Best Strictures Poems
SONNET FOR THE SILLY
A blessing on all kinds of action silly
Let our God not be a solemn old curmudgeon
The folly that belies the serious dark and chilly
Which imposes stark importance with a bludgeon
For freed of strictures rife with disapproval
The spirit can create with wild abandon
Without constraints demanding the removal
Of that which breaks the sanctity some stand on
I will praise the brothers Marx for their absurdity
And all ‘fools’ who mask high wisdom with the artless
May they lift our spirits when we face adversity
The rejection of such gladness would be heartless
Could it be what we shall hear entering the Hereafter
Is not a harp strings but the sound of joyful laughter
6/8/2019
Categories:
strictures, humor,
Form:
Sonnet
THE MARX BROTHERS or The Unimportance of Being Earnest
I will praise the brothers Marx for their absurdity
As all ‘fools’ who mask high wisdom with the artless
May they lift our spirits faced with an adversity
The rejection of such gladness would be heartless
For when loosed of strictures rife with disapproval
Their spirits could create with wild abandon
Then without constraints demanding the removal
Of that which breaks the sanctity some stand on
So I bless them for activities unbounded
Say our God is not a solemn old curmudgeon
Their folly then belied the earnest tied and grounded
Freed from stark importance laid on with a bludgeon
Could it be they heard on entering The Hereafter
Not only harp strings, but the joyful sound of laughter
10 September
Contest: My Upcoming Birthday Celebrity
Sponsor William Kekaula
Categories:
strictures, happiness, hilarious,
Form:
Sonnet
I engineered an intricate design,
determined to be action,
not thoughtful stasis.
But, isolate and distant --
a preserver of decorum --
formal, unexposed, and safe --
with bounds determined
by tight, sane strictures,
I did not struggle,
could not escape nor abandon place --
became, instead, a creature
habit-ridden: a cousin
to the circus seal
that honks a horn
for fish.
Categories:
strictures, allegory, angst, depression, introspection,
Form:
Free verse
Barefoot Dream ©
A pair of slippers dance along
the surf line, dank chill seeps into
supple leather
Laughter and joy stream out
across the endless waves, a
day’s freedom from society’s
strictures
Stripped of sock and slip’r
toes clinch and let loose the
sandy floor as it shifts and moves
as in a dance, vanishing under
her foot
Dancing on the heads of
ancient warriors, lost sailors,
drown’d lovers
Foamy wet tickles the ankles,
grains rasp and scrape a
hardened heel
Cleansed in the salty froth, tiny
secreted bones ache with
numbing cold
Sodden cotton slaps the calves
A drenched, forever sound as
the grasp of death’s hand brings
her down…
down, down into the blue-black
arms of the cold sea
Trisha Sugarek
Butterflies and Bullets
Categories:
strictures, beach, death, farewell, grave,
Form:
Free verse
Part One
“The Kurral owes much of its popularity to its exquisite poetic form. A kurral is a couplet containing a complete and striking idea expressed in a refined and intricate metre. No translation can convey an idea of its charming effect. […] The brevity rendered necessary by the form [composed in the Venpa metre] gives an oracular effect to the utterances of the great Tamil ‘Master of the sentences.’ They are the choicest of moral epigrams. […] Tiruvalluvar is generally very simple, and his commentators very profound.”
Rev. G.U. Pope, Former Fellow of Madras University
[Pardon these futile measly words from your great Potiya height: they can hardly belittle your true worth.]
Under what leaky hutment roof by stamped-mud floors
trembling clair-oscuro straw-wick kuttuvilakku
on the stark anvil of crisp phrase and sparse syntax
by the raging nama-nir rhyming brine
at Mayilapur’s S.Thomé sandy doors
while peacocks danced to your innate pulsating chimes
have you chipped away at uncut gems
Those the Yavanas brought with the monsoons
or such as your sea-daring captain friend Elela-Cinkan’s
Even those the Christian missionaries preached
in daredevil enticement
after St.Thomas fell to a vel stuck in his bosom
or of those like you who were stamped underfoot
Caste in cast-iron strictures
Priest only to the proclaimer paraiyar drum-beaters
The warp and woof of intricately woven venpa verse
elevating your weaving clan to fresh artistic heights
YET
in the humbled ways of your birth
on whose steps have you pitched your ears
whose wisdom have you had to pilfer
filter
whose ways have you had to ape
whose mere thoughts have you then had to set aright
ennoble
and remould into inextinguishable lines
Or had you tread the ahimsa path of gentle-foot Jains
Treading gently the earth for fear of loping boot pains
(Continued in Part Two)
Categories:
strictures, on writing and words,
Form:
Free verse
LeftBrain thought powers
follow RightBrain warm light and cold dark feelings.
Like behavior follows beliefs
follow repeated warm/cold rituals
follow entrenched belief networks
building walls between appositional changes
of positive/negative trend directions
too often complexly confused
With antithetical divine/human
spirit/nature
outside/inside oxymoronic opposition
where ecological true cannot be a false ego-unlogical thesis
and must be, at least LeftBrain deductively
left not not false right now,
holistically here
in time-spaced flows
of felt health climate passage.
Transitioning revolutionary future thoughts follow past resonant
and dissonant,
healthy and pathological feelings,
and apathetic unfeelings
follow learned and inherited behaviors
follow integral beliefs in past through future eternal memories
felt sacred as DNA enscriptions
toward healthy light integrity
absorbs pathological dark ego-sectarian mendacity
So too,
future ecoschool non-violent instructions
prescriptions
formulas felt
and thought Win/Win descriptive
of past healthy memories
Told and then written down as sacred scripture thoughts
originally eco-theological
following light and dark strictures
felt secularly ecological,
refining risky LeftBrain oppositional limits of thought
defining Whole NonViolent Systems
RightBrain felt as holonically integral Win/Win opportunity,
Synergetic healthy climate thoughts
following feelings for cooperative eco-schooled
ego-listening for WinWin reweaving integrity.
Categories:
strictures, green, health, integrity, psychological,
Form:
Political Verse
Origin of the name Swahili
Or " Kiswahili" ,
One person said , " Iswa ile"
Another person said," Iswa iyi "
Swahili is one of the Bantu
Languages
Like isiZulu , Kifuliru,
Kinyindu, Kikuyu
Xhosa, Chewa, Kivira ,
Kinyarwanda Lingala ,
Tchiluba, Kimakuwa,
Kibemba, Kimasanza
Isivenda, Luganda, Kiluya
Kirundi, Kishi, Kibwari
Kinyamwezi, Isiswathi
Isindebele, Kibembe
Sotho, Kikongo,
Kimongo, Chiyawo
...... so on.
Swahili has little influence
Of Arabic due to Islam in Africa ...
Which does not stand
for its origin
As some people spoke
here
and there
To underestimate
Swahili in the World.
Arabic
And
Swahili have
Different strictrures
And
Grammar
Which prove their big difference
No matter few arabic vocabularies
Are in Swahili,
Same as
In Urdu,
Hindi ,
Persian,
And
So on.
I have never heard
Some people who quoted
About Persian to be originated
From Arabic because of few
Arabic vocabularies
Which are in Persian.
Swahili is Bantu language,
With strictures and grammar
As the above Bantu languages.
June 10th 2023
By Alfonso Warally Ngengethe
Mussabwa Chris
Note:
Iswa: it is a flying insect
which majority
bantu people eat.
"Iyi , ili, " means This...
"Ile, hile" means That...
Iswa hile"ile" means that flying insect,
Iswa hiyi " iyi" means this flying insect.
That is where the name Swahili found its origin.
Swahili people are called
" Baswahili or Waswahili "
Which can stand for Swahili speakers
also.
Authentic Swahili is of DRCongo ,
because it has 1% influence of Arabic as
Muslims don't reach 2 % of the populations.
Categories:
strictures, 12th grade, africa, arabic,
Form:
Other
Countless generations lapsed since height of Greco-Roman mythology conceived, birthed and populated vast canopy of sky and expanse of terrestrial firmament, whereat obeisant propinquity quintessentially remains stalwart this day and age as guise dolls dote demonstrably come Valentine’s Day, when Cupid plucked from the quiver, notched in bowstring and launched Eros tinged arrow induces love struck swain to swoon upon a lassie fair, whence fecund female feast proliferates progeny.
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bona fide hormonal hankering didst since Adam and Eve a wake
aromatic, balmy, and captivating as effect from drinking sassafras
kin powerful pulsations viz diving rod erect phallus
creating con fusion pro bono er to enter lips engorged mass
Pussy swathed qua tangle of coiled, kinked, and thatched course grass
Willy wonka with vestal virgin hair line gonadal zone **** embarrass
twig and berries rutting, rusticating, routing and romancing intent
to deflower re: piercing hymen
with nary immune to perdition or déclassé
hello kitty edenic tropic of cancer coital compass
emitting pheromones culling asper a bong
clapping banging brass
intractable supremacy reproductive sport
waging whore with contemporary take
verboten fruit sexual pang thrust forward
omnipotent magnetic thirst to slake
unstoppable passions flared unfazed as annals
depict how hot coals feet did rake
despite hollow religious strictures obloquy,
the serum filled genitals did quake
infiltrate historical manifestations, naked humans
prey zing clear or opaque
deities of yesteryear demonstrable
bas relief showers copulation doth make
primal urges imbued *****sapiens
e’er since first man saw lady of the lake
triggering libidinal longing inducing salivation sans love struck drake
multi-tiered mouth watering orgasmic gastronomic carnal cake
Aphrodite spellbinding storied sport thrives inducing heart break
imbuing human guys gals feverish enthralled dizzy catnip behoove ache.
Categories:
strictures, adventure, age, animal, body,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
When I was a boy
I thought I saw God
with the face of a Pharaoh
riding towards me at midnight
in a golden chariot, pulled by horses of burning gold,
they moved downward out of the deep indigo sky
like a stream of smooth flowing lava,
somehow my soul zoomed up to His zenith
and the city of the Lord
was a circuit of celestial symmetry before my eyes,
and here I am as a restless man
massive in megalithic flesh
with bits of divine scroll on my teeth
seeking to speak the strictures of individual sovereignty...
J.A.B.
Categories:
strictures, creation,
Form:
Epic
Author Note: Anapestic tetrameter: two unstressed syllables followed by a
stressed syllable.
So I queried some poets who dance 'cross our pages,
With such lightness and patterns and passion-filled phrases.
"When your guidance is sought by one earnest and wide-eyed,
Do you deign to reply just to prop up your self-pride?
Do you tell her, 'It's simple, just read all you can
About me and my writing, how fluid I am.'"
Or perhaps you're a mentor by nature and offer,
To pry open the portals and share like an author,
Who reveals all his notes although mental they be,
And takes pride in the craft of his new devotee.
Yes, 'mong even the great ones (we've heard of a few)
Magnanimity faded as rivalries grew.
So our resolute neophyte meets with the names,
Those whose art she reads daily, and counsel she claims.
With the confidence born of a spirit secure
Many veteran artists opine to be sure.
Some are eager to share of their passion for rhyme,
And the metrical rhythm and pacing they find
so essential to verse in traditional form
With the internal metronome setting the norm.
"Yes, but what about consonance, diction and sound,
And the imagery seen in a free verse unbound
By the strictures and structures of metrical scheme?
Non-traditional verse deserves no less esteem."
In the end all agree that emotion's the key.
And the soul of the poet must yearn to be free
To give access to mystery, tragedy, joy,
Be the uncensored voice that will sometimes annoy.
Let your passion be sovereign, your unrivaled guide,
You are artist at canvass, palette at your side.
Author note: In the last line, "palette" is here pronounced with the accent on the
second syllable, as in French. Thanks for reading.
Categories:
strictures, inspirational, passion, philosophy, passion,
Form:
Ballad
Soul Consciousness
Is it the consciousness of the soul we seek?
Or the “conscious” mind in search of its “soul”.
For the soul resides in the eternal unconscious,
is ever present in the eternal – present – moment’s
subtle “animation” of the physical,
stimulation of the mental.
My soul…..the essence of my being
has existed for all of time,
is but a particle of the whole
an aspect of the “deity”,
a facet of creations desire for fulfillment
seeking union with its purpose.
My soul is consciously aware
of creations incompletion,
of the need for men and women
to acknowledge themselves
as the envoys of creation,
unite in bringing the state
of heaven – on earth.
For the extrapolation of the words
“and they were in one place with one accord”
would bring into effect a
vibratory validation of the belief
that “we souls” have a responsibility
to sound a conscious tone
in word, in action, in living
not bound by the strictures of a credo
but of a soul consciousness
vibrantly animating our being.
John G. Lawless
5/22/2016
Categories:
strictures, life,
Form:
Free verse
Wake! and see the extent to which you’re still enslaved
enslaved by your own kind who hanker after conditioning platitudes
the clubby comfort of secretly oath-taking power cliques
Wake! O! Asia! Wake!
Remember! Remember Haidar Ali his son Tipu and Akbar
remember Sivaji and Chandra Bose and Kattapomman and Asoka
remember O! remember the one and only Mahatma
Wake India! O! Wake!
Wake! India! Wake! and see how your destitute generations are shunned aside
in infested villages sans drains sans potable water sans hope
see how they’re bound in mantric incantating castiron caste strictures
Wake! O! India! Wake!
No where else in the world are humans so in-humane-ly stratified
what proof have the Brahmins to issue forth from Brahma’s head
who proclaimed them the chosen elite on top of the Indian pile of castes
Wake! O! India! Wake!
Wake! and see how your northern brethren have cast off their spiritual shackles
even if they had abjured the path of the just to yoke their bodies
yet for each child a vaccine a soja-filled stomach to keep slavers away
Wake! O! India! Wake!
Wake! O! India! Wake before it’s too late!
for your own kind are about to enslave you once all over again
and the old master needs hardly despatch troops to proclaim his divine law
Wake! India! Wake!
Wake and watch how your elite ape and espouse the ways of the old master
how for an air-ticket a stipend per diem they would do you in without compunction
how for some lions memberships in select clubs they’d betray your own true kind
Wake! O! Asia! Wake!
Wake! O! Indonesia! Wake and see how the G.N.P. in Singapore
far outweighs that of the former papal Portugal now
how the four fiery Eastern Dragons no more parade in papier maché garb
Wake! Indonesia! Wake!
(Continued in Part One - 3)
Categories:
strictures, inspirational, old, old,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
2/1/23
Shout out to Einstein
How has it not already been a sign of the times?
What a tragedy the way that Christ died
Too real it's lifesize
To this day we got all these wise guys
Full of white lies
Critically endangered species, while humans live with nine lives
Bodies of water becoming quite dry
Or turning into a high tide
Products on a continual price rise
Looking up at the night sky
What good it did for me being a nice guy
Only to be stabbed in the back by knives
Over five times
Experienced firsthand and seen through my eyes
The corrupt continue to hide crimes
Controlling public knowledge as they disguise finds
So out of the loop as time flies
I'll admit
Across all continents
People want peace and quiet or acknowledgement
Actions come with consequence
Or the opposite
I'm always on intoxicants
Yet to permanently call it quits
Remaining off the
Took y'all long enough, do you got the pic?
Sick of hearing it, you're too soft
I don't want what you want
In my mind more important matters do haunt
Grew up a poor kid
I'm more concerned with our origin
Than taking sides with all these opposing forces
I search for evidence on Aliens
Instead of just studying *****sapiens
They're upset by my actions, but I can't relate to them
I will do my best to study the unknown
Since they deny it all when so much is shown
Constantly they just judge and drone
So quick to paint pictures
Toxic like the fumes of paint thinner
The same as taking one too many painkillers
Not even making similar pay figures
Picking fights with grape pickers
Still it's the same strictures
Categories:
strictures, dark, deep, life, poetry,
Form:
Rhyme
The masters of buzz words
used to instill fear
Clutching their pearls saying
“liberals take what’s dear”
Right wingers with their
inescapable nexus
Says its liberals insistent
political correctness
If the “Woke” amplified the
so called cancel culture
The extreme right has weaponized
it for years like vultures
Confining the first amendment,
to burn books and ban,
Limits free speech, squelches
protests, circumscribed all they can
As always it’s the least entitled
to complain the loudest
Claiming they are right and
most patriotic proudest
Canceling or firing those who’s
views don’t meet theirs
Every problem they will
say is the left’s affairs
Not a day goes by that they
don’t say the left will cancel you
Reminiscent of “Stalin”
they seem to take their cue
Conservatives need to breathe
and mind their own house
Take notice what it is that
they themselves shout
Liberals are rising to defend
old-fashion tolerance
Not sitting around trying
to show dominance
Like the illiberal witch burning
preformed by the Protestants
While screaming the loudest
how liberals are communist
Ben Shapiro claims cancel
culture is a left wing invention
When they’ve been doing
it thru history with cancel tension
Canceling those who defied
any of their moral strictures
In living memory, I can show
proof with mental pictures
Colin Kaepernick , Dixie chicks, Nikole
Hannah-Jones, critical race theory and more
The kings and queens of
canceling calling liberals whores
Honestly can’t we all just get along,
stop being so damn righteous
Realize that everyone right
or left we are in crisis
Lets keep it real Liberals are
not without fault of their own
Why can’t we all not practice
what we preach and showing
Categories:
strictures, political, truth,
Form:
Rhyme
Ah! For the sweet rose-tinted days
of endless spiraling time
when we bannister slid our way
to curving morning,
climbed through the rails
of adult strictures
out to own
our
unmapped course.
Allowed mere whim and fancy rein
to take us galloping where it would.
Chance ruled our day --
a horseshoe found for fishing luck
from each springing hour,
or daisy chained to minute's
fickle ways,
a swing on branch, a fall, lost shoe,
direction changing clouds
chased out of view.
We shooed our way
through strewn meadows;
daytime moths danced on
our wrists.
The way home
was forgotten.
Categories:
strictures, childhood, happiness, life,
Form:
Free verse