Best Quo Poems
Captive damsel of creative-writing programs,
Personalized, eulogized job of small groups,
The frenetic activities handy to very few,
Poetry now belongs to a subculture hew.
We have accredited professional poets,
Creative writing teachers at all levels,
Composing computer- created poetry,
Creating illusion of the Golden Age artistry.
These professional poets have secured
Their own niches in the academic world,
They cry over the spilt milk like jackals
Snarling over a dried-up well with no aims.
Quantitative work is guaranteed success,
Accuracy, meaning, technique matters less.
=================================
Fourth place winner
Contest: Poetry for poetry's sake of Paula Swanson
Quo Vadis is a Latin phrase meaning "Where going"
If man is the measure of all,
Our world immediately shrinks.
There can be no moral compass
Just the yardstick of failure and success
Drunkenly refracted by o'er heated ambition
Or chilling revenge
Without the overarching Architect,
The Prime Mover that once was.
Man lives in a festering swamp
Where reason plays handmaiden to naked power
And words mean what the speaker wants.
It is now man needs a Voltaire
To bring him back into the light of the sun.
If there is no God, man must invent one.
Captive damsel of creative-writing programs,
Personalized, eulogized job of small groups,
Quo Vadis poetry, a damsel in distress?
The frenetic activities handy to very few,
Poetry now belongs to a subculture hew.
We have accredited professional poets,
Creative writing teachers at all levels,
Composing computer- created poetry,
Creating illusion of the Golden Age artistry.
These professional poets have secured
Their own niches in the academic world,
They cry over the spilt milk like jackals
Snarling over a dried-up well with no aims.
Quantitative work is guaranteed success,
Accuracy, meaning, technique matters less.
+++
December 16, 2014
Form: (Contemporary Sonnet)
Where are you, God?
Where are you hiding?
From the predatory love
Of so many new-believers?
Our eyes so full of tears and prayers…
We rush like pack of wolves
After every real or imaginary sign of you
And bury each other, when we don’t find you.
We’ll turn the Pyramids upside down,
We’ll dig the Himalayas,
We’ll go down the megapolises’ drain canals,
We’ll read all old religious writings
And convert them into a computer code…
And we believe - we’ll find you!
Lord, you can’t escape
From our predatory thirst to own you -
Because it’s true, we can pervade
Into all that is existing.
And yet you are so far
Or here in an inexplicable depth.
And we continue our search
Filling our lives with a fantasy presence –
Teachings, media, rituals,
Cults, temples, old and new…
Where are you?
Are you going again into new depths
Of this perpetual universe?
Where are you going, God?
Shall we continue our search?
And still never reach you?
And still never reach you …
It really is a sweet device,
for we invoke it often as ally
or enemy--grasping at straws
to place it in its proper pigeon-hole
and thus to clarify intent.
And history is on its side!
The noble statesman, saint
and businessman have so exalted
one epitome of truth as such
to gently lay it down
among their trophied words,
though sometimes with regrets--
for it is not alone,
though brightly does it shine
upon the shelf.
Tributes are brought; poetic morsels
of another cast may gleam,
but loyalty and all its oaths
are fair advanced and time
has canonized with vaunted due prestige,
traditions of both faith and law.
No.
It doesn't work just how we thought it did.
The status vacillates.
There are too many any more,
who do not think like us.
We thought that they appeared with some surprise
and brought with them a whirlwind.
We tried to catch them for a time, but soon
it was too much. The status quo
was too complex, and slogans didn't cut it.
Now that is something to thank God for--
although it's possible (can you conceive of it)
that He doesn't live there anymore.
~
There was a local lad named one-armed Joe
Who was an alligator wrestling pro
He misjudged the 'gator's snap
Resulting in this mishap
He dined on 'gator tail as quid pro quo
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Great are the follies of haughty man through the times ,
Imposing his will on fellows, changing the climes,
Playing god for some silver , acceding to greed.
Always striving for more , wanting more than his need,
Sowing seeds of dissension , destroying his breed,
Meddling with nature , man destroys nature and earth.
He's restructured the genes, to mutants given birth,
His junk - food is unhealthy , adds weight to his girth;
The surgeons mint money with their nips and their tucks.
The atom's been tamed , corporations make big bucks,
The innocent public just ran out of their lucks;
Politics and religion determine one's fate.
I'm not against progress , but am sorry to state,
Life's more than money or power , pleasures to sate;
Love and compassion to one and all is what counts.
Drink of the wisdom in Good Books, drink from their founts,
Make good use of progress, scale good Karma's mounts;
Life's purpose is not sowing destruction's seed.
Playing god for some silver , acceding to greed,
Meddling with nature , man destroys nature and earth,
The surgeons mint money with their nips and their tucks,
Politics and religion determine one's fate,
Love and compassion to one and all is what counts,
Life's purpose is not sowing destruction's seed.
~07 Jul 2016~
12 syllables per line checked via www.how manysyllables.com
Quid pro quo Penny ante It is only a penny for your thoughts Unless you do not know? Happiness can’t be bought With no money to burn and a penny saved is a penny earned Why do you put in your two cents worth?
Ascending unto the fourth pinnacles auspicious plyth ~
To quantumly observe these plateaus regions of oeuvre
Molten monograms of monarchies scripted immure; immolating
These gravitating exhibits of perceptions inter alia
Past particles of meticulously latticed perplexities....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
....Quid pro quo?!
Note: Smile ~ "Its 'A Beautiful Day' &, 'Love,' Always," John!:) ~
I want so many things
I want to be kissed on the cheek
I want to be told
"Your hair looks so soft!
Can I feel it?"
I want to be hugged
As though I could slip away at any second
I want so many mundane things
But of course
I could never say any of that
To do so would be to break social standing
And status quo
So instead
I spout it off to the internet
Online
Or in a journal
Where faceless beings
Or future historians
Might read it and feel
The mortifying horror of asking
All of us agreeing
To pretend we don't want it too
Mysterious mime or calculating creature
Misanthropic recluse or doting benefactor
Shallow Charlatan or discerning teacher
Obstinate hauteur or modest beseecher
Erudite miser or innovative vizier
Bridled subordinate or confident mentor
Repressed miscreant or extroverted courtier
Natural predator or nurtured fancier
Meager cipher or extravagant couture
Perennial malcontent or persistent pacifier
Venal provocateur or unremitting stabilizer
Wavering transient or steadfast accompanier
Pessimistic mentality or positive reinforcer
Incessant doubter or faithful believer
Opportunistic voyeur or resolute lover
Impulsive actor or objective personifier
A rapscallion
Pit Peterson
A sine qua non
Of Village Hay
A Quid pro quo
A Squid or roe
For Aeneid Poe
Of pillaged Bay
You lay by my side,
sound asleep.
I sit there awake,
thinking of us.
You sit up awake,
as I lay there asleep.
We roll over in the morning,
with the sun rising.
We look at each other,
waiting for a connection.
The connection was lost years ago,
when you were seventeen.
Now it’s just the status quo,
to be with you.
Can you make some space for me?
I will sit there beside you
I will not leave you
Listen to the sounds of waves
Look at the bright moon
Listen to the silence of the moon
The moon and I are very peaceful
Both are trying hard to hide the dark side
Let me sit very close to you
Hear your heartbeat
Feel your secret ache
Can you make some space for me?
I want to barter your pain with my happiness