Expediency Poems | Examples

kiss from angels on high

A pink blotch on her forehead
It was left by angels dear
Kisses from her benefactors
Insuring she’d arrive safely hear
Is that a birthmark? Many said
Kiss from angels on high, said Fred
He was her older brother
Shared a dad, but not a mother
Still. he knew his sister immediately
He was her caretaker and protector with expediency

another abcedarian for fun

all automatic alligators arrive arrogantly
barely behave beautifully but brazenly
carousing with creepy cruddy crocodiles
desperately denying despicable wiles
effectively expediting expediency
forever forsaking fruit flies who flee
glaring at grazing gritty grouses
hijacking horrific herbivore’s handy houses
igniting ingenious iguanas in I-o-Way
jubilantly joining jerky jaguars along the way
kibitzing kinesthetic killers from Zion
lollygagging like lively luxurious mountain lions
marvelously marking multitude of mini monkeys
notoriously noting nefarious nodules of displease
ostentatiously opening overt outages in Oregon
providing panda putrid prey Paul just spit on
quarrelsome quicksand quail
rapidly reading registered mail
saying sassing sentences swiftly
turning terrific tarantulas toenails thickly
utilizing underwater undercurrents down under
verifying valid villans' voluptuous plunder
with wild willingness and witchy wonder
‘xacting ‘xactly ‘xtreme ‘xestentialism supreme
yelling youngster’s yips on front of the queen
zinging zealous zealots into zebras galore
end of this abcedarian poem, there is no more.

Writing

I try to be humble
when it comes to evaluating poetry,
reminding myself, that my penned gems
may seem paste to others – addicted
to cuneiform glitter, my mining deeply within
our shared reality tunnels sometimes left mere holes 
for better landscapers forced to fill in – the dirt
I scatter to the surface,
the rocks, thousands of years' old boulders
pulverized for dear expediency, justifying actions by
use of strong verbs and a lot of campie adjectives – 
the new normal, I am told, nouns are fluid...
I guess, the rain piss, and the sun an insidious thirst
for those shunning government sanctioned kool-aid
to drink, like myself, finding shelter in the holes we
have dug for self and others, calling them natural
abodes, or bypass for an earth
desperately in need of new moral 
arteries – Well...having belittled who
I am and what I do, for me, my pen yet lingers
a rod and staff of sorts, a pacifier habitually in search
of divine nipples....

Madder Than the Other Hatters

There was much chatter about the new mad hatter
He is madder than the other, said my sister and brother
I want to meet him, I told them, intrigued by the new him.
He was a bit crazier than expected, nutty as suspected, on a whim.

How else would he have met the council’s approval? I said.
He was upside down backwards weird, named himself Odd Ted.
He could run for mayor of crazy town, I suggested immediately.
It was agreed upon unanimously, and delivered with expediency.

For if there is one thing we know about our delightful city, Crazy Town, 
It’s undeniably the weirdest, zaniest place under, over, above or down.
Mad hatter turned down our offer to make him mayor and ran away.
The sixth crazy mad hatter mayor that had gotten away that day.

Beneath Life

Constrained by the sober exercise of judgment,
And dignified by deliberation and privacy.
I yanked my soul out of its secret chamber, 
And held it to the mirror of my eye.

To see it like a star or moon against the sky, 
But it dwindled to alarmingly small dimensions.
Fate had turned and twisted a thousand ways,
From the standpoint of expediency.

Fumbling and stumbling in helpless incapacity,
I'm greeted with an alloyed chagrin and gloom.
Then I heard a wordless voice,
In language terse yet familiar.

It wasn't a loose and otiose statement,
Unaccustomed tears threatened my seared vision,
I'm overshadowed by a fretful anxiety,
By this innocuous thought, I'm skulking beneath life.

But if I shine brighter in life,
Reexamine fate, destiny and my artistic aptitude,
If I fail, die and remain forgotten,
Study the agonies of my conscious failure,
And remember me with this poem.

The Last Acorn

How mighty did she stand
 tall and regal, stately on the land
within her branches stretched
 a view along the earth's great edge
in the curve unseen lay God the architect;
 but life itself is dealt within shadowed joy and tears
and the girth and sinew of more than two hundred years
 birthed young saplings from the profusion of acorn seeds;
that acorn grows to saturate an earth that bleeds
 bound tight, secure and snug 
beneath the coverlet of earthen rugs
 renewed and replenishing the gifts of life
burdened with the memories of old man winter's wife
 who embellished the forests of day and night
but polluted rivers, mountains, seas- the creations of humanity
 dwindle regrowth and its expediency
until surprise and recognition at last falls
 the last acorn of time's concrete walls.

Febrile Fantasies

Forgo friendships built on sand dunes
Scattered in the desert of expediency
Driven by greed and ceaseless searches for fortunes
Flying in air balloons of inefficiency. 

Forgo fantasies caught up in streams of nonsense
Cajoled in monsoons of short-termism
Driven by myopia and a seasoning of offence
Regurgitated with aplomb to neutralize feminism.

Forgo dreams of grandeur granted a status
Commensurate with duplicity and paucity
Of ideas and ideals in a sea of hiatus
Longing to break free of opacity.

Forgo attachments fastened to fragility
Expressed in tones sugar-coated 
To energize and incentivize febrility
In friendships deemed overrated.

Plain Talk--Not

I view it as unseemly to use high-sounding language to make an impression.
I perceive it to be ostentatious to  marshal words vainglorious in succession.

It is a determinant of consternation, if not constipation, to be so assaulted.
Obsessive practitioners of linguistic pomposity presume they are self-exalted.

Whom [note proper objective case usage] do they fathom they are deceiving?
Do they inaugurate imaginations veined by vanity that I am them believing?

I desire a day when poets dispossess themselves of verbiage of pretension
And with exemplary expediency abandon exotic words they need not mention.

Poets aspiring to perfection should endorse this humble verse unreservedly,
Or have their word-overworked works consigned to anonymity deservedly.

Gamblers and Mourners 'Round the World

The gamblers and the mourners
Explore the vagaries of fate,
The expediency of life
Dangling in the capitol rotunda
Like a hanged man
His hair standing on end,
His boots in the air.

Write, sing, boo,
Do what you will
Never mind the outcome.
Words are cheap, they said,
But they knew better.
The price was dust--
Gold dust, that is--
By the ounce.  Enough.
Enough.

Swinging from that bough,
Rope rubbing the bark raw:
It was a tree in that rotunda,
Where they hung them high.
Crows roost there at night.
Monkeys swing by day.
The crows fly away.
The monkeys take flight.
Women come and go,
Taking the sight.

Evening is still 
Outside where the grass grows.
Obsidian crutches punch the ground.
Eagles fly where they please.
They do not fly near the tree.
Effervescent truly,
Shards unruly,
Dying away like rumblings,
Trains at the station
Puff and wait, puff and wait. 
They pull like many horses.

Over in Scotland,
Inverness is halted.
The city is slow,
The soul of the yard.
Fruit ripens all golden 
Everything rotten,
Lies on the ground.
Shuffle the deck and draw water
Encamped on the trail.

Micro-Feasting

Micro-Feasting
                          by Odin Roark

To propagate the dung heap of ignorance,
Is to place on low simmer
A main course of illiteracy.

How festive the chefs of mental starvation
Make the tables of 140-character-feasting,
Luring the gullible
Along with the lazy,
The doltish
And the lost,
To gorge, then purge,
Then ignore the noxious vapor
Of sentience becoming residue waste.

So stirs this caldron of abbreviated ingredients,
Stifling taste buds for savoring delectable elocution,
Reducing vocabulary to bulimic shorthand
And expecting all to join this achromatic work-around.

Hopefully, the language of full syllabic enunciation
Will return with a vengeance,
Sending expression’s drive-by expediency
Into its all too deserving exile.

Consideration pauses in the distance.
One can hear the echoes of dismay,
“Does this mean we’re expected to read…
AGAIN?

The New Bypass

Clinging to sunny Bognors regal
skirts
At his Majesties most royal verges
The readied hand thrusts upon the 
lever,
And, shuddering, She forward lurches.

Clanking ominously over diesel fueled
growls,
Expediency, they said, was driven 
to ignore:
The raised up objections and anguished
frowns,
And track them under tracked-over 
ground.

For by unanimous vote they did smugly
decide,
Albeit tales of backhanders hotly denied,
That poor clymping Parish could no longer
abide
The daily through fare of the popular ride.

So when you next travel upon the new 
Bypass
Think of the local residents you no longer
harass;
Dwell on the advantages you formerly 
decried,
Whilst ripping through the greenbelt
to the jolly seaside.

Think of their tearooms, and the little
stone bridge,
Think of the old fort just beyond the sharp
ridge;
Think of their gift shops decked out with 
festoons,
With bright little trinkets, plates and silver
spoons.

For over and beyond the ancient on-looking
hills
Creeps an old warming wind that carefully
steals:
To gently gather up the wretched mechanical
sounds -
And bear them away above the pale, distant
Downs!

Expediency

Elaborate the plan
Enticing by pretence
Exclusive in deceit
Extols hypocrisy.
Each step has been rehearsed
Except for masquerade
Excessively disguised.


--------------------------------

Author: Paul Callus ~ 27 April 2014
Contest: Let’s Pleiades
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
Placing: 7th

Illegal Dying

Illegal Dying


On pursuit of greed
On pursuit of fame-
Gambling with precious life
Is no longer funny play.
We don’t guard ourselves
Marmon broke all bounds
Greed, flood gates opened
There’s a deluge
That inundates humanity.
We’re bait in water
Thrown by bungee jump
Into the deeper end
To bait wealth
With a piece meal
From our gullible hearts.	
At breakneck speed 
We travel, we pine
Barriers on the fiery way
Crumble under foot
That plods with might
Pulverising conscience
Under its deadly stride.
Expediency and experiment
Replace care and kindness
Egotism and hubris
Is a reflection on the mirror
To which we smile
Gloat and graciously spruce
With drab appetite.
We look to another
With an eye that talks
Questioning neighbour
How the hell he did it...
We don’t compliment
We enjoy commiserating
Dirges are our sweet songs
That titillates our hearts
Hymns are a discord
That is so insufferable.
Compassion out of windows
Is flung like a thief-
With a thud it lands 
And held hostage 
By angels of uncertainty.

JM

19th Nov’ 2013

Dickens Phrasis -Recited

LEISURE FROM LISTFULNESS
A long & dreary time,exquisite
delight has passed.A perverse
unaccountable feeling.A moment’s
reflection,a store of recollections
a painful task to concentrate upon.
Questions come thronging my pen,
difficult to convey,a matter of doubtful
expediency,leisure from listfulness,
dreamy,beautiful,inconsistent,reflective.
Passion and affections a mute sense of 
attachment,yet gratifying. The end of a struggle
From Letters of Charles Dickens

A Phrasis is a structured verse where the poet uses selected prose phrases of another writer’s(not a poet)  to compile  unique poetry therefrom as a tribute thereto,the word phrasis is Greek for phrase.

Listen to me read this phrasis on youtube under name of ichthyschiro

Free Cee I Curse Her Universe

I CURSE HER UNIVERSE!

Uh-oh!  She’s not going to like me
The lady as fair as any flower
She’s going to treat me with an iron hand
Because the wields  holds all the power

Don’t you hate *****es like that?
Lascivious Ladies whose sole concern is control
A hand of iron, a heart of steel
I know just how she will view me
Just “one of them”
And she uses the term “them” 
As if to italicize the fact that she is not one of “them”
But, according to her, 
I will be an honorary member of “them”
You know
Not like her
We, or her “them,” live in a different universe than her
A galaxy vs. a  constellation
She’s glowing like a fiery orb whose orbit is as yet undetermined 

So I need seek shelter with expediency
Because I’m certain part of her comet will strike me
I will be the focus of negativity in her universe
Because rest assured, she will not like me
      © 2012….copyright..PHREEPOETRY..~free cee!~

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