Best Cachet Poems
Axe the old Don, a trump peter n piper
of incredulous hellish crud - be gone
ha air brushed pompous ****
Sunkist in Macy's window
then like a jackal hound, he doth run
after public outcry yelps
for his hide leaving
proletarian discord re: pyrrhic victory won.
Donald Duck Trump ™$ - a pompous ass
makes war with his big brass
knuckles and bucket of crass
maligns vis a vis character assassination
while kissing thing kith
darting forked tongue sharp as bro kin glass
inciting banal deathly hallowed
expletives toward lass
sees – especially Fox Television
news anchor woman Megyn Kelly
(quite so many ill mannered indiscretions ago)
inducing said personality
to bear the brunt of brutish mass
of vitriolic n vile insults sacrilegiously
maliciously, noxiously, opprobiously
incriminating, hellaciously,
desecrating opportunistically as hiss oh piss
so…NO amp pull VOTE of confidence from me
(thus far ohm host halfway to 2020 election
toward such a volt char quite rude, snooty
arrogant simian with sass.
I van (terribly hard pressed)
to describe while sitting on me rump
how he oh bomb in lee rages
gnashing false teeth
Wilma backside doth slump
still blasting Democratic nomination
(pa hill a reed) as sham –
from special interest bro and sis turn pump
he, the epitome of
crass bloviation, a malignant lump
whose rants,
sans presidential outcome a shame
bullying with his millions beds this,
that and another woman to bareback jump
disseminating gene pool
birthing more Quakers
and additionally doth hump
the mass media as some foolhardy charade
and caricature of a frazzled grump
this arboreal clothed ape erected Taj Mahal
phallic symbol, where players dump
and gamble away hard earn cash
for his kitty, as if that cachet
to grind and bump
lambasting with maniacal
like "Stormy Dan" yells
leering oafish ill pout
while hair rum
(of red follicular) bulls ad hocks
atop his bulbous aerosol sprayed locks
resemble a flock
of bronzed sea gulls mocks
heady measly shaped Muppet Ox
dis eased cranial hologram shocks
of a cretaceous, facetious tocks
(sic) exogenous, insidious, and obstreperous vox.
When I asked my wife to marry me, ‘neath a golden moon,
I said I could not give her the moon and the stars, but,
“Each special day I will give you a piece of jewelry,” I said,
Then, jokingly, “When I am gone, you can wear your jewels
To the Caribbean and snatch up a younger, wealthy lover.”
I did not think I would survive her, being much older, so,
After she was gone, I opened her jewelry box and found
Her jewels—a lilac amethyst ring, a chartreuse citron pinkie,
An anniversary ring with a precious aquamarine, among others,
And, the coral necklace we found on the island of Barbados.
Born in July under the sign of Cancer, I had longed to find her
A ruby birthstone necklace, scarce and expensive as saffron.
On a road trip out west, we ran across an outlet jewelry store
Having a huge liquidation sale, and there, marked down, I found
Her a crimson ruby solitaire pendant as sparkling as could be.
We came home from Mexico with her oval watermelon pendant,
And a Mexican opal, lemon with a firing of iridescent tangerine,
Which she had carefully wrapped in a exquisite lavender cachet.
She had taken the money her father had given her before he passed
And purchased a beautiful pearl necklace--she wore it only once.
Written April 4, 2021
for "Changing Colors Poetry Contest"
sponsored by Emile Pinet
A story in The Times about
Admittance into clubs
Discussed the people who’d get in –
No luck for average schlubs.
You have to dress in certain clothes
And have the right cachet;
If not, you’ll not get past the rope,
No matter what you say.
What really got to me the most,
Describing women’s dress,
Was mentioning the shoes they’d need
To guarantee success.
Of course, they must be “Christians” -
That’s Louboutins, soled in red;
Or else Manolo Blahniks
May be strutted in, instead.
In either case, the shoes should have
No less than five-inch heels!
I wonder if the bouncer at the club
Knows how that feels.
‘Cause even in my younger days,
When cool styles I’d embrace,
If I wore five-inch heels, I’d end up
Flat upon my face!
I hate the whole idea of clubs
Where bouncers pick and choose
The patrons they’ll allow inside –
Based solely on their shoes!
the stream meanders
its ribbon rippling under a tired sun
that time seems to have forgotten
yet the afternoon warmth
exudes its ambrosial cachet
in the most gracious of manners
meanwhile a september breeze
gently rustles playful leaves
that have begun to turn
and autumn most willingly
parades in robes of elegance
with multicoloured jewels
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Underneath a gorgeous forenoon sky,
In a lush and cool garden of delight,
The green pheasant lifts his exploring eye,
Calling his all wise sage beyond his sight.
His melodious song praises the divine One,
Whose luminance descends in a beam,
Touching within the shrine bright as the sun,
Turning every thing gold as in a dream.
The Lord rests now upon His noble throne,
Calling all to climb up the stairs of stone.
There my reverie of Jesus commenced--
The glory of His office deified,
His knowledge of man’s history there dispensed,
His science of the present thither described.
Wisdom of the future was His display,
Myself humbled to receive His cachet.
Five years of learning was spent at this shrine--
Proving command of as many disciplines--
Crossing the bridge from human to Divine,
His acute knowledge of miracles begins.
Then writing for His testimonial,
Also history that brightens the wise,
With focus on the rites ceremonial,
And how theocracy does authorize.
Divine authority added to His reign,
With the King’s seal He departs the domain.
poetry slammin'
all this namby pamby poetry stuff
makes me think i've heard enough
shapes and sonnets and simple blank verse
even Iambic meter leaves me feeling averse
quatrains and couplets - the villanelle
are tough to swallow - sounds like swill
why anybody'd wanna hear some poetry
may be obvious to you, but it's way beyond me
all this writing and saying of wimpy words
to ants, elephants and me, seems absurd
can i comfortably feed my family and friends
with some onomatopoeia's epilogue's ends?
will Will's sonnet's of love so medieval
aid with the world's unrest and upheaval?
naw, i'm pretty sure it won't make it no better
probably it'll jus' make my mood blacker
i remember my tenth grade English teacher
who rhymed as standard operating procedure
as you might guess, this drove me crazy
you'd think i'm anti-rhyme - but don't be hasty
i'm really into today's rappin' scene
D.J.'s thrashin' and soundin' obscene
if bling's the thing, then bring it on i say
words golden rule brings my groove into play
of lines and times and mashin' thrashin'
calving rhymes cleaved leave us laughing
so ya wanna be a slammer? - it's cool with me
jus' slam the mike, but pick up your debris
don't leave no crumpled words layin' 'round
on the stage or the sidewalk, some unsaid sound
'cause I don't wanna clean up after you
and slam off the cuff with your impromptu
i got my own stance and rhythm and cachet
i'll jus' tell the whole world - i'm slammin' ok?
© Goode Guy 2012-06-04
A is for an album to hold my stamp hoard,
B is for back of book where my “specials” are stored.
C is for the cancellation that causes such strife,
D is for definitives with their unlimited life.
E is for excitement, the thrill of the find,
F is for fiscal and its financial bind.
G is for the gum that sticks them in the post,
H is for the hinges displaying those I love most.
I is for imperforates, those joined with no holes,
J is for a Johfra box to soak off without bowls.
K is for a killer mark that destroys a stamp’s worth
L is for local stamps with a limited dearth.
M is for the magnifying glass used for searching out flaws
N is for the newspaper stamps that brought headlines to our doors.
O is for “officials” with a government cachet
P is for postage due when the sender fails to pay.
Q is for the Queen’s head on all British stamps
R is for retouches and forgers re vamps.
S is for a stockbook for stamps that are spare
T is for tweezers to handle them with care.
U is for unused, a stamp postally mint,
V is for variety, it has a fault in its print.
W is for watermark to prove authenticity
X is for xanthic spots, rust, that strikes without pity.
Y is for youngsters and encouraging their dream
Z is for Zemstvo a rare Russian theme.
To see a stamp thrown in the bin, now that is such a crime,
I’ll revere it in my collection making it sublime.
Written 1st March 2013 by Rachel Fawcett. I am a Trained Nurse by day and spend my time off collecting stamps and trying to write poetry. I haven’t been publicly writing very long and this is only the second poetry competition I've ever entered. I love writing as it stretches my imagination and I enjoy the challenge it brings. I love collecting stamps as they bring order to my mind.
The Youth
Life lies ahead- every moment a delight of learning-
codes of existence- colors, manners, communication,
cachet, every sense guides our preferences,
sunrise vs. sunset, seasons, beauty or darkness,
our biggest longing, to be grown into the freedom of the elder.
The Elder
Life lies behind us- every moment we contemplate
the high cost of wisdom, the past brightness, the constant
juggle and juxtaposition of living that is now
just hours of reflection- a struggle to recall what fate has served
us, plates of remorse or small bites of elation.
We pray for others’ understanding, longing for the freedom of youth.
The Dead
Life has been supplanted into some unknown imagination.
Now we learn bold codes of non-existence. Atoms seeking
to replace dimensions- no longer earth bound
or burdened with a heart. Stranger wisdoms of remorse revealed –
love’s final measure in the bounds of the infinite.
Heavens – not just one, where at last we find freedom.
Each night's wrapped in a silken shroud
when sunset brings the end of day.
We wait for sleep and dream aloud,
"oh let me soar where bright spheres play."
Outside my window, in the sky
the tight-knit flag of night unfurls,
the moon and stars of silver fly
and billow clouds dance, reel, and whirl.
I dream of flying on a cloud
and landing where the stars array;
to greet the endless deep as proud
and view each night's bejeweled cachet.
If, from the heavens we espy
the earth, a luminescent pearl,
do not let our turn pass us by
until we touch her gilded swirl.
Outside my window bright stars crowd
along the moon's eternal quay.
Guide me through night, with hopes unbowed
to fly where stars and planets play.
Night's Silken Shroud
Quatrains
Strange--the journey set upon,
for I have never traveled
seeking just to close in finally
on home. I would see it only
as an inference laid bare
as I would strip away each incident
that stained it, cover it with
physicality, expose it to
the mothering of earth and sky
and finally betray it with a
death or life, which to be valid
must include each other.
And that is just beginning.
Intangibles are stubborn beasts,
and where was I? I could no longer
wrap myself in second-hand opinions,
assumed cachet, or
the wisdom of my peers. Time
and its attendant rite
already hastened those along.
But consciousness is in control.
Its mentor is the sun,
I, its pale moon with no light
of its own, its surface shallow,
with serenity I do not feel.
One alone with quiet thought
finds time's reward draws closer still.
Who am I?
An imposter, I may well conclude
and in a breath, a thief,
albeit lavish in beneficence,
who stole another's air.
~
BEDTIME MAGIC
Sprawled under nightscape of galaxy bright
Tiny sequins pulse on blaze of luster,
A beaded stars nova bursts on flight
Into a full-blown montage, the lawns flicker
Reams of tales climb on visions lit by dappled view
While children’s breaths gleam of fantasy hayrides,
And fairies jut out from chapters to touch the hue
Yearning to blend into a ladder that divides
The seashore from a skyline blushing streams;
On one unmentionable lightness of firework glory
Tinseled rhinestones kindle hopes of angelic dreams,
Holding a cachet of flowered moon for bedtime story
Enchanted, their mother blows a peppermint kiss
Staring at gems waltzing high up on glittered air,
Threads of her locks meshed by twinkles of lullaby bliss
As graceful nebulae cuddle sweetened hours, ever fair
Rounding her infants, wonders of night magic sigh
Stars radiant dip into eyes; winking good night, goodbye!
©
** *
For Gautami Phookan's Sweetest Touches Of Verse
By nette onclaud
It seems like yesterday
It was Valentine’s Day
We met at a café
My hair in disarray
He guessed I was fair play
Capriciously I said no way
Yet saw a certain cachet
So didn’t race away
When the skies turned blue grey
Raincheck for that sundae
We both took the subway
Agreed to meet Tuesday
Since I don’t play croquet
We saw a matinee
Tried kissing me midway
Thought it was his birthday
One might suspect foul play
But there was no replay
Or attempt at foreplay
Soon met every day
And became fiancé
Not one to go half way
When came our wedding day
Ordered a DuBonnet
Then threw my bouquet
Sped along the freeway
Craving our getaway
Honeymooned in Gaspé
Forgot my negligee
Then off to Santa Fe
Met our sommelier
Glasses of chardonnay
Cheerio as they say
Now baby on the way
Due next Valentine’s Day
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
DONALD TRUMP – RE: DUCKS --
this portion dashed off
(while dry ving an open white hearse slay
so many months back before
slated him slotted the most coveted
Casino biggest win - before the political imbroglio
much more upsetting than today
- - - - - - - - - -
Axe the old don
A trump peter n piper of incredulous hellish crud - be gone
With the ha air brushed pompous ****
so the Macy jackal hound doth run
After public outcry yelps
for his hide and proletarian discord won!
- - - - - - - - - -
Donald Duck Trump ™$ - a pompous ass
makes war with his big brass
knuckles and bucket of crass
maligns vis a vis character assassination with bro kin glass
inciting banal deathly hallowed expletives
toward lass sees – especially
Fox Television news anchorwoman Megyn Kelly
inducing said personality to bear the brunt of brutish mass
of vitriolic n vile insults from incriminating verbal pass
so…ex post facto viz mine NO VOTE from me
thus this digital screed to disallow him
to accept the oath of office, cuz he will hurrahs
from such a snooty arrogant simian with sass!
- - - - - - - - - -
I van a try to describe while sitting on me rump
How he oh bomb in lee rages with gnashing teeth
while back a slump
Blasting Democratic nomination as a sham –
From special interest bro and sis turn pump
He, the epitomy of crass bloviation, a malignant lump
Whose rants sans presidential outcome a sham rocking red bull
in a China shop with his millions beds this,
- - - - - - - - - -
That and another woman to bareback jump
Disseminating gene pool –
Obama null lee birthing more Quakers
and additionally doth hump
The mass media as some foolhardy charade
And caricature of a frazzled grump
This arboreal clothed ape
Erecting Taj Mahal phallic symbol where players dump
And gamble away hard earn cash
- - - - - - - - - -
For his hello kitty, as if that cachet to grind and bump
Lambasting with that maniacal leering pout
while hair rum runs rampant with red bulls
In a China shop atop his bulbous aerosol sprayed heady measly shaped
ulterior motive aimed his sights to become Pastor of Muppets
Dis eased cranial hologram
Of a cretaceous, facetious and insidious mump.
----------------------------------------------------------
By: Baron von Ivan Mal N. Ya.
It was spirit of the time.
The lethal trade of-
missiles, someone was sending free.
You collect the cachet
of bleak weather. The
roses were in bloom.
Trying to conceive the
buttercups in the blue-
frame of melancholia.
I err, and find myself
in sleep after the contact.
A genetic gratitude overwhelms.
You catch the stings
blindly. The other sin will
take care of itself in blood.
Satish Verma
Whit dat tight till - say
yes, aye wool thank ewe
mooch at least for today
hoof fully (this Joe kerr)
can easily bide his time weigh
beef hoar rammy cows come home.
Meantime India interim
lemme clover - reaching
far out on dam moost precarious limb,
bot do nut inspect me tub bark prim
and proper, nor procrastinate for tim
marrow, cause spontaneous whim
will lose heft, no matter how inane
poetic palaver could by then
elude ding me noggin to explain
nebulous jibber jabber hokey folderol
even confusing to a Great Dane
a dog (of course)
man's/woman's beast friend,
not hounding visa vis discovering
you improperly verb (bait him)
bone a fied with noun (sense)
barking up wrong tree
dangling modifier as gerund
faux paws and inquisitive,
nonetheless countenance do lend
sincere cachet gnome hatter compared
to average superficial *****sapien
said former doggone creature just thru
facial expression can mend
"broken" heart and soul,
which rhyming tangent did send
yours truly off scent, asper initial trend
actually truth be told, no paw tickle har
matter, I sought to sink teeth into,
but let babbling stream of consciousness wend,
where petty full extemporaneous tooting
oh my didgeridoo, which initially scares
the dickens out gills of hooting
blowfish until they recognize
this bloke juiced pooting
air thru a long wooden tube, be yule
then their piousness piqued to pisces,
gather together as if attending school
always mindful to follow
the goldenfish rule
i.e. aldi tom not erring,
floundering, and getting
tricked, royally suckered, and
hooked becoming gruel
resulting within tummy higher
up the feeding chain,
survival of dragnets cruel.
fission expedition for
salmon to hope fillet
enjoys almost done hook,
line and sinker - hooray,
sans to steal mental energy,
and precious time may
king another reason to be
persnickety and every ray
zen to be guarded, when
wading in cyber seas tay
king precautions, once
I return from Uruguay.