Best Cleverness Poems
A book that I plucked
from an antiquity of books
filled my nostrils
with a smell that I will always know
and always love.
This love cannot be explained,
but neither could any indifference.
At the back of the hall,
distant from and opposite to
the comical speaker's rostrum,
behind rows of chairs filled
with the attentive and the obliged
and the hands raised in angst
to express righteousness
and cleverness
(look at me ! hear me !),
I, too, would be righteous
and clever some day
(wasn't that clever ?),
but those dusty old books !
And who could forget God's hand ?
It thrust earthword,
its sword gleamed
a split second before cleaving
a wicked man in two,
skull to groin,
a dusty old book
among dusty old books,
explored with petrified daring
by fingers so tiny they're forgotten.
A platoon of books competing,
all to be explored in turn,
some more readily than others,
all old, all dusty, all so rich in scent,
none to be forgotten,
never to be forgotten.
5th July 2020
Categories:
cleverness, memory,
Form:
Free verse
"You are ... different, aren't you?" she said, crinkling her nose.
That sentiment, spoken by my fourth grade home-room teacher
Had been paraphrased many times before
(And would be countless times again)
Different, unusual, odd, weird, curious, complex, or just plain strange
Those were the kind ones - the ones I can repeat
My favorite, however, was "unique"
The day my mother put it into that sensible little frame, I knew ...
I ... was HOME.
You see, we creative folk
Are not put on this good earth to "fit" into it
We are not molded to be a status quo part of society
But rather, set apart FROM society
Our gifts are granted us in order to change the world
Not continue the order of its mundane spin
We are interpreters of the language of beauty and ingenuity
We weave expression and imagination into what's tangible and visible
Turning ideas and emotions to the substance of words and color and sound
Bringing light and clarity to variation and choice
We are the very children of NON-conformity
Living proof that acquiescence and conventionality stifle the human spirit
We are soldiers of vision, innovation, cleverness, and inspiration
Fighting the war on commonplace, submission and docility
Battling daily in the name of ALL who are unlike the Average Joe
And bringing inspiration to the world.
So, do I think I'm "special"?
Yes, for we are ALL special ... every single human is born with unique gifts
Ours - the artistic talents - just happen to be of a creative fashion.
Yes, I am odd, strange, weird, different, unusual, and unique ...
And I am BLESSED ... to be so.
~ 4th Place ~ in the "CReAtiVe CoNForMiTy" Poetry Contest, John Lawless, Judge & Sponsor.
Categories:
cleverness, appreciation, art, creation, culture,
Form:
Free verse
The Bloodstone, The Raven And Master Poe,
Part One
The ancient stone, here Raven bled
Cursed and flew away alone
To follow the dark and make its night-bed
Unholy accursed path, bloody the stone
From the abyss, into light of the earth
With Fate and anger, its darkest of hands
A beast reborn - shadow of devil's worth
A repugnant new plague upon this land.
Woe! To the unsuspecting that are blind
Wading through life, unaware of the beast
A heart slayer, infester of the mind
Ravenous for innocence, its great feast
Invisible to most, a curse to few
Relentless in darkest of wicked guile
Ever seeking the cries of victims new
Witty its bold actions, patience its style.
For centuries it search to he then meet
And with the cleverness of its black wit
At his house uninvited take a seat
Torment nightly, drive insane- bit by bit
Blind to the ghastly creature was young Poe
He that life and love had been so tragic
Raven decided, put on a fine show
By showcasing its best evil magic.
First to wake its victim at midnight hour
An ungodly screech a soft tapping sound
From the walls, using its wicked powers
Then whisper, to further its victim hound
For years Poe pretended not to such hear
He was busy, with writing his great verse
No time for such nonsense, no time for fear
Deny the truth of this tiresome new curse
In so doing, shut out this bothersome beast
Pen sweeter words of love and write, write, write
Enjoy fame, his being toast of the East
Phantom ignore, that newborn curse of night
Yet to Raven, this was but the new game
Had it not, its greatest victim now found
And in glee, flew aloft screaming that name
Swearing an oath to one day have Poe bound.
Robert J. Lindley, started Sept 4th, 1979
Rhyme
Note:
Part one of three, this from the original that was never completed.
Edited-- with now to write the two remaining parts to complete
the dark tale.
Categories:
cleverness, art, dark, evil, gothic,
Form:
Rhyme
The Byway
I may have been a place or two
Where your foot has fallen or wishes to.
I have known a decibel of fright
And shrieked aloud the cold dark night
In braveness have you reached in aid?
In kindness have you sought to save
Sweet precious feelings of a friend
And sacrificed your own true end?
Stoop not at indignity nor
Puff and gel in praise.
For both fade fickle in the light
And melt away in haze.
We’ll not be judged on cleverness
Instead we will succeed
On our state of readiness
To lend a hand in need.
Categories:
cleverness, care,
Form:
Rhyme
Once his brown alpargata shoes trod countless miles,
imagination burst from his vivid, traveler's eyes...
He traversed valleys leading to azure mountains,
and heard a chant sung with vivacious tones.
Like the invaders of the past that built sturdy castles
on rugged hills, he intruded in those ghostly places...
expecting swift lancers with fierce glances ready to attack him,
or take him prisoner and toss him in a dungeon completely dim.
But with his slick tongue, he would kindly ask for a fair trail
and be scolded by the drunken King with the fattest tummy
to explain with a few words his intrusion in that well-guarded territory;
and looking so young and innocent, his plan for deception wouldn't fail!
" Oh, mighty Frederick II...I come in peace and as a conquered native,
I would bow in admiration to be of service to your kingdom,
which extends from Naples to Sicily, your mercy is imperative...
may your soldiers unlock these heavy chains that make me lame!"
The Norman King with the bluest eyes ordered the knights
to free him and waited for words to flow from his mouth with dry lips, " My great
King, I have grown grapes that are so juicy to eat with bread and they make
the most delicious wine to bring merriment to your festive nights!"
" Where's this region you mention with such wonder and delirium?"
With red-inflamed pupils, King Frederick II asked him. And he traveler's deep voice
vibrated with loud excitement , " Into the valley of Baianum!"
" Let me out of this castle and I will show the purple grapes of a farmer's choice!"
" Let him loose!" ordered the tall, fair king. " Give him the fastest horse,
and let him bring me proof of his finding!" The soldiers obeyed with reluctance,
but little trust they showed in him: they assumed he was another well-paid jester,
who performed his comedy well...they knew the cleverness of that young traveler!
Categories:
cleverness, life, nature, nostalgia, peoplewords,
Form:
Burlesque
Normally, I'd not "Dare" choose just one poet
to honor. This time I have, hoping I don't blow it.
I've chosen to break my "Silence" in "Gratitude"
for "Captain Tom," a man who has a great attitude.
He posts "Footle x 20" and genius "Covid Limericks."
Ribald anecdotes that make us smile, just for kicks.
I pay "A Tribute" to his cleverness and amusing wit.
He could stand at "Hells Gates" with "True Grit."
We've all enjoyed his "Lockdown Humour" on site.
He's not afraid of "Confrontation," and will fight
with "A Rattling Rhyme" written with "Sharp Sword."
Tom's historical epic writes never leave me bored.
He shines like "Northern Lights" in "The Night Sky."
Believes in God, if you read his Etheree, "The Magi."
Tom Cunningham offers "Wise Words to Ponder"
from many years of traveling, hither and yonder.
He's usually the first to announce poem of the day.
Poetry Soup is like "The Zoo" with lots of wordplay.
It's been a "Ghost Town" when "True Angels" left
leaving Tom feeling very sad and terribly bereft.
He wrote "If I Ruled The World" I'd have a goal...
There'd be no bullies or "Gremlins in My Soup Bowl!"
Then post "A Few Limericks to Lighten Your Mood."
Mark my words; Captain Tom can be mighty shrewd.
At "Daybreak" he might be hard to find, out of reach.
Likely, he's taking "An Early Morning Walk on the Beach."
A little "Red Wine" and he gets into "Mischief," and yet,
I doubt Tom often walked on "The Highway of Regret."
He's a man of morals, so "Don't Criticize" my choice.
"In Times Like These" I appreciate his fine poetic voice.
Tom is a loyal friend; who genuinely seems to care.
On "Life's Journey," he's not ready for "The Rocking Chair."
June 3, 2021
Title Wave Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Rick Lamoureux
In tribute to Tom Cunningham ~ gentleman and poet
Categories:
cleverness, feelings, friend,
Form:
Rhyme
in an
angst- saturated
moment i find you there in
my travel bag, injured by the neglect of
a poorly screwed-on sparkling water bottle cap:
my beloved poetry notebook of fifteen years. You are
now one-third soaked and stained at the top. I shudder to
think of throwing you away or burying you in the cemetery of
old college diaries and love letters. You were my faithful collector of
anxiety and pleasure, cleverness and drought, loneliness and victory;
oftentimes tucked away for months at a time as creative energies were
diverted to other outlets. Like a loyal dog whose master travels away, you
never gave up on me. How many times the tears stained your inky pages
long before I even knew that sparkling water was a thing! When friends
moved away, or betrayed me (how i wished THEY would move away), when loved ones died too young, or old ones lived too long (how they wished THEY could die instead), when my son was slaying dragons and my daughter was breaking up with an inattentive boyfriend; when my wife struggled with her sisters, or when I agonized through physical therapy or cancer surgery, you were patiently there for me. Even as my joints and stitches eventually healed, you continue to be my invaluable companion, both for my history you contain to the left, and for the blank, hope-filled pages to the right. Like me, you are aging, stained, lumpy, scarred, but two-thirds useful as i write under the stain.
///NOTE: the shape above roughly mirrors the unstained portion of my notebook, which I will continue to use in its deformed and lumpy new state!
Also, no poems were harmed in the making of this poem. I write in pencil, so the water didn't render any previous pages unreadable, thankfully!///
Categories:
cleverness, poetry, sad,
Form:
Free verse
I know your deepest fear, what you dread the most,
Still, your own desire you're preserving as a ghost.
You're guided by your arrogance; on your ego you rely.
Haven't you ever heard, the ego's known to lie?
You play your silly mind games; you think you are so smart,
But all this will ever get you is a sad and lonely heart.
You paint yourself untrustworthy with the antics that you pull.
No one can take you seriously when you're just a load of bull.
You think you are invincible and well above reproach,
But one as flawless as you, no one will dare approach!
You pride yourself with cleverness, while appearing stupid.
With so many attractive traits, there is no need for Cupid!
With all your flawlessness, you need not ever apologise.
One as perfect as you are, you're the apple of many eyes!
But how has this worked for you on that pedestal you sit?
Apparently not too well but you will never to, admit.
The years are flying by and the time is drawing near.
Sooner than you think, you'll have to face the fear
That you dread so much without another chance
To change your course of action and so, your circumstance.
Soon you shall be old and you will be all alone
With not one soul to Love you, except perhaps a crone
To make your life as miserable as you have to others, done;
To reap your Just Rewards, trapped in the web you have spun.
Written by Artsieladie/Sharon Donnelly
©2018-04-13 15:26:00 (EDT)
All rights reserved.
Categories:
cleverness, character, visionary,
Form:
Rhyme
We had a garden gnome named Griselda
the bane of our small bungalow
she was nasty and mean, at times quite obscene
the worst that you ever could know!
Her garden mate, Gregor, had feared her
but one day he mustered the nerve
with all of our backing, to send the girl packing
with cleverness, cunning and verve.
But she was vindictive by nature
and wouldn't let 'bygones' be gone
if it took all her years, she would stir up our fears
her plans were all plotted and drawn.
She waited 'til we'd quite forgotten
her villainous, vile, evil reign
then with fierce aggression, she took bold possession
of our lovely, dear, docile domain.
She poisoned the pansies and lilies
and shredded the sweet climbing vines
she disturbed my repose, when she broke the windows
with a shriek that sent chills up my spine.
She tore down my front porch swing
shattering the flowerpots and planters
mad wreckage in her wake, as she sought all to break
taking off to the back at a canter.
I squared off to defend my back garden
grabbed whatever I thought I might wield
at first, on my guard, as I entered the yard
I found she was hardly concealed...
And 'though she seemed alone in the garden
I soon found that I was mistaken
for, succinctly put- I was bound head to foot
and carried off, unhurt but shaken.
Griselda had built quite an army
it seems, in her time far away
for gremlins and trolls, from the caves to the knolls
were under her terrible sway.
They answered her orders directly
and smugly, she smiled and she smirked
a gleam in her eyes as she planned my demise
as her minions continued to work...
Heaving in stones from the quarry
they were piling them higher and higher
and my strength gave away as to my dismay
I saw they were building a pyre!
But Gregor'd escaped all their notice
as he'd hid 'neath the back garden shed
and despite his wee size, he would prove her demise
at his bellow, her company fled.
He used a cheap trick, an enchantment
that he bought from an old witch named Rue
and it seemed there were thousands (as far as the eye scanned)
of Gregors that came into view!
Her face was distorted with terror
and she promised that she'd stay away
and off like a blip- she jumped on a ship
and sailed to somewhere near Bombay.
Categories:
cleverness, fantasy, funny, hilarious, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
To be king in the land of princess
You must be dauntless.
When invited to tea you must comment on
Her appearance and dress
With open candidness.
Express
How glad and honored you are to be in the
Presence of the princess who will know you
Are playing out her childishness.
Bless
All invisible and tasteless
Food with a heart felt happiness.
You aren't just King you are also her Royal
Advisor so there must not be any awkwardness
Between you both while playing checkers
Or chess.
Use cleverness
When talking about her room being in a mess.
Be gentle when letting her know there will be
New people in her kingdom which will be
Powerless.
Don't let her suppress
Or have any anxiousness
Your invitations to tea or luncheons will be
Endless.
You will be helping your princess
To deal with real life issues instead of leaving
Her rudderless.
Thus guaranteeing hers and your success.
Categories:
cleverness, adventure, appreciation, childhood, education,
Form:
Rhyme
At any rate ... or any time,
I so prefer a metered rhyme ...
If from a fool or from a sage,
It bounces briskly off the page.
Quick to grasp a mind or heart,
And tickle fancies, a la carte ...
Dancing fast, and hard to catch,
Nimbly footed sounds to match.
Off the tongue to tumble, swift,
Rolling phrases dart and drift ...
Furtive words, so fun and fleet,
Filled with cleverness, replete.
Locution molded, start-to-goal,
To paint an image in your soul ...
Terms entwining wishes, bright,
To dim the day or burn a night.
Letters, turned to eyes that cry,
Lungs to breathe, wings to fly ...
Lines with tempo, sweet or sour,
Blooming runes as phrases, flower.
Words otherwise, just in-a-row,
But set to rhyme, compel us so ...
Thus taking phrases, commonplace,
And giving them a charm and grace.
Turning parlance into song,
Helping verbiage move along ...
Telling tales with tempo, quick,
No matter what the bailiwick.
Speeding up the things we say,
To send them sweetly on their way,
Words in rhythm just won't wait ...
That's rhyme to me ... at any rate.
~ 5th Place ~ in the "At Any Rate It Will Be Fast Moving" Poetry Contest, Julia Ward, Sponsor.
Categories:
cleverness, metaphor, poems, poetry, words,
Form:
Rhyme
(Double sonnets- Part Two)
Death First Knocks, Fear Then Enters, Plea Given
Double sonnets, Part Two
Death thy bladed hand, I gladly let pierce
That my end be grand, and my faith be fierce
Hollow words you spoke, what good few days more
For tho' life is brief, beyond lies joy's shore.
Thy guile cunning dark, thy cleverness deep
In life made my mark, thy price far too steep
My faith my haven, thy path a dark room
Raven was feared, that was Poe's great doom.
I bid you welcome, Fate has wrote that hour
Fear not sad outcome, death holds no power
Please set thy fangs deep, man's end but a sleep
Faith's vows I will keep, dying- no tears weep.
~ May blessings gift leaving in sweetest dreams. ~
~ Gone the vagaries and sad human schemes. ~
Death may be - black darkness, seas a-churnin'
Amidst soil rot and high flames a-burnin'
Or other realms, welcoming our returning
Or fantasy of more, our deep yearning.
Shall my loss, grieve greatly those I cherish
As this mortal coil is doomed to perish
I pray, this Fate, that of human demise
Is but change to our soul thereby revise.
A slow sink in seas of imagination
A sad parting from our close relations
Or perhaps, just a step into the Light
Needed sleep away from dread, dark of night.
~ May blessings gift leaving in sweetest dreams. ~
~ Gone the vagaries and sad human schemes. ~
Robert J. Lindley, 12-02-2018
Sonnet(s)- Part Two
Note: Tale of Life, Fate And Death , written in four sonnets
Part Two, Double sonnets- Will faith hold power or temptation of having longer life rule. Continued from Part One, previously presented here(double sonnets).
A total of four connecting sonnets..
Second Note- I have decided to not change my usual way of presenting my poetry. I will continue as I have from the start adding notes and dates and presenting as I think best. Sharing more information to the readers, seems to me to be a net positive and in no way a negative.
That so many great poets here expressed that wisdom, in my blog convinced me .
And reveals how many great and truly dedicated poets/artists we have at this fine poetry site.
Categories:
cleverness, art, dark, death, farewell,
Form:
Sonnet
So much of life
Is like walking a beach all alone;
Where you began is lost in the white distance behind
Where you are headed a mystery as well.
We carry along two small bags of pretty pebbles
We gather along the way,
One for joys
One for troubles.
Both bags get a little heavier
The further we go.
Mostly it's a long silent walk
With a boundless sea whispering by our side
In a tongue too ancient for the rational mind.
But here and there we stop,
Turn to gaze out over that sea,
Fingering pebbles as we do.
Sometimes, if we're very lucky,
When we wait and listen long enough,
The whisperings begin to make sense.
We become aware that
An unseen Someone,
A special Beloved,
Has been pacing us all along;
That we have never been truly alone.
One must be careful not to turn too fast,
To try to see this Beloved,
Or they will vanish like a snowflake on the tongue.
The trick is to cast one's gaze deep into oneself;
Then the Beloved will appear, laughing at our cleverness,
Then we shall see that our silent companion
Looks exactly like ourselves
As we appear to others' eyes.
If we can bear this gaze long enough,
They will vanish before us
We will find ourselves gazing out over that sea with their eyes,
To see it as it truly is: dancing, infinite, eternal, perfect.
If we can do this but once,
We can open our bags and toss the pebbles into the sea,
Even as we realize that sea as well is but a part of us;
We will understand its language of song and laughter,
Disappearing into everything joyfully
To the sound of our own
Perfect and infinite
Laughter
As the great whirling dance
Begins again.
Categories:
cleverness, faith, inspirational, introspection, mystery,
Form:
Free verse
Demitrios the golden Spartan captain sets sail for Italy
against the western wind; he will certainly mourn Piraeus,
and with sorrow-striken eyes, he'll invoke Poseidon.
Then he'll depart carrying the long hunting horn.
The small vessel will hold out and he won't fear waves,
but he laughs at Ares--who despises all kinds of irony.
Occasional gusts soothe the skin on his noble face,
unwrinkled and unrugged. Spring water should
quench his dry tongue; it's too warm and tasteless.
Stored in a huge amphora which depicts faces
of gods and warriors engaged in warfare,
it has the same warmth of the sweat that drips
from his hot forehead that has turned red.
Ahead, wisps of fog arise--an imagery whale.
Beyond there are perils and certain delights;
thoughts of danger will perturb him, thoughts
of discovery will enthrall him. He will be experiencing
them on his voyage--what he desires is smooth sailing.
He has heard of sirens and cyclops,
of fertile valleys and fields of yellow wheat;
of buffalos that roam, of goats and sheep that bleat.
How amazed he will be to find rocks
to build the New City*on that pristine shore--
he will declare his Queen sitting in the marble throne!
Demitrios the golden Spartan captain sets sail for Italy
to escape Achille's curse; he refuses to hide in the wooden horse,
he will never return to Greece. Athens and Sparta will not fight
with swords and arrows; their grand plan is to win war by deceit.
Cleverness will defeat the Trojans. Only Helena foresees the worse;
they don't heed her words--Troy will fall to the enemy.
* The New City: Neapolis ( Naples ).
Categories:
cleverness, character, city, conflict, courage,
Form:
Rhyme
The Battle
Spiritual Warfare- Light vs. darkness. A dramatic collision.
Don't be ignorant of the assailant schemes, venom and cleverness. Cling close to the Lord. Escape detection. Playing churchy is not good enough.
Painful surgery only answers deep needs. Potent truths. Conquering dingy, gloomy deceit. Hurled into the sunless pit. For the victory, glory and honor belong to the Lord for ever and ever! Shhhhhh.....Be confident and know. Rest in God's sovereignty. Absorb the Orphic realms of the spirit. Holistic wisdom breathes righteous character. Root awakening. Don't waste your pain. Envy and strive are worthless. Maturity comes with a price! So be of good cheer. The world has already been conquered. The mustard seed does it's job. JUST BELIEVE!
Categories:
cleverness, bible,
Form:
Free verse