Best Pretentiousness Poems
Without gravity
there would be no fallen angels
the something that always
pulls me back to you
love at first sight
it was gravity
not the earth pulling me to you...
I wish to be your word
the logos
your alpha and omega
to write I love you
in hieroglyphics
three bird letters...
Balanced are we
by mutual attraction
in circles we spin
the dance of lovers
we are a Tibetan mantra
the smile our bodies make...
Gravity is an affinity
the attraction of one thing to another
as a planet to a star
me to you...
Approaching infinity
Theta or love
harmony out of chaos
instead of the big bang
maybe it was more
like a feminine sigh
a sweet song
like a breeze in a field..
Love pulls me like gravity
to the smell of your hair
to the sound of your voice
taste of your lips
cool nights by the sea...
with you the stars
come closer at night
in your eyes of reflection
I sink into infinity
infinite delicate elements
glaring at the stars for evidence...
A space without pretentiousness
infinity is endless
gravity a symphony played brilliantly
loving you is divinity...
~ ~
Categories:
pretentiousness, beautiful, love, space, planet,
Form:
Free verse
Oh hearken to me Destroyer of Poets
With heart in hand I declare my feelings
Without pretentiousness humbly kneeling
Thou art the greatest and now I show it
In verse for all so they shall to know it
My desire for you I've been concealing
Conversations with you left me reeling
I'm amazed how you remain so stoic
So beautiful, so gracious, and funny
Promptly greeting then eating newcomers
Wittiness and charm forever ascends
You cast the longest shadow when sunny
And call out those duplicitous bummers
I'm glad we've decided to be good friends
Italian Sonnet rhyme scheme abba abba cde cde
an original poem by the "poemdog" Daniel Turner
For my friend Linda "Poet Destroyer"
Categories:
pretentiousness, emotions, friendship, funny love,
Form:
Italian Sonnet
GRAPPLING WITH GRATITUDE
Oh Gratitude,
Gentle as a butterfly.
You alight upon
my emotional reverie
to birth my questioning.
You have risen
as an inward glow
of unexpected proportions,
ready to bleed silently
into my emotional pores.
Oh Gratitude, ,
I sense your presence,
your cautious ambivalence
that yearns to express
some mystical feeling
of unknown origin.
You pull and play
inside my mind like chimes
against an autumn wind.
Oh Gratitude,
Can I truly appreciate
the acrobatic dance
so easily played,
that allows me to indulge
in nature's grand banquet?
And if so, shall I now,
in repetition, repeat phrases
that glorify and recognize
the splendor of existence;
or, do I ignore, the bounty
of a creation little understood?
Oh Gratitude,
Should I dismiss your pretentiousness,
those gaily colored brush strokes
of memory frescoes embedded
on the walls of my mind?
Or will you, gratitude,
be the expressions of thoughts
confined to a limited time;
all held in hostage to a holiday season’s
heightened senses of roasting fowl
curried with fragrant flavors?
Oh Gratitude,
When the holiday day is done
and I am appeased,
will I still commemorate
the theology of my brethren
who suggest I thank my creator
with 100 daily blessings?
CAK 11-13-2013
Categories:
pretentiousness, celebration, deep, feelings, holiday,
Form:
Free verse
He Weeps
By Dane Smith-Johnsen
Holiness harnessed haughtiness.
Heaven's honor hallows humans.
Heavenly hopes happily hail.
Enemies, earnestly enchant.
Endless errors evoke evil.
Exhilaration empowers.
Wait with God while wild wiles weaken.
Whisk away wrath and wretchedness.
Weep whenever wonder withers.
Enemies endeavor evil.
Empathy erases errors.
Exalted ethos enlivens
Endure. Esteem eternity.
Enjoy ecstasy endlessly.
Exalt essence everlasting.
Prideful prancing produces pain.
Particularly preceding
Pretentiousness pomposity.
Sagacity seeks soul's sagas.
Subliminal soothing sojourns.
Sweetest souls’ salvation survives.
Categories:
pretentiousness, faith, inspirational
Form:
Alliteration
To feel worthless and lost
can be the worst defeat;
don't wear that look of pretentiousness
it takes away every joy and sweetness!
No, there's no deep affection of woman ,
that once those lips whispered sweetly,
and that magical glow could never be broken:
I put my trust and faith in you so sincerely!
My existence is hunted by demons,
no hell is more frightful than mine;
my sleep is nights of unrestfulness:
don't lay next to me without desire!
No, there's no deep affection of woman,
nor that love that made me fall suddenly;
even my despair breaks me down slowly:
I barely smile, and I often cry out in pain!
Isn't it strange for us to make believe all is fine?
Isn't it hypocritical to hold onto a lie and go on?
Don't fake ecstasy when there's no deep affection
of woman that offers a happiness little divine!
There's no deep affection of woman
in whatever you may give or say,
ah, this spell must be broken:
I'll be free to love anybody!
Categories:
pretentiousness, anger, anxiety, emotions, fear,
Form:
Lyric
Sidewalks are full of people, yet no eyes do mine meet;
Taxis, by the thousands, litter the city street;
The sun is blocked out by high-rises with business men in suits;
I am a lost and lonely cowboy, with no place to wear my boots.
I ride the subway from Soho, up to Central Park;
In search of Mother Nature, pretending the pigeon is a lark;
Surrounded by millions – never have I felt so all alone;
I am bored of Manhattan and I hunger for my Western home.
I came looking for excitement; I came looking for a job;
I came looking for myself – now, I’m just lost among the mob;
Who knew that in Manhattan, with such diversity,
A simple, bumpkin cowboy would get bored with the big city?
I am bored of Manhattan, and all of its pretentiousness,
But I haven’t got the money to return to what I miss,
So, me and my guitar play songs in Times Square,
Drop some coin in my guitar case, so I can skedaddle out of here.
Written and posted 1/5/2016
Categories:
pretentiousness, america, city, , western,
Form:
Rhyme
You want to know what annoyeth me? Let me count the ways!
I could weave a veritable tapestry of all my aggravations, mostly in
light and deep crimson hues which signify the violence in my Heart.
Easily I could write a novel that reads like a laundry list of everything that
vex me to no fathomable End.
Pretentiousness, which is the ultimate Sin of Sins, maddens me more
than mere meager words can describe or accurately articulate. An example, perhaps?
Someone who claims to be a better poet than Shakespeare! Such heinous poetic heresy and blatant blasphemy! ONE WORD: HA!
Let's see...what else? Oh, how I loath- despise! an unannounced and
unexpected visitor, a "knock, knock" that sends shivers, like shards of glass,
down my disturbed spine. Yes, I know all about Jesus. No, I don't want to come to your church but I'll smile, be polite and friendly as I decline the invitation, then send you off on your merry way to pester someone else with your nonsense and throw your "literature" in the trash. I wish I lived in an impregnable fortress surrounded by a moat and guarded by ten-thousand Pinkerton Guards. They never sleep.
Driving, what a bedeviling task! Anyone remember the old video game "Spy Hunter" where your vehicle was equipped with bombs and lasers and such? How I wish my car had a machine gun or rocket-launcher turret to get everyone out of my way! Going too slow? KABOOM! Didn't use your turn signal? Ratta-tat-tat-tat-tat-t-a-t-t...-a...-t. So long, buster!
Bad hair-do's are ALMOST as sinful and unforgivable as pretentiousness. I cannot abide a bad hair-do. It's a good thing I'm not a socio/psychopathic autocrat or I would have anyone with an offensive coif shot on sight. When I was in school and big, poofy Aqua-Net shellac soaked , giant crunchy big bangs were all the rage, I took great delight in smashing those immense, granite-like monstrous and monumental mega-pompadours. Some of those do's were hard as bricks, like they were surrounded and protected by some kind of hair force-field. I demolished many a poof in my youth!
This diatribe is just the tip of the proverbial iceberg. I could on and on and on and on and on and on...but I'll trail off here...
*What Annoys You Contest Entry*
JustThatArchaicPoet
Categories:
pretentiousness, anger, angst, how i
Form:
Narrative
Sinister intentions are met with solitude
A ghastly grin greets the grimy windows
And who knows where the words will begin
But we all know they'll end in some awful rhyme
So forced and juvenile we'll be shaking our heads
And clucking our teeth in frustration
At the pretentiousness of it all
And for every tower a writer builds
He feels he'll never fall from his bloated heights
Where he looks down
And sees those far more talented than he
Perhaps this fills him with anger
A seething heat that boils his blood
Or maybe he seeks opportunity in the words of the wise
And begins the ungraceful fall off his perch
Perhaps one is lost in some misguided arrogance
Even as they reject the notion of possessing skill
And there is a fleeting moment before hitting the ground
Where the writer should realize his place
He's nothing more than a mere mortal
And his fatal flaw is believing in his written word
And believing that such an unpracticed poet
Could stand next to the likes of Poe
For he is a walking fallacy
So conceited in his desire to write
That he often abandons the written word
Believing the words will come when they come
And until then his thoughts will languish
As he sucks the fruits of yesterday's labor
He's nothing more than a glorified failure
Who never amounted to anything more
Than a seething high school bleeding heart
With words that followed no form
With stanzas that rejected common sense
With cliche tacked on to cliche
With aspirations of grandeur
He's just the feeding fodder
For those who give him the mercy
Of observing his written word
And giving him a reluctant pat on the back
Even while preparing the guillotine
The truth is that he is a masochist
Sifting through painful verse time and again
Hoping that something will stick
Just hoping he'll find the words
When all too often they reject him
For deep down he is truly ambitious
But he has no dedication to the craft
His pen is a half a stroke away from retirement
Categories:
pretentiousness, conflict, humorous, hyperbole, nonsense,
Form:
Free verse
Dear Id,
Once again, I find my mind making the same journey into your deepest ocean of questions I can never fathom. So many times I've told myself it's such a complete waste of time to even cast my cares upon your unyielding waters. I have been utterly lost for days at a time trying to find my way back through the labyrinth of my mind. The air feels heavy and breathing has nothing to do with want or desire. For as long as I can remember, my reflection has been as an ever evolving meaningless Rorschach. No identifiable constants, just a tangled mess of emotion with a gaping hole of disappointment in the life experience. I ask myself, "Is this it?" The overwhelming outpouring of human pretentiousness and superficiality leaves me dying of starvation for anything real! Will it even matter? How can I miss something I've never known and be so instinctually convinced there is more? Enlighten me!
Truly,
Frustrated and Unfulfilled
Categories:
pretentiousness, anxiety, conflict, emotions, psychological,
Form:
Free verse
Through forded streams, nostalgia seems, to be a sense of Nordic Dreams
The pathways to yesterdays, appear to retreat to ample schemes.
Broken nails and nightingales lighten up your brooks and streams.
Take a lock of broken stock to see what truly seems.
Lilt repose in lily throws, is knocking at my silken chair
Through the slits, the moonlight sits, its gaze upon my flaxen hair.
Opportunity flaunts as debutantes, in appearance gracefully debonair.
Gentle words floating from the birds, act upon me without a care
As a white dove from above, with beads of honey running wild
I withdrew to be with you, for words that are Coleridge styled.
They come in turn, to gently discern, and then gather into a pile.
In a continuum, within this kingdom, they come at us all the while.
Though they seem as in a dream, to be of pure fantasy;
if I believe, I may conceive, to have them become reality.
They may seem far as a distant star, but may be in propinquity.
Permanence in ascertainments, can be a hallmark of destiny.
They address as they coalesce, the storefront pretentiousness
in giving description, within inscription, with literary prowess.
Words convey, contained in a foray, upon the domain of impressiveness,
they are contained as they remained, as acknowledged in cohesiveness.
All the rhymes during the times, taste as sweet as butter creams.
As a scribe would inscribe, the essence of moonbeams
In our yesterday, and today, written on papyrus reams
Both fantasy and reality, within the nostalgia of Nordic Dreams.
Categories:
pretentiousness, fantasywords, may, nostalgia,
Form:
Rhyme
It is amazing how many super important people there are in my hometown!
At almost any intersection, I will be eclipsed by at least 2-3 individuals who are cooler
Than I could ever aspire to think to become.
Lately I see them everywhere!
They look just like the people on the covers of those high quality magazines I see
In line at the grocery store when I am buying my crate of ramen noodles, and
The 4 for $5 Bar-S brand hot dogs.
I can't help but to think, "WOW! Why haven't I seen any of these people on t.v. yet?"
My adulation for people like Newton, the Incas, Brahmms, Klimt has been misplaced!
Just when I felt like a wart infested slug for my lack of awareness,
A gracious miracle occurred:
This girl/woman/tranny pulled up next to me at a long traffic light.
She wore those wonderful Jackie-o knock offs that almost cover the entire face,
Making her nose look like this teensy-weensy little button!
The a.c. blew her hair around like she was in a photo shoot, and
After removing the cell phone that had neurally implanted itself to her head,
She stared straight ahead, as if in a trance.
I was sure that she was probably in deep thought concerning ways to feed starving babies,
Or contemplating the lines for her next secret audition that only she knows about.
Once the light turned chartreuse, she accelerated like a photon;
This is when I noticed the scintillating rims that resembled the UFO that I communicated with
Down by irrigation ditch the day before.
This was a sign... I had to catch up with her and share this knowledge!
I followed her the length of the city until she finally pulled
Her behemoth into some swanky day spa that had no airs of pretentiousness whatsoever.
It was weird because as I approached her vehicle, I began to sputter and stammer
All of my words; I even began to inexplicably lurch as I walked towards her.
When she saw me her eyes widened to the size of coffee saucers, and
The next thing I knew was there were these wires attached to my chest!
Suddenly I was dreaming of the time I ate mushrooms and touched a frayed cord
On an alarm clock.
When I awoke on the hot asphalt, my seraph had vanished into a mid afternoon haze.
I had to give a toothy smile though- I knew that my body just couldn't handle the intensity
Of her heavenly nimbus!
Categories:
pretentiousness, adventurepeople, day, me, people,
Form:
Free verse
An Unwelcome Surprise at the Family Reunion
By Elton Camp
“We certainly do hope that all his descendents will choose
To attend the reunion of the family of Grandfather Hughes.”
The newspaper announced the gathering’s time & location
To recall and praise a man so distinguished, with admiration
Grandfather has been a prominent and wealthy physician
Who had all that was expected of a man in his position
He and Grandmother resided in a most imposing estate
They were tended by maids, butlers and servants galore
For an honored ancestor they couldn’t really ask for more
But I must admit that most relatives looked down their nose
At those who didn’t have, as a noble ancestor, one of those
For snobs to say, “Of course you know that I am a Hughes”
Was a request for deference that very few would dare refuse
The family gathering began in the ballroom of the finest hotel
Men with tuxes and women in long dresses, looking so swell
All, their professions, wealth and accomplishments did mention
To inspire jealously with pretentiousness was their intention
At that moment, a family of blacks walked through the door
Their very presence the Hughes family did quite openly abhor
“It is obvious that you people made a mistake in coming here.
The service entrance for menial hotel workers is in the rear.”
“You mean this here ain’t the Hughes family’s big meeting?
I thought it was high time that my relatives I was greeting.”
Through the room gasps and expressions of outrage spread
Two fine ladies fainted away almost as if they were dead
The oldest Hughes came over and quietly grasped his arm
“Let me show you out so that the reunion you don’t alarm.
Your mistake is natural and it’s not any cause for blame.
Many unrelated people actually will share the same name.”
“No, no this is the place I meant to come I definitely know.”
The black man then extended his hand and called him “bro”
“You are mistaken man, for it is clear that you are a spade.”
“Only partly, bro. My father was from Mr. Hughes’ maid.”
Because of that, the reunion was never held any more
The Hughes clan felt it couldn’t be as it had been before
Bigotry was proved stronger than family ties that way
At least that is what all others in town did laugh and say
Categories:
pretentiousness, family, family, people, grandmother,
Form:
Rhyme
The Best Thing You Had...
May 27, 2013
"Frankly Speaking" I can't hide my kindness? My exterior says tough; Yet, for some reason you looked right pass that!
I did not intend to care-or to love or to march on beat- or to become unhinged.
Can I hide my eyes? Why are you not afraid- Why doesn't my indifference offend you? Before now, not even months ago, I was shrouded in beauty; Which I thought was the reason for your endearment.
This time I am now withered - No way for her to see the big deal you saw in me. Beauty nor homeliness is not allowed to not stand in the way of progress - I was your means to an end- Then after she asked after me. You spoke ill of me said, that I was "nothing to write home about “. By then I'd come to know That I was your "best kept secret ".
She has stolen me from you like a thief creeping in the shadows. As a good friend, she had to ask you to make sure that her next move would be fair' She ask after me again - As she was one of your uppity friends that coveted whatever you were doing.
You knew what it was- ' She knew there was more to me than met the eyes, and so did you. So, the day you all went sailing on your yacht is when you deceitfully gave her your presumptuous assessment of my worth.
She in turn revealed to me of your “cum si -cum saw” pretentiousness. She told me she would do better by me and how unappreciative you were. She came to rescue me. And we stole away to the Boca-Raton.
And the best thing you had was now gone.! Even though my survival instincts and my ability to turn nothing into something. Still pays off for you.
Now you had the profit all to yourself ... Although I think about it often,I bet you never had a clue.
Yet with all you knew,when she asks you about me, the backbone of your spineless spine: The truth could have been told --and we could have been fine-
We are sharing the memories of those days separately. Maybe you know now why I left you with your "mangoes ", I never told you the secrets in my sauce. As I am just "FRANKLY SPEAKING"
(tid-bits of my life)
Copyright © Vicki Acquah | Year Posted 2013
Categories:
pretentiousness, history, how i feel,
Form:
Blank verse
Squalidness—Squabbling squeamishly;
Scrutinizing stigmatized scandalization, substantially scarce
Sprightliness...skeptically surrendering
Shamefully—Scolded sardonically;
Snarling splenetically, severing sensibility, scowlingly simmering
Strenuously...sought survival
Sparring—Sinister sisters;
Seductively swiveling soreness, sarcastically snared, swirling
Storms...sporadically striking
Slowly—Sacrificing stories;
Scorching slanderous subversiveness, suffering suffocation
Senselessly...smoldering serendipity
Sinfully—Silent stranger;
Sneaking skillfully staring
Presumptuously—Pursuing pretentiousness;
Promises protruding pithiness,
Potential problems...penetrating
Frantically—Forsaken fantasizes foresee;
Different Man Flourishing...
Suspiciously—Supplication solicited;
Subjectively settling, storms subdue, spontaneously subsiding
Surprisingly...sanctuaries submerged
Sobriety—Soaked scathingly;
Staleness spun savagely, strangely straying, sprung
Scourging...southern spiral
Suddenly—Solitude strangling;
Shallow significants seedily surrounds scrupulousness, slumbering
Spitefulness...shunning sympathy
Systematically—Struggling swiftly;
Skulking shadows slithering, seized sanity, seething
Stragglers scrapping...smuggling
Supposedly—Soberness swarming;
Sunrises selectively swerving, sunsets scattering
Emotionally—Erraticism encouraged;
Enduring essential enemies,
Equivocal excursions...escalating
Hereupon—Heretics hushed hereafter;
Different Man Henceforth...
Relentlessly—Reaping ramifications;
Remorsefully relapsing regrettably, resentful realization recognizing
Reflection...refusing reality
Condescendingly—Condemning contradictions;
Cautiously concealing contortions, conducting contrived conniptions
Conscientiously...capricious consciousness
Arrogantly—Acquiring awareness;
Ignorantly ignoring ideologies, deceitful dramatic disagreements
Transpire...transitioning transgressions
Occasionally—Ostracizing occurs;
Overthinking orchestrates overreactions, obsessively obtaining optimization
Brazenly—Begged, blindingly became;
Different Man Behindhand...
Categories:
pretentiousness, how i feel, me,
Form:
Free verse
On the sidewalks of beautiful and opulent Waikiki,
in step with the wealth of nations,
a homeless society, lapping at the scraps,
sleeping in doorways and beach park benches ,
amongst affluent foreigners,
under cover of shady scenic banyon trees.
She wanders elite avenues in search of her oasis,
dripping with the pretentiousness,
of a Starbucks cafe gourmet
she mused,
sipping a double mocha latte with extra froth,
topped with shaved chocolate ,
and a "touch"of Madagascar cinnamon
from a hot- cold cup,
that she holds with shaking hands,
dirty, broken nails
and then she dabs at the corners of penciled lips,
outlined several times in contrasting color,
with a bit of the sleeve of her second hand denim designer jacket.
Putting the cup down and picking up the designer copy of a pen that skips occasionally,
needing to be tapped on the edge of the table,
she pauses for thought and begins to compose a napkin sonnet for a needy friend
Categories:
pretentiousness, life, on writing and
Form:
Free verse