Best Insouciance Poems
"The Wormwood Portfolio"
Reams of stories
riddled with worms
wood for burning
all the children
cover their eyes
tears smoked
into the lungs
gender fluid
propheticising
bitter water
electric brains
chipped like
fine-boned China
downloading
overloads
dumps are
damp
the fuse
sizzles and
stops
green as absinthe
gauche ghosts
gone all grey skinned
scales of merit
charred unweighted
vacant and vacating
like dandelions
scattering over
the barren wombs
of the childless landscape
dreaming of biblical babies
suckling the wanton breasts
of Desdemona’s structural points,
a sharp essay, feeding insouciance
mistaken identities and confusion
side-blinded by the light
of the tempestuous kill shot
burnt and scarred
beeseeching open handed
faces turning like time dials
towards two suns
gold gone all black holed
dead verdant plants
hot feet blistering
make no more demands
skipping, games of patter-cake
powdered ochre yellow
here's the church and here's the steeple
open your hands where are the people
like viruses, germinating
no more prayers to enchant
daughters of eve
sons of man
when the Word finally speaks
there is hearing damage
Reams of stories
riddled with worms
wood for burning
all the children
cover their eyes
;
the ides of march
recant.
(LadyLabyrinth / 2021)
"A tear in the brain
allows the voices in
they wanna push you off the path
with their low-frequency wires..."
recant. v.
Wormwood.
Ides of March.
Categories:
insouciance, dark, life, light,
Form:
Free verse
The task begins with awareness, and freedom without it is harmful. So let us not look back in fury or forward in panic, but rather around in awareness. By Poet
Let me tell you a story.
Can you Imagine a harsh quiet? Jeers sneer idleness,
or scoff to classify the ultimate sinful act of sadness;
or quashing irk for an eternal colossus of havoc,
perhaps the planet was spaed and will be ruined here.
Cynical scorn asphyxiates, cauterizing all life on Earth;
who can imagine how vile days linger eerie memories?
how often tongues are swelled with astringent tartness?
those with acidic sadness tease with a biting reply.
Soul was sunk on all live paws to quell a herd of verrucae,
could you kindly scan feeble shapes on a pealing day?
how would you handle a splenic tongue with an awful zest?
or apply on a scorching sting a horrible sneering welt.
Mortal musings slay my sight while roaming ruins,
I feel the pain, frocking seconds ripen fruitful minutes;
none to stop him, acidulous hours burn a swollen body,
did you honor your vow not to view your tears in public?
Or, to win, they select the nuclear light to avow the day,
scavengers swarming forbidden self-destruction zones;
where the war had started, it was awarded might;
whenever beguiling eyes and spite the sight,
I hate lethal viruses as much as a police car passing by;
I hate falling asleep at night as well as not falling asleep,
I hate the doorbell at night and massive storms,
I hate going broke or having too much money.
I fear being late and fear being the first to come;
I fear that all I yearn for might jeopardize others I love;
I fear death or a miserable existence for a long time,
I fear not adoring enough and being confused.
Slow slurps, wearing vengeful speeches bleary;
on stage atomic bombs were used to turn the sky purple;
Insouciance fosters the dreadful pulverization,
I should have dropped my Kyiv pass.
wabbling world......
2ND PLACE CONTEST WINNER
Written: April 17, 2022
Theme: War
Form N - Narrative - New Poems Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Categories:
insouciance, analogy, angst, inspirational, war,
Form:
Narrative
she was amorphous,
shapeless and humble-
no ethereal sky could
release her self-assurance
her lassitude ran wild-
for she was weary since birth,
sacrificing what was never hers
for the chase of redemption
ceasing who she was to become
as i stacked sandbags against
the river of her sorrow-
created a dam to make sure
she would stay safe and dry
i wear propinquity like
a silk blanket as i start to
reminisce on all the opulence
she longed for
her insouciance was
a blithe nonchalant notion-
verses of fear prevail in
subtle solitude,
and
i am left without breath,
alone without the ability
to release what used to
be mine…
~for it’s always been her~
wrapped up in a floppy
cardboard box tightly
wound with a dull ruby ribbon-
there was no way out,
lost in a lopsided labyrinth
laden in a tomb too coarse
to decay,
she awaited the day disarray
went adrift-
craving a heavenly haven,
abandoned and graven;
she weeps in woe –
seraphs begin to pray...
for death is none but a moment away
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
1.) amorphous
2.) lassitude
3.) propinquity
4.) opulence
5.) insouciance
date - 1.29.20
Exalted Words Poetry Contest
Chantelle Anne Cooke
I chose these words because I thought they would fit well
with my theme of loneliness and sorrow about the sad life
my sister led before taking her life. I struggle daily, still,
after almost 10 years. Each word uses the imagery of the
emotions she felt dealing with depression and anxiety.
She was so sad and troubled, though the most beautiful
woman I ever met.
(thank you for this contest, it was healing)
Categories:
insouciance, death, deep, sorrow,
Form:
Free verse
Crisp metamorphosis of color
Tempestuous leaves tap dance on
Tangled wind's insouciance
Wayward sun's scarlet wink
Feckless orange flirts
Fey cinnamon
Coyly bold
Feisty
Fall.
8/23/19
Categories:
insouciance, autumn, color, confidence, nature,
Form:
Nonet
An obtuse angle is an angle of greater than 90° and less than 180°. Wiki
I must be looking like an obtuse angle
in my funeral agent's eyes -
an over ninety years old,
(but less than one hundred and eighty)
indigent sunburnt naked geezer
who likes to meditate on the rooftop -
an egregious instance of treachery and immorality.
He is pretty delicate, my funeral agent, though,
when calling to enquire after my health.
- Nausea? - he's asking me with hope.
- Delirium?
- Convulsions?
Insouciance.
Freedom.
Awakening.
I'm sorry to disappoint him.
I like funeral agents:
they mediate between life and death
and consecrate the right to a decent funeral.
Alas, they attach too much importance to acute angles.
15/08/2019
Eight Word Challenge 9 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: John Hamilton
Categories:
insouciance, life,
Form:
Free verse
3.
Or down yet another city street,
This Way down that grand Hiway,
That Third Eye opened:
Random patches of dandelion manifest,
Climbing the overgrown commons by the road;
Disappearing out of sight -
By the cracked, sun-blanched sidewalk;
Golden and deep emerald green dandelion
Over the smog-choked horizon.
Humanity on the brink,
Sliding down that proverbial 'slippery slope" -
To the proverbial abyss of our insouciance, to
Our bourgeois folly, infernal cruelty fed by witless greed,
The more mundane, mere surface of all things, as they may be.
But again, surely, this can't be all that is: So mean, so toxic.
Refreshed, one looks again, looks with eyes wide open with
New Saving Knowledge.
Now the patches of dandelion seem even more startlingly
Alive and vibrant.
They seem, somehow, almost "more real than real".
Illumined, they appear hyper-real, dazzlingly brilliant,
Appear preternatural, mesmerisingly coronal, and
Opulent, yet as though man-made, like ethereal origami,
Like the sun itself, another Saving "Point of Navigation" to
the Hidden Infinite Divine Source behind all things mundane.
*****
"Jesus said [to Judas Iscariot], 'Come and I will teach you ...
about a great realm and a boundlessness whose measure no angelic
race has comprehended. In it is the great Invisible Spirit ...'"
--- The Gospel of Judas 10: 1 - 5
"God is one's very 'own'. It is the eternal relationship. One realizes Him in
direct proportion to the intensity of one's feelings for Him. Don't be afraid.
Always remember that somebody is protecting you."
"He who is really anxious to cross the ocean of the material world will somehow break his bonds. No one can entangle him."
--- The Holy Mother, Sri Saradamani Devi, the divine consort of
Sri Ramakrishna
"Mary [Magdalene] said [to Jesus Christ], 'Lord, is there a place which [lacks truth]? The Lord said, "The place where I am not!'"
--- From the Dialogue of the Savior
"God is a dyer. As the good dyes, which are called 'true', dissolve with
the things dyed in them, so it is with those whom God has dyed. Since his dyes are immortal, they are immortal by means of his colors."
--- From the Gospel of Philip
Categories:
insouciance, philosophy,
Form:
Prose Poetry
teetering the streets early morning dawn
as I left the swagger at the bar guzzling beers
I encountered the devil
the butt of a gun stopped the fun of insouciance
as for ever four metal plates in the face
not deter day or night the walk of evil
for the what not of few dollars in a pocket
an attempt at a slot to produce more
and the debit keeping its pin from you I smile still
Categories:
insouciance, forgiveness,
Form:
Narrative
Money, you are such a fool,
Dastardly you run into pockets,
Where plenty is already stored.
You carry on like a heartless goon,
And they say you are a useful tool.
You have no regard for my needs,
Drawn to frivolous fineries,
Making lovely souvenirs in my starvation.
Your march from my account will not cease,
Oh how you love to watch me bleed.
Don’t think I can’t hear your mocking tone
Saying: why don’t I earn more?;
It’s not your fault I wasn’t born rich;
Or maybe I should just take out a loan;
Don’t worry about debt, just be glad for the dough.
But see money, I have a plan for you.
We may never be friends but we will be together.
Your disrespect and insouciance will be ignored,
While all my dreams come true.
And you shall be utterly silent,
When I’m enjoying my mansion’s view!
Categories:
insouciance, money,
Form:
Personification
Hent my heart from wandering concepts of affection.
Recant the murmurs of insecurity that riddled my temple.
Like a slow wound toy awaiting release from a child's grasp and attention.
Toss and birl, whipsawed into the oblivion of life's gamble.
Take away this wretched knife in my side.
A knife that twist with every incantation.
Those bastards! Jackanapes! Stirring in the tides.
Exordium! When I appear to disappear. Insouciance!
This tires me into a gaumless breathing, beating whole.
Furl all I can, these product of fallibility and madcap.
As I breathe deep into a bibelot diamond. The centre of my soul,
I feel the urge to plotz from reminders and blankets.
As I indite a subtle line of assurance. I contrived.
Culling into materials and conversations. I quelled.
Forgoing this disposition. Finally, Peace has arrived.
Retribution in it full essence. Salient though dishevelled.
Categories:
insouciance, jealousy,
Form:
Rhyme
one seventh heaven fantasy of this middle aged hetero
sexual mwm would be to take the playbook of the late
(recently deceased) Hugh Hefner. Said reverie constitutes
servicing a gamut of women, whose plethora in numbers
constitutes insatiable sexual propensity sans propinquity
perp hussy.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
despite mine middle aged (baby boomer) mwm base line
balled (though non bald) sans truth, isle be quite Ernest
and frank to state boldly, how thine bass concupiscence
trumps ambience, dalliance, essence, fragrance, generates
hefty indulgence (je nais se quois) juice kissing libidinal
makeup nursing omnipresent phallic quintessential reverent
seduction triggers unflaggingly (leaving me starry eyed for
stripes sakes) vision watering x2c (to the x power of infinity)
yielding zesty adulterous blessed coital consummation,
delicious expeditious fulfillment, generous gentle hormonal
insouciance, judiciously kneading lusciously marvelous
natural occurring pleasance, quiescent radiance, rousing
somnambulant threnody ushers victorious waltzing X-rated
yearning zeal to take a page from the playbook of the very
recently deceased Hugh Hefner housed within the PlayBoy
mansion. Game gamines gestalt gifted gonads, gopher
Categories:
insouciance, butterfly, desire, devotion, freedom,
Form:
Free verse
The foreign bird
I knew him well trying to blend in
Speaking the language too flawlessly
So, the embarrassment when he
On occasions, got it wrong.
It was not his mother tongue so
His speech was too slow and learned.
Made the language into disharmony
In a country where people speak
The tongue with a certain insouciance.
He, although people are polite, hasn’t
Got many friends they sense, I think,
His tragic loneliness like an echo
Of a country, he left behind that he
Instead of embracing his otherness
Tried to hide it.
Categories:
insouciance, arabic, aubade, bangla, beach,
Form:
Blank verse
I am placed along the line of your existence
seeking for the stray reflection of my shattered heart.
Your laughter consumes my sighs,
like a whirl full of ebullience.
My lament covers the dulcet sound of your breath,
resembling a sharp veil that originates from pain.
Harmony is nourished by conflicts,
silence is preserved by howls.
I extol your alluring frailties,
I surrender to the fragility of your embrace.
I cannot endure the lack of light,
I feel faint when I gaze the projection of your absence.
With a bit of insouciance
I accept the raging storms of your wills,
I shake the grasping hands of your ego.
Our love is a harsh breeze coming off
the unequal sides of the same shape.
Stop measuring the decay of the ineffable sentiments,
observing the torment of the confined expressions.
Cling to the crooked branchlet of uncertainty,
gather the cinders of doubt
and start looking for the concealed truth.
The profound grief finds solace
in the blooming petals of bliss.
Step over the curvature of your imagination
and confront the humble moments we share.
Let’s relish the soft crumpling of life
no matter how evanescent our memory can be.
At the end of the day,
you will reminisce the colloquy of the shadows,
my achingly beautiful anger,
the nebulous ambivalence we experienced.
Never forget that if you want to be the sun,
you have to absolve moon’s indiscretion.
Categories:
insouciance, allegory, divorce, loneliness, love,
Form:
Free verse
On that heinous night you shrouded me off my dignity and ruptured My whole life
I bleed like watermelon
despite the tears rolling down my cheeks you keep on riding on me because you're a filth
my eyes got puffy and red
A part of me has been torn apart
the pluck in his eyes shows he's a monster
He played his game to him I was a chess
i was so helpless as I watched My dignity taken away
A pride that will never be mend
whenever he feels a thirst, I was his prey to quench his thirst of lust
As tears keeps rolling down my chins just like an ocean
I can still feel his dirty hands penetrating through my poor skin
I can hear the echoes of mockery all around me
my breath got stuck at the back of my throat
I can't hold myself
the hours you spent strumming me will not make you a macho man
You murdered my innocence and took my sanity away
No matter how many times I bath I still stinks
is the season of hunger where dogs eat their own
His words are ruthless and cruel , but your words make the spark inside of me grow to a raging fire
my body isn't yours to swallow
All the metaphors remain thesame
Why did you choose me to satisfy your deadly lust
Because I was born with a or because I have legs with a space between them or I look sweet for a taste
Are we turning into a statistic
You deserve to die and your body devoured by animals
pieces of me are still lying on the floor
Tell me what to do
should I disperse them to the winds of insouciance or will you keep them safe for me in your heart
When I talk about my trauma am not asking you to carry it or relieve me from it am just asking you for your time to feel a little light in my heart so that I can reclaim my own body
Even the words slices my tongue each time I try to talk
Now I speak, for I'm done being weak
stop invading our privacy
we'll take control of our own bodies and uphold our pride and dignity
it's time to raise
it's time for justice
we're the voice of the raped
@bint__ abdolrahman
Categories:
insouciance, depression, grief, poetry, poets,
Form:
Acrostic
Test of Time
Who builds courage with
time?
Who with a right character
Always looks delight like a
star?
Who endures in cloudy climes,
with moderation as her
shelter?
Who approaches all asperities
with passion?
They that have perseverance
and endures with aplomb
They that are tolerant
those who are insouciance
They that have endurance
And that are noble
They that are temperate
Those who are patient.
For all poetry soup members
and my love Margret.I love
you
all.
Saint Andrew Joseph
Categories:
insouciance, inspirationallove, endurance,
Form:
Sonnet
Having succumbed to suicidal insouciance,
From which mellifluous melted words dripped,
She fought the nemesis of the inner annoyance,
Who beleaguered her with languishing lips.
The lithe lips whose fingers scratched labyrinthian letters,
Upon parchment paper with opulent serendipity,
Ever flowing in metric harmony by her gossamer tethers,
Of her susurrous voice that echoed from cerebral captivity.
Such dalliance in the days in which she sung,
Erstwhile her evanescence breathed harbingers of art,
Whilst lassitude disentangled the scrummage she strung,
In time's spun web of temporal tricks to either end or start.
May your words resound in palimpsest,
And across them may there grow,
A cynosure of eyes to hide the grimmest,
Of morose inure from whence you've known.
If time could send me back to when,
You opened up the sepulcher in your oven,
I'd make sure to take and tell you then,
Let's make, instead of head, some lemon muffins.
Categories:
insouciance, death, dedication, poets,
Form:
Rhyme