Best Phlegmatic Poems
Purposeful thought leaders, empowering intellect they reign,
In disposition phlegmatic, indifferent to pleasure or pain,
Rejecting emotions vain, impassive within taciturn domain,
Questing for mindful contentment, virtues of reason ordain.
Missives tolling of rectitude, emanate from heart and mind,
Guiding sanctity of awareness, wisdom virtuous aligned,
Maximizing positive thoughts, amplifying tendencies kind,
Of knowledge and understanding, spirits tranquil designed.
Freeing from distress, achieving balance in purity sublime,
Reverberating in noble song of life, echoing through time,
Strumming happiness, where refrain of reason is prime,
Where goodwill of speech, and actions benevolent rhyme.
Enlightened people find harmony in realms of self-control
Overcoming disturbances that in silhouettes of past troll,
Vying aspirations of tomorrow, enamored in sanctity of soul,
Consciously shedding negativity, passions imprudent extol.
Volatility of perturbed life calms, embracing thoughts divine,
As sapient ways of erudite mind, on arc of cognition shine,
Triumphing over negative vibes as dissonant distractions decline
When goals of reason and acts of virtue inextricably entwine.
The world is spinning
and you refuse to fall off.
Yesterday,
you stabbed a crooked finger
into my hidden diary
criticized my Fascist inflections -
debated my scribblings
on Marxism,
noted the notations
indicating Munchausen by Proxy
and then
choked and lamented
upon vague references I made
concerning Virginia Woolf,
Sylvia Plath,
Anne Sexton,
Cruella De Vil
and Hitler.
You literally littered through
my private Pandora’s box
of personal prose and poetry -
with an unbridled
crazed compulsion
and without my
permissible permission.
Pointing to bold typed words,
such as “ebony”
and “vacuous”
and “sociopath”
and the one
you couldn’t evenly pronounce –
“phlegmatic.”
You stomped your hot heavy hooves -
screaming with the dire urgency
of a rape victim:
“What the hell are you talking about?”
It didn’t take very long before
I simply shrugged,
slugged the remaining remains
of my Rolling Rock,
took your index finger
guided it across
your ratted sweater
and placed it
upon your
hopeless,
hapless
heart.
"CHILD LABOUR "
Please do me a favour ,
Ruin the acts of child labour;
Soft hands which have to take pencil,
You classify them under worker's council;
Let's pump the education in mind,
Train them to innovate ideas they need to find;
Everyone once go grocery shop,
Somewhere any kid working under official top;
Nourishment is the first step to proceed,
Working a child one should better retreat;
Don't make them the mode of money,
Young minds like bear, fetching knowledge as honey;
Working age men are completely in glut,
Child doing the same is simply absurd;
Bring a sweet smile on lovely face,
A smile which has an everlasting trace;
They also have dreams which aren't fake,
Let them transform into reality they make;
Outburst the perspicacity in every kid,
Child labour is a crucial issue one has to get rid;
Youths are the forerunners of the country,
We commit crime making them work in sultry;
Worse gets when any child is infected,
You get annoyed if productivity is affected;
We know how good our jurisdiction,
Corruption everywhere as bad addiction;
Shape a better future for the nation,
Make this disease result into termination;
Abuses coming from their heart's shore,
Convert this to blessing by changing course;
We can't earn respect on such huge cost,
Let's melt the ice which got frost;
It is an epidemic malfunction running everywhere,
Some of us making it chronic,be aware;
We are strong,we can't surrender,
Egregious error infront of us,it's ocular;
Why we are becoming phlegmatic?
Change we need,change should be drastic;
Wash every single pain from sweet hearts,
We have to stop this, we have to guard.
Prevarication permits pretend perception, presenting
piquantly piqued, pimply pimping playboy, plucky
pulchritudinous previously pusillanimous, prevalently
puckish, psychic packman, pokemon playing proletarian
puppeteer pygmy, peevishly punky, plummy, plumy,
pompously pushy, pampered, prefabricated pinchbeck,
pokily plying plowshear, plodding peregrination, pied
piper pitifully peppy pornographic potato pealing,
parsimonious paradoxical protagonist, proposing
preposterous panicky pacification plots, prioritization
pertinent penultimate peroration, perhaps perceiving
perjuring, perplexing, perverting puzzling pronouncements
projecting pulsating pixelated pulpy pinball pinging
packets prompting pacific, poetic, phlegmatic purplish
psoriasis plagued, plumbum pallor pallid, Paleolithic
protuberance pronounced, psychosomatic prohibitionist,
polarizing perfunctory peculiarly progressive, patriotic
postmodern pathologically proud paternal panache,
peripatetic panaceas portraying prescient perfidious
puerile president, predominantly proposing parochial
principles, plenty public parking, purposefully
promoting pharisee phalanxes, pilates practicing
paragons, perennially peaceably proficient protesters,
profitable polygamy, pugnacious pitbull powerball
players, pandering polyandry, propagating professional
palindrome pensive peeping people, peddling,
proselytizing predicating prostitution, proliferating
phenomenally, populist persona promulgated peyote
phased physicians pioneering prescription promoting
paradisiacal pricey photographic pictures, placating
phrenetic physical perturbation partaking place
purchased (paid paltry pennies) por palatial piazza.
Tell me again
This wealth you gasp and clamour for
This strategy you wield
From the invincible substratum
Where the hunt pursues the frenzied heart
And the congestive traffic of arteriosclerosis
For what do you deal
The long evenings swinging on the green and
The soul's sanity again?
I have checked for definitions
One say it is production from the land
And I hear in it engines
Ripping out the earth's red heart
Another say it is a product of labour
And I imagine a weary mother
And the pains of dystocia
Besides you own no land
Where concrete does not mushroom
Into skyscrapers
And dirt abominable in the atmosphere
And I guess labor is not physical.
Some say it is a measure of value
Of what you own
Was that the members of my body
For I pay tax for
Is a mere rental, not mine.
Easement only entitles me
To brown paper bags blowing in the gust
And the oily wrap of hamburger papers
I never bought them
They just fell where I bare the cost without the benefits.
Men who own revenue are rich
You say it is policy
That the labourers clock in at eight
I say its power
That make men to make wealth
They give away for the pittance of wage
All morning I have watched them
As they check their assets of grief
Before getting to security at the gate
Grief is suspicious you know
Only terrorists have grievances.
We bring our last resolve to work
The heart like a derrick
Grappling with the weight in the sky.
It is all your wealth
His mother phlegmatic coughing
And asbestos dust
Thickening on the lip of the child
I have no love for the Midas disease
For still its free
The open air
The sun cracking nuts in a tree
And the wild shout of cataract
And below me the immense gorge
Where the water trickles
Under the dam
Irrevocably to the sea.
yeah, i went in
and i picked up a novel and took it to the counter
she said, "oooh, i do like this one. so heartbreaking and inescapable.
it's about being dislocated from friends and numbing routine and desire."
i said, "it's not for me, it's for my mate, bill."
the bloke behind the counter came over and whispered to me,
"before death, i will be recognised
as an expert fencer. all we have left is fantasy or the examination of the self."
his name badge read 'peter'
he had the phlegmatic charm of a proto-slacker
he handed me the receipt and
i ate it in front of him
Unfaithful marital transgressions
self admitted indictment,
crime and punishment,
no longer think high lee
entailing no mister re: demeanors,
I searingly weathered
(George by bushed, albeit thankfully,
no unwanted child left behind),
nonetheless one unforgettable
indelible, execrable, and abominable
professedly owned his
civil warring battle of life
transgressions undeservedly heaped
(Uriah hit about that)
(carnal feral hormonally seething
gone astray nightwalks)
woven by basket of deplorable
emotionally painful selfish object lesson
forever etched upon mine psyche
(left by one bobbing sponge -
cheeses crust station of his life
within sea of human life now
affixes moniker re: mister crabs)
inflicted courtesy yours truly
said marital indiscretion (philandering)
one among many issues discussed,
during treatment plan earlier today
February eighteenth 2020
concerning complex edifice
regarding mein kampf
existential bleak house
(figuratively crowded cheek to jowl)
with and hard times
fraught with many
unattained great expectations
unwittingly accepts psychological fallout
(among kissing kith and kin,
a shellfish chicken and hen thing for sure),
despite years elapsed ex post facto
deploying, incorporating, narrating, signifying...
narcissistic, opportunistic, and phlegmatic
self incriminating doom
visualize deus ex machina
betrayal rendered adopted smugness
invariably set in motion domino effect,
whereby emotional alienation
devastation, humiliation, maturation, suppuration
(yoking impossible mission
to shuck off penitence, the price to pay),
thus rightfully, truthfully, and veritably...
ably, readily, and willingly
allowing, enabling, and providing
incomplete resolution, (hence iresolution)
thwarting rancor thy deux daughters
(livingsocial many time zones distant)
embark quest to guide their own
metaphorical maiden voyaging ships of state
countless transpired hours
at counseling facility, where poetic papa
aired and mulled over bothersome
anguish to complete requisite treatment plan
to receive psychiatric appointment
next (and last) Tuesday of February 2020.
"We ourselves feel that what we are doing is just a drop in the ocean. But the ocean would be less because of that missing drop". Mother Teresa
Moonlight shimmers on the phlegmatic ocean.
Creating a whimsical billow of prose.
On the zenith of the print's folds, as spoken.
The carol "Induces Sleep" by Seas' Compose
With a sweep of waves, echoing your passion.
Gloom made him unwise; life was a growing rose.
Red-colored ripples amidst the white-blue foam
The moments are short, and my love is now home.
Seeing the crest of crimson sunset ripple
The azure ocean disappears after night.
And each time I get adjacent, I whistle.
It's a cool way, yet tough in a high stake fight.
Earth is waning, and all are growing little.
I can't cross the lines, and wait for morning light.
Body, blood, and anguish are racing on board.
Rainbow prism waves tendril moist to kiss the chord.
Checked by: HMS.COM/ 11 syllables per line--Rhyme; abababcc-dededeff
Written: March 24, 2023
1st place contest winner
Writing Challenge - 'O' Words Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
When the 21st century stepped into its third decade, the major tone of the world sharply switched. Internecine confrontation, cartelism and calumniation snaffled the high pitch, while comprehension, cooperation and cosmopolitanism, like ill-adapting burdens and nuisances, are inexorably pitched out of the era's finickier and finickier register.
The last 4 years, principally accountable for the bend toward such trend, has a clear pattern.
Since the moment that pussy-grabber grabbed the oval office through foreign fix, everything seemed to have been predetermined.
Needless to argue: just as a train steering along its normal route suddenly swerved into an appalling aberration under multiple symptoms of systematic failure, poped up a chain of bizzare behaviors: a row of willful withdrawals from multiple international organizations and treaties, barefaced dunning over allies for protection fees, capricious veer of trade vanes highlighting haphasard jitters of tariff rates toward countries of utterly different natures and qualities, pussyfooting pace toward putin and patronizing pose before pals as well as other unpredictable hitches and glitches in the making and implementation of policies or even nondescript whimsical whistles that had perplexed many politicians, publicists and observers who believe U.S to have relapsed into isolationism, that is, paying more attentions to or becoming exclusively occupied in its own business with less or without interventions or concerns upon external matters. Many uttered criticism over this phlegmatic position, pointing out it was the isolationism that had connived at the fascist aggrandizement and caused the inadequacy of vigilance in the pearl harbor incident before it finally gave way to requisite engagement. But I have to say the wording of isolationism is simply unfitting nowadays. One can prove this by drawing a comparison between the degree of globalization of recent times and that before world war 2. As we take a glimpse back to the period around 1940, we can find that oversea entities and links were relatively meagre and the corresponding influence and leverage upon other countries relatively negligible. At that time, pursuing isolationism was more or less of a certain venial aspect.
I'm a half-century's old big girl
a big, fat mature, grown-up girl
in many shy quite, quiet ways
a prolific foot traveler by way of tennis shoes
and hot and cold determination
but on this day of our Lord's
may seventh Twenty Seventeen
leaving your long gated
very public city vehicle
I presided to say
Thank you with a very
well intentioned verbal faze
but contemptuous words
re-spouted back to me
as to mock some kind of warning to me
as if I haven't received many already
why, give me more grief and distress
when i am so poverty-stricken without
harmony of mutual justice
and your pockets are full with
phlegmatic abuses
worry no more
for no one perceives' me
and I am of no importance
due to paramount's of low social ranking
Elements of life
Many positive elements
that we need to inculcate,
Since power of traits
defines a character.
Itself one of four classical elements,
with a mention in Greek philosophy,
Defined as life and death in later occultism,
Hindus call it Mother Earth,
that nurtures and sustains.
Growing and breathing
beaming in sun,
Inherently neutral,
Nature sanguine, choleric,
Phlegmatic or melancholic,
Create immense power
with union of fire and water.
Can we soar towards
that longing
for light after death,
If we keep untransformed
negativity alive ?
Can we lose to
spiritual consciousness,
and remain unaware
of the Union of elements ?
Written March 15th, 2016
For contest by Brian Davey
Gods of glowing neon and gaudy screens
smile upon charming, charming patterns of heads.
All colors of hair, lit red, then green, then blue,
guided along invisible paths, crown heads
perspiring, chanting and glancing down
on marching, mechanical arms, then worrying
as they scurry along infinite, crisscrossing paths -
at once so ordered and so unfathomably chaotic.
Drums are rolled by hurrying feet
dictating the race of mankind.
A metropolis looms, adorned by a billion shimmering jewels -
electric jewels - and an apparition sways over the
bustle, silently watching, silently floating.
Giant chutes proudly puff out plumes of nightly black
and devils forged in impure fire do rise
to the heavens above, graced by the blessings of
the industrial revolution, in turn blessing humanity with progress,
imperceptible except as phlegmatic gasps
and the whiff of crisp green paper, distinguished by
wizened faces and packed in neat bundles.
Bulbous, aged fingers do trace from within
the sanctum sanctorum of a temple aged a thousand years,
charming, charming patterns of jewels
in intricate, frozen dance, carving out hexagons of perfect symmetry
from wearily cut marble windowsills.
The work of a thousand splendid hands
preserved by the unseen, dusty hands of time
did render the mosque palatial, its beauty heavenly.
The admiring eyes sing hymns praising the architecture, alas
they are blind, for the marble, white as angelic wings, is grey now.
The scientist appears, eyes hidden by thick glassy cubicles
yet shining through, lit by the endless pursuit of knowledge
and equally burdened by numbers, figures, notes
and the maddening myopia of man.
On the screen appears, against fresh white
charming, charming patterns of red, green and blue
sinking downward, worryingly as it would seem,
his uninflected pleas let in through one ear, instantly
shunted out through the next by the populace, to whom
the music of modernity rings sweeter.
First Place, Charming Patterns Poetry Contest
Date: 16th October 2021
2. "over the waters blue the night winds sigh, the breakers roar ... Samual Taylor Coleridge
Wailing wind amid strongest ocean storm
Night falls swiftly on tumultuous scene
Sailors aware for they have been well-warned
This is their reality not a dream.
Through long hours before sun ordains to rise
Neptune's wrath bombards with no sign of grace
Mariners strong, elements they defy
Lighthouse aids battle and fear is erased.
As ocean's tantrum slowly does abate
Sunrise breaks through the darkest of dark night
Yet, sailors' love of ocean 'tis innate
Phlegmatic, fearless men removed from fright.
i've always believed that love lost is unpleasant,
painful as little as a lachrymal biopsy,
and as much as an emotional disembowelment
or lobotomy of the heart.
i am told that a love who walks out or finds love,
initiates a season of mourning and pain.
tears.
fears.
loneliness.
isolation.
abandonment.
uncertainty.
depression.
forsaken.
unlovely.
unwanted.
betrayed.
damn.
but, what if, just what if love lost is wisdom gained?
what if abandonment was the necessary path to faith?
or uncertainty the road to confidence?
should i have regrets about the past?
should i doubt that all things are predestined?
and should i lament providence through pain?
all for a purpose,
i have no regrets.
if i must suffer betrayal, loneliness, and love lost
to vividly and fully taste the rich and textured beauty of life,
and if i must endure betrayed affection,
in order to understand having it,
then may i lose love, time and again;
i choose to frolic and freely swim in the tides of depletion,
i submit to its tornadic and hurricanic winds;
and i yield to its tsunamic waves.
letting go of loss.
the winds carry its despair.
the waves swallow its torment.
to wash and rain cupid upon fertile hearts.
love lost is inoculation for my soul,
it bleeds,
it wounds,
it swells.
but averts phlegmatic infections and rigor mortis de la coeur.
so love lost becomes gain,
and gain loves again.
I dreamt a dream that you weren't there
I figured in some little ways
a rattle of emotions giving us a stare,
A sting of faded love comes back to life
Everything else is drenched
in the world of disguise,
Our hands interlocked so tight
Never thought would take me to a never ending plight
Somewhere replenishes the vows so bright
Like a sierra its black & white,
You, now, display a phlegmatic disposition
Hailing from an unrecited illusion
Traveling through a different era
Like an intrusion of aghasted air in the sacred arena,
Raveled up in the charms of earthly possessions
Swagger along with panache & indiscretion
Only a spur of moment
And realize I was never an obsession,
I wake up with a frozen frown
As if the most revered bond has drowned
Now, there is a rancour between the reality and living hope
I dreamt a nightmare difficult to cope
Collapsed are the souls, together WE are no more....!!!