Best Vainglorious Poems
(Read later stanzas for more of the humour part ; parody of politics)
I Can't think well of a democracy
if nepotism and false promises
are part and parcel of its idiosyncrasy
A system of governance can't appeal to me
if it forever stinks of the 'stinking' rich plutocracy.
The media the ravening wolves many times their puppets,
together they howl for our divided attention
With wily words to win the masses of marionnettes
The nation's welfare merely their scheme in pretension.
Wonder why political power has to be the monopoly
of ambitious, vainglorious affluent power moguls.
Why can't they simply choose leaders
from any sincere poor yet wise and humble individuals?
The promises of a better world by 'em' politicians
are simply the oratory tricks of slick tacticians.
Demagogues come in all shapes and sizes
They come in 'perfect' future leader disguises
Pulling you and me to polling booths, luring us the dumbstruck voters
To amass as much power and wealth as possible in their limited quotas.
No wonder poor presidents are turned or burned
in the form of their rude and crude effigy cartoons
Comic sarcastic politics I say, since a caricature
it purposely lampoons!
Then the demonstrations, remonstrations
but they only invite riots and tear bomb gas
So if yah can keep your rallies peaceful
maybe you won't be such an ass.
And if yah do go ahead ranting, panting, slogun chanting
No seeds of discord nor weeds of hate be sowing, planting
for a showdown with fleshy arms, no metal arms can still be prancing, advancing
With sloguns not shotguns be ye protesting and demanding.
Thus I really wonder if politicos politicking
really do make the world tick.
Or do they simply in many places cause
timebombs to parallel the clock's tick?
(ok cast d ballot n vote 4 me as funny presidential candidate
of no-man's land ;
Reigning vitality you buoy on vigor of freedom
Hugging distant continents, caressing lively shores
Eternal since birth of time, ceaseless evermore,
Sensational, immense, omnipotent, abundant,
Enthusiastically you uplift glorious dawning sun
Greeting flamboyantly resplendent arc of horizon
Sprinkling golden glitter, propagating in unison,
Stoking aesthetic illusion into waves of passions,
Traversing civilizations from Atlantic to Pacific,
Rumbling leisurely, visiting tranquil beaches,
Hosting aquatics, exploring beauteous coral reefs,
Impulsive as can be, you are fierce, yet poetic,
Ferocious battlefield for the Navy, submarines,
Yet, fairyland luxurious, rocking passenger ships,
Sundown you reflect in aspirations romantic
Floating deep in womb, quixotic moon’s mystique;
Tides of your moods~ ebb and flow of emotions,
Boundlessly undulate, vainglorious true notion~
No force on earth can dare restrict your motion
For, you’re the magnificent, almighty blue oceans.
August 22, 2021
Placed 1st: Writing Prompt, Oceans, or Seas Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
The scorpions creeping out from words slowly, acutely framing
where judgement claims the higher position unconditionally
lone vulture hanging over its unsuspecting prey ready to pounce
once so blind ambitions reverberates back as unqualified honours least deserved
Pompous narcissistic elements with nonsensical fruitless talent
held within egotism where fools of choice becomes one’s ability
under total admiration publicly declared in lonely self-centeredness
becomes a sterile reflection back to oneself blinded by arrogance
As friends become nemesis’s unnamed obstacles of your vainglorious rise
Sounding echos reverberates a never ending recording of undeserving self-pride
knowing more than all of what is right claiming the false prize for me, me, me
It matters not that lonely superiority must accept the great divide
False praise their claims attention that inflames your senses unjustly wise
crying regrets a prize is a prize nothing to be gained under the sun or moon
striving after winds have blown a gale force within hidden torment
the wreckage that's left after such destruction can only be found wanting
a co written piece in unrhymed quatrains by Donna Loughman and Liam McDaid
From glory to dust-2
F ragile humans flailing away at cataclysmic events, trying to
R ule the world without a clue, not knowing the way
O ut... Impressive they try to be, imposing their
M ediocrity in synchronicity with deceptive ideologies
G lamourously they present themselves as role models
L eaders of society, in the arts, and business moguls
O f the sports world, they excel high above the
R est of the competition, they are winners, never
Y ielding to doubt or fear, ever overconfident
T oo many times they reach the summit, the peak of power
O nly to find themselves crashing down into the mire of disgrace
D isillusionment will rule the hopeful mind and heart of the innocent
U ntil the day when they finally comprehend that humans on their own
S imply cannot control or manage the chaos that confronts this world
T ogether the impious and vainglorious rulers will return to the dust.
John Derek Hamilton
March 22,2017
In the beginning there was a lonely word but soon after
there was no room at the meagre hostel for the saviour
Sanguine hopes flash-flooded the sanctuary of hearts
sacrificial blood of Christ awaited to be spilt in vain
Spelt out the message of rusty nails corroding on cross
bones mounted the flesh ready for vanishing memories
Lest we forget Christmas it amounts to summits of wrappers
luxurious gifts opulent indigestion after a vainglorious feast
Reindeer and global delivery services occlude the notion that
taking stock is not about counting presents but reducing the cost
Jesus flashes from i-pads I this and I that please give me more
extra goods additional abundance mince pies and stuffing
Belching and flatulent Tim reaches for his heartburn medication
tastes uppers and downers sniffs white powder on bank cards
His wife smears the makeup she grabbed from under the tree
her new perfume a bountiful offering of disguised scented myrrh
No sense for frank frankinsence as she sniffs expensive fragrances
from benefaction bottle’s decadence and reduces benediction to myth
Gift wrap explodes from the fireplace in the mix of unopened packets
just after Father Christmas has made a lucky escape from the scene
Arson of gluttony self-inflicted suffering self-immolation of sorts
sorts out this unholy communion followed by smouldering mourning
The insurance company refuses to pay as they insist that the couple
had backed the wrong course of action in vile contempt of true faith
They however donate a beautiful bible of careful calligraphy
with gilded ornamentation bound in leather and lather of time
There are no walls standing for wailing when Tim and his spouse
and it remains to be seen whether they might find a mangled manger
To resume business as usual or take refuge in meaning and truth
when the word in the beginning had become a sorry blank canvas
18th November 2018
Contest Christmas Mourning
Sponsor P.S. AWTRY
The scorpions creeping out from words slowly, acutely framing
where judgement claims the higher position unconditionally
lone vulture hanging over its unsuspecting prey ready to pounce
once so blind ambitions reverberates back as unqualified honours least deserved
Pompous narcissistic elements with nonsensical fruitless talent
held within egotism where fools of choice becomes one’s ability
under total admiration publicly declared in lonely self-centeredness
becomes a sterile reflection back to oneself blinded by arrogance
As friends become nemesis’s unnamed obstacles of your vainglorious rise
Sounding echos reverberates a never ending recording of undeserving self-pride
knowing more than all of what is right claiming the false prize for me, me, me
It matters not that lonely superiority must accept the great divide
False praise their claims attention that inflames your senses unjustly wise
crying regrets a prize is a prize nothing to be gained under the sun or moon
striving after winds have blown a gale force within hidden torment
the wreckage that's left after such destruction can only be found wanting
a co written piece in unrhymed quatrains by Donna Loughman and Liam McDaid
I avoid florists, not the people,
who generally speaking,
are polite and quite unremarkable.
I write of those floral gangsters;
the vainglorious gladioli,
eugenically forced greenhouse geraniums
with their large shar-pei heads.
Garish claustrophobic hosts
pressing in.
My center inwardly trembles
when confronted with Pelargonium posses
all the heavy menacing smells
of the over-cultivated.
Charles Darwin, thought these latter-day
angiosperms as, “an abominable mystery.”
They are life-forms born of missing links,
genetically modified to eat oxygen
out of human brains.
Dogs and cows
are immune to their deleterious charms,
but we who are drawn to color and form,
sniff them out, as if they are the hard drugs
we were once cautioned
never to reach for.
O you Peony, you Day Lily, you seemingly
innocuous bunches of Mums,
I see you, you smug mobs,
and I cringe away
rather than buy my sweetheart
yet another monstrous spray.
THE MONSTER YOU DREAD
i can’t handle rejection,
the unhug of perfection.
a piercing scream of perplexion —
my complexion streaked
grouted and piqued.
i backhanded you by
closing the splintered door,
vainglorious to the core —
now you can’t see the open sore.
you never uncovered, never looked,
never came to find me, i’m overlooked.
hiding beneath the bed, i’m the monster
you dread — tear-salted tongue, the martyr
with claws tearing at my skin - my fear
that she sips her coffee carelessly - oh dear...
the suicidal stripes down my cheeks sear
as my mother wanders through her year.
if only a look, a hug, a kind word spoken
to me would tear me from this sea forsaken —
this torrent, harangue of waves, haplessly
dashing, against heart and soul. if only a creak,
a scintilla of light would peek into
my claustrophobic space, saving me from me.
but i, only i...must resolve, unhinge the lock,
step out and see the clearing of the crock...
all alone on my private island - its unsecured dock.
i pretend it never mattered but carry the doom
within my flesh, my invisible childhood looms.
ready at turn to rear its misshapen head, its claws
digging into a buried past — all my flaws...
jealousy pops up in the middle of my joy
i stomp the frenetic beast, clawing its face.
i refuse to be that monster, that disgrace!
6/14/2019
Move me Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Richard Lamoureux
Chimera of visual candy and sounds. I twirl my poetic skirt — the Magyar gypsy in me abandons time and space — the earth is mine — to mold, create as my God whispers splendiferous life, the ways of this sphere and paradise.
vainglorious words
floating in the atmosphere
i pop their bubbles
I free myself, listen to the critiques and adulation, twisted into the audience’s imagination. We collaborate in thunderstorms. I’m not a rock or an island but a diamond in the rough. Polish my adjectives and verbs. Resound the earthquake in my soul. Embellish my nouns and stamp on my heart.
the dew of my breath
joined with the peppermint wind
— rhapsodic rejoice
The world twirls in party spin until I’m dizzy and giddy. Our hands clasped - with centrifugal force — we go round and round. I capture in my mind’s eye the nuances of the ride. Fish fly and birds swim. Babies grow up and adults hush.
the cup and saucer
teatime passes by quickly
— porcelain shatters
Until my dying day, I will treasure this merry-go-round parade. My earrings dangle, my pearls midair, the embers of my hair, heels kicked up in lusty dust, doves cooing, ravens cawing. There’s always more to say.
skirt with pressed wrinkles
the restless iron suppressed
— abandon my death
7/6/2018
How Times Have Changed~
We ran so innocently in lush, soft, beautiful grass!
Dreamt of wonderful futures on the finest, fresh smelling sheets.
Mother treated each child as her very own angel creation.
When apart, we pigtailed beauties, actually called each other on real phones!
Sadly, the deliciuis times of being together, are no longer here,
And no, sorry! Facebook and a child stuck in front of any screen.
Can never bring back the joy, the togetherness, the very vibrancy
Of loving and close human conviviality.
Love has transformed, so that, it's like looking for it in a rear view mirror.
We lost our love for one another, in tragic totality!
A God, a church for some, just is far too demanding,
Besides, we might have to leave our house, or worse be standing.
We killed God and became ravenous, selfish beasts.
We cannot connect humanly anymore, as once we fearlessly did.
That feigned pretense of "caring" is absolutely the worst.
It is nothing more than electronic symbols on a device!
Our once sparkling, spiritual souls, that belonged to God.
Totally stone cold,like the dead, under the sod..
666 and his minions launching their final work.
Theit goal? To see that God is never once mentioned.
We really think we are bigger than God? Yes, we consider Him a clod!
We never attribute any success we have to Him
Drunk on our own wonderfulness, indeed hollowness,
In a world that we never created.
Detachment, no-speaking is the word of the day,
We never consider or think that another human,
Might need a hug, a visit, from another soul.
In fact, we rob them of hearing our voices at all.
So busy are we, destined on a train to hell.
Deaf,are we, totally to our own death's knell.
On fine new couches we sit, huge TV's captivate us,
Our stomachs, full and bulbous, but it doesn't bother us.
So off to get manicures, haircuts and more.
We are horribly prideful and vain, strutting like arrogant roosters.
We can't stop playing vainglorious games.
Never for God, oh, no~just for our personal,insignificant fame!
Panagiota Romios
4/10/2018
An evanescent bouquet of skewed briars,
is how a tinsel laden tawdry essence wickedly unfolds ,
scuppered signpost to a fetid human compost,
faint light pendant on soul crushed quantum migrant,
who might chortle at vivid veil flimsy vacuum,
skirt recklessly around bogus symbols,
peer behind the squalid limp sodden hedge,
mock myopic moribund mist upon boundary busting dawn chimera,
sneer at synthetic spectrum elastic in its irritating tidal wave surfeit,
cerulean fabric‘s milky way escape plot,
in a perilous quest for that eternal tape loop mantra,
the synaptic heart of that vainglorious horizon,
self-knowledge under charcoal moon and silver cloud veneer,
or feral waste rapid fire contagion,
the indecisive day glow dither on the margins ,
of fly weight feeble frantic dash,
that velvet shadow treason daubed pettifog,
known as tangential wanton cobweb fester creed,
the mind a bloated ripple vortex numbing in its scope,
golden mirage but faux fur real concoction,
against the banal backdrop of complex-ridden superficial eddy,
from floral garland poseur stricken en train,
some vox pop indignation mere shrinking violet showcase waver,
the gleam-hued truth has this dastardly demonic derailment,
that I brush aside as spiteful oxalic sting repost,
that deceptive mint green forest of chameleon cant,
sly nuanced molten maple syrup hint,
from out of kilter tree pierce otherworld,
unseen yet bliss-edged virtual garden of firm conviction,
not just from isolated enigmatic individual script,
such as torrid turbulence or mindless scattered rim shot,
when conventions can be altered in exotic prose,
human zeitgeist has this far too often penchant,
for silkworm rapt effervescent double speak,
whilst plain unvarnished uplifting utterance,
resides within the deep crystal spring well,
of us torch aloft emerald earthling sages,
please augment the rock buttress stark phrase,
whose bluntness is a carrier pigeon of candor,
devoid of muted gray cloud blind waffle,
aromatic sprig to giant spasm of bold pluck,
quandary of human race at hearth,
frightened cliques, hidebound yes men who yen,
to swim the azure gulf of august freedom,
to the Eden where lucid tongues herald pristine witness.
where values at the centre of our being should blossom
Patriots we are
Ashen through war
To a more promising today.
Ruminant mammals as warlords
Insinuates the future of glory to come.
Open to emigration from across waters
Today is our day
Significant to determine a stronger unity.
People of the United States of America
Educate your minds innately.
Our focus is for greatness in a better way.
Plausibility is our qualifying state.
Love, peace, and harmony are what we search for nowadays.
Equanimity is our religious situation.
P eople of unity
A ssemble as one
T o form a greater purpose.
R ebels for a cause
I s not a threat to others
O nly a stronger walk.
T his is our country.
I deals are now.
C ome patriotisms unto the clouds to celebrate.
P arade so grandiose
E njoyed by all
O stentatious vainglorious
P raise triumphant
L ong live the USA.
E nvision events that fulfills our people and our states.
________________________|
PENNED ON JUNE 30, 2014!
Ruffling gold blooms and leaves, hue dimmed by time
A gilded frame holding a slice of life’s history
I’m drawn into the younger man, the vision sublime
Sailing stolidly upstream towards his destiny
A castle in the sky, all ether and phantasm
Drawing him nigh with its ivory flirtation
The possible reap of his boundless enthusiasm
Limited only by blossoming imagination
As he departs, I do wish to share my blessing of age
Hard-won patience and placid perspective
If only to inform him, to act as his sage…
But would it deter him from his futile objective?
A glance as he navigates, back to the angel he calls
Warm reassurance for his doubting mind
Far behind the angel, a modest castle's solid walls
Little does he know, the home he will find
Vainglorious dreams bathe in youthful euphoria
With volcanic demands upon fate and destiny
Unpretentious walls’ comfort to replace phantasmagoria
Brash strivings supplanted by consistent humility
I envy him not, his naive, headstrong trouble
Through pitched battles, my dream castle faded away
So lovely, yet impossible to heal the burst bubble
Such ethereal visions life's truth did betray
5/9/16
For Contest:Within a Gilded Frame
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Inspired by "The Voyage of Life--Youth" One of a series by Thomas Cole.
I view it as unseemly to use high-sounding language to make an impression.
I perceive it to be ostentatious to marshal words vainglorious in succession.
It is a determinant of consternation, if not constipation, to be so assaulted.
Obsessive practitioners of linguistic pomposity presume they are self-exalted.
Whom [note proper objective case usage] do they fathom they are deceiving?
Do they inaugurate imaginations veined by vanity that I am them believing?
I desire a day when poets dispossess themselves of verbiage of pretension
And with exemplary expediency abandon exotic words they need not mention.
Poets aspiring to perfection should endorse this humble verse unreservedly,
Or have their word-overworked works consigned to anonymity deservedly.
Famed gold crepuscular rays angling down
Knifing in between, through volcanic haze
Hualalai and Mauna Loa’s crowns
Fire Goddess Pele greets fresh island day
Fuchsia blooms explode, steal attention
Pollens mingle on zephyr coastal breeze
Hallowed entry, this tropic dimension
Surf thunder backdrop, soundtrack of the sea
Running shoes crunching the roadside lava
Kaleidoscopic blooms, soon to transmute
Mango, papaya, lilikoi, guava
Untended harvest of paradise fruit
Slow tempo set to the island perfume
Soul dances in the fragrant sensation
Unbridled speed would be this journey’s doom
Not to give in to the exultation
Entering town, the cast of characters
Pungent whiffs of spoiled fish atop stale rice
Green Shangri-La’s dingy inheritors
Tropical Bukowski's frayed paradise
Amphetamine native, drawn skin and bones
Wincing eyes, loose grasp, cigarette homespun
Tribal markings long burnt, faded blue tones
Completed journey, dark side of the sun
Manicured denizens clutter the way
Fair guests at the Royal Lik’a’Heini
Young surf seekers grimace to greet the day
Pakalolo Hostel, skunk-and-briny
Volta at the pier, Triathlon’s temple
Hallowed asphalt, footfalls of history
World’s smartest man living life so simple
Broom pushing, tune whistling, smiling at me
I should run faster; it's Ali’i Drive
Temple of Ironman’s Marathon pride
Vainglorious dreams have boiled alive
Burgeoning pace, a seaside suicide
Fair breeze has halted, sharp rays now reigning
Blanket of torpor fights progress forward
Through fragrant pillow, all fight is draining
A ballistic migraine arcing southward
Demons exorcised, sultry purgation,
Epic journey ends in clear sacred brine
Feet dive in wet sand, a bless’t sensation
Gaia’s ocean of sweat swallowing mine
4/28/16
© Thomas W. Quigley