Best Prestidigitation Poems


The Land of Legerdemain

Let's look to the land of Legerdemain
locale with surprises by sleight-of-hand.
Cards, coins, magic wands tax one's eyes and brain;
absorbed, we watch street performers grandstand.
Legerdemain - skullduggery pre-planned, 
audience rapt in magic so diverse 
assistants can pinch your wallet or purse.
True talent of prestidigitation 
would never aid legerdemain’s perverse
misuse of skillful manipulation.

March 22, 2020

entry in Beth Evans' Delightful Dizains
Categories: prestidigitation, 11th grade, magic,
Form: Dizain

Prestidigitation

A zephyr blows
a warm kiss
on the back 
of my neck
conjuring desire;
serving Eros—
with sleight of hand:
a gift of flowers—
psyche succumbs.
Categories: prestidigitation, love,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Houdini's Nation

Amazed by each demonstration
of the illusionist's innovation 
More than mere prestidigitation 
Worthy of a standing ovation
© Joe Inka  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: prestidigitation, celebrity,
Form: Rhyme

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


I Wait With Bated Breath

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.
Categories: prestidigitation, 12th grade, 9th grade,
Form: Free verse

Devil Hold

If you were to embrace me one moment,
I would melt in the fissures of your throbbing prestidigitation
My heart would dare not let me see the poison you excrete
My mind would make excuses, to be in your arms again

Devil! how you break me down so lovingly,
With fingers so candid on my gyrating frame
I am frightened by the chords you play on me
With those magic lips and that impassioned tongue
I befall speechless as I clutch you

Your auspicious words keep me partially consolidated,
As I tremble with every whisper in this gelatinous agitation
I mean to divorce my pleading fervor so that I may breathe
And overcome this pressing desire to please you

Devil! how you weigh me down so blithely,
I cringe, and I recoil—you merely close in
With certainty you plunge unwavering
Your sorcery slaying all of my resistance

If I were to embrace you again,
The fires of promise you enchant me with would die, and slowly
The ice of your soulful lies would shatter my mind, so fixedly
And my stubborn heart would cry, cursedly,  

“You have endured thus far, and forever always!”
Categories: prestidigitation, crazy, dark, evil, heart,
Form: Dramatic Monologue

Real Magic

Unlike a magician
          real magic I weave
It's not a trick	
     nothing up my sleeve

No abracadabra
           no sleight of hand
No vaudeville act
       or stunt preplanned

No mumbo jumbo
                  no hocus pocus
No smoke and mirrors
            to make eyes lose focus	

No prestidigitation
            no attempt to deceive
No optical illusion
           or make believe

Real magic exists
            it's not hard to find
Just close your eyes
          and open your mind
Categories: prestidigitation, magic,
Form: Rhyme


Time and Tide Wait For No Man

Or Woman, Or Child, Or...

The following elucidated
     conjecture actually can
(reed best) be taken with a grain
     of salt, and no re ban
nah nah split 'ope ya 'ere me 
     cloud and lear, cuz (Oh my...
heavens to Betsy), ennui   
     got pulled by Evan -

Jewel Lean, who handed this long fellow
     (wads worth to you) 
     speculation with fan
see prestidigitation legerdemain - tan
ta mount to cheap tricks
     re: out of thin air
     by this half
     fast hue man,
Hill Billy Willy Wonka Nilly,

     who blithely doth asseverate
apothegm (poem title) equally applicable
     Century21 today Aswan
damn maxim initially
     bespoke, when collective
     primates begat enfant terrible
     foo fighting predetermining anon
     metastasizing debacle Yeti 

     bedeviling civilization
     a bajillion years in the future with
     Matthew Scott Harris deadpan
words worth less his way
     before even an odd iota
     of dire straight sultan
of swing didst merely span
spottily scattered amidst

     pristine Earth, where
     unchanging arboreal
beastie boys to oman,
and flock of sea gulls
     continuity elapsed – Ivan
hunch, albeit un
     recorded disc contented sow
     sow hogtied pan

dum mo' nee ham, or
     blessed historical events,
     kept (stay'n) alive,
     courtesy"FAKE" Trump
     petting Dapper Dan,
where he knit pattern,
     qua oral tradition, sans clan
destine scattered hot pockets

     of sparse *****sapiens,
     i.e. humanity LESS preponderant,
     primary, and/or prolific,
     where superstitions parlayed
     (voodoo with no Fran Schwa),
     and whirling dervishes fed elan,
which earliest recorded (doctored,
     digitized, and demented

     oh yea), not
     tomb mitt to dimly mentioned
     asper "time and tide
     wait for no man"
     purportedly by one
     Saint Marher, circa:
     1225 anno domini.
Categories: prestidigitation, 11th grade, 7th grade,
Form: Enclosed Rhyme

Revelry of the Glutton

There’s a drumstick in the refrigerator and it’s calling out my name,
There’s some biscuits and gravy next to it and they are doing just the same.

How do they know me and what is it that they want me to do?
Do they really think that I can devour them any better than you?

Have my talents at culinary consumption reached such a peak,
That the food now requests some quality time nestled in my cheek?

With prestidigitation the food will disappear from my plate,
By slight of hand I’ll fill my mouth and then I’ll masticate.

I'm the best one to contact when there’s food around to swallow?
I don’t want to brag but I’ve never left the table feeling hollow.

Come to me you leftover foods allow me to fill your destiny,
For I alone can make you happy while you digest in me.
© Tony Lane  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: prestidigitation, funny, me, food, me,
Form: Light Verse

Where Art Sisyphus

Tis quite a beast of burden to bear atlas (shrug off not allowed)
Atlas shrugged an impossibility
tantamount to skinny dipping in the lock nest lagoon

Tantamount to shrugging Atlas off mine bony, 
   ill suited, widower wizened shoulders, 
would take naked fat chance in Fountain Head of virgin waters, 
   eddy fied with huge boulders 
which preliminary sketches to maintain pristine 
   (pure as Snow White's booty) kept in folders

when collaborative effort called, the fore mid able, 
   trio, sans state of the artists 
   (within their respective trades as writer
   fictional hero, and architect) 
   Ayn Rand, John Galt, and Howard Roark, 

   who undertook resplendent measures 
   affected resilient as omnipotent cable
   tub ring plenti kickstarting linkedin gatecrashers   
   to a snapchatting halt 
   instagramming, crowdsourcing, crowdfunding, 
   held at equivalent asper Bay of Pigs
   viz Pay of Bigs 

   (in this context identified as  
   (vudu trained stalwarts, petsmart outlook, 
   incorporating literary, metaphorical,   
   nautical staff comprising fable
sea Crete cure metamorphoses abilities, as failsafe method – 
   i.e., physically, instantaneously, architecturally rendering
   modus operandi capacity asper quick as blazing saddles
   (ponied up by young Frankenstein) 
   kept in fireproof stable,

   where at dextrous fingers ala hocus-pocus prestidigitation 
   which chiefly buoyantly ardently, and hardily drafted imp pier re: hull 
   rock hull impediment for shore also cast evil spells should 
   any foolish soul, who dared 
   to maneuver past the near blinding pier sing redoubt
   to access blue lagoon like watery oasis 
   shielded via reeking poor Island 
   (where an atomic rooster gargoyle shrouded parapet)
   buffeted the crashing waves against 
   the lock smooth as a glass table

whose wooden sea legs solidly affixed 
   to hip, hip hooray three chairs
inviting two story book heroes plus the author,  
   unfurling parchment scriptural roles invited ad lib flairs
since threat of category five hurricane 
 manifested took writer by surprise,

   thus requiring her to utilize cognitive gears
which necessitated modification of original plot,
   now bumped credos with religion 
   vis a vis engendering prayers.
Categories: prestidigitation, absence, allegory, anxiety, deep,
Form: Free verse

I Asked Myself a Rhetorical Question

I Asked Myself A Rhetorical Question...

Asper daily expounding fostering
     inchoate manifesting mod
     er writ writing quality,
     solitary scrimmage tackling
     undertaking, yielding whir
ring, sputtering, kickstarting, and
     buzz-feeding at competitive, communal
     crowed did metaphorical trough,

     where household named author's
     top New York Times best seller
     tier, overshadowing under
rated genre bending, breakout aspiring,
story board qualifying,
     opportunistic newbie man
     use script artful dodgers
     mere dust collecting drafts,

anticipating to stir infectious interest
     incumbent - at mercy,
     tripwire activating quint
essential key, which anchors print
ting projected uncertain
     popularity first edition,
     awakening, guiding, nosing
     asymptote analogy steering

    reader toward nascent
scribe, where paper
     back writer wannabe,
     toils away incorporating subtle
     (hook, line and sinker) techniques,
(albeit apropos literary
     ploys, a true test tum ment,
viz sophisticated gambits

     to massage late tint
prestidigitation abra ca dab rah,
     sine non qua cogent
see kant, and tangent triggers
     modest mien fortified, exemplified,
     and downplayed akin
     to unassuming Clark Kent
in his cape ably nonchalant

     transformation into superman,
     and/or more pointedly,
     some original heft leant
to set apart striking 
     poignant implement
exhibited by aspiring 
     writer daily revising,
     albeit gal or gent

his/her uniquely obscure
     trademark, but 
     eventually keen agent
assays non-boastful writing style
     im prim mature print,
     sans unassuming swiftly tailored
     harried style seduces seek
     curing sincere overnight reverent,

well deserved kudos 
     comically marveling
     at thee most im portent
     salient strengths, per
     hops hue moored opulent
quality instigates 
     affinity toward nascent,
bar riddle be, bill leading,

     bud ding scrivener,
     not necessary alluding
     to a hypothetical outlier
thus, any similarity between the
     above statement and
     a living person perchance named
     Matthew Scott Harris
     purely coincidental.
Categories: prestidigitation, 11th grade, 12th grade,
Form: Narrative

Penelope Alecknavage

Penelope Alecknavage nee perskin whose death aye assay
to comprehend, this son of the late Harriet Harris - 
   November thirteenth 2016 marked her eighty first birthday
if she still lived these last eleven years - instead met crossway
where grim reaper awaited - though my mum sought to delay
futility to accept Pyrrhic outcome - homage pep rally
   thru poetry n essay
writing, and finding cadence of words 
   helps me (with powder milk biscuits) 
   gather courageous foray
   and means to grapple with demise 
   of a loved one, and hence my gray
matter sifts thru childhoods' end, 
   where remembrance of hooray
amidst claque of chattering aunts, cousins, and uncles
   the fuzzy interplay
of Penny racing at dog speed across lawn of family home
   cordoned off via a jackstay
looms in forefront of my mind, 
   vulnerable to grief most people sad - me, oh kay,
reckons cessation of life = equalizer of sorts
   when significant person without breath doth lay
Tom foolery deft hands of motley crue prestidigitation 
   playing game versus sobbing as corpse 
   driven to graveside viz motorway,
where belief at such stark catastrophe - nay
numbness pervades next of kin survivors
   especially when passing occurs pre-holiday,
yet no matter whence one departs 
   bobbing along River Styx to unreachable quay
mourning iz broken with nary sunny and Cher full ray
to warm earth, wind and fire - seeking soul asylum, 
   trying to blink away ill logic cheap trick re: acceptance, 
   but inxs of tears for fears begs scene 2b screenplay
   not hard rocking coldplay accursed reality
   terminal illness ushers helplessness cuz part of ourselves 
   agonizingly rent asunder, which psychic tearaway 
far exceeds any physical pain, and will underlay
the immediate future, which bodes hollow 
   with the sounds of silence
   despite informing musicians or veejay
to lighten moody blue - 
   boot invariably bono fide, green day, 
   Lady gaga emitting beat,
   per the human league (plus the culture club 
   of heart felt village people affiliated with goo goo doll    
   traversing into nirvana) 
   creates clangorous discordant ringing 
   increasing nostalgia for loved one lost before yesterday!
Categories: prestidigitation, absence, beautiful, bereavement, death,
Form: Ode

I Cannot Weight To Hmm

I Cannot Weight To Hmm...
Be Pressed By A Dumbbell

Two fifteen pound
     steely danse sing
     wrought iron dumbbells
     ill-tempered, impatiently,
     and intensely a weight
their turn to hmm... press me,
     and forthwith dense trait
heavy handed prestidigitation

     to yours truly, this primate
currently attempting
     to craft sad excuse
     for a poem, sans far fetched
     notion, aye trite re: late
engendering, foisting, and goading
     bizarre lifelike qualities
     to inanimate solid helpmate

to build (and/or oven
     just tone) muscles bitterly, painfully,
     resignedly wince, where washboard
     abdomen long a goner
     impossible to recoup, 
     whar hide didst narrate
ting hours sculpting great
former Adonis build

     on these, now nada so lovely
     bones, and experience 
     spiritual strife to oscillate,
     perhaps witness sing 
     angst to esse skill late
heady feeling healthy vim within
     myself, how just
     with verily at least dedicate

half hour exercise can be great
for body, mind, and
     soul triage, otherwise...
     basic gravitational laws
     of physics gladly
     hand me unwanted fate,
how gradually physique
     will eventually demonstrate

flabby, droopy, and
     unwanted addy post tissue create
ting another reason to berate,
castigate, emasculate, where
     self repudiation will germinate
(albeit, thence in extremis), yours truly
     doth relinquish fitness regime
     resulting sparking, and taste

     testing casus belli dictate
tête-à-tête, viz hasty
     unconditional surrender to
     a void mortal kombat,
     which latter, would exterminate,
the forces of yin and yang,
     re: lee (I rub hurts) loch cur,
     thence finding me fraught,

     (yule hiss see - uselessly)
     grant ting soul 
     option to disintegrate,
in the event emotional civil war,
rents asunder every fiber
     of mine being, which
    wrath wracked wraith self destruction 
     twill woefully satiate.
Categories: prestidigitation, angst, appreciation, dad, endurance,
Form: Free verse

Spring Season Serves As Natural Antidote

Sunshine undulates across verdant plain
casting dark shadows ushering twilight zone
ringing athwart tree trunks
invigorating, joyously kickstarting, 
and plenti revitalizing
bountiful nature buzzfeeding 

vim, vinegar  and *****
caressing, massaging, and palpating with
soundlessness inducing bub bully giddy,
and sudsy spongy schmaltzy
harmonic livingsocial kerplunk
also intoxicating this perk o' late

ting teetotaler, no longer ginger
who doth oft times ale
with melancholic funk,
whereat imbibing nectar
of the Gods with fulfillment
temporarily quicken ends euphoric,
albeit 'pon firm meant soberly drunk.

Ah...nothing more uplifting
than (Anita Bryant raisin eyebrows) 
plugging sunkist orange treat,
this sensate being privy,
sans front row seat
agog at orchestral, festival, viz

choral paean courtesy sweet
flora and fauna feat
bequeathed to Mother Earth,
a requiem pulsating with heartbeat
pitch perfect exultation
glorifying spring days soon obsolete

ethereal, ideal, and
sensational tonic to gin
prestidigitation, qua
natural psychological helpmeet
pleasant distraction with intent to read
temporarily placating, needling craving

for Pete sakes daily 
fix this news junkie,
trembling when complete
awareness he doth accrete,

where quite glum, how
civilization didst mistreat
planet, hence feeling downbeat,
especially haunting ghosts of
Native Americans drumbeat
signal harbinger debacle

i.e. environmental doomsday
soon fated extinction
sealed and complete
inexorably inching closer to reality

necessitating superman to defeat
global warming rendering vast swaths
uninhabitable as Gaia global
temperature packs tremendous heat!
Categories: prestidigitation, appreciation, beauty, butterfly, earth,
Form: Pastoral

About Twenty Two Score Years Ago

About Twenty Two Score Years Ago...

One “FAKE” rumor purports April Fools’ Day
accepted with hostile abandonment
according to Giggle ling search result
conducted by this gent
adopted when France switched

rather than fight abolishment
transitioning from Julian calendar
to Gregorian calendar,
(yet maintaining same gender reassignment)
called for by the Council of Trent

Lot affecting chronological abridgement
forthrightly, immediately, and
magically decreeing making
with flourish of inkhorn - prestidigitation
"poof" quite few months absent

necessitating rejiggering
displaced vanished days forcing
latter time keeping paradigm absorbent,
asper sands of time no matter such
figurative tectonic shift population

aghast at August accomplishment
and probably did March in protest,
cuz entire season,
sans couture accouterment
suddenly rendered obsolete and unfashionable

manually crafted, swiftly tailored, and
harry styled clothes no mean achievement,
and uninformed folks got hashtagged
kindled, and named plenti admonishment
visited on their person such as

bumsteads, dolts, fools, et cetera
howling guffaws when derriere adornment
slapped with "kick me steady bum,"
or stuck with tail like appurtenances
eventually this "FAKE" – advancement

ha ha April fools historical joke
became embedded tradition inn advertent
lee established meshugas, where Jews
and especially gentiles went meshugoyim
generating cottage (cheesy) gum mint industry,

and brisk business for nascent advertisement
industry, (albeit handily horse drawn
attention grabbing kiln fired tablets)
mainly for (Philly buzzfeed string) affluent,
who secured lifelong gentlemen's agreement
with artisan, and of apprenticed trumpeting sons

(after tithe thing allotment) earnings
portion squirrelled away for rainy
May Day festivities ambient
brouhaha babushka's celebrating divine comedy
21st century poet tindered mild amusement
regarding this "FAKE" flight of fancy!
Categories: prestidigitation, april, art, celebration, day,
Form: Narrative

Air Borne

When I was three foot tall I could fly.
Now that I've reached near six and descending
things have become more, grounded.
It wasn't an aeronautical event or
some Newtonian physics explanation,
or even a Las Vegas prestidigitation,

it was merely that my mind, that is to say I,
could entertain the obvious conclusion
of the possibility that if events, things,
were just right - JUST right, that I 
would be able to see a view I had not
seen up to that point in time, and,
in fact, haven't, for some time.

When I was a yard high in my front yard,
I could arise, even higher than a yard,
brightened, and too, wide-eyed wondering 
at the way the neighborhood looked from
above the treetops...who knew, I thought.

Did I get there by that some certain gait,
neither too fast nor too slow, but, 
like some Goldilocks visa, just right?
The sunshine vitamin D blowing breezily
around porch poles and branches to press my face.

Who knew indeed, who knows now, or soon,
what can occur without Google glasses,
or no child left behind or 
digital synapses to bit-by-bit,
obscure the inherent, the wonder, the view
borne away from civilization facts
to life outside or, above our gravitations.

When I descend toward a vertical yard again,
maybe that obscurant vision-set I have 
carried pensioned toward epilogue will
fall away like deciduous leaves and 
I'll be able to see the branches under
life, and rise away again.

© Goode Guy 2013-07-05
© Goode Guy  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: prestidigitation, childhood, introspection, youth,
Form: Narrative
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