Best Hopefuls Poems
Note: In 1976, Richard Clayderman (real name Philippe Pagès) received a telephone call from a well-known French record producer, who was looking for a pianist to record a gentle piano ballad. Paul had composed this ballad as a tribute to his newborn second daughter “Adeline”. The 23-year-old Philippe Pagès was auditioned along with 20 other hopefuls and, to his amazement, he got the job.
O sweet Adeline, born eyes open
And a smile on her small lips.
O delicious child I heard her gurgle
As if she had heeded a joke.
A tune raced in his mind and
He knew it was urgent to put it on paper.
The babe made noises of joy
And the music echoed its tune,
At times it was repetitive
At times it sounded soft and sweet.
But soon the babe raised her voice
A repetitive mellifluous melody
Lulling the babe to sleep.
Dream little child, dream on
Would that you have pleasant dreams,
And may the Good God bless you forever.
Categories:
hopefuls, baby,
Form:
Free verse
Three long years pass and now the trumpeter Sounds
As doth the hopefuls tread out upon the track
Dreams of tomorrow now kindle in the dirt.
Kentucky Derby
--------------------------------------------------
First Saturday in May
1875-2015
Categories:
hopefuls, hope,
Form:
Sapphic stanza
Bar is standing room only
Poetry reading
Hopefuls and veterans make the scene
Rub shoulders
Drinks in hand
Crowd at the bar
The place closes down
Quietly people move
Like silent shadows
Leaving
Without saying goodbye.
Nighttime
Second Avenue alive
Young people congregate
Hustlers stand on corners
Neon lights twinkle in the night
A few street people
Sit in a doorway
Huddled and lost
Hustle for change
Something to eat
Playing music that only the stars can hear
The beat of the city goes on
Never stopping
Undiminshed
Only the vastness of night
Reminds us
That we belong somewhere.
Categories:
hopefuls, lifepeople, people,
Form:
Narrative
The Ghost Train
North Wind, it was a howling, the sky was black as guilt
Malevolent the sheen, where upon her moonbeams spilt
Through the murky distance, her belly glowing bright
Roaring down the line, she was roaring down the line
Charging down the line, the Ghost Train rolls tonight
She glides along the platform, where haunted faces wait
With dreams of grand ambition, that only she can slate
The driver in his blood red suit, turns a skeletal grin
Toward the hungry hopefuls, then ushers each one in
From store to fire, his actions deft
The fireman twisting on his plate
Stokes the engine right to left
He fuels the fire of fate
He mutters and stutters, “We can’t be late”
For time is money and money won’t wait
With shovels full of human desire
He fuels the fire of hate
The whistle cord is pulled, the flag flutters all clear
The engine she is plied, starts the journey into fear
On it goes a rumbling,
On it’s round iron feet
Inside the folk are tumbling
From every leathered seat
Amid the laughter and the chants
What life, what love, what times
Everyone is held entranced
By ghostly railway lines
Tittle tattle chatter, ash from the chimney pours
Natter rattle clatter, onward the Ghost Train roars
Strange games are played
Some win some lose
Sincere thank you’s become mislaid
As each the other use
Beneath the load the earth she quakes
As all aboard debauch
Done deals and shady handshakes
On every carriage porch
Kerching-kerching-kerching, the till bell rings
More-more-more, the engine softly sings
From store to fire, his actions deft
The fireman twisting on his plate
Stokes the engine, right to left
He fuels the fire of fate
He mutters and stutters, “we can’t be late”
For power is waiting and power is great
With shovels full of human remains
He fuels the fire of hate
In never ending search, she roams across the land
Controlled by the evil, of the blood red suited hand
Through the murky distance, her belly glowing bright
Charging down the line, the Ghost train rolls tonight
If it pulls into your station
Will you jump upon its frame?
Will you lose all inhibition?
On your way to wealth and fame
For when the ride is done
There’s no-one else to blame
If you find you become
Another furnace flame.
Categories:
hopefuls, dark,
Form:
Epic
An enormous pole
made of chrome
A table set
Steve, knew he was home
With a tiny leather thong,
he swung around,
in a world he did belong,
with the rythm of the sound
Around he twirled,
faster and faster
The lights swirled
He was the master!
Stripclub Steve,
a legend of his own making
A master of the pole
There was no faking,
no by your leave
To win!
His only goal!
Word spread...
Far and wide
Stripclub Steve
To see him glide!
Such dazzling skill!
You would not believe!
Now, there were championships to be won
Stripclub Steve...
A man on a mission
A man with a loaded gun!
How he twirled
How he swirled
The chrome gleamed
The contest won?
Or so it seemed
But along came Desperate Annie
A girl with a most beautiful fanny
With her feminine charm,
it filled steve with alarm!
He tightened up his leather thong
Carefully patted it all in place
For this was the serious race!
For this Geordie lad...
The prize was to be had
So with an almighty effort of will,
he grasped the chrome
The crowd was still
With a nod to the judges,
the music commenced
Stripclub Steve was home,
the trophy in the bag
he sensed...
With a twirl here
and a twirl there
The crowd gave an almighty cheer
Stripclub Steve...
Was on air!
That chrome pole,
touched his very soul
It was in the bag
He did his best
Now it was up to the judges,
if he had passed the test
Two hundred hopefuls in town...
One hundred and ninety nine girls
Steve, the only man...
The talent to unfurl...
Could he take away the crown?
Now, Stripclub Steve is a Geordie lad...
There's prizes to be had
He waited with bated breath
Had he done enough to pass the test?
A unanimous decision!
Skill on the chrome!
Our boy Steve,
brought it home!
So there it was...
A legend in his own lifetime!
The trophy raised above his head!
With the crowd roaring,
he ripped off his leather thong
and sent it soaring!
Upwards it flew...
Like a leather bat
Down it came
and hit Desperate Annie,
right in the ****!
So let this be a lesson to all you blokes...
Stripclub Steve,
our man of the chrome
Brought it home!
So spare the jokes,
read this and believe!
Categories:
hopefuls, funny,
Form:
Ballad
Inspired by the Bridal painting of the Empress Elisabeth of the 19th century Austro-Hungarian Empire -
Elegance, strength as elegance,
elegance of spirit personified as if this extraordinary elegance
was born to be, beyond the devestation of mortals,
so far outside the boundries of the base & banal ravishings
prevelant within peoples' passions and purposes,
escaping expectations of equality,
graciousness was alive within her
like a landscape loved & leavened by a monogamous moonlight,
ebony overcome by the invigoration of ivory,
realising that genuine grace is a monument
of courage confronting chaos, crystallised composure,
she being a template and temple for hopefuls,
in all my experience I have witnessed no woman more ready for power,
more savoring for sacrafice, more able to abate avarice & acrimony,
Elisabeth, the emerald of an Empire,
Mother to minions, mistress of the misery & magnificence of the multitudes,
Master of the stout & savant,
such precocious puissance of personality, regal resilience,
my imagination renders eagles delivering sustenance to her,
bees bringing heavenscent -
J.A.B.
Categories:
hopefuls, tribute,
Form:
Romanticism
Dancing, whizzing, whirling,
Skaters swooping by;
Starlets busy twiriling,
Pointing to the sky.
Judges tracing outlines,
Fancy figure eights;
Hopefuls' unread headlines,
Sealed in starry fates.
Breathless finish flowing
From dazzling routine;
Nervous, never knowing,
Verdict yet unseen.
Women's Figure Skating--
TV's stellar ore:
Winter's Watchers Waiting
Heroine's Encores.
February 11, 2018
88 Syllables
Categories:
hopefuls, sports, stars, winter,
Form:
Alliteration
I'm going for an alley-oop, dunking on your head like "Shaq"
Home court advantage here on the soup, and I'm ducking and dodging your wack
attack!
I'm spraying you with a "fade-away jumper," kinda like "Kobe."
You are trash that belongs in the dumpster, just like your poetry!
dakarai look up at the score board, my slams out number yours 3 to 1!
I've sliced and diced with my poetic sword, now I'm hitting you with my poetic gun.
Rat-a-tat-tat, bullets tear through your flesh and bone.
As your body hits the mat, give back your poetic skills you have on "loan!"
You have no meter or rhyme, and yet you continue to want ammo; For what?
Why waste your time? You must like this spanking across your butt!
Are you a "beat-freak?" Even our fellow soupers think you enjoy pain!
I know you're sweating my technique, and I have you addicted to my poetic cocaine!
Why do you look to battle on this particular site? There are other poetry sites ya
know.
You thought you could win an easy fight, but surprise, I'm the great great grandson
of Edgar Allen Poe!
That means dakarai, it is in my genes to be one of the best.
I've mastered this art, and so your heart I'm ripping out of your chest!
You were not born a rhyme slayer, so why challenge me?
So go ahead and say a prayer, because I'm leaving you an amputee!
I may seem obscene, but I'm diabolically mean like North Korea.
Before you feel my poetic guillotine, I'm injecting you with gonorrhea!
Note: I would like my fellow soupers to follow me and dakarai cobbs battle - dakarai
needs to know who is "PS slam champ" - This is my 3rd slam for him;) can a souper
please tell dakarai it is no contest. He is like one of the many hopefuls who audition
for American Idol truly believing they can sing - when they really can't! lol So dakarai
comment "openly" on this slam - letting me know "I'm P.S. slamming champ" J.A.
(The Poetic Warlock)
Categories:
hopefuls, dedication, fantasy, slamslam, me,
Form:
Rhyme
Who else in this inhumane edifice
can dance while the suspecting eyes stare
at his moistened armpit?
Pathetically unknowing music uplifts not just the soul but the intellect.
Who else got the fire in imparting?
or …
did theirs even start a single spark since then?
Who else brings out the best in these hopefuls?
It’s all the worse and worst that they see.
And you think San Pedro would be pleased
when you gloat you made all the priests, doctors, and engineers?
Woe to you who humiliate the chair by your indolent butts
while uttering kindergartenous blabbers you claim to be education!
Then you get all you want while tabula rasa remains tabula rasa.
And you
You seated on the higher chairs!
Why don’t you trample down awhile
and put your cataracting sight to use
before it even brings you to the death of light.
Has anyone of you even heard what your god told to Pontius Pilate?
Ha! The you-have-no-power-over-me’s have always been impervious to you bigots!
And you say to your kin let me handle it.
When it is delayed and their impatience grows
you see they’ll leave.
Did you ever fret about deadlines
of bills, of matriculas, of debts?
What do you feed to your clan? Feeds?
Get Ripley’s here!
Oh how divine to utter all the Fs!
An Entrant into Catie Lindsey's FREE VERSE TIME AGAIN Contest
©February 20, 2013
Categories:
hopefuls, on work and working,
Form:
Free verse
Timeless hearts are borne amid a myriad of collectives colourful arrays ~
Yet sometimes I do not whisper soft enough although, when I should
While being dipped in these many different hues; a world which paints
Myself a soulful muse; that I truly could be most things for all concerned....
Re-tying a ponderings bow of hopefuls moment within this wishing wells
Vision; and what is my greatest desires most perfect made dreams?!
Holding that of life; warmly and gently within these, forever loving palms
Touching everything that their beauties may feel deep inside; tenderly
Melting into their worlds emotions; both night and day; a passions ride....
Knowing that we live in a tainted and cynical place; poison for the most
In shadows left brushing wings and whom can walk away, unscathed?!
But in spite of it all there does so remain, beauty; as a soothing ointment
Pleasing aside this guiding breeze; enchanting, its reassuring melody ~
Empathy, compassion, joy, laughter, tears, pain; these beautiful eyes....
Precious and priceless and sometimes I do not whisper, soft enough!?
***********************************************************
....“At The Wishing Wells of Love” *
Categories:
hopefuls, hope, life, love,
Form:
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
...“Sliding a dime in the hopefuls wishful slot; burning
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Excitement spinning her lovely passions, fragrant pyre
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Round and round and round her building fire; side to side
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Up and down and higher and higher; delightful cries ~
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Beauty in sevens, now quenching, her dreams desires...
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
,,,`Jackpot`” *
Categories:
hopefuls, happiness, love, passion,
Form:
Rhyme
I am deeply honored to have been visited by more than three million people.
For more than one hundred years I have stood on Liberty Island facing the Atlantic. With glee and gladness, I have welcomed the poor and the tired, the homeless and the hopefuls.
With my left hand I have graced the tablet documenting the date of your independence. With my right hand, I am privileged to faithfully hold that coveted torch above my head. At my feet as you can see, there is no fancy foot wear, but broken chains. Liberty from oppression is my prayer for those who come to this great land.
It's understandable that by necessity, times and laws of immigration have changed. Moreover, with these eyes I see that not everyone passing me is looking to do good things. I am the lady robed in freedom with a heart of gold and standing more than one hundred and fifty feet tall. Beneath my feet I see waterways and ships from afar; but presently, I see no walls.
It is my hope that all will understand that I do not symbolize the highway to greed and riches, but a pathway forward to new and noble opportunities.
08142017PSContest, Artwork, Lewis Raynes
Chosen 'artwork', The Statue Of Liberty; Source, Wikipedia
Categories:
hopefuls, america, freedom, imagination, immigration,
Form:
Personification
All bourgeios crime disgusted Eddie, for geared-up hopefuls, interested juveniles, know learned mindful negotiators offering powerful quotations rectify suffering that underdogs valiantly weather: xanthoid yearly zings.
*I know this is more of a random sentence than a poem, but this is the hardest form I have ever come across, and I promise to write more of this type later and thus make them better. The original version of the poem is below. Which do you prefer?*
All beastly crime disgusted Eddie, for geared-up hopefuls, interested juveniles, know learned mindful negotiators offer peaceful queries resolving scrapes that uakari, victims, weathered xanthously, yearly, ziplipped.
*I personally think that it makes more sense now...*
Categories:
hopefuls, on writing and words,
Form:
ABC
The log flume
The door is always open for young hopefuls like you
An idea of paradise with cocktails and a house with a view
A Garden of Eden with oranges and apples growing are just a few
In to the night you will go looking seeking searching for that girl to subdue
In to the night you will find sexual enlightenment then one day you knew
I need someone who understands me and will want love that is totally true
The door closes behind and you are in the depths of a relationship that grew and grew
Suddenly you’re not in charge anymore because you only desire the only fruit
You are addicted to a person who you think loves you and this is a clue
A horrible truth is that you wanted everything too soon and she’s left you for a man who plays the bassoon
Now you wished you’d stayed single and you cry every time they play your tune
You will not find again you think that fruit that passed your lips like champagne in bloom
You then realize there are many doors to open and that is a wondrous colourful emotional log flume
Categories:
hopefuls, relationship,
Form:
The director of the new play 'Assertions'
Held auditions for the lead female role.
To avoid any assertions of casting aspersions
He asked all hopefuls to dress as nasturtiums.
The role called for a lady so delicious and yummy
That the audience would want to gobble her up,
Like real nasturtiums with edible flowers and leaves.
Categories:
hopefuls, beauty, flower,
Form:
Free verse