Best Snubbing Poems
I’m turning into mother
Eyebrows, nose, and lips.
Bosoms hanging, almost, to
my child bearing hips.
She’s grumpy and forgetful
And I’m growing much the same.
Tables now are turning
In the parent child game.
It’s me that does the cleaning,
Feeds and dresses too
Who always asks before we go
‘have you been to the loo’?
Her childlike ways increasing
throwing tantrums, snubbing food,
and me left to be patient
understanding, kind, and good
I’m turning into mother.
But the future I can see.
‘cos they tell me life’s a circle,
and soon, that child will be me.
Childhood mem'ries, happy childhood mem'ries
When the world was beautiful and sunny
I laid down my head and prayed
For new toys and for good grades
I did not need much for joy and comfort.
Then years later life became much harder
Learning all I could with care and ardor
But my passion scorned my peers
They replied with shoves and jeers
Till my zest for life was near extinguished.
College years, I gained my independence
Shunning all my foes with my transcendence
I had strength and zeal to fight
Working hard both day and night
Hoping to create a world utopia.
When I graduated, I was certain
Comfort and success would be my guerdon
But the world turned me away
Snubbing all I had to say
All my hopes and talents were for nothing.
Now, I'm growing older and more broken
And the sleeping world is still not woken
My beard gets grayer by the years
My eyes get wrinkled by my tears
And I feel less hopeful for tomorrow.
Her name is familiar, most
Everyone knows her, well, not the
REAL Her:
Because I can't prove what
I know to be true, she gets
Away with
Snubbing me in her contests
Many times I've thought about confronting her
About it, but why bother when
She’s not going to admit it or change? She'll
Keep doing it, her mask of fairness, her shield
7/21/11
for "It's mask time" contest
Susan Burch
tercets
Forged from absolute luck
housed in pure, pious pluck.
- an ivory iris - It took some work.
Soaked my clay many times
in the juice of sour limes -
snubbing barbs from my peers, "you stupid jerk!"
It stripped the brass from this loon
in the sight of the moon
rubbing sand in blisters, catching my breath.
Now as the grandeur fades
I will, as grace cascades,
fashion an ebony iris for death.
written: Dec 28, 2014
I riff flecked about thee august
Autumn Equinox 2018,
this polymath learned why,
September Equinox
will be at 9:54 PM,
which spoiler alert thy
learned (courtesy Google),
when Or Sun Wells
crosses celestial equator
i.e. (imaginary line in sky
above Earth's Equator
from north to south), a quiet rye
hit moment occurs
Saturday September 22nd, 2018
(at 9:54 PM Eastern
Time) marks onset
of apple cider
and pumpkin pie
a distinct golden jacketed
matted palette well nigh
paints arboreal swath, sans
quiet riot of brilliant
color, that doth belie
rampant terrestrial, unreal,
and venal degradation aye
temporarily turning a (third)
blind eye apathetically, blithely,
and conveniently shunting aside
eyesore fissured gash - wide
cleft wound, where hide
ding away from
global abuse decried
as feeble effort
ignoring doth decide
fate i.e. as does wrecking,
where precious resources espied
snubbing, and thumbing nose
(figuratively) asper dead
serious portentous desperate
(falling on deaf ears) plea chide
dismissively mocking (bird
den some) prophesying,
whence creator cried
alarming, blaring, and clanging
sounding Doomsday Clock,
where ambivalence unheeded
scathing tragic miss guide
did exploitative testament,
where survival of fittest tried
to the max, viz (courtesy
of *****sapiens)
as Mother Nature dost allied
flora and fauna espied
comprising vibrant biosphere
each betrothed nsync, and guide
ding generic hominids shrugging
(Atlas sized fountain head)
off beholden hide
bound wedded bliss
to the other,
this observer awestruck,
sans whirled, wide webbed biota
adorns terra firmae analogous,
qua expectant wedded bride
named Gaia – resplendent
raiment adorned playfully chide,
when (dark and Stormy Dan
yells) Armageddon
legatee - time ran
out for *****sapiens meaning...
salvation to late for human
knit tee, cuz field day, sans
grim reaper will
glory in field day
whar cross bones
numb skull pay fealty.
Captive of creative-writing programs,
It is specialized job of small groups,
Handy to a few these frantic anagrams
Poetry sadly belongs to sub groups.
We have credited professional poets,
Creative writing teachers at all stage
Composing computer- created poems
Creating illusion of the Golden Age.
These professional poets have secured
Their own niches in academic world,
Like jackals, cry over the milk allured
Over dried-up well they uselessly snarled.
Success assured by work quantitative
Snubbing the work if not qualitative.
+++++++
June 19, 2014
Form: Contemporary Sonnet
Rhyme Scheme: abab cdcd efef gg
Ram Mehta
Eighth Place Win
Contest : Contest No. 9 by P.D.
Rain Returns
Rain showering
Offering affluent tribulations
On the feet of barren tree
Blushing and springing life
Cajoling rain anoint
Holy oil on burnt out soul,
Caressing rain smear
Heavenly bliss on temples,
Murmuring rain
Horripilate espousing
Garden fresh love.
Rain grunts
Slashing violently
Deporting love to landslides
A henchman sleeps at the bell mouth.
Rain mourn
The untimely death
Of love and silence
Song of Silence
Rain sneaks off
Snubbing of burning chest
Rain sneaks off
To unreachable reaches
Rain knuckles
Fleeing to terrains ahead
Making us heavy hearted.
Sweet hope has taught no truth more fair -
the soul should like a garment wear
divine righteousness; mine, threadbare.
I'm stunned by doubt that passes by
Christ’s majesty… to edify
man's shallow robes. Feet and hands lie
exposed to the world’s suspect eye,
rough clouds obscure and fog love's sky.
Emotions reign; disdain runs deep;
in dogma’s cup, reactions steep.
Snubbing the Spirit’s sway, men sweep...
rejecting virgin birth; their drill
denying Sonship, overkill.
Launching trust as on a treadmill,
rather than reckoning God’s will.
Devotee daydreams his way uphill
leaving his faith at a standstill.
*******************
written April 22, 2019
William Kekaula's contest: Impact and Metaphors
I've been skipping the sidewalks
of my latter poems,
inhaling jasmine
with open lungs-
but sneering at imagery flaws
with a certain hostility
bullies claim
cursing at fallen language,
snubbing punctuation
then suddenly, quite unexpectedly
it bloomed in me,
perfection will always be over there
just ten spaces away
from pen's reach
So I succumb to humility
and adore the cracks
my heart so carefully construed
with her bare hands
yes, falws and all
RAIN RETURNS
Rain showering
Offering affluent tribulations
On the feet of barren tree
Blushing and springing life .
Cajoling rain anoint
Holy oil on burnt out soul,
Caressing rain smear
Heavenly bliss on temples ,
Murmuring rain
Horripilate espousing
Garden fresh love .
Rain grunts
Slashing violently
Deporting love to landslides
A henchman sleeps at the bell mouth .
Rain mourns
The untimely death
Of love and silence.
Rain sneakes off
Snubbing of burning chest
Rain sneaks off
To unreachable reaches.
Rain knuckles
Fleeing to terrains ahead
Making us heavy hearted .
.
day one
you woke
everything you thought you were before you closed your eyes and inhaled the dreams of your twisted line is discovered to be a lie
a falsehood, trickery, fabrication
disappearing behind a cloak of aberration
crawling on hands stuck to scarred wrists
pilfering life from dumpsters of deception
avoiding the glares of incandescent veneer
snubbing red streaked orbs within the mirror
you woke
purity of thoughts
not meant to be shifted, changed, sliced, diced, redefined, realigned
altered by a syringe of soiled crystalline
caressing an ignorant conscious
boasting to change God’s perfect design
you woke
celestial spirits scraping scales from your denying eyes
looking down to discover god created you
to look up knowing
One day, you woke
sober
(thank you All Poetry, Facebook, family
Poetry Soup,... et cetera global friends.)
A network of cherished kinships allied
forged, and linkedin analogous
to union of groom and bride
thru electronic bonds engender intrigue,
nonetheless unconditionally accept,
no matter I chide
self, and reference mine existence
as if...this mortal already died
now more appreciative than ever,
cuz younger days witnessed
peers that did elide
me accompanied with relentless
teasing, snubbing, roasting
akin tubby kindled over a fireside,
thus...solitude shadowed me as sole guide
peopled with books
to escape and hide
from so called "real"
webbed world, yet inside
this former grievous
lad through alienation,
emasculation, and isolation no joyride
valuing myself less than a pawn on
chessboard of life
envying extrovert as kingside
station depriving, insulating, and
ostracizing yours truly belied
to Matthew Scott Harris
marginally functioning, and denied
him camaraderie, dating, enjoying
female friendships due
to lack of confidence and pride
and at the cusp of
pubescence...a slow descending ride
into the hungry (anorexic)
maws of suicide,
which ideations hammer psyche,
now aghast how I tried
(without success) to disappear sundering
mine complex edifice
into the wide
abyss of nothingness, hence to treasure
those electronic connections,
perhaps...totally no more'n four score
(and seven years ago)
all told of unbeknown village people
comprising worthy chums,
sans human league roar
ring (okay pardon the hyperbole),
but letting this foo fighter explore
a greater range of interpersonal
(no matter virtual), but each
unnamed cyber buddy worth more
than simple rhyming galore
words express, some
or all those who sprung
from Earth, wind and fire,
viz cosmic toreador
this poet would their
physical presence adore,
who realizes genuine experienced love
second best option
communicated thru the Internet...bonjour,
hence please accept at the least
(even thee lovely cousins,
daughters, sister Shari por favor,
a hug emanating from within mine
integrated central processing unit core!
Grass Calls for
More and more
And I water and water.
The Obese: Expires
Hitherto, that grass
Spikingly Winds up by the"Plop, Plop"
Snubbing over the drops.
And Passes.
The Olive Grass
Gawking incessantly out at the flecked Rays
I witness them dance
They post me the murmuring messages
Of the Wind.
Night has stretched its star filled blanket over the little town of Bethlehem
Crickets singing in harmony, orchestrated by the breeze, rustling wheat stems
Shepherds are watching over their flocks
Captivated by the beauty of the full moon when there is no cloud
Town is vibrant with visitors from near and far
Kids are playing tags in the alleys built of clay mud walls
Mothers are humming sweet Hebrew lullabies
Missing their own cribs, babies will just cry
Pain has been excruciating not lessening my joy
Of seeing the promised one, my very own boy
Joseph has been knocking at every and each door
They offer no care but shrugging shoulders and snubbing ignore
The time is near and I just picture the mansion I would want
for the birth of Emanuel, the very blessed Son
Where are my many servants to wrap him in silk
To anoint him with the best fragrant emulsion elite
I wish I had a feather filled bed cushion,
a wooly sheep skin; as soft as the angel who once paid me a short visit
I wish I could prepare a comfortable bedding
for my precious Jesus magnificent coming
Oh my Jehovah, the pain has increased
Where I am going to deliver your prince?
Look! Joseph is pulling our ride inside
At last, I no longer will be giving birth under the staring eyes
Joseph come help me, bring me some hay
Don’t worry about dusty floors, I really need to lay
Bring me the manger and a piece of dry cloth
As I was wrapping him, didn’t he open his beautiful black eyes?
God, how I wonder in your awesome ways
I am a mother who worships his son
You blessed my life with the curse undone
You are the splendid king who has always won
Thank you my Father, for promise fulfilled
For my very own eyes to see the Son of God unveiled!
November 19, 2015
Written for Christmas with Christ - Poetry Contest
Leprechaun Schleprechaun the jealous gnome Ned said.
They will be sorry about snubbing me when I am dead.
St. Patrick’s Day faerie’s emerald eyes rolled around in her head.
The leprechaun will always trump us both, so get over it Ned.