Best Whimsy Poems
AUTUMNAL WHIMSY
a late blooming few
rose leaves with mottled silver
autumnal whimsy
life forces in night skies
winds that howl in blue whimsy
gods blowing midnight stars about
stirring brews of celestial harmony
unrehearsed they swirl and whirl
churning turbulence in a vignette
perform their euphony of a ballet
volatile they cavort and pirouette
tossing around their glitter
spinning in a dance
wild commotion
in my mind
of curious
furious
fever
AP: 2nd place 2025
Submitted on June 2, 2020 for contest SPLASH sponsored by KAI MICHAEL NEUMANN - RANKED 1ST
Spring Whimsy
winter packs his trunk
full of icy fleece and flakes ~
going south for spring
spring unpacks her bags
rolls out green hills with poppies ~
mustard carpets glens
vernal daylight sighs
sheds a winter overcoat ~
nature somersaults
sassy daffodils
troubadours of the season ~
in the midst of snow
snowdrops and tulips
mingle with playful raindrops ~
hummingbirds return
spring teases tree buds
tickles robins and the wrens ~
jokes in cheeky fun
loons and larks arrive
mistral songs fill flaxen fields ~
forests swing and sway
coy clouds gather in
flirt with flashing thunderbolts ~
birds watch from warm nests
rain tumbles through skies
plays hide and seek with thunder ~
feisty blue bells stand
waxing springtime moon
paints rose petals platinum ~
neon night aglow
impish morning sun
winks at fields of red clover ~
spring born of whimsy
3-30-22
Contest: A Brian Strand Premiere Choice
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Grab that whimsey, don't wipe the blow.
The feeling, of fear, starts to grow
Creepy tendrils that dart around
In your head, they can't be bound
Unleash the power of your poetry,
That is what empowers the poet free.
Let it flow from heart to page,
And let your imagination rage.
Sunlight illuminates the abyss of my heart.
But gloom lurks, for betrayal shreds apart.
The simplicity that I used to consider dear.
Leaving me stranded and packed with fear.
An emptiness consumes my soul,
Yet an urge to write, to brand me whole,
To pour out my pain, my sorrow,
To find a glimmer of cheer for tomorrow.
My pen becomes my only friend,
As I strain to comprehend
The reasons behind the deceit,
The lies that brought me to defeat.
But in my words, I find a way,
To heal, to mend, carpe diem the day,
To rise above the welt and pain,
To find the light, to love again.
The valley of my heart may be scarred,
But with my pen, I can rebuild, discard
The darkness that once held me down,
And rise up, stronger, without a frown.
Stop resisting and start writing.
The pen is bleaker than the sword.
Each draw, each stroke, each sighting.
Unshackle the force of your words.
Classical infusion, Beethoven’s “ode to joy”
playing on blaring audiophile speakers annoy
purposely looped to destroy vagrants with electronic music
blends of subversive elements and anxious acoustic
the solution to loitering the bodega doo dropping
spicy Shiitake broth smelling pissy store front,
jaded daily stunt, at midnight wino corks popping
abruptly segway into a film from one music scene
to a melting hallway, a lipstick alley with animate occupants
disconnected unmoored, appearing eerie and dormant
fluorescent lights unleashing a hum buzz in duress
hissing sizzling hornets’ nest of unsettling unrest
illogical levels of unease, an iniquitous den
such madcap absurdity is beyond my ken
not a shack, mall, nor a Holiday Inn,
a queasy Quasi-Moto mood which lies within
backrooms filled in with discarded filets
of fishy maceral that have no place,
frolicking pixella's in a glossy abyss of liminal space
plump puce brushed lips affixed
swollen browns and purple mixed
deep maroon and dusky rose,
make-up art is what they pose
I wish I may I wish away what is unreal with blinky eyes
I pray not to awaken one more inky surreal surprise
Crescent shaped moon portions mounted in pseudo walls
mounted upon the glare in unpleasing patterned halls
side by side quagmired half discs dawning a contorted face
in a half dazed-half-moon crest loon’s invisible phase
not unconscious but in some in-between state
bored while in transition and abandoned as they await
whimsical moldings who see me try not to take a peek
an exit to this madness is what I and they seek
maybe re-evaluate my sleep number, for gravity defying rest
What insight imports this encounter and what test?
what it means for a doomed generation Xer or baby boomer,
tacked in stucco, Silly Putty it seems, in a warped sense of humor
I wish I may I wish away what is unreal with blinky eyes
I pray not to awaken one more inky surreal surprise
Written: December 11, 2024, for contest Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori
________________________________
When dusk strikes, the magic swirls,
In the grasp of dawn, a wispy heart twirls.
The shades waltz as a painter brush whirls,
In a vacuum night, dream faintly furls.
We whimsey we'd catch the rainbow past,
Ride the wind whispers in a peaceful blast.
Sail aboard ships of wonder over skies so vast,
Still, life's intricate yarn holds shadows cast.
With each glitter and moonbeam embrace,
Warm mutters soothe, eradicating the trace.
A crystalline elixir, hope unending grace,
In a chaotic world, I'll waltz amid the space.
So hear the moon croon, as the world feels right,
Through lilac and lavender, our hopes bear flight.
In the bittersweet dance of our love’s pure light,
We embrace the shades, and in time, we unite.
From periwinkle skies, where stars softly bite,
To obsidian hoops, in the gloom of the night.
The elixir of life offers sweet, gentle height,
And while sunrise glows, we dream in spite.
The crimson and green, in dawn’s golden light,
As hope drips from vials, crystalline and bright.
With each ebbing moment, pain feels contrite,
Yet dreams linger on, with a soft, tender bite.
So bless me, as the dawn’s light breaks,
With glimmers of hope that the dawn makes.
In every hue, from crimson to blue ice flakes,
A kaleidoscope of dreams, pure and slake.
From blue skies to lavender pillows,
I shall find my path home by shadows.
In this upholstery of wonderful bliss,
So bless me, bless me, with dawn kiss.
WHIMSY in the dictionary is a word
that’s often silly and absurd
it’s magical and conjures such delight
as bewitching as a nymph or sprite
it’s quirky zany delicately flimsy
the mere word WHIMSY
dancing across my lips
elevates my every mood snips
WHIMSY unbolts a drawer of bling
reaches in deep where everything
I can imagine longs to soar
enticing me ways to explore
WHIMSY tickles and wakes my muse
stirring up playfulness to amuse
it summons dainty faeries
and heavenly winged deities
my favorite word no doubt is WHIMSY
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Things Grow Legs
Sometimes, I swear, things grow legs
Recipes, scissors, car keys in place
But when I look they move away
To floors, newspaper piles – hiding spaces.
We almost hear them laugh, or sneer,
“Catch me if you can – over here.”
Out of sight, out of mind playing hide and seek,
Warmer – warmer they move again - with a leer.
They love to play this mischief game,
When time is of the essence,
Deadlines loom, minutes race –
Panic in our brains - a presence.
Where do all the lost things go,
Those hiding places we forget,
Where even burglars would not look,
As we send out a wide dragnet.
Then suddenly to our surprise,
They reappear before our eyes,
Laughing at our confusion-delusion
So pleased they try to drive us crazy.
Copyright 8-28-19
Whimsy was a humorous hen
She had neither paper nor pen
She flew to the moon
And fell on a toon
Rushed to hospital in a van
Whimsy was a humorous hen/Limerick Copyright (C) Rajat Kanti Chakrabarty
2014
Whimsy
Cunning, quick-witted
Driving, thrusting, liberating
Souls connection, awakening the self
effectuating, heeding, heading
staunch, steadfast
Realism
03/19/16
Diamante poetry contest
Contest judged: 10.21.16
First Place
3rd placer in another contest (May 15, 2016)
Poem of the Day ( March 20, 2016)
Featured on PS Homepage
as Poem of the Week (Marh 27, 2016)
Note: The poem is about reverie
grains of wet whimsy
collapse in cascades of froth...
summer memories
Carol is a crocodile with big long pointy teeth,
She likes to hide in lakes under the surface, just beneath.
She doesn’t want to bite your legs or eat you in one chew,
She only wants to sneak up close behind you and shout “Boo!”
Hairy Nora reads the Torah from daybreak until dusk.
She’s got four different colored legs, but not a single tusk.
There’s a birdie sitting on her back that moves and sways like Elvis,
Her ears are crinkly when they’re pressed and there’s a mirror on her pelvis.
Now I’ve been almost everywhere on my old rusty bike,
But an elephant like Nora, I have never seen the like.
“Alf it’s dinner time!” cried mum as she finished off the cooking.
“Where is that naughty boy?” she moaned, “I’d better go a-looking”
She looked across the lawn and he was nowhere to be seen.
He was hiding, lying in the grass because he is bright green.
Alf chuckled to himself because he never would be found,
But up crept mum and tapped his bum as he lay upon the ground.
“You didn’t see me coming!” said Alf’s mummy with a grin.
“I’m green too, you silly boy! Now come on, let’s go in.”
Cookie can cook recipes from a book,
She can rustle up meals in a flash.
She wears a chef’s hat even though she’s a cat
And she works in a restaurant for cash.
Once Chef Cookie cooked all the fish I had hooked
While out fishing with Oli one day.
She fried them in batter, served them up on a platter
And we scoffed them all up right away.