Best Irony Poems
There’s a beguiling danger in beauty…
seduced as I was by the fickle fingers of fate musingly stroking my hair,
I envisaged
this lusciously lavish landscape
of sun-raptured heavenly hills and valid valleys
to be a lush, plush place for me to land ~
alas, such deception my naive perception did offer.
Buried beneath the facade of a fertile dream-come-true
and a mesmerizing mirage of natural light and zephyrus breaths -
where your thoughts hugged the horizons of my mind
like clouds on the edges of prairie dog skies
and where your stampeding passions trampled my inhibitions -
were delicate bandeaux of ice;
finespun and feathery like polar gossamer
that formed on the stems of your ruptured dreams
that then became my nightmare
when you had your hard freeze
while warm sap still flowed through your veins,
pumped and pushing through your broken being
and freezing on contact with the chilled clime
cocooning me, in a sudden silken surge of your glazing gauze
holding me, in the vivid wild magic of your frosted crystallized clutches -
fossilizing me, in icy opalescent ribbons of ornate whorls.
Unable to escape the grasping glacial petals of your exquisite pain,
your frost flowers plunged me into the frigid heart
of your bitter bluestem’s prairie winter...
There’s a beguiling beauty in danger
hypnotized and hijacked
as I was by the rhythmic sways of your tall grass ways -
your flickering tongue tasting my air
as my emotions were extorted
till I was bled white -
obviously oblivious
that I was being preyed upon
by a stealthy force of nature motivated by indigenous instincts.
Susan Ashley
March 13, 2018
~ First Place ~
Premiere Contest: Poetry for the Sake of Poetry
Sponsor: John Lawless
*bluestem: tall grass native to the Great Plains with bluish leaf sheaths*
*frost flower: thin layers of ice extruded from long-stemmed plants in autumn or early winter. These thin ice layers form dainty ‘ribbons’ or ‘petals’*
"Rhyming poems have nothing of substance to say
They're childish! Ridiculous! Silly! Passe!
What's that - 'The Raven,' fine prose, you assure?
Pshaw, a talking bird is not Literature!
'The Road Not Taken' - how indecisively trite
'Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer's Day' ~ why, out of spite?
'How Do I Love Thee' - such female nonsense!
'She Walks in Beauty,' not even past tense!
'Oh Captain, my Captain' just repeats and repeats
'Death Be Not Proud' - indeed, no great feat
Rhyme is over and done, finite, dead
Give me a rambling run-on sentence, instead!"
Sure, it's easy to call Dr. Seuss poppycock
HIS books are world-famous, what have YOU got?
12/11/18
Entered in 'Living It Up for Laughter' contest
In a moment of juvenile jealousy
he envies his red rival
with its intimate and greedy embrace of her angels’ share
of honey and vanilla spice
as wet stretchy hands of fervent fabric
possessively cup
her brandied beauty
amidst wistful notions
to revive his parched heart
he craves to be ladled with her ardent spirits
to be cradled in the tulip of her essence -
evaporating every chill from the calyx of her sweetened cordial
warming her in the hearth of his hands
as she melts
like buttery sunbeams
intoxicating the bleached beachy sands..
his dreamy grin falters and his tantric trance fades
as tattered edges of reverie unravel -
a haze beclouds his aged green-eyed gaze
graying his white periwinkle pipe dream
as he sees that his best days are long past
Susan Ashley
July 18, 2018
Devils deadly dime
The sign said no grown-up at the playground.
Tripping on a penny, like a mime!
My hand is in my pocket with the dime I found.
Its all mine, I asked for the devils hand that time.
Echoes in my head, bounded by a screaming sound.
Paying for a forgotten crime,
on what comes around goes around.
A prison with greed that carries an evil musical chime.
Jumping off the merry-go-round!
Encouraged by the devil,
the pleasure of his deadly nursery rhyme.
Now the world is measured by my blood level.
The devils delight feasted on my youth before I hit my prime.
Bashing my mind, with thoughts implanted by evil.
Entering the day with no beauty to my sublime.
Begging him to remove this anvil!
He laughed while he cursed me with a favor for a favor.
A fallout so violently in this world not civil.
One can only lust on the taste that only he can savor.
Hanging out by the swings wounding me with prey,
on two victims to his delicious flavor.
I climb my way to teach a lesson in hate not love.
Two siblings who always scream for each other.
Giggling as I offered each a push and a shove.
Stopping they give each other a big hug.
Defeating and proving love is a stronger disease
The devil wicked eyes looking at me like a bug.
Clawing at my inner guts with remorse that he will win this war.
Until another day one skips the penny,
and begs a poor fool like the devil for his dime.
Tossing heads for his tail when times hits rock bottom.
I will stray away from his deadly reaction time.
He will not own my soul so freak'em,
and his greedy deadly beg of a dime.
by;pd
It’s only the good that die young.
I sadly have found it seems true.
While evil across earth is flung,
God’s purest of souls are too few.
I sadly have found it seems true
the wicked live long past their prime.
God’s purest of souls are too few.
On earth they live but a short time.
The wicked live long past their prime.
The goodly to heaven do go.
On earth they live but a short time.
The sun shines on the righteous though!
The goodly to heaven do go,
while evil across earth is flung.
The sun shines on the righteous. . . though
It’s only the good that die young!
Written April 12, 2016 for The sun shines on the righteous Poetry Contest of Seren Roberts
I have the rhythm of a winding road
how do I consign myself to being confined...
rows of poplar pillars prop
the rendezvous canopy beneath we meet
—I self-cajole on ooh-la-la afternoon
yellow eyes; daffodils watching
lean into gossip groups nodding
a prodding breeze instigating deep-freeze—
I am a sweet weed in this place of sway and betray
with a stranger I stroll my arranged betrothed
height of his black top hat challenges trees
much like Corinthian columns
guards of an aisle I must walk —dear God! must walk
trepidation trips down my bridal spinal column
tiger eyes; lilies watching wish they were me
dare they dream they could uproot their roots like me
wish they could wedding waltz like I must —like I must
but their envy-leaves remain embrace-less
—I envy lilies’ empty arms of yet unmet love
daffodils; empty-headed —laugh
they try to read my mind to fill their own
what do I care their curdled thoughts lemon tart
and orange lilies’ brocade brimstone
what do I fear of fire-breathers burn of words
undergrowth feels square heels of my lace-up boots
post impression grows more expressive than first—
beware French tongues of sundew and burdock burr
marriage-carriage rolls in ruts to Versailles
where my coerced corset of hooks and ties lie
rhythm of a winding road dies in minuet strangle-hold
**Back smile/smile Back **
With your heads way up your :]ssa[:
You will never accomplish the win
I got shots that will protect me from your rabid ways
After you fell into a non-stop falling disease,
Your movements weakened
Straight from a dried up well,
Every day you frolic in a disorder that causes more brain damage
With progressive mental retardation
You continue to lick the top of your cleft lips
He is the saddest sadist human that ever lived!
So sad he has to live with himself every night
Kissing his young ones Goodnight
In ways I can't even breathe to tell
The way he follows rabbits down the bunny hole
Killing each laughing hare
Wiping smiles, leaning in,
The madness in Alice's Wonderland
Madder and Madder The Hatter
Revealing
Your boldness is nothing more than baldness
A man in a monkey suit
Molesting the minds of his idiotic circle,
Trying to kill the joy, not knowing
We don't care about his false Harvard WAY
I rather stay here dropping out, than pretending
Following his made-up perception, a cropped out waste
His taste, my best copypaste, he jacked on
A stench, they left behind when open mouths laugh
He educates by attacking women better than his own
Silently to the top of his knife, he stalks nakedly
Removing a few poems he plagiarized
His Poorness, brought many to donate to the salvation of his army
Sadness Delivered by the Joy Killing Poet and his little pigs
Cross My heart and hope to die!!!
~SKAT~
My confession
I murdered them all
impostors
claims of poetic devices
when the evidence was only
rants piled upon rants
A circle of praises
made the courts dizzy
the frauds committed
only added to their notoriety
under oath
all their poems shattered
The judge looked me in the eye
how do you plead sir
"Guilty as charged your honour"
I here by then sentence you to 19 days
you must pay for each crime
one day for each scoundrel exposed
-"x+2 = 4"-
Enigmas of the soul
Do you know how it feels?
Never tasted before
Invisible Sun
PD
She's dressed in freshly laundered scrubs,
a floral top and pants pale blue.
There for a moment to hand me a gown,
and tell me what to do.
As I'm getting undressed, she checks on a man,
he's in the room right next to mine.
He's crying in pain and begging for help,
I hear her tell him that he'll be fine.
A few moments later, the crying has stopped,
as she leaves she turns out his light.
Whatever she did, it's done the trick,
he'll be able to sleep tonight.
She's back with me now and with her this time,
she has her tools in tow.
It's 3 in the morning and she must be tired,
but if she is it doesn't show.
Thermometer ready to check my 'temp,
lift my tongue and tuck it under.
As she wraps the black cuff around my arm,
I watch her and I wonder.
Working twelve hour shifts,
three days off then four days on.
Has she a husband or any children,
who miss her when she's gone?
Does she like cooking or singing?
Does she paint or like to read?
The needle, she pricks me, with such precision,
I hardly even bleed.
My IV's in place, my medicine given,
she says goodnight with eyes so kind.
Just as I'm drifting off into sleep,
a thought suddenly enters my mind.
To this woman I leave my health in her hands,
a serious matter, this isn't a game.
It strikes me as crazy just how much I trust her,
when all I know of her is simply her name.
By~Michelle Lacey
Even as a child of God -
when it came right down to it
she stood firmly on her child’s side -
not God’s
.. and damn
how I envied that..
my friend
much to my dismay
chose a parent
as a closest confidant
breaking all laws of teenage angst
and going against
all preconceived
conceptions, norms and nature
I watched as they walked
a harrowed path together
mom being there for child —
smugly snuggly hammocked
in her emotional safety net
.. and damn
how I envied that..
I walked my path alone
because my mother
would have chosen
God’s side...
.. and damn
how I now envy that..
Susan Ashley
September 9, 2018
~ Ninth Place ~
Contest: Truth Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Anthony Slausin
Twas the night before christmas
and Christ was left out,
with no peep of the Good News,
no mountainous shout.
Stockings were hung
by the chimney the same,
but no one made mention
of the Savior's name.
On this sacred night
there were still shopping plans.
Their heart was poured out
through money changers' hands.
'Twas the hustle and bustle
of past Christmas Eves.
Once deemed a holy night,
now a den of thieves.*
Folks went into debt
for the pleasure to give,
not counting the cross
and what it cost to forgive.
Presents were plenty.
Wish lists were fulfilled,
but they didn't thank God
for the blood that was spilled.
An "X" had replaced
the unspeakable name.
Christmas without Christ
was now one and the same.
'Twas the night before Christmas
and Christ was left out.
The townsfolk had forgotten
what Christmas was about.
Merry Christmas to all; let Christ become your light.
*Matthew 21:12-13
And Jesus went into the temple of God, and cast out all them that sold and bought in the temple, and overthrew the tables of the moneychangers, and the seats of them that sold doves, And said unto them, It is written, My house shall be called the house of prayer; but ye have made it a den of thieves."
12-2-19
I have just discovered the real definition
of irony
The word Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia
What a lengthy word to describe the fear of long
words - how ironic!
What does it look like
From over there
Describe the sights
No details spared
How does it taste
Is it always delicious
By the look on your face
I’m a bit suspicious
I happen to be
Opposite to you
On the humanity tree
Like yellow and blue
I imagine your half
An enlightened bunch
No need for math
Just an arrogant hunch
It seems quite ironic
To say the least
That, in fact, you’re ignorant
Yet too smart to see
The day goes --
but I do not
The west wind blows
and I am still
I'm free to fly
but I just watch
Thoughts of why
I know not
Afraid to be ---
in a world so rough
Afraid for you
is faith enough
A soul at peace
in world at war
Life drifts with ease
but what's in store
The sun will set
then we'll see
A time for rest --
for you and me