Best Frivolously Poems
"Awake Sweet Stolen Dream"
I wandered outside my conscious element of thought
drifting into wonderlust of dreamland sequences like photographs
as I inhaled fragrant winds gliding upon gossamer wings
of lace and satin, streaming through pink cotton candy clouds.
I touched a rainbow traveling warp speed to rendezvous
with my lover, who appeared at my sheer will's emotion
for I had cast a magic spell upon his heart with hypnotic trance
he, helpless, had no recourse but to obey my dreamy wishes.
I tantalized my lovers' soul with happy innuendo as my muse
in dreams, love escalates to ultimate desire without penalty
then, suddenly, a rival resonated her displeasure of my game
fury of the White Witch chased me with her fiery wand, to mame.
my delicate dream evolved into nightmarish tone of fearfulness
as she drew closer, I realized consequences to treat love frivolously
so blatantly. as my tender tears urged my mind desperately to
awake from sweet stolen dream whose horror left me breathless.
in panic state secreting droplets of perspiration on flesh and bone
I released my fair silky skin from black lace negligee' trying
to open sleepy eyes of green stinging from tears of sorrow
peering across the bed, your warmth still lying there to caress.
that night I made a vow to cherish love so good and true
for dreams are predictors; omens of future events to come
waking to reality I treasure the beauty of love, not as a toy
to trifle with, as love will banish nightmares from realm of dreams.
as I awake from my sweet stolen dream of wanton folly
my heart is renewed in spirit with a softer side to dwell
among Angels rather than the evil dark side of manipulation
I now know Heaven is real .. and so is Hell.
*For Leonora's Waking Up Contest.
*Nov. 14, 2012.
One Autumn Day
One cloudless, bright color-splashed Autumn day,
as a sunny sky frivolously frolicked with butterflies of iridescent blue,
and trees exploded with flaming colors of burnt orange, red, and yellow,
she rested on a soft bed of freshly-fallen leaves near a golden pond.
In her reflection, she saw the spirited girl she once was,
the brash nymph who uninhibitedly loved the sun god, amorous Helios,
with glorious memories of one Autumn day forever engraved in her heart.
09-11-2014
Contest: One Autumn Day (In Just 7 Lines)
Sponsor: Poet Destroyer A
Placement: 9th
Who is he? Who is She? Who is me?
Questions so easily asked, but often frail and weak.
Today i was asked who am I and why?
I had no answer as my brain crashed and my mind fried.
Well you see I am me, Simply put i'm what you see.
I am so unique it would be an insult to label so frivolously
Reputation is something we work on till the day we die.
To expect me to explain when my actions speak aloud is a crime.
I suppose if i were to explain myself in order to entertain.
I'd keep my answer short simple and plain.
With my mind fried and an answer made harder than needed to be
Quietly i mutter I am my actions and the rest is a mystery.
Who am I, and what makes me, Me?
Well dont ask me, just watch and observe carefully.
Is not a man without love a speck of dust frivolously falling in a dream?
As he blindly stares as malefic mirrors rust with no reflection to redeem
His heart does yearn and may combust where love has lost its gleam
The speck is swept in a gust thus forever falling into the infinite stream
Whispers fall from sardonic sky as tears accumulate in the sclerosed sea
Within the darkness we hear a cry as the sensorial sorrows beg to plea
For in loves shadow a black hole does lie filled with dramaturgic debris
We ask the question why love distraughtly departs from you and me.
Jan.24.2018
CONTEST NO 390 ANY FORM
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
It being a holiday, with friends, I went to chill out
In a gregarious company, partying was sheer fun
After a heavy booze, my first-time experience,
I fell flat, plunging into deep sleep and dreaming away
In my dream, I sailed away
Over the tame waters of a tranquil bay
And landed in a magic isle
Never set foot before by anyone alive
A pleasant retreat of birds and beasts
Far removed from world’s dust and heat
A tropical island with a magical spell
Hidden away at Nature’s veiled breast
The sky was rent with songs of birds
The air, smelling of odors sweet
Here and there were exotic blooms
Bird of Paradise, Plumeria and jasmine
I roamed frivolously from end to end
Of that enchanted land of idyllic charm
With twining creepers and tall growing grass
Proclaiming aloud of a perennial spring
My heart leaped in euphoric delight
My senses alerted in ecstatic thrill
My feet moved in an explorer’s gait
After the treasures stashed in its caverns deep
I rambled relentlessly through untrodden paths
Feasting on the marvels, my eyes could catch
Arching trees framing a leafy roof
And fruits, ripe and raw, hanging from every bough
As Nature, thus unveiled her bounty before,
My fancy, unfettered took to wings.
I loved my sway over that fairy land
With treasures galore that none could claim
But how suddenly loomed an unwelcome thought
That dampened my spirits and stole my joy
“Will I ever be able to see my folks
To be enmeshed once more in a warm embrace”?
Longingly I looked for a ship skimming the sea
To carry me back to my native land
To get united with all my loved ones
To live a life ever, as lived before
Like a marooned sailor, desperate, as I cried
To alert the ship that sailed away
I heard distinct my husband’s anxious query
“Darling, what made you scream so loud”???
Endowed by my creator,
The gift of feeling
To see, hear, hate, and love thee
Searching frivolously through the night
Hope did leave me and love
I did not find
So friendship never found me, even in the blind
Endowed by my creator,
With the talent to be isolated
To be afraid and hated
And not even in the glacial rugged heights did I find solace,
Nature, who nurses her children, showed me no mercy
In the cold regions of my mind
Friendship never found me
Atmospheres of the weary tears that flow through the river Styx
Bonded by the watchful eye for Hades is in the molten mix
Cerberus is in his bliss as he watch’s the grotesque gates of hell
Death becomes as it nocturnally numbs the souls underneath its spell
Eurynomos watching rotting corpse’s aromas of the dying dead
Ferryman extends his hand, Charon’s purse must be faithfully fed
Grimly graves in massive waves of victims frivolously falling in
Hell awaits with open gates as the pandemonium does begin
Ignominious retreat for those that would repeat many lifetimes
Jagged rivers edge for those who would wedge their cunning crimes
Kabbalistic rituals leave their residuals as the underworld is overflowing
Lachrymal souls never reach their goals even in their constant crowing
Many do make it as the rest can’t shake it, to outrun the rivers grasp
Necromantic wizards cross the rivers to help undo the candescent clasp
Odysseus in his cunning shall be stunning the querulous Queen as he planned
Persephone in her majesty rigidly rules the underworld by candid command.
In Greek Mythology...a river that forms the boundary between Earth and the Underworld (the domain often called Hades, which also is the name of its ruler)
Cerberus...often called the "hound of Hades", is a monstrous multi-headed dog, who guards the gates of the underworld, preventing the dead.
Eurynomos...was the netherworld daimon (spirit) of rotting corpses dwelling in the Underworld.
Charon...is the ferryman of Hades who carries souls of the newly deceased across the rivers Styx...for a price(coins)
Odysseus...hero of Homer's epic poem the Odyssey...was a frequent visitor.
Persephone...was the daughter of Zeus and Demeter, and the queen of the underworld. She was abducted by Hades.
Sept.03.2016
Alphabet Soup - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Kim Merryman
A poem that simply does not rhyme:
In my opinion, has no chime.
The bells and whistles of a rhyming sequence,
Is the kind of music, my ears need frequent!
How I admire the writer, who rhymes a story,
with creative words and is explanatory.
I am completely raptured by the rhythm of a speaker,
as he unravels his epic, to the hungry seeker.
I love those moments of anticipation,
as words flow with perfect collaboration.
The tales may be true, fictitious, or blue:
about a horse, a dog or even a shrew.
A child, a man, a box in the attic,
pure love, or hate, and also pragmatic!
A saga, a myth, a cow jumping over the moon,
The spring, the winter, or a hot day in mid-June!
The element of immeasurable surprise,
may bring happiness, weariness, or crying eyes.
You can’t put a number on rhyming possibilities,
There may even be some that bring severe hostilities!
I know there are those that think I am just silly,
some may even call me a country hillbilly!
One can even assert, that I may be a bit slow,
since at age forty-nine, Dr. Seuss still sets me aglow.
For, when it comes to rhyming, I get frivolously delirious.
I suppose I could add that I am really not that serious!
Now, whatever your style of poem might be,
don’t for a moment, stop to think about me.
Just be creative with everything that you write,
and know our God in heaven wants you to take flight!
Rhyme, Battle
10-3-13
A summer sun shines steadily on such spicy scented scenery,
As forest fairies frolick frivolously amidst full greenery.
Birds butterflies bees and blooms waft blissfully beautiful,
Making more memorable magic, on the mad mornings so musical!
The wild wondrous whimsicality arises when none's watchful,
So there's no tangible testimony to these totally bashful.
However, historically hidden in the habitual jade habitat,
Fabled fairies frequent sun faceted forests secrets intact!
I constantly search for it
but it's enigmatical elusive,
hidden in a Mona Lisa smile.
Should I arm myself against self inflicted pains?
Camouflage my feelings with insouciant emotions?
For all my cirrhosis equivocal endeavors,
I manage only to forge a jealous rift,
until fragile truths bring sullen tears.
For God is love, and love is truth.
Had I misused it?
Is that why I can't find it now?
Yet they say that love is beautiful.
Where does true beauty lie?
All I find is veiled secrets,
thinly disguised behind mirthful masks
frivolously worn on carefree Valentine days.
Should in dire despair give up?
So your great gran
was a suffragette
She fought for the right for women to vote
She thought that would make a woman equal,
put them on the same footing as a man
Looking back, that was misguided thinking
by woman like your great gran
Your great gran
and her suffragette sisters
didn't count on their own gender betraying them
To use their hard fought freedoms perversely
Frivolously,
and in the end, irresponsibly
Now you're using your right to vote
to remove the stigma of using dope
Using your freedoms to enhance your breasts,
to mutilate yourself
To smoke cigarettes,
sadly giving yourself cancerous flat chests
Surrogate suffragette,
carrying another woman's baby
The same woman who fought for the right
to have you as her breeding pet
You got your great gran
rolling in her grave I bet
Surrogate suffragette,
my how you're fighting so hard to suppress
all those good freedoms women worked too hard to get
Free to get equal pay,
free to keep your job
should a pregnancy comes your way
Free to smash the glass ceiling,
free to abolish gender hire double dealing
Surrogate suffragette,
you say you're a thoroughly modern woman
But your great gran wouldn't recognize you,
if you were walking down the street
and she saw you coming
When people say don’t use the F word, do they have any idea how formidable fellowship, flux, foxy, finite, and figure-head are freely and fervently formed?
The F word?
What F word?
This crazy admonishment has led me to
This F word poem.
A fantastical fabricated tale, formulated and foretold by
four flirtatious faeries who frankly, felt fractionalized, forever far-fetched, finely falsified, and furiously fantasized by formerly frozen phenoms.
You will find words like fervent, frilly, formidable, feathery, figurehead, and flicker, in this finery.
You will forget fizzles, falls, fits, feeling fervently and frivolously focused.
Foundationally, this formidable fleeting fable of a quadrant of feisty feminine femme fatales
Is fraught with falsehoods, fictions.
My assistant, Franchesa, who was one of these frivolous faeries, is in a frantic frenzy toward focusing her feminine fancies on a phenomenally fragile finish,
What? I have not even added my favorite f words yet.... Fun-filled, flesh-eating, form-fitting
freckled, frozen, fast track, fair-weathered forget-me-knots to name a few.
We are at the fidgety part of the flowery forest of fantasy now.
I appreciate your faithfulness in falling for my ferociously friendly, flowery, f-trap.
I find it funny that family, fellowship, famously, fleshy, formula, and feckless begin with the same F as fanciful, Felix, fanny and the word that shall not be named.
Formidable words forever feel forgiven in the forefront of the fanfare of the forest.
Philosophically, what about the furious finish, fortuitously finalized by my former free mason, Fritz?
Forgone conclusion, friends, the finale was fortuitously inspired, of course, by my favorite letter, F.
Water Sprite
A
Water sprite dances
across colorful prismatic waves
Curls of shimmering violet ride
across the liquid crystal sea
unscathed
Impishly
Swaying to twilight's love song
enchantingly perfumed in flowering blooms
Of succulent orange waterstone daisies
crawling, the sandy edge as a well made
costume
A
Wet humidity sparkles off her skin
from a rosy glitter of diamonded stardust
This mystical potion of charm creates
twilight's illusions of love and
lust
Sprite
Frivolously darts between fattened
fruit trees, wrapped in jasmine vines
Paradise wakened a sleeping beauty
blending the elements into a fine
wine
Thriving in
Harmony
Carole Cookie Arnold
2010
What gallant form from vaunted perch doth alight
Leaving tailwind that unassuming gawkers affright
Whose tawny shadow the sun's rays doth blight;
Swarthy silhouette shading glint so erudite
Whose tan-welted oars the azure seas doth smite;
With swift strokes the ethereal waves doth unrequite
Whose beige shield occludes satin rampart's line of sight;
O'er satin folds his opaque image doth highlight
What spindling machine doth wind's billowy currents spite,
With each sweeping motion a cylinder doth ignite
What grainy visage doth earth's footstool beknight,
With majestic crown his diminutive subjects delight
What predator drone spreads its cerebral kite;
Soaring fowl, creeping ermine safe sanctuary to slight
Whose steely eyes sky's tenants doth frivolously indict;
His insatiable, rapacious appetite to expedite
Alice in Unreality Land
Tweedle Dee was acting frivolously dumb,
Whilst Mock Turtle’s face sullen and glum.
Not unusually White Rabbit was late,
Alice grew large compressed in a gate.
Absent minded Dodo, helpful so polite,
Gryphon has wings but cannot take flight.
A Cat from Cheshire grinning ear to ear,
The Queen has a King, so kindly my dear.
Remover of Monsters our Lizard man Bill,
Caterpillar smokes Hookah with obstinate will.
March Hare so ridiculous, loudly insane,
Dozy Dormouse in Teapot doesn’t complain.
Unbirthday parties of a Hatter so mad,
Duchess is curious, neither good nor bad.
Lewis Carroll wrote a surreal world of confusion,
A curiosity tale filled of unreality and illusion.
Written 8.10.18