Best Soiree Poems


Premium Member Sunset Soiree

  "Sunset Soiree"

Sunset sleeps gently
embracing creamsicle clouds
golden eyes weave dreams.

Yellow horizon
Heaven's shadowed silhouette
twilight canopy.

Potpourri of light
Earthly umbrella sundown
magical painting.

Sheer magnificence
silky cornucopia
flame glows God's sweet breath.

*For Nathan's Your Best Haiku Contest ...
*July 12, 2012

Premium Member SERPENTS’ SOIREE

SERPENTS’ SOIREE
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Slinking silently, a slithering sight,
Seven silly snakes, under starlit night,
Sassy scales shimmering, shining so bright,
Sipped sweet scotch, subtle, smooth, and smokey,
Seeking to score and swap silly stories.

Premium Member SQUIRREL'S SOIREE

SQUIRREL’S SOIREE
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sam the squirrel, sprightly and spry,
sought a soirée under the sapphire sky.

With acorn appetizers and nutty delights,
he danced with delight through the dappled night.

Chirping chums and critters abound,
cackles and chuckles, a charming sound.

In a twirl of tails and a flurry of feet,
Sam spun in circles, a soiree sweet.


Golden Soiree'

Crisp leaves gaily dance
As red and gold parchment gowns
Swirl on Autumn winds






Inspired by Abe Lopez' contest, Haiku Seasons

Premium Member A Magical Soiree

Going to see the beloved Nutcracker Ballet
Tchaikovsky's music, has enchanted us to this day
So familiar to all
Both big and small
A masterpiece for the ages, a magical soiree


© Jack Ellison 2015

Ghost's Soiree'

Boys Dance

Ghouls Prance!


Aesthetic Fireworks In a Soiree

Sparks of golden quarks
Amazing particles of heart
Pyrotechnic shower
Too fine 
Almost from cloud nine
Rise from the articulation-flood
In the fulfilled flow of fascinated blood
As effusive praise in Aha and Wows
The moment a poet finished an Urdu shayari in a mood of sunset
Like in the couplet:
“If someone were to listen, one thing I will opine
Love is not a crime forsooth it is grace divine”
in a poetry soiree
in a gleaming evening

I can see in the frame of my mind’s eye
Those soul-sparkles in a diamond glow
With jaws distended in a gape
In a variety of shape
Beautifully blowing up
By the chorus of wows, and wah wah
In the wake of delivery of the rhythmic couplets and quatrains
Fine grains of pain
Pomegranates in pleasure
In poetry or shayari
Also called “Sher”   
And then the sparklers from the listeners taking illuminated seats
On the trees in the garden
Looking resplendent with those fireworks of satisfaction
Grand vocal pyrotechnics of the artistic colors inside our soul
Our whole world now at the goals of releasing 
The ingrained heat and light
Into softly loud appreciation and approval from the aroused assembly
Of pink interest
An aesthetic quest
in the bird-like flying of the eloquent firework
The sophisticated atomizer of stirring pyro-spark
A soul-stirring recital followed by the sparks of applause
From the embers of the latter arise another shayari
On goes the reciprocation  
Of passionate oral fireworks of elation
Quarks in the pulse
Shower of polished spark
In sublimation of our basic dark
____________________________________________________________ 


June 5, 2016
For: Fireworks for Me – Poetry Contest
Sponsored by : Julia Ward
Note: 1) Shayari is a musical form of Urdu poetry… - Wikipedia 2) Wah - Used typically to express admiration -Oxford Dictionaries ( Internet)

Soiree

Soiree

We
Are “odd.”
Invite        us,
And  we  will  come
To    your   grand   soiree
And mingle with your friends,
Speaking  our  uncensored   minds
The  nicey-nice  types  always  frown
Oh  no,   it’s  getting   late!    Nine-thirty!
Time  to wrap  it up.   Thanks  for having us!
So,  now   you   have  a  decision   to  make:
It’s    a    simple    question    of    values
Ours  we  showed  by  being  ourselves
Yours  will  come  out  in  the  wash
Were     we     embarrassing?
Status      unconscious?
Does that matter?
We won’t wait
By     the
Phone.

Ebb
And flow
Of friendships
Just like the tides
In sometimes, then out
No   sense   in  fighting    it
We’d   rather   not   hold    water
That    wants   to   return   seaward
Not     selling    or    buying,  just  being
Popularity?   Sounds  like   a  lot of  work
Foregone,  weighty  codpiece of normalcy
Just waves, rippling on midnight seas
Flow  towards us if  we suit  you,
But    only    if.   Happy   with
Each  other’s   company
Or   even   my  own
E v a n e s c e n t
precious time,
spend with
care.

5/5/16
© Thomas W. Quigley

The End of Spring Soiree

~^~

~~^^~~

in the early month of May
sunsets pink & orange in Santa Fe
in a top down purple Chevrolet
radio rhythm songs do play

~^~

car club cruise is underway
Impalas, Novas, Chevys on display
route 66 rockin' in the U.S.A.
at The End Of Spring Soiree

~~^^~~

~^~

Premium Member A Magical Soiree

Going to see the beloved Nutcracker Ballet
Tchaikovsky's music, has enchanted us to this day
So familiar to all
Both big and small
A masterpiece for the ages, a magical soiree

Our Xmas Soiree

Hip hip hurray it’s our Christmas soirée
With Georgia and Mark and Hugh and Ray
This is the only time we meet
To kiss and hug and meet and greet

There’s Sam and Maureen and Fred and Doreen
And not forgetting our Great Aunt Flora
She’s unattached and lives alone
A favourite Aunt, the kids adore her

And then of course there’s Uncle Michael
Arriving on his brand new cycle
Not forgetting Freya and Joyce
Travelling in style in their vintage Rolls Royce

Of course our dearest Grandma Elsie
Who travels down to us from Chelsea
Boarding the train at Victoria Station
With a hamper of goodies from Fortnum & Mason

Dear Auntie Edna and Uncle Howard
Last year, too much food they devoured
They sat in the corner both turning bright green
With bulging great tummies ~ a sight to be seen

But for Phyllis and Jim who are both rather thin
We baked them a cake all scrumptious within
With sugars and spices and all things nices
They have now become vegans eating all things rices

My niece and my nephew Rosie and Jim
Were totally legless ~ what a state they were in
Whilst Jim with a grin drank a bottle gin
Rosie got merry with my bottle of sherry

Dora and Flora second cousins once removed
Are extremely outrageous even borderline rude
They talk about everyone else in the room
Like a coven of witches flying off on their broom

Flirtations ~ Frustrations ~ even Hospitalizations
all welcome to attend our Christmas celebrations…

Written 7th November 2018

Contest COMPLETELY YOUR CHOICE 35
Sponsor Brian Strand 
1st PLACE

Contest "X" contest
Sponsor Constance La France
HONORABLE MENTION

Seagull Soiree

The Seagull Soiree
Is underway
At least a thousand of them
Fill the sky
In seemingly haphazard
Flight
Stopping and starting
As they’re darting in the air

But perhaps they are really doing
Their farewell dance to summer
Swirling whirling
Laughing and squawking
Their avian talking
As they head off 
To parts unknown

So long, Summer Seagulls
Until we meet again




September 5th 2009

Cerebellum's Synaptic Soiree

Lifted lightly from familiarity
Sleep's gesture caresses cells
Taken to nearby bewilderment
Where stagnancy busily dwells

Liquid lambent shooting star forms fragment
Vapid vexations vanquished in fantasy's fire
Mist masked span transcends measurement
Vision's fusion surpasses language quagmire 

Imprisoned waking cognition 
held in category's secure structure 
Dispelled impediments crash cascade
preceding sleep's redeeming tenure

Ignited sizzling spiral whimsical continuum 
Themes undulate with kiss and chase thrill
Trauma's feather sinks, treasure 's stone floats
Detached components reconcile at will

Dream chariot leaps easily 
Obliges unassuming passenger
uncover unique anecdote
Intriguing as a stranger

Driven chivalrously soaring splendidly, lured enticingly
Revelling in brain' s carried captivation sole function
Travelling happens spontaneously without momentum
Contented centre offers converging clock hands junction

Revelations ripple, expanding truth
Roller coaster riding outside reality
Symbol's eventual meaningful messages
rise as a halo, impartial to gravity 

Reason's region, sensible staid evades taboo
Indetectibly dilating pineal stillness vibrates
Untouched pastures in sleep domain permit oblivious
From fences of accepted, dream's newborn liberates

Catapulted! 

Conscious corners sent as envelope ratified 
deliver obvious, wafting surreal's torment
Clumsy clambering of mind identified
hankers for hibernation's brief dormant

Soiree

Merciless in your rebukes you walked up to me,
subtle, substantial, sophisticated & sarcastic & I liked
every minute of it, I liked the shame & humiliation
you put me through, the crystal chandelier
that was the highlight of my disgrace
the way our lips almost touched, but not quite
for you pulled them away just in time to leave mine
hanging in midair. You were stunning & dazzling
in your dark evening gown with the jewels
wrapped around your neck & the pearls dangling from your ears,
I would have liked to have more of you, test you, taste you, try you out,
touch you, tussle with you, breathe you in, savor the succulence
of your skin, steal you from the moment’s void
before the walls collapse, eclipse, cave in,
but you had to walk away, you had to rein in,
leaving me with nothing but a lasting sensation
of a rude & abrupt dislocation
from something that was almost immortal,
the transient lucidity of a wayward waltz with a dream

Father's Day Soiree

My writings
Are nothing more than an excuse
To fill a heart by your beats
...
My writings
Are still in its infancy
To understand where is your seat
...
My writings
Are keen walkers, but sometimes paralyzed
To give a reflection of your being
...
My writings
Are far from paper, in a lineup
To arrange our nightly virtual speech
...
My writings
Are shouting a hidden turbulence
Of reviving every sec you've been slept
...
My writings
Are nothing more than an old training drill
To learn a stand after my pen is wet
...
My writings
Are going to feed every basket of poor
who survive on ink, not only by food
...
My writings
Even if are confined to your leave
Can still be a legal kickback for your door
...
My writings
Are posting to those who judge
Not a jury, but a secret diary to address you more than more
...
My writings
Drop by drop are captured by paper
To give what the lines too long are hungry for
...
My writings
Are sometimes moving beyond the words
To give what your silence could be grateful for
...
My writings
are sucking the lines of my drafts
looking for each point your breath is rewarded for
....
My writings
is a nightly gathering of all illiterates
can heartily read but not understand you left more than more
...
My writings
are all uneducated and gotten stuck at periods
waiting a space to kiss you on a persian lore
one day a lost word come up from missing line
to smell you again one time more
............................
Researcher & poet: Mostafa Sarabzadeh

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