Best Pizazz Poems
In depth of woods how autumn dazzles, swirling beauty of ornate décor,
Waltzing with ochre hickory, birch; whirling flaxen moods of sycamore,
Gracing my view upon blazing foothills, where vistas gamboge scroll,
Bedecking maples, swaying rhythms, with fiery red of shimmying knoll.
Zephyrs of west rustle demeanor of black tupelo, fluttering leaves gold,
Glistening burnt orange of sugar maple, revelers in sundown behold,
As remnants of gilded twilight beams, glimmer in purpled afterglow,
Weaving motifs of fall in tapestries idyllic, of blushing eventide aglow.
Autumn’s grandeur glows, as crisp frost gleams, mellowing overcast days,
Where gelid winds shudder trees, foretelling imminent wintry malaise,
Meandering with leaves falling gently; carpeting dyed, chromatic meadows,
As the arena of fall’s resplendent show, shimmers in elongated shadows.
Harvest Moon enamors sights, appealing to fervor of romantic glance,
Enthralled watching dance of stars, attuned to tenor of cosmic expanse,
Gliding over a charming night, wooing souls glued to autumn’s ruby fire,
Flaunting pizazz panoramic~ a farewell of fall-splendor, in cerise attire.
Turning life’s pages of albums, treasured memories rekindle seasons past,
Thankful for the abundance of goodwill~ heavenly blessings destiny cast;
As conversations savor aroma of pumpkin pies; buttery, nutty, apple tarts,
Spending time with family, friends; exchanging missives of kindred hearts.
The look of pity on the saleswoman's face said it all
my paint spattered clothing, however the jeans fit
just didn't have that panache, chic pizazz, tongue hanging
inspiration for desire a young woman out to have.
The car dealer took one look at me, led me to the far
corner of the lot, showed me the used hot rods
the beater four doors, the budget cutters like I'd rode
but I wanted glossy black, silver hood ornament, brand new.
Paint is supposed to sit on top of your nails, but underneath
is advantageous when compared to oil, to muck, to dirty guts
so I was a step on the ladder of the working man,
I could even afford to buy hose, which I still don't wear.
There's something to be said for the over glasses, safety
glasses look, white paper coat, something comical
one supposes, but the purple overalls worn for skiing
which suddenly I could afford, made me my nephews joke.
At times I waited for a date who preferred the bar
called and said maybe later, because passion rumbled
between us when we kissed but I didn't want a flit,
disease, broken promise, I wanted to be embraced
Cozy now, body motion are promises and content
passion is beyond me, the bar on the patio in back
the hand I always hold a missing app that answers
more lonely than any mistaken wish that he'd be the one.
Stars, too, I climbed to them in my dream, climbed
the Space Needle and found my self with no safety net
I always avoided those climbs the dreams more nightmare
even though I do what I am told, to reach, to soar.
Sometimes now I wear black on gold dresses which fit
to the nth inch, so I can barely sit, hold champagne
to watch golden bubbles float against the elegant
white linen against starry night event, that's rich, success.
Dump it gladly for a romp on the beach, the missing
something like threads through a woven maze,
like an angel's hope. When I dump it all and seek
there's grace lying on the shores between the rocks
a pooled place where deer come to lick minerals,
boulders come unglued and sail down river
and think, maybe I could do that. Maybe I could
unglue all the expectations and rearrange the world.
Stepping gently in, on the edge of summer
You are the one who mellowed glorious sun
On playgrounds, picnics, frolicking in fun
In euphony of birdsongs of amiable dawns
Where horizon velvet gleams golden nylon
As verdant-hills, slowly, adorn tawny-brown.
But why, O, why your days still remain hot
Too cold to swim, quite pleasing on yacht
Sometimes alike August, sometimes Fall,
Colorful you may be, donning ochre pizazz,
Yet, judging by palette, October you’re not.
Still, September, you’re a welcome friend
For defying decisively summer’s humid reign,
Leading the way to autumnal escapades,
Readying crop-fields, priming for harvests:
Beans, beets, apples, wholesome kale fresh;
You’re a trusted mate to farmer’s avid quest.
Why be then jealous of splendorous spring
Or resplendent prairies of October dreams,
Or dazzling meadows of crimson red leaves,
Or snowflakes of winter charming romantics;
When being so unique, you would rather be.
September 18, 2021
THE OLD FART SONG
(sing to the tune of "Mamas Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Cowboys")
Verse one:
Old men ain't easy to love and they're harder to mold,
so train 'em when young, girls, don't wait till their bones have turned cold.
They're slow as molasses, wear cheap reading glasses, they're hearing aids give them away,
they grumble and mumble, they bumble and stumble, what hair they have left turns to gray.
Chorus:
Ladies, don't let your husbands survive to be old men,
Their best parts get limber, their brains turn to timber,
they spend too much time letting farts.
Ladies don't let your husbands survive to be old men,
because when they're home, you will wish you're alone
and they think they have all of the smarts.
Verse two:
Old men like old stuff, ain't that some strange stuff, how antiques will make 'em feel young?
They whistle like thistles, sling advice like missiles and sing like their a**es got stung.
They're always ploying and tinker toying, they usually, always repeat:
What did you say dear? SPEAK UP NOW, DAMMIT! and, When in the hell do we eat?
Repeat Chorus
Verse three:
Old men like talkin' way more than go-walkin', but listening, well, not so much.
Don't try to change him or even "re-range" him, or mess with his habits and such.
Changes upset him, so you better let him, still think he has plenty pizazz,
or he will snuffle, kerfuffle and shuffle, doin' stuff that's a pain in the azz.
repeat chorus
Verse four
They say that old soldiers don't die, that they just fade away,
it's the same with your old man... remember each dog has his day.
Don't nickel and dime him, remember to prime him, be kind as he turns into dust.
Through thick and through thin and through silly and sin, you're together for better or bust.
FInal Chorus
Ladies, don't let your husbands survive to be old men,
let 'em be babies and let 'em be children
and let 'em be heroes again.
Ladies, don't let your husbands survive to be old men,
When they hit bottom, be thankful you got 'em,
'Cause soon enough it will all end.
The Crescent City
Ancestral roots are calling me
to Crescent City near the sea.
A city with its past displayed
where long ago the pirates played.
The glowing lights of Vieux Carré;
Café du Monde’s belov’d beignets,
and Creole foods prepared with flare;
it’s been so long since I’ve been there.
The Cajuns live life with pizazz
and everywhere sweet sounds of jazz.
These dreams are where I long to be,
this Crescent City near the sea.
December 19, 2022
Vieux Carré (pronounced VOO kah-RAY) translates to “old square “ in English. The French Quarter, the oldest neighborhood in New Orleans, is referred to as the “Vieux Carré.”
Beignet (pronounced bin-YEAH) is a French pastry.
I was driving with my friend Delia in my brand new Honda Civic
It was noon and we were on our way to see my Auntie,
she’s my mum’s sister, we call her Evil Olive!
Suddenly I swerve to avoid something in the road and skid on some dumb mud -
Was it a cat I saw?
Won’t I panic in a pit now?
Sadly last year there were ten animals I slam in a net.
I was distraught; I don’t want to step on no pets.
Delia saw I was ailed, do you need a drink she asked?
“Rum… rum…” I murmur.
Silly me, I redden, I mustn’t drink and drive
Delia takes over the wheel and pulls up at Walmart’s tram law
We get the trolley passing the fruit and veg, no lemons, no melon.
Oh drat! mom had asked me to take some fruit to Auntie Olive
I’m a vegan, ew eat a ewe - eating meat; the thought is quite disgusting
I wonder when they are killed do geese see God?
I grab something for tea, Ya! Pizza zip pizazz! I pay.
Palindromes II Contest
Sponsored by Joseph May
10/9/18
Amberfest Ambiance
Ah, the orange-gold, I behold in things,
Such as the amber, in my wedding ring.
Invitation to a classic, zesty brunch.
Heart-pounding for this splendiferous lunch.
Let's begin shall we, with aromatic toast,
Slathered with orange jam and golden,
Hawaiin honey.(Tis the most)
Gratefully, we do have enough money,
To eat oudoors, and the Pacific Coast is a honey.
Oh, my eager taste buds start to roast!
Eggs Benedict with perfect golden orbs!
Having breakfast on the azure Pacific Shore.
How could I ask, for anything more?
The scent of fresh California orange juice,
In an amber goblet, ah, turn it loose!
This is my divine amberfest breakfast.
Divinity~full of color and golden pizazz!.
So very blessed and extraordinarily, first class!
1/27/2024
Colorful or Chimera Contest 8-30-23
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Colorful
Separate the tangled tresses of black
Into the colored strands of sheer rainbows,
Release magic of marigold held back,
Mystery of amber lilac in rose.
Let sapphire soar again, where dreams wander,
Free soft amaranth in a bashful blush
Deliver cardinal’s song then ponder
Orange pizazz, crimson inferno’s rush.
Unbind the razzmatazz in raucous red
Unwind evergreen in shamrock dances
Untie amethyst thistles from tight threads
Loosen silk sable’s haunting hues of romance.
Liberate hidden checkmates of darkness
In bursting jubilees, banning starkness.
Deep in the heart of a weekend
No plans, no promise, no pizazz
A feeling as if I were robbed of something
My youth, to be precise
When Saturday night and Sunday found me out and about
Ah, but what’s the point of comparing fragrance and fragility
I’m happy with my life of sitting and writing and waiting
Waiting for my disabilities to return to abilities
recover assets, ditch liabilities
Emotions stir eternally enchanted,
each hurricane fades to a black sky.
The listless poet’s quill drips,
corralling every vibrant sunset.
Writing as old lyrics catch the air,
Say it to me again.. ‘Freefall!’
I don’t want to be disappointed
but I know it’s the truth;
Nothing will ever feel as good as you;
Strawberry-orange flavored orchestra,
citrus pizazz on your senses;
Each note meticulously blended,
what a sweet tart of a smoothie.
The next verse begins with ‘Sweetheart..’
Say it to me again… ‘Freefall!’
I don’t want to be disappointed
but I know it’s the truth;
Nothing will ever feel as good as you;
Featherweight feelings floating
in the air are gingerly swirling.
You want to capture them
right then they pop,
translating into something else.
Say it to me just one more time. ‘Freefall!’
I don’t want to be disappointed
but I know it’s the truth;
Nothing will ever feel as good as you;
It’s a welcome free fall you talked me into.
love is a drug
its a down and a high is lust
love is to chill out
lust has styles
if love is to savour
lust is to pizazz the flavor
ya'll fronting like you know better
wRAP the flow like so : its a down and a high. and a high is lust
I Wait With Bated Breath...
(slack jaw froze mine countenance
when eyes blinded with figurative
daggers asper mistakes in original draft,
hence...this flood proof, fire resistant,
and fever reducing error free version.)
(yes...yes...yes, this rhyme
resembles a recent one of mine
from a previous time,
yet appropriating wands zone writing
haint no crime -
at least not yet!)
Okay bull heave me you,
at this moment
alm completely unaware
what the a muse zing
genie of poetic
inspiration will bring
possibly shelving what Calliope
holds in store for me,
meanwhile now
with impatience it ching
visa vis to discover
what this Earthling,
(albeit modest) will be amazingly
graced with pizazz, meanwhile aye fling
haphazardly, indiscriminately,
and jocosely blitz
krieg feebly attempting
to contrive ingeniousness emits
poetic prestidigitation in fits
and starts, sans "FAKE" wits
as this humble
human imperceptibly orbitz
around mister Sun,
(which about bajillion years
from now suddenly quits)
shining foisting misery,
where Nyx knocks
(paddy whack give
my dog a bone...) divinely,
knowingly and spiritedly visits
(believe me you) this trumpeting
stupid moron loser
forever doth taint
after this moment
(no need tubby saint
lee and suppress any quaint
gut wrenching chortle)
at what aint
no farce), nor literary feint
yours truly painfully,
sorrowfully, and verily avers,
he now lacks fire and fury
(as if nettled and docked by burrs)
nonetheless, which ambition
dust hanker mink thinks furs,
and foremost (Tom
morrow i.e. purrs
sues tha owl mighty,
where fame posthumously spurs
me amidst pantheon
of great writers
which dream dashed
into a million,
(no...no...no...not
bajillion this instance,
though good guess) pieces
abysmal silence replacing
(palimpsest like),
mine over active imagination whirs.
There once was a fellow named Taz,
who liked to write with flare and pizazz,
this name he was given,
at the ripe age of seven,
because all of his friends he would razz!
P erpetual swagger
I ntoxicating personality
Z ing to the zang of everything
A ttractively styling
Z ealous attitude of royalty
Z enith of attributes
Constantly loyal to charisma. Alarmingly charming
Fireflies
Electric pizazz
Flickering winks of blue ghosts
Like magic with wings
Flits and frolics on warm air
Sets the solstice nights twinkling
3-14-22
Contest: Fireflies
Sponsor: JCB Brul
Tanka: 5,7,5,7,7