Best Sightseers Poems
Creeping creepy creepers, the crawling trellis
jutting out of everywhere
snaking through country and metropolis
twisting turning in floral bliss
but more like snakes that hiss
But in quietude feign death for self-defense!
Weeping willows with an unreal surreal sorrow
weeping tears of dew onto the silted furrow.
Perhaps weeping for bretheren felled
in deforestations and land clearings in
my imaginations of the call to preservation.
Against ethnic cleansing of greenery for selfish building
As per man's construction for mere recreation
Velvety-green tear- stained faces or rather foliage
When dew is stuck on them as nature's trinkets of pearls.
And over there touch-me-nots swaying coyly
like prim and proper maidens
in the fantastic floral gardens.
And what in the world is this case?
Imitation flowery in place of imitation jewellery?
Yeah, thats poinsettia in a vase
Leaves in the disguise of flowers
Its actual flowers relegated to backstage.
And ethereal fairy-slippers await their never coming wearers
and Indian pipes to be admired by Red Indian sightseers.
Oh and here's another spectacle- but sniper tactics this time
Yikes! Let the naive insect world beware!
Whilst the bloodthirsty killers lie in ambush
Those camouflaged jungle guerrillas
or should we say the venus fly-traps!
Or a more harmless one yet mimicking the scary
A snap-dragon flora, its mouth opening and snapping shut.
Then watch that mega-sized jumbo giant flora
The world's largest flower
No stems, no leaves, plant-eater plant, rafflesia.
Is it too much for the faint-hearted ha ha.
And wow now watch that incredible costume, oh my!
A flower masked as some pesky fly!
None other than the remarkable fly orchid.
And yet another, the silent music of the fiddlenecks
Fiddles as if for the light-weight fairies.
And lastly not forgetting ofcourse
the sky-blue unforgettable forget-me-nots
A memorable bouquet but themselves devoid of memory.
Ah nature lover poets if you wish to view
more of flora in a fancy dress masquerade
Go ahead and flip through the pages of
a botanical, floral
horticultural
pictorial journal.
And see for yourself the fantastic flora's charade
or else imagine them dressed as a floral renegade!
Categories:
sightseers, abuse, environment, flower, garden,
Form:
Personification
The very first week of every October
Bright yellow, orange, amber, purple and red
Splash artistry on New Hampshire’s White Mountains
As the tourism season comes to a head
North Conway’s old railroad station is abuzz
Men in traditional conductor attire
Escort sightseers to seats with pane-free windows
To peer out at landscapes in colors of fire
The spectrum on dappled mountains evokes awe
Caught by camera lenses as cool winds blow
Offering a chilly reminder to all
That these peaks will soon be blanketed by snow
Clickety-clack, the train hugs its aged track
Freeze-frame photograph images will remain
Recalling the splendor of fall’s peak foliage
Until spring breathes life to the mountains again
Categories:
sightseers, autumn, nature, travel,
Form:
Quatrain
The cherry blossom over the Osaka River in Osaka city,
Keeps the castle overhead mesmerized in its beauty,
The pink and white blossom sparkle and shine on nice Spring Day,
Like the stars glowing from supernova in an explosive way.
The spring has heralded its arrival in a magnificent way,
The blossoms bend over to greet the sightseers in Japanese way,
Reflecting its beauty and majesty in the river,
The snow-covered mountains turning green in its wonder.
Cherry blossoms are so reflective and full of charms,
Romance and pleasure have been invoked forever in hearts,
The painting of woman in red and white kimonos picnicking in the park,
Blends the vision of the painter with nature’s most beautiful art.
In the nighttime, the castle is illuminated in nice colors in dark sky,
The cherry blossoms radiate their own heavenly charm in dark sky,
Songs of nightingale make her divine in moonlit night,
The onlookers hope that they would not lose such a beautiful sight.
Throngs of people view the beauty of blossoms, in sheer admiration,
So intricate, they can only be designed by God in heaven,
Butterflies drink its nectar,
Bees and hummingbirds spread its pollen to needy in nature.
On a spring rain, or a windy day, the blossoms depart,
They fall, leave the tree, signifying transience of good life,
The blossoms will be celebrated in dance and art,
I will wait till next spring, to see the cycle of rebirth in life.
Categories:
sightseers, spring,
Form:
Free verse
Sweet September, see how splendidly she shines!
Subtlety submitting seasonal splendour, she
swamps summer’s splendiferous sights,
by stealthily shrouding splendid scenery,
with suffused sensuous, sybaritic, scenarios!
Sublimely serene, she spatters and splashes
slivers of saffron, sepia and sienna shades,
slapdash over the sedentary summer scene, sending
sightseers silly! Soon, spooky spectres sporting skittish
shadows, surprise and startle singularly sensitive givens,
seeking soothing solitude someplace. Suspicious solo
sentient stalkers, suspecting solo sailors sometimes, shiftily seen
spying on sequestered sibylline, spectator savants, stay silent.
Such suppressed servile sophisticates, spotting smart
Seedy Senators, sitting sloppily slumped - some silently
supine - send sensual suggestive signs to sexy secretaries, as
subdued sartorial suitors stand speechless. Some, sober and staid,
state spasmodic spates of salacious, and sometimes sanctimonious, statements.
Seemingly superfluous, scores of servicemen and seniors suggest
specific superficial senile support services, should shut shortly!
Studious spokesmen suggest scads of spurious suggestions in September,
send scrambled signals, since severely symbolic sentence structure,
should seek speedy severance from sedulous speculative stricture, and
stimulating scattered sophomore senses and sensibility is senseless!
Since scathingly scanning this alliteration, it seems successful!
Hopefully a fun filled frolicking folio with ‘fin-esse?’
Rhymer. September 6th, 2016.
Categories:
sightseers, giggle, september,
Form:
Alliteration
Lake, Pond, and Kettle
The lake is glistening beneath the sun,
and paddle boats leave ripples in the light.
The sky above, a lovely turquoise blue
with fluffy cotton-candy clouds in sight.
Sightseers settle on the wooden porch;
from rocking chairs, survey the lovely views.
While others, by the pond of large Coy fish,
observe their colors and designs that fuse.
Inquisitive and friendly, on the hunt,
they swim around the center fountain spray;
come close to take bread from a waiting hand,
then flip their tails to 'round again, make way.
Inside the lodge, it's four o'clock...tea time;
and coffee too is served, if you're inclined.
From the huge copper kettle tea is poured,
and cookies wait with cream and lemon rind.
The 'tea at four' at Mohonk Mountain House
is one of many joys at this retreat's
amazing, peaceful settings to relax
with nature's beauty, tea, and cookie treats.
Sandra M. Haight
~1st Place~
Contest: Lake, Pond, Kettle
Sponsor: Nayda Ivette Negron
Rules: Use Words: Lake, Pond, Kettle
Judged: 05/17/2018
Categories:
sightseers, beauty, nature, peace,
Form:
Iambic Pentameter
Castles and mansions such tourist attractions
Buses carrying the flocks
Of sightseers a many
Cameras flashing at old Big Ben
Back streets full of litter and broken men
Bottles empty after another cold night
The beauty of poverty, empty wind swept dirty street roads
That fills one with loneliness and sadness
For all those whose suffering
Is no beauty at all
A single tear
For the young and old
Walking the streets of London
Where the sun hardly shines
Bullets of rain to flood the poor
Compassion has been drowned in the Thames
Me? I shed a tear, and fill my belly at the pub
I walk the streets of London with shiny new shoes
I pass old men and vets, hands held out
They, awarded medals of bronze and me with my gold watch
The day comes to an end
Do not ask me why
We are all so lonely
Notes: Inspired by the song of the same name!
This is the song
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YKu4DaPi-qY
London is a beautiful city, I have been many times, The song is more about social issues that any particular city.
Categories:
sightseers, beauty, england, rain,
Form:
Light Verse
When everything starts going awry
No qualms in acceding to a special mortal, no matter how grouchy
All gospels on controlling sentiments go down the drain
Blessed and cursed simultaneously like an ounce of hydration in a desert of sand
Seemingly the only logical thing
Belies all the comments on being just a fling
No matter how much bereavement it brings
It is the least ransom one can afford in love from which sightseers cringe
Getting enraptured by it
Even on loosing precious moments one feels most fit
Hope sapped by the fact
As it doesn't seem right
Still unable to curb
Though one tries with might
Only consolation in prenominal testament
That the chosen one is in sight
Prays for divergence from feeling atrabilious
And to channelise energy for what is more precious
Categories:
sightseers, beautiful, deep, growing up,
Form:
Rhyme
On this peaceful land where we live comfortably
with the neighboring villagers sharing the sun and moon,
stars and clouds, winds and waters, rains and snows;
we sow the seeds on the field, wander in the wilderness
to spot the games to hunt in the changing colors of the flowers
in the time of bloom and fruit and revolving seasons
One day, from the east, crossing over the great sea,
the white feathered gluttonous bird flew into this peaceful land
and took our land by force; the bird cruelly pecked us with his avaricious beak, cold-heartedly tore us with his sharp talons, kept pushing and shoving us eastward, and this vicious cycle drove us into tribal wars and at last, Illini
to extinct.
And this moaning butte throwing its shadow on the water
atop of encircling cliffs is the Starved Rock, the site where
the great tragedy took place, all Illini tribesmen lost their lives.
The water of the Illinois River mixed with the tears of the people
who lost everything in the east via this legion for further west,
now moans to ease the spirit of Illini wandering around
the Staved Rock, which is still hungry, in the evening glow
as a soundless requiem.
The water flows embracing sorrowful Rock where:
the mother jumped into the water holding her beloved child,
the village elders who collapsed while upholding tribal pride
followed by the war cry of the warriors who grabbed tomahawk and fought but, alas, fell to enemy’s hand, now is telling the story of their last day
it becomes whirlpool in the very middle of the water.
When the streams small and large come together the following paths
meet and form a pool on the top of this lonely butte on the other side of the river, and dashes into the basin of the waterfall;
some of them fall rapidly into the steep ravine with heartrending cries
some of them drift like slow moving time in deep sorrow
some of them descend to the rocks of level stratum one by one
singing a funeral dirge.
The spirit of Illini drifting along the river
carrying so many sad stories touches the tourists’
heart; stepping on the site of the tragedy
makes tears stand to casual sightseers;
the grief-stricken stories raise the ripples in the river
and leaves a lingering imagery in the eyes and ears of the travelers
Categories:
sightseers, america, pain, people, river,
Form:
Narrative
My father raised roses from the very root
they grew in straight, taunt, magnificent shoots.
They stretched high determined to touch the sky’s very brink
in blooms of mammoth reds, whites, yellows and pinks.
They caught the eye with scented perfumed fragrance
that aroused the senses of every passers glance.
Long stemmed, petal laden tight budding beauties
that swayed rhythmically in the wind as if by duty.
Sightseers awed as nature’s bounty prevailed
and he pruned and tended them each day without fail.
They gave him both joy and pleasure,
a satisfaction he found nothing else could measure.
In his garden he kept his dreams in secret quiet solitude
strengthened by persistence and tenacity imbued.
In his heart lay some inner deeper beauty flowing
from the scented rose to a hidden unknowing
that would be forever him.
I went by the house today
so many years after he had passed away.
Everything was changed, not a rose or bush to spare,
and the garden - it was no longer there.
Only with my eyes tightly closed
could I see and recall the beauty of the rose.
The saying then is true for all women and men
you never can go home again.
Everything changes and passes into time,
for a moment, brief as it was, I saw it in my mind.
I saw him - just as I remembered, in his element, well and alive
tending each bud and blossom where he once thrived.
I wanted to embrace, wrap him close against my breast
but the vision was his and I was but a guest.
For you Pop, Dec.27th, 1983
Categories:
sightseers, father, memory, rose,
Form:
Rhyme
The day started
as a breeze without tracks
in the dew of a fresh mowed lawn;
But days come without warranty,
of things starting right,
remaining that way;
For soon after sunset
this breeze had metamorphosed
into a locomotive,
following a northeasterly path,
its only tracks, were of devastation in its wake;
Dawn, brought with it, sightseers,
and of course, a feeding frenzy of Shad
seeking cash for services,
from the aftermath of this great wind;
The area,
now resembled a war zone,
absent of bodies,
and for this I was thankful.
Then, God put a rainbow in the sky,
above Church steeple;
Was this His way of saying, time is short,
to His people?
Categories:
sightseers, natural disasters,
Form:
Free verse
12th Street
The curtain rises, the stage light
beams on the darkest street in town.
On a hot night, 12th street lives.
The old abandon buildings jump
with jazz, hot rock, and laughter.
Transient stars appear in glittering gowns,
poising for sightseers and seekers,
modeling down the rubble grey stage
with eyes that call, "pay my price,
i'll be nice".
They are received with passionate responses,
as the audience gladly agrees to pay the
price for an unlasting reward from
the stars of the street.
The curtain falls, the stage light dims,
on a hot day, 12th street dies.
Categories:
sightseers, image, lust, people,
Form:
Free verse
Those wooden meant to for all season,
Blue painted motored boats beacon,
Us to calm green sea waters,
To sail on and that’s all that matters.
The calm green waters dolphin rides,
Deep inside when the tide subsides.
Eight pals and two sailors sailed on
On a boat with the rent haggled upon.
Two and a half miles have gone,
Into the waters we sail on,
Squealing and giggling in delight,
Adrenalin pumped up and over excite.
The motor the sailor cuts off,
Over and over with a bit of scoff,
The dolphins they say swim and are gone
By the dull sounds of the motor whirr &drone.
Waves they splash frothy sprays
On the bodies bathed in hot sunrays,
Shrills cries of joy erupt,
From us sightseers eight on a glimpse of dolphins seen abrupt.
The wet bath suits and sun tans,
Some with hand held beer cans,
Watch the dolphins frolic in the sea
Cavorting in graceful curves both she and he.
The sailor maneuvers you to the place
Of marine life ,pelagic birds his boat with grace,
The sight of these magnificent mammals,
Feeding and playing their bodies look coated with enamel.
The thrill so great just to watch,
These mammals is just top notch
This pod of dolphins swim away,
We watch through misty sea sprays.
Salty breeze seep in our hair,
Smiling sun shines on our burnt backs bare,
The dull sounds of engine power,
The enchanting sounds of rythimic waves in my ears still hover.
By Sashi Prabhu(zeauoxian)
Categories:
sightseers, adventure, education, friendship, nature,
Form:
Rhyme
Lethargic lucid dreams
Filled with fervency and vivid imagery
Of the gravitational pull of my alcazar
Blissfully bringing the waves crashing
Upon my distasteful catacombs
Visions of the shell shocked sandy floor
Crowd my frontal sightseers
The caress of the sluggish amphibian
On my eccentric costumed feelers
Leaves me gasping in search of newly found pleasure
As I take one, two, three drowning steps
Subtlety submerging in my self worth
The liquids surround my fitful being
As it consumes its prey
I exhale once more
And the world is for a minuscule moment muted
All is cleansed in the chemicals
Watch as it slowly floats and becomes colorless
In the near futures distance
Categories:
sightseers, allusion, analogy, conflict, environment,
Form:
Free verse
Salvaging sweet sunshine
swimming,surfing, soaking;
strolling sandy shorelines
sitting by sparkling springs
as sizzling sensation
serenely sails a-sea,
simmering solstice
into surrender;
silently soft shades
suddenly splash and
saturate smooth skies;
sundown settles,
surrounding so
sunset's splendor
soothes sightseers
to savor
sights and sounds
since summer
season
subsides
soon.
Summer's End contest
written 9/8/13
Categories:
sightseers, summer,
Form:
Diminished Hexaverse
*Image of Quebec City by LNEWS.
Hawaiian Eskimos
Quacking lone duckling on a crystal lake,
Queerly hops a loon, faux pas not a mistake,
Quebec, dad's trunk roads for sightseers,
Quaint scene, an edgy dad seeks volunteers,
Qualifying mountie, Hawaiians, he indulges,
Quality time, the whole of Canada, he divulges.
2022 July 26
Categories:
sightseers, travel, vacation,
Form:
Couplet