Best Gewgaw Poems


Fascination With Etymology

the roots – i.e. genealogy of words long held me 
   (no pun intended) held spell bound
e'en upon fertilization of ova and sperm viz – conception, 
   an acute sensory means n'er got drowned
out via the bubbling, dribbling, huzzahing...
   (from within and without the womb) while in utero, 
   especially when me then young spring chick hen ova mum, 
   and cock strutting cock 
   (doodling his due tee) oft testes handsome dad found
their coop t'would be increased by another 
   (at that time no means prevailed to foretell gender, 
   but an old wives tale hatched 
   since time immemorial stubbornly persisted 
   if the husband put right heir (ear) to the ground 
accompanied with petsmart skills of a blood hound
   a close approximation could be discerned, 
   whether the swelling abdominal mound
would yield a son or daughter, 
   which second guess passed thru 
   the umbilical cord shaped grape vine as re noun
splendor – giving participants planning a baby shower 
   purchasing and showcasing an infant gewgaw 
   costing no mo' than a best seller by Ezra Pound 
   or a couple rolling stones,   
 preferably those flat versus being round
with assessment sans prediction per sex of offspring 
   offered slightly greater hedge Tibet 
   with recent introduction of ultra sound

nonetheless genesis (unbeknownst to either parent – 
   trapped in that role for a life time)
this fetus took a fancy to imbibing verbalization 
   that transpired between when shine
warmed the cockles and muscles of this parasite – ha – 
   expanding his vocabulary prior tummy birth in nine
teen hundred and...(th beh so thee ya haint tell in – 
   go ask aunt Roadie) or...find someone name Stein
beck, and give yaw self a pat on the back faw trine
plotting a tentative addition to family tree or 
   (what would turn out tubby more apropos) a vine,
cuz ma late mum referred tomb me as her little monkey
   who when born deeply engrossed reading about urine
thence, when the pediatric doctor snatched the book – 
   BOY DID I WHINE

which out shrilled any wailing police car, 
   or emergency hospital siren
thus...i got christened RED (for short), yet code named 120 db
which translates as the decibel threshold for pain 
   even afflicting the dead poet Byron.
Categories: gewgaw, addiction, age, appreciation, boy,
Form: Bio

Son, Say Goodnight To Grandpa - Part 2

originally my intent to expound on memories 
   when paternal grandfather erode
out to said residence, and averse to expand horizons 
   asthma late mum didst goad
him (in vain) to commingle, find intelligent links 
   analogous to electronic signals communicating ip node
 but this towheaded grandson, 
   merely excited when me daddy's papa 

   came to this figurative antipode,   
where pegged back in time 
   when this elderly regal family member
   only a half decades shy, 

   whence benchmarked by horse drawn carriages rode
but more to the point, twas how eager 
   to toy with the wristwatch (analog) 
which chained metal links wore a temporary imprint 
   upon his aged skin – dog  

head lee remaining even departure time arrive 
   for favorite boyhood relative, 
   which when a kid also glee at occasions 
   treasuring older folk gave me a frog   
tiled toy (sliding puzzle) that required dexterity 
   moving pieces fastly secured, 

   which when complete always left me agog 
and this, that or some other gewgaw, souvinir, trinket 
   (plus a bit of chump change given to me) 
   spurred me late mum to spark me mental cog
to say “good morning”, “good afternoon”, 
   “goodnight”, or when eggnog

proffered to this most senior chronological guest, 
   who sat at the head of table, 
   or blankly watching television like a bump on a log
while chided, forced, induced...
   to parlay social graces from this mere pollywog 
who (much as delight arose fussing 
   with trappings worn loss on atrophied flesh)
   a skittishness found me averse to follow orders 
   as if I happened to be a petsmart dog.
Categories: gewgaw, age, appreciation, boy, celebration,
Form: Elegiac Lyric

Jinxed Jesting Jejune Junior Jobber Part 2

Gamesomeness goads gawky, gingerly,
goofily graceful, grandiloquent gent, gallant,
genteel, geico, guppy gecko, gabbling gaffes,
gagging, gamboling, gestating, gesticulating,
garlic, gnashing, gobbling, gyrating,

gruesomely grinning, grappling, gnomadic
giggly, grubby, gastrointestinally grumpy
gewgaw gazing guy, geographically germane,
gungho, grave gremlin, grumbling, guiding,
guaranteeing, guerilla gripped gatling guns
ginning gumpshun.

Hello! Herewith halfway harmless hazmat,
haphazard haggard, hectored, hastily,
hurriedly, harriedly hammered, handsomely
hackneyed, heady, hellbent hillbilly, hirsute,
hidden hippie, huffy humanoid, hexed, heady,
Hellenistic, holistic, hermetic, hedonistic
heterosexual *****sapiens historical heirloom,
homeless, hopeful, holy, hee haw heretical hobo.

Indefatigable, iconographic, iconic, idealistic, 
idyllic, inimitable, idiosyncratic, ineffable,
irreverently issuing idiotic, indifferent, inert,
ineffectual, ingeniously iniquitous, immaterial,
insignificant, indubitable, inexplicable, ignoble
itches, ineffectually illustriously illuminating 
immovable infused ichthyosaurus implanted 
inside igneous intrusions immensely 
imperturbable improbable.
Categories: gewgaw, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Alliteration

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member The Gewgaw Witch

she conjured up a cunning rasp
a gewgaw lyre-like harp in clasp
to crooked teeth held in their grasp
then twanged at midnight with a blast

this higgled haggled haggly crone
did dance on graves while all alone
her gewgaw raising mottled bone
‘til joined by dead with rotting moan
 
bats within the steeple saw
the witch’s pointy nose and jaw
and from her mouth came sounds galore
an array of growls from her gewgaw

so off did dance and prance and play
the bones of dead and her away
from grave to street did people say
beware the gewgaw witch today
Categories: gewgaw, dance, dark, fun, magic,
Form: Monorhyme

Premium Member Jaw Harp Man

see my hand it has a gewgaw in
and to my lips I kiss the day
with her sounds I repeat back
in overtones and harmonics 
of a heart whose breath is wide
horizonal, for scope, there is scope
and much to fill with a beauty
of song and call and secretness 
yet do I not keep the outside out
these harp filled moments
allow my alone to distant inwards
solitary in an openness of voyage
among this voice of many voices
for it is here in this everywhere
that soothes, that steals, that builds
and my direction honed, renewed
oh these moments pass too quickly
once I’m out of the eternity
but the whet and drive has thirst
see my hand it has a gewgaw in
and to my lips I kiss the day
Categories: gewgaw, life, muse, music, solitude,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member A Brief Guide To My Jaw Harp

percussively
I think my way as rhythm 
over cloud peaked tops
mountain points like metered dots
and on them stand and pluck, oh see
my breath transcends eternity

introspect
I aim my gewgaw outwardly 
to a passing world
and yet it seems I’m not as bold
it searches inward with effect
I am my own play’s architect

meditate
a friend who soothes 
who heals at home
I play for me and my ear alone
a remedy of beats I incorporate
in my therapeutic style of late

sanctuary
my sound is that 
of a honeyed waterfall
hear breath, it’s grace over boulders call
a harmonising of beauty’s key
be vibrant yet my soliloquy
Categories: gewgaw, beauty, introspection, life, music,
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member My Bloody Valentine

*Vaaz= vase 

You offered roses delivered thorns, blood drips and your body adorns ~
Slumped, soaked in crimson your heart forever mine, retribution has come, my bloody valentine—by Poet

Once upon a time lived Angel, an androgynous white knight
Diamonds in rings and pearls on strings, he’d often gift  
The reddest of roses, bluest of violets, specifics delight
Yet cataclysmic are the blackened roots adrift 
Blessed was I with a sultry kiss, my affection’s launched
Hijacked my love from the marrow of my bones 
I blessed him with carte blanche 
Mistaken for a gewgaw of wonton love on loan
Thrusting winds levitate revealing regret
The myriads of flowers in the vaaz, what cause? 
This bleeding heart gushes the blood of violet blue scarlet 
Prickly are the iron thorns between splayed fingers
Bittersweets, the Londor truffles
Cheating are the charred stars above, darkness lingers
Ionized is the taste of tears in wine, how it ruffles
like nails scratch it burns inside, nothing can suture
The arrow churns a void through the breast
Unbeknownst to me my future
To avoid loneliness and unrest
Kingdom of crushes what judgement have I begotten?
I curse the love blind night we met
As a forbidden love and now forgotten
My black knight you are Keats Bright Star
A sacrifice of Anayalation
Another scab, another scar 
A token of my affection
© I Am Anaya  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: gewgaw, death, love hurts, valentines
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Gewgaw

I sit upon a moment’s tree
  with a gewgaw in my hand
and pluck its reed rhythmically
  to ride the distant land

the journ to drift her league to me
  upon my tongue, her tongue
caressing sound relentlessly
  harmonious lips in song

and while my harp does steer me so
  to galaxies afar
many a darkness had me go
  traverse the lonesome star

yet all the time a moment’s tree
  side on with roots asway
an afternoon belonged to me
  that gewgaw had my day
Categories: gewgaw, dedication, introspection, journey, life,
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member Lord Springpaw

a witches familiar
   this fiery rabbit hops to a spell
   with a gewgaw in his paw

a witches doer
   this forayed hopper dances well
   with a song or two or more

a witches seer
   this furry bunny on the bell
   with a bouncing at the door

a witches worker
   this funny imp in a grassy dell
   with naughtiness in store
Categories: gewgaw, animal, fun, funny, humorous,
Form: Light Verse

Nightclubbing

They wait in the night-lit brightness.
I watch them from an over-magnified telescope;
youngsters and older
some dripping a scent of latent maturity,
a furtive effort to blend and not offend
the judges
who have sly thoughts
in their searchlights eyes.

The bling, the gewgaw glints,
the small of fake gold,
the shot passions of high skirts.

They form ordained disorderly lines
eager to bow before the bouncer,
to pour themselves
into the melee and scrum
the jumping pump of ecstasy.

Night life is wanting, is waiting,
it needs to club together,
to sweat the music,
to throb with the sound
of aortic rhythmic impulses,
to dance upon a crushed floor
breathlessly offering upwards
their erotic prayers,
on baited hooks of desire.

The young must,
they simply must,
and we trust they will be tired one day,
too tired, too busy, too distracted
as we are
to dance death away
while drugs snack on their meat.
Categories: gewgaw, poetry,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Trixie Wants to Write Poetry

meet my muse Trixie.
I want to draw.
she wants to play in the Thesaurus.
Trixie is a freebooter, marauder, pirate, she plans to win.

I sketch a monkey, elephant and acrobat.
I am in circus mode.
Trixie slams her green eyes over the big book.
she is persnickety, determined, and forceful.

fat blue Thesaurus is a harpy; she flips open.
I stare at these words - deaden, anesthetized, stupefy.
write them down! Trixie demands.
she is more trouble than a gewgaw, trinket or knickknack.

I avert my eyes, not wanting to play with words
now drawing a circus tent, and a popcorn box.
red and white striped popcorn box has arms and legs.
he sticks out his tongue in maniacal cartoon laughter.

Trixie flips some pages of this dreaded book.
gleaming, sparkling, glistening stand out.
magnify, enlarge and amplify bite me on the left arm.
I am not writing right now! I tell her.

she sticks out her tongue.
eager to work on a magnum opus, creative masterpiece.
I can hardly work on the giraffe.
curious I am to read words where she is pointing

lionize, glorify, elevate
vanish, disappear, dissolve
I begin drawing a lion, trying to break my muse's spell.
Categories: gewgaw, poetry,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Trixie Wants To Write Poetry

meet my muse Trixie.
I want to draw.
she wants to play in the Thesaurus.
Trixie is a freebooter, marauder, pirate, she plans to win.

I sketch a monkey, elephant and acrobat.
I am in circus mode.
Trixie slams her green eyes over the big book.
she is persnickety, determined, and forceful.

fat blue Thesaurus is a harpy; she flips open.
I stare at these words - deaden, anesthetized, stupefy.
write them down! Trixie demands.
she is more trouble than a gewgaw, trinket or knickknack.

I avert my eyes, not wanting to play with words
now drawing a circus tent, and a popcorn box.
red and white striped popcorn box has arms and legs.
he sticks out his tongue in maniacal cartoon laughter.

Trixie flips some pages of this dreaded book.
gleaming, sparkling, glistening stand out.
magnify, enlarge and amplify bite me on the left arm.
I am not writing right now! I tell her.

she sticks out her tongue.
eager to work on a magnum opus, creative masterpiece.
I can hardly work on the giraffe.
curious I am to read words where she is pointing

lionize, glorify, elevate
vanish, disappear, dissolve
I begin drawing a lion, trying to break my muse's spell.
Categories: gewgaw, muse, poetry,
Form: Free verse

The Emperor of Our Fairytales

The Emperor
hath donned a gewgaw crown,
bedazzled are the throng.

He rides an electric horse.
Strides through the pitiless cities
of lost or last hopes.
His faceless glance
not even a mask,
but a cold premonition
an iron mind
behind bolt-shut eyes.

The crowds back away,
bow and know
they are now subjects,
not even slaves,

only subjects
to be used and disposed of
at the ballot box.
Categories: gewgaw, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Get a Premium Membership
Get more exposure for your poetry and more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Reflection on the Important Things

Member Area

My Admin
Profile and Settings
Edit My Poems
Edit My Quotes
Edit My Short Stories
Edit My Articles
My Comments Inboxes
My Comments Outboxes
Soup Mail
Poetry Contests
Contest Results/Status
Followers
Poems of Poets I Follow
Friend Builder

Soup Social

Poetry Forum
New/Upcoming Features
The Wall
Soup Facebook Page
Who is Online
Link to Us

Member Poems

Poems - Top 100 New
Poems - Top 100 All-Time
Poems - Best
Poems - by Topic
Poems - New (All)
Poems - New (PM)
Poems - New by Poet
Poems - Read
Poems - Unread

Member Poets

Poets - Best New
Poets - New
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems Recent
Poets - Top 100 Community
Poets - Top 100 Contest

Famous Poems

Famous Poems - African American
Famous Poems - Best
Famous Poems - Classical
Famous Poems - English
Famous Poems - Haiku
Famous Poems - Love
Famous Poems - Short
Famous Poems - Top 100

Famous Poets

Famous Poets - Living
Famous Poets - Most Popular
Famous Poets - Top 100
Famous Poets - Best
Famous Poets - Women
Famous Poets - African American
Famous Poets - Beat
Famous Poets - Cinquain
Famous Poets - Classical
Famous Poets - English
Famous Poets - Haiku
Famous Poets - Hindi
Famous Poets - Jewish
Famous Poets - Love
Famous Poets - Metaphysical
Famous Poets - Modern
Famous Poets - Punjabi
Famous Poets - Romantic
Famous Poets - Spanish
Famous Poets - Suicidal
Famous Poets - Urdu
Famous Poets - War

Poetry Resources

Anagrams
Bible
Book Store
Character Counter
Cliché Finder
Poetry Clichés
Common Words
Copyright Information
Grammar
Grammar Checker
Homonym
Homophones
How to Write a Poem
Lyrics
Love Poem Generator
New Poetic Forms
Plagiarism Checker
Poetics
Poetry Art
Publishing
Random Word Generator
Spell Checker
Store
What is Good Poetry?
Word Counter