Best Coterie Poems


...."the Wedding At Dreamendon" ~

Dressing the ancient stars amid their anthem weddings attire....

The universe anxiously anticipating these adorned galaxies of, anew ~

Bookplate bridesmaids, with such glittering eyes and broadening smiles

Quickly making their jubilant ways down, the amendable aisles

With a world beholding as, the best of man.... 

Hearkening hearts rejoicing so, very deeply inside; paradise

Standing at the altar aside, the most beautiful of glorious grooms ~

Wearing heavens luminous harvest moon colours; commencing halos

Visages, as a sparkling fireworks display afore the joys of an innocent, awestruck child....

Immaculate and pristine; these most mesmerizing of scenes

Cygnus, gathered here to unite this day, paladin unto the morn ~

Extenuatings pragmatic veil; crimsons silkened tides now torn

From, the final pages of such history and lore; a candid, jewel leavened door....

Prismatics band; lifting these velvet promises of an everlasting rainbows, I do ~

Sidereals notes of well-nigh chime; sweet music across the blue made skies

Church bells, reaching unto the furthest realms this, celebrations invitation

Come one come all; come as you were come as you are; the brightest star

Making their way through the constellations; jubilee, and all of creation ~

Coterie, disembarking at the depot from a waking moment; neverendings, final destination!?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

...."The Wedding, at Dreamendon" ~






Note: Smile ~ "Merry Christmas Everyone; May It Be 'Beautiful & Bright; Love,'" John!:) ~

Premium Member The Poet's Ache

I ache for the dream that a child has
Hope for the gifts from the Santa Clause
Wake to the words with awesome pizzazz
And twist my lines in a string of jazz.

I ache for my share of tender love
Like the gentle lift of a flying dove
Hold my thoughts in a random pause
And weave them into a poetic applause.

I ache for my share of health and wealth
Ride on the wings of my family's strength
Let my vibes explore the globe
And rise my work into eternal scope.

I ache for the shores of a wonderland
Spin my life into a musical band
Let my stanzas escape the bound
And embrace the joy of holding the crown.

I ache for the wings of a freedom bird
Fly on the arch of wisdom words
Bind my ballad of intellectual coterie
And master the art of beautiful poetry.

August 3, 2017

Fairy Magic

a pixie dust allusion on fairy wing profusion 
a cranberry wreath on a child of bequeath 

a touch of grace on a deer soft as lace
a lantern slow beam on a forest gleam 

in a world of gilded fantasy, we are poetry 
in a world of innocent dreams their coterie 

in a fairy world of love we are impearled 
in a moment of creative enfold we're gold

an incandescent light at the end of a forest 
one touch of mercy and suddenly we're blest.


Silence

Nigeria & the New Year Presidential Gift 
SILENCE

Silence! Stillness! Silence! Inaction!
All guises of an impending eruption
The only sound of merriment
Is in the coterie of increment
I wish there could be joy in this clime
Like the pleasure you get from my rhyme
Our busy rails, ports and roads
Are our platforms for relieving our heart-loads
On boards, boldly written are our words in hues
Is it our turn to be deprived of shoes?
We trek the streets proclaiming a new birth
While our detractors soar like birds in mirth

Silence! I encounter silence everywhere I ambled
Is it true that our peace has been gambled?
There are only two persons I see
The first person, a damsel, I glee
I will never have seen her, thanks to subsidy
But to Keats "beauty is truth, truth beauty"
I would have fallen for her seductions
But I resisted her like subsidy attractions
I would have blindly succumbed, rejecting truths
Now I discern why all hands protest, even youths
Our pains increase yet no decrease
All we patients, diagnosed for the same disease
Our misery, their fortress; our words, our refuge
We persist, our tears for justice in deluge
Empty promises sadden our weary lobe
Hence; we seem the dystopian part of the globe

The second person, like the Ancient Mariner
Expressed his pains and fears in this manner
"Once upon a time, in their kingdom, animals –
Birds, reptiles, insects, aquatic and mammals –
Rejoice over the death of their brutal king
In unity and hilarity, they dance and sing.
'At last,' they said, 'it’s now authority, no more power;
Our words and woes will be respected in the new tower;
No despot reign, but a shepherd for us all sheep,
Tender-heart and loving; his promises, he will keep;
Our promise land! A new captain to steer our ship
He will use the mace to direct us, not as a whip'
All - ignorant of the dead despot’s fairy -  are whining:
For he was alive and in a shepherd’s cloak, ruling"
Then the tale teller asked, 'Alas, Is that their lot?
Who's now leading, the shepherd or the despot?'

Premium Member Poetry Friends

Exposed to types of poetry
a coterie
of poet friends
great poems pen

I wish that I could read them all
from that I fall
the mountain climb
there is no time

How satisfying to belong
we're growing strong
our dear peer group
Poetry Soup
© Mark Toney  Create an image from this poem.

Apostasy of a Prophet

This Casuistry is a paradox
Fallacious    feelings           repress
A Sophistry you ingress    Chemically redox
Tergiversate under scrutiny.  A misfit – an anachronism.  Elusory emotions to express
My argument a confused paralogism	Chicanery  
Fugacious Piety worships AWAITING THE FALL  
An elaborate machination Formation of 
this Cabal To unravel this conspiracy
Renegade inspiration
A
Live 
Grenade
Revolution call.
Societal crumblings
A mind poisoned by barricades
Limitations.
Cures itself
By questioning everything
Invalidity, obscurity, corruption
Topple under 
Plots of our Coterie
Political pressure
Militant insurgency
Worship the gun
Worship the steel

Guerilla tactics 
Metro
Urban
Rurally
Camouflaged pawns
Stratagem
Pieces on the board are people
Playing for real.
Didactic Leaders
And 
Pedantic parents
They’re history and experience
In perspective reveals.
Cycle of manipulative
Elite, controlling
The pariahs
Starved in appeal.


Lottery

Ever since my lobotomy 
I buy tickets in the lottery, 
and the day that I win   
I'll be invitin' in 
everyone in my coterie.  


Entered in Susan Burch's Lottery Ticket Limerick Contest for Feb 2, 2012.
© John Smith  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Indices of a Loon

GOODLUCK

Gutless muffled monarch wooed millions to the poll, 
Our feeble lord enforced by pathetic speech of poverty (I once had no shoes) 
On congruent grounds of pain we forced him, though we hated his coterie. 
Disappointed, we wail waiting surrogate to lead to unending journey of relief
Lackluster, jejune as pervading rot lingers
Unvaried captain rocks our boat, gagged around by plunderers.
Circles of death, twinge, pauperdom and miseries mocks the reign of naivety.
Kleptocrat adorn self in regalia, loved the honor. lacks duty

EBELE

Embezzlers of collective trust bequeathed in hope, 
Bandits as conniving ministers besmirched our obtuse scamp
Egregious, craven, shrieked at the sound of war (I am not a lion) 
Laggard lumper loon left fanatical murderers at our doorsteps 
Encumbrances from his delinquent clan divide the love for mother land

DAME

Damp squib's duchess of indecent tongue, never feels a vestige of restraint
Academic 'double misnomer' with licence to libel, 
Merriment and intrigue feigned as obligations, 
Edgy. encumbrance though ceaselessness forms their  amity. 

PATIENCE

Punk pretending and purloining to private vaults
Adventurous nerve for futile globe trot 
Twitchy at the affairs of state, though Unemployed by sensible Poll
Intoxicated by serendipity, shaming all with activity
Euphemistic drama Usurps Scrappy literacy on cultured observers
Crude verbiages to amuse myriad of eggheads (my Fellow widows) 
Encomium of Yesterday's approval turned sour and Tsar inept mode prevails

Jokers jostled in enthusiasm to rule, (politicking for 2015) 
Onslaught from 'Boko-Haram' drove sleep from wearied countrymen
Numbed as "hoipolloi" echoed NO to mistimed removal, 
Alas, the fraud, rapscallion looted the poor to a blindfold
Tyrannic cloaked his garb in power busted on the streets with the troop 
Higgledy-piggledy bugled the travesty of Democracy
Amidst the rubble of a crumbling amalgam
Nigerian Lords watched the drama secured among a troop we die helpless

Topiary Comes To Life

Non descript hedge rows sculpted into ornamental animal 
via botanical artist wielding pruning shears and chain saw 
carved, limned and sculpted with wrist wrought voila uber
prestidigitatiously head turning botanical picturesque Sun
kist animals at an exhibition transformed miraculously via 
Te Deum divine fist bumping, whence realistic fauna burst 
alive with an explosion of colorful twist and shout of foliage, 
where scalloped superfluous detritus manna for naturalist
deciduous detritus capacious carpet boar animation punk
chew waiting groundswell Liszt ghost would arise from the 
grave to produce magnum opus without a beat missed such 
shrubbery mimicking the likeness sans glistening fleshy sin
yew, and gist about ready to become bone a fide (green be
hind the ears) thriving vox populist, per species and genus 
wrought thrashing into birth as delicate craftsman promised
to imbue life, liberty and pursuit of happiness whittling away 
leavings, thus did exist the nascent then omnipresent visible 
entity emerging from cocoon an herbalist metamorphosed 
from the imagination of a skilled, practiced and mentalist 
conniver viz extracting the initially obscure blessed beast, 
where with august magic wielding tools of this specialty vis 
a vis bringing breathing manifest destiny ala Pinocchio (trans
formed from wood to flesh), whereby finest dexterous 
chiseling blistering hands baffle onlookers as coterie of 
topiary harvest breaths mind bogglingly astoundingly 
authentic rooted ready to frolic in the grass menagerie 
a gamesome group of linkedin live progeny, the Michel
Angelo of dirtiest canvass, an earthen tabula rasa of sorts 
where application threshing re: electric cool laid ahs hid 
test brings out chlorophyll doppelganger green hued key luster.

Who

Ring! Ring! The ambiguous sound always stays true
My last year implacable acquaintance is renamed as “who” 
Perfidy to the fidelity is what who do

Ring! Ring! Driving to the next didactic coterie
I pass the car I will transcend, unlike poetry
Where the topic to be… who I see

Which didactic coterie is who in, unfortunately it’s mine
Since my car got a new engine and placed in a faster line
Ring! Ring! Who keyed my trunk and felt it was fine

Ring! Ring! Who I loathe to sit near
Simultaneously, those Medusa eyes should be fear
We used to drive together… as so I hear

Ring! Ring! Time to go home
The inhibition of hate is so close gone
Perfidy to the fidelity, who said it wasn’t wrong

Who wants to re-acquaint because my car has speed
Who was never a friend in need
So why should who be a friend indeed

Ban Assault Weapons In 2017 - Part2

This epidemic re: murderous love affair perfervid
with gruesome morbid 
fixation allowing, enabling and providing terrifying 
   trappings, whence Pandora out the lid
anger loosed by gun toting recorded by hid
dee us aide de camp per grim reaper 
   milling crowd, each bewildered person stunned viz satanic grid
loosed bullets ensnare coterie upping ante bid
   daring pernicious fare thee well odiously off loaded 
   per incendiary fiery maelstrom to mega death count added.
Suicide bombardier slakes thirst aims at billeted soiree
with deadly precision, and spray painting human innards 
   congregated engaged groupon people), with egregious pay
ment for exaggerated slight mowing down, a slew - nay
soon to be lifeless victims unaware - delivering may 
hem to anonymous hunter a cannibal as well 
family and survivors, who lay
   down their sorrows, which bring revulsion and gray 
obsolescence of faith in mankind to fray.
Death be not proud, nor ought airtime be allocated to these 
heinous cavalier avengers foe tee eight-hour special (proffers 
   twitchy finger itching to squeeze
especial easy access to sophisticated high caliber compact 
   offspring family affair sport doth please
manifesting prize pride killing machine owners 
   posed as stonewall Jackson frieze
rapaciously with so much ease
lethal gimcrackery cutlasses incite epidemic violence as disease.
Sorrow soulful songs sung by the likes of death cab for cutie or goo
goo dolls in tandem with foo 
fighting beastie boys pay homilies whence homage grew 
to grateful dead nobody knew
fetishistic martyrs wannabe set sights of sister and mew
sic cull doobie brothers of their simian species with no sorrow to rue.

On a Maniac

I’m a maniac.
So is everyone  
Or they are just dull—by default.
I’ve always been excited 
About something or the other—all my life.

I was, for instance, a cricket maniac once,
Swinging the bat,
Though I didn’t swing well at all;
And watching matches day in day out.
But match-fixing dampened my spirits 
And the media reports proved an effective antidote.

Currently, I’m a poetry maniac.
My poems sometimes have traces 
Of pacifist mania, or purist mania, 
Or sometimes a political mania.
Thus, poetry for me is a mania matrix.

Now that I can write a poem, 
Good or bad, on any theme,
People, especially my kith and kin,
Avoid me nowadays,
As though I was a pest or plague.
They fear:
I may put any of them in a poem
And post it, too.
Once, I made an in-law the theme of a poem.
And ever since,
We have not been on speaking terms.
I wrote on my spouse 
And our relationship took a different turn.

I wrote good things 
On a pet cat or a doggy,
Which they could not understand,
Let alone appreciate.
I wrote on the rose in my garden 
And before I could publish, 
She did perish!

I wrote on my best friend
And he did appreciate.
Another on a bosom friend,
Whose whereabouts are still unknown!

The leaders I write in praise of
Are all dead and gone;
And so can’t hear me.
Those who live 
And whom I invariably censure 
Won’t hear me.
I won’t praise leaders living—on principle.
It may be too early, you know.

A coterie of readers, in my homeland and abroad,
Do read my poems and compliment me, 
But are a microscopic minority.

Still, I write--
Because I’m a poetry maniac!

***
Won III Prize in the Poetry Contest entitled "Mania," sponsored by Lewis Raynes, November 8, 2017.
© Ram R. V.  Create an image from this poem.

Coterie Part One

Here I am
Opening a new finesse
Creating a rapport of mercurial genre
From nadir to zenith
I never thought the labyrinthine of searching would never end
The demise of one long ago
Propinquity would never come close
Yet amidst a facade
A reprieve
In the quintessence silence I can breathe
Savior faire becomes poignant
As the genesis holds out its hand
Showing a viable paradigm of which I can now stand
A liaison from utopian will always emanate with levity
That's incongruous
It is esoteric and simultaneously profound
The eyes are opaque
Plausible to deduce by an epitome using extraneous cliches
There is a diaphanous window of not mundane deference
Containing altruism
Adopting protean as a force
Ignoring platitude on a plate of empathy
Fires of cajole
Follow the paragon
They bring inimical hubris and footsteps in nuance
Flames of apocryphal are flamboyant to a naive soul
By Christy Teas

Waltz

Coterie Waltz dancers
step on step off an back 
flatter to twist in circles
blend each hand on a rack
shoulder's supple a rhyme
show light th' eyes capture
a world of wonder an lime
slides th' dance an nurture
tending speed an laughter
tripled spins chandeliers crystals
adios e're say to d'er flawless scheme
no doubt faultless in thou dream
how i wish to build my own theme
an dance just as you just gleamed

Coterie Part Two

The illicit flames of cajole will wane like an impetuous act of wind.
Annul with impervious aplomb
Waxing perspicacious avenues
Clearing the nebulous
The schism extricate judicious clarity
Vicarious envoy
Omnious stance
Intrinsic string of which I now belong accrues each dawn
Tenable apotheosis oracular
Aberrant paths engage in the light as the nocturnal recividist abated
The diaphanous window capitulated to alloy
Congential precedence gives prerogative by inveterate enigma
Tangible motif clings
Precarious simplicity carry ubiquitous propensity
Equanimity and audacity interchange
Swrod for Sword
Faux Pas to be no more
Impeccable prowess on inimitable wings
To be cognizant is to see
Rendezvous at the fete
Its adjacent to everything
Magnanimous in all things
Taciturn to the ludicrous
Anithetical of perdition
Verbatim by the imbued
Repertoire 9f the genesis
By Christy Teas

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