Best Boldest Poems
“Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance.” – Carl Sandburg.
Glowing like the roused firefly glows,
Stirring souls, poetry just knows,
Love, fire, boldest winds of desire,
Rains blessing, song without a choir.
Words pouring out soft, gentle prose,
Glowing like the roused firefly glows,
Glistening dreams, love to extremes,
Beckoning from silence that screams.
Dance of dances, fluid verses,
Poetry that grace coerces,
Glowing like the roused firefly glows,
Poems who don’t just tell but shows.
Rhymes and rhythms, tenderly abide,
Singing of light, sometimes wild-eyed,
Hearts might remain in the shadows,
Glowing like the roused firefly glows,
Categories:
boldest, appreciation, muse, poems, poetry,
Form:
Quatern
Oh how this bodice is dressed in taffeta,
Lined with hundreds of lavender pleats
Spiraling, drooping, whirling
All over my voluptuous contour …
Bare these limbs grinding on soft moss
To tap among rustled displays
From many a lovers’ heat to children’s romp.
I gaze at my long tresses hung by threads
Of July frills, combing the strands
Delicate as clusters in a spin that ignites
The evening air, the lush of daylight’s vine…
And like Kojin in a free-fall prance, I cascade
Through a mantle of grass, my arms floating
Over wisps of mildest pink, of boldest lavender;
Then to curtsy in a prayerful Shinto bow
Under heaven's marquee where my chants
about lonesome tales are hushed in secrecy.
At nightfall, stars circle my lit frame,
The aroma of wisteria's mint huffs
outside my pores and unto an earthy glow;
Young the nippled buds swelling in lusty dusk
Till I gently writhe as a mystical shadow of the woods.
......................
SPRINGTIME STANDARD CONTEST
~ The wisteria tree is packed with an assemblage
of purple blossoms, falling in tapered clusters
to symbolize a kneeling pose of honor and devotion
based on Asian folklore.
~ Kojin: Japanese Tree Goddess
Categories:
boldest, beauty, imagery, tree,
Form:
Personification
“No one worth possessing/Can be quite possessed;/
Lay that on your heart,/ My young angry dear;
This truth, this hard and precious stone.“
- Excerpt from Sara Teasdale’s “Advice To A Girl”
That Precious Stone
I am that precious stone
described so beautifully by
a poetess, deceased, whose wisdom shone,
so listen now, and grasp me well. . . .
My grace can make you sigh.
Though a treasure, I am not frail.
The boldest of all souls I can make cry.
I’m truth; I can be hard and cold.
A love affair may fail,
but love is not to be controlled.
Gaze long; my glitter, icy white, will tell
you of the view you need to know.
More valuable than gold,
the wisdom I possess can flow
from me to you. Against your heart, just hold
me, taking in my energy!
Then let your knowledge show,
for truth, you know, can set you free.
Pure love inside you finally will grow.
Once grasped, my essence is your own.
(Inspired by Sara Teasdale's poetry
and the "Stoned Contest" of Catie Lindsey)
Categories:
boldest, allegory, love, me, wisdom,
Form:
Verse
- “Oh, no! not in spring-time! Summer, winter or fall!
No, never could I leave you at all!”
From the song “If Ever I Would Leave You” from the movie Camelot
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qqTveSQoKZE
A Legendary Love
In a special place, Camelot,
a legendary love blazed hot -
forbidden love that came to naught
for Guinevere and Lancelot,
King Author’s brightest, boldest knight
who sought the love of the king’s bride!
Passion could not be denied
although Guinevere so tried.
One kiss - their love took flight!
A spell was cast; now more alive,
than ever, they could not deprive
themselves of that which made them thrive -
that magic for which they would strive
to meet in secret, lest they burst!
Into each other’s arms they’d fall.
Joyously they gave their all,
for at passion’s beck and call
were two with endless thirst!
Her hair of gold; her face so fair.
Sir Lancelot could never tear
himself away from their affair,
and Guinevere, how could she bear
to let her soul mate walk away?
They lay when leaves or snow would fly;
or ‘neath spring or summer sky,
proving passion could not die.
What price they were to pay!
For Love STory contest of Silent One
Categories:
boldest, lost love,
Form:
Rhyme
Come along with me as I journey East
where fragile cherry blossoms flutter
before raining down from cloudless skies.
Let's climb majestic mountains whose crests
are always laced with crowns of snow.
Here, the scent of jasmine is caught in a breeze.
Bonsai forests hold ancient secrets of long past civilizations.
We will see dragons who seem to soar beyond the moon,
then take the shape of koi with the rising sun.
Listen as bamboo chimes sing in windswept percussion.
Their hollow voices reach across Tokachi River.
Legend says it was etched by the flowing tears
of a young Geisha who cried all night
when she saw her red-budded lips mirrored in a lake.
It's now a sacred place where lovers often meet
when the hint of a sanguine sunset fills the sky.
Their whispered words of passion's promises
are drowned in roars of towering waterfalls.
Say you'll come and we'll fly amid flocks of crane,
across paddies and valleys of lush green,
then feast upon crispy roasted duck
before we lick our fingers clean of Hoisin.
Sleep will find us beneath a blanket of willows,
and we'll gaze in awed wonder when we wake,
at the most exotic land of splendors we've ever seen.
We'll surrender promises that one day we will return,
for this is where our hearts now wish to dwell.
Give us brushes and canvas; paints of boldest oils
to capture the Oriental beauty, naked before our eyes.
July 1st, 2017
Exotic Places
by Debbie Guzzi
Categories:
boldest, beauty, journey,
Form:
Free verse
Cloudless sky, naked shades of azure.
Oh, summer vibrant, resplendent sun,
We thank Lugh for his longest luster,
Grateful for the bounty he gives everyone.
Sun lights awareness in every entity.
Oh, boldest, brightest waking day,
Season of growth, splendor, and fertility.
Abundant Earth is teeming with DNA.
We plant the new seeds in our souls.
Oh, wondrous, endless fire regenerative,
May we sip from love and passion’s bowls.
May we always pause, reflect and be appreciative.
Each summer we must willingly shed our tropes,
And rediscover each other with newfound hopes.
Categories:
boldest, happiness, hope, myth, mythology,
Form:
Sonnet
Hill, By and Blow - the three Billies brothers
Were constantly fighting each other
Hill was the oldest
Blow was the boldest
By was the baby by another mother
May 5, 2018
Hillbillies, Bybillies and Blowbillies Contest, by Caren Krutsinger
Honorable Mention
Categories:
boldest, brother, mother, old, technology,
Form:
Limerick
There flows in the blooming fields of Master, Claude Monet
a tulip river that springs to life with each impassioned stroke
A painting into which butterflies would be tempted to stray
where flowers waft in currents, making oohs and ahs evoke.
A Don Quixotic windmill and an old farmhouse in succession
short strokes of crimson, muted greens and boldest yellow
blended on canvas, the artist's Impressionistic expression.
Landscapes in natural light was the genius of this fellow.
I would snip a fresh bouquet of tulips to adorn a crystal vase
and capture their scent from the canvas for perfumed potpourri.
If I could climb inside a Monet painting, in my arms I'd embrace
you beside his tulip river and then sip a glass of crisp Chablis.
Categories:
boldest, art,
Form:
Rhyme
...He reformed the routing patriots,
formed a line atop a rise, Perrine’s Hill,
brought in General Knox and the artillery,
commanding the mass through sheer force of will.
He needed to buy time for the main force
to march on and join up in the battle,
the British kept coming, soon to attack,
convinced they still had the patriots rattled.
Before in battle the Redcoats just had
to flash their bayonets in the bright sun,
that was enough to scare Continentals
and assure them the battle was won.
But they were no longer facing such men,
the Americans had learned Europe’s game,
they did not flee at the sight of steel,
gave hard volleys once the foe was in range.
Britain’s field commander, General Cornwallis,
made several attacks to break up the line,
only to run into fire and rage,
with his Redcoats turned back every time.
They he tried to turn Washington’s left flank,
the boldest maneuver of the fight yet,
but the main force had come, and pushed forwards,
striking hard under young Lafayette.
Seeing there would be no quick victory
the British withdrew there forces back,
both armies in defensive positions,
the fight would become a long slugging match.
Soldiers hunkered down as across the fields
artillery thundered and cut loose,
both sides trying to break up the other,
their foe’s ranks they sought hard to reduce.
The heat was such that many of the men,
suffered and even died from heat stroke!
One man passed out and his wife manned his gun,
fighting on alongside all the blokes.
Then Washington sent Nathaniel Green
with artillery up towards Comb’s Hill,
a high position on the British left,
from which the guns could enfilade and kill.
The British saw their hopeless position,
and quickly began an ordered retreat,
marching north towards Clinton’s main force,
having blown their opportunity.
Washington saw his enemy leaving,
and sent Mad Anthony Wayne forward,
to harangue the British as they marched off,
cutting down men despite their good order.
And through the battle ended as a draw,
for the nation it was victory,
they’d kept the field in an open battle,
and matched the Redcoats in soldiery.
This changed the calculus of the whole war,
all knew battles would be more costly now,
England would no longer campaign in the north,
hoping for easier prey down south…
Categories:
boldest, america, conflict, confusion, england,
Form:
Epic
Autumn
paints New England,
staining hillsides, wrapped
in red,
garnishing the trail
beneath my steps.
The season spills
like cabernet across
a changing landscape;
where the maples
bleed
their aging, amber
leaves.
I stroll
amidst the falling flames,
below the blazing
treetops,
the crisp air thick
with life, that's soon
to rest.
I walk
through spreading fire,
listen to leaves, their stories
rustling underfoot–
As Autumn’s vivid,
vibrant gift prepares
to vanish
from the view.
And I
have never known
another place, to burn
so bright in red defiance,
and I stand, here
in the art of it– I breathe
inside this portrait
of an Autumn
in New England.
Humbled, though
it hurts
to hold what lingers
and what leaves
in just one breath–
A quiet, crimson sorrow
cloaked
in boldest, brightest
hues–
where the branches bare
their warmth in
celebration–
where the greens
refuse
to simply fade to gray.
One last breath
of leaf and smoke,
one final stroll
beneath the burning trees,
another look before
the fire dies
in winter's restless
wind.
And when
the reds lie blanketed
in white
upon the hillsides of
New England,
I'll think of Autumn’s color, and
let go;
Knowing that I had it–
if only
for a season.
Categories:
boldest, autumn, color, earth, nature,
Form:
Free verse
In October, I feel a nip in the air,
that frosts my breath like contrails of smoke;
as gilded leaves start falling from the trees.
Overhead, a gaggle of honking geese
are fleeing Winter's approach;
joining the songbirds that have migrated south.
The leaves are painted in thick, bold strokes
of yellow, scarlet, fuchsia, gold and orange;
inked by Jack Frost,
and sprinkled on the ground like confetti.
Amber and vermilion drip from the trees;
pooling into a crunchy sea
of colorful leaves that the wind weaves,
into shifting swirls of abstract art.
One of Nature's boldest paintings,
Autumn steals one's breath away, instilling awe;
infusing Summer's death with Winter's birth,
it is a magical transformation to behold.
Categories:
boldest, august, change, color, hyperbole,
Form:
Free verse
If i were brave
i’d leave my job
i’d be an artist
adventurous and audacious
i’d be extravagant
and listen to opera
as loud as loud can be
fearlessly i’d dabble
on the edges of insanity
i’d paint murals
with the boldest colors
bringing joy to
every passerby
i’d put an end
to injustice
to poverty
as well as sadness
i’d get on a plane
and fly around the world
i’d climb the Everest
to Katmandu
i’d run to meet
the dalai lama
sit by his feet
and somehow
through osmosis
soak up his peace
and crystal wisdom
i’d fly east in sync
with every sunrise
then turn around go west
to capture every sunset
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
posted by November 7, 2019
Categories:
boldest, adventure, art, dream, fantasy,
Form:
Free verse
Gentling verses, like softly spoken dawns,
Pour out rhythms, releasing hungers,
Stirring hearts to breathe, restoring hopes,
Prayerful moments trembling,
Echoing, glistening shafts of heated praises,
Mysteries in shadows, embracing – erasing
Shades of inspiration, focusing on joys
Alive like the dancing winds, traipsing
Through autumn, leaves crisp and light – waltzing
Colors – boldest scarlet, tangerine and gold,
Laughing whispers who respond to the skies
Rich with cerulean grace, risking the lazuline lines
In attractive fogs, mists rising over the mountains
Where memories blur the past with now,
Lighting the way for passions to cry out…
Inside the wall of pines, which could tell of so much more
Than memories could hold, more laughter,
More love, more entreaties to God who knows us
Like the ordinary groanings, who release burdens
Too heavy for souls, too difficult for moments when
Blessings rain down through the tears,
Liquid prayers, alive with feelings and fears,
Enemies of perfection but best friends with relinquishment,
Fulfilling wishes, bold and pleasant as the stars
Winking at the moon, holding burdens too heavy
With inklings of fiery melodies, tender
Like the noon when bees travel from rose to lily,
Milking the nectar, fostering frames – tiny
Gospels told by those who remember the sting,
Singing through the song, revealing
Purpose in the hurt, when the tingle – the throbbing
Inspires light to fade, weakening, dying …
Insipid, gushing, rhapsodizing a night when stars hide,
Exposing the naked truth – just like the sun
Who births light and reveals every new dawn, baring
With it – a beautiful far more soothing than the moon’s,
A beautiful that abides in the new day, the new smile,
The newness of a hope, a prayer, a dream…
Releasing vanilla sighs to signal the moon
That, yes, oh yes…
It is time for rest, time to test the skies
Who are eternally blessed with God’s wondrous light!
Categories:
boldest, appreciation, beautiful, emotions, heart,
Form:
Free verse
With the Nepotism in my planet, essentially in my land, life compels
And factual morals are forgotten. Ancestors way of living are forbidden
By the rules we live in today.
What’s happening in our society?
Flash is made to capture, to imprison,
Not to poison and abolish every tale we ever had.
I sense discomfort when I glimpse defiance of young in open, forgive me but i
Feel pain when I see the future walking in distress; giving their lives in return for a good life.
Give them credit, but our lives were much easier before.
Simplicity is no supplementary.
But not everyone who’s involved wants to,
Pleasure is the case, dissatisfaction is the face, eish did I say it’s the pace?
Wait a minute
Facing my demons with abstemious eyes, doesn't add up, I need a fluid to go through
The night, where’s my pint to nip the tank of my thanks.
I’m jaded, guzzle, gulp facilitate
Slurp!
It kills me to be unable to maintain my being,
Without sentiment awkwardness,
But little voices say…
‘Just be intoxicated, without any guiltiness’.
My hero dies in vein, my mother stress in pain, and my friends suffer in shame,
I didn't do it, but the hunger for more led me to desire more.
Everyone’s scrip end is thrilled, but in one way or another,
there is a season for everything.
Life goes on, I’m a young woman. I’m different, I’m a lion and
I’m in control.
I may not be the most courageous, boldest, and smartest,
But god gave me a voice and a pen,
I refuse to be the statistic, the common, and the everyday indict,
I refuse to be them, they, us, and we, I choose to be “I” alone.
I am a woman, a lion,
This is not the time to point fingers,
This is the time to raise my left arm and say I am a woman,
stray the shy of my spry.
Heroes always live, but
Hero die in this one, because this is war.
Categories:
boldest, anger, betrayal, celebration, conflict,
Form:
Heroic Couplet
All In Sean
Monday at the Kings is poker and beer
There is ale drinking banter and cheer
A donation is put in a charity jar
Kept in full view behind the bar
Attending is tfhe boldest player ever born
He goes by the name of All In Sean
All in, all in, all in Sean
The boldest player ever born
All in,all in,all in Sean
The boldest player ever born.
A smile appears on his face
As he looks at a second ace
There is no ifs there is no buts
He tells all that he has the nuts
There is only one option for All in Sean
The boldest player ever born.
All in, all in, all in Sean
The boldest player ever born
All in,all in,all in Sean
The boldest player ever born.
He picks up seven two off
Sean could not give a toss
A flush draw appears on the flop
Still Sean with his chips gamble the lot
He still might hit says All in Sean
The boldest player ever born
All in, all in, all in Sean
The boldest player ever born
All in,all in,all in Sean
The boldest player ever born.
But Sean does not mind being bold
For he also has a heart of gold
As long as money goes to Wishes For Kids
And he helps them by raising a few quid.
I do it for them says All in Sean
The boldest player ever born.
All in, all in, all in Sean
The boldest player ever born
All in,all in,all in Sean
The boldest player ever born.
Categories:
boldest, dedication, friendship, humor,
Form:
Lyric