Best Guileful Poems
July 29, 1890
Colored daubs and swatches
crave artist’s practiced hand.
Justice, nearly blind, yet watches—
unwrought art upon a stand.
Regard the brushes in a row—
the palettes and the sponges.
Genius maimed by status quo,
vain a hope that fate expunges.
Guttered myriad lifelong dreams—
in desperate ruination.
Fading now the piteous screams
of self-inflicted termination.
Time Passes
Abruptly then adoring praise—
contrived their sudden expertise.
Rude cabal who would appraise—
byzantine their guileful sleaze.
Each masterpiece a servant
of craven yearn and greed.
Bang the gavel, swift and fervent;
sate purveyors’ inveterate need.
Justice now is truly blind;
vanished those She would impute.
His final piece is left unsigned;
and undisclosed, for now She’s mute.
4th Place: I Love Rock and Roll
Inspired by Don McLean's song, Starry Starry Night
Categories:
guileful, betrayal, corruption, evil, vanity,
Form:
Quatrain
What's worse than a malicious master of manipulation?
Two who join together to play Pin the Tail on their prey
Continuously and clamorously... asses love to bray
Cruelty is not always physical
Some take joy in messing with the mind
Blowing in like a blustering wind
with wicked words bringing them fame
of being labeled 'Keyboard Bullies'
Isn't that a repugnant name?
There's nothing casual about the pain
their cryptic cruelty causes, nor the disdain
Odious is the stench of ogres in the game they play
Beasts who feast on innocent folks
With a guileful grin they wound with keystrokes
Shots fired from wolves in sheep's clothing
They're gnashing teeth bite with loathing
Poisoned seeds of malice they sow
cawing to anyone who listens when they crow
With a nit-picking beak or crooked finger pointing,
they appoint themselves kings and queens,
then squat on a throne by self-anointing
Pathetic fools dwelling in a state of pretense
whose level of narcissism and bullying is immense
Sharpened are their tongues and pens used as tools
Quick to throw a gauntlet upon the ground
at what they presume is weak quarry
but how speedily they bay like injured hounds
when a righteous eye looks in their direction
Intimidation is a hallmark of their imperfection
The white flag wavers are filled with ire
Waffles, covering themselves in sweet syrup talk
claiming they're the victim. What a crock!
Their feet should be held in the fire
No one should be a casualty of their cruelty
Disparaging others is a painful assault
The fault of aggressors who crave attention
Keyboard bullies causing conflict and dissension
Living in their dark world... the cyber dimension
Categories:
guileful, bullying,
Form:
Rhyme
Dark chocolate eyes bore into me,
Beseeching, brimming, tunneling for truth.
A single tear trails silently
Cascading o’er lifted cheekbones so
Perfectly angled they’re matchless
Throughout nature’s beauty scheme.
Exquisite, ethereal amber skin is
Glistened by a single path tracking south
Till brushed tentatively aside and away
With a deliciously delicate crook’d index finger.
Adjusting focus with a bow, her upturned glance
Begs understanding, explanation.
Crimson lips, lavish in their trembling,
Part in silent query, “Why”?
Two years ten days no joy could compete.
Renowned in circles select, discreet,
Our couple bid the daily world depart.
Sealing curtains leaked primal sun bright-strewn
‘cross comely sheets, fantasy games oft fulfilled.
No doubt the future shined, out there.
Sparkling horizons, her urgent beckoning.
Glacial azure eyes avert at this sight
Of flawless beauty marred by an unrequited
Inky threshold placed anew across
The spectrum of her charted dream.
Cooling cooing stills her tears momentarily,
Hypocrite rising fresh, predicted.
Hope extended but a moment more,
Remembered embraces reenacted
Pacifying heart-ripping avalanches
Sure to embalm, feigning calm,
Endless love promised, bestowed,
Bloomed, embezzled,
Freshly bamboozled...still,
By her guileful paramour.
~~~~~~~~~ (the goodbye lie)
Categories:
guileful, abuse, betrayal, character, relationship,
Form:
Free verse
A twinkle in her eyes tonight
evokes the thought that they invite,
though I recall, not long ago
my absence seemed more apropos.
The laughs that linger on her lips
bare more than many verbal slips -
the times they pierced me, sad and grim,
lie in the past, though far from dim.
She flayed me once... nay, more than twice,
she flayed me both with flames and ice,
and once again, predictably,
she primes me for catastrophe.
Our friends and foes naively watch
her try to carve a deeper notch,
for even they don't seem to know
the depths to which she'd really go.
Upon my face a pose appears
which hides my thoughts, obscures my sneers,
for now I too have learned the rules
from her - ah, yes, the best of schools.
Because I'm acting somewhat cool,
thus pouring on her fires, fuel,
she burns and yearns and wants me more
than when I was her cuspidor.
She (unbeknownst, I'm not the same)
pursues again her guileful game.
But when her tears descend and swell,
will she be proud she taught me well?
The others leave, I stay behind
(they all know what she has in mind) ,
embrace her in my arms once more,
beguile her through her bedroom door.
She whispers secrets in my ear,
as I once did (she didn't hear);
I listen, flash some mirthless smiles,
my thoughts adrift to desert isles.
The night is passed, her trusting grows;
I leave before the morning glows.
Aroused, she'll seek a waking thrill
but find instead a dollar bill.
Categories:
guileful, love, smile,
Form:
Rhyme
a diabolical grace ...
dark, deep, warm-black arms of
an endless night wrap me ...
head thrown back in abdication -
arms spread wide in surrender,
falling backward, back, back, onto a
hard dogwood blackness ...
nails of my own stark weakness
fasten my hands to a
weighty tree of terrifying introspection ...
poison saturates my blood,
courses with its curses through the
very vessel my soul inhabits ...
dictates to me by the minutes the
movements of my muscles,
states of my vapid organs, thus ...
responses and emotions, true,
like the visceral, mighty hand of some
morbidly jealous god, squeezing
the true and the good from every last
cell of my being - the strength
and health built by a lifetime of good
habit and task, torn asunder
by a guileful beast - a duplicitous, faceless
monster that I invited in from
wintertide like some pitiful, starving fawn ...
oh, it IS pitiful in its treachery,
and it starves - oh yes, it starves ...
with a hunger for souls and
lives and accomplishments and truth,
and it eats them ALL with a
lust unending, and a ravenous fury,
laughing at you with a Cheshire
grin, your own warm, crimson blood on
its shining, chiseled teeth ...
and while you tremble in horror at
its stark visage, while you
stare transfixed into lifeless black eyes,
the face changes, the abomination
transforms into a beauty so pure and
compelling, that your only
thought and desire and compulsion,
is to drink it in with a kiss as
deep as the Universe itself .. to pour
yourself into it with every
passion and emotion you can scrape
from the ice-flaked walls of
your conscience, to merge with it, join it
in all abandon and care and
affliction, and give yourself whole to the
dim, shadowy vehemence
complete, while the deafening roar of your
own screams and scratchings,
plays a somber requiem, final - a sickly
sweet song ...
of obliteration.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Brainstorm" Poetry Contest, John Hamilton, Judge & Sponsor.
Categories:
guileful, abuse, addiction, analogy, introspection,
Form:
Free verse
'I love you' moistens on your lips
I watch it, breathless, as it drips
coating, sweet, my foolish heart
now hopeless in its guileful grips
once I trilled that phrase to you
so sweetened it was mostly true
yet now there's bitter aftertaste
that sourly whispers chilled adieu
how often have I played the game
and uttered myths, the very same
fomenting, then, those like replies
that light the apt and artful flame?
I feign to count them in my head
those subtle stories told, instead
of placing faith for righteous love
and by that honest heart, be led
so now the gambol's back to me
to deal through cold inclemency
its keening card, the last guffaw
and not waste efforts on a plea
you drizzle damp, the lie again
the ruin of much stronger men
I swallow thus the poison mine
to tend my heart its last amen.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Love Poem" Poetry Contest, Heidi Sands, Judge & Sponsor.
Categories:
guileful, desire, irony, love hurts,
Form:
Rubaiyat
for F. A.
You, in going a little way from yourself
Have gone a long way from my gullible ilk.
« I’m trying hard not to like you, » you said
The breaths of several men surging in your nostrils
And the stench abraded in your flesh :
« You are unshaven. »
You took proper care to remember the right words :
« Why are you so far away, I cannot reach you. »
The ****** you probably tried to fake –
Thanks for the repeated protestations -
Blew all the other exhausted noises through.
« I think it’s all this lack of sleep and all that, » you said
Trapping me with your alien scents.
You have gone away more than a little from yourself.
I have felt and avoided the humiliation in your voice :
« Turn out the lights. I’m afraid
You’d never like me again. »
These are bothersome words.
Only constant repetition make them less wearisome.
One whole week you waited and watched.
One by one you chalked us down.
We fled, not so much from you
As from ourselves, not knowing which
You or the condemned flower to take :
« Why don’t you tell me something about yourself.
I’ve said enough, » you said and came closer
Wraithed in your trapper's overflying airs.
Now that you have prospected a little
Confiscated my intimate thoughts, coaxed my ego
Applied the guileful balms which embolden
A man in bed and made of the future a promise
And turned and sighed like the unwanted thing
Now that you have preyed in my sanctuary
Gazed long in wistful silence my empty shrine
How can I let you go – take my scent
And mix it till it roots in other flesh
And wandering, I’ll not know why someday
I might fret in the company of familiar strangers.
« What about the lad ? » Alone and wishfully loitering
« Oh, let him toss and turn. Why shouldn’t he ?
He’ll write better then, » you said, for once
Rippling the nimble calm embossed on feigning face
That poised flutter of your lips when words you wield
Assume a dextrous innocence
Little wonder then the sensually provoked blushes
Cross-fertilise the loping lurk of your poems.
You in going a little way towards me
Have gone a long way from yourself.
Before you go a little way prospecting
Leave leave a little of yourself in your safe.
©: T. Wignesan, 1965 (from the collection: tell them i'm gone, 1983, rev. 2012)
Categories:
guileful, girlfriend-boyfriend, words, me, me,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
No more disloyal and
unfaithful,
If call allegedly is
painful,
For what thee
supposed,
And finally, thee
opposed,
No more regretful
and remorseful,
If called rebel and
untruthful,
For what thee
blamed,
And finally, thee
lose famed,
No more curse and
deceitful,
If called liar and
unfaithful,
For what thee
craved,
And finally thee
paved,
No more betrayal and
guileful,
If called
untrustworthy and
slickful,
For what thee not
deserve,
And finally thee not
preserve,
No abuse, greater
than disloyalty,
If call allegedly is
criminality.
Shahid Hussain
Chouhdry
Categories:
guileful, loss,
Form:
Quatrain
What is this?
Spit at me, will you??
Hiss and spit and rattle your tail?!?
Be my guest, oh Great Coiled One ...
You are king, after all, and I but a fool!
But THIS jester has dealt with your kind before ...
Oh, yes, and far, FAR worse!
There is another creature that shames you in its ferocity ...
Her temperamental and capricious airs
Hold much more menace and fury!
Oh, she can rival the worst of your ire ...
Bare her fangs, hiss and snarl, rattle her tail, and strike ...
She is easily the most formidable opponent man has ever known,
Yet her most insidious and treacherous trait
Is the exquisitely captivating form that wraps her ...
Heaven help us, we are naught but powerless before it!
Oh, it is a deadly and guileful costume, indeed -
A slinky guise that takes your breath at one moment ...
And the next, brings you weeping to your wobbly knees!
So, do your worst, Asp ...
Bring your wicked wrath to bear,
For I have met my match,
And she laughs at your feeble folly
Even now ... this ...
Woman.
Categories:
guileful, analogy, animal, beauty, metaphor,
Form:
Free verse
Simply softly these guileful feet do trot
Those cavalier whisper my name in glee
Hiding I pray from dear loves noble lot
My attire a smirk, though my voice distraught
I'll squirm far away, yet they be carefree
Simply softly these guileful feet do trot
A fervor shared though I am not caught
Innocuous yet gentle I agree
Hiding I pray from dear loves noble lot
Conceivably hidden in such a spot
Amenity relaxation could be
Simply softly these guileful feet do trot
Quickly to safety overhead I plot
Why does all the attention land on me?
Hiding I pray from dear loves noble lot
Perhaps one day I'll play whilst being sought
But as a cat I may just disagree
Simply softly these guileful feet do trot
Hiding I pray from dear loves noble lot
Categories:
guileful, adventure, cat, perspective,
Form:
Villanelle
In this now troubled world, man’s hope falls,
as dire need for peace remains unsettled
even besieged: and awakening voices roar,
to soothe nights of delirium, of alarm…
While I , a mere mortal among all races
flame my hands, writing about indigent children,
terrorism, heinous crimes which scar beings---
beyond these, my heart weeps when egregious
plunder of nature inflicts the environ!
Though nations mediate, the obtuse reasoning
of leaders consecrate their holy gifts as ego
those masks guileful as puppetry to obscure avarice…
For the deepening of collective oneness resides
in a delicate yet brave spirit, perhaps unseen--
faith’s light enkindling this hunger for unity
maybe, laying global discord to rest.
8/30/2019
For John Hamilton's Eight word challenge 9 Contest
Categories:
guileful, angst, conflict, world,
Form:
Free verse
You believe me to be an altruistic man as I smile with sneering reluctance.
You may think me gentle as I extend my hand in goodwill, but degraded am I as I wistfully watch my hand recoil from your filthy phalanges with its foul clutch.
You wave me off poised as I stand here in this field laden with perennial flowers as they stir aloft, but unbeknownst to you I berate you as you retreat afoot and go forth from my company into the night.
You deliver beautiful words in my image unto your friends, but I carry your name with seething indiscretion into the fire.
You entitle me as a "friend", but I explicitly fornicate your secrets as I spitefully scathe and scoff unto you.
You divulge your mysteries but I deprecate them and take exception to your standing as I plunge you within rueful nether worlds foreboding in treachery and wretchedness...
Why? For I have no pride unto you.
You place your life you into my palm and recite proverbs appealing for my heart unto yours, but guileful am I and in wicked glee do I carry unto the grave your beauty with its secrets.
You inscribe me as a "fiancée" into forever without recognising the falsifier whose witness bears mistaken.
You smile as your recite dreams aforementioned in times bygone, but I chastise you, and your children do I condemn into hell for their fondling fledgling and fornicated perversions.
You call me a "friend", but I am forever you
Categories:
guileful, absence, abuse, farewell, grief,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Frantically, I walk on a lane of vile secrets,
past glared dazes from hooded eyes
marking me as obsession’s target where a quest
to nail me taunts my fear : with endless
shrieks echoing , “ I will follow you, “ … a voice
raspy as brittle tones imposes its eerie
presence. And I quiver in coiled form,
Helpless, while the breath of uncertainty
wipes the restful assurance of most nights:
In a click of time, life smells danger
knowing not if those taloned hands would
clutch me in the darkness or light.
All at once, I watch myself drenched
In the cloud of foreboding , torturing
my lucid hours now haunted by one
incensed predator. Until I confront this
ghastly shadow laden with karmic
sins, wolves of yesterday assaulting my every
breath's intake…that I come face to face
with this damned nemesis in guileful pursuit
and the nemesis which haunts my spirit …is me.
Written for Silent One: STALKER 11/13/2017
Categories:
guileful, mirror, self,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
Unclothed in the morning mist…
In a garden paradise
Man and woman walked naked - hand in hand
Beautifully unbraided in the dawn of the aurora
Created by the Master…
The One and only One
Their images opulent- in the clear silence of radiance
Surrounded by beauty in His palatial gardens
They stood in naked luster
Born without blemish or stain
Until the devil slid along beside them
Burning their eyes with sin...
And their bodes connected by rib and clay
Satan silently roared his evil deceit…
In his shameful hated ways staining forever...
The color of life
And the pale ghosts of the future...
Which would be lost to his guileful diabolical ways
But hope rings eternal…
For God did not send us out among strangers
He provided us His ways
To outsmart that imposturous angel
And for us to blossom…
In the dust of Adam and Eve’s lust
Categories:
guileful, god, heaven, hope,
Form:
Free verse
She thought I loved her for the texture of her hair
Yes, but I also loved her for her flair
We thought that our love will always float in the air
We were sure, and for this we stood foursquare
She thought I loved her for the cocoa brown color of her skin
I could care less because that’s not the reason for our love’s tailspin
Our souls were joined at some point in passion like a Siamese twin
Long before our popular love turned into a devotion that had-been
Perhaps we expected our actions to always be so circumspect
Love is conditional, relationships need an emotional architect
So, she thought I loved her for the velvet cavity betwixt her thighs
I don’t apologize, she is a powerful woman, or else please advise
She thought I am a man-shaped drug the detox to which is painful
Till I remembered that many of her devotional phrases were so guileful
Saying that she has been in a hole for so long that it started feeling like home
Saying that she has been watering a dead flower and every flaw was a syndrome
Saying that she has justified to many scars by loving a person who’s holding a knife
Saying that she would rather be in a relationship that is full of love and life
Saying that she has her boundaries pushed, her thing inside has been awakened
You might wonder whether her hitting-the-freeway had already been preordained
From the oceans of love, our feelings have been invited ashore
The absences of which each of us can barely account for
Perhaps we expected ourselves to be as perfect
Little did we know that in this prison of letdown we’re a convict
But should every slip-up we confect be checked?
Every box of that which doesn’t connect us be ticked?
We dwell with the denizens of the deep - our ship’s wrecked
We both know that we don’t need a restraining order
To come to the grips of it that it is over
Lips that taste the tears, they say are the best for kissing
I pray that you save the kissing for your engagement ring
So, then I can be happy that I dried my tears to see the stars
When the sun was gone and that only memories will remain ours
Categories:
guileful, for her,
Form:
Free verse