Congenial Poems | Examples

Ode To Reuben

When I met him, he was hungry and homeless.
Rumor had it that he once played basketball
for the infamous Harlem Globe Trotters.

Three traits that I observed in him would
have proven great for any area of endeavor.
Reuben was bold, persistent, and congenial.

His BOLDNESS did not render him arrogant or rude.
Although our first encounter was eye opening
when he suggested his own breakfast menu,
I found it to be nonthreatening but humorous.

When he continued to drop in for a meal day
after day, his PERSISTANCE was dully noted,
making it difficult for him to go unnoticed.

In spite of his size, looks, and offensive odor,
Reuben was a very CONGENIAL person. He never
resisted or hesitated to conform and comply with
whatever was required of him. He always quietly
agreed, not because he was desirous of a meal,
but because he was simply a very genuine person.

Greet Me

Greet me
Spring sprite,
fresh docile smile;
Whose whispers woo
with hymns of lover's tune.

Enamor me
with fizzy phrases;
As doting night
enthralls, with stars,
the bashful moon.

Cove me
within bossom's veil 
of plusing 
neverending 
blazing charm.

Congenial hover,
like clouds do
to pacify and soothe 
the brassy, heated,
brazen sun.

Dreach
my dreams
with valiant gales
of furor baron
kisses gained.

Like Nature's gift of life,
revives plains' drought 
with cloudburst,
Heaven's 
inundating rain.

Covid

Covid

commiserate, conjugate
circumambulate around the 
circumference of the
continent
covertly circulate
in the crevices of 
confederates
cramped, crawling,
crooning in the
cavern of 
Copulates
we concurred
that the crisis
was going to confabulate
Covid closure
clamped and comorbid
into crass and crumpled
consternates
constipate crush
collapse and confiscate
curious conjugates
carelessly canned
into cisterns of
congenial but classless
contaminate.

i cannot continue
to calculate
the cost of our
confusion.

Why Is The Sky Blue? Asked Jimmy

Why is the sky blue? Asked Jimmy 
Fantastic question!
Why indeed?
Why did The Creator
Whether God or Science or a Scientific God 
Choose blue
Instead of forest green, pale yellow, or maroon?
Is it because the day seems cheerier
The world brighter
The people friendlier
Due to the color overhead?
A Mount Everest of evidence shows
Humans are happier 
Outside 
Under the blue.
So, why do we equate blue with sadness?
Certainly, blueberries are one of the most congenial of the berries
And Superman always dazzles in blue.
However, I suppose not all blues are the same.
Midnight blue is complex in color and to contemplate.
Almost all have gazed hypnotically into its majestic fluidity.
Many onlookers discovered hidden inspiration and birth.
But, some couldn’t see past darkness and conclusion.
Blue, sky blue, and midnight blue
Among those shades lies many lessons 
Including the fragility of stereotypes and prejudice.
What’s that Jimmy?
You only need an explanation to relay to science class?
Oh.
Sky color derives from air molecules and wavelengths of sunlight. 
Is that the answer you’re seeking son?

Eternity

The whirlwind of time drifts my soul 
from life rooted transient in the present
to the distant desolate nowhere  
where I was once, but left forever.
That’s the fading past receding fast,
yet to be abandoned and obliterated. 

Out of the shadow of perennial future, 
creating the convivial flood of copious love, 
time cascades to inundate 
the lavish landscape of life sculpted 
in my mind where dwells the desire of perpetuity, 
the deathless dream, eternity.

The entrancing memory undying,
subsists in the restive recess of the past, 
as my enticed  bird soars 
in the fleeting firmament of the present,
spreading the dreaming wings to embrace
the halcyon horizon of the future.

With the imperishable soul,
afloat in the sublime sea of timelessness,
wafted  by the congenial longing wind, 
I’m on the sanguine sail,
yearning to get from time's magnanimity,
the surreal gift, eternity.

Its a Scream

Ice cream and jelly, with a punch in the belly.'
Is what some in Britain Abhor.' Boris is in
Trouble, he blew too big a bubble, where he
And others did abide.' There is agony and much
Beration by the media of the Nation about who
May well have lied..? Er I mean died.' Yet i find no
Contention. On arms shipments and war intentions?
From any who, debate or decry ' about lockdowns
Such shockowns while B L M protests spread wide
How can he be so wrong? Yet also right? For so-long
While his sucessors continue in that war like stride.'
What of the elders, in throes of dementia? or now the Myocarditis high tide ' if he's wrong in his house party's
Though we are not all smarties ' surely history will itself
Truth decide.' Is there poison abounding? in congenial
Surroundings? Addicted to rampant turpitide ? How sick
Are 'lost leaders?' Who took their nation blindfolded on
A fear churning ride.? Forget ice cream with jelly and great
Bloated bellies.' Smile and turn well aside ' make no talk
Of sound reason, rejoice in silly season April fools days
And santioned genocide.?

Stalled Time

The wheel of time carries my soul away
from the life rooted in the present
to the distant desolate land  
where I was once, but left forever,
that’s the fading past receding fast,
yet to be abandoned and obliterated. 

Lying in the shadow of the perennial future, 
creating the convivial flood of copious love, 
that time carries on its cascade to inundate 
the lavish landscape of life sculpted 
in my mind where dwells the desire of perpetuity, 
the deathless dream…immortality.

I like to see the entrancing memory undying,
subsist in the discarded recess of the past,
for the soaring bird of my love 
flies in the sky of my present,
spreading the dreaming wings to embrace
the halcyon horizon of the future.

While I drift with the imperishable soul,
floating in the sublime sea of eternity,
and with the congenial wind of love, 
blowing on the sanguine sail,
I yearn to get from the stalled time's magnanimity,
the surreal gift…immortality.

_______________

December 21, 2022
For A Brian Strand Premiere Choice No 55 Contest

Happy Camper

HAPPY   CAMPER


 
Cultivation of thought with in the heart 
That has been seeding in the soul 
Journey of the bare mind state
Agitated, while the lifeline is Un whole.
Designing the stream of desires goal.

As time fly's for what is untold 
Digging deepest heart of the intellect's gold.
Unwrapping mystery what has been fold.

Following the cycle, revival of the wounded existence.
Up in the hill taking your consciousness talking of its presence.
Persistence of scintillating essence.


Foundation of your livelihood under pressure and pain
Foolishness of awareness for the manhood
Maness and madness laconic repressor of the chain

Disdain oneness, openness of choice 
Brain damaged, flawless lack to entertain 

Humiliation abashed the self-concept
Simulation of nature without any intent.
Here and there Notion of right or wrong.
Congenial sound of the soul's freedom song. 

Beating in muscle like twitch vibration.
Happy camper for the melody of revelation.

[9/17/2022 7:48 PM]

A Brief Word On Punctuation In Poetry

Must we debate the virtues of a period
Or even a comma at the end of a line?
As poets we will do well to remember
Sometimes no punctuation, at all,
                                                is just fine!
Then there are those who use ellipses
Which mean nothing when and if, in fact,
The line which these little dots follow
Is completely devoid of the meaning
                                                it lacked!
A word on the absence of the semi-colon
So absolutely necessary in congenial prose,
But in poetry is almost never employed;
Absent in almost all poems, scarcely missed
                                                I suppose!

Written September 24, 2022

An Odorous Attitude

As time passes by, people pass through
In all walks of life and ways of behaving
Most are congenial, but I’ve noticed a few
Who, apparently, have an inane craving

For causing a ruckus whenever they can
For the life of me, I can’t figure out why
They enjoy riling, and getting out of hand
But, I am thankful they’re in short supply.

Their type explain why we always have war
[Oh, on a much smaller scale, to be sure]
These people who have a burr up their a***
And want to spread around their manure.

They seem invested in getting their way
Always expressing a different point of view
Being confrontive and oppositional, I’d say,
It appears they have nothing better to do.

I appreciate many diverse ways of thinking
Knowing my opinion isn’t always the best,
But when I discover my attitude is stinking
I try to back off, giving the situation a rest.

Written August 16, 2022 
[***the British pronounciation
rhymes, well almost!]

The Records of Every Summer

The Records of Every Summer
David J Walker

I thought the last cold day of May
Had come and gone 

50 feels like freezing when
100 was last Friday 

I thought I was the authentic gardener 
Who held each calendar day 
within an experienced heart

the halcyon mornings are a congenial neighbor
gracious and 
	     	 like-minded

but there is nothing to do except 
	      	bundle one more time 

assuming June will come as planned
		we can swim in
the warm air again
		
I have greeted each summers coming 
      	with passion

hoping each will in turn 
      	 remember me by name

there is a library
		with every record of
		every summer 
		I have lived

It’s near a river running through a town
Whose name I don’t remember

Pity
	My childhood is stored there
	All contained in a 
	Single Summers day

Its the Best

he was pouring at the happening and usually there is a fair amount of disdain for the enthusiasts 
who like to sidle up to sample the snacks, libations and what have you goodies.

he was a wisp of fair blond - a hippy kid.

he asked me if I would like him to crack my can of brew
I told him that this was not necessary

I looked at some stuff and listened to some other stuff
trying to maintain a bit of elbow room 
while the crowds swirled and yammered
 biding some time before refill and then I went back for another and he 
cracked this one for me and said "cheers"

I drank it down and went for a walk down the street
I did not want to appear to be too gluttonous so I gave it some minutes

when I resurfaced in the crowded room and foraged thru the groups back to my man
he smiled and said "I grabbed this one at the bottom so that its chilled and now it needs to be shotgunned".

I laughed and retorted with double thumbs up
Impressed that this cat accurately assessed my quench and provided a 
responsive and congenial atmosphere in one that can be rather unpleasant and clannish

my man had it
and I salute him for it
the damn hippy dippy 
had it

kindness

Endless Journey

If I were immortal,
the carriage of fleeting time 
can’t carry my soul away
from the adoring life in the present
to the distant realm of the past
where everything acquired 
gets abandoned in obscurity.  

Trailing the shadow of the future, 
creating the convivial flood of love, 
time carries on its flow to inundate 
the lavish landscape of life sculpted 
in my mind where dwells dormant
the perceptible desire of perpetuity, 
the deathless dream…immortality.

If I were immortal,
the entrancing memory won’t die,
subsisting enduringly in the present,
for the soaring bird of my love 
will fly in the infinite firmament, 
spreading the wings to embrace
the halcyon horizon of the future.

While I drift with the imperishable soul,
floating in the sublime sea of eternity,
and with the congenial wind of love, 
blowing on the sanguine sail of life,
set to embark on an endless journey,
I’ll get from the stalled time,
the surreal divine gift…immortality.

________________

April 23, 2022
Contest : If I Were Immortal
Sponsored by : Anoucheka Gangabissoon

One Saucer To Another

Saucer xx427P54 to Saucer xx37PR4
and two digits more – Earth again
Sabre Rattling its nukes: We've
seen this before, on other worlds
eventually reduced, to Radio Active
Pukes – Though an age-old way-station
for our alien species, when exploring,
or simply on vacation, should we
finally X-off this Tumultuous Turd?
Write across its sky, a large 4 letter
word, ending with “You” – telling
them they are globally through...

So hopeless the lot of them seem;
the opinion now of our entire Space
Team – Why bother to compel them
to stop? – maybe the Universe would
be far better off, if they were replaced 
with an artificial, more congenial 
galactic top....

A Tomb Without Walls

You begin your journey lonely beyond imagination - an emotional place I can barely begin to describe to the uninitiated.

Your body, primed by puberty, has these new, natural abilities - you develop these secret ambitions for yourself that push you hard.

You search for that someone. To use the technical term - you, “kiss a few frogs” - to fine tune the impossibly fragile internal instruments that detect the elusive, magical “it.”

You pretend you’ve simply struck up friendships, the girl and the boy. It can’t last, this state of congenial denial - there are too many unspoken pressures - the suspense weighs on you both.

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ps, I write short stories too

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