Best Jauntily Poems
Written: November 24, 2024 for contest Sponsored by: Kai Michael Neumann
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In a calyx of ambivalent dreams,
where shadows swirl as silken strands,
I slip through the surface,
a sailboat in a tide of thoughts,
where colors speak in whispers,
and sounds weave a tapestry
of guffaw and sighs.
I am an astronaut,
zipping into a cosmos of canorous clangor
past comets with names such as chimera
and planets blooming with a corpulent deluge
simmering under layers of desultory dust,
each a sun waiting
to ignite an encomium spark.
Footfalls on the ledge of splendor,
swirling in circles,
a kaleidoscope of moments —
jumping from the quicksilver
of a fleeting glance,
to the deep sinkhole of silence,
where time slows to the pulse of heart.
Here, on this canvas of perception,
the boundary of self dissolves,
melting into the esoteric ocean
and excruciatingly eviscerated thoughts
are squid jauntily joined by caring currents,
amber-colored fires dancing on the horizon,
unraveling secrets hidden in their stings.
I chase shadows,
those swift-painting phantoms,
a ghostly gap in gnarled grooves of life,
seeking sincerity in a swirl of sights —
the stillness of awareness,
longing wrapped in vibrant coils,
darkness stitched with fragile threads of light.
In stillness, I stroll.
feeling every pulse evolve into a quilt of colors.
tracing trails tracked by supple notions.
as the clock spins dizzy tales —
my pen touches the sky,
gathering glimpses in gradients of glides.
a jaunt laced with lingering layers.
charting caverns of concealed aspirations.
where wisdom blooms in wild gardens,
Inviting all intrepid inclined to intrude
the twinkling, tantalizing tones
of existence, endlessly entwining
every exhale an echoing essence.
of something that yearns.
to be liberated and let loose.
Categories:
jauntily, analogy, meaningful,
Form:
Free verse
It is gratifying that,
Words still have simpler forms,
And feelings still have milder versions.
That seasons still change,
And I get to soak up the sun everyday.
How I know,things most don't,
And jauntily skip the world that don't recognize me.
How I can love,
And know my heart's bigger,
my sky's bigger,
my smile's bigger,
Than those petty bundles of flesh and bones will ever know
The world for me isn't just a place,
It's a mother's love,
A young girl's dreams,
A dead man's wish to be reminisced,
Sweet summer breeze,
A bouquet of tulips,
A child's curiosity,
Not merely a story,an allegory.
Categories:
jauntily, allegory, angel,
Form:
Free verse
Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde
Jovial Dr Jekyll played for juvenile Justice
a just jaspered journey
jokingly jumped a joyride
to juicy jukebox jabbering
in jackal jackboots
from nearby jungle
Dr Jekyll clasped a jackknife eating
jambalaya to justify a
juggled juxtapositional
jurisdiction jamming
as jugular vein jingled jewels
joyfully jauntily jaywalking
to a jay named Jim Jolly !
Onward he jumped to a
Jungian junction
Jupiter jocund watching his
journeying joints
journalese seemed a jibe jig
but neither Jewess, Jesuit
or jeweller jiggled this job
So he jerked his jess
like a jape for Japan
Jejuning onto January for the
next jangle of jasmine
No jellyfish was Dr Jekyll in Jordanian jerkin
though sometimes Mr Hyde
with jeroboam swirling alongside !
Categories:
jauntily, 12th grade, extended metaphor,
Form:
Alliteration
Vets ate free at Applebee’s
To honor them this day,
A heartfelt offer bringing
Good publicity their way.
Lots of stores gave discounts, too,
To soldiers with I.D.
And many took advantage
Of this generosity.
Every town and city had
A veterans’ parade,
With marching bands and waving flags
Quite jauntily displayed.
It shouldn’t be one day a year
To venerate our vets,
Whose sacrifices often bring
Such heartache and regrets.
We really cannot comprehend
How much their service cost;
Survivors often pay the price
For those whose lives were lost.
Our veterans deserve respect;
The military’s tough.
A gratis meal or dollars off
Is great, but not enough.
Categories:
jauntily, veterans day,
Form:
Rhyme
What Trump Wants: according to John Kelly- Retired Four-star General Trump’s former Chief of staff
—Unchecked power
—Praise of Hitler
—Dictator for a day
—Complete command over our Military
—"Stupid people, our General’s aren’t even General’s”-Daddy Don
—Military against the people
—a new Constitution
Look yonder y’all
to a mighty military
which will answer to me
I’m your fearless leader
in perpetuity
No need to put much emphasis on likability
Despite my personality, I’m in command
It’s an end to all wars, just don’t mind the
chaos I caused while in charge
Some will starve, like those in Gaza
No one that matters,
No bleeding hearts
in my penthouse plaza, I luxuriate here
Jauntily goosestepping
My soldiers march alongside me in lockstep
They do as I say
Pay no heed to the constitution
I did it my way
What you want is fearlessness
Ignore my derangement, put it aside!
Policy is more important, deport everyone
There’s no place to hide
Policy not feelings, policy not emotions!
Not a sentient human being.
by I Am Anaya
My Dear Leader
I have no emotion, I have no feeling
Sentimentality and compassion are weak
So stifle such mush when you speak!
Vermon sneak in, a toxic flood
Poisoning our pure untainted blood!
We shall seek and destroy the enemy within
In lockstep we'll wipe out their sin!
by RG
Categories:
jauntily, america, angst, change, character,
Form:
Political Verse
All through the last winter
I sat on my own
Playing Cushie Butterfield
On my xylophone
I tried it as a two step
I tried it as waltz
Its not easy on a xylophone
To avoid playing shmaltz
But I got it just perfect
It sounded a treat
So I played it on my xylophone
As I walked down the street
And a busker with some bagpipes
Joined in to play with me
And we played Cushie Butterfield
That busker and me
And folk stood there just clapping
And tapping their feet
And soon there was a party
All down that long street
But it wasn’t for long
Were we on our own
For we soon heard the sound
Of a tenor saxophone
And we all played Cushie Butterfield
And it sounded just great
Then the saxophone player
Was joined by his mate
Who played very jauntily
Casting notes afar
Playing the melody on
His 12 string guitar
And we all played Cushie Butterfield
With verve and good cheer
And oh how we wished
Cushie Butterfield could hear
Cushie Butterfiekd - 19th Century Geordie Folk Song
Categories:
jauntily, happy,
Form:
Rhyme
In the twinkle of the night, she skips along the trails through the forest. The
moonlight shines upon her face. She smiles jauntily and her eyes sparkles
like a twinkling star. Reeling with unfettered joy, she leaps upon her toes and
she dance mirthful through the forest in the moonlight like an angel that come
down from heaven.
Categories:
jauntily, happiness,
Form:
A most strange creature walked into the room
upright on two legs he stood oh so very tall
dressed in fine array booted and suited
a hat perched jauntily on his head
He cast around the room eyeing people up
as he strutted back and forth leaving in his wake
a deep silence of disbelief as the folks all stared
and started to draw back as they saw his tail
Not a person was this uninvited guest
no even though dressed as a man
he was a ferocious gorilla in love
seeking out his Jane he hunted around
Not finding her he stood confused
gaping at the people in their finery
come on now said his keeper catching up
and he lead him back to his cage
The gorilla sits there tear running down his face
lost without his Jane he sits in desolation
she had passed away only 5 months ago
now he hunts for her whenever he can
His keeper has tried to jolly him along
even introducing a young lady or two
met with indifferent then ignored
he only want his true love Jane
Categories:
jauntily, animal, lost love, love,
Form:
Free verse
I wandered in the hat store
And there it boldly sat –
Bedecked with bright white flower –
A cheerful orange hat.
Once on my head, it beckoned,
Quite jauntily, indeed,
Attracting more attention
Than a person’d really need.
My husband did encourage;
The salesgirl said – it’s you!
But everything has negatives
And this one had a few –
Like, who knows when I’d wear it
And there’s so much it won’t match;
I guess for every purchase
There’d most likely be a catch.
And so I turned and left,
My hat remaining in the store.
Since I was on vacation,
I can’t get there anymore.
Regret’s a foolish feeling,
More malignant than benign;
And what a fool I was to leave
That hat that should be mine!
Categories:
jauntily, happy, loss,
Form:
Rhyme
3rd march 2012,malvan.
Waves diffuse themselves on sandy shores repeat,
Like fresh feelings in young lover’s kiss, their pristine emotions upbeat.
Youthful hearts pant and gasp, volcanic emotions erupt,
Like Twilight rays caress blue waters and foam splits abrupt.
As night she festoons her darkness a more,
Temptation flares within youthful flesh like burning flames galore.
White virgin sands dormant they spread and lay waiting,
Like warm satins spreads for nocturnal love making.
Dim lit fishing boats tied to their anchors they beacon flash and float,
Akin fresh youthful body lying in wait for the mate ,it’s voluptuousness to note .
Alone here in serene surroundings, feel the caress of the orange light of setting sun,
Tingle in my heart and my emotions wild they have begun to run……..
Rising moon reflects in the shimmering waters all blue,
Like the joys from my heart emerge on to the expressions on my face without ado.
Elegance radiates from the skies as the stars jauntily they dance
Her tasseled hair, and the sweet smell of love’s nectar drive me into a trance.
Diaphanous sea breeze carries supple love’s words unspoken,
Blackened progdious velvet skies nestles my copious passions that are still unbroken.
By: Sashi.Prabhu (zeauoxian)
Categories:
jauntily, love, nature, passion, heart,
Form:
Rhyme
For days now he had hungered.
His search took him along many an avenue,
where his pleas were so harshly ignored.
But his need was such he had to continue,
so to all that he met he implored.
Many turned him away with brusque impatience,
what had he to offer them they all sneered.
Still he searched with all true innocence,
of the way he was evidently feared.
Daringly he turned his gaze upon all,
all those who walked the same paths,
all those who he heard from over their wall,
where they tended their gardens with care,
ever hoping soon he might find that one,
that one person who would freely share.
His recent loss still burned in his heavy heart,
all the devotion he had given and received
had been beyond reproach from the very start.
She had been the one and now alone he grieved.
His thoughts turned to that day when he awoke,
to find his companion gone but yet still there...
No response came as usual to his gentle stroke,
still and cold, so very cold as he proffered care.
All that long day his hope lingered with them,
until night fell and hope slid away numbed,
tangibly wandering out into the dark and mean
moon shadows cast behind their wind rattled shed.
A sharp whistle seemed to bring him from his dream,
it turned his head and stopped him still in his tracks.
He shook his head twice hardly believing the scene,
then ran swiftly towards his mistress now back!
Joyous reunion after those last empty days
filled both as they then embraced so lovingly,
her hands no longer felt cold but her eyes,
her eyes did seem a little pale and misty.
The pair were soon jauntily walking back home
to their ramshackle old potting shed.
All the spiders would ask why did they roam,
neither would answer as they settled to bed.
Down the avenue none had noticed their sheer joy,
none had seen them walk by in such evident glee.
None had heard their footfalls or calls of good boy,
but minutes after one lad saw what didn't flee...
'Hey Mum' he called into the kitchen,
'Come and look at this old dog over here.'
'There's nowt you can do for it Marvin,
poor old thing - must have been a stray dear.'
Back in the shed Good Boy and Mistress rested,
peace was with them amidst peat and dead fern.
Neither ever pined or wept again in their bed,
the hunger was gone now, never more to return.
©Rhumour
June 12th 2009
Categories:
jauntily, hurt, life, poetry,
Form:
Rhyme
The wooden skull and pumpkins
Dangle neatly by the door.
The ghost and owl made of felt
Add much to the decor.
The cat and witch are wishing all
A Happy Halloween
And soon a jack-o-lantern will
Give credence to the scene.
The skeleton quite jauntily
Holds court while on his perch.
The scary part was finding them
From last year - what a search!
Categories:
jauntily, halloween,
Form:
Rhyme
It is the only time we get to laugh at black
So de rigeur at funerals and stogy old photography.
Take Dixie Land at home in New Orleans
Parading back of happy brass from marble sculpted sepulchers.
A mansion in mirage, a wavy misty rambling of rooms.
Their mirrors: windows to another, conjured world.
An agitated specter's greasy lipstick pleads.
How silly in its backward gibberish.
Flies frozen in some floes of ice cube trays
Or eyeballs docked adrift along a punch bowl rim.
In morgues, contracting muscles practice sitting up.
Fingers twitch impatient to be dressed in Sunday's best.
Around grave yards are cemetery stones
Jauntily askew, a sporty take on plumb
Due to a lack of rebar steel or poured cement.
More foundational than wood and bone alone.
Masks flash from unknown alley ways.
Our innards struggle up inside our throats
Suffocated quiet, still, we ache to catch so thin
A claustrophobic breath to be made so easily afraid.
Categories:
jauntily, anxiety, celebration, death, fear,
Form:
Free verse
Stranded courtesy bittercold without food or drink
Dire straits necessitated
yours truly to bethink
outside the box (literally outdoors
of squarish structured nested dwelling),
where blinding albedo effect
forced me to blink,
additionally also ruffled tail feathers
of this sole surviving male bobolink
(North American songbird,
Dolichonyx oryzivorus)
pushing survival species
to extinction brink,
thus series of unfortunate events
woke resident chewink
(North American bird,
Pipilo erythrophthalmus
also called: towhee
or ground-robin),
tweeted from within
his cozy armoire chink
polar vortex froze habitat,
whereby arctic wind found
brushy areas to clink
unwittingly brambles ferocious
waving circular rotation
wrought minuscule countersink
eh, no bigger than a cufflink
his ornate bejeweled complex edifice
compliments of sizable income
allowed, enabled, and provided
opportunity in tandem
with significant other
to create acronym named dink
(dual income without kid)
acquiring handsome combined income
rendering and selling stylized goldfinch
also known as distelfink
common motif in
hex signs and fraktur,
which interpretive native folk art
eye state meaningless
without rhyme nor reason,
superfluous gibberish by George,
and/or...well... courtesy
following more purposeless gobbledygook
defying poetaster to incorporate doublethink
intelligently nsync with downlink
playfully, jauntily, and deliberately
creating confounding badinage eyewink
at thee, no doubt many
an anonymous innocent
reader calling me ratfink
under their breath or more
colorful brutal appellation
inducing cheeks of unknown followers
turning fifty plus shades of firepink
moost definitely concurring gink
perfectly apropos description
concluded individually versus
collectively, quickly, and
unanimously i.e. (think) groupthink
I approve this entire message, which
most likely tinders pet peeve,
concluding GoDaddy liberally did hoodwink.
Categories:
jauntily, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Free verse
What makes a story a poem
A paragraph a verse
I trust I'll find the answer
Before I'm in my hearse
But if you are the man, Sir
Who can provide the answer
Tell me when it happened
That a verse became a stanza
But if you are a poet
Then you will surely know it
For all your lines will rhyme
Except for when they don't
Now I've just confused myself
By using that word 'don't'
Cos I can't find a single word
That rhymes, so I wont
You see, I'm quite prepared to gamble
That when one takes a lonesome amble
And you're a poet it's allowed
To be described as 'as a cloud'
It's like I'm mounted 'pon a horse
And wouldn't you just know it
My steed has trod a wayward course
That's fodder for a poet
But of late the world of art
Has been blown open wide
It seems that art can be a cow
... In formaldehyde
But poems are a different art
And surely even me
Can speak a little jauntily
And call it poetry
So here I sit with pen in hand
The pen is metaphorical
I'm gonna type my poem now
And it shall be historical
A classic of the genre
My ode shall be Imperical
But seasoned poets may proclaim
My efforts are hysterical
By lamplight lit, my ode was writ
Yet no man cared a lot for it
Pen raised, indignantly I hissed
Then I shall write...
My shopping list!
5 November 2018
Categories:
jauntily, poetry,
Form:
Rhyme