Best Tasseled Poems
When dreamtime leads me to a mystic land
I saunter quietly ... climbing a hill,
For the kingdom of fairies and elves reigns
With gossamer wings and jewels in their hair.
A sapphire castle laps with ambient winds
Robed in diamante from godly hands.
Sweet mist of air and silver voices echo
Through quivering rock pools of hawthorns green.
This lofty place thrills bright imaginings
Upon glittered sands like tiers of limestone,
Hard marbles and finely-polished pebbles
Lie dotted through rainbow of stardust ,untold.
Tasseled wands bestow spells on the courtyard
Beguiling my eye with pixie- waltz steps
Until, at the height of enchanted awe
Fairy Queen lends magic, then fades in dreams!
Second Chance # 3 Contest of Broken Wings
Posted 4/21/2016
Judging Finalized 4/27/2016
Categories:
tasseled, fairy, magic, places,
Form:
Light Verse
The dawn of anticipated darkness,
Pierces these gilded walls.
The smoulder of sinister heat arising-
An entombment of dreams.
Let us raise our chalices of stars
To toast these woodland creatures emerging.
From beyond the drapes of tasseled velvet,
Through the seeps by light of moon.
Find the phantoms that dwell in lit shadows;
They stray to the rhythm of unwhispered truths.
Is this magic that lifts these masks afloat?
Oh, look around! There’s one more behind you!
I behold you, silken facade,
By glimpses across the candelabra.
Do you feel the coming
Of our night’s story awaiting a beginning.
Take care to not unmask these veils
For no revelations should come alight.
As our hands embrace and we glide,
Feigning ignorance in only this night.
Categories:
tasseled, appreciation, beautiful, dance, dream,
Form:
Free verse
(It was 1860 when the English poet Robert Browning
stumbled upon an interesting artefact as he walked
through the city of Florence. It was a file of documents
from an old Italian criminal trial, and he would turn
this material into his masterpiece, "The Ring and the
Book".)
The Old Square Yellow Book
It was the kind of day they call a "stallion"
in Florence, with white sun, surpassing strong.
And it was noon. (In June, to be precise.)
The Englishman came strolling aimlessly
(or was it?) through Piazza San Lorenzo.
And, just as now, a market crammed the square
and foamed around the statue's marble plinth.
Here, plaster busts, there, flaking picture-frames,
and Garibaldi portraits (way back then,
in eighteen-sixty, they were giving birth:
Italian nationhood was in the air).
The tall "inglese", drawn towards the stall
which offered prints and books, picked something up.
He shouted "shop", and put one lira down.
The book was his. He managed to ignore
the girls, a-squabbling over tasseled shawls,
those burly porters, drenching head and neck
in Giovanni's fountain, braying mules,
cacophony and chaos all around,
to read his book. His blood knew, right away.
At last, he'd found the raw material
from which he'd quarry one great masterpiece.
One foot propped on the railing, near the step
which leads down to the fountain by the church,
he read, engrossed. Then, with a sudden laugh,
he threw it in the air, and caught it, safe.
What was it? Well, a book - but more than that.
It was the record of some long-dead trial,
some murder case of many years before,
with statements, pleadings, longhand notes. In this
authentic tangle lay a human tale
of fierce emotion, rich psychology,
if he could tease it out. So off he set,
re-reading as he walked, feeling his way,
along the narrow Giglio, then the broad
Panzani. Via Tornabuoni next,
so long and straight, down to the river.
He passed the Strozzi Palace, crossed the bridge
they call the Trinita. When he reached home,
the cool Felice, there was not a doubt.
His whole life's labour lay there, in his hands.
Categories:
tasseled,
Form:
Blank verse
The corn is sweeping low;
her tasseled head is bent,
as dying souls lament
about the waning glow.
This life too quickly fades,
thin mists that pale the glade.
In furrows dark and dry,
the kernels, hard, that fall
beneath the autumn squall,
now lie alone. Awry
the seed the wind propelled
to propagate the veld.
So life reflects the corn
that dies to bloom reborn.
Copyright, August 16, 2015
Faye Lanham Gibson
Categories:
tasseled, life,
Form:
Sonnet
a dancing queen called nette onclaud
rocked hip hop steps in tasseled shroud
she leapt in thin air
wind blew her false hair...
shaved head bowed to a cheering crowd
*yayy! *
©
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CONTEST: PD’s Slick Limerick
Categories:
tasseled, funny, people,
Form:
Limerick
Zephyr,
echo of the eastern wind,
gentle and balmy is thy caress,
your kiss leaves the hardened heart due west;
breath of hope for steely-days,
winds of change whisper fortune,
do they raise the spirits of righteous device,
and speculate to riddance,
of tempests to come,
flee me forever ---
in thy pleasant climes
Spirit of the western wind sings,
thy floral in flowered Spring,
whistle in the wombs of weeping willow hangs,
the grated ground from stretching hands
(courtship of the tasseled frays)
so human is thy playful ways,
and child-like thy fickle display
(though so earnest is thy whistled word) ---
I leave thee my levity, and forget thee not,
keepsake to keepsake; when the hour is late
and the icy-ridges of doom do renounce and boom;
in the breath of my end days
sing in my ears once more
(the coda of drummer calls)
and play thy earnest tune,
in the vestige halls of evermore
(I do wait)
Categories:
tasseled, death, faith, future, life,
Form:
Classicism
tasseled old oak trees
a living aviary....
spring music surrounds
Categories:
tasseled, nature, seasons,
Form:
Haiku
Value
All
Learning
Education
Denies
Ignorance
Construct
Theories
Organize
Read
Insist
Appreciate
Notice
She is a brown eyed girl with soft brown hair
The gown covers her pregnant belly
The tasseled cap is her crown
Nothing can down her determination
Motivation comes from nightmares
Motivation comes from dreams
As she speaks, tears stream
She recalls her defiance, disobedience, deadly deeds
She is overdue but happy to be on that stage
Her rage is different now
He doesn't acknowledge their coming baby
or his fatherhood
He called her nasty names in the neighborhood
Members of his gang brought her pictures of him
at the park with his hands all over another
She was struggling to become a mother
Later the law would send him to jail
for statutory rape of his little sister's friend
The offenses mounted and she
kept going to the Word
On her knees she pleaded
The situation was insane
How would she maintain?
She studied in the bathroom, on breaks
at work, on the bus, late at night, early morn
What could she accomplish? She had to mourn
the death of that other life
and be baptized into the new
Now she knew what to do
On her knees she pleaded
for a place for her and the
baby to stay
A home for unwed girls made
a way
She read, wrote, calculated, devised
Her books became worn as did her eyes
"God help me not to despise"
"Make the bitter better"
She sang verb conjugations
As she washed dishes
Her feet hurt and her back cried
If she failed it would not be
because she had not tried
When she was in the streets
She had partied hard
Now to pass this test
She would do her best
?Y porque no?
Her belly was so big
She sat sideways at the desk
There was a time when she
drank, doped and was rude
Now she was humble, determined
And the reward was now
Wow as they cheered her speech
"It all begins with me
First I must see
I tell you change and successes are
Always in your reach”
Value
All
Learning
Education
Denies
Ignorance
Construct
Theories
Organize
Read
Insist
Appreciate
Notice
Categories:
tasseled, education, faith, life,
Form:
Acrostic
There was a camel that trots a lot,
He trotted his way from Camelot;
With tasseled fringe and jeweled saddle,
He fiorded rivers with a golden paddle.
Up the dunes and across the sands,
He traversed all the way to Arab lands;
Where there is no water to pump,
So he carries it in his camel’s hump.
On the way from Camelot,
The rider found that he forgot
All the jewels and precious things,
Borrowed with haste from Hottentot kings;
So he turned his camel around,
For what was lost had not been found;
Then he steered his beast toward the east,
Where men of China drink and feast.
The man who came from Camelot,
Sat on his camel and smoked some pot;
He puffed with need on the evil weed,
Till his lungs were filled with empty greed.
He spent his days looking glazed,
And what he smoked caused some delays.
But the man on the camel that liked to trot,
His name of fame was Sir Lancelot.
Now Sir Lancelot was very hot,
And he never found a shady spot;
But he had a drink from the camel’s hump,
By using his hand to pump the lump;
And all the while the camel was panting,
While Sir Lancelot was loudly ranting;
And the words he spoke were poppycock,
All the way back to Camelot.
Categories:
tasseled, adventuredrink,
Form:
Ballade
So strong a stem, such well-formed flesh
your leafy limbs (though aged) still fresh
among the garden damsels posed
as if you're worthy of the rose!
Your airy blossoms speak with ease
but reek of lustful potpourri;
a dogged, macho dander poured,
the filthy scent that beguiles whores!
Sometimes your tasseled fingertips
might stimulate a young rosehip
a helpless bud in field of weeds
to pollinate among the reeds!
But wisdom tends to bare the thorns
of self-respect and pride reborn!
Perhaps a pair of numerous lips
might fell a lass with Shakespeare's scripts
but commonality gets old
just like the woody of a lad too bold!
But here, you're sordid lies won't sell
your hapless whispers known too well.
I've choked on bitter-weed champagne
no aphrodisiac remains.
A ragweed blister on the tongue
from dalliance when I was young.
Your flower mouth can't steal my breath
because your words have got no depth
you ragged my spirit, gagged my soul
but I am unaffected anymore!
Categories:
tasseled, imagination,
Form:
Rhyme
Tasseled blonde curls blown by the breeze
Playing with the blonde puppy geez
Total look on her face of tease
Delightful child whom none will displease
Sweet puppy with fair fur that does please
Grand twosome joyful playful ease
God's design is wonderful for these
Child's games, puppies' antics appease
Written: June 12, 2016
Blonde is a feminine form of blond and blond is masculine..It can be used in
a not nice way but this is strictly meaning a female with blonde hair..
Inspired by the contest Monorhyme sponsored by Laura Loo
Categories:
tasseled, childhood,
Form:
Monorhyme
Tomorrow came a day too late
Held fast beneath a Tyrant's hand
Who lied in Corporate "Double Speak"
With blooded swords and lightening bolts
In languages forgotten
Long before the thunder died
And mushroom clouds filled up the sky.
Look down to Middle Mountain Keep;
The inner city walls are breached beyond repair
The sounds once heard were always those of commerce
The energy of congress
The joy of profits golden and secure...
But nothing grows here anymore;
Nothing lives here anymore.
Behold a fortressed, fallen dream
Raining greed from bone bleached hands
From barren fields of dying farms
And clouds of death from poisoned lands...
Rejected psalms denied by despots and jesters
Wielding Power like a Scythe...
But taxes on their glory gather manifest
One hundred thousand fold or so last count;
And the Middle bears the weight alone
The weight of fraud...the filth of doubt.
Bound up, no doubt in tasseled ribbon braids of conquest
Surrounded by Ammendments and inalienable rights
Tossed like garbage in their wake...straight in our face.
Reminiscent of Ozmandius - royalty's forgotten names...
Musty, shallow birthright claims of grasping need
Of this part of the world -- or that part of the world;
Might is right and all must march
To whatever tunes they care to play....
And the Middle sings their songs alone.
Too big to fail...too big to go..
A cancer dressed in silk and lace
Worship Corporate blessing on the few
A new religion risen bright and new.
So, pay your blue blood Rites of Passage
Flightless birds, reminiscent of the DoDo,
And grab yesterday's last offered chance...
While you blindly walk on traceless feet
Straight into Sorrow's Lance...
And the Middle bleeds alone.....
Categories:
tasseled, political, cancer,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
3rd march 2012,malvan.
Waves diffuse themselves on sandy shores repeat,
Like fresh feelings in young lover’s kiss, their pristine emotions upbeat.
Youthful hearts pant and gasp, volcanic emotions erupt,
Like Twilight rays caress blue waters and foam splits abrupt.
As night she festoons her darkness a more,
Temptation flares within youthful flesh like burning flames galore.
White virgin sands dormant they spread and lay waiting,
Like warm satins spreads for nocturnal love making.
Dim lit fishing boats tied to their anchors they beacon flash and float,
Akin fresh youthful body lying in wait for the mate ,it’s voluptuousness to note .
Alone here in serene surroundings, feel the caress of the orange light of setting sun,
Tingle in my heart and my emotions wild they have begun to run……..
Rising moon reflects in the shimmering waters all blue,
Like the joys from my heart emerge on to the expressions on my face without ado.
Elegance radiates from the skies as the stars jauntily they dance
Her tasseled hair, and the sweet smell of love’s nectar drive me into a trance.
Diaphanous sea breeze carries supple love’s words unspoken,
Blackened progdious velvet skies nestles my copious passions that are still unbroken.
By: Sashi.Prabhu (zeauoxian)
Categories:
tasseled, love, nature, passion, heart,
Form:
Rhyme
He could see her highly strung face
Behind the cloaked veil
A face taught to behold beautiful turbulent.
He could feel the shiver in her timid heart
And the fearful spasm
Running down her spine.
He held her hand and whorled the bangles
While hundred of foes
Opposing two hearts
Kept their eyes glued in line.
He stained her red;
By making that vermilion spread.
He jeweled her up with holy beads
And consecrated her with the garnet ink.
She devoted herself to him
When he adorned her nape
With the sacred tinsel tasseled thread.
He could see the love in her eyes for him
And with that sense of relief,
She embraced him tight
And said in a moist tone
As he kissed her lachrymose eyes,
'Our love will always bring the holy grail back.'
Categories:
tasseled, love, marriage, sad love,
Form:
Free verse
In the rear view is a big slab rider in
tiger prints on the open road.
Off the pike and down the route, I
see my breath she sees the inside of
a brain bucket lid.
Crispy corn snakes slither between those
bubble gum wheels, I see my breath she
parts the fog with hot drag pipes.
Her gore-tex grips those tasseled ape hangers, in
armor head to toe.
The silence breaks into four-banger parade,
I see my breath she lets off the
binder and flogs up the dawn.
Categories:
tasseled, people, visionary
Form:
Free verse