Best Studious Poems
Vision, a window divine, open wide to aspirations of heart,
A lens paramount, for perusing aesthetics of beauty and art;
A sight beaming imagination, on ambitions of curious soul,
A focus coherent, shaping impulses, passions studious cajole.
A medium of communication, an engaging lure of romance,
An infatuated response, a jubilant hint of enamored glance,
Blossoming in language of love, without utterance of word,
Extolling meaning amorous, that desires romantic spurred.
Perceptive of worldview, on mission to observe and learn,
A journey into the unknown, yearning curiously to discern,
Vision quests for knowledge, aiming to be literate, well read,
Vision peers into future, navigating life’s road maps ahead.
It thrills watching a baby smile, elates in celebration of life,
Saddens when mind summons anguish of grief and strife;
Dejecting violent places, thoughts kindred deeply deplore,
Preferring banks of avid shores, dreams endearing implore.
Vision captures images of life, ruminating in joys and sighs,
Rejoicing in blissful memories, or tearing-up its forlorn eyes;
Reveling in exuberant prairies, vying for flowering springs,
Or shuddering amid barren trees, bearing angst winter brings.
"Wondrous" this dynamic group,
That concocts their hearty poetic soup,
Then sit, then wait, always polite,
For comments that the others write.
But lofty are artistic goals,
As we bear our hearts and expose our souls,
And catapulted into heaven,
When we receive that cherished rate of "seven".
A "six" is like a pesky "B",
Like the one I got in chemistry,
Then pondered of my studious failing,
My heart and spirit, reeling, ailing.
Hunting sevens each new day,
New techniques, a different way.
Isn't life's adventure such,
We hunt our sevens way too much?
Comfort, silence, laying low,
I type this poem, a gift, although,
Should you love these words I write,
A seven will help me sleep tonight.
This is a message to children who lack sincerity in school. Hard work always gives easy success. Whatever hardwork we do during our school days, decides our future for entire life. Its not only about studies but the sincerity which is developed along with it.
This is a story of two brothers.
Who lived together forever.
Both enjoyed the dignity of a patrician.
Well bred with values and tradition.
Sharp contrast of a Strategician and a tactician.
JUXTAPOSITION OF HARDWORK DURING SCHOOL DAYS
Given his druthers, Veerang would skip studies,
Would escape to play snooker and pool with buddies.
A boaster, prodigal spender and his pathological lies.
Hard work during childhood is just about studies, he didn’t realize.
Krishnang, sincere and studious, positive and jovial.
Help to mom, a great company to sisters, extremely capable.
Topper in school, loved by all, he was just so amiable.
Yes, both grew together.
One believed in hard work, another preferred leisure.
JUXTAPOSITION OF HARDWORK DURING ADULT HOOD
With freedom comes responsibility.
It’s not only about us but our family’s and parent’s dignity.
Hard work during childhood decides our ability.
Yes, our capabilities and the possibilities
In a way our acceptability and applicability.
Krishnang, goes for holidaying across nations.
Veerang is still striving to boil the ocean
What an irony, hardwork now is a compulsion.
JUXTAPOSITION POETRY CONTEST
Sponsored by: Silent One
Date: 21st Nov; 2020
A mother struggling through daily burdens
Raises her son to be studious and intelligent
Without any funds for his higher education
When strangers raise enough to pay his tuition.
When a boy in poverty becomes an orphan
And sorrow triumphs with reckless abandon
Evaporating all options with nowhere to turn,
Adoptive-parents take him to a loving home.
A war-zone stricken with death and destruction
Neglects its injured in merciless environment
Till esteemed doctors arrive risking own lives
To care for wounded, volunteering their time.
When a natural disaster ravages entire island
And millions are left without food and water,
A volunteer chef sets up a make-shift kitchen
Feeding millions on the strength of his passion.
Random acts arising from selfless ebullience
Shine a guiding light of heavenly compassion
Delivering against odds with gallant resilience
Exemplifying valiance of strangers in action.
March 2, 2018
Call me Freedom,
For that is my name,
Untamable, wild,
Not bound by walls or bars
Call me Solitude,
For that is my name,
Quiet, serene,
Comfortable in myself and me
Call me Friend,
For that is my name,
Loyal, trusting,
A shoulder for you to cry on
Call me Scholar,
For that is my name,
Studious, hard working,
Trying to reach the stars
Call me Daughter,
For that is my name,
Respectful, responsible,
You don't have to tell me twice
Call me Philosopher,
For that is my name,
Free-thinking, nonconformist
I reside outside the box
Call me Damaged,
For that is my name,
Broken, beaten,
But I still walk on my own two feet
Call me Artist,
For that is my name,
Creative, unique,
A blank paper is all I need
Call me Child,
For that is my name,
Young, inexperienced,
The world a dangerous place
Call me Warrior,
For that is my name,
Strong, unrelenting,
Limits are no match for my will
Call me Anything,
Call me Everything,
I am Light Divine
Born Doris, named for our grandmother Doris Owens,
she is nothing much like grandma.
If anything, I am more like grandma
for my thrifty ways and down-to-earth practicality.
Doris, nicnamed Dorie, how we tease her when we hear
her name like the name of the spaced-out fish on “Finding Nemo.”
Dorie, who we teased as a child because she always dawdled,
always losing track of time; we never could guess why!
In that way, she never was like me, but was more like Dory
from “Finding Nemo.”
Dorie, who like me, is long-nosed and full-bosomed
and of all my sisters, has the most in common with myself.
Dorie, who got confused for me, particularly by our grandma,
the woman after whom Dorie had been named!
Dorie, who got to be the cheerleader I failed to be
but who majored in my field and never got to work as a teacher.
Instead she works today in a place for special needs adults,
working many hours now that she is divorced.
Dedicated, hard-working, studious and conscientious -
in those ways Dorie is the most like me
of all my other sisters.
Who else but Dorie would write me back 40 to 50-page letters
back in the day when all we had was snail mail!
My letters to Dorie I copied off each month as a record
of my hectic life when I was young in college and
also when I was dealing with my new role as a mother.
Dorie, my writing soul mate sister, who probably
does not write much any more and I doubt that she writes poetry!
She is busy working up to 60 hours a week!
But when she writes, her emails are long and detailed
just like mine.
Dorie, in whom I gradually saw differences from me.
More emotional, more hormonal, more maternal -
this is Dorie. More religious and in politics,
the opposite of me.
Despite all that, we love to chat.
We laugh and laugh, as I do with all my other sisters.
Dorie, who like our youngest sister Theadora,
shares with me a fascination for things such as nutrition,
all three of us sharing with each other our recipes
fitness hints, and special ways to boost metabolism!
Dorie, the sister who Mom says "leapt with joy"
inside our mother’s womb right before Mom went into labor
just for hearing the voice of me, her oldest sister.
I love all my sisters equally, but for many reasons,
Dorie is the sister most like me!
March 6, 2019 for the "What's In a Name" Contest of Kim Rodrigues
Sitting having coffee at the classy Brassiere
Everyone is laughing, and they’re speaking niceties
Isn’t it lovely just to sit and chitter chat
Instead of being me in my lonely habitat
Not to be heavy weather, just to be light and gay
Able to flirt with strangers able to chat away
The woman across from me is glorious to see
She chats with everyone, she is so beautiful and free
I bet her life is happy, without much care or strife
She knows what she is after, able to grab at life
Soft spoken and graceful, yet with hunger lush and ripe
Observing her I sit alone, the studious silent type
She smiles softly, and her smile it lights the room
The men are entranced, she attracts like exotic perfume
Oh I wish I could be like her one never alone
I somehow feel out of touch, I’m always on my own
Such happy smiling faces, a young man just glanced at me
I wonder if he’s lonely, he looked but cannot see
The person that is hiding, the secret inner me
Such a lot of giggly laughter, clever chic repartee
The young man seems disconcerted, maybe he’s very shy
Now the woman’s flirting with yet another passer bye
Maybe her head is empty, maybe there’s nothing there
She needs the admiration she needs the men who stare
So maybe I should be thankful for all that’s inside me
She can only see herself, but dear world I see thee.
Gentleman
thoughtful honest
funny encouraging decent
sensible practical plausible durable
unequivocal noble polemic
principled studious
Champion
Delightful Diamante Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Caren Krutsinger
01/15/23
Recital / free verse / Pride
Expectation rushes in
As her silent walk begins
All eyes staring
Watching for a hint of emotion
But none revealed
As she takes her place among the muses
No one breathes as her studious eyes
Examine the two-dimensional codes
Then silence breaks
As both hands spring into fantastical dance
On an ever changing ivory and ebony stage
Mellifluous tones, conspicuously full and rich,
Transport all on an uplifting emotional journey
Ears, minds, hearts and lungs
Feasting on delicious pabulum of spirit
Soon tortuous movements diminish
The fantastical dance declines
With final notes
Striking harmonious chords
Deep into our psyche
Our ethereal journey ends
And we gently land where we began
She pauses, then rises
To a cacophony of applause
All eyes staring
Watching for a hint of emotion as she exits
But none revealed
Save a quick glance & brief smile
Acknowledging her proud parent's pounding hearts
Misting eyes and beaming faces
Recital / tanka / Pride
smooth operator
flawless rhapsody in blue
climax conclusion
cacophony of applause
with proud parents’ pounding hearts
Dear Dan, I sit here every day in class
behind you at this desk, but barely can
I concentrate on what the teacher says,
for you are such a wonderful young man.
Since Junior high, I’ve liked you very much.
I felt entranced the first time that I saw
your sweet cute face and hair blonde like the sun.
But there’s a deeper reason I’m in awe.
It’s obvious your mind is very sharp.
I think you see I am studious too.
I bet we have a lot of things in common.
I want to know so much more about you.
And so I’m asking you out on a date.
I think you like to roller skate like me.
Can we meet at the rink on Saturday?
Your answer I’m awaiting eagerly.
*Dedicated to one of my several school crushes, Dan Olsen.
He never did talk to me and I was a bit too shy in those days
to initiate a conversation with him.
Written Feb. 2, 2019 for Faraz Ajmal's School Time Crush Poetry Contest
Sweet September, see how splendidly she shines!
Subtlety submitting seasonal splendour, she
swamps summer’s splendiferous sights,
by stealthily shrouding splendid scenery,
with suffused sensuous, sybaritic, scenarios!
Sublimely serene, she spatters and splashes
slivers of saffron, sepia and sienna shades,
slapdash over the sedentary summer scene, sending
sightseers silly! Soon, spooky spectres sporting skittish
shadows, surprise and startle singularly sensitive givens,
seeking soothing solitude someplace. Suspicious solo
sentient stalkers, suspecting solo sailors sometimes, shiftily seen
spying on sequestered sibylline, spectator savants, stay silent.
Such suppressed servile sophisticates, spotting smart
Seedy Senators, sitting sloppily slumped - some silently
supine - send sensual suggestive signs to sexy secretaries, as
subdued sartorial suitors stand speechless. Some, sober and staid,
state spasmodic spates of salacious, and sometimes sanctimonious, statements.
Seemingly superfluous, scores of servicemen and seniors suggest
specific superficial senile support services, should shut shortly!
Studious spokesmen suggest scads of spurious suggestions in September,
send scrambled signals, since severely symbolic sentence structure,
should seek speedy severance from sedulous speculative stricture, and
stimulating scattered sophomore senses and sensibility is senseless!
Since scathingly scanning this alliteration, it seems successful!
Hopefully a fun filled frolicking folio with ‘fin-esse?’
Rhymer. September 6th, 2016.
In the vigor of day no cloud, in night's creep thought so loud
the body of your birth shock animated,
where nothing lies or dies
and the only law that can catch you is hesitance
in the heart where your naivety resides
intuition's arithmetic equals defiance
you know that there is lightning in your lamp
a studious savage barks to begin
the State will sear your surname onto the collar and clamp
you only have the right to fight to live, to take the win,
is the heart of a hero infallible
can you become a juggernaut of justice
to no longer rage against the inevitable
the diploma soul tattooed, let love be your witness,
the skeletons and songs of samsara eternal -
I want to thank Poet, Craig Cornish, for introducing
the academic format of Heroic Crown Sonnet to me,
and I am proud to say...I did it my way...
also, I reversed the ryhme scheme for the 15th sonnet,
and the 15th sonnet was not composed prior to
the preceeding 14 poems being written in this composition...Justin A. Bordner
Not For Contest...J.A.B.
Capital of Culture
Come gather the vultures
The Ultras
Pro choice
Who reverberate to the sound of critical voice
They seed that which is worthy to read
Robotic mite's of the proverbial art
They play no part in writing
Reciting guild's of old
They make or break
Jack or Jill
And what will fill
Or fits the bill
Of this year's manic street preacher's
Rights of passage
Managing critical mass
Appeal of form the itch doth scratch
Like pink roof insulation
Under which the heat sealed in
The roof of logic would otherwise dissipate
Bated by the common collective
A studious Prefect of a high school blazer
A self of superiority created
Peers did not give
So they live spuriously out a sense of insecurity
Revenge cast on the scar's that last
Into adulthood
So they seek popularity
Revel in the power
Putting down allows ya
Residing on an Ivory Tower
Of golden showers
Students at Work
See them work!
Studious looks,
Buried in books,
Leaflets flipping,
Binders snapping,
Pencils tapping,
Textbooks slamming,
Nick-knacks toppling,
Back-packs rummaging,
Noses rubbing,
Nail nibbling,
knees flapping,
Foreheads scrunching,
Eyebrows rising,
Lips compressing,
Faces scowling,
Chins supported,
Tongues catapulting,
Coughs echoes,
Work Accomplished!
Form:
Again, I was freed from a mad hurricane
Call it by any name, it's still the same
Two eldest siblings, lost their lives in the dark
Freedom implores fresh start.
I needed to search, to find the right key
To set free, the rainbow that is me
I lied, and lived life as pseudo art
Freedom implores fresh start.
I wove my very own hand-made strife
Piled firewood burned my studious life
I was flown to the U.S., to carve life like a star
Freedom implores fresh start.
Meanwhile, my two eldest siblings made the family proud
From in the days of carefree years, I'd known dark clouds
Sometimes discombobulated, I couldn't see far
Freedom implores fresh start.
Until sky-light rain song transported my soul, as I wept
Until I envisioned my better self in depth
I never saw love, and life from God, as supreme art
Freedom implores fresh start.
Now, I live to learn, and hope my lessons show
I can pause and ponder where I choose to go
I'll wake and meditate, keeping light my heart
Freedom implores fresh start.
*