Best Haughtily Poems
There is no power greater than the Lord's, but there is a powerful lesson to be learned by not stumbling off on a fool's errand. That idiom is a phrase that explains the undertaking of a futile effort to find or prove something that is an impossible task. Thus, the effort becomes a waste of time and a fool's game to play. It is doomed to succeed from the start, even if the journey taken is by one with a good heart. The goal will never be reached when shrewd ones preach one thing and hand out rose-colored glasses to disguise words they speak but never practice. They tickle the ears of all who will listen, but the truth is what the naive ones will never hear. The real fool's errand is trying to unveil the fools who in spite of all efforts to conceal it, reveal themselves when the truth will out.
it's a waste of time
to go on a fool's errand~
fruitless endeavor
The phrase itself implies that it would be an unproductive effort and a lesson in futility such as Sisyphus rolling a boulder uphill only to watch it roll back down again. So, don't allow yourself to be disappointed, nor disjointed when the foolhardy in the world ..."don't know how to get along, yet, they pretend they've done nothing wrong."* It would be much wiser to avoid engaging with those who are always caught up in the throes of what they haughtily impose upon unsuspecting others. Excuse these added idioms, but they will help make the point about not getting a nose out of joint thinking a fool's errand is 'not my cup of tea.' Or, I'd rather 'call it a day' then chase a fool whose life has gone astray. Don't 'shoot yourself in the foot' by being a fool on an errand that will only prove to be 'a wild goose chase.'
in a world of fools
don't be duped to prove them wrong~
prove yourself wiser
* Sandra Feldman in her poem: 'Foolish World'
Only silence dresses her rigging now
To the call of the bosun’s whistle
Her hatches now stand locked and secure
Where long past sailors once lingered
She is the last of the old frigates
Moored in the shallows of Charlestown
Board her and hear her echoes of valor
Haughtily anchored her colors humbly fly
No blemishes on her hull show her battles
Her carronades still sit silently waiting
As she floats mythically at ease
For a moment I can hear the great moans
Her keel and sailors cresting Atlantic waves
To Captain Hulls orders to come about
And charge on the enemy ship Guerriere
On her decks I feel the plight of her dead
Hearing stories of centuries old bulkheads
Astounding feats of a morose pride
To have brought their foe to capitulate
Now she stands tacit though ever grand
And still on her decks and deep in the bowels
The mighty spirit of U.S.S. Constitution dwells
A monument of endurance softly whispering
“Lest we remember long forgotten sacrifices…”
Career assessment test
In college assessment office
Multiple choice test.
Choose your best answer.
Would you rather
Be to be a detective?
Video Game Designer?
Author?
Her write in answer:
Princess
Please.
Supervisor prematurely.
Rolls eyes
Silly her. She haughtily thinks.
Name of student
Meghan Markle
Now who Is laughing?
It's 3 a.m. The universal witching hour, so of course, I'm wide awake.
The snarly opossums are on the porch, fighting over a delicious corn-fed steak.
Sophie Dog is on the back of the couch, growling at an unseen spirit.
Heavy cigarette smoke smell assaults my nose, proof my father is near it.
He has been gone since '84, but at 3 a.m. this does not matter.
Mother-in-law throws a blue dish in the kitchen, an ominous clatter.
"I know you are here," I haughtily remind them. yet with a bit of force.
"No reason to throw dishes or blow smoke, go back to your heavenly source."
A quick glimpse out of the corner of my eye, a smile reminiscent of Lee.
Time to go back to bed and astral travel with my ancestors around me.
Detached from reality
He gazes haughtily
From the cold aloofness
Of his desolate pinnacle...
Far below
Dressed in vivid green and mauve
She patiently waits
Yearning to catch his wandering eye.
His face is stone cold, snow white
And yet he seems to notice me
A fledgling meadow
Needing sustenance to survive...
May passion's fire grow to melt his heart
So I, too, may thrive
And add a touch of colour
To his world of black and white.
----------------------------------------------------
Co-written by Paul Callus & Carolyn Devonshire
I was swimming in the ocean enjoying it so much
I back floated and relaxed with my cousins Mat and Hutch
All of a sudden Mat broke my dreamy thoughts with a scream
The water choppy, he was carried swiftly up stream
Two great whites were fighting over which would eat my poor Mat
So I chased after them and I smacked them with a big baseball bat
Is this human being serious? The biggest shark asked the other
I do not know the other shark replied but she looks like my mother
I am a grandma you dopes I said and I smacked each hard on the nose
This the smaller one said haughtily is not how this kind of shark story goes
So I jumped on his slick back. I bucked, screamed, jabbed, and I kicked
And I punched him and bit him, making him mad; his skin was quite thick
This land polluter is crazy the great whites agreed with some flair
So they gave me my cousin whom they had tossed in the air.
Because I liked it I gave them another bat smack across their noses
She is horrible! The great whites said as I hit them with hoses
Sure I got Matt back but due to those shark bullies he now he had PSTD
His swimming suit was gone, so he was sheepish being nude in front of me
So Hutch and I threw off our clothes and we all swam in birthday suits
But those sharks never came back, so glad they were finally loose
Detached from reality
He gazes haughtily
From the cold aloofness
Of his desolate pinnacle...
Far below
Dressed in vivid green and mauve
She patiently waits
Yearning to catch his wandering eye.
His face is stone cold, snow white
And yet he seems to notice me
A fledgling meadow
Needing sustenance to survive...
May passion's fire grow to melt his heart
So I, too, may thrive
And add a touch of colour
To his world of black and white.
----------------------------------------------------
Co-written by Paul Callus & Carolyn Devonshire
© March 2017
Though your eyes may not see it
when you look at me;
I am a child at heart.
Into my Crayola box of colors
I dive and dance;
my crayons, my best buds, shout,
“Pick me…pick me!”
I can’t decide and close
my eyes and grab one;
how it haughtily gloats upon the
page I am coloring.
I get excited when I color;
my crayon shouts,
“Don’t squeeze me so hard!”
I nearly drop it; I wasn’t expecting that;
crayons don’t usually protest.
When I am finished, there’ll be
jealous crayons who weren’t picked but,
I tell them, another picture is for you;
and they calm down.
Coloring releases my muse to play.
Children laugh when I tell them about
my competitive crayons;
It inspires them to color-dance
along with us.
2-4-19
Of Poetic Verse, A Heavenly Illumination
As Seen By Heaven's True Light
Vanity of shallow purple robe kings
Dismissive of Heaven's true saving light
Brutish and naked in darkness they sing
Haughtily shouting of their shallow might.
Robert J. Lindley, 70-?
Quatrain
*******
As Seen By Heaven's Soft Glow
Glittering stars illuminating night
As titans that vanished so long ago
We imagine them in eternal flight
And in distance merely a short stone's throw.
Robert J. Lindley, 70-?
Quatrain
*******
As Seen By Heaven's Beauty
Be softly calm and so quietly still
Let the soft flowing winds hear no sad cries
Tis love that eager heart so truly fills
And Heaven's beauty that graces night skies.
Robert J. Lindley, 70-?
Quatrain
Note: Three quatrains that were born back in the late 70's.
I do so regret whenever I find my old poems
with either no notes or else incomplete notes.
Let us go chase some tail I say
So we all run into the yard
Screeching our truth
Squirrels scatter
Now what? Trixie, my prissy muse asks.
Unamused by me; rather haughtily indignant
This is all you got?
Let’s not go to a store I suggest.
We play some music and dance our truth
Kickboxing our way through a living room of zombies
Who used to be relatives
But all died of same-oh, same oh.
The skeletons nod at us, their teeth chattering
Neighbor phones to ask us to put the music down.
A human voice! We are excited.
Pandemic zero today, us six as we begin roller skating in the house
After eating peanut butter pancakes and throwing water balloons out the window
Hitting no one as no one is here anymore
Let’s go mad, today Trixie suggests.
Too late
We are already there.
January 22, 2024
____________________________________
Divergent viewpoints can arise
Whilst triumphant variously savor
Glorious tune of achievement,
Gain glory as godly guile
Whilst booming into spring blooms
In fervor of zeal, vow faithfully
God bestows on them a swish tree
With a bountiful harvest
Its span is boundless
Akin to an everlasting ring,
However, clocks tick down
Daily weavings of divine honor.
Amidst lustrous obelisk
Unbeknown overall aesthetic
Sprawled across stars haze
My cosmic frame oozes to apex
I harness the strand in crimson
Widening warp and woof
Over that magnificent loom
Queries seldom yield effectiveness,
Sadness for their plight emerged
In bows and flowery swags
We ought to remember
Fetching a fresh format forward
Divine devotion developed.
We could detect tangles and flaws
Fairness shares justice and equity
The quest implies grace and faith,
A gorgeous layout with a top-ounce
We are haughtily proud,
Divine is eternally supreme
His work never stops, and
His weaving is always wise,
But we must remember that
We are an essential portion of it.
Let us embrace each day
As a raw opportunity to weave
A Halcyon design
With dedication and patience
We can grow the warp and woof
Over that majestic loom
Until we blossom, akin to flowers.
He had better be dead I told friends,
Making them smile, from ends to ends.
They thought I was being hilarious
I was truly, frankly being serious
He did not help at all, I informed them haughtily.
I was on a roll now, telling them a little bit snottily.
"You had better be dead!" I yelled to his false-acting back.
He was deep-snoring, his lying pretending to be asleep act.
I was on a roll now, entertaining my table and the next two.
Come on! A perfect stranger yelled. "What did you do?"
The place had stopped eating. It was all about me.
I have not done it yet, I informed her. But I will about three.
They followed me home, six tables of strangers and me.
They wanted to see, how assertive and mean I could be.
I put them in cages, and strung them up by their toes.
You should not follow strangers, as everyone knows!
As we departed for a long journey,
My heart punned with jocundity,
Had heard a lot about its beauty,
But didn’t know, will ‘be welcomed so haughtily,
As I propelled on non-native soil,
It seemed so preposterously royal,
Still there, ah I missed my home,
Oh where I could fearlessly roam,
Where the noise of rickshaws,
It seems so soothing the way it draws!
Where we wait for that oily heavy breakfast,
While licking my fingers I bet! I in contrast!
They pour so oil in them that would‘ve surpassed
The oil in deep ocean … that America cast!
They call east is submerged into Spirituality’s aptness
No but it is more traditional I say, tooting my profoundness!
Here nobody would be bothered if found felonious,
But if disobeyed family, would be considered vicious.
I’m telling you about the preciousness of my land,
About the norms people engulf, in my homeland,
We gather now and then to celebrate,
The loves we give each other, make us grate,
In my home, neighbors are never left alone,
Such a hospitality inn! Greeted as are our own
Girls wear the shirts, better shawled,
Which west calls modest but I say,
These are the values, in which they are mold,
These are our norms practiced since Islam borne!
Please don’t turn over from its today’s view
it still is the paradise though dark, I construe!
They met a demise so inglorious.
The culpable agent was the Varicella virus.
We were the vectors. It was none other than us.
Chalk up another deed of man that will be infamous.
The virus spread like wisps on the breeze.
It obliterated a civilization that lasted for centuries.
Any graduate from the college of hard knocks
can see these creatures died from chicken pox.
This once great city is now a ghost town.
First contact with humans is what brought them down.
So will you conquerors strut around haughtily with disdain?
I will see that these Martians did not die in vain.
Based on the set of short stories titled “The Martian Chronicles” by the late Ray Bradbury.
Brutus was always bad
But what can you expect from a liasion
When Molly the mare, met the Jackass
Brutus's dad?
Well here is the story about Brutus
Its a Mule, son of Molly and Rufus
Molly was a comely mare you see
Rufus looked like a Jackass in every degree
They didn't share any love or hate
But what brought them together was a twist of fate
My uncle wanted a worker you see
Something relentless, strong and mighty
To climb the valley, hills and the glen
In this capacity ,the mule was man's best friend
So a date was set for Rufus and Molly to meet
Out of the prying eyes of children to accomplish the feat
After Brutus trysts and dirty deed
Molly grew fat from Brutus's seed
Nine months later at the break of dawn
We had Brutus, Molly's craggy spawn
Now just after about a year had gone
Brutus grew sturdy and also strong
He looked more like a horse you see
An equine specimen we'll all agree
It was time for Brutus's schooling
In simple stages was the plan
Uncle Poppy, to be the leading Hand
The plan was hatched and the scene was staged
To gradually induce Brutus to his trade
We decided when Brutus was watered and fed
Uncle Poppy would mount his back and straddle his leg
Brutus didn't flinch nor did he complain
Haughtily Uncle Poppy patted Brutus's mane
Time after time he would sit on his back
Brutus stood still, but never moved a jot.
But composed and agreeable was our take
Then further progress we ought to make.
Pt 1