Best Stupefying Poems
oh dear heaven ...
how impeccant …
how subtly innocent and eager!
are you truly as oblivious as you seem?
oh, I am sure of otherwise …
or would there not be so much unsullied skin laid bare -
so few garments that thus adorn the masterpiece?
utter innocence, burning in the motion of your stride ...
a fortuitous feast of flames for the common!
the gods themselves feign deference to such fair symmetry,
and barter the heavens for but a grace of your shadow -
you are pristine virtue, annotated ...
you are torturous fare for the plain and fallow,
and envy for even the inimitable …
innate sensuality trickles from your feathery brow
to your Lilliputian toes, (painted bubblegum pink),
tracing an unblemished dermal landscape
that any hormone-hewn human would consider a dream destination …
you exude a connate allure, inexplicable,
enchanting even the stars -
sky weeping in exquisite anguish for sake of your fluid movement,
saucy, exposed hips,
tossed with coy yet libidinous intent,
their immaculate and fluid rhythm
catching in chests like a cardiac event,
pulling the breath from lungs around you like taffy,
(and not returning without discerned effort),
every gaze in your line swinging in matched tempo,
stupefying all within your affect ...
a mass hypnosis inspired by your walk alone -
ponytail braid and pink ribbon sway in opposite tempo,
adding to the sassy attitude …
eyes, pure white arctic spheres
with polished onyx centers,
set to possess the soul, should they find your focus …
faultless, blue-white smile,
framed by sugar plum lips, shaped to perfect bows ...
oh dear heaven!
such resplendent rapture should they whisper your name!
such divine intoxication should those eyes affix yours!
the gods themselves are weeping wonder ...
the gods themselves!
* SECOND PLACE in the "Free Verse On Love" Poetry Contest, Laura Loo, Sponsor. *
Categories:
stupefying, appreciation, beauty, metaphor, sensual,
Form:
Free verse
oh dear heaven ...
how impeccant
how subtly innocent and eager
are you truly as oblivious as you seem?
oh, I am sure of otherwise
or would there not be so much unsullied skin laid bare -
so few garments that thus adorn the masterpiece?
utter innocence, burning in the motion of your stride ...
a fortuitous feast of flames for the common
the gods themselves feign deference to such fair symmetry
and barter the heavens for but a grace of your shadow
you are pristine virtue, annotated ...
you are torturous fare for the plain and fallow
and envy for even the inimitable
innate sensuality trickles from your feathery brow
to your Lilliputian toes, (painted bubblegum pink)
tracing an unblemished dermal landscape
that any hormone-hewn human would consider a dream destination
you exude a connate allure, inexplicable
enchanting even the stars -
sky weeping in exquisite anguish for sake of your fluid movement
saucy, exposed hips
tossed with coy yet libidinous intent
their immaculate and fluid rhythm
catching in chests like a cardiac event
pulling the breath from lungs around you like taffy
(and not returning without discerned effort)
every gaze in your line swinging in matched tempo
stupefying all within your affect ...
a mass hypnosis inspired by your walk alone
ponytail braid and pink ribbon sway in opposite tempo
adding to the sassy attitude
eyes, pure white arctic spheres
with polished onyx centers
set to possess the soul, should they find your focus
faultless, blue-white smile
framed by sugar plum lips, shaped to perfect bows ...
oh dear heaven
such resplendent rapture should they whisper your name
such divine intoxication should those eyes affix yours
the gods themselves are sobbing ...
the gods themselves.
Categories:
stupefying, appreciation, beauty, sensual,
Form:
Free verse
The car door opened
The first thing I saw
Was an explosion of balloons,
More than I’d ever seen
In my entire nine-year life.
For the first time
We were at the fair
I leapt from the car
Feet running before
They hit the ground,
Knowing I had to see
Everything,
Do
Everything,
Taste
Everything
In just two hours
Before the long trip home
And, I did!!
The drive home was filled
With dizzying, dazzling,
Stupefying memories of
Excitement, movement,
Colors, noise,
Tastes,
People,
Rides.
I had taken in
As much as I could
As fast as I could
Leaving scarcely room
For a breath
Now I finally let it all out
By throwing up
In the back seat
With a loud, “Brrraaaggghh!!
As he pulled the car over
My father mumbled,
“Never again”,
My mother whispered, in reply
“Never again”,
I scarcely heard them
As I shouted,
“When can we go again??”!!
Categories:
stupefying, 4th grade, humor,
Form:
Narrative
A small poem “Thirsty Feeling about Nature and love” wrote by Mrs. Madhavi.
“Thirsty Feeling about Nature and love”
Seating nearby valley side,
Astonished by seeing a nature's serene beauty.
Amidst Grassy hills,
zigzagically mounted on the stupefying homeland.
Pristine Water, Sliding from the highest peak,
Flowing in its own way,
Wondering about its challenging destiny.
Love the way you are.
I owe you for myself!!
Wind's whispered, Cheering in its ain way.
Chanting of music beats,
Recited with a soothing intonation.
Birds speaking eloquently..
Dazzling due to marvellous rainbow..
Love the way you are,
I owe you for myself!!
Amazing and enamoured environment aroused my emotions,
Feeling Shy to express.
Missing my dream person,my Mr.Adam.
Versatile persona where are you?
Come here and hug me.
Fuel me up with spirit.
Gift me a smile.
Until forever fades away, Endure me.
Love the way you are..
I owe you for myself!!
Finished dropping stones in water.
Gladly waiting for your arrival.
Testing patience is all enough now.
Wanted to feel the gist of love.
Desire to fulfil wish with pure heart and soul.
Auspicious moments provoking to capture
Love the way you are,
I owe you for myself
by Madhavi
Categories:
stupefying, addiction, angel, art, beauty,
Form:
Diamante
Following the stupefying sensation of my heart
I take a long and high flight
With the wings of self-deception.
Having some kind of foolhardiness,
I fly in search of green fields
Leaving behind the dreary desert
To sing sweet songs of life.
The warnings of my Prudence,
To stay with my other mates, go unheeded.
The green fields once
Where I yearn to reach
Turn into the burning flames
With deadly smoke
That chokes my throat
And darkens my vision.
And I, no more able to fly,
Fall into the lap of disillusionment.
Wings are fully burnt
And burnt I am from within.
Sobbing at the impulsiveness-my Achilles’ heel-
With a sigh, waiting for the last breath,
I close my eyes.
Categories:
stupefying, betrayal, break up, death,
Form:
Narrative
All in the Game
a call to the
bullpen by time
warner
tie your cleats by
florsheim
everything in
moderation by red
label vodka
plan ahead by forest
lawn
and beneath the
glittering
twittering
insta- scat game
show reverie
an absolutely
electrifying,
stupefying timeless
wonder
a baseball game
walk off win
dodgers 1 padres 0
Categories:
stupefying, baseball, emotions,
Form:
Ballade
40th Marathon For 70 Year Old
Almost in disbelief, I reread the headline of this one particular online piece of news….
A 72-year-old Retiree Just Ran His 40th New York Marathon, screams the title of this news…
Reading on, Dave Obelkevich, he has done the most consecutive New York City Marathons…
For his 40th milestone run, he professed his training has been less than ideal ahead of this marathon..
For this sprightly distance runner, even a hamstring injury and a calf injury were no deterrent…
He aims to again complete the world’s largest race, this hugely popular New York Marathon run..
“I won’t run fast but I know I can finish”, he simply declares soundly his mission in this latest marathon…
Being realistic, he hopes only to finish within a set time to extend his streak of finishing marathons……
The visuals that backed up this news article showed runners amassed in numbers, nothing fake…
Of all shapes and sizes, the news article did state, runners local and foreign, they are here to participate.
Smiles aplenty, hands waving and high fives were in ample evidence of how times have changed…
From little band of dedicated runners to one of a huge big family of athletes and of amateurs….
Reading on, Mr Dave kindly elaborated, today the runners are in running more for the finish…
A great many more are there just to be in the running, never mind how you finish, so long as you finish…
I could feel the exhilaration and the stupefying elation of a successful run should I be there to finish…
I should think the exhaustion pales in comparison to the euphoric sensations when the run is finished..…
After 40 marathons and miles after miles of pounding the tarmac, Mr Dave is still a sensation…
With his spirit, zest and thirst for marathon runs yet unquenched, he awaits for the next edition..
How I wish one fine day, I too can meet Mr Dave the Marathon veteran of 40 New York Marathons…
Like he said, everyone wish to be there and to take in the sights while running the NY Marathon…
I know I will not be able to keep up with such a running veteran, never mind his ageing years…..
But just to run beside such a veteran over a distance, wow, what a privilege to be there….
Just a tribute to a genuine running man
http://www.star2.com/people/2015/11/03/a-72-year-old-retiree-just-ran-his-40th-new-york-marathon/
Categories:
stupefying, appreciation, character, inspirational, new
Form:
Light Verse
the following quite quirky epistle may not exhibit the ordinary characteristics of poetry, but i decided to share this self made challenge (where every word begins with the letter "S" - no explanation can be offered why such self cerebral torture imposed, nor what motivated me to focus on the nineteenth letter of the english alphabet at the exclusion of other noble vowels and consonants.
-----------------------------------------------------------
Sunday September seventh started seemingly same since...silver screen show secured seventy seven SeventhSeals.
Soupy Sales supreme salient strengths (starring smart pet sidekick Springer Spaniel Socrates) salvaged sagging sporting sorties. Slap stick stereotypical swashbuckling shticks supplied shipshape shenanigans.
Spartan stage set spurred spontaneous simply stupefying solution. Suede shod schlemiel. Sartre seasoned scenes. Sharp sticks supported sphere. Seats situated semicircular semblance.
SPCA, Siemens, Sears sponsored soiree. Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious shouted satirically 'specially Saturdays seemingly sellout. Spontaneous spritely Shogun Samurai sangroid stance satiated slipups stripping stellar seasoned Skidamarinks substitutes sacredly, seminally, silently, slipstreaming soulfully saving saga.
Sometimes silly spouse studiously sought spurious strategy stringing superlatives showcasing senseless sophomoric soporific skills specifically spelling storybook sassy sharpshooters supposedly sleuthing shapeless seated sideways (sic seasonal slate smug spotified snapchatting skippers selfishly scooped sloop-ful seasonal six-packs) sinister Swiss scalpers sat sometimes squatted.
Categories:
stupefying, adventure, creation, funny, humor,
Form:
Free verse
What a phlox in you I find,
What a Rose Flower, oh babe:
Bright like early morning sun of xmas.
Succulent “things” like the rightly ripe pawpaw at my backyard.
Oh Babe what a beauty you are to behold –
Making gawping heads not able to eyes hold back,
Goggling eyes round whole streets turning in ogle –
Stupefying sensations sending down signals into phallic organs!
And can I contain this fire of desire?
Down my frame, too electrifying, feelings ductile,
And whole system holding spellbound, as in phantasmagoria,
A deep chill of early harmattan morning.
Oh Babe, I can see the fiery flies of love
In your luscious orbs flying, beckoning for a dear.
But can I be your bee? my sweet sixteen!
To your sweet red nipplenectars suck? like a suckling?
What a phlox in you I find,
Oh Babe, what a beauty you are to behold.
And can I contain this fire of desire?
Oh Babe, I can see fiery flies of love,
In your luscious orbs flying, beckoning for a dear,
Down my frame, too electrifying, feelings ductile,
Making gawping heads not able to eyes hold back.
What a Rose Flower, oh Babe:
Bright like early morning sun of Xmas,
Goggling eyes round whole streets turning in ogle –
And whole system holding spellbound, as in phantasmagoria.
But can I be your bee? my sweet sixteen!
To your sweet red nipplenectars suck? like a suckling.
A deep chill of early harmattan morning,
Stupefying sensations sending down signals into phallic organs!
Succulent “things” like rightly ripe pawpaw at my backyard:
Nwanyi oma, my sweet Asaba Queen: delicious Xmas stew,
I sing your conspicuous beauty, your deserving love: for am no philistine:
What a feeling too conquering to contend, aphrodisiac! –
A philter too difficult to contain, down my vein, my marrow!
Sweetie, I adore your fine phizog amatory. Wow.
A wonderful mien irresistible, cloud nine delirium tremens
Down my pliant spine killing ardour sent. Figure -8
What a towering pulchritude, a pleasant statistics!
Categories:
stupefying, girlfriend-boyfriend, sweet, beauty, fire,
Form:
Romanticism
The beast has been unleashed
no longer willing to be supressed
and hidden in gloomy chambers
no longer willing to hold onto the anger
which has been a long suffering burden
Constantly beholding fake smiles
on the visage of pretenders, lovers of illusion
master-creaters of volcanic-like pressures
seeking to behold a stupefying explosion
People and things testing how far they can take me
cause me to wonder they're watching and plotting
to see if they can break me..
Well, now the beast is hungry
stalking his prey
ready to pounce on whatever's in his way
So go ahead, waltz your presence by my lair
I'll show you about playing fair
Just remember you asked for this!
It was never my intention to unleash this beast
but now it's time for him to feast!
And, when he is done there won't be much left
just a whirlwing of destruction
hanging on his last breath..
Categories:
stupefying, imaginationme,
Form:
Unimaginable beauty:
I found myself walking alone
far removed from humanity
in a large meadow overgrown
with kaleidoscopic poppies:
oranges, blues, crimsons and yellows
each indiscriminately
commingled in this meadow
like an incongruous painting;
yet, in my eyes, a masterpiece:
A polychromatic blending
of hues quivering in the breeze
as I stood amidst the allure
of their stupefying grandeur.
Categories:
stupefying, nature,
Form:
Verse
Out of a neon jungle the big cats prowl
the wind in the willows unrecovered,
for when the cats and wind begin to howl
I am stoned and the boys truly mothered!
So I rip in and bowl an inswinger
and rap ‘em on the pads…”howzat?” I shout,
pivoting to see a pointing finger,
but the bastard umpire says “Not Out!”.
Behold the shot, the call of “no, yes, no”…
a sledge and slog on the concrete wickets
and puffs of stupefying herb billow
the post-match bar in the oak tree pickets.
For a play and a prey the big cats reign
when the Leopards are loose in The Domain.
Written: November 1992
Pic above is of Auckland Domain.
*The Leopards are a cricket team.
*Cricket bats are made from willow trees.
*Mothered is slang for extremely drunk.
*Inswinger is a type of bowling delivery.
*If a bowler appeals to an umpire for a
dismissal and he agrees the batsman is
out he points and raises his finger.
*Sledge is a cutting insulting remark.
Categories:
stupefying, friend, games, sports,
Form:
Sonnet
Spring
spectacular, resplendent
breathtaking, surprising, striking
daffodils, crocuses, hydrangeas, daisies
sweltering, stupefying, relaxing
magnificent, sensational
Summer
Categories:
stupefying, 10th grade, 9th grade,
Form:
Diamante
Epilogue, Translation of Paul Verlaine’s poem : Epilogue
By way of a Farewell to « personal » poetry. Paul Verlaine, March 1895
(Towards the end of his rather short and tumultuous life, Verlaine in this poem – after composing somewhat in the manner of his times by distilling his own expériences in rhymed and fixed stanzaic forms - makes us believe wishes to put an end to his « personal » compositions. He died of pulmonary congestion on January 8, 1896.
T. Wignesan)
So, therefore, Farewell Dear me-Myself
That which decent people have held to blame.
The poor people ! Who put much love to flame
Remain much flattered (Lady, as when she loves herself !)
Farewell, Dear Me, joy and chagrin
Of which, it seems, I spoke of far too much
That no one wants more of : I have done with such.
From now on , I must my Self drown.
In the heart of hearts – how might one holler ?
Of Impersonal Art, and to take a dignified stand
That I assume a cold-blooded stance,
To celebrate you ! O ! Walhalla !
For, Buddha, to celebrate your rites
And your customs in all countries !
And as for those of my country, O ! Ssh !
Talk of your drawbacks and your merits.
And in breath-stopping plays
Amidst novels put together synthetic
Or, well, in the manner analytic,
Stretch myself out in stupefying tropes !
Farewell, Dear Me-Myself, out of work
I feel the numbness of the tomb already
Casting sneaky glances at us through beauty
On towards a project for unique-headed Art
Farewell ! Heart ! No need for more fare-thee-wells :
This’s a little like mud somewhat
Piled up on one’s austere Head – and over Art –
What with these « unresolved farewells ».
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
Categories:
stupefying, poetry,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
Please Read Part I before reading this! Thank you! :)
Days and nights merged
Into a stupefying timelessness
How long had it been
Since she had burned his flesh
With her body
Since she had burned his heart
With her escape
He caressed the white feather
Pulled it across his lips
Smelling the scent of her
That lingered
Cursing himself for being a fool
For taking the chance
For believing
He angrily brushed
At the lone tear
That escaped from his eye
A mournful pilgrim
Searching for redemption
Across expanse of his face
At that very moment…
The silence was broken
By the faint sound
Of fluttering wings
That grew louder
There at the door
Of his gilded cage
He didn’t trust himself to turn around
But he trembled...
He trembled when he heard the sound
Of the closing of the door
And the turning of the key in the lock
Still he did not turn around
Her scent spoke to him
Of her ever nearing closeness
Till it enveloped him
And her warm breath
caressed the back of his neck
And then…before he could turn around
His still rigid form was enfolded
In the fluttering of her wings
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Categories:
stupefying, imagination, love, pain, woman,
Form:
Free verse