Best Leavened Poems
Dressing the ancient stars amid their anthem weddings attire....
The universe anxiously anticipating these adorned galaxies of, anew ~
Bookplate bridesmaids, with such glittering eyes and broadening smiles
Quickly making their jubilant ways down, the amendable aisles
With a world beholding as, the best of man....
Hearkening hearts rejoicing so, very deeply inside; paradise
Standing at the altar aside, the most beautiful of glorious grooms ~
Wearing heavens luminous harvest moon colours; commencing halos
Visages, as a sparkling fireworks display afore the joys of an innocent, awestruck child....
Immaculate and pristine; these most mesmerizing of scenes
Cygnus, gathered here to unite this day, paladin unto the morn ~
Extenuatings pragmatic veil; crimsons silkened tides now torn
From, the final pages of such history and lore; a candid, jewel leavened door....
Prismatics band; lifting these velvet promises of an everlasting rainbows, I do ~
Sidereals notes of well-nigh chime; sweet music across the blue made skies
Church bells, reaching unto the furthest realms this, celebrations invitation
Come one come all; come as you were come as you are; the brightest star
Making their way through the constellations; jubilee, and all of creation ~
Coterie, disembarking at the depot from a waking moment; neverendings, final destination!?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
...."The Wedding, at Dreamendon" ~
Note: Smile ~ "Merry Christmas Everyone; May It Be 'Beautiful & Bright; Love,'" John!:) ~
Categories:
leavened, faith, happiness, holiday, love
Form:
She wore a tiffany hat with a bow and six big plumes of red and white,
it had an ultra wide asymmetrical brim that rolled up to one side.
When it came to dames like this I believe God ran out of humble stock !
She wore pompadour shoes, like she had nothing to lose
and rouge so red it made the cardinals have fainting spells !
Her hair was soaked in henna, elderberry & radish extract,
and I believe her dress was stitched in the boudoir of coco-channel!
She was a nouveau riche reveling in her new found fame
and everything in her life was right as rain until that fatal day,
when her hat expanded 10 x its size, growing past her shoulders
like a great big beast, of leavened yeast!
Her hat pins strained from the strain of those great big plumes,
moaning and groaning from her lithe walk and all that perfume !
Then First World War arrived and suddenly it was unpatriotic
to be concerned with one's appearance !
She was no Rockefeller and didn't own a rupee nor a heller,
so she became a steadfast loyal dame, like dear old Helen Keller .
What happened to that big old hat, with the plumes of red and white ?
She stewed it, brewed it, boiled it down then poured it in a flask,
and yes she drank it slowly,... just in case you thought to ask !
March 30/ 2025
Categories:
leavened, analogy, humorous,
Form:
Narrative
Dough kneaded and leavened,
Designed in circular shape.
Dent in the middle
Deep fried or baked
Dipped in sugar syrup and glazed.
Dutch immigrants’ popular sweet.
Delectable snack, favorite of kids.
Categories:
leavened, appreciation, celebration, sweet,
Form:
Pleiades
Freshly baked every morning,
Even at noon and in the evening,
In different shapes and colors-
Some dense, some light
Some like desert manna
Some flat, some leavened
Some long and whole
Or sliced in small pieces
Some cooled, some hot
So soft and then some hard
With such Heavenly aromas
Served at the Master's Table
Of chairs, booths, benches
And cushions for tired knees,
Healing is the children's bread.
They hunger no more for worldy feasts.
Even their dogs eat the fallen crumbs,
Sometimes portions from their hands;
As the children drink Living Water,
They thirst no more for bitter fountains
And sources of a soul's diseases.
On earth the Master tabernacles
With us for many days of Heaven.
Within without we are healed
And given our daily bread.
Categories:
leavened, family, father, food, children,
Form:
Free verse
Hey Gorgeous Being
You deserve to breathe easy
You deserve amazing food
You deserve love
What is Below, is Above
You deserve heaven
Bread that's leavened
Butter, Love, Honey, Fruits
Shade - only from trees
With deep roots
You deserve a Groot
A nice sharp suit!
Warm, Yummy soup
An awesome pair of Boots!
You deserve Gold
Agriculture... Flowers, vegetables fresh from the ground,
Fruits off the vine,
Geometry in language,
528Hz, 888 Hz...
You deserve Love
Pure as your heart
My Gorgeous Being...
And you will get what you deserve
Categories:
leavened, 12th grade, allusion, beautiful,
Form:
Rhyme
Collaborative Chinese water torture
Dropping fickle whispers
Their foreheads pound with belittled grief.
Egyptian cotton tissues,
Coated in fresh aloe and waxy resolutions,
Torn asunder
Idyllic sonatas
Heaving identity crisis under bus,
One
Note
Off
An exacerbated syllable
Pleasing vultures
Who speak louder than anonymity’s slur
Befuddled visions
Damning clarity upon equator of serenity
Stalking Information Superhighways,
A glorified game of telephone
Where declared verbiage,
Set in Swedish Hot Stones,
Is STILL misunderstood!
Filtered!
Tainted!
Stoking ill-advised dreams
Stroking tact with leavened paper cuts
S h r e d d i n g
yesterdays
Whiplashes against horizons’ symphonies
Choking lyric of March
These hands showed you epiphany lights
Now 2nd face, abandons restitution in onyx dark
…
With their one last cry,
One
Last
Spoken Cry
“Instead of reading our words,
My child,
You should simply open your eyes.”
(Fade to white)
©Drake J. Eszes
Categories:
leavened, conflict, corruption, dark, life,
Form:
Free verse
enjoy the reed
now displayed as a satisfactory deed.
* * * * * *
A Senior Moment - written months ago commemorating
the graduation from a vaunted charter school
in Bend, Oregon of thy lovely youngest,
this papa could not attend -
geographical distance constituting the primary determinant.
* * * * * *
Valedictorian treads across makeshift platform
i.e. most likely auditorium stage marked
by hushed audience inhaling, notating,
and regaling gleeful lightness of buoyant feat
(but me Yeats heavy of heart) feted for 2017 Redmond
Enrichment Academy graduates, who attained,
a milestone vis a vis earning their
high school diploma, and ready to launch
bountiful daunting challenges, yet sure
footed each young gal and/or guy
will exude joy and sorrow upon grasping their
high school diploma aware a sound education
sent each on their own future path
while pomp and circumstances issues forth
by adroit musically talented underclass
* * * * * *
man, which emotional celebrated achievement
evoked by keynote student speaker,
but also underscored via that well worn mortar
board, linkedin, kickstarter, Joyus
tune (composed by Sir Edward Elgar –
subtitled March Number 1) acknowledging
cheers, eliciting grownups immense Kleenex
moistening overpowering quintessentially
simmering ululating wrenching yowling
as tassels flipped (maybe in conjunction with
a non twittering uber bird) to the left side
of the caparisoned newly anointed future
Dharma Bums, professionals and/or trades
persons momentarily stung with sadness
to depart favorite classmates and teachers
who voluntarily cosseted, ferried, and
* * * * * *
capitalone did flickr imperceptibly, kneaded
and leavened LivingSocial, and massaged MineCraft
outlook plenti full confidence, faith, and inherent
lettered oblations serve as snap chatting,
Categories:
leavened, dedication, happiness, high school,
Form:
Elegy
Inspired by the Bridal painting of the Empress Elisabeth of the 19th century Austro-Hungarian Empire -
Elegance, strength as elegance,
elegance of spirit personified as if this extraordinary elegance
was born to be, beyond the devestation of mortals,
so far outside the boundries of the base & banal ravishings
prevelant within peoples' passions and purposes,
escaping expectations of equality,
graciousness was alive within her
like a landscape loved & leavened by a monogamous moonlight,
ebony overcome by the invigoration of ivory,
realising that genuine grace is a monument
of courage confronting chaos, crystallised composure,
she being a template and temple for hopefuls,
in all my experience I have witnessed no woman more ready for power,
more savoring for sacrafice, more able to abate avarice & acrimony,
Elisabeth, the emerald of an Empire,
Mother to minions, mistress of the misery & magnificence of the multitudes,
Master of the stout & savant,
such precocious puissance of personality, regal resilience,
my imagination renders eagles delivering sustenance to her,
bees bringing heavenscent -
J.A.B.
Categories:
leavened, tribute,
Form:
Romanticism
I remember all the humorous things we did
Peering into windows lit by lamps
Climbing cliffs then chased by geese and dog
Walking down from Redcar,sea so still
After Saltburn Pier, the cliffs high jump
I remember all the funny things we did
Wandering Whitby in a sea grey smog
Eating a pork pie cut into lumps
Climbing cliffs then chased by geese and dog
Old Hunstanton ,white sands where we’d sit
The wild spikes of the gorse spread out unclamped
I remember all the colours,scents and that
I feel the joy inside my heart is lit
Woe is leavened by old nature’s stamp
Climbing high then chased through mud by dogs
We see in shadows shades are not so stark
In Studland Bay astonished by skylarks
I remember all the humour and the love
Climbing cliffs then caught by geese and God
Categories:
leavened, allusion, creation, humor, nature,
Form:
Villanelle
O burgeoning soul of sweet things
mellowed to summer's surge,
with autumn's dim appraisal
loitered to a final song of ditties,
the oozes of eve ferment
my fewest keen-felt purges;
Apollo upon his throne spinning rhyme
wild and weary in his gilded city,
shall he sing thy posy prims
in deep delved halls
with lamenting love on his lips ----
stars his eyes,
moons his garland,
and zephyr, his breath
honeyed in Elven tongues?
How I faint to find my words
whistled in wind,
some blacker beauty in light,
some arrayed longing
begging from dark,
Mountain to moe-hill
in the shades of vales,
the swell of seas
soothed in tinge;
Mother Earth my palette ----
She of rainbow hues
and Bright Stars!
How kingdoms fall harsh,
lidless in forest dim
darkness! darkness!
too barren, too ravished....
naked without even shadow;
shall I clothe thee with wisdom?
Sprinkle thy skin
with the canvas of the heavens?
Steep in the silts of rills
and the leavened soils
of bubbling brooks
drink thy vintage feverish
for the nectar of nightingales
soaked in song
the gods shall push thy pen
prancing, dark winged
as smooth-perched rooks
O wan child fettered and foiled!
thou needed a swifter love all along;
thou canst express with bitter deeds ----
idle words too sober without melody,
a better posy than Shakespeare's?
Categories:
leavened, tribute,
Form:
Ode
Oh the things I could have said
During the heat of our wrangle
I kept tact and class instead
Of controlling every angle
For every grenade you threw
I had two more on my belt
I chose to let yours accrue
Just to see how you felt
I took the high road
To say the very least
I could have leavened my load
Your humility, my feast
Instead I kept picking up
The insults that you threw down
Refilling the cup
You would spill on the ground
Hours you must have dedicated
Digging for bones in my closet
You must have left so frustrated
From chomping at the bit
I imagine a jarring epiphany
Leaving empty handed
A truly tearful symphony
Not the way you planned it
Quarreling with a nun
Produced no satisfaction
When your rant was done
You lacked my reaction
Surly you know what I left out
The words to fill in the blanks
The severity of stupidity so very stout
You will walk your plank
Categories:
leavened, anger, class, conflict,
Form:
Free verse
I recall, bringing you home, quite small and cuddly
Bouncing around eyes flashing, ears floppy.
Your passion: chewing all and making mess around
Put your head down as you heard my foot sound.
But were my security guard in my old age
Barking at each of passer-by in rage.
When I had hard days at work, you waited for me
Wagging your tail to say, “Welcome, missed thee”
While I read the newspaper, you hopped on my lap
Asked nothing more than pat your head to tap.
Old age took its toll, unable to stand on your legs
Drove you last time to wet like scrambled egg
As the vet led you away, you turned and looked back
As if to say, “Thanks, for taking care, Jack”
I will always remember you the way you were-
One lovable, huggable pile of fur.
He waits, not playing, sits all alone in heaven
For he knows his master will come leavened
I wait out in the dark and cold for hand of death
He will hear the sound; will bark, at the wreath.
============================================
2-11-13
Dr. Ram Mehta
First Place win
Contest: Elegy Form by Constance
* Laloo is the Indian name of my huggable pile of fur.
Categories:
leavened, animal, miss you,
Form:
Elegy
Here are the tears.
The ones I've denied
the ones I've lied about
over and over and over
the waterfalls
of conformity disguised.
Here are the tears.
The ones reflecting
the bright shiny sunshine
demanding my mouth
match some image
of bright blue eyes
smiling.
Here are the tears.
Six or seven
who goes to heaven
was your bread leavened
or did it have GMOs?
Did that make your toes
craven?
Here are the tears.
Hard to believe so many years
between your fears
and mine.
Hard to fathom, but me and the madam
and the lost man and the rapscalion
surely have something in common.
Categories:
leavened, life,
Form:
Dear sister I have been mistreated but surely not defeated
The fit are unruly and those who rule unfit to wear their minds along their brow
Pitted and fallen are we claimed she
Uproot all the timid, surely they’ll quake
The Earth is at rest while the heavens are testing
Surely the catacombs are our place of hiding
Rapture the worthy, the poor, and the hopeless still more
Braven the brittle and salvage what’s left of the widow’s stores
For we are at war, O’ good women, it’s a fight they will get
A Patriot cry, a life worth living, a pride in my name that keeps me standing
Hearty or meek, we’ll take the keep
Bind them up, but don’t let them bleed for pure bred savages are what we need
The breasts of the mothers who weep for the bodies
The weary who laugh gas portrait tears leaving their insight foggy
The Devil is hunting, Oh but let him flee
For our fists will have him fishing for his faith like rotting bait
Breeding among us are the wolves that seek only to measure their gut
And they will fill the skies 70 meters high with the the must of unfinished feet
Winded by bows of boredom and broiled beliefs
Sifted through, borrowed, unused
The lazy will not lay seated in our ancient sanctuaries
They will lay pitted among the soiled seeds and left to the leeches
Reign in the kingdom of popular knowledge do both snakes and sirens
Danger is beneath us and furnaces over heat us,
Leavened bread will rise our eyes to the souls in need of teachers
If education ain’t free then dare me to teach for free
Let linen and fleece overwhelm us all
For the sun rises still again, constant with the moon
Midnight is foreign and sunlight is gloom
For inside these walls our eyes will close soon
The mirrors outs our flaws and undersea our scars
But heaven is shaking and creation’s worship awaits us
If every day is good and every evening soon
Then tomorrow is only distant, a matter of your zoom
Jupiter is rising further south than my liking
Perhaps it was the wind that blew it there
Or the birds that sang it somewhere upstairs
Or the lions that laughed it underneath body beats
Or the vines carried it to prepare it for more pruning
Signs are timing and the clocks are not ceasing
So listen little one, I know you are bare, but don’t be a fool
Comb your hair.
Categories:
leavened, art, bible, black african
Form:
Ballad
Nature, Nurture all sounds bliss
Disregard, Degrade, noisy people piss
The smell, the patter, just after a rain
The swell, its matters, that cleanses the pain,
It corruptly endures yet progresses some such
Disdain that I weep for its sentient crutch
For drop dead intonation, all things conveyed
A derivitive deep angst over memories depraved
False diplomacy sexcaste endured,
Duplicity for fun, our futures interred
We incorporate, enlist all things believed
To only find later, they can't be retrieved
Like molded leavened bread, by loving hands
I shift life thoughts in that hourglass of sands
Is there an antidote to our sociostupid ills,
Guns, drugs, death, ideaology, OTC pills
In the end take stock of your stoic self BARENESS
Looking glass clarity to your inept self AWARENESS
Who are you really, do you listen to your soul?
When it comes to humactions, submit a resume.
Categories:
leavened, future, imagery, inspirational, philosophy,
Form:
Free verse