Best Famed Poems
little Rock
Doves at my feet
Imploring eyes watch
as I eat and I will share my
lunch with you not
shoo you away
like others do
for I recognize
your tam'ed nature
Am greatly pained by your
fallen stature Dovecotes kept since
Ancient times Now you're persecuted
for our crimes Considered dirty flying vermin
Might I suggest a different sermon Giving Praise
To Thee Dear Dove our oldest symbol of Peace and Love
in times of war you have served us well For our men you flew
and fell Honored couriers meritorious saving lives on wings glorious
not just for your flight to flourish But by your eggs and meat to
nourish Been kept for sport and even pet Pigeons are Doves we do
forget sporting the same flute like coo and
head bobbing meet-cute "How do you do?"
************************ One and The same as famed in fable ********
Ordained therein by King Eagle
"...your name shall be used, dear Dove
as long as the world shall last, for Love" Of
course of course we are all mortal yet you are
birds above and moral Models of monogamy and
doting parents Bonded family and lucky for us City
dwellers amid the chaos you little fellers happily our
Birds of Peace break bread with us on our streets
In The Name Of Dove!
Often women dream about famed lover sweet
While stars shine above mused quiet meets
Coded notes given neath party arbor
Eager hands which cause fresh ardor
These alter truth while love's fight wanes
Breed venom, fuels anger, solid bonds drain
Rings' blest oaths rival heavy chain
Death comes swift where wrong ideas start
False charm tears unity apart
After dawns first light sleep ought cease
Madam casts aside bogus scene; finds peace
12/20/2017
Fem Bogstaver
Hosted By: Rhoda Tripp
...this was flipping hard! lol
THE JESTER
Jester jingles
with madcap medusa-bells,
dressed in melodic-motley uniform.
A sea of foamy frills
frame the famed renaissance storyteller,
a creature feature
of phantasm for frightened children.
His ghost-white face
with comedic war paint.
Highly educated,
acts the fool,
preaching to the pompadour.
Folly finds the frolicking ear
of the entertained king,
even at the news of sinking ships.
The king’s delighted,
as balls lollygag around his throne room,
and pins dance before his eyes.
Mesmerized, hypnotized,
spirals spry and smiling.
Claps his cacophonous hands.
The puppet court amplifies the sound.
The buffoon’s very wise,
buried behind his makeup.
His strings
control the crown.
Royally screws the court
with tasteless remarks
and they bow over in laughter.
In the backroom formulates his investment plan.
Jester jingles,
of drama and lies,
of liberties and surprise.
8/3/2017
Kai Neumann’s Jester Contest
1st Place
Donning splendiferous landscapes stretching for miles,
A culture that aptly prides, in bold, welcoming smiles;
A thriving land of islands~ an archipelago evincing awe,
A resplendence of nature, an exclamation of hurrah.
Sandy beaches embrace realms of pristine coastline,
Harboring lush foliage, embodying sublimity divine,
Of marine life, corals, reveling warmth of idyllic clime,
Reminiscent of paradise, of placidity, stilled in time.
Fun loving, amiable, proud tradition extolling grace,
Quaint, yet modern, is the vibrant vibe of this place;
Of museums, antiques, art galleries, buzzing cafe,
Of hotels, casinos, of famed sunsets on Manila Bay.
Luzon, the Visayas, Mindanao~ gems of the blue sea,
Living in tranquility, projecting utter beauty and glee;
Islands of hospitality, homeland of a privileged few,
A magnificent portrait, upon sea-canvas nature drew.
Philippines~ an acclaimed, lauded, pearl of the Orient,
Rich in diverse culture, her allure citizens augment,
Pulsating rhythms of hearts and souls, worthy of praise;
A treasure preserved, revered since the ancient days.
The gals are besotted with Roger,
he's famed for the size of his todger,
they pay for his time
(he charges a dime) -
he's ninety but not an old codger.
No need of Viagra in force
as Roger's ancestors were Norse
(and vikings were known
for getting a bone) -
his resume says, 'Intercourse.'
I listened to the tires on rainy streets.
My loving cat, breathed melodiously.
Softest purrs, parts of a heaven's orchestra .
A moment dancing on the stage of time.
I do not lock memories, far away.
In my beating heart, time won't hold a sway!
Unlike cold, declared bodies in a morgue.
Into today's breath, they are indeed, forged.
Thus, each moment of my past, a famed Monet!
Never gone, unique like this newborn day!
4/7/2021
~1~
Wild horses, prairies, desert canyons,
Native Indians, brush landscapes
by 'Dean of Western Painters'
known as Olaf Wieghorst.
His contrast boldness,
softened with light
blended hues,
stirred my
heart.
Inspired to capture his moving art,
passion pushed to reproduce his
famed Navaho masterpiece;
every brushstroke chosen
to grasp his canyon,
mother and child
on stone bluff
framed by
rock.
My dream holiday on an Island so far away
I’ve wanted to go there for many a day
‘Kon-Tiki’ film by Thor Heyerdahl caught my eye
Now Easter Island is a destination I dearly want to try
A journey, which would take me over land and sea
But to reach my destination would be a dream for me
Easter Island is located in the Pacific Ocean
I’d need to fly to Santiago de Chile then to Hanga Roa
The Rapa Nui tribe used to inhabit there
No trees are on the Island – isn’t that rare!
At one stage the Island suffered deforestation
This could explain the total devastation
The Island is famed for its archaeological sites
Its monumental statues cause many delights
‘Moai’ are the famous statues with oversized heads
They rest on rock altars ‘Ahu’ their own comfy beds
These incredible stone carvings are heavy and some are very tall
The largest at 86 tonnes would have been a nightmare to haul
To view all the statues I would stay for a day or two
I do hope one day my wish will finally come true
Contest Take a Vacation
Sponsor Lin Lane
02~03~16
There was a young lady called Mae West
Who was famed for the size of her chest
She came down with Flu
Gave a big sneeze 'Atchoo'
And that was the end of her vest
She entertains fantasies
of unicorns and dragons.
And her discerning spirit,
often thinks outside the box.
She is an illusionist,
famed for her vanishing act.
And breaking with tradition,
she chooses how she'll live life.
She weathers stormy outbursts,
resistant to lightning's flame.
And with nothing but a smile,
forms rainbows from drops of rain.
She questions the relevance
of a closed reality.
And seeking enlightenment;
touts spirituality.
The truth forged within her heart,
tests the mettle of your soul.
And seeds of hope germinate,
in the light of her aura.
An inquisitive soul, she
wears innocence as a shawl.
And sparks curiosity,
with her accent of wonder.
There once was a friend of mine,
Who was famed for making wine.
Her visits were great,
As she brought a crate -
But I lost a week each time.
For Francine's Bottle of Wine contest, written 17th June
TIME MACHINE
We always try to build a TARDIS,
in thinking we would look the smartest.
But then, who's time would we travel in,
with a choice for dimensional spin.
A fragrance can take us back in time,
or a perfect shade, or taste of lime.
Our famed music is a time machine,
in compositions from Bach to Queen.
We recognize how to bring time to a halt,
by following our bliss in things we exalt.
New experiences will let us foresee,
advancing in time with our visions to be.
The Hubble is a magical eye on time,
to take the photographs of our one verse rhyme.
A brief look backwards beginning now to then,
or from nothing to something and back again.
Our future is such addictive dope,
we read in tea leaves or horoscope.
We expect we are aware with ESP,
and predict in life what's meant to be.
We're back in time with old photographs,
that mark pasts, in graphic epitaphs.
A sound will transport us to a place,
with one vibration we've moved in space.
We future trek with our imaginations,
because we see forward with our creations.
In our minds eye, we consider and admire,
with envisioned futures of our hearts desire.
By TARDIS, DeLorean, or a Quantum Leap,
Tesseract, CERN, and our Visions in sleep.
Through a Wormhole or the traces of a déjà vu,
the past and the future, are present with you.
By Edlynn Nau
©June 23, 2016
Loki:
Sigyn and Angrboda know their wyrd well
Even the far seeing eye of odin
Does even the all seeing eye have its faults?
The curse of knowledge or forgetfulness perhaps
Angrboda is born of the blood of the volva
She knows well the fates and
wyrd of men and immortals alike
The mother of wolves, my lovely consort
Sigyn my love,ever loyal and in morning
Has resigned herself to the fate of her wyrd
She too burns for revenge against the aesir
For you have transformed one son into a wolf
Only to have him kill his brother Nari
Then to transform poor vali back
Then to despair over his brother's entrails
And to commit an agonizing death
For what crime did my sons do,
Lord Odin as you proclaim yourself judge
Jury and executioner
And for what wrongs did my children
Jorgamundr, Hel, and Fenrir do
They were but kids when you had them
Imprisoned for Half Fashioned prophecies that
were made by three old wise women,
Have they not had their intuitions
misinterpreted before…..
So my children pay for my mistakes
You aesir who claim to be fair
Is this the famed fairness of the aesir
The destruction of my family
Driving us apart
I think that hardly righteous or fair
famed
adored
yet forlorn;
your memories
live
Farewell, MJ. May you find now
the happiness you truly deserved.
You will be missed :(
Summer sunsets o'er majestic Pikes Peak are a wonder to behold.
Unequaled hues gild the western sky in flaming red and gold!
Mere artists will never portray on canvas such a glorious sight.
Magnificent ivory clouds enhance the scene much to my delight!
Embellishing this exquisite panorama with colors all aglow,
Reminds me of the bright hues in paintings by van Gogh!
Soon the sun will sink beyond the towering tors of Pikes Peak.
Ushered in is a mellow moon to make the ebon night less bleak!
Nary a sunset gracing the elegant form of Mount Kilimanjaro,
Shall compare to the painting in the sky that I'll view tomorrow!
Even though famed artists have created masterpieces in the past,
The brush strokes of The Master Artist will never be surpassed!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2014 All Rights Reserved