Best Flapped Poems
A perfumed breeze with summer lavender
Shapeless smoked clouds had come and gone
Through verdant valleys I strolled along
Honeycombed hues warmed the new dawn
A golden butterfly glided in the distance
I just stood still and watched his flight
From one flower to another
His flapped wings fluttered
I could not let him out of my sight
I wondered 'bout this blissful beauty.
Towards the riverbank
I watched him roam
If I could only fly away with him
to destinations always unknown
Imagine what places he has been
what many glories he has seen
A perfect waterfall tumbling
into a clear blue pond
Wet dewdrops glimmering 'pon the grass
as the sleepy sun starts to rise
A doe with her fawn
taking those fragile first steps
bees buzzing by
swarming back to their hive
I watched in amazement
in awe of his grace
I floated along
as he flittered away
We hovered together through
a path between twin lakes
then and there I kissed him
before he silently slipped away
That's the last time I saw him
cuz now stone towers have been built
Nature's been destroyed and
the butterflies have been laid to rest
Silent, she slips from her stronghold’s security,
safely tucked high on the cliff in her nest.
Cautious, she stays in the shadows afforded her,
sorrowful, hesitant, missing the rest.
Her parents and siblings had sought out the sunshine,
flying the open air, learning their craft.
Soaring and diving, they basked in the currents;
she, feeling poorly, by chance, had stayed back.
Sounds like a cannon had rung out above her;
shrieking and screaming, she watched the first fall.
Caught in the open with no chance for cover,
savagely, swiftly, death came for them all.
Hugging the hillside, she used the thick foliage,
bobbing and weaving, avoiding the limbs,
calling on instincts she knew not inside her,
fine-tuned adjustments through flexes and trims.
Cover was ending; the ocean awaited her.
Her heart was racing, her mind strangely clear.
Mother had taught her to seek out the currents;
a warm water pocket meant updrafts were near.
Tucking, she dove as she flew in the open,
a bullet herself, towards shiny blue glass.
Braking so subtly, just at the last moment,
she shot across wave tops, dizzily fast.
There! A small change in the water beneath her.
Pulling up hard, she flapped skyward and soared.
Where she was headed lay unknown before her,
on past the sunset to some distant shore.
I flew over Bryce Canyon my wings fully spread in a gentle glide
as I marveled at the view below. It wasn't the first time but it always
felt like it. I flapped my wings to ascend even further and consume
even more of the landscape. The weather chiseled rock that always
reminded me of sandcastles children sculpted at the seashore.
I loved the fragrance of the pine trees that neatly grew amongst the
rocks and the white and golden blend of colors that jutted here and there
against an ever changing sky. I suppose if they could see me - humans
would gasp at the sight of an Angel and me well I still gasp at all that
God created for the pleasure of mankind.
22~12~2014
With Love
Maurice Yvonne
I caught a butterfly a week ago.
Her wings had painted eyes of indigo,
Surrounded by a ring as white as snow.
So pretty I just had to let her know.
She flapped her wings and put on quite a show,
Then kissed my cheek before I let her go.
I sure was glad I stopped to say hello.
Daniel Turner
Angels flapped their wings
Stardust fell from blessed sky
Poetry flourished!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
21 OCTOBER 2014
"Love Me Or Hate Me" ~ Says the Limerick
I am only five lines written for fun
Mocking someone with foolish words of pun
Love 'em or hate 'em
You praise or condemn
A poetry form some call "hit and run"
Some think of me as inconsequential
To the haughty I am nonessential
It's a thought I refute
And would gladly dispute
Cuz nothing I say is confidential
I read Jan's limericks about Tess Tickle
But did you know Tess spent her last nickle
Buying new underwear
Cause she hadn't a spare
She kept leaking in some sort of trickle
Tess had a good friend with the name of Neve
Cheated by keeping aces up her sleeve
She thought she was smart
Until she got caught
That taught her it doesn't pay to decieve
And then there was the one they called Maisy
Made faces that caused her to look crazy
One day her eye got stuck
And she looked like a duck
So now everyone calls her Miss Daisy
There once was a gal whose name was Mary
Wore wings pretending she was a fairy
Then I swear on my word
She flapped 'em like a bird
And started singing like a canary
Heard them tell about a gal named Sally
Made money hanging out in the alley
But then she got greedy
With those who were seedy
It was curtains in her grand finale
I used to know a chesty lass named Pam
She had to tote them around in a pram
Then had an operation
A booby castration
I heard she now goes by the name of 'Sam'
Did you hear about the one called Yvette
She can't remember and started to fret
It made me want to cry
I can't figure out why
Umm.. umm.. I'm too old and tend to forget
assorted like the washing on its lines
the words appeared along my way
in bunches of neat paragraphs
they briskly flapped into my mind
still dripping with those concepts they
must have been soaked in for a while
I gladly felt them touching me
and liked their affluent display
of shapes and textures manifold
enjoyed the pleasant freshness
of the smell they carried off all
seasons’ winds spiced with ideas
time passing by would watch me
stealthily try on this one or that so
in their context rinsed with thought
to cool the feverish qualms of my
keen heart and growingly my soul
seems to be draped in purified attire
He tried to fly
flapped his wings
High above him
a dark duvet
drizzled sadness
Only yesterday,
or was it last week
his wings and feet
carried him
little raven
didn't remember
Carry me
carry me
he squeaked
to his sorrowful parents
We have to go
they said
hipping hither
and thither
He hid his head
under his useless wings
and waited
and wailed
***
September 17, 2017
7th place in contest: In The Dark
sponsor: Russell Sivey
The winged god Zephyrus, handsome and graceful
gently flapped his wings, gliding across the meadows.
His eyes fell on naked youths splashing at play
in the sparkling water of a deep wide pool, sheltered
by willow trees, where fragrant flowers bloomed.
He slowed his flight and looked with lust and admiration.
On the green grass he espied a tender youth;
athletic and beautiful was this young Spartan prince,
scantily dressed, playing his flute with nimble touch.
Zephyrus’ heart fluttered and leapt; he could not help
falling deeply in love with beautiful Hyacinth.
Little did he know that he was already being
courted by Apollo! Out of sight he lay in wait
then made his move and sought him out at sunset.
He approached him and with golden words he tried
to tempt his heart, but all in vain. Though impressed,
Hyacinth remained firm and faithful to Apollo.
That night, Zephyrus many restless hours spent
alone, ignoring Chloris’s sexual charms.
Entangled thoughts engulfed his frenzied mind,
jealousy clawed at his heart, tore deep within.
Dawn arrived, and bleary eyed he hastened forth
towards the hills, in search of calm respite.
Alas, it was not meant to be; envy reared its head
with poisoned fangs that sent him reeling mad.
Emotions changed from red to green, and in despair
he flew high up, aimlessly circling in the sky.
Then all at once, upon a verdant field below,
he caught sight of Hyacinth and Apollo
playfully engaged in discus throwing.
The green-eyed monster lunged and with swift intent
Zephyrus blew a gust of wind that swerved the discus
from its route and it hit Hyacinth on the head
resulting in instant death. Jealousy prevailed.
Furious yet heartbroken, Apollo held Hyacinth
tightly in his arms, blood dripping from his temple;
and with one last act of love he changed that blood
into a most beautiful flower called Hyacinth.
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Contest: Epic Only
Sponsor: Skat A
Placed 3rd
I met a Hippie walking down the street.
She had long hair, big eyes.
Wide-bottomed trousers, orange-red,
Covered in an intricate pattern
Of strange designs, flapped round her feet
And from her shoulders over a flowered blouse
Hung a black satin something
With bright green frills on the edges.
From her neck dangled to her breast an emblem
In a circle – a unity of Love and Peace.
I passed by her and she glanced up.
I smiled...she smiled...and we moved on.
A smile can work wonders.
The couch and chairs were empty
And we sat comfortably on the carpet.
The candle threw an eerie light
Which came to nought in the depths
Of the room’s shadowy corners.
An odour of incense drifted around us
And a distorted candle flame
Was reflected in my cup of coffee.
We spoke of art, painting and poetry
Treading on the romantic,
Passing through hazes of religion:
A mixture of love, knowledge and mystery,
Probing into the eluding outlets of LSD,
The restful release of meditation,
The yearning of youth, disillusions of life,
The roots of joy and depression,
The understanding of oneself.
Smoke rose in bluish transparency.
The ring on her finger was big and it glimmered;
She opened a poetry book at random
And began reading from Tagore.
I was silent. Her voice was soft.
And when she stopped we said not a word.
There was no need – we both understood.
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Contest: Any Poem#22
Sponsor: Poet Destroyer A
Placing: 4th
1#
Brewed tea
Wife and myself
Nothing between us
2#
He was metamorphosed
Into a frog
When his wife had left him
3#
I needed
A lonely woman
Thousand years back
4#
She shivered
In yellow sun
Struck by her coyness
5#
God travels
With three suitcases
One for me
6#
I kissed
Her frostiness
And my lips turned icebergs
7#
The bed
Gets embarrassed
At our nakedness
8#
Her hands
Stopped me
To pick evenings
9#
We two rested
In a cave of Kundalini
Behind the waterfall
10#
The alien woman
Travelled six moons
To deliver her baby in a burial ground
11#
An eagle swoops
On a field –mouse
Tables of wedding
12#
The woman kissed me
I felt her hollow ribs
As if in a spring dream
13#
The woman’s hair
Struck by a gale
Made waterfalls
14#
My wife locked
Me one fine evening
In my neighbour’s hole
15#
The rats are away
When mice take in
My wife’s clammy face
16#
The summer rain
In exasperation
Took wings to raid the moon
17#
Lolo my wife
Her green sleek steps
Thundered an innocent fly
18#
In the dead of night
God made two wives
One for me one for my neighbour
19#
My neighbour’s wife
Delivered a child
When I was asleep
20#
The woman said goodbye
And I took a fish for dinner
I mistook it for my wife
21#
My wife is a canvas
Where I paint
My forebodings
22#
A painter’s apprentice
In sheer foolishness
daubed in red my wife’s rear-view
23#
A squirrel saw my wife
And in haste
Lost her guava
24#
I was caught in neighbour’s bedroom
By my wife last summer
I lost my glasses
25#
A wolf entered the graveyard
Unannounced
And annoyed my wife
26#
Sarah my wife
Lumbering
Dizzy commuters
27#
Sarah wed me
And in brief forgetfulness
Greeted my neighbour
28#
A tiger ate Sarah my wife
It happened by accident
The tiger knows
29#
Morning bell
Wake up call
I want to sleep
30#
Pola my pet fly
Fouled things up
She ate my wife’s breakfast
31#
My dog Pintu
Hydrophobia
I set him free on my wife’s posterior
32#
Eons ago a butterfly
Gave birth to my wife
Now, a caterpillar
33#
A hard slap
Stammering
Hurricane Sarah will win
34#
You have gathered enough winters
Woman sighs
Leave one for me
35#
The woman flapped her wings
To clouded mountaintops
Silky as white
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
A bird/bee with head-mug, on one side of fence, tail/wump on other.
A mugwump sitting on a fence,
smug as he can be.
His mug was writting a reference,
and his wump was hanging free.
When mugwump would lift his head,
a flight he tried to make.
When he flapped his wings o'lead,
his wump got stuck in the gate.
Mugwump is a mighty mess,
hanging from that rail.
As a pilot he forgot to test,
the windsock for the gusty gale.
If a situation should arise,
where you think he's gotton free.
It wouldn't be good to surmise,
that mugwumps are great big bees.
If you consort with bees and birds,
the words should set you free.
But, if you don't watch your words,
a mugwump, you will turn out to be.
We rode out of Camelot, sun arising,
five knights led by Galahad all bold and true,
on a quest to slay a marauding dragon,
at Arthur's request.
T'was noon when we discovered the dragons lair,
and kept a safe distance at the forests edge,
then crept forward surrounding the cave entrance
and hell was unleashed.
He snorted and spewed his lethal bursts of flame
and then flapped his enormous wings to escape,
we moved forward cautiously drawing our swords,
he died a quick death.
We then rode back galloping at breakneck speed
with good news of victory, King would be pleased,
I had in my possession proof of the kill,
a sharp dragons tooth.
Written on the 8th July 2020
For Pick A Title, Vol 19-4 Sapphic Stanzas- Poetry Contest
Theme Chosen, Number 1, Dragons Tooth.
Sponsored By Edward Ibeh.
Before spring came, in late February
to the blooming and jolly hills
I ran, breathing heavily and frantically,
touching the perfumed blossoms
of a solitary, old cherry tree;
and underneath it I sat writing poetry
that hadn't a perfect rhyme and beat!
Weren't my skills marred by imperfections?
Canaries and red-breasted robins
flew down and rested on my outstretched legs;
perusing my lines to spot their names,
and when they did, they flapped their wings in gladness!
I could have imagined their joyful words,.
if only they had acquired the gift of speech,
and deeper in their thoughts I would have reached:
to dispel the myth that they had no feelings...
After my short poem was completed,
I reached for my harmonica to play my favorite classic tune;
and being surprised by the paleness of the fading moon,
I dedicated that happy melody to her not to let her despair:
by waving my hand to make her farewell less sad, while I whispered,
" Silent moon, eternal companion of every poet,
what's beyond the realm of this universe?...
Tell us more of those invisible suns and planets! "
Before spring came to the dormant valley,
the mountains' peaks allowed the sun to melt their snows,
to create gushing torrents to feed its water to the dry and cracked soil,
which needed rain instead of harmful frost;
and I drank the freshest water and washed my sweaty face,
while fighting off the bees' stubborn rivalry!
That spring has come again to dress herself with incredible splendor,
and this discontent and wishful heart desires nothing more than being there!
My theme is: Happiness In Childhood
I accidentally let one loose
A ripe for roasting, fattened goose!
The ganders in Orwellian mode
Honked out the news in gaggled code.
Rash Farmer Giles, blood red with rage
Would not be easy to assuage
And goslings flapped their wings in fear
As if to say ‘Get out of here!’
The rooster crowed with all his might
To publicize my sorry plight
And terror-stricken piglets squealed
As rifle cocked, he left the field.
I turned and fled: there’d be no grace
For farmer Giles had picked up pace.
But then, a crack, a curse ; a whopper!
Old Farmer Giles had come a cropper!
This close escape I did embrace
For he had run a wild goose chase!
And as I raised a thankful sigh
A cackling form went flying by!
Competition entry : I accidentally let one loose : Charles Messina 22 July N/A
Applicable Not Applicable Contests Poetry Contest : sponsored by Richard Lamoureux
19.05.19