Best Ingenious Poems
The meticulous melody of my musings is she.
Quietly my quill inscribes intrinsic ink upon the paths she walks.
Profoundly postulated in poems I've portrayed her in -
she's inspired ingenious imagery of beaucoup beauty.
I ponder without her what my life would be like?
With determiners of this, that, these and those, she is the
one who guides like an orchestra of street lights at night.
In times of silence I wonder what she is thinking of
when gazing at blue horizons that appear cloudless,
as her exotic eyes always crave for calming climes.
There is no measure in the pleasure of her treasure and
her artistry on a blank canvas turns stanzas radiantly starry,
so I croon a tune hoping to be the moon under her serene skies.
Yet not all lullabies of lovers can ease a melancholic mind and
sometimes it's difficult to write lyrics making sense of it all.
Not all verses compliment strings with an instrumental that's
an emotionally unbalanced mix of tones not seen as the best
remedy in episodes of rage - so I wonder what becomes of
tranquillity when her tempest temper turns her thoughts dark.
I regret those forgotten promises lost in broken symphonies and
until sanity soothes with words of softness, I'll hold onto all that is bright.
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Lord Byron – She Walks in Beauty
For once in my life,
I want to be a poem,
Written with many metaphors,
By a poet with a heart that flows
Flowers of romanticism like the rivers
That roar with devotion deeper than the oceans.
I may never last forever,
Immortalise me in your poem,
I want to smile forever,
I have had oceans of tears
Splashing my heart
And tearing me apart.
Little less anaphora,
Much more allusion,
Refer not a rhyme or a rhythm,
Let me be free, wild and witty,
Just like the sunflowers smiling
In sunbeams in those dreamy paintings,
Let my hair be reckless like waves,
My eyes serene like grey graves,
My lips rosy like bleeding caves,
My fragrance drowsy and dreamy like the dead poets.
Can you write me like those burned up passionate pages in the night where the moon is just hanging low longing to be brought down in the grave glow of the cherry red candlelight.
Please, please,
Let me be a poem,
Say yes, say that you will write me,
Your glorious glass pen,
Ingenious emerald ink
Crunching on an aged, mushy parchment paper.
My typewriter won't work,
The ink on my fingers consumed me,
I choked on my coffee,
I am nothing but just shards of the coffee cup
That kissed my mouth every morning
With gardens and gloom,
Brought a sparkle on my face
That tends to bloom.
I want to be a poem.
I've dropped my pen, calamity,
I write too much profanity,
it makes people act angrily,
yet I walk around quite happily.
I'm aware I speak like I don't care,
and I reek of rudeness when I share,
but I don't get offended to be fair,
not up here on my high chair.
Naturally I've no remorse,
that means I don't care of course,
but I'm a gent I'll hold the door,
just for me not you and yours.
You read from a rebel without a cause,
whom finds it fun to wined up fools.
Though I don't hunt them down like jaws,
it's done through words I write with my paws.
With direct rhymes that are unambiguous,
also aimless and thus promiscuous,
this contradiction is a tad ridiculous,
have you worked out yet how I'm ingenious?
I told you at the beginning that I care not,
the lines since caused that to be forgot.
Are you yet to realise the plot?
Now it ends, yep, that's your lot.
Flowers Emerge
Impose your will on the pretty flowers as you may
Trans-formative wonderment of nature
Entrenched, defiled, they pop up any way in clusters
Vivacious are the colors above the solid stem
Cut cold to death, decay and pain, to follow winters grip
Excellence defined in the ability to survive
Dangerous are the forces that persist to derogate them
Yet they prevail against all odds
Death comes but they regenerate
Grass is their shield. Dirt is their pillow there
Negative winds carry with them ice
Reds and yellows grow on below the sun
Visceral, strangled roots, fragile faces, petal soft, grow cold
Ingenious species, green with envy on the leaf, rise again
A Cacophony of nature’s birds and bees disturbs the peace
Flowers come in abundance, remain, friendly on the green
Distinguished in divine fashion, exquisite, generous to the last
Elevated smiles on pollen grains contain the seed of life
Flowers emerge, aware of life
11/22/14 Poetry Contest - "Encounters With Flowers"
One character I used to like a lot
was skinny, bald, and not at all refined.
yet he was superhuman when he fought
and also had a keen detective’s mind.
He had a pipe, and this ingenious bloke
would use it as a torch or periscope.
In fact, he rarely used that pipe to smoke!
With goons and Bluto he would always cope
by using it to suck a spinach can!
His forearms bulged, for he got strong that way.
Strong to the “finich,” was this sailor man
from eating spinach when he saved the day!
To Olive Oyl and Swee’pea he stayed true -
*Pupeye, Pipeye, Peepeye, and Poopeye too!
Written 5/20.2015 for the Cartoon Character Contest of Shadow Hamilton
* The four nephews of Popeye who resembled little Mini-Me’s of Popeye.
The city of Prague
In a different world
Its centre ripped
The whole world heard
Its now separated by
Canyons so deep
The day it happened
To hear a country weep
Beautiful buildings
Fell away
Architectural delights
Toppled on sway
But the city recovered
No bridges to be seen
Ingenious in genius
Sky Gondola's reign
To cross this great city
From north to south
Over the gaping rift
Above the canyons mouth
Gondola shaped
Zeppelin for lift
Tiller propeller
Propulsion shift
Sky taxis
In ariel flow
With their lanterns lit
Like glowworms glow
This sight i view
With my pal Jules Verne
Inspires his writes
As generations will learn
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/fantasy4.php
Alan Allston ate an addictive piece of cake.
Bertie bounced his bouncy ball by the bus stop but his brother caught the bouncy ball before the bus came.
Claire, Clara, Chloe and co built a sculpture of Charlie out of snow.
David danced with Dani in a dance club in Derby.
Eliza's enormous elephant squirted water at an eagle.
Frances frantically searched, quite flushed, for Freddie's friendly frog.
General enquiries? Go Google it!
Henry hated hula hoops and Hungry Hippos.
Ingenious Ignatius invented an intelligence of sorts.
Jackie's Jaguar Jasper liked jumping giant fences.
Kind King Knowles knows what's best for his kingdom.
Larry limped lightly after he had a nasty fall.
Mary played Moana in a school production.
Nobody notices November's rain, not since winter has arrived again.
Oops! Oh no! It's happened all over again!
Pedro, Perdy and Poots played bagpipes in the middle of Boots!
Quality Street for quiet times.
Rita raised an eyebrow when she got the rhyme wrong!
Some slimy slugs saw Sid Sidewinder slithering slowly singing silly songs.
To tell you the truth, Tea's just right for me.
The unhappy unicorn kept dry under her umbrella.
Vera the violet vulture was very hungry.
The winds were whistling a wintry tune.
Xena played her xylophone while Xander was having his x-ray.
Yesterday's Yellow is today's Gold.
Zoe's zebra stared at her as she zealously expressed her views on Zoom.
There is an antique writing desk
in my little study
handed-me-down
from generations of would-be
writers in my family
And there are ancient creatures
from days gone by
living in this old desk still
evil, larcenous little creatures
envious of literary skill
This explains much
Lately, I have caught them unawares
aghast, thought I imagined them
but they are really there
surly, sinister, repugnant creatures
in my writing desk
There's a putrid little jerk,
called Pernishicus who lurks
behind the piles on my desk
glorying in the mess
a malevolent, grimy-mauve gremlin
Who preys on newly created works
stealthily spraying them
with foul feculence
as soon as I commence
my writing-
...Sometimes missing slightly
and tagging my hand
making it hard to stand
myself (much less my writing)
for days on end
Then there's a creepy
mesmerizing fiend
they call Spelbadger
a translucent thing, quite obscene
who shifts in the shadows and purrs
With dark eyes deep- constantly changing
like stones from mood-rings
set in his skull
he psychically bullies,
intimidates and muddles
until my poor brain
is worn and dull
And perhaps worst of all
is that one, Grumblesleaze
with pale, glowering eyes diseased
a gray-green, mangy looking thing
whose famous quirk
is that he has the gall
to grouse about my work...
As he viciously shreds it
then glunshing and munching
greedily devours it all
leaving no note
or trace of remembrance
of my past brilliance
behind
Oh, out of spite
he might leave a few
of my ill-penned
unfortunate lines
I planned to cut anyway
or pull my worst attempts
from the waste-can
and lay them out
to remind me of my failures
Yes, this explains much
For there was only one before
our one lone ancestor
who was able to write
at this desk prolifically
tapping out volumes rather heroically
'Though tiresome and tedious
dry history and drivel
which, no doubt, shrank and shriveled
and lulled these creatures off
to sleep for years
Until we woke them up
broke their hibernation
with more interesting stories
and imagination, colorfully crafted
ingenious, piece after piece
Clicking and clacking away
on typewriters, keyboards
generation after generation
of irritatingly gifted writers
disturbing their peace
it had to cease...
I wish to make a case for justice
For I feel quite justified
Here at the court
of love's dominion
My grievances surely
Will be satisfied
Your crime is one that's so egregious
A crime of passion multiplied
The details of a sorted sort
May likely cause a strange division
Yet I choose to trust the jury
I beg them to be unified
I thought your ruse was so ingenious
A love noble and dignified
Yet here today in this report
I desire for once a fair decision
For in my heart there is a fury
That I believe is justified
Your beauty rendered me delirious
My once sharp mind was simplified
Then I became a meager sort
Captured by our sinful indiscretion
For you not once was there a worry
That our love could not be sanctified
These charges layed, were very serious
Yet today they were not satisfied
It seems justice, came up a little short
Leaving me to draw my own conclusion
You fooled the men upon the jury
Your sexy looks, fully maximized!
If only Justice had been truly blind.
Your Heart would surely be confined!
For Justin's "Love Justice" contest
insomnia night after night
restlessness tense & disturbed
lying awake the mind modifies
mutates
preceding delusional dreams
consciousness remains alert
creative and mindful words emerge
falling like puzzle pieces
perfectly clear
brain on the ball
title transparent
insomnia creates
another verse
and so it continues.. imagination
inspired though sleepless despair
bedside lamps beam gentle glow
ingenious words emerge and flow
finally...
morning light sets insomniacs free
another poem is shaped
fashioned—complete
elated euphoria
compulsive fixation
communicating
another verse
Copyright-- Kim van Breda
...He said: "I believe there is a God.
Something ingenious was most definitely
at play.
But, I've asked some other
reverends, pastors, and ministers,
where are Jesus' bones?
Not one convinced me, which repulsed
my eagerness to fellowship.
We have
dinosaur bones, giant and dwarf bones,
archeologists artifacts and a slew of other
things that prove that these historical events existed
or occurred.
I'm a total believer of proof!
(with a grin on his face)
Can you answer that"?
The other guy paused and prayed
before taking the quiz!
He says: "the miracle is prophecy since the Old Testament.
And the sacrifice of foul offering
became displeasing to the Creator's taste buds.
And, don't forget about Abraham who was willing
to sacrifice his own son when God asked him
to pledge his allegiance... an Initiatory joke
that the creator ante up one
with a pure scarifications and sacrificial lamb;
his own child!
You and I have bones from our parents
meshing. The sperm penetrated the egg.
Mary, a virgin,
impregnated by a message
that she would bear a child.
Without the meshing of two
those bones
left the same way that they arrived... Miraculously
with dominion over hell and a graveyard".
Viciously, infernally incredibly hot, is its dominance
Excitedly referred to as ‘Women come from Venus”,
Naturally, Roman Goddess of beauty and love, ingenious,
Unsure of falling in love with Venus, no water I fear,
Seduced by folklore, don’t become a foolish Pioneer!
Contest Info : "planet"
Sponsor: Matt Caliri
Dated 28th May 2021
Animals animals all we are
Have come from the jungle that's oh so far!
Happily happily we came dancing here
With many lessons that you all have to hear.
I am the ferocious lion king
The song of Valour is what I sing
Never take a step back in times of peril
Be always a man of pride and virile.
I am the mighty elephant here
I do have an empathetic ear
It's always good to stay grounded
Family turns your life fulfilled.
I'm the little squirrel in the burrow
Unfailingly active in every high and low
Vigilance and resilience are my innate traits
Your effort, I say, opens all the gates.
I am the restless naughty monkey
I am ingenious and witty
Fun and mischief are so vital
In a serious lifestyle for a quick revival.
I am the curious cub of the bear
My mom is so strict and fair
She taught me the way to make an owlish choice
And to always listen to the clever mind voice.
Animals animals all we are
Have come from the forest that's oh so far!
Oh dear humans! You're the best of all
Live and let live breaking the wall.
These Hallowed halls
Frequented by myth and griffin
Whose presence Guards these priceless minds
Protecting the unwritten novels
M C Squared and ingenious thoughts
The prophesy of zero one
This gluttony of ideas thirsting on capitalisms juice
Summoning their messiahs to walk among us
The commodities of life, this treasured bible
Children the future and Capitalism dissects,
Yet Another batch of disciples
So what care I for prophets of doom
Population before climate
Religion over peace
Vanity before reason
Pride over poverty
Cap and gown before that which created me
For I live high above these ghetto streets
Yet my peace is drowned by Evening chorus
Screams from the gutter
Another tattoo and the rush of heroin
Another type of messiah
Something for the poor to believe in
Just another nickel and dime resource to me
Yet to hear this is a damnation of me
This arrogance over nature
To control that thing
That shackles our existence
That jails our thoughts
Prostitutes our freedom
And lets us die without reason
This way of life
Of poverty and desperation
Of concrete and aborted foetus
Of welfare cheques and sex for sale
Of unhappy beings behind
Unhappy doors
Protecting their own portals of betrayal
In a private subjugated hell
For Compassion has left these mortal beings
And my mind is closed, for there is no profit for me
But conscience is my jury
And nailed to this holy cross
The verdict is written
Vermin under the butterfly
For compassion was never my thing?
And Human nature can be,
A most desperate thing.
Unlimited by borders
or boundaries
Limitless capacity
to roam
My ingenious device
takes me far from home
I can travel the world
at break-neck speed
or at my leisure
Whatever I want
my device serves up
instantly grants me pleasure
Its magic's on 24/7
even when I'm asleep
half of me's on on earth
the other half's in heaven
No computer can match me
I'm not a chip or 5G
I'm the brain you were born with
How about investing in me?