
Day to night, unsaid unconditional sacrifice.
What do I gain from all these duties?
Deteriorating my health and my fugacious beauty?
Still, I don't pretend, I take my job seriously;
As a homemaker and a mother, working audaciously.
If I don't follow my virtue as my duty,
Who else do you think will prove their loyalty?
(Rhyme Scheme- aa bb cc dd ee ff)
21/04/2016
P.S. This poem is inspired by my mother who is a diligent homemaker and the best mother on earth.
“I hold a delightful being and an undesirable being inside of me.
It’s up to you which one you meet”
~~The Poet~~
dismally destructive
yet charmingly creative
unabatedly chaotic
obligatorily perfection
unsophisticatedly naïve
graciously worldly wise
uncouth and ill-mannered
poised etiquette
audaciously rude
enticingly eloquent
unsuitably slovenly
exactingly efficient
decked in Shabby attire
styled with cultured couture
disheveled, dingy
polished, well-groomed
in company of many in ill-repute
thoroughbred acquaintances
robotically draconian
artistically graceful
An insatiable fire burned deep
Holding a form and face so fair
desire audaciously would seep
Captivating all men who dared
Gazing with hot savage blood
beheld her with fear and lust
their desires would then flood
This only added to her mistrust
who'd satiate her burning desire
This man a claimed conqueror
Could he truly handle her deep fire
would she remain his subjugator
She gazed with a burning curiosity
A dagger tightly held in her hand
He'd gotten this far with his tenacity
Could a conqueror finally withstand
One ,Won, Once
By Chuck Keys
Brightness can be blinding
With your eyes closed
Or with your eyes open.
Darkness can be blinding
With your eyes closed
Or with your eyes open.
As a driveway needs a parked car,
Does color make a difference? Hurtfully
Yes. Yet, we're all the same.
Can a green pepper ever be red?
Or should the
Red pepper be yellow? Color again.
Can't stop hearing that surface beat. Loudly.
It’s constant and demanding, with
Painful colors.
Can you hear it too? It’s so loud,
Obvious. Audaciously clear,
Mostly passed over.
We all bleed red;
Cry tears,
Love, fear,
Hate, ache,
Want, need,
Eat, drink, chew,
Live and die, regardless,
Same insides.
Crayons are different colors,
We want them all, in one box.
A complete set.
Separate is never equal.
When we become one
Only one is won.
Once should be f ‘ever.
© Charles H Keys, 2010. All Rights Reserved
(APROPOS OF THE MANY OF US: THE GREEN VILLAGE)
PROLOGUE:
Some don’t quite get it…
Life will reveal it to you:
Mothers are of God.
A
Keeping hope alive…
Strong stalwart sable sisters:
These are our mothers.
B
Ebony beauty…
Sustaining us in all things:
God bless our Mothers.
C
Beautiful sable souls…
Audaciously bold in faith:
Praise God for Mamas.
D
Ploughing up our hope…
Tears nourishing our courage:
Moms cultivate men.
E
God’s labouring wombs…
Moulding navels of His love:
Mothers…God’s angels…
EPILOGUE:
Happy Mothers’ Day…
Queens of our eternity:
Navel giving souls…
Bearing a European polymorphism, I should be branded by shame.
I am the White Devil as they claim.
The Ciakara, a bipedal reptilian that fades in and out of gamma rays.
The Ivory Dragon with razor fangs.
He who breathes flames of artillery; consuming the indigenous cultures of men.
I who supposedly slaughtered, raped, and evangelized my own fen.
A Caucasian falsely accused, I must defend.
I sigh with Celtic lungs.
Long ago in antiquity, they cut my foreskin and Gaelic tongue.
Apprehending my crown and bride while the rebels hung.
Enslaved and hate I have not done, but due to this achromatic shell, their numbers I am among.
But I am the blank hero who is sullied and unsung, for an enemy of all is an enemy of mine
Yet compassion’s tide is on the rise, I am consumed by love for all races and all colors of hides.
Reds, blacks, browns, yellows, blancos and pinks.
An alabaster bastard I may seem to be, but in the utmost totatality, I am proud I am me.
Despite my lack of melanin; my reverence and acceptance of self sets all others free.
So I will slay the Neo-Nazi supremacists and ethnocentrisms, by nationalist and patriotic decree.
To reorient this cumbersome narrative; as such that I see fit in my mind’s eye.
The Maverick Abolitionist of Light, I let my skin audaciously shine.
So yet again, the fierce Anglo Saxon attacks; swiftly and valiantly one more time.
Only to redefine the phrase “White Pride” so I may make it mine.
haiku A
keeping hope alive---
strong stalwart sweet sable souls:
these are our mothers.
Haiku B
Ebony beauty,
Sustaining us in all things---
God bless our mothers
Haiku C
Beautiful black soul---
Audaciously bold in faith;
Praise God for Mama
Haiku D
Plowing up our hope,
And watering our courage,
Moms cultivate men.
In disingenuous defenseless dreams of the damned have wept
They awaken within sempiternal solitudes that they have slept
They're above all asseveration of tenacious tears they accept
For inside patricentric passage of time becomes illogically inept
The axiomatic assembly of manqué multitudes in pacifistic plight
Their damnation dorms of diversity desecrated upon a fatal finite
Humankind’s humility a harbinger of ritualistic recrudescent rite
And sorrowful sins syndicate with vigorous velocity and appetite
Their altruistic ambient soul tangled torn beyond comprehension
Desolate deprived within a deceitful delight of a demons detention
Isolated and audaciously abandoned onto the grasp of evil intention
May love levitate their tragic turmoil and align them with ascension.
March.28.2018
Triple-A Challenge
Sponsored by: Robert Haigh
Placed 9'th
Studying the face’s familiar eyes
Compelled to ask, “Who are you?”
In a cant voiced riposte he said
“Wealthy and destitute”,
“I am impartial and prejudiced”,
“Compassionate and derisive”,
“I am modest and narcissistic”,
“Munificent and niggardly”,
“I am astute and imprudent”,
“Dignified and indecorous”,
“Each piece of this puzzle is me”,
“And I am the puzzle in entirety”
My mirrored face then audaciously asked,
“Now tell me…who are you?”
B eautiful balmy afternoons beneath a breezy sky
E namored enchantment of exquisite extravagance
A cross abstract patterns of audacious affinity
U nique and unfathomable ultramarine highlights
T antalizing the temperamental ticklish temptress
I ntimidating intrepid and intoxicating
F inespun fiery potpourri of flamboyant foliage
U nveiling ulterior unfamiliarities
L anguishing a luxuriously lavish love affair
F emme Fatale forever fickle frivolous facetious
A utumn's audaciously awestruck amorous arousal
L amenting the loss of loveliest luminous layers
L iberating legendary lethargic lullabies
AP: 1st place 2022, 2nd place 2022, Honorable Mention 2026, Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on September 8, 2018 for contest BEAUTIFUL FALL sponsored by JOHN HAMILTON - RANKED 5TH
US AND THE STATE OF THE WORLD
With our present world encapsulated
In a shell of abject tragedy, it’s becoming
Painfully difficult to pen pleasurable words
Of the beautiful glow of the graces of nature
As that of humankind blooms dark graveness:-
Today, declining humor, splendor, and praising,
Are at their lowest ebb on the shores of time as
Pandora’s Box continues to overflow pandemonium
Leaving us floating in waters of war meandering with
Spewed murdered blood of innocent human life…flowing.
Once again, a devilish power-mongering oppressor
Audaciously justifies mass murdering of women, men,
And their innocent children; mendaciously taking pride
In physical and mental collateral damages excreted by war
In the droppings of cesspool bombings from the butt of hell:-
Yet, despite the present-day earthly living hell
We now find ourselves blistering in, let us not melt
Into apathetic despair and hopelessness; but faithfully
Believe the truth-laden resounding echoing of these words:
“…Whatsoever man soweth, so shall he reap.”
Indeed, let us forever be mindful that in our sojourn here,
“Every event…[challenge]…is a…[revealing lesson]…from God.”
And that each of these events comes with an allegorical message
Which when perceived and understood, we’re again blessed
And become enlightened with divine wisdom and guidance.
May the divine wisdom and guidance reveal unto us,
The foot-printed pathway for us with no more cheeks
To turn but yet, seek not to become Satan’s little devils;
For the nature and keloid scares of our oppression, reveals
Today, the Devil and his own, indeed “…know what they do.”
what a running chestnut sounds like when Parting ways with a damsel like the wind whoosh Naturally the gallant knight of the noble Anguish Languish Galloping in clip clop steed whinnying standing alone ready to take the blame audaciously in the crinkling face of smoke filled nose the dragon Roars vibrating the ears rearing an ugly wheezing head The hooting laughter hahaha hihihihi of passersby burping out who done its in midst of gaseous hissing fog blushing little lady long gone into silent retreat Ripping out loudly It was not the ribit ribit of a croaking frog with swooshing sword raised waving back and forth clearing the air taking brunt of insults you pig oink oink eschewed The clanging armor holds the dragon slain the stench quenched