Cajoled Poems | Examples

Price of Perfection

The price of perfection,
And the recent deduction,
To keep up the function,
And become a swan,
To show a sanction,
Have dedication,
To the craft of perfection,
And the show of intention,
Following the row,
And strengthen the bow,
To keep up the fact,
To disarm the pact,
And keep the show,
To what you already know,
To remember that the price,
Is in suffice,
To show what you do,
And be someone new,
To grow and unfold,
To keep it inside,
To keep a line,
And toss the dime,
To follow perfection,
To be someone new,
To cast away the old untold,
And we are cajoled,
Is the price of perfection.

Trump's Wild Tango

One step back, two steps forward,
Swing around and do the dance,
Keep it fast, a little awkward
A whole world audience to entrance.

Now you've got them captivated
Up the tempo, raise the heat,
Some may need to be sedated
As they wither from your beat.

Hearts loud-pounding, foreheads thumping,
Gasping air among the shouts,
Doomsayers bleating, markets jumping,
Second guessing, full of doubts.

Quite the showman, what a show,
Media breathless wanting more,
Fans elated, bask in tow,
Others crowing, keeping score.

Just the start, watch him work,
Revelations by the day,
Not all true, surprises lurk,
Act with haste, keep foes at bay.

As for us enthralled spectators
Barely able to keep track,
Cajoled and pressed by paid narrators,
Every week a heart attack.

If we can but drown the chatter,
Keep a cool head, crack a smile,
Train our thoughts to things that matter,
Take the long view, wait a while.

Let the music work its magic,
His gyrations entertain,
Learn that life need not be tragic,
See the sunshine through the rain.

RAI 5/25

Bliss bath

From deep within, we feel bliss rapture rise,
too fleet footed to be tracked by our mind,
so leaving imagined knowing behind,
we feel each breath as first rays of sunrise.
Poised in peace in the cave behind our eyes,
entwined with vibrant heart, loving and kind,
God’s grace releasing us from desire’s bind,
whence soul’s light shines and wayward ego dies.

Recognition of Self, sets our soul free,
requiring but our eye to be single,
that beholding ourselves as living light,
we dance breath by breath, joyous and carefree,
cajoled by bliss pheromones that tingle,
bestowing upon us, gift of clear sight.

I dont want to

I used to make up excuses
I would have a funeral, a wedding, a cruise, something
Whenever I did not want to do something

I would get coaxed and cajoled, and sometimes would give in
Despising my inability to say no to these interlopers
Wishing I was brave enough to tell them the truth

I have either gotten senile or wiser with my new age
Not sure which
But now I have one answer
And it works
And no one coaxes me or cajoles me

I say “I don’t want to”
It is the perfect reply

Four is Super Confident

We coddled and coaxed
Cajoled and cuddled
Caressed and calmed
Candy would not budge

We encouraged and enthused
Attempted to inspire and excite
Candy smiled
But refused to comply

We teased and tormented
Attempting to train her our way
Candy laughed and skipped away
Super confident at age four.

Late to the Airport

My sister almost missed her flight,
But made it by a hair.
An accident and traffic
Slowed her down from getting there.

It made me think of years ago,
When you could reach your gate
Just minutes from the takeoff 
And it wouldn’t be too late.

No TSA, no pat-downs,
Friends and family by your side;
With shoes and belts and jackets on,
You took things in your stride.

One memory stands out when we
Were late and we were told
Our seats were gone but we could fly,
If we could be cajoled 

To fly first class. How much? we asked.
Oh, there’s no extra charge.
We laughed and so enjoyed that flight,
A taste of living large.

Zen mode

deadlines pass
they are not ours
although they seem
to be meant for us
which if it be so
we will be cajoled
to perform the tasks
as has been ordained 
so we live in the moment 
without any agenda
in accordance with
the will of God

in case

dawn has cajoled herself awake
anticipating the first surfer on the beach
she is determined to make it the best day
in case there is a shark in the water

I fled

No trepidation or fear 
Of want or rejection 
Could hinder my 
Escape from your
Clouded vision 
I am weary of
Your daunting
Heartless ways
Once the pitter
Patter of your steps
Tandemly danced with
My heartbeats of love
Now tears rain where
Sunbeams once rose
Seeking the stars
A cajoled existence 
I fled

In Search of Rainbow

Vivid and vibrant was my dreams’ canvas, 
O balmy breeze when ye waft to the shore, 
Pray, open up fully my heart’s closed door, 
That, I could see my rainbow as it was, 
Not just flicker for a fleeting moment, 
To recede soon as to fade from mind’s eye. 
Keen for a glimpse, I gaze at blue blank sky 
Till I lose all its gold that once was dreamt, 
And muted gets my ever mourning heart, 
Void of voice, subdued dull its every string, 
Which, even when cajoled as ere to sing,  
It just gives me a jaded wailing start. 
O thou hast music made with every note, 
Give me my octave’s range, let music float!
______________________________________ 
Musings | 06.02.2014, revised Jan 2024| 

Poet’s note: A dreamer who dreams in the vibrant colours of a rainbow, all its range, has lost them. And he is now lost in the memory of its faded rainbow that comes to his memory as a melody in bits and pieces as seven notes of an octave, but never in a full range. In Search Of Rainbow's Range, the poet laments: O give my rainbow its range.

Zen mode

concepts suggest preferences
but the truth is unapologetic
manifesting within form
magnetic electricity
which we receive
with gratitude 
and yet
our identity
is disconcerted
at the transmutation 
and so ego creates a ripple 
recognised, cajoled, sublimated
to align its stirrings with divine will

The Catch

Encouraged by hefty gusts    from wind,
Maple swept    his wide reaching branches,
ensnaring half moon    in the wooded tangles    of his arms.

Then heeding wind’s    whispered advice
he teased and cajoled    hapless moon  
   into shaking    her silver dust    down and all about
   to glimmer wrap    himself
   to dust    his dreary coat    of bark
   with tinseled    silver shine.

All the while    thinking to himself,        
I really do prefer gold.

Children's Favourite

Ice Cream Limerick Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin
Placed 3rd
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Do not eat it when you have cough and cold,
In every home we are told by the old!
As children we think they are mad;
When they were kids many they had.
We feel sorry for now being cajoled!!

The Stories That Flow When Not Thinking

"The Stories that Flow when Not Thinking" 

Collaboration 
in the corner 
with poets 
and lovers

well hidden
in the noise
of words 
not said 

mouths are 
moving
not 
speaking 

minds 
watch on 
watching 
stories 

unravel 

at the party
lines are drawn
the watcher 
watches on

reads 
between choices, 

flowers 
plucked from walls 
freshly bending
inwards

where mouths
don’t speak at all 

minds 
plant another
language hypnotic
in bodies moving

Munch music 
magnetised 

the stories
that flow 
when open
and not thinking 

gardens tenderley
cajoled, tendered,
their Picasso Blues
heard

the gardener 
like a 
Chatterley 
lover, 

with no tongue
watches on


(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)

Not Always Gold

It should not often be Gold
That man should be glad to hold:
Lots more before they are old,
Over them happy palms fold:
Their wives battling with cold
Plus kids that love stories told,
Which stories would life remold
Many of them Divine Scold…

It should not be just for Gold
That man might choose to be bold:
A sinner should be cajoled,
Woman who’s made her man cuckold…

I have a sound idea sold
And for you some ball rolled…

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