Best Swank Poems
Written: December 16, 2023
_____________________________________
I sneak glance at veiled blue.
as swank stars start to shine,
Sleeping, I sensed your love.
as warmth weaves through the heart,
Feeling the night above
I sneak glance at veiled blue.
through days that caught the moon,
with the whim that soon grasps
those who were backing me,
lasting the same long clasp
I sneak glance at veiled blue.
then climb the heights of sky.
zest the bright stars that shine.
Through the twilight impulse.
glimpse that my soul is thine.
I sneak glance at veiled blue.
Oh, divine timeless throne.
Your love has embraced us.
through my path shone a blaze.
freed and borne with life fuss.
Categories:
swank, analogy, appreciation, beauty, blue,
Form:
Monchielle Stanza
For BigFoot I searched everywhere.
In all the Northwest, he’s not there!
Then I thought I might know
where a BigFoot might go . . .
so I went where the barbers cut hair!
To fit in and be like the rest
of us humans, he’d look his best.
so I went to each shop
where I thought he might stop
to have hair removed from his chest.
To Hollywood soon I was led.
I’d heard of a man with a head
like a wolf’s, full of hair,
making everyone stare.
What I found was Hugh Jackman instead!
Then a man I could not see too well
crossed my path at a fancy hotel.
When I got a good look,
that was all that it took!
It was furry but small, Steve Carell!
The last guy I saw in that land
of Hollywood stars acted grand.
That guy, very hairy
made Big Foot less scary.
He went by the name Russell Brand.
From Hasselhoff to Bradley Cooper,
some hairy guys are super duper!
I kept at my quest
when to the southwest
I moved, for I’m always a trooper.
I searched high and low, five years more,
but by then, I had grown very poor.
I had always liked shoes,
so thought I would choose
a job in a classy shoe store.
Like Carrie in “Sex in the City,”
I loved my work, and I looked pretty
with swank heels on my feet,
yet I felt incomplete
There was no Mr. Big! Such a pity!
But while working one day without care.
I looked up Can you guess who was there?
This odd creature so tall
made Shaquille look too small.
And he hardly could hide all his hair!
No fresh smelling flower was he,
but kindly I sensed him to be.
As I stooped down to put
my hand on that Big Foot,
I knew fate had led him to me!
Written by Andrea Dietrich
Categories:
swank, funny love,
Form:
Limerick
I was an experienced family therapist, helping families maintain functionality,
As wandering, starlit seasons maintain all nature, being rooted in practicality.
I loved preserving healthy relationships, that foundation of healthy societies;
And kept up a fruitful dialogue between the families, which relieved anxieties.
I, myself, had come from a happy home, never causing huge worries or fears,
For dear ones that I loved, never seemed to be leaving, as silvery cloud tears.
Friends dropped by like colorful fall, never failing to fetch the fondest smiles,
In the midst of a watchful, apricot noon, when rouge butterflies were in exile.
Family flew past fluffy clouds each fall, when autumn was pretty and frumpy,
Like field blossoms of windswept fragrance, elegantly disheveled and grumpy.
I lived in the house of sweet memories, and smiling faces on rose hued walls,
As rouge sun swims in roses nightly, prior to descending the precipitous falls.
Street performers were small, singing sparrows, on my swank avenue of sun;
Like a solo turns into a chorus, creating a prettier song-more elegantly done!
Nearsighted neighbors came to see me nights, and gaze at nacre pearl moon,
On the peach, peony porch of my placidness, in colors of the faded afternoon.
All were seized in summer's saffron grip, creating orange juice mist sunsets,
Like walking away, when it is best, and yet brave enough to have no regrets.
Flowers thrilled hot, apricot hours, and birdsong excited long, obsidian nights,
Cats slept on porches of ruby pansies, their short, sweet lives full of delights.
Then persistent tragedy finally struck me, when I lost a dear family member;
And while I suffered long and cried, I was comforted by smiles I remembered!
I found great solace in my work, for helping others paves the way for smiles,
Like keeping glad eyes on the summer garden, to delve its newest color files.
I found a love and was eventually married, like first tango of sun and planets;
And we and our children continue family traditions, like lofty birdsong habits.
Today, my grief is much diminished, like storm clouds fading into saffron sun,
For minds full of memories, help loving hearts heal, like rosy day just begun.
Categories:
swank, family, fantasy, grief, love,
Form:
Couplet
Somebody wrote and once told me
Oh gal, you are really up yourself
That really hurt my feelings,
Then I though, oh what the hell!
I’m really not the one to sit in a chair
And nobody know that I’m there
I dress up swank and life I thank
For the years that are still there
I’ll sing for free and I’ll dance with thee
Not a Wall flower will I be
I‘ll show the kids at twenty
That there‘s still life in me a plenty
And when I walk into a room
I’ll wear my most haunting perfume
And you will know that I am there
And with friends all life I’ll share
Now the guys may not stop and stare
Still there are some do I declare
Yes I am really up myself]
But I sure ain’t on the shelf!
Categories:
swank, introspection, life, life,
Form:
Rhyme
The wife ‘n I were taken out
by me’ bosses on a Christmas ‘do’,
to a restaurant I can’t afford,
uptown in some swank avenue,
where a waiter dressed up to kill,
in a black formal suit with a tie,
pulled out the chair for me bottom,
and placed a napkin over me fly.
A ‘jar’ o’ wine chilled on our table
to drink to enlighten’ the mood,
and the waiter was fussin’ about,
by offerin’ strange lookin’ food
on a tray with one hand behind him,
then he handed us all a menu,
but everythin’ I tried to read,
was in language I never knew.
So one of the bosses tried helpin’,
“What would you like to choose?”
And it’s better to be safe than sorry,
I said, “I’ll have the same as youse.”
But then with a want for the asking,
I turned to the waiter and said,
“What in the heck have I ordered?
And tell me in ‘stralian instead”.
The waiter gave a little bow,
as I unexpectedly clung,
“Sir - your order is chosen wisely,
a medium rare bullocks tongue”.
It took a few moments to hit me,
then it did with a terrible clout,
“Bullocks tongue! Raw bullocks tongue!
Don’t bother bringing that out.”
“I’m gunna be changin’ me order.
I ain’t eatin’ the same as that mob,
‘cause I just haven’t the stomach,
for eatin’ somethin’ out of a cows gob.
So mate yer’ write down this order,
It’ll cook in a minute or two.
… fancy eatin’ somethin’ from a cow’s gob -
a boiled egg mate will have to do”.
Categories:
swank, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
A heritage resplendent in culture and crafts
Where monuments rub shoulders with swank malls
Enticing blend of old and new
Lucknow my town always enthralls
Values well enshrined so deep within
Greets with a warmth endearing
A city with a global vision
Boasts of a legacy alluring
An array of exquisite creations
Their splendour holds us spell bound
Dreams woven into yards of fabric
A magnificence that does astound
Succulent kebabs relished by all
Medley of age old secret recipes
Sizzling in congested lanes
Take pride of place in grand feasts
Tourists find it hard to part
Leave behind their piece of heart;
Taste and grace, or class , cuisine
City of Nawabs reigns supreme.
Nov 2, 2016
Contest My kind of town
Footnote
Lucknow is the capital of Uttar Pradesh , a north Indian state, home of the erstwhile nawabs of the mughal empire well known for their sophisticated taste. Hand crafting or chikankari of world fame is a hand embroidery renowned for its finesse.Lucknow takes pride in its rich cuisine especially kebabs, made of the finest lamb mince preferred for its soft texture
Categories:
swank, history, home,
Form:
Rhyme
Bottle of tears is my first version of this poetic legacy series
Skeleton of tears is which the venerated versatility carries.
This might be called as a sequel of alacrity or prolongation
But best before this is a celluloid and my heart and art collaboration.
In this poem “I or me” signify tears
Tears personify her expressions and emotions
Read this and know the life legacy of tears with concentration
And finally your fur, fleece and fuzz stand erect in attention.
Tears personify, I am compacted in stars
I am compressed between hurdles and wars
I am combusted on scorches
I am confided from Ishtar torches.
Tears epitomize, eternal bone of mine is an ominous emotion.
The Sagaras; Sarpada, Satluj shaded a challenge to my dire destination.
That one eve ever the fever of cleavers cannot catch up with me.
And the damp humidity of drought could not cope up with me.
Tears embody, I float on the branches of poignant army
I flood around the builds of happiness
I reach the borders of hell-heeled layers
And I roof down the clouds to my feet and make them rain prayers
Tears swank ,When my real steel sizzled atoms of blood,
Come together to conjure a flood.
The heated ink of emotions ignites to molt the black clouds
And let me visualize in which eve shall it swounds.
Tears exemplify, my liberty leads the immense flame in the hands of torch bearer
My prodigy evokes the waves hard under visions of volcanoes
The lust of my silvered glory was inspired from the shiny heavenly threads of feudal dart.
And the symptom of my introduction will be the rise of a burning heart.
God of hostility typify: Convinced that the fever of lava can't cope up with me
And the humidity of drought can"t hope up the level with me
In such a water working poem this is the conclusion
That even the pacific evaporate when my eternal strength feel thirsty after a tear solidification.
And now the spirits incarnate, my iron lungs had oxidized with the bitter-sour chilled water
after reading it and they crackled their internal matter into ignitious crater.
And now I will come to compete with and complete the legacy BOT(Bottle of Tears)
In the new form and with new fire firmed eyes to show you the third part “Kingdom for Disarmament of Tears ”.
4/14/2016
Categories:
swank, creation, cry, emotions, pain,
Form:
Elegy
Milton Brown
1822 – 1917
I knew C. W. Harvey.
Knew him and liked him.
I lived on the first floor of his Greenleaf Hotel
By Bailey Street.
Lived and thrived on the flowered verandah.
Sipped lemonade and gummed soft bread
In the swank dining room.
Talked and listened into the long afternoons
With the fine folks from Illinois and Iowa.
Most of the time,
I rocked and thought back,
And I remembered fondly
The old times in the trackless wilderness,
Seeking a permanent woman and a permanent home.
I found both with a pair of leather boots, a spade and a torn Bible.
Ye Kings and Princes of the Earth!
And to all the rich and the powerful:
“What doth it profit a man
To gain the whole world
And lose his own soul?”
We are truly nothing.
As nothing as the still wind.
As worthless as the dirt
That presently covers my still bones.
Yes, I knew C.W. Harvey.
Knew him and liked him.
He was the richest man in town when I arrived here.
And yet,
He taught me humility and dignity.
Lessons learned with a kind word
And a daily tip of his derby hat.
And after my passing into the eternal night,
He honored me with a kind eulogy at my burial
Here in Artilissa’s flower yard.
My forever resting place
Under these countless stars!
Categories:
swank, death, life,
Form:
Epitaph
Help with the struggles, man's faced with, in life on earth
As man learns life knowledge, instead of grasping worth
A passion to hold all that's seen, since his moment of birth
Is innate desire or thoughts, meant for direction not for girth
I find it ironic when man is compared to fish seen in a tank
To show greed's value, it's the larger fish that have the swank
Where man sees their struggle, in the fight for food and life
He fails to see expectation, the hope of surviving all the strife
Hope for a world at peace, not planning for war to unfold
Our future worth can't be seen in a tank, for it is uncontrolled
The expectancy in living, isn't calculated in the coins of man
You find it, seeing the children playing, riding in your minivan
Expectations may change, in your life's journey, here on earth
lost at times within depression, as sad feelings seek to unearth
Is an expectation of this verse to change minds or to convert
I only task all readers to think, expand this thought and reassert
Conversations, will help all reason, with trauma that's found in life
Giving men hope and an expectation, to survive this world of strife
Categories:
swank, inspirational, life, world, fish,
Form:
Couplet
My friend, the friendly robot,
Does everything I could ever want.
Cooking exactly how I like my food,
Like it’s from a swank restaurant.
She cleans, she fixes, and she creates
And then she irons all of my clothes.
She even massages sore muscles for me,
And she even blows.
My beautiful gorgeous robot is learning
How to live with her own instinct.
Soon I feel I won’t be needed at all,
Soon I’ll become extinct.
Categories:
swank, humor, technology,
Form:
Quatrain
The Indians and the Pilgrims.
We children do thank.
They've left us with more
than turkey and swank.
They taught us to share
from the Big to the small.
They remind us accept
that there's difference in all.
They taught us to sit
next to strangers we meet.
They taught us our history
depends who we greet.
They've given us fashion.
Put feathers in caps.
We've learned to make buckles
and pants held with straps.
They've surprised us with syrup
they tapped from our trees.
Then added to recipes
of bread just to please.
They've shown us the way
from the fields to the streams.
Made settlements neighbors:
Lands, honeys and creams.
They lived out their life
making each man they meet
look richer by far
just by going up to greet.
Remember to thank them
and ask them for more
because they taught us what giving
and sharing is for...
Categories:
swank, appreciation, best friend, character,
Form:
Quatrain
My lover, she melts me, like a frog on a lily,
Watching the days pass hurriedly by.
I lay there, hands cradling my head just gazing,
Peering up through the clouds in the sky.
My lover, she walks beside me, with pride, with swank,
Announcing a love that’s purely in fashion.
Walking the streets, satisfied with each stride,
Graciously holding ourselves with our passion.
My lover, he’s private, hidden away from the lily,
No laying, no watching up through the blue.
No being seen down town, holding hands, being close,
Our desire’s a conventional taboo.
My lovers, they hold me when I wish, when I long,
When my body secretly wants hands which raise.
I wish this town would invite and accept,
Instead of sinning our yearn, from words learnt on Sundays.
Categories:
swank, community, social,
Form:
Quatrain
JIM
Gigging for free, for fun, our choice -
Fur coat, waistcoat, beads:
He sang of Prince Charlie, glens, hero’s deeds.
Scruffy blue jeans, timbre in his voice.
Fridays at the folkmusic club, jamming.
His place one night funniest thing ever heard -
His and his wife’s Glaswegian accent -
But we sang and played till drink was spent
And I couldn’t understand a word.
I liked his singing, they liked my playing.
Met him in Bishopsgate, London one day, said hi -
Was amazed - he was something in a merchant bank,
With camel-hair topcoat and cigar in hand, real swank,
With other banker types - Hong Kong and Shanghai.
Boy, that Jim could sing.
Categories:
swank, people
Form:
Quintain (English)
The Middle Years
She'd been wooed by dukes and diplomats
From Nome to Nagasaki,
Kept by mobsters, bishops, bureaucrats,
And a movie mogul's lackey.
She'd been plied with jewels, a fancy car,
Designer gowns and furs
By lots and lots of husbands,
Not one of whom was hers.
For fifteen years she lived among the swank,
But at thirty she had nothing in the bank.
She pawned her diamonds, sold her gowns and her furs,
The car was repossessed 'cause just the payments were hers,
Got her picture in the tabloids with some slanders and slurs,
Villonia Beebe was no one's baby anymore.
She took to pandering and cruising in malls.
A john, a judge, would like to help her, but he hadn't the balls.
She learned it's hard to be a call girl when nobody calls,
Villonia Beebe was no one's baby anymore.
Two more years went by in bars and walking the streets.
She'd like to meet a handsome guy who's loaded and sweet,
So she could settle down and turn that trick into a treat,
And then she'd be somebody's baby once more.
At thirty-two she thought she should get out of "the life",
Go back home to Arkansas and be someone's wife.
She'd soon get back an accent you could cut with a knife
And become a real hillbilly once more.
The Toad Suck men were simple and quite easy to please,
Though the way they buzzed around her made their wives ill at ease.
Still, she made a decent living on her back and her knees,
Villonia Beebe'd come full circle for sure.
Then one night she met Homer, at a barn dance, of course,
A cute and awkward guy who said his nickname was "Horse".
One ride and she's not had one single day of remorse,
ViIllonia Beebe was someone's baby once more.
She sometimes contemplates her life,
When she takes the time to bother,
From beauty queen to trampoline,
From doll to moll to mother.
She doesn't miss the jewels or car at all,
And fur just makes her itch,
But if truth be told, a part of her
Sort of misses being rich.
But Villonia is content now with her lot,
Especially when her "Horse" is hot to trot.
Categories:
swank, humor,
Form:
Ballad
I’m a familiar bird with little shape,
Cute and brown with a lot of pep
There is nothing about me to swank
I’m simple just how you think
Neither have graceful plumes,
Nor blessed with mellifluous booms
But I’m the most sociable one
A symbol of joy and protection
I’m an icon of hard work
And believe in team work
May be insignificant by stature,
Withstand every climate nature
Bathe in sand and water alike,
Sing in groups is what I like
Despite thrown into Red Book alerts,
I serve my best to save you from pests.
I am your little sparrow.
I am a Bird - Personification Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin
Date: 27/07/2020
placed : 3rd.
Categories:
swank, bird,
Form:
Personification