Best Guiles Poems
Lovely blossoms of bougainvillea
Under a moonlight serenade
Ostensibly I contemplate the root
Of the affinity drawing me to you
Abiding fighter and bounteous lover
Rendering your essence freely
For the love of the gift
Candid without a care
Asking for less than nothing really
A few drops of water enough for sustenance
You have no scent nothing to call your own
Or to flaunt your offering
Subtle faint understated and low-key
Waiting to be discovered
To be loved and treasured
Simply for what you are
And not for guiles ruses or ploys
Swaying silently you wait as I
In the moonlit summer breeze
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on June 22, 2019 for contest sponsored YOUR CHOICE FLOWER VERSE sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - RANKED 1ST
and on March 17, 2019 for contest BOUGAINVILLEA sponsored by CRAIG CORNISH
Women come and go in my dreams,
Young, not so young and quite young,
But the trouble is,
They are formless,
Tempting, enticing, seductive.
The dreams make it difficult,
To see their eyes, teeth and lips,
What colour is their skin,
What size is their bosom.
They look at me
With the alluring-eyes
But I know quite well
They are there with their guiles.
Still I try to reach them
With my arms to environ.
They try to stop me with tight fists
But ready to receive me inside.
+++
July 31, 2005
Form: Free verse
Reflections of Love
Where are we going, for love we chase
To places unknowing and cannot keep pace
Sometimes fleeting, others at length
Always defeating our will and our strength
It spins like a feather on whirling pond
Fixes no tether and guiles the beyond
It falls from the sky, erupts from the sea
It does not ask why and is never free
It is all around, waiting to link
Not easily found as we may think
A shoulder it taps, direction it guides
Sensation unwraps but destiny hides
It’s hit and it’s miss, so often it tries
With mystical kiss, we don’t realise
Where we are going, for love we chase
A place never knowing, yet long its embrace
For ‘Reflections of Love’ Contest
Poem written 4 March 13 by R D Seal
Odin's Brood
Tyr, Ziu and Saxnot triple threats to the giants*
Hermoor, Heimdallr, Magni and Thor all so defiant
gods of might and power, protectors of sweet earth
Odin's brave brood , courage and strength since birth
Vali, so very set on revenge and great destruction
so skilled in the guiles of seduction and abduction
Mani, shines with force , moon god of the mighty Norse
attempts seducing Nott , goddess of night , of course
Ullr , god of the winter, the hunt and sword duel
tricked by evil Loki that thought him a great fool
Sjofn, temptress , shining majestic goddess of love
that inspires freyja in love, and battle far above
Odin, that set the universe , the mysteries of life
frigga that bore him the sons of glory and paradise
All players in the Nordic thoughts of darkness and light
each serving to stir man's ardor and great zeal to fight
Greatest of all was the powerful legend of mighty Thor
that roamed the earth , destroying evil shore to shore
The bravest son of all Odin's great, mischievous clan
replacing mighty Tyr in the eyes of justice and man!
07/01/2014
giants* (The Jötnar are a mythological race that live in Jötunheimr, one of the
nine)
Speakers of Old Norse called them jötnar (singular jötunn, pronounced
roughly “YO-tun”) or þursar (singular þurs, pronounced “THURS” like the first
element in “Thursday” but with a soft “s” at the end). Jötunn comes from the
Proto-Germanic *etunaz and means “devourer.” The Old English eóten is a
cognate (it means the same thing and comes from the same Proto-Germanic
word).[1] Þurs is derived from the Proto-Germanic þurisaz and means
something like “powerful and injurious one” with a secondary connotation
of “thorn-like.” The Old English ðyrs and Old High German duris are cognates.
Earth
Mono syllables are potent
But are best left untouched
They call for a gargantuan grasp.
For this monumental mono
Commonplace,though
With a contemporary spin,
A monologue just wont do.
And without a twin,
Its original ware ,hard and soft ,
Ever a win-win
Holder of holocausts
Moulder of magnificence
Fairly fed on presaging gods
Fielding primordial fate
Flourishing and floundering
Female-male fecundity
Llipid life limpet like stuck
In non- finite lines, measured out
And treasured nonetheless
In miles and guiles,
Millennia and manias
Form: Freeverse
3 May 13
S.Jagathsimhan Nair
For Giorgio's ' Impress me-5' contest.
Motif: Philosophical, old poem
At last, by night, that tarries late,
they hurry home, to Father's rage,
without a chance to plot their way.
The floodgates fail, as the young miss cries.
A handsome lad, pleads with his eyes,
while telling tales, of how and why
their carriage failed, with strokes of luck
which stuck them on the muddy trail
This fate that the chokes the airless room,
has clouded starlight in their eyes,
and fills the mood with doubts and gloom.
~
An angry Father, waiting long,
behind a frown, as sun goes down
then, with the rise, of devil's moon,
he hears the drum of horses hoofs,
that come at last, and none too soon!...
He had watched the clock count off the hours,
with endless pacing, of the floors.
While mother, fair, and worrisome,
in wilt despair, will hold him now,
to keep his anger in control.
She wrings her hands, and silently
prays her sweet lass, innocently,
was not delayed by guiles of love,
which meant no harm. But with such charms,
was this suitor captive of her smile?
Or were they then so swept away,
by winsome songs, and star's display,
by all love's wiles, and moonlight rays?
Young damsel, fair, who stole the hour
is left a flower, quite untouched
but as a suitor now he must
declare his honor and his hand
'Tis that.....
of which they will demand !
____________________________________________________________
For the Contest Inspired by the painting of Charles Haigh Wood
Sponsored by Isaiah Zerbst
9/19/13
I hear someone a-knockin’ at my door,
It’s you again, have we not had enough?
The problem is a complete lack of respect,
Well, your disfavor is shared no need to bluff.
I am much smarter aware of the tricks,
It’s you again, these guiles made me tough,
The problem is your way or just hit the road,
Well, your roadway is rigid spited with rough.
I grew my growth away from your tree,
It’s you again, rage hidden by fluff,
The problem is kindred but with spirit lost,
Well, your heart lacks craze among lovin’ stuff.
I insist you go with that same ol’ leave,
It’s you again, blazing amidst all the slough,
The problem is clear with no extra toll,
Well, your smoke is long gone merely a puff.
……………………………………………………………
Contest Entry: Desperate Housewife
Sponsored by: Poet Destroyer A
Placement: 7th Place
Absurd as it may sound
Appreciate life as it is found
Admirable thought and profound.
Cat on the wall
Caught in its caterwaul
Costly mistake of wrong choice
Emits a purr and a mew
Engineer scraps design for new
Excellent cast of the dies.
Golden blessings from above
Generous dolings of love
Genial nature without lies.
Iris is the window of soul
Iota of envy is the mole
Irritable mind leads to guiles.
Kindly is the heart of compassion
Knock down the doors of ostentation
Kink of the mind conscience defiles.
Orange and apple are unalike
Over these comparison don't strike
Order of creation differences implies.
Lastly, of my wisdom with words
Use your pens instead of swords
Hope all I've said is wise advice.
~07 Jul 2016~
Time Taken : 45 Minutes
Contest: Make A Poem Sponsored by Shadow Hamilton
Write me a poem using the 21 words listed below
any subject that fits with these words is acceptable
please use a form that rhymes
Poems of 8 lines minimun and 24 maxium
word list
Absurd, appreicate, admirable
cat, caught, costly
emits, engineer, excellent
golden, generous, genial
iris, iota, irritable
kindly, knock, kink
orange, over, order
Scathing these miscoloured orbs of sight, with incised rocks carved beneath
Concretionaries jagged edges of contagiums....
Painted upon the predominating canvas of perceptions dank, pasteled times!
So what has changed, this mosaic of histories collective collage?
As one way or another many, infused, inebriate their thoughts to inertia
Binding and bound; within these thicker links of connotations chains....
While they bury their bleeding nails into walls; immersed within darker days
Wherein few lives withdraw completely these claws, of concourses contaminating
Which extends itself polymorphously, deeper....
This unknowing muted muse amongst, everbearings, everyway?!
Unto the very core within, bleaksomes mangled maze, of, adapted art....
This abstract and blurried shadow of vagues, prolific presentations
How to pound the hearts into tears, of burnings coffins, set ablaze
Amid the dawning of insanities decrying of decrepits, decores, so displayed....
Within these assylums waiting for their fills
Beyond, the ghostly bars of Baals, notes, now played
By this 'Phantom of The Operas' corpse; deceivings decay, exhumed....
These flaming embers of ashes; fortiums pins of pain!
The crows casting within corners; like shackles upon most; the guiles, of guildeds shame?
This sifting of flour to find the implosion of caverns
Crashing, upon themselves to the suffocating truths, of, their often buried alive....
Subsisting encased within the cages like creatures, placed on exhibit?
An example, of the modern day creations, lifted from the poisoned palettes, of Palladians ways
Swirling within these inversions; smoke upon the rise....
Black splashings, atop the pavement of profounds
Sculptors, with their crucifying knives!
More concise within their uncompromising; binding the bound, within these thicker links of
chains
While they bury their bleeding touch, into the walls of this darklings darkest haze
Wherein few souls escape such palindromic brushings
These, emdedded pigments, of the palinodes days of daze....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Contemporary Art!?
Yea, victors jest. They out-sped the cast of hunger’s cave.
Their cantors, ragged kept, did reach an faithful end.
They in the din o’ drizzle laugh, licking cool drams from stone,
as had they crawled o’er hot pools bled to prod ‘n prattle.
And who’d, when quenched, a saunter risk simply to gaze at greener gray,
who if by haze be fraught, need merely fathom sky?
Lest be displeasured he to whom above could clouds be prone to tattle,
go but shy requests, voiced dryly into azure.
For so the victims passed, betrayed by breeze and snitch of brush,
though Him on High, with just demand, they had beseeched.
Each life a tale brought to lie, defaced, in scattered, muddy tomes.
Torn is the silver lace, which once linked bone to bone.
Yet risen, too, had wanton sighs, whereof his Mightiest to ask,
whilst the ground, as should it care, received the rasps.
For what doth emptiness command and what the unseen sovereign willeth
are left matters later glibly to be bantered.
Know oft’ the hunt finds one befuddled, spelled by guiles of a wraith.
No taunt of tail waves, no wake of twig gives sway.
With head to hang, his rack he gathers in a push to halt
to stand bequeathed a chide of birds and chipmunk heckles.
There, the timber rout delays with naught but mettle left to drain,
as the mars of rock and thistle mark the wait.
Chafe of paw, tongue feathered fowl, the foiled dashes stream to words,
whereto the blood, in ruddy tones, by droplets trickles.
Out of her hounds tooth, slanderous slobber
Utilizing her foot paws, she toenails the ice
Transcending into the deep, would surely silence her
Save her chattering mouth tick, accompanied by cracks
Imagining each step twice, she cautions
Daring looks backward for telling traces of breakage
Evil had yet seen what lurks beneath
Reels she, with pitch and rotation falls full
Slipping into the creature’s fang, she rolls
Unnerved, she hears the crunch of her rule, changing hands
Matching her closed mouth to the pain
Morph-inflicted through another,
Oscillating she disappears immeasurably
Near death returns to the belly
If consequences denounced, are affirmed
Naked will, is gliding through the torrential waves
Grub-Broken spirit, is no longer her concern
Terse, having but one breath to gasp
Once tender morsels are regurgitated
Reminders of a coward’s prayer
Trip, fall silent amidst the internal hate
Usurped they press forward, amongst forgotten names
Rusty pieces dance between the guiles of myth
Eventually
Repositioning, once again
Swallowed up by impregnated blame
Twice In shadows, neath a flowing stream
Obtuse this float, the entrails, tail and claw
Gather near the bend of endless screams
Evening tide the beast is but the devils dream
There is not, in truth, just here, as all there is
Heartfelt vile sup-positioning in formal fashion
Encased in hollow howls of woe and misery
Re-envisions untold atrocities here on planet passion
Total Fiction
Submitted for consideration in Deborah Guzzi’s
“Something wicked this way comes” Contest
pink
season
tickled pink
silken flowers
Magnolias preen
Sakura gleams
pretty pinks
eye guiles
wink
(2/16/22)
Love
An enigma that knows not the count of time
A vast ocean, measureless its borderlines,
Astral light, the luscious light of smiling moon
Heavens can't fathom its pleasant, charming guiles.
If it catches a heart unguarded, it plunders
Makes it yield to vast domains and heaven highs;
Now with secret signals, now with puzzling ways,
Tells such stories of heart tongue can't verbalize.
From its glory height if a splendorous sign one sees,
He or she will not distinguish gain or loss.
In a moment it can seize the reins of reason
In its mind, fiction or fact's an even toss.
If a beggar should approach its lofty heaven
Such a height no king is apt to realize.
With a shafting flame it will cause an upheaval
It surpasses Milky Way in its ascendance.
If a heart should be a target of its arrows,
It will no longer know of patience or endurance.
Qasem Ghazanfar
Translated from the original Persian
by the author.
BALLAD OF STRANGER.
I have come from a far off land
A stranger on the greyer steed
Thence I have seen my true love
Where all sweetness of her resides.
She is a maid of starry nights
With hint of wistfulness in her eyes
Having tasted her starlit fenced gaze
A pause for a moment to contemplate.
Honest I have seen such a lass
From dazzling beauty shading eyes
And pity for my heart to loose, sighs
Because her beauty has so many guiles.
No more I will bemoan my fate
I will tell the tale again and again
I have drunk from decanter of wishes
Blessed be my fair maid and her kisses.
Bags and bags of rolls of
Wrapping paper sat in piles
By the curb as passersby
Revealed their New York guiles.
The store must not have had the room
To keep them for a year,
So why not spread the wealth around
And help them disappear?
Some people grabbed a handful
Which looked very Christmasy;
Three rolls with smiling snowmen
Seemed appropriate for me.
The takers grinned and marveled
At this unexpected gift.
I wonder, then, how many,
Once at home, were slightly miffed…
For close inspection showed each roll
Was slit from stem to stern,
Reminding me that nothing’s free,
A lesson I should learn.
To look a gift horse in the mouth
Is never deemed correct,
But there are times that certain gifts
Are ones we should reject.