Best Obstreperous Poems


Premium Member My Lunar Cycle

By the early years of that ancient decade, the 70's,
I'd tired of my obstreperous tomboyish games: 
kickball with the neighbor kids, sledding in the winter, 
desecrating the peacefulness of our street's grave yard 
with our bike races, tag, and hide-n-seek. 
And I tired too of the pastimes of my season preferred: 
chasing siblings with a hose, giggling and gleeful, 
swimming at Weed Park, 
and my perpetual swinging through those long, sweet sunshiny days 
longed for during classes in my school. 

Old friends grew up. 
Boredom anon crept upon the remnant of my childhood. 
At times - through infancy and beyond - 
I'd been beset by a feeling of loss 
over something not yet sought. 
It was something kin to loneliness, but no. . .not that. 
More a sense of gloom - a sorrowing for what? 
I still don't really know. 
Despite the days of inexplicable forlornness, 
I grew more and more cavalier 
throughout the  days that came 
between those odd forlorn days 
because my old timidity, in fact, had waned. . . 

Another face, fairer, appeared. 
It waxed and glowed - assured - 
until those “days - in- between” 
had finally surpassed the melancholy ones. 
I learned to stifle monotony and squelch the blues. 
I became a "doer" of too many things to name 
as I went gliding through with the Gibbous moon. 
Soon enough, a fullness had arrived. 
                              And now it must disseminate. 

In the years to come, I'll be wondering this. . .
Will the shining face I show the world wane too, 
and will my youth's strange darkness re-emerge, 
eclipsing what light remains as I drift, 
having come full-cycle, 
into my final 
                     crescent phase?

5/21/14
Submitted 3/30/16 to PD's Any Poem # 38 Poetry Contest
Categories: obstreperous, life,
Form: Free verse

Lost In a Thought

Lost In a Thought

Who am I...a tossed thought left to ramously rot in a sea of insanity?
What am I...a wondering wave a shackled slave a  crumb of humanity?
Where am I... drowning in a whirlpool a salivating drool of organity?
Why am I...amidst the stars with battle scars in a universe of infinity?

Like a restless rust a defenseless dust futilely falling inside my being
A life unjust a windless gust perpetually lost within thoughts of fleeing
A wounded wreck unknown a depleted drone unadorned and unseeing
A cataclysmal clone in this realm I’m thrown my thoughts are bleeding

Watching the hands of time a mindless mime of the words unspoken
I am an endless evolving enzyme in a parasitic paradigm of the broken
Losing grip of reality a frantic flee adrift within the obstreperous ocean
Lost in a lost a condemned cost of evaporating memories of emotion.




Sept.29.2017
Lost
Sponsored by: Debbie Guzzi
Categories: obstreperous, confusion, loneliness, lost,
Form: Monorhyme

Donald Trump Re Ducks I Goose

Axe the old Don, a trump peter n piper
   of incredulous hellish crud - be gone
ha air brushed pompous ****
   Sunkist in Macy's window 

   then like a jackal hound, he doth run
after public outcry yelps
   for his hide leaving  
   proletarian discord re: pyrrhic victory won.

Donald Duck Trump ™$ - a pompous ass
makes war with his big brass
knuckles and bucket of crass
maligns vis a vis character assassination
   while kissing thing kith

   darting forked tongue sharp as bro kin glass
inciting banal deathly hallowed 
   expletives toward lass
sees – especially Fox Television
   news anchor woman Megyn Kelly
(quite so many ill mannered indiscretions ago)

inducing said personality
   to bear the brunt of brutish mass
of vitriolic n vile insults sacrilegiously 
   maliciously, noxiously, opprobiously 

   incriminating, hellaciously, 
   desecrating opportunistically as hiss oh piss 
so…NO amp pull VOTE of confidence from me
(thus far ohm host halfway to 2020 election 
   toward such a volt char quite rude, snooty
   arrogant simian with sass.

I van (terribly hard pressed) 
   to describe while sitting on me rump
how he oh bomb in lee rages
   gnashing false teeth 
   Wilma backside doth slump
still blasting Democratic nomination 
   (pa hill a reed) as sham –

from special interest bro and sis turn pump
he, the epitome of
   crass bloviation, a malignant lump
whose rants,
   sans presidential outcome a shame 
bullying with his millions beds this,

that and another woman to bareback jump
disseminating gene pool 
   birthing more Quakers
   and additionally doth hump
the mass media as some foolhardy charade

and caricature of a frazzled grump
this arboreal clothed ape erected Taj Mahal
   phallic symbol, where players dump
and gamble away hard earn cash

for his kitty, as if that cachet 
   to grind and bump
lambasting with maniacal
   like "Stormy Dan" yells

   leering oafish ill pout 
   while hair rum 
   (of red follicular) bulls ad hocks
atop his bulbous aerosol sprayed locks
resemble a flock 
   of bronzed sea gulls mocks

heady measly shaped Muppet Ox
dis eased cranial hologram shocks
of a cretaceous, facetious tocks
(sic) exogenous, insidious, and obstreperous vox.
Categories: obstreperous, 12th grade, abuse, anger,
Form: Imagism

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


The Peak

The Peak
Nothing easy in life to achieve 
But only failure is achievable stress less
The road to success is full of obstreperous
I latter discovered that
 End of a war is the beginning of another 
No matter how the hindrance 
Termites built their house 
No matter how obstacles
 They keep destroying their target 
As tall a tree may 
Squirrel pursuit until it reaches the top
Continue doing your worth
Thee will reach the peak
For thee to get thy want
You must be confident 
Shakespeare has became a mirror 
Wole Soyinka symbolize Africa 
They both encounter challenge 
They keep pursuing 
Till their names are shining like a daily sun
and like a rounded moon
Categories: obstreperous, adventure,
Form: Free verse

There Is a Dragon In My Garden

Carefully coiffuring the etiquette garden of the cascading words

Trimming the elegant exuberant plethora of stumbling somnolent leaves

Happened upon an opulent slithering serpent and some bees

Hiding within the myriad of sublime transcendent trees

Shrieking in a shrill voice a cacophony was heard

And the shunned godly creature

Slithered serenely from the place of my obstreperous yells

And the words fell back into a peaceful tranquility and tune

Excusing the moments as serendipitous and absurd

But was harangue for no reason except tales of Slew (Foot)

And went about my business without any further adieu




Copyright
@Bonnie Gay Jennings, or Bonnie Jennings or Boondoggling with Bojenn @Wordpress 2013 to present 2016 ~
Categories: obstreperous, life,
Form: Free verse

I'M Not the Scarecrow You See

My heart still holds the unused beats,
My shallow lungs long the stolen breaths, 
And the bones, cloaked and masked, run empty of flesh.
The eyes that dreamt the dreams,
Are now separated from the sockets,
Like sharply detached staccato tones,
Sinking into lonely depths,
Weaving evaporated future and moments with vacant gaze.
I still stand still like the way they had hung me,
Wearing the same wreath of barbed thorns,
The skull and skeleton fastened in the trellis,
And buried in the sod that holds the blood
The blood of my chest,
That somewhere still runs raw in rivulets.
"Come lay your head on my stretched shoulders.
Listen to my melancholic memories"
I am calling to you, can you perceive?
I'm not the scarecrow you see,
It lassoes my soul. The farmer's soul.
Here I stand still echoing out my torments in mummed shrieks,
The secrets and confessions,
The complots and conspiracies of my spurious sons,
Who killed me softly to meet the hunger of affluence,
In lucid illusion of benevolence.
One day the clouds with swelled wombs will moisten my parched gullet,
The empty spaces below my feet will be nourished,
And the breeze hitting the poincianas around,
Will finally lull me to eternal sleep,
When obstreperous sins will be cleansed,
When justice will be served,
And truth will be harvested at every silence's leap.


 Copyright: 1272017
Categories: obstreperous, betrayal, death, farm, father,
Form: Dramatic Monologue


Premium Member Delight In Wandering

Amid the concrete towers of modern life
some ancient preference in us calls
for sunshine dappled bowers.
There is respite in leafiness,
in tangled vines, obstreperous creepers,
in row, upon nonchalant row,
of fragrant roses.

A butterfly invites our eye
to ramble from monotonies of
daily drudge. 
We hearken back to some
lost paradise -  a game, intent
on restoration of  our addled brains 
We find again,
delight in wandering


Thursday, June 27, 2013
Categories: obstreperous, garden, nature,
Form: Free verse

Thus Ominous and Elliptical Be the Tone of This

Species sundry sentential 
Line the lost lowered loft
Whose weary wayward-ceiled 
Roof raises itself over the lot:
The diverse specimen bottles of pharmaceutic potations,
Mortared and mixed as by the Hawthornean sawbones 
And apothecary, yclept, poetically rendered: "The Quack Haunted." 
(Aye,) Haunted and hunted he was, by that vile old crone, 
Whose life he did not decrease one iota nor span, 
With the ingested application of one of his odious elixirs, 
By the harridan so quaffed. 
Yet, the obstreperous host of the soldierly soldiery of dozens of nations, 
Yclept herein by the appellation, "Plagiarism," they fairly encroach upon 
The tableau naught but ominously.
And thus ominous be also the tone of this, 
Which 'tis my most perfervid and prayerful hope that 
'Tis utterly unclassifiable, unidentified and unidentifiable.
I do not care for the onerousness of being pinned down, 
For living up to the hoary and draconian standards of the vast 
Collect of poetry-of poetries. 
This I will not brook.
(But before I end this ebullient and elliptical encomium, 
I must turn once again to that species of alliterativeness that 
Provided the nutriment for it and me: the "grist for my mill,"
As the archaic idiom has it: )
Therefore, these things
Have henceforth
Come casually 
To their 
End.
Categories: obstreperous, absence, age, america, angst,
Form:

Premium Member Hieronymus Hippopotamus

Hieronymus the Hippopotamus,
Implied at times that he was xylotomous;
Even claiming to be most gregarious.
Real time though, he loved to be autonomous;
Only decidedly not anonymous;
Not to mention being quite hilarious.
Yet no one found him to be synonymous,
Moreover, with the crudely cantankerous;
Unlikely even to be obstreperous.
Some friends on the Nile found him magnanimous.
Categories: obstreperous, animal, funny, humor, silly,
Form: Acrostic

Downfall

Spewing forth contention
All ignorance to compel
Obstreperous yet dastardly
the politicians quell
Negection of poverty
within its own society
Unbalancing the scales of 
a nations sovereignty
Execration of innocence
A new age policy
A xenophobic corpulace
of mass conspiracy
Many masks of one shall bare
the fruits through others gains
Bleeding dry good ethics and
leaving honesty in bane
Replacing it with seething spite
Now a flag bloodstained
Disconsolation through mans indignation
Predictions of plight into subjugation
Resulting in a death of a nation!!!
© Pat Mccoy  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: obstreperous, death, imagination, loss, philosophy,
Form: Rhyme

My Senescent Educator

I chanced on him on my track to school
He was baronial and majestic as ever
Clothed in his outfit and elongated tunic
Clenching in his hand a printed work

The nugatory schoolboy in me promptly surfaced
As I proceeded towards his enclave vacillatingly 
Intuited as if I was going to memorize my recitation
Was seized with an obstreperous panic 

In his impeccable demeanor gently my face tapped
Unbridled my tongue and my odd reluctance unleashed
Stormed: "come on boy I won't your ears pull
Nor your butts with quivering hands spank"

"Spill the beans,voice what your spirit vexes"
This life uttered I diggs in prostrating me 
Mankind's animosity does all over prevail
Besieges our souls and minds assails

He drew a lengthy whistling sigh as if to vindicate 
The diagnosis of a proscribed insurrection
Instead gladden yourself to overhaul yours
And ahead your home with your broom sanitize

As a bonus for his judicious counsel
I offered escorting him to his fount 
And for a while substitute his compliant cane
The road was brimmy with hollows and vehiculer conjested

"I have,asserted he,operated this road for decades 
He has never stabbed me in the back nor beguiled
Subjected his grass,pebbles and panels to slave for me 
Please,reconcile with yours,it is waxing harsher ! "
Categories: obstreperous, memory,
Form: Free verse

A Spate of Cool Temperatures

How refreshing to experience
     a reprieve from sultry weather
when hazy, hot,
     and humid warm front
     unleashes a very short sweaty tether.

Man hat tin dar overcast skies
     hint potential rain on the way
perchance avast dastardly
     flickr ring instagram

     kickstarter linkedin shutterfly
     Taurus headed soundcloud
     skidding across celestial
     (span hushed) rink

     surprising forecasters by yowl
     ling whimsically, unexpectedly oye vay
training (laser like),
     Asian outsize dark cloud

     climatological frontispiece
     randomly making next stop Old
     Rotten Gotham's Greenwich Village
     zero wing in on

     Poor (Chuck Keys) Uruguay
neighborhood possibly confidently
     foretold by meteorologists today
pointing at map showing

     cold air mass as it doth sashay
July twenty first 2018, though
     Mother Nature defies pre
     diction pulling out all (busted) stops,

     vis a vis via "her" quay
zee bag of tricks nay
saying trained forecasters klan
hush all self importance

     also to humble those mere mortals
     getting paid a handsome buck
by anthropomorphizing viz cluck
king in tandem with duck
billed Baritone Horn
     Trumpeting "FAKE" luck

trotting out obstreperous
     Sunny Rays, who doth beam
with radiance a
     diametrically opposed extreme

over zealous call for precipitation
     instead raining one after another quanta
     bright blinding meme
outsmarting the seem

ming airtight (cat in the bag)
prediction leaving once supreme
vouchsafing without a doubt forecasters
     left holding the empty bag
     large enough tuff fit the whole team.
Categories: obstreperous, 11th grade, 12th grade,
Form: Free verse

Soul

the soul

Why should I write about my soul? I don´t know?
If a soul thinks if the entity that vanishes when the body dies
into the air, we breathe like autumnal leaves on trees?
Was Stalin a good soul with a dark mind or a smart mind
He good rid of (killed) the obstreperous officers
In the red army to kill off any dissent, he succeeded.
Or was he simply a dark soul?
My mother thought he looked charming, but she failed.
To see his snake eyes.
I can´t make up my mind about Hitler´s soul, his clownish
The body got in the way.
I don´t think, and there is such thing as a soul it is not
Tangible but we can´t call it an aura, Hitler had an aura.
He liked dogs and sweet cakes when not murdering 
Jews and other miserable, like gay people.
In other words, a soul is a Christian idea that promises 
A life ever hereafter how else could heaven have 
a place to so many people
© Jan Hansen  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: obstreperous, africa, arabic, art,
Form: Blank verse

Out of the Sea

wondrous stuff is happening
awash within a silent bay 
a cell appears, divides 
and life reflected in its mother home,
a tender hydra will eschew its rest
and for a moment
infant man will stand in awe
a billion years beyond

how many oceans, galaxies away
would/could replicate
or yet enhance the theme?
what shapes a final product
sniveling in its own completeness?
and where is that impatient mind
that will not ponder  limits
to a diadem?

what even pushes us to question
what we cannot know?
Is life the ultimate creation--
for we bear within, an innate prejudice
and  then the path of danger when
without is unapproached.

what is it to advance? 
Is there desire to force our own mutation?
or will we lie fallow
letting change progress,
rising with the wind to follow joy?
ignoring metamorphosis beyond?
the choice is entropy.

forsight will always shine
upon a new division
where it lurks
beyond a footprint.
one obstreperous fork
to madden every zealous heart
and closeup looks reveal infinity
within/without
while chaos  is the cause
for celebration.

who or what may limit
man's imagining?
and who will portion out
the better from the best?
it is an awesome choice
and history seduces
with its virtue and its folly.

but we are history as well,
etching our wisdom in encapsulated time,
ignoring deadlines' visionless decrees.
and where but from within
will stir that motivating force
that most of us call god?
           ~
Categories: obstreperous, philosophy, history, life, prejudice,
Form: Free verse

False Pretences

Life is full of surprizes, we are not surprised at all;

to church on a sunny summer morn at Petertide, 

to be shocked that the great and good of the borough

were there for the annual mayor's service, all well and good

except expecting the annual service for that most obstreperous of fishers, 

Peter the coward turned faulty Prince of the Apostles - and his rival-friend  Paul.


What does it matter? Their purpose: to shock the world to save it - then as now.
© Peter Dorr  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: obstreperous, christian,
Form: Free verse
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