Best Discretionary Poems


Striving For Political Correctness

Striving for Political Correctness

By Elton Camp

It would just be the end
If by words we do offend.
There’s the devil to be paid
If we call a spade a spade.

“Vertically challenged” means short.
“Horizontally challenged,” a fat sort.
“Nondiscretionary fragrance” means we stink.
“Living impaired” means your’re dead I think.

“Cerebrally challenged” and you are plain dumb.
“Hispanic” and it is Mexico that you come from.
“Niceness deprived” tells that you are mean.
As “oppressor-to-be” a young boy can be seen.

“Follicularly challenged” guys really are bald.
“Gay” is what males who hump men are called.
The “residentially flexible” will live out on the street.
“Nontraditional success” and a poor man you meet.

“Economically maximized” describes one rich.
“Economically marginalized” do live in a ditch.
“Visually challenged” is the blind guy you see.
“Reality challenged” people are crazy as can be.

“Locationally challenged” folks are those lost.
“Unjust self-esteem reduction” criticism’s cost.
A “maintenance portal” is the name for a manhole.
While “sexually dysfunctional” is a perverted soul.

The garbage collector is a “sanitation engineer.”
“Petroleum transfer specialist” pumps gas I fear.
The “termination specialist” other people does kill.
“Body entrepreneur” describes a prostitute if you will.

“Factually unencumbered” are the ignorant folk.
“Alternative answer” means an error was spoke.
If lazy, then we aren’t “motivationally disposed.”
“Discretionary fragrance” and perfume is nosed.

The “chronologically gifted” are just old.
“Rustically inclined” is redneck I’m told.
“Vertically gifted” people describes those who are tall.
“Client of the correctional system” a prisoner we call.

“Cerebrally gifted” people are those who are smart.
Be “metabolically challenged,” and dead thou art.
“Nonwaged” and it is a job you do lack.
“Amorally gifted” and a crook you track.

“Knowledge conveyor” speaks of the teacher.
“Personality repressor” describes the preacher.
With a “conceptual conflict” you are not sure.
The “under-alert” just some sleep will cure.

Now we are expected to play the “correctness” game.
Which means we call almost nothing by its true name.
In keeping with that, you see,
This poem is correct as can be.
© Elton Camp  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: discretionary, funnypeople, people,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Once Upon a Time Lived I

To nature's norms have I complied -
I laughed, I cried, I lived. I tried.

I'd like to think in aftermath 
There's more to my existence path. 
I paid the procreation dues, 
Dear offspring and their offspring too. 
My children opened up my eyes 
Far beyond me, myself and I. 
The grandkids taught me quite a bit - 
There's more to golden age than knit. 

No shutters to wondering mind, 
Just open it and you will find - 
In brighter hue the greener grass 
Is on our side in front of us. 
Power is not how much but how 
To stay aboard the flight of now. 
Retired bliss converts the course -
Discretionary time to pause. 

Smelling the roses is a must 
As flower fanfare fading fast. 
Hunger for knowledge, free to sate, 
But wisdom's pride is heavyweight. 
(No known tip-off to neutralize -
To shed the weights and keep the wise).
The all time norm by which I vow - 
Not there nor then but here and now. 

To nature's norms have I complied -
Once upon a time lived I! 


February 27, 2023
Categories: discretionary, life,
Form: Rhyme

Celebrating Independence

Celebrating Independence


                                             Servitude 

                                   Subordinate, Contingent

                          Humbling, Depending, Condemning

                 Unknown, Uncertainty, Independence, Autonomy

                         Freeing, Reigning, Decision-making

                              Discretionary, Sovereignty

                                             Liberty






																																				Sunshine Williams
Categories: discretionary, nostalgia,
Form: Diamante

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Etatsemaj Format

Etatsemaj Poems are shaped like an hourglass. The top and bottom halves are seven lines each, linked by a narrow constriction, allowing the sands of verse to run through, giving a total of 15 lines. It may be on any subject and rhyming is optional. Discretionary spaces may be inserted to maintain the hourglass form.
	The poem style is named after its inventor, James Tate (spelled backwards). 

What is a poem that we should boast?
What poem styles do we like most?
Is it the meter or the rhythm?
Must it bear big thoughts?
Or the sound of music?
Must  it  rhyme?
All the time?
What?
Imagery.
Metaphors.
Allusion, similes.
Some like  free verse.
For good verse first rehearse.
A good beginning holds the reader;
A superb ending will never be forgotten.
© James Tate  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: discretionary, poems, poetry, poets,
Form: Shape

Suicide of An Idol

A woman of mystery
Dressed in red
The blood of jealous women's misery
Her mouth is discretionary
Her words planned perfectly
Others fix their mouths loosely
But with her details, she's choosey
She only said
What she wants spread
Her stories are wildfire
The gossip about her never tires
She sees it all but is blind
To admirers and liars
Her eyes downcast 
As though others are sire
But it's obvious she's a Queen
The streets are her Empire
She walks with so much power
Her strength turns real ones into cowards
She's comfortable in solitude
But can mingle in bursts like spring showers
Watering their minds,
Changing attitudes
Leaving the destitute
In gratitude
Though she's a Queen,
Her greatest joy is servitude

Oh, but won't hate make waves
Even those the Queen helped
Can be swayed
She was never forceful
She won't persuade them to stay
She'll still be here
After they've strayed
And she'll welcome them back
As though it didn't cause her dismay
Though she personally removed the swords 
After being betrayed
See, perfection was her greatest imperfection
She mirrored the worst of other's projections
She should have detached
But she allowed the belief 
That it was her who needed correction
Blinding those with her light
Wasn't her intention
So she dimmed her light in redemption
Oh, it made the shadows dance,
But in turn revoked her ascension
The realest one
Undone
By misconceptions

A haggard with no secrets
Dressed in black
Telling a story of regret
Of mourning a death
Her mouth is crooked
From the addictions picked up
Trying to regain a high
That she used to feel all the time
All that's the same,
Are her downcast eyes
But now they seek coins on the street
Not humility
And her outbursts are strategic,
To appear crazy
When you give them something to talk about,
It makes their lips idle
It wasn't until she consciously spiraled
That she spared herself from
Gossip, slander and libel
What a paradoxical method of survival
The homicide of a rival
And suicide of an idol
Categories: discretionary, anti bullying, betrayal, depression,
Form: Free verse

Etatsemaj Format

Etatsemaj Poems are shaped like an hourglass. The top and bottom halves are seven lines each, linked by a narrow constriction, allowing the sands of verse to run through, giving a total of 15 lines. It may be on any subject and rhyming is optional. Discretionary spaces may be inserted to maintain the hourglass form.
	The poem style is named after its inventor, James Tate (spelled backwards). 

What is a poem that we should boast?
What poem styles do we like most?
Is it the meter or the rhythm?
Must it bear big thoughts?
Or the sound of music?
Must  it  rhyme?
All the time?
What?
Imagery.
Metaphors.
Allusion, similes.
Some like  free verse.
For good verse first rehearse.
A good beginning holds the reader;
A superb ending will never be forgotten.
© James Tate  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: discretionary, poems, poetry, poets,
Form: Shape


Nora Aunor

By George P. Lumayag
https://georgelumayag.weebly.com

The Super Snow Moon lighted our bleeding hearts,
That we’re staging the National Arts Month in February;
It reminded us to the king like the powerful wolf 
Who defaced the rules of artistry
That he butted his unverified thoughts 
To the heroine’s genuine and overconfident performances of art 
That surpassed beyond a national badge of honor.

Aunor’s highly praised body of work inspires us
And her humble legendary origin conquers the borders
Of music, television, film and theater. 

In our digital age, her extraordinary achievements
In various international film festivals crown her
As world-class actress.

Her artistic and brilliant talents exceeded the elements
Of being the National Artist, 
But a thunder and lightning of judgment 
Seemed like a twist from a daylight to Super Blood Wolf Moon Eclipse,
That disgraced the discretionary power of the king,
Who included undesirable factors other than artistry
And unceremoniously deleted her honor.


The resounding assertions of the noble souls 
May have figuratively incarnated the national icon,
May have patriotically penned Nora Aunor’s magnificent works, 
And may have glorified back the artistic contributions of a genius,
Who shall have been lionized for being... 
The people’s National Artist!
Categories: discretionary, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Know Your Rights

Outside the pearly gates
a billionaire is refused entry by St Peter

Why am I not allowed in 

You already had a lifetime of heaven 
whilst others lived in hell

Yes I did have a fantastic heavenly life 
what difference does that make 
Just how many times can you be in heaven 

Only once it’s a permanent state of bliss

So what’s the problem 

Hmm I see your point, ok go ahead 
it’s all discretionary anyway 
Penthouse suite do

is it overlooked

Next!

Poor wretch behind was listening 

St Peter says so you’ve had a life of hell

Actually no wasn’t quite as bad as hell!

By
David Kavanagh
Categories: discretionary, allegory, heaven, rights,
Form: Free verse

Sicuti Est Naturae

English Translation

BOOK 1


Proem
Nature, as one to another it seems bad omens,
envois, at entering at this stage of preliminary
dictates our way of thinking, worship saddens;
He, who follows many years, having mastered
what can only be dedicated once only, he too,                              5
Lucretius sculptures and engraves upon given
to exonerate the few, prevents who'd challenge,
that I, for living too his death shall be rectified.
More can be disguised of this natural habitat; 
arbitrary affections him this beginning life you                          10 
carrying on his works by the modern means 
following, and follow him like a glide-bearing
hero of the past, whose realm would imagine
selflessness would caress upon many  pages
upon the sense of denial to repent against the,                             15
means of depicting heroes do, when go fetch 
It would throughout time and space, fetch far.
 
Forage is to study, my works of unforeseeable
futures, are his so clearly seen to be absorbed
Intention is by virtue to find truth good reason.                          20
I would amble on covalent, being discretionary  
by the term matter, to abstain willingly enough, 
madness which follows from many years work.
Thereby, depicting madness, the living memory
Of one, who so focused on himself, for them,                            25
appraisals which help him get over what some,
common folk call insane, there is nothing bad
sad about getting away from all of this world.

If I am to be looked at in the same vane aspect,
Non existing would have travelled all his books                        30
He’d have noticed nothing, disclaim having read 
Giving praise alone that unknown lies imminent
Whose stature is the living memory of a mentor.
Categories: discretionary, 3rd grade, absence,
Form: Free verse

Depression

depression, it seems to be discretionary
is it ever really necessary?
to kick yourself while you're down?
slap your head and knock off your crown?
 
is it really sadness or an excuse to feel
do you put yourself there just to prove you're real?
snapping back and forth like a case of bi-polar
like when you've finally felt love and then somebody stole her
 
it's all in these hills and valleys
when you hit your low your positivity rallies
but these rallies just don't last long
so you put your sad words into another sad song
 
and you never really know whats wrong
where you can go for help, or where you really belong
and your anger grows the more you lose control
when you're already slippin and it slows your roll
 
and when the sadness pushes you below
the feeling then begins to slowly dull your glow
and inside it really hurts your heart
you're trying not explode as your falling apart
 
and then, just like a sprint or a dart
you run as fast as you can, just to end up at the start.
Categories: discretionary, depression,
Form: Free verse

Discretionary

Whenever we go
Life must go up and running
Whatever we do.
Categories: discretionary, character, devotion, judgement, motivation,
Form: Haiku

Premium Member Memories of the Morrow

Our doings by night and day,
Are recollections on the morrow.
Though we've neatly tucked away,
They emerge, bringing joy or sorrow.

To retain them in our store,
Would require considerable skill.
Albeit we may try to ignore,
We review each vivid particular, still.

Could we suppose them as asleep,
They would become, as one, blind.
But from our psyche they creep,
Doting that we won't mind.

So be vigilant in your affairs,
Their memories oft bring sadness.
Conveying to you inordinate cares,
For your discretionary madness.
© Tom Wright  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: discretionary, people
Form: Lyric

Autumnal Equinox

Early morning blue sunny skies askew
 turn to white grays on piggyback 
 once light breezes that blew 
 gentle in and out the trees comeback
now race wildly out to the sea renewed.

The colors with their brilliant reflective glow
 edge toward a harvest moon and celestial equator
 rising, falling, lilting in discretionary phase flow
 wavering, clinging to the shortening day curators
lingering on equality of night day summer-winter throws.

An ecliptic sun moving in south-easterly directions
 marking time and space and revolution years
 inching hurriedly a pause for momentary corrections
 not holding back or hesitating regardless of joy or tears
on a chartered course through seasonal deflections.

Returning to the calendar of September days
 swiftly moving from month to year and decades
 throughout wonderment and marvelings of man at play
 history repeated forever on parade
the autumnal equinox marks the years and the days.
© DM Babbit  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: discretionary, autumn, sun,
Form: Quintain (Sicilian)

Premium Member Butterfly

BUTTERFLY

Fly O butterfly fly in the clear and sunny day
Fly about in freedom in your haphazard way.
Fly onto colorful flowers and plants giving sustenance away
Fly as only you know how and live to see and fly another day.

Such a creature that you are and so very delicately made
A marvel of creation clothed in colors which do persuade.
What a contrast there is while you're motionless to that when you're in flight
A splendid example of nature to which all the credit is due allowing this sight.

Although you have your own season and have much with which to display
You're only here for a short time and like to make the most of it each day.
With angelic-like wings of splendor it seems you fly around effortlessly
From one area to another wherever your discretionary whim takes thee.

And you have wings that are mostly poised upright behind you when in rest
While those of your kindred are but lowly hung and only widespread at best.
It also occurs to me you're more refined and sensitive by birthright than your relation
As you're the one who avoids flying headlong into objects and get the most adulation.

You are a creature of metamorphosis or the product and result of transforming change
Could this be the reason why that beauteous form of yours covers such a broad range?
For in the life-span which has been allotted to you a rare beauty you've now become
An exemplar of harmonious existence with nature that is evidently a hobby for some.

In the whole wide world there's hardly a creature that bears any resemblance to you
And it's only in your rather less noble relation the moth there's some semblance true.
You're verily also a creature that appears to revel in broad daylight
Though your cousin is mainly one who usually abounds in the night.

Fly O butterfly fly and may you find your happy mate
Fly to where love takes you and wandering does sate.
Fly all around to every place in your naturally free and delightful state
Fly as only you know how and live to share with all that eventful fate.

________________________
Categories: discretionary, beautiful, butterfly, celebration, fate,
Form: Rhyme

Love Unspoken

What is love?

A visual reverence of well-intended discretionary words,
some ritualistic veneration of the beat of heart and soul,
a manufactured display of hunger and amourousness 
an embattled vehemence in thirst quenching lust,
the renderings of innate ensuing warmth and trust,
the disquietude of hope-filled dreams and fantasies surfacing,
a fervidness burning the skin, blushing the face, pounding throbs,
that perpetual effervescence that draws one to another
lost in the eye of the unspoken word of love simply being all it is.

For Lu Loo's contest, free verse on love, using the following words:
reverence veneration hunger
amourousness vehemence thirst
disquietude fervidnness
perpetual effervescence
2/7/19
© DM Babbit  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: discretionary, love,
Form: Free verse
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Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry

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