Best Folly Poems
A coloratura rises
from the suede-edged shape
as the gnarled grande dame
comes to light.. a vision
draped in sweeping evergreen
and a pale cape of kidskin haze -
a beguiling soprano in soft-
focus fools the guileless sunrise
with a diva’s deception --
for in the vaporous golden hour
she can still be breathtaking
the age of change
is beclouded - softened
in gray’s cashmere atmosphere
where blending and bending of
over-ripened perceptions
are smoothed with a dewy smudge..
roughened boughs
and litter-fall is obscured --
unless, you get up close
harsh lines become artfully coy
in the bosom of the pearl mist;
a bedimmed dreamy blur of
Impressionism masks her reality
with the sleight of hand and a mockingbird’s aria
Susan Ashley
March 8, 2020
~ Third Place ~
Premiere Contest: Brian Strand Contest No 1183
Sponsor: Brian Strand
N/A
Contest: 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 6
Sponsor: Mark Toney
*coloratura: runs, trills, and other florid decorations in vocal music.
A lyric soprano of high range who specializes in such music*
*aria: an elaborate melody sung solo*
with passion’s brilliant mediocrity
we sparked a flame with tragedy
it was our common fantasy
what a candid lie we chose to sing
while watching worlds were turning
we rubbed two thorns with yearning
we set emerald cities burning
what a candid lie we chose to sing
adoration reeked of haughty claim
adulation played a sordid game
affections viral... would not tame
what a candid lie we chose to sing
what a candid lie we sing
in the graying dawn of age
as with our trembling hands
we turn a bitter page
you gaily pierced the side of me
a garden weeps inside of me
anguish eats the soul of me
since you have forsaken me
what a candid lie I chose to sing
worlds keep on turning
affections keep on yearning
young men keep on learning
candid lies they gladly choose to sing
your last kiss came on my last dime
a greyhound bus rolled down the line
empty seats filled up with time
maybe yours
maybe mine
The folly of the fight
These four walls; such contemptible and wretched creatures-
mock me, taunt me, deride me as weak and worthless.
I am shackled to the two evil twins-Misery and Myalgia.
As I wrestle with my afflictions, I throw tantrums-like a feral beast
charging towards the drawn sword.
However...I succumb to the inevitable.
I sense the folly of the fight and submit,
although-unwillingly to this intransigent,
auto-immune disease.
How do you fight an enemy entrenched in your marrow?
This enemy is urging me onward on this death march,
and it is unrelenting in it's insistence.
Death, at times, feels like a release of sorts,
but I could never indulge myself in such disgraceful folly.
The pain is intractable, inscrutable, but...
I soldier onward... until the end.
August 07, 2020
John Derek Hamilton
We will all die
So we cry loud
And try for thought.
Wrong lane, wrong way.
Death delay, pray.
Cars stray and honk.
Oh, please, cars – clear.
Turns appear soon,
I steer, we cheer.
Gunfire lit the clouds
as the weeping sky shed her
tears on Flanders Fields
We are off on a long DRIVE to see the famous, re-known big FIVE,
Three hours later at the Kruger National Park we safely arrive,
And cruise among predatory country, beautiful, colorful wildlife,
Full of LIFE the two of us, my husband and his very excited WIFE.
We see a pride of LIONS, and park next to a tour bus of HAWAIIANS,
They seem ecstatic, cameras clicking, among them Uruguayans,
They follow us, as they seem to think we will know where to go,
Continue over a bridge SLOW, see crocodiles drifting with the river FLOW.
Still the tour BUS continues and winds its way whenever they see US,
We see cheetah, leopards, a herd of elephants, an absolute plus,
We stop, the tour bus stops too, at a waterhole, but leave, close by are bees,
We spot rhinos, baboons, eagles perched on TREES, a warthog on its KNEES!
The tourist’s excitement contagious and SPILLS, we come across horn BILLS,
Big birds, the secretary bird, Goliath herons, but the horn bills by the hills,
Excite them the most, we had befriended each other and my husband said,
These birds don't FLY, upon which they flew off towards the SKY, hubby so red!
POETRY CONTEST ENTRY
IN RHYMES SUBLIME POETRY CONTEST ENTRY
SPONSORED BY; JOSEPH MAY
05/11/2020
How Can Deep Folly, Abject Blindness Banish Hope
(How Easily We Are Deceived, Hope Lost)
I recall darkness, creeping edges of power
ease of entry in that first forlorn hour.
No worries, as it entered with its soothing host
aye, but with one true goal, my soul to roast.
Thinking back, my guard I had foolishly let down
enters blackest stain, upon discarded gown.
This heart had abandon once intelligent mind
all in the name of glory, love to find!
So clear now, that wondrous Light I gladly blew out
with glee and joy this lost soul gave a shout.
How can deep folly, abject blindness banish Hope?
I willingly, was hung by my own rope.
Aye, deceptive powers seek out Hope to destroy.
Torture man and play with him as with a new toy.
Robert J. Lindley, 5-08-2017
Sonnet(12,10,12,10)
Syllables Per Line: 12 10 12 10 0 12 10 12 10 0 12 10 12 10 0 12 12
Total # Syllables: 156
Total # Words: 120
Part Three of - Hope and its greatest Treasures..
neath darkening sky
swept away, flowers take wing
in winds brisk surfing
rustling leaves, swaying branches
weaving springtime morns glances
2/19/2022
A Brian Strand Tanka Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
a tanka in English is a 3 line hiku & a 2 line couplet
A grenade was placed inside my head to suspend me from my hobby.
The smoke did rise and choke my friends as I exited from the lobby.
A wicked shadow my path did cast that long lost working day,
it’s a shame I had to go insane and lead my peers astray.
Men did come to restrain my progress as I ripped apart their flesh,
what kind of force can stop a man who’s mind is made of mesh?
Within my mind I seek an answer to help reduce the strains,
it’s a shame, however, how I had to feast upon their brains.
I know not were to take my sorrow in such a lonely case,
perhaps I’ll have to find my mind and delay it’s quickened pace.
I am lost inside this endless world of multiple fixations,
but why the hell am I the one trapped in Cocaine’s stations.
There is no answer from above or anyone down below,
I can’t believe I cannot have just one last flake of snow.
My throat has dried to words my ears must cradle and then eat,
I cannot stand or even move, were the hell are both my feet?
Here I am to pay for all my addiction has destroyed,
it feels as if my skin does crawl as anger is deployed.
I have slept with time and pondered long, finding a direction,
My heart is scared and bruised about, but only from reflection.
I cannot fix this broken basket I once called my mind,
I’ll never reach normality again; I’ll always be behind.
How could such a decent life be killed away by spite,
I stop and ask myself again but all I see is white.
The walls suck me in as I shiver from withdrawal,
my bones start to crack and itch as rejection starts to sprawl.
I have learned my lesson deep and wide to never use again,
but now I have to face the fact that I once did begin.
The world is an awful place
so much going on so bad
it seems it's always been like that
looking on it's so very sad
But can nothing be done?
it's a really awful place
wherever one goes about
awful testimony of the human race
Evil is evident to triumph
what a picture this shows
of the sinfulness of sin
there's one way this goes
The real mistake is to do nothing
then there's no courage to attack
being good men is not enough
doing nothing's just so slack
It's so full of folly
to be doing not a thing
show your metal and shine
make the call so it rings!
(Quote
" The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing" - Edmund Burke)
The Folly of Man
Into that great abyss we speak fortunes, wants and frustrations
Seeking that witch can only give us solace to that that never bothers.
A million prayers go out into the night with fear and supplications
Only one eye open, and that half seeing the plan that is our fathers.
We glean the fields of a present day pasture seeing naught but the road ahead
Never looking sideways, to that wich could be. Or back to what has passed
It is the Folly of Man that keeps us building this world from the blood of the dead
Where brick, tile and steel, are forever the molds from witch our children are cast
We need to move forward to a simpler time where things are not complex
When profit does not reign as the bottom line and the dollar is not our savior
To strive for a life where we live freely, without regard to color or sex
When hungry children can catch the breath and hate isn’t normal behavior
When a gift is again just a gift, and no longer requires an equal requital,
And a compliment given to another isn’t for a personal gain.
When justice is sought and given, and no guilty takes home and acquittal
And the innocent can live their lives without feeling unwarranted pain
So look to the instructions that he left us, that those, his chosen have penned,
And wander not where you road will lead you, or what your destiny really is
This world we know is fleeting and into eternity we must all ascend
For never has there been a more apparent truth, that all of this is really His.
Forests are felled
There once dwelled life -
Now quelled by greed.
Pulp to paper -
The razor tears
Through curtained flesh
Let’s laud our wit -
Bark - on it.. We
have writ ‘Save trees’!
-------------------------------------------------------------
Than-Bauk (Non Staircased)
Internal rhyme
Pained am I with the waste of life,
Of dreams that lie like myriad shards,
Of hopes and love left far behind,
Taking flight on withered wings of
Unrequited expectations.
Sad am I that young roiling blood
Is stilled, silenced, with abandonment.
Where is the burning zeal and zest,
Brash bravado and youthfulness,
Life that thrives on - being alive?
We drink toasts to greatness, success, gain,
Do we empathize with those who fail?
Is what is taught is only that
Our goal by day, and that by night,
Is we've just got to beat the best?
Angered am I to read of death
Of youth who think life's race they have lost,
Laying great store by trivial
Pursuits whose conquest placed above
Life, and limb, and the self itself?
Oh, callow youth, oh innocent you!
A quagmire of treachery and deceit
Life is woefully all about.
You win some points, but lose some more-
With honour take it in your stride.
Carry on regardless with a smile,
Drink a toast to what'er be your lot.
Through wind and storm or sunny days
The days relentlessly zoom by
Always heralding happy cheer!
Blame not the foolhardiness of youth
For life cut short due to shattered dreams.
Blame lies squarely on the heads of
Patriarchs of a synthetic
Society of transferred hopes.
I was so inexperienced, gullible, and childish.
Ah youth's folly, so brave and yet wildish.
So witless and terribly naive
Sometimes I feel I can’t believe.
We smelt the fragrant whiff of pine needles,
crunched crispy as we sang the songs of the Beatles,
as we trekked alone up the hill
that towered majestically with thrill,
a few miles from our hometown.
The fragrance of Fall, followed by leaves brown.
Love crept in losing all our senses,
Little serious thoughts of consequences.
We were too young, actions should not be
But a fool who could not foresee
the imminent prospective on the horizon
that stretched so far, far away as the sun was risin`.
I did not care, who did in those days?
A child was born, and we were in a haze,
A baby that needed money nowhere to be found.
We toiled, we worried, and each debtor a hound.
Help was scarce and youth a thing of the past,
My wife fell sick, and death came too fast.
I cried as I lost my dear wife but will not forget
The mists of the hill of our first love where we met.
Today I trek that same hill behind our town
remembering our lost youth though the grass was brown.
I almost stumble on the dewy grass of dawn,
I feel strong arms helping me on.
My love, my little Angelina, she saved me from a blow,
the daughter that was born so many years ago.
1 December 2021
''Y'' Contest
Youth
Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Tis the season to be folly
fa la la la fa, la la la fa
Court jesters and gay princes dancing
kissing their desires away in Palaces of derision
sinners around, they abound
Jesus will punish them on and all
Tis the season to be folly
fa la la la fa, la la la fa
Gay smiles and transgender hugs
all the children dancing
so happy and snug
do no harm, all religion doth sing
Tis the season to be folly
fa la la la fa, la la la fa
Hateful preachers
all drowned in the punch
now the reindeer and elf's
have more food for their lunch
Tis the season to be folly
fa la la la fa, la la la fa
The Greeks were gay so long ago
they taught us to be open
any goat goes
to the harem of love
do no harm
love all
Abu Nuwas sips his wine
in his tower of Babel so tall
Tis the season to be folly
fa la la la fa, la la la fa