Best Preened Poems
The many winters I had seen
When once I was a teen
Gathered inside our small living room
Joy and simplicity our faces illume
Warm with laughter at striking stories
Light is the heart and empty of worries
My sisters and sole brother
The treasure of my father and my mother
Mum, our angel of the earth
The springs of our gaiety and mirth
Moving in the magic of her young age
Our hunger for hot food would assuage
Would even bring a piece of paradise
To us, if we dared ask, for any price
Dad, overloaded, would tread miles for our sake
Serene reassuring smiles while so much at stake
The nights echoed holy verses dad used to read
Developing a sense of belonging to his creed
Opening our hearts to the graces and blessings of the Divine
In my veins, a life of a tender love I’ll ever enshrine
*****
Many winters had passed
Still nourished of a so precious past
Confined to the tranquility of the night
The magic box would offer dreams in black and white
Stress and concern evaporated and lost weight
Soft whispers.. suppressed giggles with life pulsate
The quietest of corners I would always look for
My sanctuary, my home made bookstore
Ever my worlds side by side shaping the inner me
No single worry over the one whom I would be
Why would I when I was entangled in more than one story
Preened myself on my pen musing in my world of ivory
My younger sis who of English knew no word
Would grant me her patience and love for what she heard
Love and most of all contentment and gratitude
Deeply remained, the reign of my worlds and my soul food
The cold of winters, now, how can my words perceive
In my realm of poesy what of warmth willing to weave
The winter of our Life which many abhor
My wishes I will have the grace to adore.
Categories:
preened, age, blessing, books, family,
Form:
Rhyme
Tongues of my temptress fire lick
arousing your ardent artistic desire
if you dare imagine me — the intensity
capture me, take your chance
I’ll love you, leave you, please you, tease you, traipse you,
take you heavenly higher
I'm your drama queen, diva, ballerina
I’m your fierce flamenco dance!
Scarlet swirls sweeping and dervish whirls weeping
we are a fluorescent fandango.
Flowing your ink through my virtual veins;
I'm your lust, your lament, your confession
in your skin stargazing, wrapped in rhymes rippling
your taste buds, your sweet wild mango,
breathe me to life with beauty and angst
I'm your dreamy rhapsodic obsession.
Fantasy clouds I fly, your bird-of-passionate-paradise
plumage preened with geranium esprit
in rhythmic rapture, twirl me in provocative pirouettes
flare the sensual skirts of your mind.
Alive in your heartbeat, I pulsate;
- you love me - hate me - need me - you can’t live without me -
I personify designs dancing across your page
of our pillow talk poetically lined.
Forge my nature in your flame as I mesmerize you
I am your ingénue;
your soulful seduction strumming my spirit to liveliness
with an effleurage of emotion...
I’m the creation of your inspiration
a dazzling display of ravish red and citrine hue
in prose I pose arabesque till vivid verse sets me free;
a flamboyant flamingo, your flirtatious muse in motion.
Categories:
preened, dance, emotions, imagery, imagination,
Form:
Personification
You possess me with those eyes of pyromania
a tidal wave of temptation thrashing into my need for euphoria
romanticized on appetite for agile reckoning of kiss ravishing, harnessing my hysteria,
plumed with lashes lent from love's wings, curling wet wishing
brows preened sexy mean, fur strip stiring me,
hypnotized by your hot umber rings
I learn how suspense stings
circles of crave unbuckling my brazen brandishing,
deep set on my desire I'm unraveling for the vixen fire, heart sweating,
born from the brown of beauty's sweetest warmth
eyes that bite and suck the stress
right out of my soul's duress,
for you I go forth...
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
You possess me with those eyes of eagle blue
you use a single glance my hesitancy to unglue
soaring in the sky of my sweetened fantasy
these blue crystal orbs foretell of ecstasy
But first...the hunt...looking for prey - it's true
it's you - the Eagle
brutally brave and fiercely famished
you glide on the wind of my desire
your wings ablaze with fire
your eyes fierce, Oh, how they pierce
again and again
my inner sanctum deep
their hue puts the sky to shame
demanding passion and cravings untame
they bore deep into me
slashing bonds of inhibition free
Our eyes speak
Brown and Blue
Me and You...
in your eyes the need to seize
in mine, the need to please
yours dominate
mine capitulate
yours subjugate
mine consummate,
your eyes speak...
mine respond...Bonded, we belong
Eagle and Dove
poetry love
Our eyes speak...
A Collaboration Made From The Quills Of Justin & Eileen
Categories:
preened, passion,
Form:
Epic
I
An ode to the courageous hummingbird
The tiniest bird, but bravest of all
He flits about without saying a word,
When most unexpected he comes to call
Fluttering gossamer wings rapidly,
He graces the feeder in an instant
While hovering in usual fashion,
His colorful feathers preened nattily
The ruby at his throat most dominant
--Epitome of avian passion.
II
His coat glistens with iridescent hues
Most easily seen in the bright sunlight
He’s glaring at me from his fleeting views,
Interrupting his bold, erratic flight
I look back at him with determined poise
Enraptured by his slow backward retreat
With rare aplomb think him taken aback,
I hear his delightful low humming noise
As he refuses to admit defeat,
Comes quickly to my face, spiraling back.
III
Oh, sweet little fellow so loved and prized
Topic of bird-lovers conversation
Yet when you appear, I am so surprised
Enamored with your gay presentation,
Wanting to hold you to my gentle breast
To say I have made you my little friend
Your colorful beauty so astounds me,
So far surpassing Mother Nature’s best
Lovelier shades always make up your blend
Love you, hummingbird, my pleasure to see.
[NATURE]
Submitted to: "2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 2" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mark Toney
June 15, 2022
FIRST PLACE WINNER
Written April 28, 2022
Syllables check with HMS
written for "O Form - Ode - New Poems - Poetry Contest"
sponsored by Constance La France
#4 on BEST NEW POEMS LIST
Poetry Soup
May 27, 2022
Categories:
preened, bird, nature,
Form:
Ode
* This one is for my Mommy, her Mommy ETC- the lucky ones.
Nourishment- encouragement.
Minister of all heart's treasure
Donor of the kindest pleasure
Infinite love, no measure
Powerful embraces, your leisure.
Sublime being, forever proud
Never shallow, nor a shroud
Instructing all, love you vowed
Quiet sentinel, strength so loud.
Upon weary days, you'd not smother
Heart enriching, me 'n' my brother
To adore you, there in no other
Divulging to all, the perfect Mother.
This one is for the unlucky one's who have or had no choice.
O' girl born to royalty
From the moment of birth,
Preened for the aristocracy
Prospect to a King's loyalty-
Fed from another's breast
Mother was busily searching for
your future husband's crest.
Princess's every movement planned,
even to whom would be given her hand.
Aged of thirteen years,
a fountain of ideas was becoming hers.
Learned in languages, yet
to never have a tongue
Driven to madness
O' so very young.
"All that is expected of thee
is to be wife and Queen, in this land
of unity. Bear sons and speak not
a whit, after all... you are but a
woman, silly twit." Her Father, the
King explained that eve 'fore her nuptial.
"But Father, I know not even who he is!"
The frightened Princess softly spoke.
Yet the argument was always the same.
She was to wed the King of a strange land,
to go with him as always planned.
She was to forge the union of Kingdoms.
To do as told and enjoy all that is grand.
The day of the Union, she met her
betrothed, walking down the isle
He stood there , some fifty years old,
large, pasty, expectant and with a vulgar smile.
And all her fears, even within her
young years- drove her instantly mad.
In a rage, she died then and there
rather than to be locked in her Royal
cage.
These are akin to so many women and mother's alive to this day.
Never should these women go unnoticed.
Categories:
preened, dedication, mother, women,
Form:
Rhyme
Dark Night – City Streets
A dark night on city streets
soft yellow glare of streetlights
outlining slow creepy things.
Scents of cooling kitchens
and boiling excitement
tickled the deepening thrill.
A rising tremor of frightful glee
slinking through the streets
mocking the shadows lies.
City streets crawling with anticipation
window shades peeked through
doors held ajar in preparation,
For they would come – as always
on this, their night, utter again
the monsters mantra – Trick or Treat.
Flow in wicked waves of want
seek the lowly sustenance
of the sticky sweet tribute.
Short, weary legs of demons
tire easily - and slowly
retreat to comfort of warm lairs.
Window shades are straightened
doors closed and locked
streetlight shadows calmed
As monsters – cleaned and preened,
hugged and nuzzled in their nests
sleep, and dream, of Halloween.
10/24/2015
Categories:
preened, city, halloween,
Form:
Free verse
As a girl in my teen I did stray
to the circus I did run away
I wanted to fly
high in the sky
But, Mother wanted me to dance ballet!
Yes Debbie-Do flew upon a trapeze
in sequined tights with a rod 'tween her knees
her hair in a tail
her cleavage unveiled
I was the toast of the town if you please!
As I preened on the platform up high
and powdered my two hands and my thighs
one fine reporter
said I really aughta
Try out for the circus in Shanghai.
Categories:
preened, funny,
Form:
Limerick
A bouquet of canaries came calling.
A yellow rose quartette.
They expected nothing, just sweetly sang.
Preened the pangs of life away.
They were just looking for a place to rest.
The had been flushed from the hills and valleys.
but never did they once complain.
Life continued on.
With days and nights of water colored nonchalance.
After some time,
I noticed their plumage turning dull.
Their songs all but stopped.
Suddenly one day they all just flew off...
On an icy horizon
sat a fattened red-tailed hawk.
Pale yellow feathers in its greasy beak.
Reflecting back to a jagged mirror called fatal destiny.
Categories:
preened, life,
Form:
Rhyme
A warm sultry summers night, a silver crystal formed in
the corner of an eye. Trickled and rolled a gentle cheek,
fell to earth where all was dry. Whence it touched the
ground did speak, an Orchid bloomed of vibrant hues,
reds and whites, the palest blues. The Tear catcher dabbed
the bluest eye, a smile pursued a gentle sigh. The catcher
kissed is favourite friend, his purses full to the night did
blend..
Eerk, eerk the frog he croaked, help us Flora the pool is
choked, eerk, eerk and off he hopped, Flora followed
her duties swapped. By the pool, eyes in moonbeams
danced, their love of Flora is well romanced. Flora, Flora
help us please, the pool is choked by a blue disease. The
fish gasped and gulped for air, wildfowl preened their
feathers fair, otters, voles in a sticky mass, frogs and
toads could not pass. The sedge, the reed, heads did fall,
marigolds and lily's, threatened by this seedy sprawl.
With her hands she ceased the breeze, asked for quiet
from the trees. Beckoned all the spiders to the waters
edge, north to south along the sedge. Said to the spiders
cross your legs, spin, spin with all your might, those
silver threads strong and tight. To the Water Boatmen
she said pull, pull, until your net is full. Water Beatles
heaved and toiled, with insect life the water broiled.
Dragonflies with smaller nets collected dregs, Toads
and Frogs flipped with longer legs. The Newts and
Fowl came to assist, where once was dark the moon
it kissed. Across the pool the Voles and Otters pulled
away, most did work but some did play. To the sticky
web the Algae clings, behind a bright blue water sings.
The silver net was dragged well clear, all had helped
from far and near.
Flora asked the breeze to bring the clouds, left a message
for the sun to hide his head, but to keep her friends warm
in the shade. For without the rays the Algae would die,
and all would be peace and beauty before the eye. Dawn
was close, time for Flora to pat, stroke and kiss her pals
goodbye. She must return to the safety of the glade and
to the shade of the magic willow, her bed of moss and
Lavender for a pillow.
Categories:
preened, childrenwater, blue, silver, water,
Form:
When did you outgrow my love?
When did the fabric of my tenderness
Become too tight
Too fitting?
When did the garment of my passion
Become restrictive?
When did you start to look for new coverings
To clothe the nakedness of your soul?
When?
Tell me…
When did you outgrow my love?
When did you outgrow this nest?
Was it when you found out that you could fly?
Having been nourished, pampered and preened
Your wings of self-esteem
Unfurling to soar on the word wind of my praise…
Was it then?
When did you outgrow my love?
Ah, Hush…my love, no need to speak
For my heart knows the answer well
I know when it all started to take place
I could read your face
The expression you wore
As I helped you dress
That look in your eyes
Belied the lies
That the fit was just right
And so you tugged at the seams
Unraveled my dreams
The stitches undone
My garment you tore
And yet you swore
Alterations wouldn't do
You needed something new
In the dead of night
You took to flight
Undressed, free
For you had outgrown…..
You had outgrown….
ME.
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Categories:
preened, love, moving on, pain,
Form:
Free verse
Armano the Auracano of Rock Star fame
Will never be singing on his stage again
A fan. a critter, or even a possum
Has taken his life, he will no longer blossom
He was a handsome dude, tall and preened
With shiny red rustic feathers, and did the girls scream
A newspaper reporter asked his manager Dane
It must be hard for you, as you will miss him playing
Yes i will, things will never be the same
But another star will be born, to look after his dames
Categories:
preened, animals, family, loss, nature,
Form:
Couplet
Once upon a time...
Once upon a time, in France, a storyteller fella
Wrote of a girl named Cinderella,
Meant as a fairy tale romance.
Her daddy died when she was young, and she was forced to share his riches
With three monumental b****es,
A most unhappy circumstance.
For years her stepmom and stepsibs made her perform a menial's duty,
And as she blossomed into beauty,
They grew more hateful, mean, and cruel.
Each night they dined on fine cuisine and wore lace dresses with silk sashes,
While she wore rags begrimed with ashes,
And got just crusts of bread and gruel.
Then one day a herald from the king demanded entry
To the homes of landed gentry,
They were invited one and all.
It was the prince's eighteenth birthday, and the king and queen were harried
Because their son was not yet married.
Ergo, the reason for the ball.
The stepsisters primped and preened and wild excitement they exuded,
When Cindy asked to be included, they gaped at her as if appalled.
Stepmother sneered, "Look here, I'll show you!"
With self-righteous indignation,
"Your name's not on the invitation.
Just we elite are so installed."
So Cinderella went downstairs to seek some solace in the kitchen,
But 'stead of sittin' there and b****in', she started dancing with a broom.
She whirled and twirled around the floor,
Or else she'd stand there, gently swaying,
As if an orchestra was playing
Pretending they were bride and groom.
And then a flash, a crash of thunder, and to Cindy's stunned amazement,
There gliding through the kitchen casement,
A pudgy lady dressed in blue.
She said, "Hello, my dear, no fear, I'm here to grant your secret wishes,
I'll wave my wand and clear the dishes,
And make a princess out of you!"
She waved and tapped and flicked and zapped,
And what she seemed to make the air do
Was give her make-up, nails, and hair-do,
And then to make the look complete,
Out of those rags so soiled and worn and far too torn to drown a cat in,
A gown of gossamer and satin, and crystal slippers on her feet.
Without this timely intervention, Cindy's tale might have been tragic.
Could she have managed without magic,
And her dilemma be resolved?
But everybody knows what happened with a gourd and six white mice,
And how a smudgy scullery maid was made to clean up really nice,
When a fairy got involved.
To be continued...
Categories:
preened, humor,
Form:
Light Verse
Clever you are
playing your game
you are no
common crow
However preened your plumes
blades of night to obscure
far from blind
I can see right through
to the dawn
You thought me taken
but myself I have given
I want to be your
sacrificial pawn
But do open the blind
and let the light in
I want to see you in all of your luster
as you slay me again
those little deaths*
I want more
*la petite mort
"the sensation of ****** likened to death"
25.03.18
Composed for Joseph May's
Picture This - Image 1
2nd place
Categories:
preened, bird, games, lust, sexy,
Form:
Free verse
Winter's subtle brush and Spring's balmy stroke
On ragged frost to glossy flowers
Will on with the heaven's wheel go—
A passing through your new older hours,
The sun's condolences, for dark power.
As you've preened birdsong into my fear,
Your beauty's long and lasting ear—
My heart's breakthrough, tissues finally shed
Its life pulsing; pushing things; other years—
Vibrations only after freezing's midst.
Categories:
preened, absence, innocence, light, love,
Form:
Dizain
Paint me a poem of Emerald green;
with lapis blues and golden hues.
A poem that is so well preened,
that I’ll want to salute the sky.
Categories:
preened, appreciation, art, poems, poetry,
Form:
Rhyme