Best Vocabulary Poems
She said concretize
and her vocabulary
Typified my desire
for words
amorously.
Then I came
across boondoggle
and thought
hell no,
Not me
feed me every
word in your
dictionary
take me from
dilettante
to fait-accompli
Make me the greatest
of all time
if only in my mind
Her tongue
can use my mind
indiscriminately
to the point
of confessing
Ooo, I like that
and all manners
of Freudian slips
Her words
produce
bitten bottom lips
She is the ..it.
Flowers are the divine vocabulary
That
God uses to compose heaven's literature
Of
Eternal beauty.
© Demetrios Trifiatis
08 September 2023
Glorious words,
romantic missives,
Unused obscure
edifying words
created, or
used in fantastically
beautiful ways
by
lexiconic guru,
and vocabulary maestro.
Intimidating
most of us.
Me anyway.
I do not know these fancy words.
Never thought I would need them.
Not sure I even write poetry.
I pour my feelings onto a page
Only using
simple every day
common words
These words I recognize
quickly and with feeling
Street-friendly words
make sense to me.
There might be
thousands of
better words I could use.
Gloriously, edifying
romantical type words,
But for me,
I have to use
Simple, every day
words I am comfortable
using.
Because my eyes
are so over-used
already, I do not
think they can
take any more
romantical, edifying,
glorifying, fancy-dancy words.
Not today anyway.
She went into apocalyptic shock.
What is that?
I do not know, but it sounds catamorphic to me.
I smile at my aunt, who knows everything.
Always has, always will.
And that means?
It means a psycholometergist was called in.
Really? It sounds more like a medical condition to me.
Where did you get your degree? Online?
Talking to her is a treat.
She always speaks with authority using the biggest words.
*-* *_* *-*
JUN-JUN VILLANUEVA
============================================================
~~~~~ ^-^ ~~~~~
Scheme
" Vision "
Vehemence
Occurrences
Synthesized to fabricate " LIMITLESS "
Neurons - clashed, rammed in panic ... lethargic
Brain's wreathed, wrenched, gnarled
Yet, " SURVIVED "
Language
" PENNED "
~~~~~ *-* ~~~~~
============================================================
*-* " WHERE YOUR POETRY COMES FROM " 2 TETRACTYS ONLY contest entry
Think I'll make up some new words today
John John will be proud, he'll say, “thatta way!”
Rules are for others
Not us, my brother
We'll be famous, written up in the history booksiyay!
It Has To Be
Right down the line,
With the spark of some hope
Someone is, reminded.
Don't forget about tomorrow,
I heard a man say
I remembered when the tomorrow's
Wasn't a word in my vocabulary
Only for that day!
We come back to,
Tomorrow's Promise
Must-be, God-given
Must-be, Has-to-be!
Changes come, always!
With it comes a new Hope
And the new ways
God-given, Has-to-be!
I would share wise words
but I lack both wisdom and
vocabulary.
time tells a vocabulary
time tells a tale of a grand vocabulary
the test of time is the test of a grand vocabulary
the test of time is the test of a grand magician
time is a test of time
time is a test of a grand magician
time is a test of a grand vocabulary
vocabulary is a grand tale
vocabulary is a grand tale of a magician
a grand magician is a grand tale of a magician
vocabulary is a magician vocabulary
vocabulary is a grand vocabulary
test of time is a magician grand vocabulary
test of time is a test of a future
test of time is a test of a grand future
test of time is a test of a vocabulary
the test of time is the test of a grand tale
a grand future is a grand vocabulary
the future is a grand future
the future is the future of a grand vocabulary
the future is the future of a grand tale
She was a flibbertigibbet from the get-go,
Probably from the day they brought her home from the hospital. I think this
was intentional, no foozle on the faerie's parts as they have a keen sense of humor.
A fopdoodle, some said.
A muckspout, said another.
I am not the kind to know new words right away, so I looked them up.
No one in their right mind could have labeled her a fopdoodle, because
She had a sound philosophy, and a smart-thinking head on her shoulder.
“She is a raggbrush,” someone whispered into my left ear, as I was looking up
The word ‘muckspout’.
“Hold on!” I hissed back. “I cannot look up everything!”
The definition of raggbrush seems to me to not make any sense at all, as the
Dictionary says a raggbrush is a person who is highly disorganized and grumpy.
The only people I know who are grumpy are highly organized, and it is my
keen observation and assertion that the reason for their grouchiness is because they are highly organized.
If I had clean houses, and freshly-sorted drawers, I would be grizzly-grumpy as I despise taking time doing something that perpetually and forever needs re-doing.
I hate to be a cacatuego, but I have to admit I no longer remember what a muckspout is and I looked it up two different times.
The trouble is, I forgot to write it down.
If you discover a really interesting word
For she who forgets to make a note,
Please email me. My email address is: MumbleCrustFopDoodleFlibbergibbetFoozleBerry@gmail.
There are some things that I should say to you
But I just can’t find the words
They keep running from tongue
And avoiding all my thoughts
And I’ve got to find a way, to say… you are…
Well you are…
The words that I can’t find
And the feelings I don’t know
But I’ve got to find a way… to show…
That I can never let you go
Until I find the words, to say…
You are... Well you are……
You are the rain that hits my roof
And sings me back to sleep
You are my strength to rise again
When I’ve fallen to my knees
You are the warmth that comforts me
When the cold has made me weak
And still these words they don’t explain
All the things you are… well you are….
So I try again to say these things
That I should say to you
To track down the words and bring them to their knees
And let them flow across my lips
So you can finally see, to me… you are…
Well you are…
The words that I can’t find
And the feelings I can’t show
But I’ve got to find a way… to show…
That I can never let you go
Until I find the words, to say…
You are... Well you are……
You are the rain that hits my roof
And sings me back to sleep
You are my strength to rise again
When I’ve fallen to my knees
You are the warmth that comforts me
When the cold has made me weak
And still these words they don’t explain
All the things you are… well you are….
My grandma taught me new meanings of “spoon” and “moon.”
Grandpa and she, as teens, would cuddle and kiss (spoon).
Apart, they’d mope around idly (moon), almost swoon!
written for, and entered in, Kai Michael Newmann's Moon Spoon Poetry Contest
on December 17, 2016
Flowers: God's glorious vocabulary expressing ideally eternity’s transcendental beauty!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
12 July 2016
a little foreign
language can open your eyes
to your own language.