Best Proportioned Poems


The Malkavian..Part 1

The Malkavian..Part 1

His mind has all the meaning of a madman that is screaming
Tortured and tormented, a life lived to be lamented 
His family, drained and defeated, finally retreated 
Leaving him believing that he was beyond redeeming 
The doctors sent in talked of hope and healing  
The drugs administered only made him more demented  
Cementing the feeling, that his life is just an echo 
Of the endless, timeless, all consuming screaming 

His best friend is a dis-proportioned bird appropriately named Buddy 
Who’s monotonous motion in drinking is somewhat soothing to his being 
Though not potent enough to stop the persistent pounding of the screaming 
Often he stared into the emptiness of nothingness contemplating the beauty of its 
existence 
Only to find his mind is drowning in a confounding conundrum he can’t quite define 
It's hard to be philosophical when your mental testicles haven’t dropped to the appropriate 
level 
So sometimes he whispers tongue twisters until his brain blisters 
Madmen mask madness in mindless task of mass mayhem 

It was easy for him to pretend to be prim and proper 
Just a mask to don in order to dupe his doctor 
Circumventing the system that couldn't’t save him 
He was as he always had been and would be 
In constant pain and agony with no desire for sympathy 
Just in need of some freedom from his prisons and medications
Meditations and mantras had given him a sentiment of a design
On how to inhibit the screaming and maybe even end it
\
Four years preparing and plotting the perfect moment of promise 
A fire formed from a single flame fueled by an accelerant 
Raced through the halls up the walls and killed all the residents 
Eighty-eight inmates and staff burned alive in what seemed like and instant
Such little time to search through the bodies looking for a single person 
He found her on the fourth floor clinging to the bathroom faucet 
He lost his virginity to the burnt corpse of nurse Denise 
And to his amazed mind he was astonished to find the  screaming was silenced
© Nate D.  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Ice Cream Store

As you open the door...
you are momentarily transported
back to an innocent child like state.
Your concentration wavers 
as your senses react like a 4th of July
firework display.
Large, colorful posters cover the walls
surrounding you...
offering tasty descriptions of many of the items.
All the while the scents of chocolate, fruit, 
along with a variable feast of
confectionery delights are taken in 
with every breath.
You look around...it's almost your turn.
You must decide...but it can not be taken lightly,
or simply blurted out in a moment of desperation.
The moment has arrived as you step up to the counter.
As eye contact is made,
your mind gives second thoughts to your selection.
Taking a deep breath, you calm yourself...
you can do this you tell yourself,
as the words start to form.
" I'll have a scoop of chocolate chip mint...a scoop of fudge nut brownie,
and a scoop of strawberry cheesecake in a
chocolate waffle cone dish...topped with a modest swirl of whip cream
and hot caramel drizzle, crowned with one perfectly positioned cherry."
Your mouth waters as you take possession of your masterpiece.
As you turn, you look proudly at the others in line,
letting them see your perfectly proportioned glacial reward.
As you grab your spoon, you waste no time leaving,
changing back into an adult, climb back in your car
to feast privately...like a hungry mouse hiding...
eating the last piece of cheese.

                       P.R.Deremer

Nek Minnit

I see you in the distance quite stunning are are to my eye's,
I start to check you up and down I think an angel has arrived.

Lovely slender legs and curvy little waist,
nicely proportioned bust, amazing grace.

As you slowly get closer my heart skips a beat,
flicking your beautiful long brown hair so I can gaze upon your face.

I quickly turn my head away,
I just can't believe my eye's.

That sexy attractive women I thought you were, 
Nek Minnit, your a guy.

Shame!!


Contest:	ANY 2012 POEM any theme/any form max of 18 lines - Brian Strand

M.Mahauariki © 2012


Premium Member My Dream of Uni-Belle

I am a dreamer literally for I dream a lot
With most of them remembered, few of them forgot.
My dreams are always based in reality,
Although quite mixed up they often tend to be.

But this particular dream I had just yesterday,
Was different from all the rest, I have to say.
I've never dreamed before of a fantasy creature;
Never before has fantasy entered as a feature.

It seems, in my dream I had a unicorn,
The cutest little horse with a little horn.
She was pure white like I've never seen,
Whiter than the snow, all fresh and clean.

Perfectly proportioned, rather small in size,
Maybe seven hands at her withers, I would surmise.
She knew she held a place confirmed in my heart.
She was a delight to watch and so very smart.

Her soft and low nickering never let me fear
Her presence was very far but always close and near.
She'd nuzzle me gently for treats and for pets.
Such a joy to me, she brought me no regrets.

The center of attention she really loved to be
And all her little antics were amusing to see.
Her moves so graceful, a ballerina couldn't beat;
She pranced like there was air underneath her feet.

She would stamp her little foot, toss her head around,
Let her little haunches drop 'til they met the ground.
Then her little muzzle she would lift up towards the sky,
As she'd neigh the cutest whinny with a pitch rather high.

I loved to hear her whinny, a delight to my ear
And she would whinny, be expecting then to hear
A response from me in the language that she spoke,
But as I replied with a whinny, sadly I awoke.

Now I'm left to wonder why she came to me
In a dream so surreal, as though reality.
A reason for I seek, since my dreams often do foretell,
But about this one I am puzzled of my little Uni-Belle.

Written by Artsieladie/Sharon Donnelly
©2018-04-05 23:55:00 (EDT)
All rights reserved.

Premium Member Friendship's Crown

Does Nox hold sway where you sit or lay,
or stand blanketed in deep fog's clime?
Where perfectly proportioned physical deformity holds 
in substantive and coddled awe' sublime.   

Shrouded in shot from fusil's beautiful dark pall,  
far from heredity's nameless and shameless hall. 

We walked as friends, along a stoney ledge
talking of women and lofty soul's reprisal'd pledge.
Wore separate clothes, to separate mothers
we cling'd,
free of our father's shadow at last. 
    
Yet in time..
if your beliefs differ from mine
will you still call me brother?
We are so few since wreck and ruin,
should hate ever.,
take us away one another.

I'd never turn against, you have my word,
no matter the seizur'd absence of mind.
For it held strong our promised bond,
and for it, 
prefer neck to the sword.

No crowning achievement in sorrows my truth,
faithful friendship strong as any belief,
more than life it's a simple us I hold to.,
for w'out us there'd be no more we.

Hyperbole of Beauty

Your ocular perceivers are the most resplendent ones ever kenned to mankind, they are as abstruse as the ocean and yet so captivating, The word dainty was engendered when they have no words for your lips, Your smile gladdens the heart of a man as wine gladdens mans heart, Your voice bring ecstasy and drives out sorrows within the soul of the hearer, Your face is the most elegant impeccably proportioned in appearance, if an artist is to do one final piece of art, they would be probing for you because they ken it would be the impeccable piece. Your personality is so genial, fun, doting, and so alluring. Viewing your disrobement is like a thunderbolt of sexual pleasure even a dysfunctional man will stand erect by the view, Your voluptuous body is more than that of a damsel and Aphrodite is less resplendency compare to you. I feel like I fulminated you cause I have degrade your resplendency by defining, describing, and comparing you with words of comeliness. You are not to be compared by or describe by any man. Cause your resplendency is that kind of resplendency beyond description. You are crafted by God himself, the greatest artist of all time. Thanks to your father and mother for not utilizing condom to bring out the definition of comeliness into this earth. You are the hyperbole of resplendency.


Newcastle Upon Tyne, England

NEWCASTLE  UPON  TYNE,    ENGLAND

Half-Scot,  half-English  and  ill at ease with the past,
Newcastle is sooty black from its coaly drama, 
And  the breathless town was always  in a hurry to grow, 
Narrowly avoiding  destruction of its past or leaping  over it.

Up on the plateau, industrial power-engine city:
Its earlier  Norman Castle and Black Gate narrowly missed  
By  the frenetic  hammers  of  eager   Victorian builders. 
Elegantly-proportioned  Grainger Street  and Central Rail Station 
Pause unwillingly to admit the  Scottish-style  lantern-spired
Sandstone  cathedral  with its delicate shade of sooty industrial black. 

Down at the riverside  - an earlier  town of shipyards and arms factories,
Quayside warehouses with watertight flood-doors,
Its precipitous  narrow  old port-streets  carved into the gorge walls
And pierced by cold winds from the North Sea,
Is leaped over by a platoon of  high-level  metal bridges.  
Across the Tyne, inelegant, they grab the opposite bank and bind the city to England.


…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………



NOTE:     1    Newcastle is situated on the north ( = Scottish ) side of the River Tyne.  
                     The town was an epicenter of the Industrial Revolution, 
                     with  coal, steel, chemical,  engineering, and shipbuilding
                     industries, and was also a major seaport.
                     
               2    Norman Castle, Black Gate   are remnants of a pre-medieval  past.
               
               3    Grainger Street, Central Rail Station are 19th century redeveloped areas.
               
               4    Cathedral   (St. Nicholas)  dates  from  14th century.

Auburn

It is thy wanton gestures that contrive inside long auburn
curls -
Wherefore to diminish the pleas of a warm, lustful
breeze!
For though gilded rays shall grace all thy sunlit days 
Tis Moonstrucks cast beams, your mischiefs, 
That did so deceive.

Happily ye wander through Midnights velvet vales...
Thus to bathe in the still of deep glades shimmering pools;
Gently smile as the White Hart confuses at the Nightjar,
Laugh joyfully as he gleefully barks within a Huntresses
muse.

Whence, entwining abouts your lithe-liken limbs,
Enchanting currents that confound upon like curvaceous 
streams:-
Flawlessly proportioned, highbred, temperate form
Of palest earthborn Athenian figurine.

And ere those coy sighs should but just once countenance 
Mortal compromise
Through your countless ages of fair queens and fabled kings -
Then, at some singular point in trickling sands spatial time,
If my heart beat against thine...wouldst thy charge me astride 
Great Pegasusus wings?

So recline thou, betwixt sharp earth and Heavens eternal 
skies,
Thoust art serenaded by forlorn winds that forsakenly
Beseech upon your divine name -
For the raging fires of burning stars were lit to blaze
In thine eyes
By thee fearful architect who moulded immortal clay 
To thy perfectly sculptured frame!

Carmen Lucia Ruby

Peter loved his wife Carmen Lúcia
                             Their love 's color was tranquil fuchsia 
                                 Their love took shape in Mogok
                                    In depth of the Mother rock
                                     Big red ruby-poem of Gaia










HISTORY
The Smithsonian's National Museum of Natural History in Washington, D.C. has received one of the world's largest and finest ruby gemstones. The 23.1 carats (4.62 g) Burmese ruby, set in a platinum ring with diamonds, was donated by businessman and philanthropist Peter Buck in memory of his late wife Carmen Lúcia. This gemstone displays a richly saturated red color combined with an exceptional transparency. The finely proportioned cut provides vivid red reflections. The stone was mined from the Mogok region of Burma (now Myanmar) in the 1930s.




Precious Stones and Gems - Poetry Contest 
Sponsor:Anthony Slausen
Poet: Rajat Kanti Chakrabarty
Form: Limerick
Theme: Love, Ruby, Precious stone

I Drained Life of Its Fullness

I drained life of its fullness...
not pricing its worthiness,
leaving nicks in the prime of youth:
deceitful tricks to ignore every truth.

I imitated parody to conceal identity,
thus making it forgery my priority;
and the masked nobleman acted out his
infamous burlesque play, ridiculing Fay...
knowing that her unrhymed lines  
were intently borrowed from clowns,
not from gifted writers with clever minds;
did they bray when they were blamed for the delay?
 
My intent was not a merited Godsent or lofty thought
perceived by a gladiator who held the wilt
of his sword proportioned to his solid built, 
but rather ridden by a guilt which had a powerful force to jilt
me when I was reduced to tears by my peers for my peculiar tilt.  


Written on 12/12/2016

Your Querencia and Why Your Not Quitting

Could you imagine,
A face like that?
Created by the face of an angel
And modeled like fashion
For the damned and deceased.
A respected locksmith,
Drunk on insomnia and aging,
Kissing the pavement
With bare and busied feet.
The Brazilian beauty
Who prides herself as
The representative of blushing.
The one who catches the bouquet
By chance and
Throws it away before anyone notices.
But on a theory in a slip of time,
Before the extinct proposition
And an oddly proportioned new born,
Curls a quivering life form
In the belly of this woman so sweet.
Born from innocence and named Mary,
For the sake of Jesus.
She is not 36 nor is she 16
Yet she is at the fruitful age of 57.
And at 57,
This symbol of love and innocence
Is fumbling with the curiosity
Of breast feeding her unborn child
That wiggles and withers with frailty
Inside of her.

Dark wood,
Unimaginable line,
Where could you have gone
When the pages were as blank as the faces
And for the life of you,
You couldn't tell the difference.
Just say it.
Rip it from the tip of your tongue.
Show your taste buds no mercy and speak.
Grow.
Expand.
Consider the possibilities when
It appears there are none.
Enjoy the pain
And embrace all oppressions and oppositions.
Slumber in the smutty bluntness
Of a marital masquerade.
Quit it
Then keep it going.
Move the stones
And bend their broken subtractions.
Crack the indescribable aptitude
Of times motive for murder.
Explicate reason,
Smoke your lungs away,
Cry your eyes out,
And suck at the wastelands.

All and One

On a perfectly proportioned majestic throne 
resides the one who knows
of time and space, of love and fear - building blocks from which we grow

From ancient starlit forests through to daily sunny norms
the power arrives in textured waves
to charge our dust filled forms

And inside the ash burnt crystals, of a timeless, white charcoal sun
dark energy weaves between the light
- the elements of all, and one

And as we search for a shard of truth in an ocean, big as a planet
how come we always look outward from 
our triangle of living granite

This pyramid shape is vastly more, important than previously thought
its pinnacle contains a watching eye
in all directions, free or bought

And its gravity, the pull of which, keeps us firmly grounded
if it didn’t exist, then a different life 
is certain to be founded

It lives atop a majestic throne, but cannot be seen by the many
who search with unconditioned eyes
that think that they are ready

But who are we, to think we are, less important than we know
it won’t be long, until such truths
are uncovered as we grow

So maybe one day, we can become, even more than what we think
until that time arrives, we’ll still search 
for a non-existent missing link

All and one

Lion and Lamb

Lion & Lamb



Lion
I am what I am
I am a man
And as straight as I stand
All of what I know I do the best I can
But…

Lamb
I am made of similar design
Proportioned and fit
Created by the Creator
Utilized from Adams Rib

Lion
There is a job that I must do
And at times confusion steps in
And I’m not sure on which ones to choose
But right or wrong I had to make a move

Lamb
I have things to do too
Bearing a creation of our lives just to name a few
Responsible for a healthy happy home
The center of the earth is where my base is from

Lion
Lamb may not think that I don’t remember
About the way she would lay on me, the lion, together
I’m not trying to give her frost
It’s just that I am busy being at a lost


Lamb
It’s not that I don’t appreciate all for me he does
In fact I love it all day craving for more
But his stranger statuesque halts me at the door

Lion
I’d let her in all the way if I could
But all I need her to do is give me some time
And all the way I promise I would
I’ll be all hers and she’ll be all mine

Lamb
Time
Time runs on time all the time
Who what where and how you spend is what makes the difference
Time is what it’s all about but time also runs out

Lion
That is why I have to do what I have to do
Make it what it is for me and you
And all the pleading won’t help the situation
It only adds fire to my frustration

Lamb
I am still here right alongside of you
I am struggling but trying too
Hanging on for dear life
While kicking fiercely to get through

Lion / Lamb
I do not know all there is to know
But I love you Lamb
You’re in the deepest part of my soul

Lion, by you I am inflamed
I love you too
Similarities of us yet opposite of the same

Premium Member Hey


Hey, I'm in no position, to pre-judge or undermine
What beggars my thoughts, just what do others find

Hey, look out today's windows, pray tell me what you see
Is it the World of forty years ago, I don't think so for me

Hey, where has it all gone wrong, whether your Islam or another
Just maybe Islamist countries, needed the West to discover

Hey, tolerance has probably bitten, just where's our resources
Or even the proportioned profits, is it horses for courses

Hey, with predominant factions growing, having their say
It looks like the West has festered, their modernists display

Hey, especially to this day, have the fundamentalists sight
Have we gone beyond before, and we find nobody is right!

Hey, look where this has lead us, incredible as it sounds
Simply hatred unknown forty years ago, by who's Devils Hand.

Car Be Me Car Fast

Car Be Me Car Fast

Car be me car, not you car, car be fast, me be fast in car, me fast
Go left car go left. 
Car be fast go left all day
500 laps, car be fast, laps go fast
Me car go fast
Win cup with car be fast
Get milk, when car go circle fast, go left
Other determining factors in auto racing are
Quantum balance, stream line vehicular shape, and grace
Rotate tires for proportioned stops and maneuvering power
Due diligence, judicious use of space while racing
Decreased velocities at corners
There is no time for second place
No stop signs, by design, on racing days 
Only a subtle touch of gas and brakes 
A discerning mind to optimize the vehicles potential in this venture
Speed fuels the need for high adventure 
Surrounding the circular path as the masses gasp and scream
So comprehend, surmise the cutting edge, turn left
Eloquently traverse the course with an exotic flare
Settle smartly, land right there, in winner’s circle
Car be fast, me be fast, but me come in last

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace