Best Snubs Poems
The raptor and the peacock hence,
Sit pensive on a rambling fence.
The first, inclined to be the host,
Jumped down to claim the nearest post.
The pea averse to snubs or quailing
Moves closer on the weathered railing.
Both immersed in trailing thoughts
Mused on nigh, and what was naught.
The Pea fans its tail in public splendor
Cramped raptor prefers an opposing gender.
He clasps a plume of gleaming thread
To implant it on his own stark head.
On and on, a grueling day
Feathers plucked; cold work at play.
Peafowl’s once featured feathered shafts
Now forlornly bare and subject to draft.
The predacious bird, a cocky thief
Snidely at par, to a native chief.
Clips of sun reveal a shadowy bane
The unlikely pair cast as one and the same
I'm a sad flower
A beautiful mess
A flawed human I guess
But I'm doing my best
To not ruin your expectations
First it was Elepe and fun
Then GAA and pun
Now the fun and pun are gone
There was a time I felt Indispensible
Everyone said I was sensible
I was unadvoidable and unbeatable
Now, Treasure won't reply my messages
Maybe she feels I still savages
I remembered she warned to stop
But I declined because I felt I was on top
Evangeline won't accept my friend request
Maybe she thinks I'm not the best
or I'm just an amateur like Sergino Dest
Maybe I'm just like the rest
Kenny and T-gentle are now on ghost mode
The new them are cold and code
Whereas the old them where my gold
Divine thinks I now snubs her
If only she knew she means a lot on paper
And that she is one of those few I won't banter
Even when she piss me off like my sister
The hype are gone
It seems Mr fame have withdrawn
Our vision Twenty-One contract was never born
My BITE have move on
The only one who still believes is Philip
From childhood to adulthood we still got a tight friendship
There are times we throw fist when we discuss premiership
But I guess that is the spirit of comradeship
I know the world don't give a about my punchlines
But they would when I start making headlines
By then your call would be buzzing my phone lines
And I would only pick it up when it is nearing the deadlines
French madamoselles Favorite harmonica music Cafe
Perfectly poised coifferd perfumed elegantly sipping in
Floral velvet suit gloves hat matching shoes+handbags
Sitting gossipping giggling intoxicating atmosphere
Exclusive Famous impressionist artists french cafe
Gladly accomodates all dogs from first class owners
Pink diamonde studded chihuhaua , Lola+pink poodle
Huge bulging eyes wet little nose snubs all doggy bags
Pink poodle ,Pepe patiently waits to order chicken pate
Waiter white apron whips pencil behind ear Anticipation
Accepts her envelope on small silver tray + huffs away
QUEEN OF HEARTS
Queen of Hearts, delightful and red,
Baked some tarts, or so it is said,
Left them to cool on the windowsill:
Knave of Hearts then ate his fill.
Queen called the King to remonstrate -
Court-royal was assembled to adjudicate:
Knave was guilty, plain to see,
But the court-royal set him free.
Queen called her queen-friends, spades and clubs.
They agreed it was the grossest of snubs,
Suggested punishment for the King so red:
No dinner, no tv, no sleeping in her bed.
More tarts were baked in fulness of time.
Eating them was made a serious crime
By Queen’s new red husband,
The legally reliable King of Diamond.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Written for Paula Swanson's Contest "Pick A Card, Any Card"
Grief comes uninvited, like a marauder,
like a one man army charging,
he makes an unexpected onslaught.
A thief in the dark who comes stealthily,
without pausing to seek permission
and settles in the heart like an intruder
His stay is long and tedious.
He eats away our vitality,
sups on our vulnerability,
sucks our life sap and fattens on our gloom.
Like a tenant who hasn’t paid
a single dime as rent, he invites our wrath!
Even under threat, he would never vacate
It is at night, he revels
and makes the most fierce onslaught
He snubs out our sleep, disturbs our calm
Wide eyed, we have to watch
the nasty antics of this tyrant
He drives out all hope,
battles with our cheer,
evicts all positive vibes,
and invades the entire space.
Weaving sticky gossamer threads
to ensnare all happy thoughts
which come our way and like an ugly spider,
he arrogantly dwells in our heart!
__________________________________
Sept. 11.2022
~ Placed First~
Pick a Title, Vol.32. Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Edward Ibeh
I rest
I rest on a stump
the trees gone
My tree
I planted it
watered
nurtured,pruned
Watching it grow, sturdy and determined
against life's insults and snubs
My tree
I left alone because it reached the required height, I took care it didn't get Dutch Elm disease or some other blight.
Still this healthy tree has felled surely as if by a lumberjacks hand
I rest on the stump because I am tired
and it is what I know,
It's what I do now.
This mussing, its not a
"Giving Tree" fable,
cautionary tale or lecture about randomness.
It's a spotlight on my illusion of protection
I can't really protect him against much
maybe
a winter flu
or Dutch Elm.
certainly not Schizophrenia
Every dawn starts an extreme desire
A desire to have her by my side,
May be cuddle her,not even kissing
That alone can quench my thirst for her
I know she doesn't love me
She has proven it severally
But my heart won't listen
It's firm and stubborn for her.
It lures me to calling her at night
To disappointments,no answer
Just like she didn't answer last night
'May be she's doing the dishes'
My heart would murmur to me
But frankly its much late for dishes
'Then may be she's out to pee'
It'd respond quickly.
She snubs me, deliberately
I've seen her go out with Ivan
And yeah,I confirmed they kissed at the party
My best poem ever,I wrote to her last summer,
I found it in the dustbin, ramshackled
She's called me a fool,idiot,gobshite
Moron...let me conceal the rest
But my foolish heart won't listen
It's firm and stubborn for her
It's called desperate love,
May be you're a victim
But your heart just murmured
'Of course you're not'
Just to blindfold you.
What can I do?
I shoulda seen it comin’ my way -
The Judgment Day
Bears the brunt of judging as gold
Rakes piles of entries, old and new
Insists - "completely up to you"
As long as you do as you're told
Note, read the blog to make it through
Submissions, like lava, pour in
Tempting many soupers to win
Review as you give it a shot
Ace of Judges snubs dull and bland
No to acrostic, rhymed or not
Dare I disobey Brian Strand
Strand’s contests I deem Brian’s Blast -
Meaning high praise and no shade cast!
January 4, 2023
I'm tired of all the confusion.
I'm tired of all the strife.
I'm tired of all the anger,
That pulls the joy from life.
I'm tired of all the hatred.
I'm tired of all the pain.
I'm tired of hoping for the best,
And counting loss not gain.
I close my ears to unkind words.
I turn my back on strife.
I don't hear your slurs and jibes,
That cut just like a knife.
I don't feel your insults,
Or your snubs and stares.
I've only lost the strife you bring.
Go tell someone who cares.
I haven't lost a single thing,
No loved one or a friend.
All I've really lost is stress,
And worry in the end.
I’ve watched the soldier give, crimson blood,
heroic sweat, and fallen comrade tears.
I’ve pondered at the ignorance of society whose,
stated they’ve wasted days, months and years.
I’ve seen our soldiers suffer, for a mission others
now see as being in selfishness vain.
I’ve watched as humanity snubs the truth;
our troops are ferocious and brutally insane.
I’ve observed our blanket of freedom, now sport
vast ragged holes and tears at the seams.
I’ve witnessed the fraying of Liberty, which our
soldiers delivered thru crimson hopes and dreams.
I’ve viewed the injured and disabled, now home
after serving their country honorably.
I’ve grasped societies notion, the troops are
now merely a number like me.
Show a little kindness
To everyone you meet
You'll never know the story
That makes them all unique
Everyone has a tale to tell
Some happy some are sad
We all can be affected
By the kind of day we've had
So if your waitress snubs you
Or a clerk is less than great
Showing a little kindness
May help to change their fate
Instead of scorn and ridicule
Help 'em above the fray
Pass along some happiness
So they may find their way
Show a little kindness
To everyone you meet
You'll never know the story
That makes them all unique
© Jack Ellison 2012
Celebrity Dreamscapes
Washington
Wall Street
Hollywood
Nashville
Where regurgitation overflows
And Barmecidal bait boxes
Morph their delights by the hour
All the while
Gluttony's promised feast
Ignorant of cyclic famine
Awaits the pernicious fate-agent
Scouting to burrow like a weevil
The new crop of innocence
Trusting destiny to the winds of chance
Confident redolent success smells
French perfume
Garlic enhanced delicacies
Fresh tanned leather of opulent travel
Are theirs to have
How fragrant the illusory air becomes
The temperature of anticipated fortune's shift
Where once a round-shouldered indigent freshman pounded doors
Now seemingly triumphant
Unknowingly erect as a naked rose stem
With yesterday's portent of rich reward
Rapidly sheds its petals
Mulch for tomorrow's next planting
How fleeting the enigmatic feast of notoriety
Time's incumbent qualification
For re-introducing innate principals
Cautioning today's attention
Is but a requisite for tomorrow's elusive truth
Yet
Fearful of fruitless coming years
Too few embrace cognizance over
Fading Klieg lightsParty snubs
Absent red carpet entrances
A maître d's forgetfulness
Yes
The harvesting of one's experience
Might suffer drought and winds
Scattering past efforts
To but memories of dust
Rather than priceless benchmarks
To reveal the authentic self
Yes
Such a disposition may well make "Being" difficult and distant
Where the "take a number and be seated" readout at DMV
May well become a feared test
Where waiting
Becomes a ticking-off-process
Asking if one can hold onto the simpler distant past
Those surprising coming-of-age sensations
The first time rewards of libations' survival
The generous thank you once felt by the first kiss
And yes...
One's elation upon receiving that first driver's license
We think
We review
We ponder "what price" aspiration
Ambition
So often blind to trickery
Frequently stumbles upon start marks
Not meant to be
Distant finishing lines
Not meant to be reached
Still
One can take a number
And eventually hear one's name called
To be who you are...
Or not
I respect not the cruel world!
Brickbats at me it ever hurled!!
As a human, me it forgot!
The cruel world, I respect not!!
I do not know… how I survived!
Parental love I was deprived!!
Many snubs I did undergo!
How I survived… I do not know!!
As a stray man, me people stamped!
My freedom wings, they ever clamped!!
Upon me they did place a ban!
Me people stamped… as a stray man!!
A piece of you to crush in rubs,
Tender heart in fury and snubs,
Lies in wait to cajole in cues,
As night sparkles to various hues;
I would fleece you with temptation,
Aflame delight in sensation,
Grapple your heart to touch my passion,
Before we shed our confusion;
Ebbed nausea within my desire,
Ignites to burn loves fire,
Timid in total surrender,
In love debase each offender;
Paint moments red with raptures,
Let you flounder in captures.
YOUR OWN WELL
Drink waters from your own cistern
And the running water from the plunging pools
To and from your own well
You will be not taken
As the disciple of the witch reveries
But, becoming developed well and dwell
In sonnetic poem of the man in certain
As know knowing not the snubs.
Relevant and reality of hell’s window
So-and-so clamming nor above nor spawn
In basket of top toddy topping poles
Spec the dug, confess and forsake
Perfecting in the request of the sin quest
Futurity in sonnetic stonec purity of reality.
ANTHONY Abed. H