Long Pretentiousness Poems
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Time stopped.
Cynthia, frozen in glass shoes.
Time stopped
when she’d not accepted his proposal.
Prince Nicholas bided his time
to think. How could he persuade this lass
to wear his ring?
He looked over this fine partygoer.
She was having a ball,
so what happened?
Clues were all around.
Her fairy godmother, in stasis, hovered nearby.
Her gangly stepmother, with bulging eyes,
and two stepsisters - one in the shape of
a pumpkin, the other - catastrophically clumsy
was tripping over her own two feet, the wings
of her drink, hilariously hanging in air.
Clues all around.
His father, antagonized, annoyed, stern.
His mother, a little too sweet.
Clues all around.
Too simple, the music, a bore.
Too many wallflowers and simpleton-men
getting drunk.
Cyndi was ready to run. Every clock
in the kingdom, struck! It was midnight,
the moon, high and full, white and magical.
Ah… He walks around her, takes in her gown,
spun from the finest silk and lace. She’s full
of grace, personality and that smile
and flirtatious eyes, the bluest eyes he’s
ever seen.
Prince Nicholas, awoke only the godmother.
“Please, magical one, fix this disgrace.
Disband all this pretentiousness and lackluster.
Cheer this place so I can place
this ring upon this lass. She’s won
my heart. She’s the princess I’ve been after.”
That wand of hers, outside of time, filled the palace
with a mist. It filled each mind with happiness. Each
one filled with their happiest memories as if they
were happening. They woke up, as if from a dream,
smiling, laughing. All their senses keen.
Everyone was dancing. The colorful gowns twirling around
and impressive suitors courting with buoyant steps.
Midnight struck its halfway chorus, as the prince bent down
on knee and asked Cyndi to be
forever his. “I don’t know what I was thinking a moment ago,
Nicky, but yes…yes…yes. A thousand times yes!”
Did they live happily forever after? With a few kinks -
after all, life is not boring. And marriage must be
figured out with time. Occasionally-
at the midnight chime, Cyndi’s fairy godmother, would hold
the hands of the clock and lift everyone’s spirits.
The stepmother, her pumpkin and left-shoed children,
were carried away in a coach to Bumpkinland, far far
far far far away.
8/19/2022
Oh hearken to me Destroyer of Poets
With heart in hand I declare my feelings
Without pretentiousness humbly kneeling
Thou art the greatest and now I show it
In verse for all so they shall to know it
My desire for you I've been concealing
Conversations with you left me reeling
I'm amazed how you remain so stoic
So beautiful, so gracious, and funny
Promptly greeting then eating newcomers
Wittiness and charm forever ascends
You cast the longest shadow when sunny
And call out those duplicitous bummers
I'm glad we've decided to be good friends
Italian Sonnet rhyme scheme abba abba cde cde
an original poem by the "poemdog" Daniel Turner
For my friend Linda "Poet Destroyer"
Through forded streams, nostalgia seems, to be a sense of Nordic Dreams
The pathways to yesterdays, appear to retreat to ample schemes.
Broken nails and nightingales lighten up your brooks and streams.
Take a lock of broken stock to see what truly seems.
Lilt repose in lily throws, is knocking at my silken chair
Through the slits, the moonlight sits, its gaze upon my flaxen hair.
Opportunity flaunts as debutantes, in appearance gracefully debonair.
Gentle words floating from the birds, act upon me without a care
As a white dove from above, with beads of honey running wild
I withdrew to be with you, for words that are Coleridge styled.
They come in turn, to gently discern, and then gather into a pile.
In a continuum, within this kingdom, they come at us all the while.
Though they seem as in a dream, to be of pure fantasy;
if I believe, I may conceive, to have them become reality.
They may seem far as a distant star, but may be in propinquity.
Permanence in ascertainments, can be a hallmark of destiny.
They address as they coalesce, the storefront pretentiousness
in giving description, within inscription, with literary prowess.
Words convey, contained in a foray, upon the domain of impressiveness,
they are contained as they remained, as acknowledged in cohesiveness.
All the rhymes during the times, taste as sweet as butter creams.
As a scribe would inscribe, the essence of moonbeams
In our yesterday, and today, written on papyrus reams
Both fantasy and reality, within the nostalgia of Nordic Dreams.
by Andrew Crisci
Bitter tears drip from my red pupils like incandescent, hot lava
erupting from a volcano to appease the urges of weeping;
and do I mourn for myself, or for the poor, innocent, persecuted,
misunderstood and unloved? Will this cry of injustice change anything?
Will the oppressor be softened by them or remain vile?
It's very rare that pretentiousness turns into consciousness,
revealing all the faults that make one a persona ingrata;
why is human pride such a tempting desire to own everything,
to destroy what was built with stamina leaving no footprints?
What will be said about an era which did not prosper and shine?
Who will write the testimony books, if not those inspired?
Take the written word away, and the darkness will definetely return!
Dante and Shakespeare did their part in divulging it: you do yours!
Yesterday's world was a menacing shadow oblitering all knowledge;
the masses were ignorant, but some fervently sought education
through the favor of Kings and Queens, not ignoring the urges of weeping
that came from poverty and unvoiced thoughts that couldn't be expressed;
yes, the above-mentioned Rainassance poets did succeed in their quest!
What disturbs me is the absence of fairness and equality in our times,
even murderers can be acquitted for reason of insanity..they take a life
so sacred and useful in scopes beyond comphrension and imagination;
how wratful God must be over the decision of a lenient, or corrupt judge!
And what outrages me is the heartlessness of mothers that want obortion,
or leave the new-borns in trash bins, or on sidewalks...not even
on a church's steps to be spotted by passerbys who will come to their rescue;
and sadly they will die without knowing the urges of weeping as we do.
How cruel and lawless is Man ruling the earth without the concept of humaness!
And what does He care if they live in squallor and are denied happiness?
All He desires is riches, admiration and comfort over the urges of weeping!
Entered in Michael J. Falotico's contest,
" Sounds Of A Cry "
Serena, turn on your charms;
Serena,tackle my imagination
with that sexy,hip look
to sap my judgement...
'till I'll cry in desperation,
'till I'll burn with the fire of passion!
Your gorgeous body,so feminine,
is a body of true perfection
that needs a touch of man's magic
to make it more complete!
Serena,don't look down on me with disbelief;
I'm the guy you're looking for,
and are these the hands you'd rather
trust,hold,touch and squeeze...
when nobody can satisfy your need,
but will you comply and please?
Will you fall in love unconditionally
or hold on greedy ways?
Will you doubt my loyalty?
If you aren't sure to break loose
from your undeniable pretentiousness,
then have the freedom to choose!
The Best Thing You Had...
May 27, 2013
"Frankly Speaking" I can't hide my kindness? My exterior says tough; Yet, for some reason you looked right pass that!
I did not intend to care-or to love or to march on beat- or to become unhinged.
Can I hide my eyes? Why are you not afraid- Why doesn't my indifference offend you? Before now, not even months ago, I was shrouded in beauty; Which I thought was the reason for your endearment.
This time I am now withered - No way for her to see the big deal you saw in me. Beauty nor homeliness is not allowed to not stand in the way of progress - I was your means to an end- Then after she asked after me. You spoke ill of me said, that I was "nothing to write home about “. By then I'd come to know That I was your "best kept secret ".
She has stolen me from you like a thief creeping in the shadows. As a good friend, she had to ask you to make sure that her next move would be fair' She ask after me again - As she was one of your uppity friends that coveted whatever you were doing.
You knew what it was- ' She knew there was more to me than met the eyes, and so did you. So, the day you all went sailing on your yacht is when you deceitfully gave her your presumptuous assessment of my worth.
She in turn revealed to me of your “cum si -cum saw” pretentiousness. She told me she would do better by me and how unappreciative you were. She came to rescue me. And we stole away to the Boca-Raton.
And the best thing you had was now gone.! Even though my survival instincts and my ability to turn nothing into something. Still pays off for you.
Now you had the profit all to yourself ... Although I think about it often,I bet you never had a clue.
Yet with all you knew,when she asks you about me, the backbone of your spineless spine: The truth could have been told --and we could have been fine-
We are sharing the memories of those days separately. Maybe you know now why I left you with your "mangoes ", I never told you the secrets in my sauce. As I am just "FRANKLY SPEAKING"
(tid-bits of my life)
Copyright © Vicki Acquah | Year Posted 2013
Gambling with WWIII
Let Putin feel the power
Of the USA poker face
Invite Ukraine to the table
Stack the chips up high
Welcome their citizens
With open arms
We already send them weapons
We already send them aid
They're already a Democracy!
Let's add them to our flag
With a Star worth more than money
Worth more than fame
You've forced our hand
Let's plan to create a new US border
You won't mind if we're your neighbor
War is not a game with
Toy soldiers, greed, and the need
To level out the playing field
Stop Russia' s own manifestation
Of mind-boggling pretentiousness
Watch out Putin, here we come ...
The 51st state: Ukraine!
Ever since humans sought the supernatural,
confusion seemed bizarre and hysterical;
within hills and mountains they erected their temples,
sang their praises to appease
their gods, who were thought to be angry at times...
what they were trying to accomplish
was to feel the presence of a spirit which granted their wishes!
How wonderful is the faith of true believers,
and they don't build cathedrals
as far as the unreachable sky;
the God they're searching for..is as close
as the depth of their faithful heart!
How loud are their voices,at sunrise, that ascend
like seagulls...to transform themselves
into a celestial chorus with a crescendo...
that draws them closer to a sky of indigo!
In the streets of this Babylonian craze,
religion is without atonement,
but there's plenty of defiled grace
to be consumed as the exquisitive
food of a privileged banquet...
where a doubter is rediculed by laughs and condemned;
human,human race where does God live?...
And does He approve of your false zest?
How wonderful is the faith of true believers,
clinging to that sublime hope, rising from light,
to reach Heaven without having to go through Hell;
how humble is the aspiration of the true faithful...
not relying on astrology,avoiding all kinds of deceit!
Be watchful and shun pretentiousness...
worship Him truthfully and assert your claim;
nobody but you can decide what's right!
Unblinking reflexive opinions lean
indubitably, favorably and certifiably
with minimal pandering soliciting
uber voodoo yawping woos
socially quintessentially obviously markedly
consciousness brakes alignment
defining mine political views
loosely yet not strictly, jerry-rigged,
hidebound Democratic
fealty haltingly pledged ones and twos
to roster of candidates
slated to challenge incumbent Republicans
all to quickly accused,
sans participating sinister ruse
this active voter puzzled at controversial
eye opening ex post facto
fractious, governmental
harmfully injuriously jaw-dropping
suppression within top secret queues
during nasty donkey kong braying p's and q's
(case in point) scurrilous, opprobrious,
and malodorous Clinton administration,
where (based upon my recent perusing
"The Peoples History” –
me strongly endorses
(authored by Howard Zinn news
worthy revelation, (whose recounting
atrocious, calumnious, egregious
glaring ignominious knowledge
jackbooted, mandated, predicated
on blind trust, essentially billeted
charade, facade, inlaid faux Hope loose
bandied cutthroat gratuity legislation
favoring pandering "pork" via
pretentiousness to wealthy gentiles Jews
abandoning average civilians snuffing out
sputtering, grousing, and hoo's
flick erring tapering fuse
whereat this news worthy informed citizen
totally tubularly unaware of any clues
pertaining to antithetical maneuvers,
(loo win ski) shenanigans, and undertakings
today yields genuine boo's
toward Clinton, where I despondently feel
he renegged promises
made to electorate (except top 1 %) got souled
(sold) to remaining 99% cheapest bidders
as-sized thirteen duff heated no nothing
sneezing Schnorrers
spluttering phelgm at me at-chews.
Dear Id,
Once again, I find my mind making the same journey into your deepest ocean of questions I can never fathom. So many times I've told myself it's such a complete waste of time to even cast my cares upon your unyielding waters. I have been utterly lost for days at a time trying to find my way back through the labyrinth of my mind. The air feels heavy and breathing has nothing to do with want or desire. For as long as I can remember, my reflection has been as an ever evolving meaningless Rorschach. No identifiable constants, just a tangled mess of emotion with a gaping hole of disappointment in the life experience. I ask myself, "Is this it?" The overwhelming outpouring of human pretentiousness and superficiality leaves me dying of starvation for anything real! Will it even matter? How can I miss something I've never known and be so instinctually convinced there is more? Enlighten me!
Truly,
Frustrated and Unfulfilled