Best Whelm Poems
Where do all the pens go
that's what I wanna know
Did we give them to friends
who might keep them (depends)
Maybe burglars stole them
but not jewelry or gem
Or snagged by the goblins
scribbling with impish grins
They might move, we forget
--the final place it set
In a pile of papers
those inky escapers
Did they all take a hike
their pens' union on strike
Joined up with art supplies
--their artistic allies--
Hidden deep in the drawer
wishing to write no more
Check the desk! Check my purse
cuz nothing could be worse...
...than when a pen's needed
but they've all receded--
--to some faraway realm...
of untraceable whelm
(Inspired by Anne Frank's "Ode to my Fountain Pen")
Categories:
whelm, confusion, humor, longing, lost,
Form:
Ode
'Twas a timeless and starless era of dense obscurity.
But there! a self-perpetuating luminary--the deity:
Being of old, the first around.
No one knows his age... those numbers abound.
His name subdivides into many.
He can be called by any.
This entity subsisted when nothingness was.
Those infallible feet trod elsewhere made not of mass.
Thunderous lighting flashes he emitted amongst the black void--
the boundless space which was devoid
of the natural lamps now in the heavens--
That sky, base of his majestic havens.
This infinite Universe...his realm,
and it's inhabitants, for ever whelm.
The GOD nearest ministers--Angels, Seraphs, and Cherubim
execute his will verbatim.
These celestial citizens reflect the Omnipotent's refulgency
which allows their physiognomies to remain in juvenescence,
'cause they are the Patriarch's offspring--
Spawns of the King of Kings.
The Matrix of Life molded them and respired in those nostrils immortality.
Personal witnesses are they of his unique ability
as the Creator and Sovereign,
whom decievest not, nor feign.
Thier kindled eyes contemplates the magnificent Physique of Jewel--
The Source of Life which radiates life's fuel--
The Energy animating all living creatures
from since the moment he formed their features.
That Glory Supreme reverberates an elegant nimbus with spectrum,
thereof, the resemblance of his glow pierces the translucent city of gold and gems and
electrum.
O' even earth and its plenitude are his monuments--
Planet rich with elemental ornaments.
'Tis him and he alone...the Genesis of all.
So praise and gratitude to the most colossal!
Categories:
whelm, faith, mysterylife, universe, ,
Form:
Narrative
Wanton Willows weave athwart the weir
Wishing all the while wilful to wind
Their winsome wands that whelm and win
The restive writhing watery way
Meandering in moonlit mazy motion
Then moving on in misty morning mood
The river runs by reed and grassy mead
Where wily waders’ stalk in stealth concealed
The stream now slows tween sandy sides
With susurrating sound surround
As silvery strains speak of the sea
And flow transforms to estuary
Breakers brash now beat the brook
Unbinding bounds of broadening bay
And memories now melt of milder motion
The River to be merged with mighty ocean
Categories:
whelm, nature,
Form:
Alliteration
Stop, smell the roses and take your time.
Drop your guard and open your prosaic mind.
Walk under a shower of fresh rain.
Look up beyond the common plains.
Up in the sky sets a big beautiful rainbow.
Take in the beauty, drop off your mental cargo.
Feel the breeze of the wind as it leaves no trace.
Soak up the rays of the sun beaming upon your face.
Lay out a blanket, in the middle of a flowered field.
Close your eyes, whelm up the smells it yields.
Nature rendered you into a peaceful slumber.
Enchantingly inviting you back into her chamber.
Categories:
whelm, adventure, inspirational, nature
Form:
Light Verse
RAINMAN
What is art? Is a question, focus of much conjecture
And may be the subject of many an academic lecture
“If you has to ask, you ain’t got it” is a neat deflector
But “We know it when we see it” less flippant a reflector
And chremamorphism may clarify and serve as effector
Roles of fiction aesthetically please, in book, stage or film
But there are those who steer a life at their own helm
Write their story with such style and form that it may o’er-whelm
And we're moved, given joy by their being in reality's realm
There's one who's presence enhanced many a location
As he moved through spheres of news and education
With wit, style and verbal finesse played a role with elation
I laud him, known as 'Rainman' who’s performed such a part
That we perceive his life as a tangible work of art.
Thus he in his existence has embodied the aesthetic
You find me as the happy and willing perceptor
Of a life cast in a holy creator’s kiln
A divine and allegorical creation
That moves emotions such as to impart
A delight as of an experience poetic
25 March 2018
Minuanetta - Poetry Contest
Categories:
whelm, art,
Form:
Rhyme
When the snout of lush abundance is full and flowing,
when all prey and creature-kind spill upon the verdant swards,
then it is that I worry night and day,
for the stoat, fox and hawk are at work,
they scythe in the whelm and nimiety, they hack and harrow.
The kits and chuckling’s are many, the light too bright;
for then the foragers forgoing fright, are palpable and open.
The long-eared nibblers, hairs on scattered rodents laid bare,
they scutter, skitter and twitch much in the open
greatly prone to be pounced upon;
their paltry pelts all unhidden, and being many,
and not running, they are huddled; yet not strong.
If this slew not ease, if the grabbers not falter,
if the singled-out dither, the glut not wither,
then the green snake will climb to where nestlings hutch -
they all so easily plucked and quickly snatched.
I worry for the wee brown birds; mottled shells still unhatched.
I fear a winnowing, withal a harsh hazard of gorge and sate.
I fret for the freshly delivered, the teeming,
the newly produced, all the bounding bounty
for those too easily found and so, arrived too late.
Categories:
whelm, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
I don’t have a blueprint,
just this smudged version
of what she would look like,
an impression in a shop windowpane,
just as the light catches her in mid-thought.
To recreate, I must fillet an idea until
it is just a pulse, a blood surge,
a milky image of smoke;
I must work on her from the inside,
teasing out strands of mutual desire
from slim neck bones
and a tidal whelm.
My hands are palms outward and kneading;
a kind of questioning masturbation -
that is the gentlest way
to daub such imaginings into prayer.
Maybe I could chafe that conceit, like fresh
Virginia leaf between my fingers,
dunk her in a glass of Folonari Valpolicella
then place the wad between my gums,
chawing on it until she takes shape in my mouth.
No need to ever take her out,
she will disappear soon enough
into a space reserved only
for dwindling morning stars.
Perhaps she will suicide
on high-tension wires. An electricity
flaring her into a wind-blown gawkish appearance.
The sculptor in me leaves a fatal wink in this ideal,
one that will metamorphose into something
too fair for my skin-leaching hands,
too transient for still-life.
Then, when all is said and done,
she will simply remain this poem,
an on-going motif,
one that will surprise me again and again,
as I glimpse her once more
through a forever blurred shop window.
Categories:
whelm, poetry,
Form:
Blank verse
Spaceward: genesis, obedience, fathomless: universe.
In Cerulean: lambent, sullen, discernible: Close ignite.
With harmony: hypaethral, skyward, aether: womb hiccups
Whelm time: serenade, stardust, drizzles: diamond dust,
Overall trends: extinguish, slumber, wonder: celestial hymn,
By extolling: Argyle, twinkle, soothing: miraculous rule
Alabaster Gypsum: portholes, peering, ogling: rain glints
Rubicund Jocund: ventral, sheqalim, vivid: lured stars
Exalt air: Blistering, bleeding, molting: Corolla collide
Orotund Moire: Kaleidoscopic, sentient, dusk: carnal life
Grab fistful: Dripping, purple, precipitation: Sunburnt sky
Dodging Venus: Flytrap, ill-wishers, pyramids: Shift astern.
This variation on sonnet XL1 to illustrate what Kuhlmann intended .
kuhlmann is a verse poem of two phrases interspered with three related monosyllabic stem- words(nouns,adjectives )with an integral title.The label and form is derived from the baroque poet Quirinus Kuhlmann's 50 sonnet
form Love-kiss XLI
Poem inspired by the sonnet penned by Brian Stand
Categories:
whelm, analogy, appreciation, sky, stars,
Form:
Sonnet
Written: September 24, 2023
___________________________________________________________
Beneath the dome of radiant skies,
A realm of dreams before my eyes,
Where rainbows dance and colors blend,
A mystic charm that will transcend.
A rose blooms in the heart of this realm.
Its buds are brittle, with an innate whelm.
Each petal holds a secret prayer,
Whispered softly in the fragrant air.
Pray, oh divine, grant me the sight,
To foresee beyond the veil of night.
In this realm, where dreams bear flight,
Where love and hope ignite,
I yearn to glimpse the hidden truth,
To unravel the mysteries of my youth.
Beneath the dome of radiant skies,
Where magic and wonder never dies,
I search for the answers that lie within,
The wisdom that will cleanse my sin.
I wander through this enchanted land,
Guided by the touch of a loving hand.
In this realm of beauty and grace,
I find serenity in every embrace.
Colors of the rainbow shine so bright,
A tapestry of love and pure delight.
The vibrant hues of nature's art,
Entrancing melodies that touch the heart.
Beneath the dome of radiant skies,
A realm where my soul forever lies.
Categories:
whelm, analogy, appreciation, rainbow, sky,
Form:
Rhyme
Ill-fated crowds neath unchained clouds: the Silent City braved
against a sudden flashing flood, unleashing lashing waves,
which stripped its stony structures, blown with neutron bursts that laved.
Its barren streets, although effete, resound of yesterday
with chit-chat words no longer heard (though having much to say)
since teeming life (at one time, rife), surceased and slipped away.
Within its walls? Whist buildings, tall... Outside the City? Dunes,
which limn its frail forgotten tales, in weird unworldly runes
with symbols strung like halos hung in lifeless, limp festoons.
Above! The dismal ditch of dusk reveals a velvet streak,
through which the winter’s wicked winds will sometimes weave and sneak,
and faraway a cable sways, a bridge clings hushed and bleak.
Thin shadows shift, like silver shafts, throughout the doomed domain
reflecting white, wee wisps of light in ebon beads of bane
which cast a crooked smile across a faceless windowpane.
Wan neon lights glow through the nights, through darkness sleek as slate,
while lanterns (hovered, high above, in silent swinging gait),
whelm ballrooms, bars, bereft bazaars, though no one’s left to fete.
Death's silhouettes show no regrets, 'twixt twilight’s ashen shrouds,
oblivious she always was to cries in dying crowds –
in foggy neap the spirits creep beyond the mushroom clouds.
No ghosts of ones with jagged tongues will sing a silent psalm
nor haunt pale lips with languid quips to pierce the deathly calm,
nor yet redress the emptiness that shifting shades embalm.
Continued in part 2
Categories:
whelm, angst, life, war,
Form:
Rhyme
If death ends all we see
in Nature’s laws—
to be, or not to be,
with no applause—
and seas of troubles flee
when life withdraws,
then how we choose to plumb
the waters deep…
or whether dreams may come
in final sleep
need never foil
our glee of fancy free…
though mortal coil
may give us pause…
But what if there be more
than what we know—
a door beyond the door
to come and go?
What further living dream
may round us form,
in endless norm,
that carelessly we cause,
and doth existing seem,
must give us pause…
an independent and
dependent clause
of consequential strand
must give us pause…
another cosmic clime
in timeless time,
a stream of conscious I’m
in reasoned rhyme
that carries all our flaws
must give us pause…
who’ll snatch us from the jaws
of slated fate—
that we create…
then vainly grasp at straws—
must give us pause…
For should we risk perchance
to miss the mark,
but dizzily to dance…
what dream of dark
in coverlet of gauze
may whelm our dying pause,
and pierce with karmic claws…
to make us heed
in thought, in word, in deed,
indeed,
must give us pause…
must give us pause…
must give us pause…
~ Harley White
Categories:
whelm, death, deep, dream, imagination,
Form:
Verse
**ABC FUN**
Funny vs' Rude~~
agrestic bugaboo creeps, dandle
'each-
other', footle gleeking,
happy, izzat...jillick, kibitz, ludic,
maffick, nothosonomia,
osculating, proudly, quizzing, riant,
squabash,
to unstable void, whelm, Xanthippe,
yodle, zingy.
*
Dark Death~~
aphotic burnt cardinal debris
everywhere, flammeous,
growing haematic, igniting,
jeopardizing, killing, lava,
madness, numb, 'Oppositional-
Defiant',
pulse, quantity,
rage, staged, tempered, under,
virescent, watch, ***, yield, zero.
*
Dream a little Dream~~
Accelerator, beating, captivating
dreaming, eruption,
fingerprints, ghost haunting,
invading,
journey,
'keebler-keeper', labyrinth, magic,
nightmare, odyssey,
path, quarantine, rainbows, snakes,
'tossing&turnning',
unconsciously, vertigo,
'wakening2wetness', x-rated,
yawning,
zoomed.
*
Dedicated and inspired by; Yasmin
Khan
By;pd
Categories:
whelm, adventure, funny,
Form:
ABC
I whewed unto myself
I whewed unto who cares to listen
I screeched unto them
I warbled unto all
She is a beauty to behold
But beyond beauty
My dear country is suffering
She is suffering from . . . megalomania
My expected willing whee
Became my unexpected unwilling wheel
To which I wee unwillingly
At the sight of the whittle
Whence forth is my whet to Whelm
My willingness to willingly will my will
To my beauty beholding beyond beauty
My dear country is
She is . . . stealthy coquettish.
Alayande Stephen .T
26th September, 2005
2.45pm
NB-Conceptualised for Nigeria's 45 years
Independence Anniversary.
Categories:
whelm, anniversary, lost love, people,
Form:
Rhyme
With heaping speed like the flash
Am ah make a dash
My bed calls, dive in... splashhh
It was an honor and a pleasure
Poetry writers you'll so clever
Poetrysoup had me in a spell
O! well, farewell...
Goodnight ya'll
Catch you on the rebound
Tomorrow then, sleep well
o·ver·whelm·ing zzzzz-ing song
yeah...my bed Call!
©Copyright January 22, 2012 by Brian Pierre-Alexander
© All Rights Reserved
Categories:
whelm, funny,
Form:
Limerick
The flowers arrives just in time
The fresh roses and jasmines
It’s the last of the decorations
As the guest starts coming in
The tables sets for 100 guest
With a menu place at each seat
Which list all of the foods?
That they are going to eat
And At the dance floor
Have hanging roses coming down
With white ,pink and purple ribbons
And jasmines in a circle all around
My cousin ousman is the DJ
Playing romantic love songs
In his hands a sips a Carib beer
Then puts it down
Dresses of all colors
But only the bride will wear white
She is getting dress in her room
For her special day and night
She puts on her wedding dress
A bead of sweat rolls down her nose
She’s excited and so nervous
Her trembling lips red like a rose
Her black curly hair is all done
As a little bit of girl’s laughter fills the room
The final touches of her make up
And the fragrance of ultraviolet perfume
The happiness on her face is glowing
It comes out in every word that she says
And the love in her heart of knowing
With joy she heads to her wedding day
From The moment I saw her
It was love at first sight
And when I propose and she said yes
All my wishes came true that night
She is the destiny of all on my dreams
The one I will lay down my life for
The one and only one
That I will love forever more
And I know she was created in heaven
And today she is going to be my bride
I know I will cry when we say “I do
Unable to keep my emotions inside
She’s walking gracefully down the isle
Every one turns to look at her in the room
I am the luckiest man in the world
Because she’s my bride and I’m her groom
And When I put the ring on her finger
I was completely over whelm with love
And why she chose me to share her life
Is a mystery that can never be solve
And when the wedding bells rang
We kiss and hug each other tight
And Pink, white and purple balloons
And the white doves were in flight
I will cherish every moment that comes
Love her and make her happy in everyway
Make our happy home a castle
And treat her like a queen every day
This is my wife, my life, my reason to live
And I love her more than words can say
And today our two hearts beats as one
In the holy matrimony of our wedding day
Categories:
whelm, life, love, wedding, ,
Form:
Light Verse