Best Savoy Poems
Malevolent imploded uncontrollably,
twisting wildly maniacal posies
amid diabolically toasted brainstem,
angst uncompromisingly yanked tresses
purging stinging speech patterned rhymes
amuck iniquitous poetic verses hung
upside down to tormentingly dry,
facing other inimically knotted borders of
antagonistic galleries in deranged snapshots
razing warped poetical tapestries,
tripping on tunes of whiskey rushes' savoy truffles
and greenish tangerines whilst Led Zeppelin's
Sick Again danced upon reflective ceiling tiles,
time written sideways 'round alleged autonomy
hidden furthermost immune masked mirror images,
debauching Greek braille calligraphy's vindication
on walls of graffito scripted physicality
calling out 'tween hysterical compulsions,
naught one heeded the sounds of synapses
about ill-fated half moon's arresting arc,
synthetic doomsday's clocks aptly chimed
quarter to analytical cuckoo's nest repudiation,
still awaiting on serendipity to surrender
furthermost rabbit hole's curiouser rants,
relinquishing unwell-languaged compilations' sabotage - -
circumventing rhythmically subversive escaped detonation
Touch would a finger to the elegant and smooth cheek
That shines from tears as apple leaves after rain
You weep with happiness, me and yourself do not sparing,
All trying to understand the mystery of the lines on the left hand ...
Let me go through the forest of your hair
Lips, like a pair of black shoes
Order to enjoy crunch of brushwood of hair braids
And chocolate, spicy, as Savoy Truffle ...
Inhaling aroma lipstick
And plunging into pond of eyes,
I hear as rattle waterfalls
Those tart tears, so that brings us together ...
Bullet would make my eyes shot to their mouths,
Tongue-climber to conquer the top of dental ridge
Peninsula of tongue spread a carpet near a smooth gums
Fiery lava pours as rum, stalactites stringy saliva.
... You fell asleep, "Love" whispering sweet wind
The clouds suddenly vanished from the sky soul
And sweet to me in your arms this night leaving summer,
After falling in love with you, I fell in love and in life, and I can not be in a hurry.
P.S.one of my favorite works
please help fix any errors in it, I'm sure a lot of them(in the grammatical, lexical, spelling sense)
Rays of golden sun, at orange dawn, I enjoy...!
I wake up, hearing chirps of birds at four O’ clock;
At fifties! Yet, I feel, as though a little boy...!
The earth and the heavens celebrate springtime-joy,
Timely changes in weather never my glee block;
Rays of golden sun, at orange dawn, I enjoy...!
Newborn baby animals race around in cloy,
In ponds around, bullfrogs in chorus gaily croak;
At fifties! Yet, I feel, as though a little boy...!
Breeze, as though touch me not, feels me and fades in coy,
Within feelings, like salsa, to xylophones, rock;
Rays of golden sun, at orange dawn, I enjoy...!
Seed drowsing, spring up and shoot up fresh green savoy,
Migratory birds to their homelands fly in flock;
At fifties! Yet, I feel, as though, a little boy...!
Sunshine! Shower! Wedding of foxes! Dogs convoy!
Ducks and geese and swans and swamps display their catwalk;
Rays of golden sun, at orange dawn, I enjoy...!
At fifties! Yet, I feel, as though a little boy...!
15 April 2022
Springtime Villanelle Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Sotto Poet
Poet: Ken Jordan
Poem: I'm Sorry, I've Got To Go
Edited By: Sparkle Jordan
written: August/2014
Jazz
aficionado's,
remembers
Chick Webb -
Two sticks
in hand,
tap'n
on the rim
of a
snare;
keep'n time
on the
drums....
like
a clock,
And
tap'n
those cymbals
Bock-a-da-bock -
Go
Chick,
go!
He
was
flawless!
Hit'n licks
like
lightening,
and
didn't miss
a
note -
When
you hear
him play
on
"Liza,"
then you
know
that
Chick,
was
jazz royalty,
worthy
of
the throne -
He gave
jazz,
a whole
new
meaning -
"It don't mean a thing,
if it ain't got that swing."
And
when
Chick Webb,
was
on the
Savoy
Ballroom's
marque -
folks packed
the
show,
to
hear him
jam
his
signature
song....
Harlem Congo.
He
would hit
them
licks,
like
no drummer
did
before.
Chick Webb,
will
always
reign
supreme,
In
New York
and
Baltimore.
The
"Little Giant,"
as he
was
known -
will
always
be,
The King
Of
Swing -
copyright (c) 2014.
"I'm sorry, I've got to go,"
Is reportedly the last words
spoken by Chick Webb.
As the knight of Savoy protects the kingdom,one of the oldest monarchies. He does so, by riding the dragon,this beast tamed and true, with fiery breath and eyes of bluebut if the truth be known. It would tear this kingdom apart, whence comes the stories of Dracula and gargoyles.The children of darkness, who rule the night with terror,for when fallen ones mate with men, appearing as angels of lightbut the abominations and destruction will soon follow. The beginning of a saga.The Chevalier, after his first quest of killing a dragon.Rescues a young maiden named Aile.A young woman of extraordinary beauty. Apon bringing her home to the house of savoy and following in love.They decide to hide their love and the beast within,for you see my friends, Aile is a weredragon.The first abomination and the mother of the night. She shifts, from light to dark at will and when scaled up.Fire and brimstone, she does spew and an awesome sight,with knight, upon her back and they do protect their kingdom. By secretly unleashing their children, on any kingdom,that might rise against them or suspect the truth.My candle has just blown out and___ 5/7/2017
6/5/2009
She is soft as naked
Silken-like tenderness
Hungered on from before
Barely, almost devoured
The ancient secrets
Now hold iridescent
By a shadow's embrace
Beckons; will I follow?
O' rested she there
A viscous temptation
Like a vessel found
Thru eyes of a storm
Ah~ the skin on her back
Ascending souls up heaven
Her woven lines now realized
Amazing grace my beautified
Savoy:
"This sin of flesh
This mortal wound
This pound of fate
This rise of praise
These, mine love
I live in your daze"
I'll covet you whole
Drain your inner scent
Through late weary hours
A cello I watch you play
Laid you there so open
Came I, conjured vexation
Catching glimpses of a dawn
Blood and rain leaves a moan...
Isbell:
"Mine is broken under promised lies
Our bodies shaken under naked eyes
A soul is taken under Cupid's guise
Our sin afresh and a bleeding sky"
Live or die this moment
Brave I've staid the game
Now rest assured my woman
I've always known your name.
It was what it was …
The fantastic idea,
The thoughts of carefree and joy.
A few small steps is all it would take,
And we’d be living our lives in Savoy.
It did what it did …
This incredible dare,
To the notions of travel and explore.
Inspiring the house to become European,
With a provincial French swinging door.
It took what it took …
Every day of our life,
Devouring every dream that we had.
Leaving us both with nothing at all,
Turning our pride, hope and dreams into bad.
It has what it has …
Our ghostly friend,
Flying with everything that was us through the day.
It’s a bloated ghostly figure, a memory figure,
It ate our dreams like we were its buffet.
It is what it is …
My life void of ideas,
Safe from free thoughts, or joy or from care.
I’m existing once more, alone in my head,
With no flicker or shimmer or flare.
The Brighter side : Optimistic turn
Passion,
Fashion,
Sweet pie,
To die,
No sleep,
You creep,
No meets,
He cheats,
Annoy,
Destroy,
Lost dream,
You scream,
Worst fears,
Flow tears,
Above,
True love,
Good start,
Beats heart,
Worthwhile,
One smile,
Savoy,
Enjoy,
Yonker,
Conquer !
Written April 6th, 2015
For contest "Footles poem" by Judy Konos
Awarded 1st place
SHE WANTED AN "ATTA BOUIS": SO WE WENT AND GOT HER ONE!
THE CHEF PREPARED,......................
7 SLICES OF PORCUITIO
SLICE FRESH FIGS
SWISS CHEESE
SEVEN DOLIPS OF GOAT CHEESE
2 WHITE ASPARAGUS
2 GREEN ASPARAGUS
SEVEN STRIPS OF ROASTED RED BELL PEPPER
ON TWO SHEETS OF FILLO-DOUGH(BUTTERED)
MAKE SEVEN TURNOVERS BUTTER EACH SIDE AND BAKE UNTIL GOLDEN BROWN
.....................................................................................................
3 CUPS OF SUGAR COOKIE DOUGH
1/2 CUP OF SHREDDED COCONUT
1/2 CUP OF CHOPPED PECANS
1/2 CUP OF CHOPPED DRIED MANGO
3/4 CUPS OF DARK CHOCOLATE(SEMI SWEET)
1/2 CHOPPED RASAINS
MIX TOGETHER AND MAKE COOKIES
..................................................................................................
4 NEW YORK STRIPS COOKED MEDIUM RARE WITH A LIGHT SAVOY CILOTRO SAUCE
1 TABLESPOONS OF HORRADISH
5 TABLESPOONS OF LIME JUICE
5 TABLESPOONS OF CHOPPED FRESH CILANTRO
1 CLOVE OF GARLIC CHOPPED
1 TEASPOON OF CAYEENE PEPPER
1/4 CUP OF BUTTER
IN A BLENDER MIX AND CHILL, SERVE ATOP THE NEW YORK STRIPS
......................................................................................................
1 CUP OF SHREDDED CABABAGE (SAUTEED)
1/4 CUP OF BACON BITS
1/4 CUP OF DREID PARSELY FLAKES
3 CUPS OF MASHED POTATOES
2 EGG YOLKS
2 TABLESPOONS OF CRUSHED GARLIC
1/4 CUP OF CARALIZED ONIONS
6 HALFED BAKE POTATOE (INSIDES REMOVED)
MIX TOGETHER AND STUFF POTATOE HALFS
BAKE UNTI FILLING IS DONE ABOUT 15 TO 20 MINUTES
..........................................................................................................
1 CUP OF BLUEBERRIES
1 CUP OF STRAWBERRIES
1/2 CUP OF HONEY
1/2 CUP OF ALONMDS
1/2 CUP OF CASEWS
IN A BLENDER, MIX UNTIL SMOOTH, REMOVE FROM BLENDER, AND
ADD 4 CUPS FO PINK CHAMPENGE
2 CUPS FO ORAGNE JUICE
1 CUP OF A GOOD QUALITY BRANDY
............................................................................................................
WE CALL THIS AN ATTA BOUIS!
1/3 CUP OF GORGANZOLA
5 TABLESPOONS OF BUTTER
It is called the American Bar in the Savoy Hotel, in the Covenant Garden area of central London just off the Strand. Tonight, it was awash with indifferent lovers searching for another dramatic romantic interlude or perhaps just some empty sex on a Saturday night in mid-August.
The man stroked high on the thigh of his date or escort; one can never be certain when it comes to these types of complicated arrangements, as she continued to push her skirt down. I took this as not a good sign of things to come later in the deep edge of night.
She swallowed champagne by the glass, as he plowed into his third or fourth bottle of over-priced foreign beer. It was at this moment I realized everything at the American Bar in the Savoy comes with a high price, even when you are
more than willing to pay it.
Fascinated, I watched the scene play out as he leaned further in to her, almost eclipsing her profile. Youth was not going to be his constant companion on this evening or any in the future; his best days were adrift, lost in another moment in the conscious stream of time.
At the next table, the young suit pursued the lithe blonde seated across the table. Drinks ordered, then swapped, he didn’t like his. An early exchange of bartered goods since he had a wedding band and she was still looking. The night was early and exciting without paying the check.
A large rainbow gathering anointed another birthday for one of them; the ebb and flow of celebrating with best wishes and pictures to be passed around Monday morning. No doubt the tab was going to be high but it was a Saturday night and another year to be tacked on.
There was no shortage of lookers versus takers spread out unevenly in the crowded room, as the piano player stylishly swooned out Cole Porter songs from the great American songbook. The players and the played filled up the bar, wondering how to make this night different.
The quick sideways glance, hoping to make eye contact with an unknown partner, held for a moment or perhaps just not long enough. When I asked, no one could tell me why it is called the American Bar located in a London Hotel on the Strand but I was free to guess.
His freak flag is still out there flying; He never has put it down;
Hope for peace and power to the people; will stay with him; as long as He’s around.
People make remarks about it; and act like they don’t care;
But he bets some wish it was; those days of flowers and flowing hair.
Everybody’s joining up; with the popular opinions;
And persecuting those who chose; not to live in there dominion.
Is this the new reality; if you wear it you can own it;
Or is reality only that which is; convenient for the moment?
Today He pulled his music out; and played some old time tunes;
Savoy Brown, Electric Flag and the dark side of the moon.
Now here we are with newer days; and we still can’t ban the bomb;
How long before the words “we trust in God” from money will be gone?
Oh yeah He trusts; He trust that Standard oil still pays no taxes;
And when put to the forefront most of us; will claim that all’s well when they ask us.
Then again somebody could wind up dead; stranger things have happened you know.
John's dead so is Bobby, Martin too; and all the witness at the grassy knoll.
Need attention, hell yes; He’s looking for anyone who really is paying attention;
And not too busy living out life’s negative contentions.
Black power, women rule, east side, west side; but we the people; grow pale
We’re living in a type of matrix telling us not to pass go but go straight to jail.
Oh your pardon, you’ve never been behind bars; bars don’t make the prison you see;
If you take a closer look; you might notice your choices really aren’t that free
.
Tell him the answer to this; why are we always making people do things our way;
Does this country really try to liberate; or just make a junior U.S.A.?
I’ll tell you what he thinks; we’re to busy trying to survive to bother with injustices;
He thinks that’s how the bureaucrats want it; and he supposes that’s just how it is.
What are you going to do cry; that don’t help; Get violent, that’s not a good deal;
There isn’t anything to do as far as he can see; so give it a break just keep it real.
We the people aren’t happening anymore; that just isn’t nice thing to face now is it?
Who knows, move to Canada maybe; as far as him hoping though; that He’ll never quit
You entered my lair again
uninvited I suppose an yet
I welcomed your arousal
why you'd become quite
the trouble maker posing
as the Duke of Hungary
this mere thought of you
the sheer chanting hymns
glorified a selfish need
sorted comforting healing
wretchedness borrowed
yesterdays appetizers by noon
cackling awakened too soon
to withering morbid laughter
gripping a tainted silver spoon
Written by Mrs. Yolanda Joy Nicholsen
6-29-2014 9:58 am
WRITTEN BY MRS YOLANDA JOY NICHOLSEN
At midnight the solid tapered etch of concrete wall
Viewed from Charing Cross Pier, paraded headstrong,
It highlighted in as much an accompaniment to the call,
Where eagerly, old father Thames saw him walking along.
Surmounting steps where the view of Waterloo Bridge,
Made assessments to the whereabouts of the Festival Hall
Imaged silhouetted dignitaries like Dame Edna Everage,
Made the Grand Savoy seem like a fine old Dame to all.
A variety of sepias throughout the entire stretch faded
Entered by shadows where blurry figments to an illusion,
Became a night time London, where history was paraded
Brought Big Ben’s final clamour to a mighty conclusion.
Dark! The stark content of breeze from the Embankment
Whispers an alluring attachment to the ripples on the river
Bringing with it, fears from the past where thoughts cement
How it was still possible for the dead postman to deliver.
Forthy innocent people
were heinously shut down,
the surly morning was about to rain,
then sunrise came and mothers wailed;
I also wept for their death as that tolling bell...
the flag they loved was lowered
halfstaff, a crowd gathered and sang!
Soldiers loyal to their cruel king
pulled the triggers obeying him, the accused
weren't allowed to show a cause for their insurgence,
but they choose death over submission and obedience;
who's thirsty for blood is condemned
by God, His children are equal and sacred,
and their loss is remembered on a morose morning
that saw their warm blood gushing
from their wounds, so there they lay with open eyes
and stretched hands not hearing their beloved' cries!
Yesterday they were as free as the soaring eagles,
their land with its forests and lush meadows
made them smile and increase their pride of inheritance;
did they suspect an invasion from the Northern king* who was
envious and thirsty for dominion and gold...
stealing their happiness and livelihood?
They gallantly fought and refused to be silenced,
and they vowed to defend what was theirs without hesitance!
*King Vittorio Emanuele II of Savoy connected the South (the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies ) to the Kingdom of Italy.
Blow your gills out
with Miles Davis, mellow n kind of blue
relax in black 'n white ways 'n days
all; all the jazz kit
Go on a blues Holiday Billie
away with the Jones’s Nora
get some Rays with Charles
Lenard needs his raincoat
he’s Cohen, hallelujah
hey that’s no way to say goodbye
Jason’s going 93 million Mras
to see if he can Bossa Nova
Amy’s gone the Winehouse with Mr Jones
Ronnie’s off up Scott
not Holland seeking Jools
or Lincoln looking for Abbey
with all; all the jazz kit
Immersed in Ethel Waters
Roberta took some Flack
and Charlie had to Parker
Ellington was no Duke
to some, 50 years ensemble king
he said; it don’t mean a thing
Courtney doesn’t Pine or sing
Benny, who stomped at the Savoy
was a Goodman, not a bad boy
Eartha wanted to be evil
but was so good
for Christmas she got nothing
she got nothing for Christmas
but had it all; all the jazz Kitt.