Best Urbane Poems
(Innuendo -- Pigs)
All around are sticks and stone
Feel God's loving arms around you
-----At last, I am redeemed-----
A feast of my soul, you shall receive
A cake for dinner, I made out of stones
Ratchet pigs fill their dirty mouths,
Consuming my soul, sipping on champagne
At peace with myself, brushing off the walls
Nevertheless, tonight they speak in tongues
-I strain my ears to listen;
While pettitoes approach my page
I hear the squeals, I hear the chit chat
from he/she that wears no shame.
Am I she, the evil one?
The one you penned -
Under the influence of manipulation
Trying to stifle my voice of beauty
No matter, I am crazy, a dreamer
Never claim to be THE INNOCENT,
The Poet Destroyer!!!
I ignore the walls when they speak
Nevertheless, tonight they have eyes
They watch my every move
A trotters dance, of togetherness
Forgetting the reason we are here
I will win and conquer my privacy
You can't destroy what you can't see
I am the glory of my day
I am God's pet!!!
A Lamb, wearing white
To others a wolf in disguise
Spitting slithers, swear
I am the Devil's Advocate
I marvel how they snort at night
Today I will crash the sore whispering party
You! My friend, no longer exist
You are naught more than cobwebs
You will dream about me, write about me
I will give you ammo, then read it from you.
I will show you what a demon is!
Like the light and envy of every moon
I shall ask my reflection and remove
the residue from hogging lips.
I will watch you urbane the truth
The heat and lust I conquer from you
A font with no reflection, dating apples
Heading away from its own advice
A hard task from its quill, enjoying leftovers
Pinpointing fingers among shallow dreams
It's sickening to see pigs pat each others back
Feeding on my demonic words
Convoying innuendos in my bearing
Now it's my turn, to turn the roaster on
With no interest in removing muddy sheets
I shall smile and walk away
In - joy - my heart beats and smiles
Knowing, I made you look --- AGAIN!!!
By: PD
Categories:
urbane, anger, animal, evil, slam,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
'Course as a grim teller of tall tales,
(albeit poetic) reasonable rhyming
quasi roundelay I readily admitted to feign
cuz, stringing words together with
pride and prejudice plus
sense and sensibility, jocularity,
and conformity I dissed deign
(spoiler alert) iamb, trochaic,
dactylic, and anapestic metrical reign
jest your ordinary garden variety
dollar short day late dime a dozen
penniless citizen banker Abel and Cain,
yet mine mean mien blithely, daringly,
fatuously, ludicrously, nauseatingly,
pretentiously playfully urbane
many (if not all readers)
will coon sitter
yours truly harmlessly insane,
whose feeble attempts
to wax and wane
oft times falls flat (splat goes Matt)
as if dropped out plane,
without a parachute
instantly recuperating while lain
supine (winded, but...
none the worse) asthma brain
suffers concussion, confusion, contusion
actually, immediately, and unexpectedly
knocked fluent German speaking ability
within germane guy verständlich?
If ye really comprehend
trademark non Turkish gobbledygook
then explain (using
language of least familiarity),
but best to commence
with eye catching hook
impossible mission
apt lit pupils (mine)
to evade even momentarily
riveting, spellbinding,
and transfixing look
courtesy ingenious way
with word ye snook
cored me and took
wind out my sails.
Nor could I breakaway courtesy automobile,
cuz 2009 Hyundai Sonata
would not start... yea for real,
thus finding me ready to yoke
neck (think gibbet) each heel
dangling as body goes limp
blessedly, finally, happily
ridding me of any/all hangups,
one less goo goo gaga born this way
poker face cards for him to deal.
UNGABLUZUM describes this schlemiel!
Categories:
urbane, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Enclosed Rhyme
You’ve given me a quilt, a pen, some inks, papers
You’ve given me a lonely night
You’ve given me a piece of silent on moonlight
You’ve given me a dark of alone owl
You’ve given me dawn of crow flying
You’ve given me a morning of a shining sun
You’ve given me a busy urbane life
You’ve given me a tiresome afternoon
You’ve given me dusty dusk with cattle of back to home
You’ve given me a lamp in the incessant sound of crickets
You’ve given me a radio with hackneyed news of politics, economics….etc
You’ve given me your graceful face
You’ve given me your full
You’ve given me my loneliness
Oh no! Yet; I’ve missed something!
I’ve missed something more than you!
As if I’ve missed everything!
Because you’ve not given me my poem
-March 24, 2019 Chattogram
Categories:
urbane, how i feel,
Form:
Free verse
IMPRISONED (collaboration)
by~ Jun-jun Villanueva
Urbane cavalcade - flaunt in gaiety
Warbling hymns in ego - cyclicity
Jigging gracile moves in vivacity
Relishing in zest in this gravity
Kinsfolk in flamboyant fete - oh its fate?
Smiles, elation in face delineate
Like nothing's wrong makes me exasperate
No one cares? No one adores? it's too late
Recurrent nightmares peeve me in sublime
Making incubuses remorse in rhyme
Bequeathing qualm, fright and fear - death like crime
Kith and kin in laughs while I'm in grave time...
by~ Poet Destroyer
Twittering chime parade of glee
Unspectacular weed flowing trough me.
Boxed in a box like a tick or flea.
No one understands- what they can't see!
Outside myself holding my breath-
Or should I say what is left?
Trapping torment with false courtesy.
Preexisted past, without certainty.
Locked in a sanctuary grave of ivory ribs,
My life in a vault- trashed crib.
Feet lashing against my skin.
Twirling the rootless valves of sin.
No one cares! No one adores!
My prison trash coffin brought ashore.
A collaboration with * Jun-jun Villanueva
My collaboration contest
Categories:
urbane, life, grave, me,
Form:
Couplet
Inside a bamboo garden, where I followed a red-crowned crane
an exotic treasure of another sort held me spellbound
seated upon the lawn, a courtesan beauty there did reign.
Guilty, I stood beside a Lychee tree, expectations of arraign
but she smiled with cherry lips, in pale blue she was gowned
inside a bamboo garden, where I followed a red-crowned crane.
A delightful scene of refined Chinoiserie, created quite urbane
Lotus flowers, Jin of bonsai, beside the paragon were found
seated upon the lawn, a courtesan beauty there did reign
Exquisitely she sat, blush on her cheeks, fragile as porcelain.
I longed to caress her coifed hair, cascading and unbound
inside a bamboo garden, where I followed a red-crowned crane.
I feared death, for when she beckoned my heart was being slain.
I bowed before the Eastern goddess in whose beauty I had drowned
seated upon the lawn, a courtesan beauty there did reign.
Worthy of gracing a palace, she and the Chinoiserie shall remain
no longer will I find her graceful figure on the ground
inside a bamboo garden, where I followed a red-crowned crane
seated upon the lawn, a courtesan beauty there did reign.
July 16th, 2017
Categories:
urbane, desire,
Form:
Villanelle
Dr. Jekyll
smart, urbane
nurturing, dreaming, scheming
inventive, anxious, lustful, violent
carousing, raping, murdering
drunken, debauched
Mr. Hyde
Categories:
urbane, life,
Form:
Diamante
Saturated with fish fry smells, Bar-B-Cue smoke,
rodeo dust and sounds of deep water blues,
with teasing frothing lace spread on the shore,
Gulf Coast birth breeze blew winds
in sails to Caribbean Sea, Blue Mountain
berries, banana walk yam hills,
And coconut rain drops tapping reggae beats
on zinc roof tops on cool verandah nights,
in herb scented air, curling roast breadfruit smoke.
The tarrying there tested the soul,
matured the spirit, fulfilled long tried
attainments of deferred dreams; then
the sea recruited its journeyman again.
Pacific Coast pleaded an adopted native son home. Home
to new sea shore sands dusted in smog self negation
of urbane destruction and self nullification of community,
caught in the veiled nightmare—lurking in the promise land.
Hence, lessons learned from a gospel tower that never knew a church,
yet gave life-lived sermons that put homiletics to shame, crucifying
pipe-dream pie-in-the-sky nuances on the crosses of realities.
Atlantic waves, undulating like rhythmic buttocks, frothed
a scent of magnetism greater than the tightening hold of gravity,
attracting an uneasy soul, searching spiritual solaced sands; only
to discover that the seas all share the same shored design: Yes.
Same shared sorrowful savage slave story! Different sea: same sand.
Now awaits Guinea Coast sunsets and Cape of Good Hope
cul-de-sac early morning sunrises; then on to the sands of heaven.
Regrets are for those who fail to chase their dreams to realities.
Categories:
urbane, analogy, imagery, journey, metaphor,
Form:
Prose Poetry
VIDEO/AUDIO on YouTube above. NOTE: On the video; double-click to enlarge, and/or, right-click for the drop-down menu and click on 'Loop' for auto-repeat, click settings and pick the highest level for quality viewing.
Morality
Moral
development,
standard adolescence,
we are externally controlled
also, trials are judged,
consequences
follows
Moral
adaptation
sensing both personal
and societal involvement
in adulthood supports
reestablish
bygone
Moral
definitives
intricate principles
rules obeyed avoids penalty
substitutes horrible
if it is met
better
Moral
law-and-order
continues through our life,
unpunished lawbreakers create
lawlessness, and mayhem
advantageous
urbane
Moral
circumference,
best helps one's interest
serving others, will further you,
naught based on loyalty
encouragement
reward
Moral
behavior's
when laws vary of rules,
light abstracts versus absolutes
o'er prejudiced thinking,
alternatives
exploit
Moral
complacency
peaceful coexistence
when facial grins excel the glares
good choices existed
self-reliance
attained
*Heptastich is a non-rhyming verse poem of 7 lines, syllables are; 2-4-6-8-6-4-2
2021 March 16
Categories:
urbane, analogy, introspection, motivation,
Form:
Verse
Listening to the winter rain
Sit we sombre wolves urbane
To the mountains, long to go
Where we listen to the snow
Categories:
urbane, rain,
Form:
Rhyme
written last year after Maya Angelou"s death-
Men wonder wherein my charm lies-
I'm not good looking or athletic in size-
I try to tell the guys,
But some think I'm telling lies.
I say to them,
It's how I carry myself-
Honesty in my eyes,
Politeness in my talk,
Gentleness in my actions,
Conviction in my walk.
I'm a gentleman
Extraordinaire-
Extraordinary man,
That's me!
I walk into a room,
And smile at those around-
I greet each one with cheer,
And soon the girls surround.
I don't brag or shout-
It's not me I talk about.
To the guys, I say,
It's how I carry myself-
Not egotistical, but proud,
Not meek, but not too loud-
Just old-fashioned gentility,
Ladies first, then me.
I'm a gentleman
Extraordinaire-
Extraordinary man,
That's me!
My secret lies within-
I'm neat, don't cheat,
Don't lie, steal or swear,
And always try to be fair-
But it's more than that I say to them.
It's life that I embrace-
It's how I carry myself-
Urbane,
With grace,
Never trying to disgrace-
I'm a gentleman
Extraordinaire-
Extraordinary man,
That's me!
Categories:
urbane, character, for her, for
Form:
Free verse
You might see me in the back streets
By the light of the full moon
With my look refined and cunning
I will almost make you swoon
Don't treat me as an enemy
Or fear me as a foe
Don't use evil words against me
I'm a well-bred soul, you know
I'm a smooth, suave, refined old chap
A four-legged paradox
Oblige me for a moment, please
- I'm an urbane urban fox
You've seen me on my rounds
But I'm not heading for your bins
No - you're far too quick to judge me
Though, I confess - I have my sins
One must eat to live, of course
I'll not claim to be benign
But I am a gracious, civil guest
Where're I choose to dine
The hen house holds a great appeal
And I know how to pick the locks
I do that with true style though
I'm an urbane urban fox
My poise and affable demeanour
Give me access to any Mayfair club
I'm a cut above the rural fox
Who seems happy with his "pub"
I'm not one to judge, of course
I'm far too cool for that
But jeans and a checked shirt?
No! I choose a jacket and cravat
No pints for me - it's G & T
Or Martini on the rocks
Oh yes, darling, I really am
An urban urbane fox
I can capture your attention
With my wit and sharp brown eyes
I'm keen to make a business deal
Should my nose smell enterprise
My fur is sleek, groomed and neat
My tail swishes to impress
My paw is keen to shake your hand
When I'm ready to invest
I truly never miss a trick
When opportunity knocks
I'm cordially yours
I'm an urbane urban fox
I enjoy reading high-brow lit
Classical music was written for me
Opera sets my spine a-tingle
So does ballet, naturally
I go shootin' with my country pals
As for skiing - I'd rather not
I find dancing is a pleasure though
I love the Charleston and Fox Trot
But don't class me as a Liberal
I am rather orthodox
Let's steer clear of politics
I'm an urbane urban fox
I'm polished. Well-mannered. Chic.
Rich beyond compare
Elegant and gallant
And oh, so debonair
But yes, I walk the city streets
In the hours before the dawn
There's something about the smell, you see
To which I'm somehow, strangely drawn
Don't judge me for that, please I'm just
A four-legged paradox
I thank you for your time
- With love. Your urban urbane fox
Written 10th April 2016
Categories:
urbane, animal, urban,
Form:
Light Verse
brush in hand, he breathes life to paper ...
columns ... bejeweled and sparkling
like blades of shimmering grass
piercing the night as star-flecked stalagmites
fingers of phosphorescent proficiency
flickering with the finest of human accomplishment
and twirling through the ether like fairies
darting and dancing to the throb of frantic grids below
glowing girders and gangling spires, agleam
trembling with the concerns of life
and dressed in the temperate weight of wonder
a thousand stories born each elegant instant
countless dramas and conundrums
spinning to their inexorable ends
numberless breaths gasped and giggled
heart-upon-heart pumping ire and exasperation
thrumming with passions, proved and pondered
or the typic pulse of the prosaic
a glistening garden of "la condition humaine"
a beast born of concrete and light ...
its urbane and provocative heart, beating ...
the canvas has come ... to LIFE!
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Something Bigger Than Myself" Poetry Contest,
Line Gauthier, Judge & Sponsor.
N/A'd in the "Cityscape" Poetry Contest.
Categories:
urbane, appreciation, beauty, city, humanity,
Form:
Free verse
I asked the desert
to carry me from this place
of the Qubbanet El-Qirud’ infertile soil
suddenly, that whisper of wind
took my hand, and walked
along and alone with me
I, heard a voice, in tones of angels
“we see your beautiful life within”
one that we do not understand
yet, I do not remember this life
as having beauty
I see a life that I have
wasted thoroughly; jealously
and unrighteousness ruled
my empty daze, before
this; please do something
do look closely into me
I asked this of both the angels
and my desert friend
the desert smiled…
as all of Heaven’ Angels
swooned and said, “your life,
from infinity you have come”
an infinite and [i'n(y)o?om?r?b?l]
probability, willingly mixing
yourself in all particles of life; you are of
infinite scintillae; that blend
into; the “special purpose”; that you
is urbane, decipherable, and vestal
becoming a fertile soil, to accept
those ill wills and innumerable sins
of humanity, all whom have broken the trust
of that which was given…
impurity therefore, is humankind’ “Portae Lucis”
for in the realization of;
you gain your last chance
for a one time, "Contact with Eternity"
you are but dirty and
impure and infertile; I, have cried
upon my friend; this barren desert
begging to become, a participle
of a fertile land; enabled to produce
squalls and outcomes, and sublimed sulfur
I will enjoy, these powerful urges, these
lovingly nudged immoralities within me
and when, I finish with the each of you
I shall enjoy a long and lovely “Desert Sorcery”
verdancy, will be the [?ks'pe? tri?e?t] of thee
across this entire Earth; out of me
the sons and daughters of inequity will be judged
and their eternal ends will be welcomed
each of those who is as Adam, and Eve; will be left
out of a home, upon this Eden’ mothered globe
you, who have made burgoo of your lives
know this to be your truth
those who have suffered the dirt and impurity
of the oppressors will be made free, instantaneously!
Oh my lord! Once again, remake me as thee!
and reproduce me, as the very last; God Particle!
Categories:
urbane, analogy, inspirational, psychological, spiritual,
Form:
Free verse
“Sir, Sir, why are you smiling, so happy and glad,
If you do not mind to answer my simple query,
Please teach me how to be urbane and merry,
I am so tired to be labeled as gauche or mad:
It is so scary to look at the moon and feel sad!
The days are so long and the nights too dreary
The comedies too silly, the dramas too eerie,
Who would guess that a Romantic soul is bad?”
“But my dear friend, there is no secret at all,
No mystery in the rainbow for you to find
Unless you look inside your own good mind:
I have just answered a surprising phone call:
It was not Calypso or a holy archangel above,
No, it was just the voice of the woman I love.”
Categories:
urbane, happiness, love,
Form:
Sonnet
When I was in grade school
I was, already,
on my leftbrain dominant path
toward acting the intellectual snob.
This, in large part
my best offense,
my trump card, sadly,
against marginalizing prejudice
of our community's non-farmer economic
and political Elite;
The few kids
whose parents went to college
and/or inherited some above-the-norm property
business, preferably not agribusiness,
professional service assets
even the most straight white male
would appreciate
like doctors
and nursing wives,
two income households
with academic bright credentials.
By the time I reached high school
being on, or at least within sight of,
the top of my class,
and president of as much political property as possible,
or at least vice-president,
became my trump card
for getting out of rural SWM oppression,
depression,
suppression,
Where I was not safe,
back in the 1960s rural midwest,
and I could never possibly matter,
become one of the local community's Elite,
a pillar of church and state
while overcoming the guilt and shame
of being the gay son
of a below median income family farmer.
Intellectual snobbery
was my leftbrain overwhelming defense
against rightbrain amygdala loneliness,
extreme social-sexual isolation,
drowning in cortisol-baptized self-stigmatization.
Leftbrain dominant academic skills
were my best offense
for succeeding out in urban
urbane
multicultural
cosmopolitan
singing and dancing
democratically compassionate
win/win feeling and acting society.
The only healthy society
that mattered;
where I could possibly matter,
and become transparent
and vulnerable
and connected
and safe.
That defensive snobbery
still, in 2020 hindsight,
lives in my deepest closet,
longing for warmer
more inclusive acceptance,
invitation,
compassion
For right brain radical interdependence
with those of us,
regardless of income
and lack thereof,
regardless of self empowerment
and lack thereof,
capable of engaging
and energizing this tragic comedy
of small staged love lives,
Rural and urbane
Healthy and wealthy
Ego and eco-therapeutic
Left and right brained
Smart and warmly co-passionate
Proud and humble
Divinely humane
playing more win/win trump cards
through most cooperative co-investment.
Categories:
urbane, appreciation, emotions, farm, gender,
Form:
Political Verse