Best Plain Poems
Footsteps shuffle hurriedly on by
scents of jasmine drop down
from pearl white flowers
adorning her flowing hair
Paradise engulfs my soul
recreating memories of old
a time when I mattered
and life was deemed whole
I yearn to go back to that place
filled with a freedom of being
dwelling in favorable light
no longer hidden in plain sight
The luscious, long, green grass
Sways and sweeps and flows.
How far, how fast this wind will travel,
No one really knows!
This same wind could stir up
Whirls and waves in all seas.
This powerful force makes nature dance.
Our senses this does please.
Though it can be disruptive
On a minor or major scale,
It can uproot trees, tear roofs off houses,
It can delay or prevent sails...
It still has its boundaries.
This can be assuring to all, to me and you.
We can't see the wind,
But it's effects are in plain view.
Sometimes this wind teases us,
Playing with our hair,
Or has us swatting at thistles and leaves,
Flying through the air.
The wind can also be so kind,
To tell us our coffee's hot.
Or to move our rude cigar,
From it's blowing spot.
Wind can be a gentle reminder,
To put on our kid's jacket,
Or to lower our voice,
During a downwind racket.
It is always there soft or strong,
And never with a hue, that is...
We can't see the wind,
But it's effects are in plain view.
19-September-2021
On an outback plain where big Roos were few
A gang went riding their Harley’s
Their plan was to stop at the pub for a brew
So they headed at top speed for Charley’s
It wasn’t too long as they sped along
that a Big Red hopped out of nowhere
that was the moment that things went wrong
and started this sorry affair
After the first Harley hit the Roo
they ended up in a spinning heap - until
someone had a silly notion of what to do
I’m certain they meant no ill will.
They decided - for a novel photo op
They would dress the dead roo in leather.
They propped him up beside a large rock
In a biker’s jacket and helmet
Laughing and joking and dressing and poking
They stood beside him to pose.
When all of a sudden and I am not joking
The dead carcass took off with the clothes.
The tragedy was the jacket was new
and the bloody thing was expensive
But it gets a great laugh when he’s having a brew
Still, it took a long time to make sense of.
THROUGH A WILDERNESS OF
THROUGH A WILDERNESS OF GRASSY PLAIN,
WHERE WAR HAS TOOK PLACE IN A WORLD OF PAINS.
OUR COUNTRY MEN, OUR FATHERS, SONS & OUR FRIENDS,
WHO WERE SENT TO WAR, AND WHICH BECAME OF THEIR EACH DEATHLY ENDS.
THEY WHOM FOUGHT FOR THEIR LAND OR SO THEY THOUGHT.
INSTEAD LED BY THE GOVERNMENTS TO LAY IN THEIR GRAVES THEY NOW IN DEATH ROT.
OUR SOLDIERS HAILED HEROES FOR ACTING OUT THE DEMANDS.
OF THEIT VERY OWN COUNTRYS BASTARDING GOVERNING HANDS.
FAMILES LEFT BEHIND WITH THEIR GRIEF FOR THE DEAD WHICH HAS COME ABOUT BY AN UNJUST CRUELTY BY THE GOVERNMENT LED.
UPON THE FIELDS OF MASS DESTRUCTION IN WAR
THEIR VERY OWN DEATHS THEY IN THEIR GRAVES HAD THEY FOUGHT FOR.
WHY DIDNT THEY LISTEN TO THEIR PARENTS INSTEAD OF THAT BASTARDING GOVERNMENT THAT LEFT THEM EACH OF THEM DEAD.
IF I HAVE LEARNT ANYTHING IN MY TIME ON THIS EARTH
IS ILL TEACH MY CHILDREN TO GIVE NOT INTO THE LAWS & GIVE GREED A WIDE BERTH.
people stood behind the glass
staring at him with gnashing teeth
intent upon his death.
He saw red, angry eyes absent of all
Thought except vengeance,
Yet, in those eyes was a spark of
questioning-
As he was stared down by those ripe
with revenge- why him? He still
couldn't understand
His every move felt worse and
worse.
the people behind the glass looked
like monsters.
Lacking clarity, he still didn't
understand when two uniformed
men took him to a small room.
the room where all the most horrid
and evil people were seated
Luckily they were on the other side
of the glass! He knew they would
hurt him bad if given the chance
The uniforms pushed him down
into his own chair, strapping him in
tight- still not understanding why.
Looking up he saw the evil faces
started to grin-
Oh! It was just a joke all for him!
They weren't mad!
He sat there feeling better, smiling
and starting to say hello -
He heard a buzzer
And that was the end.
A. Green
Written for the many innocent
souls on death row.
narcissists with huge egos slither and slink ~ hmmm, what would Rumi think
a sly smile on their lips, thinking it's a disguise ~ not from many eyes
having an overly aggressive attitude ~ it's just plain a-rse rude
they are like lemons with sour zest ~ for goodness sake, please give it a rest
I wrote this in a guy’s point of view, because I was inspired by Josh Torres
I’m tired of the same.
I want her a little more plain.
I said I’m tired of the same old same.
I know they’re not to blame, that their not the right frame.
I just want her a little more plan.
She would have all my praise, for the beauty she obtains.
Just being a little more plain.
She is truly beautiful and not vain.
Being just a little more plain.
She does not blend in with all of them.
She stands out in the rain.
Being just a little more plain.
When big rocks turned into tiny trees
Flocking gulls balanced atop laser beams.
Ginormous people, accompanied by humongous animals, toted big axes behind them.
All of this happened way back when . . .
Way, way back when kids were just plain kids.
4.21.2017
A mournful moon ascended,
Haggard,
Bland,
Weak.
Silence unfurled upon the grassy plain.
Gloomy shadows:
I felt so depressed
And lonely.
All around a sense of nostalgia,
Of reluctance
That made me wince in pain.
I sat beneath an old, gnarled oak tree.
The air was mute
But not peaceful!
Still, sparse stars swung in perfect symphony.
Dreams descended on restless somnambulists.
The waning moon continued
Its steady downward course.
The dark green plain stretched afar.
Where were their ghostly shadows?
Spectral and weird darkness seem to dissolve.
The moon was now at its resting place.
Soon, the sun would clear my befogged mind.
An uneasy truce is reached
Between the mind and heart
In staid silence they entwine
But for most part stand apart
A rude elbow nudges our ribs
Feral residue of our dark past
We wish to be free but cannot
It seems destiny’s die is cast
Dying dusk casts a long shadow
Ignoring love’s wafting fragrance
Yet humming heart wistfully sings
In a burst of playful exuberance
This see saw battle continues
Unnoticed by near and dear ones
Bliss beats rise signalling dawn
Luminescence of a thousand suns
You can find me
Hidden in plain sight
Through the ebbs and flows of life
Through the cracks and veins
Of the Acropolis’ stones
You can run into me
In the most shadowy corners
Of suburban alleys
Skating fluidly on metal bars
Impervious to any scratches and scars
You can spot me
At the first bolt of sunrise
Skimming over the water
Until the twilight fall
You can come across me
During your rest at that cozy inn
At the end of the downhill road
Or
During your usual antics in that rowdy tavern
Lit by endless stained-glass lamps
Whilst drinking from a bulky glass of beer
Enjoying the company of your peers
Who am I?
Perhaps
The reflection of the light
The darkest shadow of the night
Wandering freely before your eyes
It is me, right?
The one you claim
To be hard to find
To identify
To pinpoint in space and time
Well
I am all over the world
I am the elephant in the room
Boldy and gracefully stepping outside
At all hours of the day and night
For I
Am the essence of life
Always hidden in plain sight
I view it as unseemly to use high-sounding language to make an impression.
I perceive it to be ostentatious to marshal words vainglorious in succession.
It is a determinant of consternation, if not constipation, to be so assaulted.
Obsessive practitioners of linguistic pomposity presume they are self-exalted.
Whom [note proper objective case usage] do they fathom they are deceiving?
Do they inaugurate imaginations veined by vanity that I am them believing?
I desire a day when poets dispossess themselves of verbiage of pretension
And with exemplary expediency abandon exotic words they need not mention.
Poets aspiring to perfection should endorse this humble verse unreservedly,
Or have their word-overworked works consigned to anonymity deservedly.
In the Scottish highlands, a storm's brewing,
lightning flashes lighting up the night sky.
And a liquid moon pools above the clouds,
on a sultry summer's eve in July.
Lock Ness shimmers like a silver shilling
its surface rippling ever so slightly.
And a submerged serpentine silhouette
glides through the waters, almost contritely.
Nessie seldom swims in the full moonlight,
for darkness is its only proven friend.
And instinctively, it hides in shadows,
fearing its sighting might lead to its end.
Under cover of the approaching storm,
it feels safer upon this moonlit night.
And it likes the accompanying rain
so much that it risks swimming in plain sight.
Living in the depths of the lock's waters,
it sometimes yields to the light of the moon.
And rises to play and splash in the waves,
dreading that it'll have to go back soon.
(Quatrain)
Jan.7, 2018
Window ledge song
Stray sparrows sing;
A choral duo
~~~~~~~~~
Rain drops slide
Blurry window view;
Furious stormy night
~~~~~~~~~
Not much to say
Old couple sit;
Passing people punctuate
~~~~~~~~~
Coffee maker sounds
Morning makeovers;
Caffeine fix retort
~~~~~~~~~
From this penthouse
Brief promontory;
Puzzling landscapes
~~~~~~~~~
Lovely couple
Youth presides;
Time will tell
~~~~~~~~~
Haiku moment
Zero metaphor;
Captured picture
~~~~~~~~~
Plain words
Tell not describe;
Look and see
~~~~~~~~~
Curious pantomime
Merge into a dream;
Fall into another
~~~~~~~~~
Joy waits
Sorrow appears;
Opposites reconcile
~~~~~~~~~
Eastern view
Western education;
Two worlds endow
~~~~~~~~~
Awakening
Awareness
Abundance
~~~~~~~~~
Bus stop queue
Gadgets in hand;
Electronic toys
~~~~~~~~~
Social media
Conspiracy theories;
Insidious intents
~~~~~~~~~
Girl and boy
Two whirls collide;
Fancy intervenes
~~~~~~~~~
Years have etched
Facial sculptures;
Deep wrinkles attest
~~~~~~~~~
Cite and recite
Write and re-write;
Nothing much
~~~~~~~~~
Opposites attract
To balance out;
Not much more
~~~~~~~~~
Curious wonder
Time runs away;
Not much left
~~~~~~~~~
Like attracts like
To boost buzz;
Ample estates
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
10 May 2015
Singapore
Damn I Love Plain Jane! She's basic and always the same. She may be a lame but she's never lost in the game.
I love the kinda women that you don't need to run game! The chicks star searching for fame, please stay out of my lane. Am I to blame because I love a woman who is tame, with a gigantic brain? I love a lady who's into logistics, who's conversation is far beyond that same old "Let's Get Fit" script.
I love women with a unique identity. She doesn't fit well in our everyday society. She dots her i's and crosses her T's but she normally dressed in a white T and fitted jeans. See, in 2015, alot of women are more worried about "appearance" rather than perseverance. Can't count to 10 but can find time to fit her mascara in.
I don't want her to blend; bending over backwards for poor excuses of men. Taking in so much foolishness that it becomes a trait I call cluelessness! Her only solution is a pint of gin to release her sins. Come here baby, show me that grin, I promise this is not the end.
Time after Time; again and again, your so-called simple days blow with turbulent wind.
Remember this affirmation: You are not Plain, You are not the Same, and Your Glory Will Always and Forever Burn like a Flame!