Best Panoply Poems
With hair ablaze
a jester unconfined.
I scoffed at the mundane
its life declined.
My wardrobe
a riot
a rhapsody bold.
Mismatched socks my standard
stories untold.
In classrooms of tedium
rules I'd defy
Grasping forbidden knowledge
'neath watchful sky.
Craving for wisdom in
esoteric wells.
Chased squirrels with saws
casting fanciful spells!
Detentions for antics
the school's icy stare
Derided in classrooms
a spirit too rare.
Math teacher's scorn
a job painting lines foretold.
I retorted, "How much does it pay?"
- detention took hold.
Mom asked me why I never brought my girls home?
I chuckled and said, "They're not the type to be shown!"
The wild ones
the rebels
the ones full of flame.
Not the kind for a dinner
not the ones with a name.
Misfits my comrades
a menagerie strange.
United in chaos
defying the change.
Years danced in a blur a pantomime bright
But a disquieting word a sense of not quite right.
A whirlwind of antics a panoply grand
Impromptu escapes with career-shifting sands.
Near-death encounters with fauna
a squirrel, perhaps?
But the thrill
oh the thrill
fueled my madcap laps!
The thrill of the unexpected
a fading strain
A gnawing suspicion
a predictable bane.
The mask I had crafted
of rebellion's grand guise.
Cracked and revealed
the truth in my eyes.
The jester unmasked with a lesson I gained.
That the extraordinary in the ordinary
can be just plain.
No longer I chase the fantastical dream...
But accept the real where
beauty can stream.
For the truest defiance lies not in the fight.
But accepting oneself in the ordinary light.
So here I stand
flaws and all
unashamed.
The laughter remains though the fantasy's tamed.
With lessons in tow I'll mend and I'll mend.
Explore the mundane and find joy till the end.
For the greatest adventure
in life's simple quest...
Is finding the magic
within one's own breast.
A Rainbow’s Magic
A rainbow’s magic reflects God’s majestic and divine touch,
Giving us a panoply of colored images which mean so much.
The wonder of God’s enchanted pictorial missives here on Earth,
Gives us an ethereal pause as we reflect on each rainbow’s birth.
A rainbow is God’s celestial medium of His images to treasure,
To help Man better understand Him and meet His deft measure.
The power of a rainbow is its picture-perfect aura of pulchritude,
Dazzling our visual senses and assuring us of Heaven’s certitude.
A rainbow’s very visage mesmerizes our human senses complete,
And embeds in us all God’s spirited message of His love replete.
A rainbow is a noble and supreme reflection of beauty at its best,
And of shades of heavenly images on Earth meeting God’s behest.
A rainbow’s magic is the power of God’s message to us on Earth,
Subtly preparing Man for his heavenly ascent and his soul’s rebirth.
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved, August 13, 2015
(Rhymed Couplet)
The Pilgrim’s Ghost of a Thousand Heavenly Dreams
Looking through a magical dewdrop we now see an enchanted
Chandelier, liquid-sparkling pure, where a mystical quicksilver
Mirrors a living-moonlight reflection of a thousand radiant stars.
These stars are heavenly focus points that reflect the celestial
Magnificence of Almighty God’s prescient intention, whereby all
Cosmic music forms a clockwork of ticks-tocks of a certain vision.
This vision streams and sounds throughout the cosmos entire on
Star beams with the dimension, power, and force of Almighty God,
Whilst casting a glorious panoply of light that illuminates the darkness.
The reach of God’s eternal light into this deep-dark void of the cosmos
Is known as “The Pilgrim’s Ghost of a Thousand Heavenly Dreams” that
Has an undeniable metaphorical place in mankind’s collective psyche.
This ethereal, eternal ghost by God’s own direction on our mortal Earth,
Allows for mankind’s curious interest in exploring the deepest-darkest
Crevasses of the oceans and the silent sacred secrets of the cosmos itself.
This ethereal, eternal ghost as resident in mankind’s consciousness fuels
Man’s desire, as divinely inspired, to see ourselves as a mirror-image of God
Himself, fulfilling God’s desire that our souls shall ascend one day to Heaven.
Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid – A Collaborated Poem,
Copyright © All Rights Reserved – October 10, 2018 (Tercet)
Autos whizzing by
streetlights and apartment lights cut through the shadows
TV is off - I pick up a pen
Sit down - write another poem
Tomorrow a poetry walk in New York city
Words sometimes leap off the page
Find their way into your inner being
City poets capture the essence of the asphalt homeland
with a well constructed line
There are dangers in this large metropolis
But there is also joy
If you know here to look for it
Drank an egg cream and ate an egg roll today
At a Lower East Side festival
Saw a klezmer band, a Chinese orchestra
and the Peking Opera
What a panoply of cultures here!
The sparkling eyes of a child
catch mine for a moment
We both smile
The years leave their mark on the city streets
and on the inhabitants of this North American Mecca
But this city has a large heart
Sometimes it is difficult to realize that
But at times the soul of New York
reaches out and grabs you
Explains, in urban tones, what it is all about
On Earth's bare bosom, do flowers dream?
A panoply of beauty flitting from flower to flower,
with bees reeling drunk in their ecstasy.
As a flock of vivid white crepes stroll an apricot sky,
chirps of restless cuckoos chuckle in chorus.
In the goodness of this conjured grandeur
enchanted in splendour of their pristine smiles,
do flowers dream, staring up in awe at the sky?
In melody of marigolds, and hedges of honeysuckles,
a sweetheart waits for it's favourite butterfly to return,
wirh fragile wings fanning frills of pink gladiolous.
Perhaps that's when flowers dream.
A Lily of the Valley veiled in heavenly dusk
with purple pansies, and bewitching buttercups,
vanilla orchids in some caramel mellow scent,
satin glossy leaves, showing hyacinths translucent.
Among thousand vignettes of golden glowing topaz
dreams of flowers float, their petals become rain,
only to be pricked in sharp thorns.
a painful truth behind those fairy tales in prose.
specks of red blood adorn their rainbow robes.
Forget me Nots giggling, He loves you Not!
In mystery of allure, dreams are lost.
Date written 11th July 2020
Sponsor Regina McIntosh
Contest Name Nature |
Some say mankind’s a blight upon the Earth
That left alone would be a paradise
But sucks its blood and lays on it a curse
Destined to burn or freeze in waste of ice
Cassandra voices preach in latter days
To craven souls, increasing sad despair
In strange alliance then they focus gaze
On tide of opportune chance to ensnare
Emotions raised from hopelessness to rage
Seduced by siren songs assuring virtue
Awarding promises of guilt assuaged
Enabling dominion, cancel, curfew
But do all men to tyranny conspire
Does nature lone and wild itself admire
**************
Yet there are those perhaps in greater number
With faith, they constitute a wider legion
Then true virtue and goodwill, now in slumber
May be awakened to become a beacon
Unmired in apathy of victimhood
We humans coexist, sister and brother
With all parts of existence, spurred for good
In co-creative hand, one with another
The world we know, we play part in begetting
Perhaps as agents all, of Providence
A diverse panoply conveys our setting
With free choice to make certain its defence
No! tyranny need not unchecked conspire
Our world could prove a backcloth to admire
N/A in contest: ALL YOURS (MAR 14)
bak'ry
sweet panoply
pick a number and wait
anticipation, sal'vation
heaven
ADVENT OF SPRING
It was as though a sign had been received.
The master plan, held back, now caused enaction
As if nature’s endocrines had been released
Flooding our world with catalytic action
Pre-dawn the Song Thrush first perceived the moment
Her triple prelude showed she could recapture
(As day broke, light in a softer glow bestowment)
Her symphony of blissful, careless rapture
On this cosmic stage light rose imparting sheen
And sun lent equinoctial warmth to nourish
The hedgerows that had barely hinted green
Were now transformed to full fresh verdant flourish
In trees the sap is surging in ascension
A delicate jade mist now veils the canopy
Across the land life wakes in each dimension
Sweet Spring is clothing Nature in her full panoply
HIGH TENSION
Horizon to skyline traversing panoply of greenery
High over verdant land they drape an elegant catenary
Stark constructs of geometry stand noble tall and fine
Their mission for the nation to forever hold the line
N ature calls and our attuned hearts gently quiver
E choes across the land harmonized so sweetly resonate
W anderlust a scent we recognize akin to magic in the air
B eguiling youth of spring blessings revealed around each corner
E cologically mastering a symphony of jittery bumblebees and butterflies
G ardens sumptuously await with their panoply of aromas and bouquets
I ntoxicating one and all with april wild perfumes imbued on every breeze
N esting mates parade with glee their loving ways before us
N othing ever will compare to the bustling effervescent bucolic awakenings
I mpromptu meetings where lovers intersect by chance to find romance
N ever doubting the universe is on their side complicit that all the stars align
G randiose the scheming and the interplay of God’s divine cosmic machinery
S easons come and seasons go but spring’s the one that stirs the butterflies in me
AP: Honorable Mention 2021
Submitted on January 22, 2021 for contest NEW BEGINNINGS sponsored by JOHN HAMILTON - RANKED 2ND
ADVENT OF SPRING
It was as though a sign had been received.
The master plan, held back, now causing stirring
As if nature’s endocrines had been released
Flooding all the world with catalytic spurring
Pre-dawn the Song Thrush first perceived the moment
Her triple prelude showed she could recapture
(As day broke, light in softer glow bestowment)
Her first symphony of blissful, careless rapture
On this cosmic stage light rose imparting sheen
And sun lent equinoctial warmth to nourish
The hedgerows that had barely hinted green
Were now transformed to full fresh verdant flourish
A delicate jade mist veils sylvan canopy
Sweet Spring is clothing Nature in full panoply
MY TREE - IT SHALL SURVIVE
Beside the Kinta River still it stands
Colossus of the primal forest panoply
Residing native of the fecund land
It’s limbs supporting graceful arcing canopy
A wondrous teeming aerial village live
It shall survive
A plume of smoke in still cool morning air
Warned of a threat to life of our dear friend
I dragged back fire and damped consuming flames
From perilled home of copious verdant life
Reprieved to face more challenges, and strive
It shall survive
Bearing scars, endured with grace of old patrician
Looking on unchanged, while all around contrive
‘til once more needing care of a passing physician
It shall survive
Each time I pass that way, I muse as I see
With warm complacent notion : ‘That’s my tree!’
13 September 2019
Writing Challenge 2, September 2019 - The Photograph
Sponsor, Dear Heart - Wiishkobi Ode
Grammar Series
SECOND CONDITIONAL
If I were a gambling man as my sin;
(I confess an occasional flutter)
Then if I had an acceptable win,
I would buy myself some new schmutter *
Note: it would make my verse more refined
If instead of "if I..." I wrote "we're I" and "had I"
Then perhaps The Immortal Bard would not mind
And Jane Austin would give me the glad eye
While I may forgive modern language’s slur
Wanting that which is sadly defunct, if
We avoid "if I was", rather say: "if I were"
Mindful that we are using subjunctive
Now the First Conditional suits admonishment
By uncles from Amsterdam, Delft or Utrecht **
While the Third is rueful and penitent
For sins of commission or those of neglect
But the Second tops my panoply
And it always has me beguiled
Inspiring creativity, phantasy
And imagination run wild
E.G.
Had I the combined wit of Wodehouse, and Wilde
I would put my pen to write such a tale
That would make the face of God crack a smile
And the heavens to burst in a giggling gale
Blue, Bluer, Bluest…what’s blue to me?
Far that seems too far; the sky.
Depth that seems too deep; the sea…
Ooh, sorry…it’s only the reflection of the sky on water.
Check on after sunlight…I did; the moon takes its turn;
Darkest of blue of the night casting romance in the air!
How same to my fellow human friend? I wonder.
What? Do my animal friends see blue?
Poor color vision to super color vision…electromagnetic spectrum!
I’ll better leave this to my scientist friends to ponder upon.
Just imagine the world without blue colors…
Oh!...No conflict of conscience….no blue days, please.
Now blue waves, as I doze in a white lap, how you gently rock me.
Romantic ideas flashes in my inner mind...
Well blue eyes, don’t you think I’m right?
Lucky you, lovers drown peering into your magnificence!
Oh!...My eyes try to fathom the sharp teeth beneath the simmering
brine ready to snatch me away from my sanctuary.
Capricious nature, how you entice me with your panoply of blues;
absolute or concrete….I’m just captured!
27/01/17
For contest: The Color blue - Revised old poems too - by Janis Thompson
Judged: 30/01/17- N/A
For Contest Form G or Give me an NA by Broken Wings
Judged 7/02/17 Placed 5
(Dedicated to Folake)
Your eyes, woman
are like twilight rainbow
amorously bearing aloft passions of mine
toward androcytic ecstacy.
They tell of endless lights.
Night skies clarion the warmth of you
keep me balled-up till
i am tilted to your adorned essence.
May I call up words to adore you,
agglomerate them into a panoply of worshippers
unsandalled before you
like Moses at the burning bush.
And now you seem to fall asleep
but you tell me it's the heavy night
bidding toward a sunny dawn
wherein our love is lighted.
Slowly I let you fall asleep
impatient with the long night
waiting to gaze once more
into the eyes of my lovely love.
Then a lip is placed on yours
and you rouse up wide-eyed
smiling at my romantic move.
We enjoyed the night, cruising on.