Best Upstaged Poems
concerned about being upstaged
the glorious blue tinted rock
negotiated
sent in the puffy white wisps
to cover the vibrant coloured evergreens
the brown field in the foreground
felt offended
wondering out loud
"what about me?"
then added "beauty you know is..."
but never bothered to finish the cliché.
for my part
i was more interested
in what the mountain had traded the clouds
what could it possibly have offered?
September 23 2016
I got the Muse Blues
Where did my muse go
I got the muse blues
Tell me where did my muse go
Maybe down 'n Louisiana
Hangin' out with my friend Flo
I got the Muse Blues
My heart in a rage
I got the muse blues
My heart in a rage
Sayin' if muse try to act like Flo
Well He's gonna be upstaged
I got the muse blues
He's back but kinda sick
I got the muse blues
He's back but kinda sick
He tried to dance with Flo
And got his old butt kicked
I got some muse queues
If muse ever leaves again
I got some muse queues
If muse ever leaves again
Steer clear of Louisiana
And my pinnacle poetess friend
Protected by a pet Cheetah
Behind the parchment screen and eye to eye Punch chided.
Who are you? Who is she? He’d point it out. You’d see.
No marionette with strings was he. Their paths collided;
Judy stands and faces his animosity
The play is writ by man and maid and staged to teach,
the right and wrong of woman’s position, our place.
Standing on two legs, she meets his gaze without speech.
What shenanigan have brought on this crutched lambaste?
Let us ponder Mr. Punchinell’s stance, his missing leg
let his two-eyed profile tease, has Judy been upstaged?
Stumped by the shadow lore, the punch, the audience begs
for the stiff-necked tirade to end her pick engaged.
Speared by humour, we see two realities spar on
with no means to run, the missing third prong’s a pun.
First Published by The Ekphrastic Review
Oh no! What are YOU doing here?
I haven’t seen you in a year!
But I’m sure it’s perfectly clear,
I’m still red-dress fabulous, Dear!
You thought you could steal my spotlight?
You sauntered in like it’s your right.
But now you know, it's no fair fight—
I’m red-dress fabulous, tonight!
Surely you see, it’s my parade!
You’ve been upstaged. You’ve been out played!
And now your welcome’s been overstayed,
there in my red-dress-fabulous shade!
It's getting late and you should fly-
I bid you, red-dress-fabulous Good-bye!
January 15, 2019
Poem of the Day ~ January 17, 2019
impermanence of youth upstaged every time by purity of heart
Published in my 24-page photo/anthology ~SUNLIT RIPPLES~ 2019
AP: Honorable Mention 2022
Submitted on November 13, 2019 for contest PROVERBIAL MONOKU 2 sponsored by CAROL CONNELL - RANKED 1ST
GABLE’S ETERNAL LOVE
Frankly my dear, I don’t give a...
After all, my true love fell with wings!
No twig nor heifer could compare…
This screwball comic welcomed dawn,
dauntless in a restless time of war.
Fatter pockets than a king,
she raised two mill, on a war bond tour.
~ That’s my girl, my wife ~
My darling angel's final performance on earth.
Today, I watch her on screen, often without sound.
~ I know each word by heart ~
I want to see her red lips act,
her silent timing classic.
~ To be or not to be - fate chose ~
I lie my head upon her grave,
Neither Sylvia nor Kay console me.
Carole could not be upstaged.
~ My black and blue, blood so cold ~
1/11/2017
6th Place
Multiple Placements
Sponsor:Broken Wings
Valentine – Form D contest
Dramatic Monologue
Line 1: From movie “Gone With The Wind”
Line 7: “mill” short for million
Line 14: Lombard’s last movie: “To Be Or Not To Be”
Line 16: Wives after Carole Lombard
Although other news Covid’s somehow upstaged,
My friend called to tell me her son got engaged.
It felt like a beacon of light in a storm
For news that is good is no longer the norm.
The newly betrothed also let their friends know
They adopted a rescue dog; photographs show
Happy grins on their faces and maybe the snout
Of their puppy, although there is room for some doubt.
I picture a wedding and all it entails,
The planning reminding us hope yet prevails.
The future is hazy and up in the air
But love conquers everything, even despair.
Did mirrors ruin our world?
Or merely persuade us
to resurface
as our mirrored selves?
Before mirrors
there were only still ponds,
waiting for the wind
to stop speaking.
A face appeared
looking upon itself,
then drifting away.
The breeze was kind;
it never let
the face linger for so long.
Polished obsidian came,
then bronze,
then silvered glass.
Each one promised
a sharper truth
of self—plain and simple.
Mirrors decked our halls
revealed in bathrooms;
handhelds to look behind;
little compact ones;
to put makeup on.
The mirror created
more than a reflection.
It quietly invented
comparisons—
with yesterday
with others.
Impossible without
first seeing
self—plain and simple.
Narcissus bent low,
believing he had found love.
Instead, he embraced
an image.
"Mirror, mirror on the wall..."
never flattered.
The Queen hated
the answer,
hated the looking glass.
Alice stepped into
to another world
through her looking-glass.
Later came
the age of the selfie
staring back from every
wondrous place,
only to be upstaged—
by that face—
in front.
Oh yes...... That face!
We look in mirrors
less as we get older!
with less selfies
looking back as well.
Then came the Corrector.
The mirror asked
"What shall we improve today?"
Lighten the hair,
Soften a few wrinkles
Ease the furrows on the brow,
Touch-up the scars
Remove the crow's feet
Reshape those lips a little?
Anything else?
The question now is:
"Who am I?"
"Who do I see there?"
in the mirror
which asks
"Which version now?"
"Oh! Corrector Mirror
on the Wall,
who's the fairest
version of all?"
"In the Corrector Mirror on the Wall!"
Each child has talents and Dee always loved to skate
One night at the lake she was called up to the plate
The high school hockey team was “slip-sliding away”*
So call her a chauvinist; Dee wanted to play
But when the coach recruited her for the team
One boy offered a bottle of shaving cream
They couldn’t skate backward; Dee sure showed them how
Stealing their puck, she curtsied, and took a bow
Take it from Dee, men don’t like to be upstaged
By her free-flowing glide the boys were outraged
When it came time for the school’s holiday dance
To find a date, this skater hadn’t a chance
Day in, and day out, from the ripe old age of five
I’ve take to sharp objects and whittled at their sides.
Plotting the precise angle with penetrating gaze,
the slant of slice, just so nice, as memory replays.
With curt tongue and tireless ire, I shred the sages
Burroughs, and Asimov, the Shakespeare past ages.
Butchering with rare delight, the language on the page
lancing every metaphor and simile upstaged.
and so I've arrived her in rhythm and in rhyme
killing the English language as other people dine.
*Nibbs are the pointed ends of fountain pens
as well as being an important or self-important person
Every day I try harder, to be more and more like you.
To brighten up everyone’s day, like you always seem to do.
You smile and you joke, I laugh and I listen but nothing is ever quite right,
when everywhere I look and everywhere I turn you're never out of my sight.
Why can’t I be more like you, to be perfect, like you always seem to be?
Like when staring through the cracks in my mirror and you’re looking back at me.
I watch you in the reflections of windows and in the eyes of all my friends.
Only then to be upstaged by you, over and over, yet again.
You make it seem so easy, but deep down I know it’s fake.
You’re a liar, a cheat, a scoundrel and all you ever do is take.
Take my friends and family away from me, no wonder I'm all alone.
Even in a world of 7 billion, I still have no one to call my own.
Every day I try even harder, to be more and more like you,
to wash away peoples problems, to help them start anew.
I stare you down every morning in the mirror, mounted on my wall,
hoping one day that you’ll show me, how to be a person with it all.
However now I realise, no matter how many times I ask,
that you’re never going to speak to me, for you are just a mask.
You are not real, you are but fake, one simple self-creation,
a perfect, better version of me, spawned from my imagination.
Yet every day I still try harder, to be more and more like you,
to hide behind the mask you are, in case the real me breaks through.
~
A Timeless Connection
Where can we find two better hemispheres
Without sharp north, without declining west?
Whatever dies, was not mix’d equally;
(From John Donne….."The Good-Morrow"
My dad held a presence, that was clearly outdone
by the stars in the heavens, this I confess…
Upstaged it may seem by other cowboys we've seen
on the stage, on the screen, in the movies, no less..
But in spite of it all, we knew he was one …
A star in the eyes to the ones who knew best…
He was a star in the eyes of this creature he loved
His "Queenie", beloved, who learned from his touch
She trusted the whispers, the instinctual caress
of his hands, of his legs, and the click of a wrist
The tug of a rein or the touch of a wisp
She would bow down, adore him and then softly obey,
to please him, appease him, while he in return…
would love her, so gently….his trust always earned
And all through those days as they stirred up the dust,
the sun would smile down until it would rest
And on the horizon when the sun would be gone….
my Dad and his queen would blend into one
~
_______________________________________________________________
May they be stirring up heavenly dust together…..
Dad and 'Queenie'.....united forever
_______________________________________________________
3/1/18
glorious and tall i stood...
you could lie and say i was king
and still tell the truth
i defeated Attila the Hun
and outwitted Alexander the great
upstaged Julius Caesar.
i crawled through the dunes of Arabia
and splattered them with bandit blood
i took the lives of many
that my people may be safe another day
i fought bravely for my country
and now, Valhalla awaits.
*i know the history is incorrect, but its figurative.
Dragon really shouldn’t have borrowed the penguins, away from the Zoo.
Now he was their baby sitter at the lake, from morning till night, so true.
Not to mention a catasaurus was now stalking, his delightful little friends.
The Trolls volunteered their time, to help defend those cute ones, to the end.
He wanted to take them everywhere, wherever he could and had ever been.
Though most of those we’d been kicked out of… Well, here we go again.
First we passed our illustrious church, where the organ and voices rang on.
But as the penguins began to sing, it came out a screech, so I hurried them along.
Next we went to the local Ice cream Stand, where the Trolls devoured icy delights.
Brain freezes naturally ensued, so the penguins sat on their heads, what a sight!
The crowd applauded such an ingenious save, now penguin hats, are all the rage.
The Mayor gave them animal service vests, so in the news, he wouldn’t be upstaged.
This allowed them into the Mall, where lit fountains flow, a fascinating place, indeed!
Dragon became their slide, as the kids marveled at their fancy whoop-de-do deeds.
Next dragon herded them to a western shop, for sunbonnets, cowboy hats, and duds.
The mayor up for re-election, again, came along, and also got completely, gussied up.
Next was a candy store, where Dragon bought them a few, Yep, they’re like all kids.
A sugar rush ensued. Dragon reeled them in, before: who knew what, heaven forbid!
He even had to get them, out of the skylights, not easy for a bird that doesn’t fly…
But by directing them to the ice ring… he let them wear off their lengthy sugar high.
At the Mall Food Court, was sushi, and the children got to feed, the penguins they knew.
Naturally, the further they went, the more crowds ensued, until they bid the mall adieu.
But first they went to the bookstore, as yes, penguins like to read and be read to, too.
They’re now planning a penguin adventure book, ‘All the Things a Penguin Can Do’.
Then leaving the crowds, they went home on Dragon’s back, a lakeside nap, overdue.
Now I ask you very simply, if the penguins were yours to baby sit, so true…
Where, oh where, would you go… with such a precious little cargo, and you?
‘BLACK SHEEP DRAWBACK’
Discouraged, anxious and unsure—pitch black tarmacs start their war
Petrified, panicked and distressed—uncertainty cracks amidst unwelcomed guests
Dissociated and desensitised a perfect attack—as nervous disposition follows predictable tracks
Another prestigious black tie event—suites and shoes will seldom boycott consents
Perfected flair keeping companies in the black—elegantly formal their wives attack
Each one attired in the colour of grief—sadness and mourning a blackmailed thief
There stands Jack, in a room that is packed—emotionally elusive, cunningly drawn back
Mysterious, powerful negative dirt tracks—black-market malevolence no visible cracks
Observation, lack of confidence to engage—courage imminently pending and upstaged
An edgy apprehensive shrink-back—protection from impulsive reactive, confused attacks
Alarming blackout to opinions of others—ignoring motives of guaranteed buffers
A black sheep just got blacklisted again—anticipation of recurring hurt and pain