Best Spectacularly Poems
A coral pink design on glistening ruby tapestry--
Reminiscent of ingenuity of sculptor's blueprints
In scarlet-orange tinges and teal-green imprints
Hanging spectacularly in the cosmic art gallery.
You are the brushstrokes of Florentine artistry--
Verses of poetry scripted in ornate vocabulary
Articulating the vision of a star studded galaxy
Flying in the universe on wings of your beauty.
The scent of purple heliotropes you often vied for
Lingers in search of your golden yellow persona
Since you left the earth floating on dream clouds
Ingesting dusty gases to forge your own replica.
Jealous are the stars of your blushing rose motif
Shaped like a monarch besting your surroundings,
An ornament you are, flashing your royal charm--
Jewel that took the crown from dying supernova.
June 10, 2019
Placed 3rd: Your choice (7) contest by Brian Strand
Placed 3rd:Nifty named nebula poetry contest by William Kekaula
Picture 1: The butterfly
Color my day magical, paint my day lavender.
Throw in some glitter, some glitz and some fun.
A day with good friends, who laugh at the right times,
Who know when to hug, and know when you need to cry,
Staying silent, standing helpfully, lovingly by.
Color my day joyful, and enthusiastically prancy.
I know my friends are coming, so I am feeling quite dancy.
Color my day exciting, color my day glittery with acrylics and neon.
Paint it in fun, wholesome and spectacularly freeing and fine.
Color my day.
Paint it lavishly with oranges and purples.
Throw in plenty of pink, of the hottest and happiest hue.
Color my day magical.
Color it marvelous.
Color it wonderful.
Here are my friends.
Let’s paint them,
But save some of the color
For me, as I want to be as magical
As possible. Rainbow me up. Be daring and wild.
You cannot hurt me; I am a rainy-day child.
(Another childhood or teen years poem.)
Newsprint small talk
in Mediocrity's lead pot
rustles and gossips while,
splashed spectacularly across
the speckled page of
Society's intellect,
a murder making column one
hides the hushed massacre
of minds.
I'm dreaming dandelion dreams,
afloat on a sea of yellow.
And I feel buoyant, as a cloud,
floating on the fringes of sleep.
Sol rises: his gold chariot
igniting the horizon's edge.
And slowly ascends, vanquishing
the last vestiges of the Night.
Dawn's first glimmer of golden light
dissolves ebony silhouettes.
And arouses sleepy shadows,
yawning and stretching into shape.
Blue tints: ink an absorbent sky,
dappled with white cottony clouds.
And starlings squabble in the trees;
as robins forage far below.
Nature's natural masterpiece,
Dawn's spectacularly unique.
And heralds the birth of the day,
with a symphony of color.
This is the woman who repeatedly told us for over two years Joe was as sharp and active as ever, there is no crisis at the border, Joe’s record inflation was caused by Trump, the bungled Afghanistan withdrawal was all down to Trump, Covid spread was all yep Trump, high energy and gas prices all Trump, the Hunter laptop was Russian disinformation, that they did not support defunding the police, the Jan 6 Committee was an impartial bipartisan investigation, that the DOJ and FBI’s legal campaign against Trump was not politically motivated, and on and on it goes. She was the poster girl for the Biden Ministry of Lies.
Ain’t it funny watching all the liberal media and White House staff pretend like they were all duped by a senile old fool for three and a half years. With all their access to Biden and his aides they couldn’t see what any sane person could. That’s corruption on an unprecedented scale. There’s your threat to democracy, there’s your constitutional crisis. There are many here on the Soup who believed it was all a conspiracy theory. That’s next level spectacularly dumb!
This odious woman is the latest to release a book to monetise her complicity and guilt with more gaslighting. The only reason she was chosen as press secretary was because she ticked all the right boxes with DEI. She got to lie to us every day from her pulpit because Democrats value DEI and virtue signalling over ability and integrity. Thus being a black immigrant gay woman was her ticket to the top job. In the real world most of us have to earn our way. Not so in the fantasyland liberals live in. Get your heads out of your ar-se, America.
Can’t wait to see who the next lying bottom feeder is to write a book.
How vast and pervasive is the Moon?
Hugeness hints there stand two
Orbs and a turbulent stream
Simply like the dawning sun
All over the half-moon horizon.
On the shore of credulity
The froth shed detritus and sea salt
Carving a path into level sand
Slicing the weft out of silk
By cutting across the fabric kernel
The waves were sealed on the scanty shore
The furor was in harmony with the dust
Pearl-like seaweed and scrubber.
Moonlight over the Sea at Dawn
It is ideal and so spectacularly tempting
The churning water bred white foam
I am enthusiastic to have the plunge
The tendons, sinews, and guts were all wary
A season invests these twilight hours
Fetch the ache and gentleness
Misleading magnetism
My inner mermaid is hopeless
The moon was merely out of the embrace.
It related me to a no-blue world
Spume was kicked by white ponies
As they did in our fourth year of dreams
Cantering toward the welling of time
In the utter stiffness at the two ends
Do not feel dire about shedding tears
The spectrum of the dull light
We never noticed.
Written: October 29, 2022
My monocle, please,
or if you please,
my spectacles so
I
can attempt to eye
a book with both irises
and which book
to attack first:
the gigantic book of fashion;
it’s
not a lap animal, vegetable
or otherwise;
and the floral pages -
both have large print,
I think.
Oh, yes,
and speaking in tongues,
that is
the craft of language;
a book (oh, yes, quite funny)
on trees (aren’t they the funny things
that we write upon);
and murder!
Murder, you say?!
…those found in the bible.
“What!” say you…
First the death of pleasantries or
pleasant trees (funny, right?)
Then sibling rivalry to the extreme.
‘Thou shall not kill,” did Cain know this one?
or ‘thou shall not covet…?’
All of these emotions, quite the spectacle,
spectacularly so… So what is in fashion today?
Do we like a good murder, on parade…seems
too many do. Jesus flipped the script -really,
he handcrafted the language of love. Love
God first; and love
your neighbor as you love yourself.
Sins brought to the surface.
Love covers a multitude of sins.
It is a sin not to go to the library
and bring home so many friends
that you can listen to.
Don’t kill the messenger.
My monocle please!
Lolly was a Leprechaun
Who lived inside a Tree
A joy little fellow
As happy as could be
He loved a little fairy maiden
Who was called Penelope
And every day he used to watch
Her swimming in the river wild and free
And she used to flap her tiny wings
And fly around the place
In and out of the bushes
With such style and grace
The Blues and Greens mixed in her wings
Shone so spectacularly, and with ease
And the little Red and Blue dress she wore
Would rustle wildly in the breeze
But she rarely noticed Lolly
For he was not her type at all
She was in love with Peter pan
And ran at his every call
So lolly became miserable
And down in the dumps was he
And started staying in his hideout
Beneath the old Oak tree
But the fairy Godmother noticed
What was taking place down by the Pond
And tried to get Lolly to venture out
Down past the old Mill and far beyond
To find another Fairy
Who would love him in return
For he had so much feeling deep inside
And for Penelope he did yearn
As he sat upon a Mushroom
In a leafy glade in Butterfly Wood
He saw another little Fairy
So pretty and looked so good
Her found out her name was Mary
She had a captivating smile
And she was smitten with lolly’s bright blue eyes
So they began courting for a while
Now Lolly was a happy little Leprechaun again
Now true love had come his way
He would sing and dance the whole day through
Since Mary had come his way
The moral of this little tale
Never give up on happiness it may not be far away
It may be just around the corner, down by the stream
Who are we to say
You are a Venus of beauty multiplying at night,
As your City Lights adorably carpet each mountain,
The moon smiles above you with its gleam so bright;
A breathtaking view which a repertoire cannot even contain
In admiration of your panorama springing like a fountain.
The sun rejoices each day upon your vast splendid arid ground,
As spectators stride along your cascading stream of gorges,
You enchantingly cradle them into your bosom blissfully around;
Your architectural stone-mountain range spectacularly astonishes,
You are a Rose City- all is agog with your carved stones in red roses.
Oh, Petra! You’re widely admired with your unique environment,
A treasure of the world, the Nabataeans’ magnificent masterpiece;
A haven of everyone’s dream to ride and walk on every pavement,
Catering sumptuous experience in lavish pleasure making all feel at peace,
And ‘tis ballad of mine isn’t even enough to laud your great wonder and grace.
Nov. 12, 2013 6.36 pm
Petra , Jordan is really a very beautiful city/place! I was there last Oct. 21-22, 2013.
My avatar was taken there;))))
First Place
Contest: Best Poetic Form
Judged: 11/17/13
Sponsor: My greatest poet & sis PD
Fifth Place
Contest: Any Subject, Any Form
Judged: 11/15/13
Sponsor: Poet Charlotte Puddifoot
Whether you're white
or black, or biracial, or check "other"
love and accept yourself, because
despite your feet of clay, you're beautiful
and spectacularly unique.
Be comfortable in your own skin
but refuse to be a prisoner in it.
Be whoever you want to be
without worrying about...
what people think of you
Their opinion is irrelevant
Don't waste your time and energy
justifying yourself to anyone
Embrace your individuality
Embrace your foibles because...
they make you all the more human!
Writing Challenge 1, August 2019 - Just Write - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Dear Heart
Date written and submitted: 08/11/2019
Last night, the "wolf moon's" crepuscular aura glowed.
A luminous peach orb, it hung in its abode
so spectacularly, that I silently slowed
my weekend walk through the willowwacks, while words flowed,
as molten lava from volcanoes would explode.
Its afterimage was like a handsel bestowed,
bewitching in a pulchritudinous yellowed
radiation that etiolated, 'twas stowed
in the recesses of my mind, an episode,
a pageant suspended in mythopoeic mode,
that called out in its classical clarion code -
thoughts emanating from moonlight, my path had showed.
01/14/17
My place in the universe
Pondering my place in the universe
I wondered,
am I really important?
does my life make a difference
in this earthly existence?
Or am I just a grain of sand
being trampled upon by imaginary
gigantic powers?
As I observe the golden globe's
rise and fall each day, in
spectacular array, I realize
that my existence is rather
spectacularly insignificant.
Watching the interaction of light sharing,
the passing of the torch so to speak,
of the greater luminary to the lesser every night
all for the benefit of us earth dwellers
gives me reason to pause.
We are so small, less than grasshoppers
in comparison to our Maker, yet the heavenly skies
in their incomprehensible majesty are designed with us in mind.
Oh now you are having delusions of grandeur you say!
Ok, think about this,
What purpose does moonlight serve
if not to be observed by us?
Who needs Divine guidance by day
and by night?
Does the animal kingdom appreciate
it's glory and give praise to it's Maker?
Or does it require a measure of intelligence
and appreciation for the Giver of life, to
be able to see more than celestial lights
reflecting for our benefit?
Can we not see His Wisdom, Love, and Power
shining through these reflective lenses?
Does not our pondering these celestial reflectors
cause a reflex reaction in our interior?
Surely that is the purpose, and as a result,
my quiet reflections, have become earthly
reflections of heavenly realities.
Just as these heavenly bodies give silent
testimony to their Grand Maker
should I not, as an able bodied human
a vessel of divine light, also give glory
the the one and same Maker?
So I understand, and have come to know
that the reason for all human existence
is to recognize our dependence on
and submit our lives to, and use our lives to give
glory to our Maker.
My insignificant tongue, can at least
be used to declare God's glory, and by
so doing I am reflecting His love for all
humans.
In other words, my place in the universe
is clearly heard, when I raise my voice
and I rejoice, in praising my Creator...in verse.
John Derek Hamilton
May 09,2016
"The Upper Room"
When time expanded
the heart opened -
the mind, like a shell,
spoke like a wheel
turning
the sum of all
towards the central core
the next number
in the sequence
is the sum
of the two before it
to believe in 1
order is found within
synchronicity’s calculation
The eyes watching,
collectively move
beyond fear
leaning into the place
of love, a new language
beyond words, very near
inside
the key turns
we are
a higher form
of alignment,
we are
the conduit,
collectively opening
the door
to the place of all things,
where there is a time
and place for everything,
the inherent divine
of all things
one note,
playing us all spectacularly
the mouth opens
inviting,
inside the cry
darkness like a cave,
speaks volumes
like light
the ears hear
the soul escape
on a vibrational note,
we are mirrors
reflecting the echo
inside us all
beliefs
and thoughts
we are used to,
bound by colours
and separation,
are unhinged gates
now removed from us,
thrown away
we are
love notes open
felt in the core,
not seen,
accelerating alignment
manifestation
the rapidity
of the tone vibration
transformation,
the true eternal
self expression, found
in how you dream
to see
your world
we are
vibrational scores
now opening door,
becoming
something other
than what we
were before
entry to the
Upper Room
Love notes,
we are keys
in vibrational score
(LadyLabyrinth / 2021)
"Heart Chakra Opening"
https://youtu.be/DxMzvUtN3Gc
The bike was loaded and packed
The duffle bag strapped to the rack
The air was crisp when we started out at dawn
In the early morning hours we were gone
Down the road with the wind on our faces
Off to visit some far off places
Headed south down the Mother Road
The bike trailer behind us we towed
We past the St Louis Arch gateway to the west
What a magnificent site I can atest
Stopped to see the Meramec Caverns
The Wine Table formation would look great in an old tavern
Through Cuba Missouri we rode the bike at a crawl
Taking pictures of the murals on the building walls
We rode through Kansas the shortest part of Route 66
On the Rainbow Curve Bridge we took more pics
We traveled on to see the Big Blue Whale in Catoosa OK
In Tulsa we camped out at the KOA
Took a break from the open road freedom
The next day in Clinton we visited the Route 66 Museum
On to Texas we then rode
Checking out the sites it had to behold
South of Amarillo saw the Cadillac Ranch
Got off the bike to walk off a cramp
In Adrian ate at the Midpoint Cafe
We had rode Old Route 66 halfway
On America's Highway we motored through New Mexico
In the distance we eyed Mount Tucumcari's plateau
Visited Petroglyph National Monument outside of Albuquerque
The sun setting on the petroglyphs looked spectacularly
Then we drove past the Continental Divide
Observed red rock mountains along side
In Arizona we finally arrived
By the scenery we were hypnotized
In Winslow stood on the corner like the Eagles song
The memory of that will be lifelong
Visited the Petrified Forest and Painted Desert
By this time we were sunburned and weathered
In Flagstaff we stopped to camp and rest
We spied an eagle tending it's nest
To Sedona rode the Oak Creek Scenic Drive
The views and landscape made me feel alive
Alas our trip was over we had to go home
But on this trip there were so many memories sown
I listen attentively when a lark sings
Singing never a sad song
Singing fondly to fools, kings, all and sundry
Always singing with melody and mirth
Calling at the dawn of a new day
Bringing bright smiles
To even sleep-deprived sullen faces
So soothingly a lark sings; as I listen
Eyes closed
Imagining my mother sweetly singing
A lovely lullaby to me as a child
Arresting my attention span spectacularly
Oh, how it moves me mesmerizingly
With song and make my ears ring with rapture
Indeed, I love listening when a lark sings
Screwed XX Poetry Contest
Sponsored by rob carmack(Winner: 6th Place)
Date written and posted: 04/28/2018