Best Quotidian Poems


Quotidian Cruelty

Standing before this refulgent pool of reflection
Rhythm obviates the need for a new direction;
Ocular atrocities; I view my deeds in serious light
Cursed mortal, deigning his will in frantic flight.

Quotidian lies have splendid colors in retrospect
See them pass my way; artifices of hell I suspect,
The mettle to steel myself from these horrid sights
My request inside, my importunate yet buried plight,

Turgid notes I play, to insist granting another day;
I for one can hear a Seraphic call when I pray,
But forgiveness that is not ordinary my only asking;
Allow me then to palaver you with the daily tasking.

Beg? No I shall never do such a wasteful thing;
For my disdain shall undo a most beautiful sting.
Standing before this fuliginous pool of speculation
I see him stand beside me, and ask for my invocation.
© Tim B  Create an image from this poem.

Shadows Soundless Quotidian Shift

bohemian rhapsody parades
     amidst greensward moored
erupting profusely toward cerulean skies
     ushered with invisible rip cord
this Earthling self assigned to an (elder)
     box office catbird seat - hoard
ding a secluded nook
     upon premises of Highland (highly adored)

Manor Apartments nestled
     within bucolic (cost wise, a ford
double) Schwenksville, Pennsylvania
     (40.2562° N, 75.4638° W) explored,
sans (founded in 1684) 
     pleasantly assaultive stimuli 
     conducted brake upon metaphysical ratiocination,
     where sunshine poured
upon variegated mother nature

     arrangement, viz spectacular
     vernal suite scored
a top ten hit orchestrating
     exquisite (August) May day presentation,
     which mutely roared
bedazzling this sensate
     being overwriting gourd
     fully stocked, when brittle

     winter snowy firmament forced accord,
     asper overlaying habitat
     palimpsest akin to (sic) ward
before an a may zing exuberant poly

     chromatic onset splashed vibrant
     brilliantly colored palette, toward
this captive observer,
     where choral symphony courtesy of flora
and fauna sensational

     encore performance
     (day at the) opera captivated ensured
fixated this tethered primate royally
     impressed and allured
by aural and visual

     regalia fit for a lord
and tailor, while solar orbitz
     directed by Helios,
whose journey across
     deep purple celestial sea deplored
noiselessly casting lengthened shadows
signaling luminous hued dusk
     chariots of fire earthly domed ceiling ablaze
     pearl jam disappearance,
     when daylight blinks adieu

til the morrow, when dawn
     betakes the reins to reign cosmos chose
zing emergent rays announcing
     morning haz broken
     nudging, prodding, rousing from doze
well rested body electric,
     where energy flows
as attested from me noggin glows
nsync, sans panoply
     of soundgarden crescendo propose
zing ideal material sharing circadian rhythm
     thru the time stream yours truly rows.

Premium Member Quotidian Fever

I dream of magic lines but they  elude me.
Chapbook on acrylic tube  palette, janus-faced cave in 
at the crack of dawn,
crescent moonlight awnings turn to  circus of the  soul, 
images that colour dullard pages leave furrow on my 
hayrick haggard brow. 
Backwater sonnet form leaning  towards some meadow compost rot.
Ghost written silhouettes, shatter fragile eggs on 
loop pile Berber carpets,
yolk stain and pale brown chicken hash tags.
Tight rope knot escarpment found in tripod camera verse,
cliff edge heart-stop paen is just another
blue-sky canon over billed by birds of prey. 
Poetic licence pointer to a learner permit doggerel, 
aspiring metre patchwork but a tapered column 
lost in grey day whimper. 
Guangdong province text in lychee pink for window glaze.
Fleeting notions dangle at the sparrow hawk crossroads,
while grazing skinny red ballon formations overhead.
Mother of invention please shine your convex beam
upon this wellspring drought abandonment I swim in. 
Sudden brain cell drafts a Jack-o’-lantern of disjointed phases,
stretcher bear the legless phrases that leave me 
wheelchaired and infirmed in woolly states.
Timeline mainstream woofer whose lagging jacket hemline falls apart,
areole reduced branch slowly bleeds its cactus juice of inspiration.
A rush, a fever, quotidian fever,
no greater longing can us writers have.


My Quotidian Chant

This poem still mine
Heavy as lead they say
For me alone too weighty
You too have to share it
So take and keep
The piece of your choice.
It is the birth of my baby:
Labour pain in deserted oasis.


I scamper and caper on the hot sand
Chanting my memories of real poetry.
I was betrothed to this harsh reality
And besought to feel no pleasure.
I they forbid to feel it either
Lines of creative literature
In this world so impure
Where you stumble and fall
In attempt to wobble.


They scorn me poet who wrote this
With treason they sew up my lips.
Recording memories of slavery
And the complete drama of trickery.


I know I now need to marry,
I know you wish to marry me
And if thy Lord will it
Mine Lord too will.


I need a rebirth of self esteem
I wish God would give me a child
A wonderful baby to call mine 
One for me to rock gently to sleep
A pretty baby for whom to sing a lullaby
Chanting in a quotidian rhythm of pain
To create literary territories of liberty
Jammed with lines of poetry.


This poem the lines
Let chime and rhyme
Like toll bells in your mind
Only there will I write it
In unguarded secrecy.


Only there write it
My books are filled
With such lines of poetry
My feather-pen is weather-dry
The bottle has got not in it any ink
As the flooded fountain continues to drink
The irony of literary poetry.


This poem ever
All my poems ever
Not simple poem never.



My big brother will kill me
And fund the cost of my lavish funeral
If ever he reads this poem
So just open your mind
And there let me write it.


Father whisper to son,
Mother sing to daughter
My quotidian chant.

Premium Member Quotidian

Quotidian
(commonplace or ordinary)
Written: by Miracle man
October 19, 2020

I say this not intending to sound like some old cliché,
but most things are quotidian that lurk in my day.
I’ve never shown much interest in the latest scuttlebutt,
my comfort zone has mostly been the bottom of a rut.

I know lots of people but socializing isn’t my thing,
I face each day and whatsoever it might bring.
I value my privacy and use my alone time to think,
some have tried convincing me of my need to bethink,
© Tom Wright  Create an image from this poem.

Phoenix Comparison

Desert dry living phoenix mythology bird lives 500 years
Colorful like Raggiana bird of paradise brilliant red plumage;
Fire makes ashes for a moment phoenix later rises
Renewed from its ashes in bright colorful splendor.

Desert holds Phoenix city hot Arizona and quail,
Quotidian everyday walk to work cheered with sun;
Somewhere phoenix person excellence model of perfection
Rests in hearts of millions of people radiating love and beauty in their souls.

Phoenix Islands bask in Pacific Ocean sun north of Samoa
Eight islands provide amount for awakening of life in
Summer Phoenix constellation stars Southern Hemisphere;
My Girl brings sunshine on any day and a cloudy day.

Parallel life of good example hero living sought, liked
Sun shall no more go down everlasting light to
Give unto them beauty for ashes bright and colorful
Life recurring daily together, eternal life of joy smile and happiness.


Premium Member Quotidian Custodian

As long as they're slobs
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