Best Vociferously Poems


A Walk On the Beach

Morning breaks in cheerful warm brilliance,
pale sapphire sky pristine.
Grey-white gulls glide vociferously above
in search of firma bound fare.
Reflections of Sol’s arms vault from the sea,
smooth but for zephyr stroked folds;
pure, sugar white sand kissed softly
by persistent waves subtle roll.
Soft ghosts of tepid breeze course random,
sensually caressing what be;
long thin-bladed grasses sway lightly
in synchrony and shameless delight.

With bonnet in hand an aged woman strolls 
beside the vast Gulf of blue; 
damp, firm sand squeaks soothingly
against the soles of her tired bare feet.
Her large eyes of brown focus ahead,
bear no witness to her days and shine;
fine flowing hair of luminous white 
draped over shoulders so slight.
A pause, though brief, in quiet reflection,
her gaze upon the distant view
and mind in stoic reminiscence
of past friends and loves and wonder.

His strong arms hold her close tightly,
warmth of body and soul unite,
while gaiety in unbound laughter
disclose love once again renewed.
A tender brush of hand upon cheek
raises fiery passion in both,
as excited young eyes meet in ardor
essence link in eternal embrace.
One warm briny tear born of these thoughts
streams slowly down her cheek,
she slowly walks on as sand squeaks soothingly
against the soles of her tired bare feet.

Premium Member Originals

I don’t know that anything about me
is original – I mean, all of my atoms,
I’ve been told, once belonged to some
dimwit creature (hmm...) roaming the earth 
long before air-conditioners and Mai Tais...

And talk about Sin! – now that’s an Original
I would gladly give my share away in 
a heartbeat; sure as hell, not missing a 
cinder of the concept – though, if not the 
world itself, I have no recollection of a 
bountiful garden...while readily admitting
to having dined and drank with more than 
one size and specie of venomous serpent – 

But of all my Non Originals, the abiding 
presence of love within me is a lineage
I would gladly claim as my own, were I
asked, praying to be absolved of any penance
if untrue. And, if false...then I would claim,
even more vociferously, my uncompromising 
capacity to forgive all, thus hopefully moving 
existing originals into the Lord's Grace of 
Transformative Light.

Premium Member Wordsworth Blues


       Ah, dearest Wordsworth, 
       what dost thou think?
       Of my meaningless poetry, 
       scribbled in purple ink?
       Fooling myself, that I am an
       international poet?
       Just a beginner, and don't 
       think I do not know it!
       Would that you were here
       by my side.
       A poet master, both to rule 
       and to guide!
       With lantern aglow, I know 
       not which way to go!
       Just lost in wonder, as the 
       last kiss of the winds of 
       summer doth with kindness blow.
       On the 'morrow, shall read your 
       works with love, so vociferously!
       Next to the waterfall, beneath the 
       scent of an intoxicating orange tree!



                    8/21/2021
                         3


Haiku

Quietly filling
 deep cups of the red blossoms.
 The morning sunrise.

 The rock bowl is full.
 Filled by the rain for the birds
 and for my quiet mind.

 Dried stalks of rhubarb
 turn brittle in the summer.
 Born again next year.

 The sparrows come back
 to say thank you for their home
 I lovingly made.

 My red dogs eyes gleam.
 Before eating, her eyes ask
 is it OK Dad?


 HAIKU; MEMORIES AND OBSERVATIONS and EXERCISES


 Archery
 The strong bowstring sings.
 My arrow will find its home
 I turn to sip tea.

 First Love
 How reluctantly
 the shy, young man moves forward
 toward the full, red lips.

 First

 In the maiden’s bed
 He found his heaven and hell.
 Such was his first love.


 Alone

 Small favor to ask.
 Please spread my ashes on the sea.
 No wife, no roommate.


 Who is Buddah

 She poured my green tea
 Until the cup ran over.
 Now, I know Buddah.



 Memory

 Cousin Roni was loud.
 Married a Samoan man.
 They both ate roast pig.



 Memory 

 My old friend, Bucky.
 Carried a gun in his boot.
 Afraid of himself.



 Old Friend

 Alvin slapped his first wife
 and then he married a man.
 I don’t know him now.


 Exercise I


 Diagonally
 he crosses the wide, busy street,
 to catch up with love.


 Exercise II

 Vociferously,
 she announces her mistrust.
 Not Republican.


 Exercise III

 She knew the problem.
 Incompatibility.
 He had to learn it.


 All his writing was
 autobiographical.
 He was egocentric.


 SEASONS

 The autumn raging
 I am blinded by red leaves.
 Too many to count.


 Surf crashes fiercely.
 Shadows lessen, skies turn gray.
 Winter storm moves near us.

 This Spring, my house burned.
 I now have a better view
 of the blue mountains.

 Fresh ink on blue lines
 the words come like hungry bees
 to form my Haiku.


 Synch

 Summer. I feel strong.
 Equal to birds in the tree,
 and pebbles near feet.

Premium Member Female


“Female”

What effort and measure of resilience does it take 
to deliver into this world reaped from a seed
planted by plunder, some call love, some call disaster
the breaking of inner limbs 
the cracking wide-open of a new world
the sap that bleeds scarlet 
across white sanitized hospital sheets, 
or that unsung She-warrior stranded 
amongst burning bullets and bombs
in a wide-open muddied battle field?

listen - 

a woman’s screams
and a child enters the world 
to tell their own story -
their first cries 
like a song they vociferously sing
and a woman becomes or not 
a first Home, that is loved or not,
yet for the life of the child 
in some form or another, 
despite the urgency to separate,
the woman in mind, never leaves

the woman will always call 
her girl-child back in

the woman in the girl back-turned, still listens, 
for something, like unsung comfort or 
love, reassurance, the mother-load

at the end of days
the woman will collect all her dreams back into her
in a solitary place not of war but of peace

such strength commands all from a position
of pain and joy embedded in open neutral territory,
no borders or walls remain here, in this place

like a fury
like a fate

she will call all children in
and deliver them 
 
the story of wolves



Candide Diderot. ‘25






“The girl burst out laughing; she knew she was nobody's meat.”
Angela Carter, The Company of Wolves 








“There’s something about a woman with a loud mind that sits in silence, smiling, knowing she can crush you with the truth.” 


“When the world tells you to shrink, expand.”


“Women are the real architects of society.” 


“I’m grateful to be a woman. I must have done something great in another life.”








Tall poppies. 
Intoxicating, addictive poppies.




Heroine. 





for her, freedom, love, strength, symbolism
birth, creation, survival, legacy
stories -
gvlm.

Joyless Joseph

Wordless worries wander wearily working wayward,
    Towards thoughts transgressing truth’s textured tide.
As always acknowledging agnosticism’s appeal,
    Essence easily evaporates, exeunt Emile. 
Very virtuous violent vowels vociferously validate,
    Sanctimonious sessions some subtly sacrosanct.
Is it in incrementally immense ingenious imaginations,
    Or ontology’s omniscience overcoming oceanic oratory?
Roughly rallying rage’s recessive righteousness, 
    Quickly quartered queens quietly quiver qualities quoi.
Under unctuous undeniably Umbrian utterances, 
    An astute and acute awareness as always arose. 
Placing plausibly proverbial prevaricating predications, 
    Many morose morally myopic manly mighty men, 
Eulogize everlasting ephemerally entertaining evocations.
    Insinuating incredible implications, insomnia initiates,
Notably nullifying notoriously negligible nihilistic necessities. 
    Lies lay low, linking lofty linguistic lessons like laws,
Of optional opportunities oscillating on occult overtures 
    Until underlying unctions unify ubiquitous unknowns.
Joyless Joseph’s joyful Joy just jumped, just jumped!
     Killing killjoy knuckle kosher korma koranic krap.
And announce another anonymous anodyne appointment?
     (Empiricism’s emphatic emission, enter erotic Eloise).
Having Heidegger helps, hope’s homunculi hunting human. 
     Get gone ginger guesses, go grope Ginger’s grapes!
Immaculately ironic inquisitions instigate immediate impositions. 
    Once onto opaque ominous orbs, obey Oracles open orders.
Framing funny fractions, flaming far flung frivolous fictions,
    Death defies dollar damnations, deliciously done devaluations.
Usually uncle umpire understands useful underlying ululations,
    Also affirming apples avuncular altruistic assumptions.
Creeds crave caves, charms calm cause, come conquerors,
    Be belligerently bad, betray birth’s beginning, balance budgets.
Entreating entirely empty, emphatically elusive, existential entelechy,
    Is, importantly, incommensurably idiotic, inexplicably impractical indeed.


Vacation Niagara Falls

Stunningly Spectacular!
Written words that cannot define
nor justify describing
this glorious creation
of Mother Nature’s splendor.
Nestled in beautiful wine country
of Ontario, Canada,
horse-drawn carriages whisk you
by fields of purple hues
or down the trendy promenade.
Vociferously she announces her presence
 before she comes into view.
a spectacle like no other.
She is real.
A breath-taking phenomena,
Romantically ageless and timeless.
She is the gateway between
the two great nations
of North America.
A surging, thunderous mass of water,
powerful yet soothing,
torrential yet tranquil
and never speechless,
she is all of these.
Sun-kissed in a rendezvous
of rainbow colors
her water plume dusts you
with her cool delicate mist.
Hauntingly surreal,
she is more than a captivating vision,
no less than a spiritual experience.
She is Niagara Falls.

February 19,2016

Seasonal Sensational Love

 Seasonal sensational Love 

 These lovely eyes bracing the glimpse of Trees, Mountain,
           And Rain in parallel, Falling in its pioneeringly expressive ways!!
Clutching my attention, Serene beauty stickered on my Heart,
           Tantalizing with the rhythm of jazzy shake,
Rain pounded against my window!!

Ringing bells lighted the inner peace,
            Mountains dwelled with the green nature band,
Paced off those lovely yards,
            The garden green snippet filled my soul with the refreshed    air!!

The sun rising across the bay,
            Inter tranquillity fluorescenced my soul.
Praising vociferously with the theme of attitude towards life,
            Around the globe wanted to face the Life's fate.

Ruby red sun tinged through the west,
             Water falling through the Cleavage of the mountains!!
Rainbow flashing against my eyes like a mist in heavenly arcade.
              Thumping night life on the bustling island amazed me!!

The white cotton sky,
               Plugged in with vivid spectrum in depth!!
Immersed in deep ruby eyes of her,
               Neither the constraints of latitude and longitude,
Just bouncing the sunshine forever!!

Bracing with rose gold moon in its arms with the twilighting stars,
               Perked up with full of energy!!
Rejuvenated with full joy,
               The strength of spark instigated my feelings towards you!!

Harmonious accord establishing the ceasefire, 
                By showering rain to melt the temperature of boiling sun!!
Opening the switches of my heart,
                Stimulating the senses,
You will find desire of Love towards you!!

Melancholy rain, Cinerous sky,
               Blazing eyes, Peasant walkaway!!
Just can’t forget You Honey,
               Life has quite often solaced my eyes,
Glow of cotton rubbing socket of vision throughout years!! 

Your eyes,
               I love you baby!!
Your smile,
               I like that way You come and cheers my heart blazing my soul!!
Baby just come in my life cleansing my broken heart,
               Baby you come back please!!
And then only you will find the peck on the cheek!!
               Staring in my direction,
You attracted me again, occupying the vacant space of my heart!!
               Come again, please heal my heart!!
© Maddy Sp  Create an image from this poem.

Box of Chocolates

B arbarians and intellectuals promote winds of change
O nly the blameless ones will be left over, to turn the page
X enophobia will be gone, good riddance to evil pride

O bvious to news watchers, violence is taking control
F orecasts of gloom, become a weariness to the soul

C hange is coming, but, in the end, life will be better
H olocaust shadows predicting even stormier weather
O xy morons prefer brutal cruelty to human kindness
C ataclysmic shifting of world economies tectonic plates
O pulence and greed spitting into poor poverty's face
L ashing out vociferously against any one who is different
A pathy and willful blindness is the trendy new religion
T ime is running out for all who promote hate and fear
E veryone is equal, in God's eyes, even he sheds a tear
S oon, very soon gale winds of change are going to blow

         Will we all survive? Only God knows!

Summer solstice contest
December 13,2015

This Is Niagara

Spellbinding! Memorable!
No written words can 
 describe this
 breath-taking phenomena.
She is one of Mother Nature’s 
truly magical gifts.
 Nestled in the 
vintage wine country
of Ontario, Canada, 
horse-drawn carriages artfully
whisk you by scenic fields of purple hues
or down the trendy promenade.
Vociferously announcing her presence, 
she comes into view.
Only then does she become real,
romantically ageless and timeless.
She is the invisible barrier
separating the two largest 
nations of North America.
Surging, thunderous sheets of water,
powerful yet soothing,
torrential yet tranquil
but never speechless.
Sun-kissed in a rendezvous
of rainbow colors, while rhythmic 
water plume dusts you 
with a cool delicate mist.
Hauntingly surreal,
more than a radiant vision,
no less than a spiritual experience.
She is unforgettable.
She is beautiful.
She is Niagara Falls!


The most Beautiful Place Contest	
Liz Reilly

An Alliterative Abecedarian Composition

Abecedarian poems are also known as alphabetical sequential writings.
Being deviously different and difficult to
Compile, compose and complete.  Consequentially combining
Determination and deviant, driven poets devote determined time, and  
Exercise extreme etymological enthusiasm 
For forging a fitting composition that
Guarantees generous grades, and gracious responses.
Hardly a task for hapless or haphazard hit-and-miss
Inexperienced, indolent authors with illusory intent to
Justify or judge poetry.  Justification requires a jury of
Knowledgeable critics, possessed of a knack for keeping
Lyricism and logical, laudable linguistic language in line!
Many Poets, maintain a masterful grasp of their manuscripts.
Narrative is not so  noticeable in novices, nondescript, nor
Obscure, opinionated obdurate writers, and
Poor penmanship, periodically proves this point!
Questionable quills quite often quake at
Recording random rational and rhetorical rhymes.
Skill sidesteps them: sends some to settle for success on some other site.
Taking time to tackle and test their knowledge may
Unknowingly, undertake an unrewarding undertaking for
Views vary - very violently and vociferously at times,
When writers, with witticism, warmth and wisdom, waffle to
X rated Xanthippes or
Yield to the yells and yammering of yahoos, yokels and
Zealous zealots!  Zesty writing of an alliterative ABeCedarian is zany!

Rhymer.  November 16th, 2016.

Premium Member Cookies and Cream

I love you better 
than Cookies and Cream,
my lifelong favorite

more than seas playing footsies
with shore clams
in cuddly tropical sands

The warmth of enticing Caribbean 
soothing waters
                 
(billowy-sails...fields of overhead 
stars...night's complicit fireflies 
helping chart to a romantic cove
a beat-up heart seeking a paradise-like
new-start)

(a desire for tasteful, novel, cheerful effervescent 
brew, a need to leave on the old dock past that settled for
impure bitters)

( navigate clear of thought defacing
apps like Facebook's and Twitter's

that falsely entice, tempt   
a free-thinking, sacred spirit, to 
express living solely on a mindless
uncaring device – not a true life, just a
wax slice

not abiding complete, but in fact, 
manipulated into electronic defeat....)

Petals need firm attachment if to be
enticing blushing roses~ blooms for crinkly smiles, 
puckering lips and playful toes-es – 
                 
               Valentines of 
perfumed hearts made of hand-laid,
lacy type paper, crafted by flirty eyes
in agreement with pheromone receptive 
noses
                                           
         A softly played harp...a bower of flowers...                     
Back lathering showers shared – which 
requires a minimum of two daring 
hearts...wantonly, lovingly paired – 

Love is always trumpeted, openly, fondly, vociferously
musically declared....

Personally Speaking, Singing

Singing is Bi-polar.
Some songs sound like an aching molar
Packed with violence, hate and anger.
Other songs are sung to win him or her.
Soft sweet words that cause love to whir.
Passion packed with minds a blur,
Bi-polar songs make emotions stir.

Singing touches the soul.
Old love, new love, no love…take their toll.
A heartfelt song can break a man or make him whole.
Singing about God help’s reach Heaven’s goal.
Songs that strengthen fulfill that role.
Where Heaven’s gates need no bankroll.
Only pure hearts who found time to enroll.

Singing vociferously is fun.
Whether in the shade or in the sun,
It does not matter where it’s done.
I did it once where a spider spun.
My woodland tune like opera sung
Brought birds to listen one by one.
A peacock’s courtship I once won.

Personal singing is not just for a bird.
They chirp all day singing no word.
Like man, they tweet when love is stirred.
Then comes the rooster; someone is spurred.
Anhingas sing; blurred tunes…absurd!	
Meanwhile the raven’s voice is heard.
Why are they singing; we’re all bestirred!

Copyright January 14, 2014
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen

Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: Three or More Stanzas, Three or More 
Thoughts on the Same Idea 	
Sponsored by: Sheri Fresonke Harper

Nature and Human Juxtaposed

Deep in your peaceful mind,
confusion starts.

Like volcanic eruption.
Deep down the depths,
of the dark blue sea.

Your heart and soul collide.
In Conflict, Causing a rift.

Like the tectonic plates,
that collide and shift.

Disturbances are brewing inside yourself
Concealed by your demeanour.
Smile, that camouflages your despair.

Like the tsunsmi that originates,
below the unfathomable depths.
She cannot be seen or heard,
on the surface of the calm sea.

when all avenues you expend,
to solution find.
And hope narrows down.
You garner all your strength peacefully.

When the depths of ocean,
recedes close to land.
She gathers all her strength,
and sucks the sea along the shore.

You use all your vocal,
physical means to express. 
The pain, your anguish,
and your hidden desire.
Exploding in a frenzy,
that Impacts humanity. 

The tsunsmi she rises,
to great heights, 
Rearing her mighty head. 
Rushing to the shore,
Destroying all that's in her path.
Conquering land masses.
Changing the contours of the coast.
Causing loss of life.

Having vociferously convinced humanity, 
Regarding your wishes and needs. 
You have victoriously conquered,
those who opposed your plea.
Wisdom prevails ,You carry them with you. 
Occasionally there could be casualties.

Having expended all her energy, 
she receeds back to her rightful state. 
Taking along the spoils of her fury.

Nature and humanity are entwined in a way.

Nature expresses her displeasure,
not because she is outraged.
Its only when the balance,
of nature is disturbed.
Her energies so expended,
creating natural calamities.

As for the human casualties?
It's humans who encroached,
Into natures way and space.

Human calamities are caused
by the imbalance of mind,
heart and soul.

Matter of intellectual bankruptcy. 
The thinking mind remains static.
Does not evolve with the changing times.

Nature she does not have this gift.
She can only do what she does best. 
Accumulate and expend, 
energies in her natural state.
© Sam Raj  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Persuasive Powers

I remain both surprised and alarmed
when revolutionary entrepreneurs,
AltRight survivalists,
poor and terrified AfricanAmerican and Hispanic young adult U.S. males,
     and females,
and the National Rifle Association
vociferously agree with Chairman Mao
"Power is found at the end of a gun."

While alarmed
because violence breeds further mindless violence,
I continue to be surprised
because even a child could notice
Power originates from Earth's revolving
and enlightening
relationship to the Sun.

All other points of origin
are secondary,
derivative,
and perhaps not to be made too anthro-centrically much of.

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