Best Idle Talk Poems
Aphrodite, In Sweet Dreams Of Bliss I Cry Out To You,
Sonnet Doubles
Aphrodite, princess of my romantic dreams
burning flames to my heart's inner desires
your beauty gifted, a poetic soul redeems
goddess of love, true love that never tires.
Underneath moon's golden rays and heavenly nights
we meet, in a dreamland made just for two
your vision bringing forth love's most sensual light
passionate touch, Cupid's arrows shot true.
Aphrodite, no heart can your deep love deny
or satisfaction from your every kiss
you are soft twinkle of stars in radiant sky
epitome of love, life, joyous bliss.
Within this heaving breast, is your heart to now hold.
Your passionate embrace, I am forever sold.
Robert J. Lindley, 7-11-2020
Sonnet, ( Forever Lost In The Sweet Depths Of A True Love )
Note:
Aphrodite:
https://www.britannica.com/topic/Aphrodite-Greek-mythology
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Remember All That Glitters Is Not Gold
Within a silken tapestry of dreams
are golden orbs of glittering treasures
life is too often not what it may seem
if we in haste seek only our pleasures.
Far better to view Nature, its beauty
as if a mere child just learning to walk
knowing life is a gift not a duty
we oft may learn more without idle talk.
Cease snatching up offerings this world casts
those tempting traps that look to be so free
Ulysses was pleading, bound to ship's mast
to jump overboard, drown in raging seas.
Remember all that glitters is not gold.
Bountiful are worldly lies we are told.
Robert J. Lindley, 7-11-2020
Sonnet, ( If it looks to good to be true, almost always it isn't)
January twenty-fifth
silver locks idle talk with
age comes wisdom an old myth
a dance holding firmly fixed walker
1/18/2020
I have always felt myself extremely blessed to have found myself a wife
who believes very little is needed to make a happy life.
Before you think she doesn’t mean it, that it’s just idle talk
she has it perched upon our kitchen counter…painted on a rock.
After 25 (now 35) years of marriage…a marriage not at all routine
let me take a minute to show you what she means.
It’s listening when the other person talks and hearing what they say.
It’s a card to say I love you at the end of a bad day.
It’s a little gift that’s given when there’s no reason for a gift.
just to say the words I love you or to give her day a lift.
It’s a drive through the countryside with a picnic in the back.
It’s making pancakes for dinner and sharing one large stack.
It’s reaching something on the top shelf when Deborah is unable
It’s the family gathered for a short time around the kitchen table.
It’s sharing laughter, stories and joy with our children and grandchildren too
and smiling in contentment when the evening’s joy is through.
It’s enjoying our family together and creating new memories…new heirlooms
It’s holding hands, stealing a kiss or a smile across a room.
It’s the sharing of our deepest fears, our long range hopes and wishes
It’s one person doing the cooking while the other does the dishes
It’s a surprise call in the middle of the day just to hear her voice
It’s being together when you’re both sorrowful or when you both rejoice
It’s watching a romantic movie with a little popcorn on the side
It’s remembering all the reasons you chose her as your bride.
It’s that feeling of falling in love for the first time…then
falling in love with that same person…over and over again
Yes very little is needed to make a happy life is not just idle talk
It’s the little things that make life…and love….as solid as a rock.
Who knows life and it's game
Where we are and from where we came
Seems we never learned life’s lessons
But we want repentance from our transgressions
Change comes and the wind blows
But from now on you'll never know
Things we did in the past never have any regrets
In due time with apologies I hope it will make you forget
Anger will never reach a correct decision.
It always attracts strong opposition.
Strive to achieve in a fashion,
That will just prove your passion.
Hoping for a change for the better or worse,
As long as it's not too adverse.
Striving to make my future bright;
I challenge myself to go to different heights.
Struggling all my life for a penny or two.
Hope my dreams, though few, comes true.
In pursuit of new explanations,
To miracles and revelations.
No answer, only views and idle talk,
In life we have to be careful how we walk.
Leviticus 26:3-5 Think about God's plan for your life and walk on His set path. .. Life
Destiny. Life is bland, when we don't understand, God's command.
Lap of fancy fills with flowers,
Just to think of her tonight,
This is not an idle talk,
I'm in good humor tonight.
I would not reveal my secrets,
To enchanting eyes of hers,
But she took away my power,
I could not resist tonight.
Beauty's garden I'm traversing,
Half-inclined to soar up high,
Heaven don't throw at the wings
Of my joy your rocks tonight.
I have no pre-occupation
But her deep mysterious eyes,
I am stealing black collyrium
From the eyes of deer tonight.
The heart's mirror takes its luster
From her splendor, may be somehow
Supplicant, it rubbed its face
On the feet of Love tonight.
My good thoughts are a reflection
From the scripture of her face,
In the vault of chance and fate,
I see evil shunned tonight.
Keeping far from grape's daughter,
And with good luck being in bed,
The first option I forbid me,
Second one my right tonight.
Reason, you think only of one thing,
The impossible, so leave me,
Don't you talk to me this once,
Of forbidden love tonight!
Qasem Ghazanfar,
Translated from the Persian by the author
Words fail
Meaning blurry;
Nothing rhymes
~~~~~~~~~
Upstairs apartment
Renovation works;
Pneumatic floor blast
~~~~~~~~~
Idle talk punctuates
Not much meaning;
Bizarre thoughts
~~~~~~~~~
Sonic headache
Disturbing pounding;
Head time-bomb ticking
~~~~~~~~~
Constipated movie
Suspicious assumptions;
Character flaws
~~~~~~~~~
Dragonfly pond
Lotus flowers bloom;
Mud bed ascend
~~~~~~~~~
Brief excursion
Exploration;
Abrupt exfoliation
~~~~~~~~~
Beauty delights
Ample assets;
Tipsy tryst
~~~~~~~~~
Orange butterflies
Dazzling flights;
Breezy patterns
~~~~~~~~~
Wavy handwriting
Cursive scripts swirl;
Verse outburst
~~~~~~~~~
Sleepy somnolence
Mid afternoon fare;
Lazy disposition
~~~~~~~~~
Word tiles
Pattern styles;
Thought textures
~~~~~~~~~
Black bird trio
Choral message;
Lightning crackle
~~~~~~~~~
Sound tact
Sure act;
Solid fact
~~~~~~~~~
Busy bee
Blooming finds;
Flower power
~~~~~~~~~
Day ascends
Midday sun strokes;
Positive feedback
~~~~~~~~~
Monday stirrings
Weekday routines call;
Noisy hurrying
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
15 June 2015
Singapore
Old Friends
Come, sit with me and share some idle talk,
Of cabbages and kings, of life and death.
Or else, perhaps, opining as we walk,
We could discuss some current shibboleth.
We’ll wile away the day just as we please,
While deconstructing pop philosophy.
No topic is taboo, we’ll shoot the breeze
With politics mixed with theology.
Together we will save the planet Earth,
Preventing climate change from getting worse.
And when we’re done with that, for what it’s worth,
We’ll solve the riddles of the universe.
We’ll talk the talk and talk the walk and then
Tomorrow we will do it all again!
People make assumptions,
And that's not always good.
Instead of thinking just the best,
As one another should.
They'll often add to what you've said,
The thoughts in their own minds,
Changing what you meant to say,
To something less than kind;
Giving what you meant in jest,
An unfamiliar ring,
And something really innocent,
Becomes another thing.
It's easy to assume a thing,
And then go spread the story,
But when you do you carry tales,
And cause much undue worry.
Concocting things from what you've heard,
Is such a petty pastime.
It serves us well to check our thoughts,
And bring them all back in line.
Remember, don't believe the things,
That sometimes you will hear,
For truth or lie, it matters not,
The price you'll pay is dear;
For those who spread about such news,
Have naught to do but lobby.
Perhaps we should suggest to them,
That they pursue a hobby.
Oh, my faces and image of mine,
They aren’t having some likeness of yours
I’m not prince I’m not master of mine
with the oil or gold, it’s not loss.
I won’t freeze on the pictures of glance
in editions of fashion and vogue
Royal parties won’t take off the suns
from my cheeks after their idle talk.
I’m the same as I was in the past
And the crows fly above my poor head
I don’t need their falsehood, I’m guest
in this show, save your crown for next lad.
Oh Feathered,
Feather
In my dream's
You spoke to me of change
And a guardian angel
Yet nothing since has changed
I am still the same
No lion's I have tamed,
Nor horses spirit's I have broke
I am I fear what i appear
A wheel without a spoke
One solitary feather set adrift in stormy weather
And all for this idle talk of guardian angels
please excuse me if I do not cackle like a giraffe
As I fear you have lead me up the garden path
to a house overgrown with weeds
So dank and bleak the floorboards creak
beneath the weight of passing ghosts and shadows
Of the remnant of the leftovers
DANCE OF THE SOCIAL VAMPIRES
We come out from the time of in between
the spark of life and where life's not so clean,
we make our habitat a place for you
to lay in love, and know love's coming to
a plague of life, like you have never seen.
All in our virtual reality,
that's never here, but goes on constantly,
all minds do meet and join in cyberspace
and make us all as one, the hyper-race,
who love the dark and how it sets us free;
and if our love won't come to self destruct
from bytes upon our necks, where blood is sucked
our nourishment, where death has made her claim
and put us here, each one, to look the same,
in just a flash of time, our lives are shucked.
Plain faced, and lacking any shame,
we come and go, refusing rules of game,
and excevate our bowel, where children walk
and rob the poor, for just some idle talk,
refusing to admit we are the only blame.
© ron wilson aka ron arbuthnot
aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
GIRL OF PARIS AT CHAMP DE MARS
Beneath the girds of steel, rising to the sky;
where tourists go to watch the world go by;
the children come to play, and lovers walk
through myriads of life and idle talk,
this is the Champ de Mars where Paris goes
to show that side of life that only Paris shows,
with donkey rides and jugglers all for fun
where you'll forget a love, or meet someone
A troubadour will sing her memory
so you'll forget tomorrow has to be,
and people watching is the thing in style,
each painted face, each heartbreak, every smile.
Where madamoiselle forgets what she must wear
throws caution to the wind, lets down her hair
an orange blouse, and skin tight yellow hose,
she shows the world someone it never knows.
She's looking for that locking of her eyes
and touching of her heart, as time it flies,
and someone she has known, but never met,
the first kiss of her life she'll not forget.
And Paris knows, yes Paris knows what's real
the love she comes to know and love and feel
it never will leave her, as time goes by
and she will think on it, many times, and cry.
© RON Wilson Arbuthnot
aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet
We may have been seeing reflections that belonged to yesterday
but something magnetic was causing our footsteps to stray.
Perhaps they were awakened musings, buried deep in memory,
that set us on a romantic journey down this mountain path of rediscovery.
Afraid to speak of it, we silently chose which garden lane to walk,
nervously masked our secret feelings with mundane idle talk.
When he curled his fingers around mine, my heart began to race.
I was uncertain if this journey would end in a sweet embrace.
We stepped on to an ornamental passage in a garden maze
and witnessed moonlight's glow through a mystical golden haze.
It was awash in nectar blossoms of nature's fragrant flowers
and in that scented arbor, we shared passion's kisses for hours.
Within each other's arms, we took a vow and pledged our love,
witnessed by red roses and myriads of shining stars above.
We caressed each other with touches that had long been denied
then he wiped away my tears of joy, tears I hadn't known I'd cried.
Seedlings grow from the ground when nurtured by the sun,
like love bloomed in the garden, when at last we became one.
Just as tender grapes slowly ripen to become rare vintage wine,
we surrendered to each other, two hearts forever to intertwine.
LONG LONG AGO. I JOURNIED TO THE VILLA OF TAFT. TO MY SURPRISED, I BEHELD
THIS PERPETUATING SIGHT. SHE HAD LONG SILKY DEEP BROWN LOCKS, THAT SURELY,
REVEALED HER NOBILITY.
SHE WAS THIS RADIANT AND BEAUTIFUL IVORY DOVE THAT COMMANDED THE ATTENTION
OF PEASANT SUCH AS MYSELF. SURELY I WAS UNWORTHY TO DAWN HER SPACE, SO
I DARE NOT UNBRIDLE MY TONGUE, THAT I MIGHT PRAISE HER WONDEROUS BEAUTY.
YET I WAS NOT ONLY MOVED, BUT IWAS INTRIGUED WITH HER CHARM AND SMILE THAT
COULD EASILY GIVE THE BRIGHTEST OF LIGHT TO A DARKEN NIGHT. SUDDENLY, SHE
GAZED UPON MY COMMON PRESENCE AND SPOKE GENTLE GREETING, UNTO ME.
WHAT GAME ORJEST WOULD SHE PLACE WITH THE COMMONEST OF ME, TO MYSELF I
THOUGHT? SURELY THERE WERE MORE MEN OF VALOR THERE SHE COULD EASILY FAVOR. I
PERCEIVE THAT WISDOM BECKON ME TO REPLY. SO WITH REALNESS AND INTENT I
APPEASE HER WITH A SINCERE THOUGHT. WHY WOULD PEOPLE WASTE TIME WITH
SHALLOW AND IDLE TALK THAT ONLY LEAD TO WASTED TIME. SHE SMILE AND I QUAKED
WITHIN. THENSHE SAID. IF I AM INTERESTED THEN I WILL MAKE IT HAPPEN.
WHY MUST SHE TOY WITH ME,I THOUGHT! WITH THE COURAGE OF THE LION THAT I WAS. I
ASK BOLDLY FOR HER TIME FOR A ONE ON ONE WITH ME. SHE SMILE GRACIOUSLY AS I
WAS A PRIVILEGE AND CONSCENT. I MARVELLED AS HER PRETTY FEET RESTED SO
DIVINELY IN HER SANDLES. HER TWIN PEARL EYES SPARKLE AND I WAS HELD CAPTIVE.
WHO WAS THIS FAIR MAIDEN THAT FOUND ME SO WORTHY OF HER TIME. ALL I COULD
THINK OF, WAS THAT, TRULY SHE WAS ''LADY MARICARMEN'' THAT GAVE ME SUCH AN
UNEXPECTED JOY. SO SHALL IT BE.
I hasten to place much faith in idle talk
Reality tells me i am never getting out of here
Rather I am destined to die here
Beside these other condemned band of brother's
This sorry War friends has forced upon me to rely
Word has filtered through the end is nigh
But though false dawns may lift the spirits
Of the uninitiated
A seasoned second tour trench institutionalized vetran
I remember this more than my walls and streets of home
And what if the rumors are to be proved true
I Fear the Man I shall Return
Is no longer the carefree Boy who Left
Another lifetime ago
How am I to live out my Day's
Knowing now what I have seen and done
For King and Country
My Sunny Valentine has been replaced by my Riffle
And the reflection in my polished bayonet
Bounces off my tin helmet
I inherited from some poor soldier never going home
Make what sense of the following sentence
You must
I will be sad to leave this place of untold misery
Come that Day
Saying Goodbye will be paved with raw despair
For so many other reasons than those we lost
Along the way
You asked a boy to buy into this War
And now I stand before you a Soldier Sir
It isn't fair Sir
Please don't send me back Sir
This is all I know now
I love the way the shell's fall darkening the Sky
Exploding into shrapnel furness plumes of Death
The Mud
The smell of human faces
The bloodied broken bones
Blown into a thousand piece's
I am so accustomed now
I think Id miss shell shock
Once more over the top please Sir
The War isn't won or over yet
And Sir
I am not ready to go home just yet