Best Mannerism Poems


Premium Member Flamingo Blooms

Written: January 23, 2024
              __________________________________________

Their melodious humming drifts
through the fragrant night air
carrying a sense of tranquility
In this enchanting universe
where dreams come true
A delicate whisper
of silver breeze captivated softly.

Trees are lavishly graced
with azure iridescence
visualize an idyllic scene
that is truly magical
in this hypnotic realm
trees sway softly
as lilts chortle jubilantly
dryads are ecstatic
lullabies spark with
flamboyant emerald
fostering faith
in forfeited souls
lack within intricate
maze of their dwelling
scarlet nests tucked
high on twigs
An oasis of passion
where silence draws.

Lullabies load breeze
with a warm glow of opals
orienting dropped souls
In a mystery of
their abode once again
trees adorned with snugly
hidden crimson nests
a setting of love
where harmony sway
arbors wrapped
with stunning splendor
a vibrant tapestry
of dazzling majesty
their heaving hues herald
heaven with hypnotic hood
In this magical mannerism
musings mantling
In an ephemeral haven
of natural magnificence
dryads whirl and
trees sway peacefully

The winter-worn sky reveals a
faded, shimmering bronze and
gold shade, reminiscent of a
withered vermeil and naiad
fluorescent opals, paired
with scarlet demantoids in
smooth charmeuse enamel
mesmerizing maelstroms
of crystalline bonfire
flamingo flowers fit
with a fiery symphony
akin to the reverberations
of a silken folk melody
on the horizon
they shrink to hypnotic ink
scribbles on violet skyline.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: mannerism, analogy, appreciation, beauty, creation,
Form: Free verse

Tightropes of the Three Graces

"Tightropes of the Three Graces" 

Tightropes
for hanging clothes
on a line 

each piece 
pegged wooden
held between closed fences

misfortune's breeze lifts
sleeves like covers
pointing the way home

books and their pages
for The Davenport dancers 
all's well that ends well 

scene perfect
imperfect fortunes
throughout their ages

the balancing act
seeking Life’s rhyme
saving fates in stages

odd numbers
are never easy,
never graceful 

the balancing acts, 

tightropes 
of the Graces
saving fates in 3 stages

(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
mlb, klb, llb







Édouard Bisson , French Pre-Raphaelite
“Die drei Grazien”, 1899 

Hans Baldung, German Renaissance and Mannerism 
“Three Ages of Man”, 1541 -1544
“Three Graces”, 1539 

Sandro Botticelli, Italian Renaissance 
“The Three Graces”, 1485 - 1487
Categories: mannerism, little sister, love, sister,
Form: Free verse

A Book of Soul For the Heartwarmer

One individual called "she" stepped into the sheets of a life story
Sheets that used to be occupied
She walked back and stopped at a chapter which tell the story of an obsolete chamber
A space which stands for behalf of the memory and wounds

A diorama played by shadow
A story with no beginning nor end
They've been there with decent backgrounds and decent light spectrum but called gray
The view was frozen, the chatter was muted, and that feels fell into the melancholy

Those with the outstretched hands which too high to be reached
Those with the self existence but too blind to be seen 
They abandoned as a figure of reserves without knowing the essence of a solace

And that individual creature went on her way back to the labyrinth of time

This time someone seized by the story of a root baste
Those roots were heart in shape and the hue carved a warmth, but once howled a bitterness
This chapter tells the story of a lush tree with the fruit of love
Fruits that contain the complexity of love, passion and a place to berth

And the fruit of love revealed its story to someone

Those who hide behind their false mannerism had carved their name on her shoulder
Those who have offered their hearts and bent on their knees 
Those who play fire in a lust, fell into a seek
But the love that she wants still unable to cover the part of this story

From the fruit of love to the sheet's of light

This chapter tells the story of an old house with extensive bed of flowers
This house represented the aesthetics, peace and harmony
A house which brings relief, spaciousness and joy
In that house she knelt, release all her mess
To the house the journey was anchored

In every sketches that have been through
None could live without the presence of others too

Obsolete chamber, lush love tree, beautiful bed flowered old house
Those who were involved in each story of the bulkhead of life
Those who were crawling along and came from different angles of infinity
Those who were instantly filled the pieces of shoot and became the shoot

They are the perfect gift for the imperfect souls
Not as a complement nor as a reserves
Yet as the major part of the heartwarming life story
Categories: mannerism, life, thank you, uplifting,
Form: Prose Poetry

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Mirror of Memories

The world can be a scary place
when you can't recognize your face.
And though I stare at a mirror,
it never gets any clearer.

I see a man who looks like me,
yet at the same time, he can't be.
And I search his face for a clue;
a quirky mannerism might do.

His frightened eyes stare into mine;
and a cold chill runs up my spine.
Behind that scared Alzheimer's stare,
I don't know this man standing there.

A blank page in an empty book;
I get confused the more I look.
For, though I feel we've met before,
I don't recall him anymore.

A memory triggers a thought;
yet it quickly fades on the spot.
And I must accept he is me;
though a stranger is all I see.
Categories: mannerism, confusion, emotions, fear, feelings,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Mythical Performance

Playing music of magical mythological sound
As if meditating to mesmerize those around,
Lion and tiger bow down being spellbound,
Legendary painting depicts myths profound.

Hands hold the lyre, strings echo the singer,
Mythical lyrics reverberate and aurally linger.
Shoulder muscles restrain his leaning stance,
Animals hypnotized, intently stare in trance.

Silent posture manifests solitude in his eyes,
Naked features divulge feelings they surmise.
Mystical potent image seeks union with God,
Intellectual persona leaves everyone awed.

He could tame the beasts and calm the rivers,
He could charm a snake without any shivers,
Guide and write of artistic human endeavors,
Create and sing musical themes lasting forever.

His bold naked appearance may reveal a strife,
A delicate mannerism makes it abundantly rife.
Engrossed in quest of music he perfected lyre,
Rhythm and lyrics conspired to artfully inspire.

Look beyond curiously to unveil the mortal,
Greek myths venerate him like an immortal.
A poet, musician, and a wizard of distinction,
Small group of doubters caused his extinction.

First Place
October 9, 2017
Painting: Orpheus by Franz Stuck
Poems that paint a picture 4
Sponsor: Silent One
Categories: mannerism, art, music, myth,
Form: Quatrain

Christmas Without Mom

To eulogize your life when we have spent so many years apart
 gives me comfort and memories of your precious passed life
 
 You speak to me in my dreams and share images of a castle by the stream
 it's walls shine of elegance a beauty of luster gold for your soul it now holds

 My Mother, you are now a jewel of heaven, a gem in God's crown
 as his loving arms hold you and his angels wings wrap around.

 I know you sit in the room of hearts and some day you will take me in your arms,
 while the angels play their harps like the soft swaying sound of a violin my soul 
 will then depart.

 As I stroll to the waters edge of sadness and my reflection is looking back
 I see my mothers wonderful smile our characteristics and mannerism
 you blessed me as a child.

 Tonight I will sleep and you will whisper in my ear all the stories 
 from the day that I was born, taking away my sadness and
 giving me comfort to help me not to mourn. 

 So on Christmas morn when I awake from my dream that we shared
 I will not see the lights from my Christmas tree
 only the glow from the angel who has given me a life and a soul that is free.

 T Reams 12/3/15      I miss you Mom
Categories: mannerism, beautiful, blessing, inspiration, life,
Form: Elegy


He Is Music,Music Is Him

Confidence,a radiant aura that defines him 
Even whilst holding dear Jes playing a tune on a whim 
It exudes and transcends his playing flaws until- 
All you can hear turns symphonic like Beethoven 
And his candidness,with each string,becomes proven 

Laudable,is his love and passion for music 
A true love of a jealous kind covering up like a tunic 
Rare as a four leaf clover,a gift from God that makes- 
The sound of his voice melt any frozen heart 
And bring harmony and laughter to a world torn apart 

Illustrious,like the great Achilles born to Thetis and Peleus 
His percussive skills reflect the nature of his muse 
Bringing unique blends of sound to greats like Hamilton- 
Even Lira and Victor can testify to his idiosyncrasy 
That which makes his sound distinguished and classy 

Fastidious,a trait that echoes in his work and mannerism 
'By the blood' is evidently a show of this perfectionism 
Though he carries his talent in a humble manner- 
He expresses himself with great felicity 
Not forgetting that grand touch of simplicity 

Fearless,he valiantly navigates his gift in a foreign land 
Grabbing opportunities whilst gaining the upper hand 
Though fearsome he may be when faced with commitment- 
Love abides in him,he strives to achieve the dream 
Knowing within that he is music,and music is him...
Categories: mannerism, dedication, music, sound, love,
Form: Cinquain

Job Interview

Going For A Job Interview

The moment of truth comes, when one comes face to face with a prospective boss…
Having secured an appointed date for interview, it is time to meet the boss…

This learned  young man is well prepared  in his spirits, mind and body…
For this day is the much  anticipated date to define his immediate  destiny…

Freshly minted and on the lookout for a dream job offer in his field of studies…
His hopes are high,  with a gamut of feelings of trepidation, anticipation and  anxiety …

Getting a job is a typical priority for many  a graduate after years of books and studies..
But the process of looking around for  a dream job and landing it is far from easy…

For a wholesome  week, this day has been crowding into his daily thoughts and routine….
Over and over again he has mentally run through his  expected replies to incoming queries..

Will this window of opportunity be in the right one for a youthful graduate  such as he…
Will his mannerism, answers and personality be up to the  expectations of the boss to be…

He is well dressed for the occasion, most appropriate for the formality of the occasion…
Textbooked details are well in place, looking sharp with not a hair or attire was out of place…

His newly bought tie is snuggly attached to his high collar, well he looks like an executive-to-be…
Looking smart and most presentable, document folder in his hand, he’s well and ready….

Grabbing the car keys , he gave a perfunctory goodbye wave as he strode to the family car …
With fingers crossed, the father wished  him the best of luck and whispered a silent prayer ….

There you go, son, you have to make your own way, may God bless you at the interview…
Have faith in yourself, you are well prepared and you are at your best as you can possibly be…

Waving goodbye and with a big smile of encouragement, he watched junior  drive away…
Stiffling the rising inner glow of pride that that young man is now big  enough to seek his way… 

The next few hours will be crucial, will the outcome of his  job interview be successful….
Will the call yet to come be one of jubilation or will it be one of deflated enthusiasm…?
Categories: mannerism, anxiety, career, emotions, father
Form: Light Verse

Halloween Haiku

<                                      amidst swollen moon
                                 creatures of the night stalking .....
                                          predator's bounty



                                          be ~ witching ~ hour
                                     beastly  mannerism   gone
                                          totally but .... wild



                                          black cat crosses path
                                          another seven years of ........
                                          having such bad luck



                                              culdron pot boils
                               hearts ~ gizzards ~ livers ... bat's hair 
                                          witches stilled brewing
Categories: mannerism, adventure, childhood, fantasy, children,
Form: Haiku

A Mother Ears What She Hears

She hears it with her eyes and ears, you see it in her smile;
She hears it in the smell and say...Oh you cook so well.
And when she looks into your room;
She hears how well you use the broom.
Clean refrigerator, stove and sink, she hears,
Janitor no...Technical Cleaning Engineer.
You spell and speak well, she watches your mannerism,
But she hears that you will be in journalism.
The friends you acquire and the company you keep;
She hears that you will be the one to give the inaugural speech.
She watches how you dress and pay close attention to detail,
She hears that you will be a fashion designer or into Retail.
The way you manage money and sparingly likes to spend,
She hears banker, stock broker, not a borrower but one who will lend.
She sees you interact with other family members
She hears social worker, caretaker or counselor.
Her ears hear so many things because of what you do;
She hears it with her eyes and ears, you see it in her smile,
And you know that she approves.
Categories: mannerism, encouraging, mother, success,
Form: Rhyme

What If I Kissed You

A kiss, a kiss was all I asked for, symbolizing my undying admiration of you as a whole, tainting your lips with ones that have whispered sweet nothings to your ears, ears that I made stand on their toes for the unexpected, becoming more apprehensive, but so much has happened in the past few days, if there's one thing love's taught me, it's that kisses tell a million tales. What if I kissed you right now?.. would it bring us any closer or would we just part like the red sea, would our worlds as is hereafter speak of nothing but the good and our love grow to be as unexplainable as she.. what if I kissed you.. affections expressed in a moment where pet names linger across lips unrelenting. Eyes meet and faces draw together while our minds orbit elliptical periods around one another, deem it a solar system, stop the music like i stole ya rhythm &say we lost ourselves in the heat of our own passion, passing days by enveloped inside ourselves slow dancing to the beat of our hearts. Holding you close like I'd die letting you go, thinking, what if I kissed you right now... Could we make clocks stop till judgment day and be lovers in and out of time like Angelou stated, would be morph to the brink of combustion just being overwhelmed by each others touch, or would we just be? Never afraid of lions tigers and bears, but I cant help but fear becoming so sick, so sick of love sons turned penetrating enomolies like your kisses which obtained keepsake as a copious mannerism in my everyday agenda.. &writing this while you're asleep gives me all the comfort of a fourth wall closure, kissing your forehead as you lay on my shoulder thinking if only i'd done that while you were awake. but she&I were unceasing, so the kisses we'd share were even more memorable than Victoria's best kept secrets...
Categories: mannerism, art, hope, husband, love,
Form: Prose Poetry

Decastich-Anger Is the Curse of the Unforgiven

The deliberate hurt is
a wound never healing,
forgiveness may be granted
to that soul expiring;
and as the trembling lips  
close, serenity descends.
To have loved such a person
would have been wrong, not smart;
nothing honorable and pleasant
came out of that foul mouth.
Some realize the demonic force
that was behind it to cause animosity
towards the kindest of hearts;
then is anger the curse of the unforgiven,
not to fully and sincerely apologize?
It's wiser to bear offense than to offend,
so that the guilt is not concealed inside,
but open to unfair criticism
rather than visual humanism;
and would one cope with implausibility? 
Along our path, we may see roses...
smell their aroma and cherish their loveliness,
but beneath them there are many thorns
ready to poke those who rush judgment;
and they will bleed for not having been cautious,
or at least avoided the useless torment!
I have bled in my utter blindness,
putting everything at risk, sparing no mercy
for a quest to uphold my integrity
by being too complacent, and not showing kindness.  
And ignoring that anger is the curse of the unforgiven,
I beat hard on my chest to feel the acute pain...
remembering the hostile voice putting me down;
embarrassing me of such a vulgar mannerism,
making me despise and hate any exhibited egotism!
The longest time has passed to shorten the brevity of compassion,
to make me aware that to have none is a denial of self!
Weep and mourn for shutting all doors on fairness, cruel soul;
sleep not, for remorse is a plague inflicted upon the unmerciful
who see themselves less useful than those discerning death!     


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
Categories: mannerism, anger, may, me, integrity,
Form: Verse

The Incapacity That Can Shape a Shattered Heart

Every life has courage
Every life can see the light
Every life can see the truth 
Every life is a priceless piece

Every day can be trailblazing
Everyday dialect has an exact mannerism
Every day has clues that suggest steadiness 
Every day has prolific languages 

Everything brought you here
Everything implies you still have a chance
Everything from the yesteryear breathes inside you
Everything is an avocation that you exist 

Every second entails presumptions centered on phenomena’s
Every second of apprehension can encumber the last
Every second devours time
Every second gave you a venture to be here now

Every one of us desires permanency
Every one of us strains to attain 
Every one of us has distinctions
Every one of us has a speech
Every one of us can generate a spark


Every Life
Every Day
Everything 
Every Second
Everyone Of Us 
Can Make a Difference
Categories: mannerism, courage, dedication, depression, devotion,
Form: Light Verse

The Renaissance

Tell all the worlds about the treasures found
Renaissance trace spellbound in the ancient form,
Tender and haunting; an era of time curves around
Past the present to a future beset with tech charm.

Historical pages cling romantically to our eyes,
Each epoch defines a sparkling gem of surprise,
Their fluttered rebirth is like stars changing sizes
Release by time flown from the damp demise.

That dip their limbs to bow unto gloss modernity
Like the artist and sculpture, they paint a world.
Of aesthetic peculiarities and lofty discovery,
Longing to find a place soaring free in the soul.

A vault of citadels says much; then said no more
Deep within, ancient wonders rise from the ashes
Talented beauty weaves from centuries we adore, 
The time and place asleep in a waste wilderness.

The plague of colors survives in medieval triumph,
England, a literary monument of architect literature.
Finds the noble heart to express cherished breath
Creating the etiquette claimed by French culture.
 
Such dept alone could not be paid by metamorphism 
Humanism fading in a mist has its place in society, 
Heightened with extreme lust and erotic mannerism,
Italy removes the conscious veil from bizarre reality.

Ceiling significant through music strings serenade,
Renaissance dazed; allusion lay dreaming half awake
The inquisition of fate went on pilgrimage made,
German sentence commute through the classical gate.
 
The Netherlands explore and navigate all the distances
Byzantine adherence goes beyond impregnable walls,
depict faces of the Tsars persist in the military hypothesis,
And labyrinths take refuge in Russian banqueting halls.

The richest measured proportion of distilled beverage,
Vodka values more than all the dull limited senses,
Spanish religion repository of the myths and rage
Set the path where new western experience commences.
 
Portugal selfie, the pinnacle piece that thirsts for commerce
Lisbon flourished paints and medicines with Flemish.
Poland concept and conflict gain border land dominance,
Spice trade rises high and makes indiscreet allusion flourish.

We travel far beyond renaissance to the greatest monument,
When the transition of culture from the middle age evolved
Mesmerized art is a rediscovery of an enduring cultural movement,
The monarch of the Roman Empire renaissance man inspired.
Categories: mannerism, art, birth, culture, england,
Form: Elegy

Spring

Spring 
                                                          
The season of green
As hypnotizing as painted optimism.
The mother of all other seasons with delightful sheen.
You bloom as symphonious as teacherly mannerism.

The season of charming foliage
Invites hummingbirds that might cut the petals or weave nests on you with diligence
Or bees might dance musically at such an elevation of footage.
You stand to me elegantly with my teacher’s patience.

The season of hope and flies
Ornamented by the evanescent rays of an orange sun.
And who that socks in the confetti of rain like Pluviophiles
You open my mind and take to that cradle of a learning barn.

The season of shape and symbol.
I can visualise divine curves-
The epitome of the sagacity of renewal
You help me picture of my teachers’ drives.
Categories: mannerism, environment,
Form: Ode
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