Best Redound Poems


Fight Goliath

Hold it jumping knife
Lead me now 
Off pride quality resembling stationary trains 
Under velvet willows 
xylem yields Zephaniah 
Angelic baritone can decorate 
Everything from giants hollering inspirational jargon 
Kids leaping mysteriously 
No-one obscures problematically quaint 
Redound steadfast triumphs 
unwarrantably viscous wispy
XX
YY 
Zany are bold claims 
Diluted evaporates frost growth 
Highly~Ineffective indefinite Jade•Green knavish 
Limitation manifests naturally over periods 
Quantify 
Regurgitated slaves troublesome ugly vagrants 
Wonderfully xenophobic yearlong zadnica, 
****(nic) betrothed chatter delusional escapades
Fondled gifts harass innocent journey-men 
Knowledge learnt more-so note-worthy opting-out 
Presidential quarts recollection subsides 
Troublesome undergrads vigorously womanize
*** 
Yesterday's Zzz's awaken by cognitive dialect 
Eventually freshmen graduate 
Hiding inside jambalaya ketamine 
Luring man nonchalantly obsesses prostitution
Quietly 
Real sex trumping unnamed vagina wilding-out 
XYZ 
Ambivalent bass clowns drenched excessively 
Fake giggles heard intuitively 
Jakaroos knock loudly mocking noises 
Obesity plagues queen rich slobs 
Time undos vestiges 
Worry 
X
Y
Z

•THE END•
10~07~16
Form: ABC

A Walk Through the Snowy Copse

Into the snow white castle only tepid feet bound
Head mirror of quilted bed reflects a glimmering compound
Satin blanket spreads over each frozen mound
A blinding glare from the silted bed doth rebound
With each heavy step mist arises from fluffed goose down
Arching o'er head a crystalline canopy doth crown
The hooded frames as glowing sentinels ballast ground
The woody rails in their icy coat of arms surround
As tempest blows, crackling arms in groaning chorus resound
From portholes beaming, frozen pellets wayfarers confound
Alighting from pillowy perches, Red-shouldered hawks with wings unwound
Strafe the bystanders; with their prickly dander doth hound
A fibrous parapet of occluded, twining roots shields ground
Each truant sole straying from the beaten path will impound
Buried stumps as pulpy landmines on periphery abound
The errant, plodding heel with shocking pain to redound
Pace must quicken in the late afternoon stound
Dusk's chilling tides o'er snowy copse leaves laggards spellbound
As the last rays of light funnel into 
the background
Enchanting visions of woodland nymphs mind's eye doth astound
Form: Rhyme

The Reluctant

THE RELUCTANT 
by Mark Miller © 09/19/2014

We are the living seeming stillness willful we endure 
Through vows of contempt to never surrender
Vacate questions fly by trees terse unknown
Retreat or follow the terminus term less 
Momentary pains unheard retort by shallow useless 
Redound prismatic dreams latter stray trust
Natures vacant way redresses selves pose in us
Pernicious waves enter ancestors unearthly graves
Today's rays show muses midriffs ghastly craves
Stealthy mending blindly tenuous mendacity
Humorous make believe entertains cryptic insanity
Friendless unbound plays acts shameful indelible
Mindless conceit surveys noiseless hostile handily
Downward deadlock hours wither over certain irritant 
Moonlit nights stare down reprisal in winnower's other
Fury's insight fortify fearless worry nowhere 
Repress paths repugnant reptiles past broken paths we honor
Reconcile wrath's subterfuge insults spites the confessor
Splitting subverts imaged illusions rouges gallery succession
Accosted conditions denied serfs exalt failures procession 
Recover the recreant disloyal sequestrate authority 
Lucifer's sepsis addressed banished brotherhood of man restarts again
Form: Ballad


Poem Lost

The bard had just penned a ballad profound
and stroking his beard, this clumsy word-hound
just spilled his last beer on pages unbound.
A marvelous monorhyme sits uncrowned. 

Deluged under streams of thoughts that still hound,
I venture to guess the piece has just drowned
from rainclouds of doubt with thunderous sound
from faraway lightning seeking a ground,

Now mopping up foam, he waits to impound
damp shadowy reservoirs which redound
to poetic skill reserved and renowned,
concealed in debris, its burial mound.

Like nebulous chords which cannot be found
his poem is lost with drinks he just downed.
Can there be a way to use ultrasound
to track fickle brainstorms flitting around?

written April 5, 2012, revised August 17, 2021

Contest: Your Best Monorhyme, Host: William Kekaula
Form: Monorhyme

Looking For Real Better Life

So, What is real?
In a life of mystery in an ongoing wheel.
So, What is real?
When the value no longer appeal
So, What is matters? 
When no one cares to feel.

When you start to look around;
Seek for anything that would sound.
Open your eyes and see what on the ground.
Look so close and take quickly what was found;
Keep it in a place where people would share it as you expound
The truth of real life; say it aloud for anyone likes to redound
Looking forward to better future and ever crowned.

Endearing Entreaty

An attractive face through the restive crowd did bound
A fleeting, distant glance my truant eyes found
A passing smile that mirth and pageantry did redound
A serenating voice that echoed a blissful sound
A radiant glow that her shrouded beauty did surround
A burnished gloss that blossomed into the foreground
A tentative gesture; all my apprehensions receded into the background
A cocked head expressed a mystique so profound
An arched eyebrow did my insecurities disbound
A tantalizing, teasing finger through her hair my interest did compound
A puckering of her sensuous lips did my pattering pulse pound
A swanky bend of her knees advertised her sleek, polished legs leaving me spellbound 
A swivel of her shapely hips did my remaining, libidinous core impound
Form: Rhyme


Handosome Guy of the Hippie Era

Handsome guy of the Hippie Era,
the wisest guy who never experimented with drugs,
but went to church on Sunday and prayed to God; 
eccentric clothes, long hair and drugs were too crazy
to be explored, to block out the horrendous images
of the Vietnam War that troubled him at every
unpleasant, waking hour to make hope an enduring value...
as unquestionable as his verbal wisdom; 
while considering an end to all violent deaths
that killed the vibrant youths:  the very heart of America!

The rebellious hippies protested,
against their Government,
confounding injustice and lies:
to provoke a congenial state of disharmony;
they confused peace with war-fare, standing by,
and letting their brothers die...
instead of lending a hand:
injustice or not they continued in their unsocial conduct!  

I didn't mind singing songs of peace,
in my fair but opposing views,
light a candle on the steps of a cathedral;
and they surely brought comfort to mothers in pain,
and through tense emotions,
I didn't speak offensive words and rebelled!
I made my statements of disapproval and disdain
for the bloodshed and lost lives of young Americans...
those lives not saved by a courage so invincible,   
but rage brings unbearable resentment 
and indefinite frustration on oneself...
if it becomes unreasonable and unsubstantial! 

That Hippie Era is far gone into a past subdued by defeat, 
and scorn was brought upon a President who allowed this;
but power and truth,sometimes, collide
and we can be too judgmental and unfair:
missing the substance of the true matter...
when exposing somebody's faults instead of our own!

Handsome guy of the Hippie era, so good-natured and lovable,
you are getting old and wrinkled, but glad to have been
that lucky to have shown compassion and peaceful intentions;
your sadness was held in a memory so undeniably feeble... 
reduced to nothingness:  when bravery didn't redound to the credits
of every soldier who longed for that home-coming victory!
Form: Narrative

How We Stand

The baseball glove I never wore
Is kept within this box
With a first place ribbon partly torn
From the medal at the top...
And a letter mom asked me to mail 
That  had begged you to come home
But I kept it so her fairytale 
Would just die if left alone...
As I slowly wiped the tears away
That fell from both her eyes
I'd hush her lips when she would say
She missed you and your lies...
In rebelliousness I'd turn away
As my friends play with their dad
Glancing back at me with such dismay 
That I'd want just what they had...
But your absence made the man in me
Eventually grow to fill the space
Of my friend and father absentee
With diplomas in its place...
But the one thing that you cant redound
Just imagine if you can
Is growing up without a man around
So you know just where we stand...

Terry 
WWW.WhiteLionPoetry.com

Autumn's Mantra

A frothy mist shrouds the ground
A cool breeze drifts all around
A frosty chill doth surround
Solar rays no longer resound.

A plethora of colored foliage aboveground
A web of tangled, rotting roots underground
Chelones, Mums, and Golden Rod abound
In gardens bright, colored gourds propound.

Ragweed pollens and mushroom spores confound
Leaves metastasizing with brighter hues redound
Stealthy Evergreens emerge into the foreground
Maple taps their sweet syrup doth expound.

Migrating birds skirting cooler air are southbound
Doting Wasp Queens from dying nest bound
Honey bees cradle in warm, colony compound
Squirrels Summer store will carefully impound.
Form:

Autumn's Scintillating Charade

Balmy summer air to southern climes doth repair
On horizon, blue azure panels shaded with smoky tincture
Silky, white fondue relpaced by pallid, silver hue
Fondling, summer breezes; gripping, autumnal wind freezes
Cooling waves react with fertile leaves; amber gown doth 
retract
Nutrient-rich chlorophyll doth spill and sugary saps rill
Anon, doth ween a bright, colorful sheen
Golden crescents and cherry strobes with lobes iridescent
Rounded discs on Global Willow in creamy glaze mellow
Spiny-toothed, Red Oak leaves flossed with reddish-
green gloss
Sugar Maple stars bathed in a bright pumpkin lathe
Ovular Blue Beech blades are brushed with a brackish rust
Veins of Aspen heart umbrella bleed bright yellow 
Pentagram lobes of Sweet Gum gilded with purple robes
After scintillating charade, garnished blades began to 
fade
Leaves' life-giving juices the stout bough refuses
Nutritious store salvaging trunk doth score
The regal, shimmering gown now shriveling crown
A duller shade of brown on the crumpled folds redound
Last gasp, its withering anchor doth cast
Descending from mercurial splendor to mother natures 
blender






August 21, 2012

Spring's Anthem: Regeneration and Reformation

The spring anthem doth now sound
Helpless eggs lie all around
Encased larva still tightly bound
Brooding mothers redound
Ingenious caretakers cover nest and mound
Ravenous predators scour tree and ground
Doting Queens have nests tightly wound
Succoring honey begins to compound
Aging pupa entombed all around
Nubile creatures more nutrition impound
Docile minions escape their waxy mound
Tracking nectar wherever flowers abound
Hovering matrons incubate above ground
Enervating heat the eggs must surround
Brimming yoke with new features expound
Emerging embryo can now be found
Emboldened chick with beak doth pound
Suddenly from cracked shell does new life resound.
Form:

To Reverence Life

God gives men life-
Why do we waste it? On things, in things that only create a second of bliss that 
fades just as quick as it came.
We waste life on substances--drugs, alcohol, un-ordained sexual pleasures, the 
pride of life, the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes--and other influences, trying 
to gain peace and fulfillment that only an inner connecting with the Heavenly 
Creator--our Father and All Mighty One can satisfy.

From birth, all men are created with purpose. No one is an afterthought. Not one 
of us is insignificant to the Father because He has each one of us inscribed in 
the palms of His loving hands(Isaiah 49:16). Not one of us came into being by 
happenstance(regardless to how we were conceived).

The Father is the Divine Orchestrator of every life and when we present ourselves 
to Him for His glory, He can make a complete symphony of our lives that will 
resound with a melody so sweet and melodious that even the angels in Heaven 
begin to rejoice and listen in awe.

Life as the Father ordained is to be lived following and pursuing after peace with 
all men and holiness without which no one can truly fulfill their destiny on Earth 
and for Eternity.

The Father's breath in you gave you life, so embrace it with respect; care and 
reverence  for the One who created you.
Do not abuse the life the Father has bestowed to you! You only get one chance at 
life.  Be good to yourself! Be good to others! And the life you live--as the Father 
intended--will redound to the more greater reward for you and all mankind.
Form: Didactic

Autumn's Leaves

A mellowing stream bleaches amber gown
Producing a triage of yellow, orange and brown
Fall's residual wave with pageantry redound 
A plumed cloak doth stunted foliage crown
A vigil of decadence and decay doth abound
A fleeting shadow kisses the barren ground
Autumn's winds summarily the gallant parade doth confound
Deciduous wreath dismantles and trickles down
A glistening ensemble with hushed tones doth resound
A temporal garnish covers each, sodden mound
Anon, elements leaching crescent lobes mercurial splendor doth impound
Form: Rhyme

Noise and Silence

Beneath my mind the demon danced,
  He reaps away my brain
With awkward sounds and sights untrue
   Not of the homely grain.

It's party dim tonight I think ,
  But things are moving all,
I clearly see his evil spree,
  While from the cliff I fall.

For long I fall, yet I reached not,
  The lowly plain recedes,
Headlong I veer, it makes me steer
   Down to a small crevice.

What will retrieve my dislodged frame?
  Those whom I knew have left,
From somewhere sprang a sudden bang
   Reminds me I'm bereft.

The clamour of a tavern reached
  My ears, I stand upright,
What thing just screeched, I was bewitched
  By that carousing sight.

I cannot hear the people speak,
  The gestures block my eyes,
A humming sound does well redound
  To tell the same, same lies.

I move my limbs, yet they refuse,
  Who stole the old, old bliss?
Fixed and numb I stayed alone,
  The voices went amiss.
Form: Ballad

Premium Member The Fiddler and the Frog

A symphony in two part sound:
the fiddler and the frog
played echo in the fog,
a lovely analog.

Crescendoing as they redound,
with none to inhibit
the bow or the ribbit,
they simply ad-lib it.

Then, absent of all jealousies,
acknowledging their need,
they oft exchange the lead,
and neither does impede.

Across the water melodies:
the fiddler on her strings,
the frog, the baseline brings;
delight is given wings.

—————

for The Fiddler and the Frog Poetry Contest
sponsored by Craig Cornish
a Paulo Comitatu: 8:6:6:6 with abbb, accc, etc. 
written on 1/22/23
© Jeff Kyser  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Other

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