Best Headliner Poems


Leonardo Vs Michaelangelo

Michaelangelo: 1475-1564    Leonardo Da Vinci: 1452-1519                  


Michaelangelo is one of the most famous artists of the Italian Renaissance,
born in Caprice Italy with his mother dying when he was one month old-
His father Lodovico raised him until he had reached his adolescence,
he had always discouraged Michaelangelo from the arts, so the story was told.

Leonardo Da Vinci was the most renowned Renaissance man from Italy.
He was born out of wedlock and raised by his father and grandparents-
He received very little education but proved his fine abilities for artistry,
became an apprentice to Andrea del Verrocchio, his aptitude was apparent.

Michaelangelo painted a few masterpieces, but sculpting was his vocation,
remaining in Rome and recognized for his artistic aesthetic virtuosity-
He carved the “Pieta” a sculpture of Mary holding Jesus, a beautiful illustration,
the “Sistine Chapel” and “David” became his most refined ingenious legacy.

In the year of 1495 Leonardo was unexpectedly recognized and commissioned
to paint “The Last Supper”, the Passover taking three years to complete-
“Mona Lisa”, is the most distinguished painting giving him utmost recognition,
but this gifted artist enjoyed living a placid lifestyle, staying discreet.

An artisan challenge was made between the best renaissance designers,
a sculptor and a painter who were jealous of each other’s techniques-
superiority was raised with haste to become the greatest fresco headliner,
both gave up the challenge, moved away and never again did they speak.


"A good painter has two chief objects to paint- 
man and the intention of his soul"
-Leonardo Da Vinci


Historical Rivalry: Leonardo Da Vinci  vs. Michaelangelo

Date Written: September 3, 2016

Zebra Star

There once was a zebra from China.
Who liked to sing songs in D minor.
    His voice was the rage
    When they put him on stage.
He rode out of town a headliner!


For Deborah Guzzi's Limerick II Contest

She Can Can Do the Can Can

Off to the big audition to be a showgirl
This lofty lady her big head all a swirl

In the grandstand was the grand plan
She knew she can can do that can can

At least at one point she thought she could could
Perhaps those old joints don't bend so good good

But damn the odds she took that mainstage
And kicked like hell to turn a new page

She shocked the pants right off those judges
So no regrets could hold old grudges

Could it be the next great show headliner
Be this ancient bobblehead with eye liner

Well!... No, that's not quite realistic really
But what a story!.. a bit simplistic and silly

The truth of this big noggin at one hundred 
Was a standing ovation and compromise said

The judges gave her free passes for the show
Kick it up a notch now and then, or you'll truly never know


Headliner Freedom of Press

If you have read one                                                                                            corporate journalism bland                                                                                           adding it's flavor
© John Beam  Create an image from this poem.

Collab Series 7 Bill's Side Richard Pickett Shogun Series

Cont…”Bill Jump in my car it’s closer!”  Bill was just a step behind Brick as they hurdled 
over the tape barrier and raced to Brick’s car.
     “You got it pardner! Don’t stop or I’ll be in your hip pocket!  Brick got 
to the driver’s door first and Bill had all he could do to get in and slam the door as Brick 
swerved into the traffic, got the siren blaring with the blue lights bubbling off the hard top.  
The tires squealed hell bent for rubber for about three seconds down Walters Ave before 
they pulled a u-turn and headed one eighty out.  “Sorry ‘bout that, Brick hollered, “I caught 
a glimpse of the perp jumping off the side rail and headed back in this direction!”
     “Okay thanks for the warning!", Bill yelled back as he hoisted himself up the seat with 
the strap handle while trying to scan for the outlaw.
About that time, Brick swerved around a trash truck, jumped a median and throttled it up 
another street.

     “Say Brick, I’ve been meaning to ask you..you got a driver’s license or a 
 facsimile thereof?!”  “Huh?  What the hell’s a license?!  Hey I think he crossed over into that 
alley behind Stogey’s”,  Brick yelled as he spun the steering wheel hard
bobbing and crunching the car over another median and power skidding the swerving squad 
car back on course.  Bill had all he could do to keep his head from smashing into the 
headliner above the visor.

“Smooth, Brick! Smooth!  You been practicing eh?!  Sorry about my head denting
Your roof!” he quipped while searching the streets for the fugitive.
      “Hey no problem he yelled over the roaring engine and skidding tires, you can fix
It later!… I’m nice like that!”

“Is that the alley up ahead, Brick?”
“Yeah that’s it!”  “Lemme off here and I’ll cover this end of it!”
“Right! I’ll spin around the other end and we”ll put the squeeze on him!”  Brick 
Screeched to an almost stop as Bill scrambled out, un shouldered his 9mm and
ducked inside a doorway.  He peeked around the corner to see Brick already
veering around the corner all sirens and blinking lights…(to be cont…)

Premium Member Wuz Up Brother of the 70's-Huh

 you perm and prime you shun;
You polish up your own stone;
You talk trash and jive;
You shine of uncertainty;
While yet you continually promise me;
Heller Shelter relish tones;
Cut my landline telephone;
Imprison me where you say I belong;
give me plenty of accreditation;
Concrete placement prevarication;
Who is my judge, where is my jury;
Placement on "HOLD" it's my mister-minor, huh!!
What is this a joke,
And just what is a JUKE JOint?
Fancy dancer, Chicago headliner;
Broken deflated football from Lincoln/Omaha Nebraska;
What is thing call "the CORN HUSKERS"
By chance the populace can remember
Bob Gibson, Robert Boozer who...
Maybe Gabriel Union who...
And just where is this place
What is this space that home to about 400 million
From the hood I understood, from Tech High I held my pride;
In the ghetto was that fellow teachers said He ain't gonna amount to nothing
1970's Black power you perm and prime you shun;
In the ghetto inner city polish up your stone;
Speaking Swahili you talkN trash and jive;
Politically correct master target you shine of uncertainty;
While yet you continually unpromising me;
Heller Shelter relish tones, still haten Deacon Jones?;
Cut my landline telephone on Facebook unfriend me;
Imprison me with closed eyes and mediocrity
Where do you say I belong, not here son...
git on, get gone;
give me plenty of accreditation;
Concrete placement prevarication;
Who is my judge, where is my jury;
Placement on "HOLD" it's my mister-minor, huh!!
What is this a joke,
Your life's been revoked, 
Even Lucifer wants you gone
Too much heat for him, ha ha!!
Chicago's the best...
Nebraska (what) is next...
So stop playing over and over again
Curtis Mayfield and pull on the WINANS
yet I still feel even in trouble times then the best decade was the 1970's

A BROTHERLY LOVE VERSE TO MY BROTHER Freddie Robinson Jr. a brotherly dedication 

8/16/19
Written by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©


The World's Biggest Clown

The circus was coming to town
And of course I had to go see
For I'd heard the world's biggest clown
Was a headliner to be.

So off to the fairgrounds I went
And with the crowds high in the stands,
It was some afternoon I spent
With the wild animals and the bands.

But the world's biggest clown to see,
In his funny suit, long tie and mop hair;
He's why most of us paid the fee
For this act supposedly beyond compare.

Until saying anything he wanted
And flip flopping every which way,
In his clown suit how he flaunted
The absurdities of life today.

And maybe our eyes deceiving
But this clown I thought why the fuss;
I mean his act to be believing,
Surely, the joke must be on us.

Premium Member The I-G-A-B

At the 150th International Golfers’ Annual Ball,
Headliner was a duffer named Donald Trump
An exceptionally boring time was had by all
As Trump insisted on reviewing his Par 3 slump.

Seems they had very little in common, in fact,
While Trump’s ball lay languishing in the rough
No one had anything good to offer, not even tact
Only Donald, it appears, had it so darned tough.

Turns out the 150th was the last annual ball
No one cared a repeat of the whining and such,
Having suffered through hours of the folderol
Especially when dinner turned out to be dutch!

Seems no one had the money they pretended
And half of the appeal was getting a free meal,
Not to mention no true golf “greats” attended
Seems the Arab league had seized their appeal. 

Written November 26, 2022

Epitaph

Yes, I hear him
His soul sings still
His tablet, with words is filled
Living, yet on
His melodies of life 
Betray him not 
Did his pen and his pad
Renaissance man of his millennium
A savior to the verse
A miracle to the chorus
Lord of the lyrics
God’s New Headliner
(1987-        )

Even Better Yet Horn Haiku

Even Better Yet Horn Haiku 

Was amicable
Also irresistible
Of beauty was full.

Nothing is finer
Horn poems are great headliner
And jeans designer,

Ho Ho James Horn
© James Horn  Create an image from this poem.

Drab Shades of Nonexistance

I hide.....
From myself and away from others.
I wear dark glasses and caps
And paint my body in drab shades of nonexistence
Then dance, alone in the darkness
To music I have imagined.
It's better this way.
I don't have to misread faces
Or think I am being judged (although, 
Perhaps being misjudged is a better term).
I can float on clouds of thought, Pretending
That all is fine, All is fine
All is fine.
I have my coffee, my cigarettes, my pills.....
(Are you judging me now because I smoke?)
This is an introduction, by the way,
To my imaginary nightclub act
Where I sing, tell a few stories, a few jokes,
Smoke (They make concessions for me
So that I may smoke inside because I am a headliner!)
I think that the audience loves me.
They laugh, cry when I sing, "Send In The Clowns"
The applause is wonderful and
Feels like rain falling from the sky
To envelope me, soak me, cleanse me.
And then, my set is over and there is
No one in the room but me. Alone.  Afraid.  Scared.
I hide,
From myself and away from others.
© Max Parker  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Obsessed

They called me obsessed 
for everything I did;
The endless hours driving   
 just to listen to you sing; 
In a world that leaves you numb,
you always made me feel something;

Now on the main stage; 
The headliner,
high above where you used to play;
Still wearing the same smile
in front of twenty thousand 
that you did when it was twenty;

Connection through obsession
A festival known around the world 
will soon  get to experience your voice;
The one it took me an instant to fade into;
Everything I’ve done? I’d do it all again;

Now when you hit that stage
they’ll understand 
your melody impossible to forget,
 and never again will I be called obsessed.

Premium Member Alas Poor Pumpkin

Fat sits the pumpkin’s gruesome gnarly grin
snarling at the darkness… wondering just when….
when will come the demons…fat shrunken little men
fairy, pixie, witch…. flying super heroine.

Warily he eyes them – peripheral this fear
without ears he cannot see them coming from the rear
a candle burns within his mouth a licking tongue of flame
adds a glow to flickering eyes and slowly fries his brain.

As footsteps fail… the din subsides
the lights go out…. the shadows hide
and he, headliner of the bash
sits atop tomorrow's trash.


©10/28/2019

submitted to Itch, witch, glitch or twitch Poetry Contest

Premium Member Seven Babies From Heaven

Write Seven Beautiful Lines With A Twist Poetry Contest
Constance La France

With seven new rows added to their garden the grass is greener
By Author

At the hospital the media is following the birth of septuplets
The headliner is a mother, who brought seven JEWELS to life
Six girls and boy join their mother and father couplets
As the husband's SHADOW came to light he hugged his wife
The media's attention opened the GATE to curiosity hounds
Months later the prying knocks on their door shook their strife
The family would MUTTER each knock, wishing to stay in bounds

Premium Member Roses From All Nations Scintillate In Complete Harmony

Roses From All Nations Scintillate In Complete Harmony
Roses from all nations scintillate in complete harmony,
Liberally rejoicing its natural mood, praiseworthy,
At times, beauty alone is an element that will outshine,
Given its prominent stature, the odds will be well-define,
Gracefulness is quite an admirable equanimity.

Through time, the rose is a regular fixture of unity,
Though it has been tested by all fronts, passive immunity,
It has withstood the annals of time to be on the front line,
Roses from all nations,

There are clubs and organizations in the community,
Their presence well spread, offers people an opportunity,
Only some countries have other flowers that are a gold mine,
Traversing over and challenging drawing a battle line,
Overall, a rose would be a headliner, approvingly,
Roses from all nations.

2020 March 06

Rhyme Scheme;
aabba aabR aabbaR
Howmanysyllables;
13 lines x 15 syllables per + 2 lines x 6 syllables per = 207 syllables total
© Hilo Poet  Create an image from this poem.

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