Long Perspicacious Poems
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In antediluvian times, so pluviophilian
Red and gold adorned the grandiloquent pavilion.
With circumlocution's mellifluous elocution
Yellow frankincense sparked a yuletide revolution.
Colors of Christmas idiosyncratic and bright
Symptomatic of joy a quintessential sight!
Black's defenestration led to white's sequestration
Blue myrrh, an epiphenomenon of celestial creation.
The floccinaucinihilipilification of green
An obfuscation of nature's loquacious sheen!
Colors of Christmas idiosyncratic and bright
Symptomatic of joy a quintessential sight!
Orange juxtaposition a kakistocracy of hue
Violet and indigo a perspicacious view.
Silver's mellifluous tone, never superfluous
In this chromatic prolegomenon, so wondrous!
Colors of Christmas idiosyncratic and bright
Symptomatic of joy a quintessential sight!
Nonplussed by colors we're rediscussed
This verisimilitude leaves us all nonplussed.
Recalcitrant shades concomitant with glee
A serendipitous fortuitous Christmas spree!
Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia aside.
(Fear not these long words let your aichmophobia subside!)
With tintinnabulation and confabulation
We revel in this spectrum's elucidation!
Colors of Christmas idiosyncratic and bright
Symptomatic of joy a quintessential sight!
From soliloquent red to audacious gold
Our multitude of colors both new and old.
This Christmas palette so efficacious
Renders our celebration truly vivacious.
Yet beyond these hues lies a gift profound
A child is born; in Him true light is found.
For unto us a child is born
Unto us a son is given
And his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor
Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
(Isaiah 9:6)
Perspire, poor perspicacious?
Tenacious at the quick?
Sanguine, solemn, sagacious?
Lost lighter wheel, fine flick?
Yes, and when the autumn rain:
Turns the place to mud:
Twister. Terrible terrain.
Coat shed. Drawn in blood.
Chairs black walnut, open backs.
In a circle rest.
Fine feather-cut, trains on tracks.
Ash and smoke, pour west.
O canopy of crimson!
Thy ladies fair sparks blow!
Diadem diamond, honey dun!
Hummingbird, fly low!
Marble top, mahogany.
Tables outward curve.
Tracing white as destiny.
Vilified the verve.
Iron spouts conical?
Fire bellows breathing in.
Candelabra, port and pall.
Triangles of tin.
Project beyond thy sockets!
Blue star-shaped ornaments!
Dark night shattered, fired rockets!
Soldiers out of tents!
Concentric, calm, chiral.
Two-sided, layered thick.
Videos gone viral.
Stump oak and hickory stick.
Ocie the Ocelot liked words a lot!
As a tot, words like dot and trot hit the spot
Then, getting older, the folder on her shoulder grew bolder
What was once handy stopped ringing so dandy
Craving vocabulary candy to bandy
She sought what she ought, to form lukewarm to hot
Mooshu, the emu guru, knew what to do
To bring notice and gain focus
Journey there, to the oracle's lair
The fortress of Morris the Thesaurus Tortoise
When she approached his door, saying, "I want more!"
His smile creased - he replied, "Your covet's increased!"
She confessed her distress at being a pest
But he said, "My dear, you're not stubborn - you're tenacious!
You're not merely aware - you're perspicacious!"
It's not only knowledge; it's proficiency, cognition, discernment
For ideas, impressions, concepts, brainstorming segments
Be bold, audacious, intrepid, resolute, gallant
Credit your capacity, flair, savvy, talent
Evade the cliche, the commonplace, the trite
Clamp on, lacerate, masticate, bite!
Hours freed, for her need to succeed
Then, at the end, one final creed to heed-
Don't fall a slave to the misbehaving knave
Sometimes, the simpler speech is the one to save.
3/4/19
Poem of the Day 3/06/19
To dream the impossible dream
To fight the unbeatable foe
To bear with unbearable sorrow
And to run where the brave dare not go
—Mitch Leigh/Joseph Darion (Lyrics “The Impossible Dream”)
TO READ THE IMPOSSIBLE READ
To read the impossible read.
To write with arthritic fingers.
To suffer the fate of the muse.
To refuse not to have courage.
To stride with ink into old ‘hood.
To ruminate with perspective.
To be perspicacious in cause.
To draw in air, less pretentious.
To touch blood-red threads of Christ’s hem.
To be healed - mind, body and soul.
To be bold, not scared nor craven.
To believe, touch the heart of God.
To be blinded by pearly gates.
To see Eden - new, glorified.
To behold born again apple.
To place your feet on streets of gold.
Are you a follower of trying to be Sagacious?
(A lone voice whispers)
Here's to you
The readers, writers and poets in whatever field
Always remember
Seeking further knowledge is a gift
It's how we all grow in whatever we do
So never yield and constantly look for more ways to lift
Even if it means entering the long hours into a lone graveyard shift
Keep searching like a metaphorical Indiana Jones or Lara Croft
For a treasure to help those who might be drifting in seas
Where hope seems not to exist
And who might just need something to darkness resist
Title:
Self-Knowledge
Do you believe in absorbing the esoteric linked to living
The supernatural impressions linked to just giving
To help clear your own pathways to find ways to deliver poetic prayers
To those struggling with just living
With any mental or traumatic depression's
To then walk down life's many metaphysical runways
Like a young Gabrielle Bonheur Chanel or an inspired
Paul Poiret
If so
Because I believe
In you
Always be optimistic
For true belief
Lies in all you do
To help transform your soul
Into a sage or mystic
Allowing you to chase rare stars and wild Middle Earth dreams
To bind mistakes
To white feathers
To then throw them into Healing Fires
For their old powers over you
To in rising grey smoke
Retire
As you learn
Which new bridges to
Cross
And which old bridges
To burn
For
Sacred Self Knowledge
Is ubiquitous
A chimera
A conjunction of wild beasts
Roaming wild
Living life through
Nine letters
Like a follower of being sagacious
Which to the child of the Revived
Can never be
Denied
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
Sagacious:
Having or showing acute mental discernment and keen practical sense; shrewd:
Socrates, that sagacious Greek philosopher, believed that the easiest way to learn was by asking questions.
Synonyms: perspicacious, keen, sharp, acute, judicious, intelligent, clever, discerning, sage, and wise.
REVIVED:
Refreshed, renewed, reborn, energized, resuscitated, recreated, and regenerated.
Too many questions, way too few answers
Why would an egg wear blue pants, sir? And
Wherefore his fall? Perchance he was struck with a lance, sir
Or could it be he keeled over from cancer?
But these answers are foolish, silly as can be
Let us seek precision, yea clarity -- just you and me
First let us consider Humpty's engimatic egghood
Whence he came, his origins, his neighborhood.
Humpty hailed, sure, from the finest of breeding's nests
His pedigree indubitably the crest of the West
Why else would "King's Men" strive to aid him so?
Inconceivable then, that he be hatched not from Royal Dough
And yet, and yet -- that last name strikes hard at this theory
The name "Dumpty" denoting 'dumpy,' connoting 'weary'
The overall effect on eyes perspicacious, quite bleary
A name bestowing tidings negative -- never cheery
So where does that leave us, O intrepid fellow-seeker?
Let us push past the thorns and the thistles, those sticklers
That wreak havoc on curiosity so fragile as it peeks
Back into the matter of Humpty's breeches, heretofore piqued
Observing their color oft rendered blue
Though on occasion brown or purple, and even striped too
--Why, friend, I think I've got it, by Jove!
The answer to Humpty's mystery, for which we mightily strove
Brown is an outlier, not worthy of consideration
Purple represents Royalty, the Crown's Coronation
But Blue, validly, veritably, and verifiably, is a color so True
The King's Man who wears it can fend off every attempt at a coup!
July 01, 2018
Utter brainless nincompoop
in this poem heretofore addressing
I wanna be forever free
and clear from mortal anguish,
and need more than a blessing -
I need a miracle worker after confessing
behavior causing depressing
wretched state of mind
self incriminating admission expressing
emptying out checking
and savings accounts.
Gross negligence fomented morass
of monetary hemorrhage,
thus yours truly speculating
imagining peaceful easy feeling
after quaffing hemlock beverage
(considerably less expensive
than trained masseuse
administering head to toe effleurage)
the former painless demise
popularized courtesy Socrates
whereby Athenian democracy
charged said philosopher
with impiety and corrupting
the youth of Athens
unlike him I feel mental,
physical, and spiritual states
devastated, jackknifed, and shattered
into a million little pieces,
hence appealing notion shucking off
western civilization equipage,
and concomitant linkedin
corporeal defrauded earthling
and author of these words.
The importance of money
or lack thereof smarts,
especially when series
of unfortunate events
even Lemony Snicket,
would be flabbergasted
at such blatant and flagrant stupidity
exhibited courtesy yours truly.
Herr dummkopf did not function
with one iota of his brain
case in point entire
financial cushion he did drain
anonymous, barbarous, egregious,
ferocious, iniquitous jerks
re: cyber crooks enriched their coffers
in previous poems I did explain
how yours truly got sucker punched
to surrender substantial capital
subsequently severe depression
washes over me like floodplain
after a major hurricane
thus another shout out,
though I feel quite insane
to drum up buffer (in) zone
excedrin also sought
to bring temporary relief
far fetched likelihood in dough main
despite moon shot
to witness philanthropic boost,
I keep praying Meg Found
will pull thru and ordain
(fiasco from fraudster frazzles father)
one ordinarily perspicacious primate
who financially doth strain.
Who can find a virtuous woman?
She is worth far more than rubies.
She is not a possession but a partner.
She is a fantastic conversation starter.
My wife found out that her brother drowned and that she was pregnant with our first child on the same day.
My wife had a husband lose his mind and her father shoot himself in the same 3 months.
Who can find a virtuous woman?
My wife rarely complains, walks clothed in love, and has a sexy smile like Sophia Lauren.
My wife giggles and laughs at stupid jokes out of sheer hilarious kindness.
Who can find a virtuous woman?
Women turn to my wife for advice and direction.
Men turn to my wife for encouragement and affirmation.
She is not a possession but a partner.
She is a fantastic conversation starter.
With her I will grow old.
With her I will travel back to the innocence of my childhood.
Loving her has not been easy as obstacles have come against us from day one,
But when I think to faint or run I dream of her soul and find strength.
Who can find a virtuous woman?
Her children arise and call her blessed;
Her husband also, and he praises her.
My wife’s love for our children manifests in busy days and restful nights,
And through her love my children never doubt the presence and reality of God’s affection.
My wife sees the best in me when others can only see frivolity and failure.
My wife beats back adversity with a conscientious smile and perspicacious laughter.
My wife knows God but does not flaunt her holiness as if it is on display for the world,
And my wife’s motivations are purer than the running water of mountain tops.
I seek not to exalt her to a place of codependence where all of her humanity is crushed beneath the pain of my subjective worship.
No, my wife is no God and she is constantly forgetting to lock her car,
But when I think of King Lemuel and his question for the ages,
When I think of King Lemuel and his somewhat chauvinist question,
Who can find a virtuous woman?
My response is always the same, I can!
My inner voice calm, looks for compassion.
To give encouragement, it comes from within.
I look for honesty as my eyes turn inside-out.
Always searching to bend nettles and thorns
into a perspicacious light, intricacy of lace —
intimate in the meaning of life and love.
Gems, like an embryo, form in the dark —
eye-popping wisdom of diamonds and rubies,
sapphires and fiery opals, not endlessly hypnotic
but romantically impactful, not dubiously distracting.
My arms don’t begin at the shoulders but are in the pits
of my inner ken, an amiable passion, like a Winter’s fire
surging powerfully to my hands that draw the waters
of kisses and hugs and the mundane of cleanup
at the end of a day, restart over and over again —
deep deep breaths whisper slowly of strength and vigor,
though the knees ache, the back’s bent but the smiles spark
and the laughs light up like fuel from within. My family draws
from my spirituality, the sense that everything will be alright.
4/23/2020
Sponsor: Caren Krutsinger
A Poem Honoring Spirituality Poetry Contest
This little preschooler sounded very precocious.
Unlike many adults, she seemed quite perspicacious.
This little girl was frank and honest with her word.
She did not seem to care about how she was heard.
The unexpected statement I could hear loud and bold.
It came from someone not more than three or four years old.
The little child was clear and easy to understand.
The father just smiled and took her by the hand.
The mother may have deemed her daughter uncouth.
However, the girl’s voice uttered unmitigated truth.
In only three words, this kid said it all.
She spoke at a food court in a shopping mall.
The short statement coming from this little pundit,
was the unmistakably heard “It’s all ********”.