Best Teals Poems
Panagiota and The Autopsy
An autopsy, I found, educational to the max!
Those sacred, holy,human body parts, being
removed part by part.
Weighed on a scale, as if in a large supermart?
Really, truly, after all our human snickering and
politicking?
Is this who we are, simply meat on a cold slab?
And tell me, please, who is going to pay the tab?
Where will my Muse be when I lie naked on a table?
I can't scream "help" as the knife slices me from
neck to navel.
No trophies in this inglorious space and no POTD either.
No, poet friends, not in this inglorious stable.
There is no talk here of skin color nor of crucial racial matters.
For on that table,insides of all humans are of the same color,
Simply at peace,lying in tatters, I shout, all all lives matter!!
It's surprising, I withstood all this, being a young student
nurse and all.
It was September in Evanston, at Saint Francis Hopital
I shall never forget, that colorful, most memorable fall.
I never became a nurse,instead, fell deeply in love, truly,
a far more romantic deal!
We moved to San Francisco, where hills, deep love and
with poetry, my heart forever, he did eternally steal!
And the Pacific Ocean transforming from shades of deep
blues to the most enchanting teals!
July 5, 2023
Mediums of Winter parse
translucent runes on the tines
of sloping firs basking like mallards
in March's brusk sunshine.
Arctic oracles echo on the lake's hard sapphire
with pearl crests punctuating
Spring's arrival while cat tails exclaim
nascent umber banks. As teals float
in a tarot of amulets tanagers preen,
imbuing remnant frost with scarlet omens.
Written: May 15, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Crystol Woods
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I’m neither harmonious nor a hidden hymn
Who said I'm wedded to whimsy, lilac looks?
to all those who gifted me
countless worries through the years.
Simply silhouettes in my rear—view mirror.
I sail past rhyming reefs,
of my quest faintly reflecting
Why should I let them define me anymore?
I make mistakes; so what?
my heart is full of love and ambrosian words—
it shines with rhapsody.
my hands can heal amidst the severest pain.
my mind envision cures
for sparkling vanilla—algae tears.
Tidal teals whisper tales that truly transform.
Despite doubts in glittering, grape-colored gales,
I'll face them as the north star kisses the sea.
I will rise and face them head on,
while history hisses at my heels.
I'll sustain my anxieties for what they are — illusions
with a clairvoyant cape and rivulets unraveled
what matters is now
what matters is my striving
what matters is the rise
toward rebellious rainbows
and what I require,
as a necklace of seashells
worn and stained with sepia
reacclimating after the climatic gavel falls
after sunrise and sunset and flamingoes
after wood, Rembrandts and aluminum
after prodigy, prodigal and guitar strings
and chatter. after all what matters
is chroma-splash, illumination and surrender
a soundless cacophony of instruments
and muses deliciously dancing
dripping from a litany of brushes
Y O R
e r e
l a d
l n s
o g
w e
sea blues, teals, whales
swoosh…swoosh
the presence of fame
God is a fave…
time’s talent from only one of his fingers
i figure, in heaven’s palette -
won’t we forever be astonished
7/10/2022
Brian Strand’s Premiere Contest
Oh midnight of spring; a lustrous parade,
In azure twirls enticing moonglow's array
The bolder blues, the lighter teals that spark;
While violets hum their notes of rhapsody.
Dusk arrives with turquoise rays soon to vanish
Mirroring quietude which gently floats;
Till cerulean clouds lays on the fold of eve's dress
After stardust pours its beads, cobalt its hue .
How this moment is lost in the nip of dawn
When indigo fire fades gently, the sun will rise
As the hours end quickly, I dare not forget,
One midnight calm of blue...never the same as this one.!
Janis Thompson's Contet:
The Color Blue - Revised, Old poems Too
Entered 1/27/2017 /A re-post
"outer space
wild blue yonder the dress she wore
Awesome
Ahh, she dazzled me
As she walked by me
Sweet beauty
Radiant the cloth that covers her
She’s blessed… she wore a
Blue dress
A smoken bronze woman
One of God’s daughters
Blessed
Worn a blue dress
Her dress was royal
Colors blue green blue violet cornflower aquamarine
So beautiful she flows the dress comes down to her toes
And as she twirls Prussian blue cadet blue Cerulean teals navy hues
So sky blue ultra blue tones as it wraps it drapes her body’s bones
Blizzard blue pacific blue robin's egg blue denim blue bell true’s
Colors and covers her from her neck over her chest to her the tops of her shoes
She a angel God daughter dress in a ….
Dress of Blue
Sweet beauty herself was royal she dazzled me
Ahh, she dazzled me
As she walked by me
Sweet beauty
Radiant the cloth that covers her
She’s blessed… she wore a such a beautiful
Blue dress"
12/28/19
Blue Dress Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anthony Slausin
Reborn, a Christian fallacy
dreams that have haunted me
left handed, what a shame
someone has to bear the blame
a teddy bear that never speaks
guards the child from attic squeaks
goulish figures of a mothers glow
a fallen angel I never did know
applesauce and mustard bread
free cheese, the government said
mice dined, making it swiss
tasty morsels of sweet bliss
the susquehanna, we dove in
reliving Huckleberry Finn
pirates of pennies, poor as hell
rich in imagination, an everflowing well
milk crated wagons, with skate wheels
coats of reds, and hubbed teals
discarded paint, the color of choice
a smooth ride with a rugged voice
raiding gardens, tomato fights
the guilty exposed, under the lights
pasted innocent faces shook with fear
only to plot again the following year
camping trips in mountains so vast
became tented bedrooms shadows cast
but the stories told, will remain history
because for many of us, that was family
and those were the days...............
Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever (Toller)
To “toll” is to dance like a fox
Luring mallards or teals to the rocks
Where a hunter’s awaiting
What the dog has been baiting
Scaring duckies right out of their jocks
The Old English Sheepdog
I’m partial to dogs that are shaggy
That are goofy and sweet and not naggy
They only see good
From their eyes under hood
So it’s sad that their tails aren’t waggy*
*Like Boxers, their tails are docked
The Papillon
Considered more missy than mensch
(Butterfly’s the translation from French)
In private is seen
With a king or a queen
And in public with Dame Judi Dench
The Pekingese
At a Cantonese restaurant with luck
One can still find some things for a buck
But imagine my shock
When the place down the block
Ran a special on Pekingese duck
The Petite Basset Griffon Vendéen (PBGV)
Le Basset tres Petite Vendéen
Un Griffón compagnon de Cézanne
Et Renoir en Provence
*Comme ils lounge lors d’une danse
On the grass with a glass of Marsanne
(*As they lounge during a dance)
The Pit Bull
The Pitty despite what you hear
Is not vicious at all but quite dear
It will sit like a dove
With its eyes full of love
While it slowly devours your ear
The Pomeranian (Pom)
The Pom is a kind of a spitz
A Chihuahua with fur in a ditz
The type of a pooch
You can cuddle and smooch
Or show off with a date at the Ritz
The Poodle
The Poodle is known for its smarts
For excelling at music and arts
But an owner was telling
Me after the smelling
They also blow nuclear farts
The Portuguese Water Dog
Pity the poor Portuguese
Who ended up sheets to the breeze
His bowl had been spiked
With a port that he liked
You could tell by the smell of his fleas
The Pug
Behold the repug-a-nant Pug
With a mug that resembles a thug
Though their owners observe
What they really deserve
Is not scorn but a cuddling hug
The Rhodesian Ridgeback
I bought one of these for a dollar
It said Phi Beta Kap on its collar
I later found out
(Though not without doubt)
It had been a Rhodesian scholar
you distract me. and deny. and you defraud me. you destroy. me. you dream of me. and distance me. you are diffetent from me. maybe you aren't me. and maybe I don't hear love's melody. maybe you didn't move me. so why am I moving. and why is my heart racing. and why am I smiling. lusting after you. why am I craving such pain. I choose to taste your misery. why. I'm in love with you miserably. I love you. Deeply. Uncontrollably. Wholeheartedly. Distinctly. Unashamedly. Miserably. but you touched me. oh so miserably. but you touched me. when you touched me. I felt. I feel. purples, blues, greens. Or is it greens, purples, and blues. I can never be sure. I thought I would utter what was real. I thought I would be brave. Yet, I'm mute. drowning in your affection. letting you toy with me in this sick little game we play. I'm your violin strings. you're my play. my therapy. our mornings. the sunrays. navys, teals, royal blues, metallic. violets, plums, lavenders, and lilac. emeralds, limes, hunter and olive greens. I feel this so much. I am coloring. you inspire me. and you deprive me. and you tire me. retire into me. deep into me. deeper than deep. into earth. into me. back into time. the distances. the differences. the places. the people. realities verses comos. fears versus daydreaming. still, you are me. you are. me. and you are lovely. you read the poetry I write. you called me lovely. you are right for me. I write to you. lovely. can you write to me. you are beautiful. poof. poof. and away we go. hi. hello. you distract me. hey... Mister
Hear me mates, before its too late.'
Get awake..Not woke! It'll send you broke.)
I have cried in anger.' In sadess and rage.'
At the counrys humilliation, and the world its stage
Its time to leave ideaologys that steal great
Aussie values.' Cue labour liberals greens and the teals!
Go and study the 1980s.' Though there were still fools
In charge.' The people were more involved in actions
By and large.' Put away navel gazing. And disengage.'
From the quackery and e u foolery.' And useless tirades'
In all states and territory, can you just say g'day? Embrace
Your true heros.' Listen to what they say.' I think of Hobart
And Patterson, Bosi' Latter and Hoody.' Culleton and
Rennik and Antic; another goody.' Smit; and krystal, iyah, Claire Woodly too.' stand
With them Australia." And get back to ( true blue!)
I float in an aquamarine idyll;
a bird soaring in shallows
while hearing translucent echoes,
hovering pastel ripples
reminiscent of cobalt depths
carried on shy currents
to an alabaster beach.
Sun's shimmer tiptoes
on serpentine waves,
pirouettes like star bursts
among the soupcon
of fuchsias and teals
that tease the surface
like a coy lover.
They named me the wilderness quail
I'm not as pretty as other birds are,
my feathers are golden, brown and frail;
I hide when a storm starts and my bizarre
behavior becomes fret, no stone pine
can protect me on a noon with aflare
lightenings crossing the semi-dark atmosphere.
Uncommon and ignored by all I spent
my day searching for food by a lake and wait...
until an unsuspicious lavaret comes afloat,
sometimes he stays at the bottom for fear
and I have to fly miles to provide a meal
for my chicks waiting in the branches of a fir:
I'll be disappointed coming home without a kill!
Although I'm so neglected by all the blue-winged teals,
I consider myself to be humble and kind in deeds:
helping a lost sparrow find her desperate mother
who is searching for him everywhere near a pond,
or a brook where reptiles attentively wait for their prey;
I'll hide him under my wings if he's ever in danger!
By now everybody can guess where this place is:
I dwell in Southern Italy, a land that many envy
for her stunning scenery and delicious fruits,
where no vigilant quail ever goes hungry!
Keep me company and I show you the beauity
and the tranquility of this lovely country!
COLOR FORMS
The movers and shakers of art delight.
In the shadowbox-brain they regain sight.
Dear Dorothy clicks her sarcoline heels.
Her striped boat sailing on sea-hued teals.
Zenith dawn blazes in coquelicot hue.
The artist’s tipsy trees blushed pink and blue.
Majestic Oz - smaragdine-jeweled city.
Ponies prance romantic colors - witty.
Brush brush brush then fill the scarecrow with straw.
His prideful chest overloaded and raw.
The movers and shakers of art transform
Fairy tales into surreal color forms.
10/12/2018
Anthony Slausen’s The Paint Movers Contest
sarcoline - flesh colored
coquelicot - (kohk-li-coh) - red like wild poppy
smaragdine (sma-rag-din) - emerald
Hyacinths in a trance, bewitched by hysteria,
Amid the shadows of a mythological eclipse.
Elixir of roseate red oozing out loose progeria,
In islands where the sea weeps azure breaks.
Amid the shadows of a mythological eclipse,
Daunting me subtly with its crimson smell.
In islands where the sea weeps azure breaks,
From golden dust to smooth bristly as well.
Daunting me subtly with its crimson smell,
The fading breaths of sinister falsehood.
From golden dust to smooth bristly as well,
On black graveyards to azure seas, we stood.
The fading breaths of sinister falsehood,
In the sunken bronze halls of antique disease.
On black graveyards to azure seas, we stood,
Teals are being tormented by nightly noise.
In the sunken bronze halls of antique disease,
Elixir of roseate red oozing out loose progeria.
Teals are being tormented by nightly noise,
Hyacinths in a trance, bewitched by hysteria.
Written: May 22, 2022
With the river finally free
the birders in their migration
collect along the shore
lost loves and memories
as not a duck is to be seen
not knowing better it would seem
that spring is missing something
MISSING:
Hooded Mergansers
Common mergansers
Red-Breasted Mergansers
Buffleheads
Common Goldeneyes
Barrow's Goldeneyes
Ringneck Ducks
Blue Winged Teals
Northern Shovelers
American Black Ducks
Wood Ducks
Pied Billed Grebes...
Please call if seen
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