Best Fulsome Poems
LATE AUTUMN HAIKU
they’re almost gone now
how brown, bare the branches look
some toys in the leaves
when rain turns to snow
how sad those two last roses
brave faces with tears
apples bruised apples
scattered on the frosted green
and this twiggy frown
music in the wind
late october’s final song
dancing red and gold
talk of winter now
old dog by a crackling fire
shutters rattle pings!
photo of dear dad
he loved that fulsome willow
fallen leaves marker
Dave Austin
Categories:
fulsome, seasons,
Form:
Haiku
The fulsome figure of the moon
O'er floats midst myrrh and cassia's haze
Now piercing darkness' call of loon
Whilst rumors swirl amidst the maze
Yon swan, young goose swift flap their wings
The pond's alive, sweet sings the dove
As ducklings dance and nature swings
A lustrous spectacle above
Dark clouds demur, they gather round
Fierce crack of lightning bolts below
Brew up a storm, a crash resounds
The lambent spectacle's cruel foe
At rain's hard slants, the pond shrinks back
Her light cut short, her brilliance black
~ Iambic Tetrameter ~
February 24, 2021
All Yours (Feb. 26) Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Categories:
fulsome, dance, light, night, song,
Form:
Sonnet
THE BLOSSOMS OF HOME
Heaven must be this sweet -
Old Pilikov across the street,
The Schillings there along the shore,
Apple trees just outside door.
In the softness of lush pink shade
My children grew and played
With their heavy laden giant blooms
And inhaled their pure perfumes.
To start each day in blossom,
In display perfect and fulsome,
Spread low over my transom -
Is surely life in heaven’s bosom.
Categories:
fulsome, family
Form:
Couplet
as the hen settled down on her eggs
and the burro brayed his last bray
the moon slowly rose in the sky
fulsome and round to the eye
sated calves nuzzled up against udders
while fillies snuggled into their mothers
lambs curled up beside sheep
the world had plunged into sleep
yet denizens of the dark kept on going
internal time clocks never slowing
night crawlers dancing 'til dawn
miles from the doe and her fawn
Categories:
fulsome, animal, night, sleep,
Form:
Couplet
Twas the night before Christmas in 2054
The only sound being robotic mice on the floor
Our digital wish-lists were hung with ultra-precision
Above the virtual fireplace in pre-supposition
Of the anticipated arrival of a hypothetical being.
The miniature adults were dormant in their pods
As eidolon confiture twinkled their nods
While responsible progenitors with 'Bed Head" applied
Had concluded their thoughts for the long Winter's night.
Then out on the Astroturf there began such a frattle.
Startled from our beds to witness the sprattle
We opened our security cams to survey the scene
Frame by frame we analyzed what we were seeing.
The spotlight that shone on the new fallen snow,
Made fulsome the green of our false mistletoe,
And, at that very moment a freeze-frame laid bare
A cutting edge sleigh pulled by eight robotic deer.
Its jovial driver was dressed all in scarlet;
I knew it must be the Santa of myth,
For he was down our chimney with a bag of toys
And lickety-split back without making a noise.
It was over in a twinkle - he was gone with a whoosh
As you can imagine our confusion was profuse
And although his reindeer were mechanical frames
He recited out loudly and called all their names.
Come Bolter, come Byte-r come Laser and Algorithm,
Come Orbiter, Come Thyristor, Come Thunder and Mixem
As he circled the rooftop in a Gigabyte of starlight
He shouted LOL three times- as his sleigh zoomed skyward.
Categories:
fulsome, celebration, children, christmas, fantasy,
Form:
Rhyme
It comes back to me in solemnity,
and I wistfully wish it wouldn't.
A willful case of killing it was—
a hunter doing what he shouldn't.
Father had taken me deer hunting,
thinking to make a man of a boy.
I prayed we wouldn't see a deer.
and we didn't—not one—such joy!
Daylight was dimming to dusk
when he said our hunt had ended.
We started down a rocky trail,
and at a turn—we froze, suspended.
A hunter was positioned to shoot,
crouched, rifle cradled with skill.
Target? A shiny-eyed rabbit
happily nibbling a leafy meal.
"Oh, don't," I felt to cry out,
but then a c-r-a-c-k cricked the air.
The place where the rabbit had been
was as if nothing were ever there.
"He missed," my glad heart sang;
"the rabbit's alive and is all right."
But the hunter's face was fulsome
with a beastly, loathsome blight.
As we came by the spot, I retched,
the brush was garnished with gore.
Father's silence tracked the truth;
we wouldn't go hunting any more.
How to conceive of such blood thirst—
wanton killing as an act of gladness.
I trust, however, for those so cursed
civility will supercede such madness.
Categories:
fulsome, 12th grade, animal, sad,
Form:
Rhyme
Kissed by the rebel mouth of Dionysus
set tight against their fulsome lips;
lapped into shapes by intoxicant tongues,
arms fused in a chain of swaying hips.
Tiptoe this sisterhood of Athena,
this trio in bright synchrony;
blown back on Acropolis stilettos,
risen skirts above the stockinged knee.
Aphrodite waged love at closest quarters,
hair and smiles in abandonment;
cocked ears unto the night owl's dreaming cry,
dancing rings on cracked cement.
And in their gentle, giddy transit
do these Three graces reincarnate;
resurrected in neon and nicotine apparel,
a vodka cocktail triumvirate.
With clicks of glitzy, glittery nails,
Beauty, Love and Pleasure burn the midnight oil;
the winds of Olympus ply their skin,
bled as one with each other on urban soil.
A graffiti collision of sensual ephemera
sprayed on a backdrop of brick and grime,
Three graces raised up by the ancient gods
from the mists and depths of mythic time.
Oh to see the marriage of their personas
bared in a nocturne, driven weeping,
only one lone gaze imbibes the miracle
for the world and his wife lie blind and sleeping...
Categories:
fulsome, allegory, life, passion, philosophy,
Form:
In numerous locales countrywide, they hold sway
Pirouetting at intervals like ballerinas from Bolshoi
Beauteous, feline and very feminine
Slender to the point of emaciation, not quite
Cultivating the undernourished look on a frugal diet
Decidedly austere for a longer tenure in the limelight
Basking in the fleeting warmth of an adulatory audience
A gathering of the doting kindred and the upwardly mobile
Some dirty old men on the sly, dirty young men too
Glued to their seats craning for a better view
By and large captive by choice, a handful perforce
Sitting through to pen their weekly column
Giving those they fancy their due in the sun
Witnesses to a parade of demure eyed lasses
And a few with flashy looks walking tall on stilettos
Essentially female and contoured though not prominently so
At least not to a marked degree, yet with excellent muscle tone
Opulence, no longer deemed a career necessity
Once considered right stuff, now rejected as wrong size
An hour-glass shape belonging to an age bygone
But hardly so, from the viewers’ mind, in retrospect
Enchanting and alluring yet not overtly titillating
Each in a state of dress and undress
Willing tools of designers flaunting their creations
Sporting dresses and hats and shoes, and lingerie too
In black or white and loud or subdued hues
Displaying formal wear, casual wear, swimsuits and sleep suits
Some scanty and figure hugging, others flowing and loose
A bony look required for some, others fulsome
A voyeur’s paradise, to be sure
Indulging a fetish without stooping too low
Chilly weather was never reason enough to cancel a show
Heat of arc-lamps taking care of goose pimples
Or brandy taken neat infusing the needed heat
Harbingers of tomorrow’s fashion and pall-bearers of today’s
The strobe lit platform of the pageant
Serving to launch new faces or is it legs?
The leggy look personified by Twiggy of yore
Carried through in the interim and sustained by the new genre
Captivating without doubt, and thorough professionals
Displaying unruffled demeanour and tutored bearing of thoroughbreds
Exuding confidence with every graceful step they take
Cool as ice despite the harsh glare of stage lights
And callous catcalls from boorish males
Performing in a backdrop of future fashion trends
Money and fame finding some, eluding others
Be it centre stage or in the shadows
It is bread on the catwalk for all
Categories:
fulsome, tribute, men,
Form:
Free verse
All is a portrait.
A masterpiece to persuade,
There is something more.
That intangible who inhabits silence.
Beyond our own rhetoric and the need to comply.
Triangular trees shedding forgotten leaves,
Rain dripping from naked branches,
And scurrying creatures who have only themselves to please.
Strange screeching of fleeing things,
Echo beneath the rising of a fulsome moon.
Absurd stars hang like stickers in the sky.
Glued on by some drunkard's hand,
In the splendour of this glory.
I think we need a new language.
Not these tired old city words.
Which are soft and worthless.
We need something ancient,
Something primal,
That howls from the belly of our soul.
Categories:
fulsome, blessing, nature,
Form:
Free verse
LAKE LOUISE
Early April is a preview of heaven
And my sin-soaked soul is forgiven
At Lake Louise. I offer praise fulsome
To the breeze, unladen by debt or ransom.
A few early crocus in warm shelter
Air diamond-clear to see forever
Colours with new-born brightness
Pristine snow of Eden freshness.
Categories:
fulsome,
Form:
Couplet
Even before the arrival of the first snows, so brilliantly candid,
we climbed mounts less dangerous than the Alps's;
and we proudly chalked it up to our experience.
Now the snowy cliffs with bouffant boulders,
have lost their captious and so beatific image,
and quite too often we got pinched by burdock,
distracted by the robins chattering on a coarse descent;
I champed on crisp strawberries, while he challenged his strength.
My buddy never castigated me for my bizarre behavior,
and I admired him for displaying humor without repulsion,
or retort, and with chisel and hammer we engraved faces of historic men
on the smoothest rocks which were replete with their handsomeness.
Those adventurous afternoons are repealed when we look up,
and recreate them through our Male Chauvinism, cheery not dumb;
we felt like cave men making rudimentary drawings of their hunted animals,
while their women picked wild chicory for an early dinner.
Chums we were, resembling cowboys with wide hats in a chiaroscuro,
drinking in a bar filled with fashionable ladies frolicking and saying hello;
and chili con carne we ate, and plenty of beers to wash it down.
After our money was all squandered, our pockets were empty and we felt alone,
dazed...wobbling with fear, afraid to face our witless wives at home;
we were two idiots wooing empathy and some undeserving love.
And didn't they seem two witches ready for vengeance in their frown,
trying to squeeze the truth out of our silent and pretentious mouths too fulsome?
Frost will bring winter soon, and the snowy cliffs with bouffant boulders will be covered,
our hair have turned almost white to match the bright color of the deep snows,
as this river is freezing up, to become a sheet of ice, where no boats or barges pass;
and we play chess, the intramural game of a confined life, without those clandestine affairs.
Our darlings approve with sweet intonation, intensifying their affection so amorous;
and we embrace them with that tenderness that they have long desired...
staring at the snowy cliffs with bouffant boulders that these two climbers made their own,
remembering the cold and the shivering...coming down to a valley of comfort and domain.
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
Categories:
fulsome, adventure, dedication, devotion, family,
Form:
Ottava rima
Love, calumniousness and my calmness.
Caste, colour and religion, castrating me pish.
Pitiable placability, pendiculation and scurrllity,
A scullion leads ashtray, arrogant, juggling kiss.
In funds gainsay gad about, execute fustigation,
Fulsome excelration and Ju Ju, jest misconceived stress.
A gawk but gallant frizzled fuddle and frolic,
Exert pickings pick some picaroon phrenetic bliss.
A cry diverted diversion, a dither distrusted hope,
A burning light touched a grand heart becomes bless.
Categories:
fulsome, educationmum, , cute,
Form:
Sapphic stanza
She lets down hair of silken gold,
It falls below her hips,
Then she turns around to face me,
With a smile on painted lips.
Her breasts are round and fulsome,
And her thighs are smooth and sleek,
She gives what she has to offer,
But it's not the thing I seek.
For I take her without passion,
I can't even remember her name,
But I'll whisper to her that I love her,
Just to play by the rules of the game.
Now her laugh's just a little bit hollow,
And her smile's just a little bit sad,
For we've cheated ourselves and each other
Of the love that we both might have had.
For tomorrow she'll lie with another,
And probably, so will I,
But I will remember my no-name girl
And somewhere, inside, I will cry.
Categories:
fulsome, angst, introspection, love,
Form:
Verse
Yes, I am seeing more and more cars stalled
on the freeway. I am seeing shorter
tempers. I am seeing more faces gnarled
with stress. I hear more talking of border
crossings. Things are getting much more gruesome
out there. Our leaders understand vaguely
the social beasties grinning in fulsome
anticipation the bloodbath ready
to commence. In our closed world we don't know
just how we have been marked, we have been so
comfortable so long. Nightly, we throw
alarms, check perimeter for a foe
that may come from within our very midst.
Years of greed and the ship begins to list.
Categories:
fulsome, introspection, passion, social,
Form:
Sonnet
Torrents of blessings cascading
Like water down a mountain side
Sprinkling nearby foliage
As in blessings we abide
See the misty aura turning
Illuminating a world so dim
Friends and foe alike
Buried deep in sin
Lift your eyes to heaven
Feel the splendor of eternal light
Fill your spirits yearning
With His fulsome love divine
Stand in torrents of blessings
descending from on high
Lift your hands in worship
Open your heart to His shining light
Let Hope be your constant partner
Fear your enemy at worst
Let your spirit with His blessings fill
And know you’ve been saved. Not lost.
Categories:
fulsome, hope
Form:
Rhyme