Best Spry Poems
Tower, buzz and scurry
Oh great resilient city
Ahoy!
Alive. Scramble bustle earth's
ethnicities
On lurid quests--
A pendulum of tantric turmoil and
Blessed harmony
Quixotic city--brash,
Sangfroid merotomized and
Chrematistic--metro nonpareil.
See a myriad melange of
Tortured splenetic
Souls and great spirits
Noble and soothfast
Great city, your hecatombs
Of underground trains
Roar scream in
Hodge-podge graffiti attire
Fat fuming brattling buses
Grunt their huffpuffs,
And nervous cars scissorcut
Impatiently betwixt tarred and
Cemented streets
August and capacious
Ferruminated grey glass and steel
Towers--Aeeries in obeisance to the
Heavens, erupt in anabasis at the azure
Pearly welkin,
Humming diapasons of marvelous
Melismatic tunes
A gallimaufry of cacaphony and
Sweet sounds--the
Great Metropolis persistently
Thrives.
Streets adorned with sylph fashion
Models, conute churls, street
recrement--dazed and forgotten men,
Enticing shuck and jive
Blandishing street vendors,
Natty brujo business gentry
With their helotry on a
Ferris wheel of daily
Triumphs and defeats and
Cheeky mendicants
Shuffle along allegro vivace
Howling chorus songs amidst a
Torrent of raining dollars and
Coins floating in the skies over
The brazen metropolis.
Snuffling restaurants like hives
Humbuzz the grandiloquence,
Pithy slang and sententious
Persiflage of the day.
A truly syncratic parley
Of passions sentient
Of crimes basilic
Of arts sacerdotal and gratuitous
Of fashions arabesque and outre
Of plays frivolous and profound
Of music sericeous and truculent
Of money pursuits solonic
Of loves ascendant and descentdant
Of rejections mournful and joyous
An e'er persisting cha-cha-cha and
Boogie-woogie of the fierce
Bustling bubbling bold city,
Pendulumming pandaemoniums and
Resolutions, day
Upon pertinatious day.
David John Hart 2003 USA
There once lived a girl named Bri
and it was her birthday
She came up with
a rhyme and it was,
it is your birthday so please
do not freeze the cheese.
It is your birthday, so do not cry
and instead be spry.
Aunika Alch
Age 12
The thought of a fool is spry,
His word is very fast:
The iron men don't cry,
They are afraid to rust.
spry purebred feline
hailing from siberia
snowsquall royalty
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Many things in my yard are no longer needed
faded oversized plastic bat for a toddler batter
green wheelbarrow which I have tried to give away twice
two small seated chairs for tiny bottoms
a cat house the cat never liked
children’s plastic picnic table
I am spry enough today to drag this stuff to my dumpster
But in five years will I be ambulatory?
I think about all the wood ticks lying in wait
ready to jump on me between here and the dumpster
This looks like a job for grandchildren after I am gone