Passé Poems | Examples

Justifying Plagiarism

Seems plagiarism, isn’t a crime
Let’s copy lines we deem sublime
Perhaps from Shakespeare
Or wit Edward Lear
And poet’s deceased a long time

It's pointless alerting admin
Cos stealing work’s not deemed a sin
It’s really not fair
To steal works out there
It happened much to our chagrin

Known clichés which are now passé
Just copy them and post away
Then act with denial
Sit tight, even smile
And perhaps, get Poem of the Day!

Zen mode

relying on connect
vibrational
senses now passé 
we ascend

Fixing a Leak

The plumber is fixing a leak;
The pipe’s needing more than a tweak.
So for things to improve 
He will have to remove 
Some wood panels - I’m starting to freak.

Our house, built in ‘80, is old
And it’s paneled, which is, truth be told,
Now considered passé 
But was cool in its day,
Though with changing it, I’ve not been sold.

So I’m listening from the next room
As he hammers and drills; I presume
That he knows what to do 
For we haven’t a clue
If more leaks, in the future, will loom.

But voila! He just finished and yes,
I’m relieved of a lot of my stress,
For he came well-equipped
To replace what had dripped
And he didn’t leave much of a mess.

On the wall, all the panels survived 
And the handyman, once he’s arrived,
Will nail down what is loose
And, as you can deduce,
Of my kitchen, I won’t be deprived.

A Gallery of Passing Clouds

These thoughts we frame and title
hang now from long defunct dendrites,
made branchless by the passé and pointless
now all strung-up upon threadbare strings.

Ones or twice the hanged are molested
by magpies seeking baubles for their nests,
yet most go unrobbed and remain as still as death,
or they twist in chill uncaring winds.

These thoughts shaped to mind-images,
collected together in empty galleries,
these works nibbled at; edited by blind mice
who then hurriedly hide from sight
the slipshod carpentry of our words.

These portraits of spent passions
may still be gazed upon
by the idle few, who beyond all reason
choose to elect a passing cloud
to admire or decry,
plucking out that feathery fragment,
as if it were the real feature

of the faceless and yet untold.

Thought of the day

having outgrown lower mind crutch ~
thoughts are passé, we learn by touch 

our muse comes from the universe ~
with no need for us to rehearse

Zen mode

the empty body urn
hums with potent power
in the flame of bliss we burn
enlivened spine a magnetic tower

scriptures are passé, we walk alone
navigating the vast vibrant void
light of Self comes into its own
delusion of mind destroyed

Ye Ole Jalopy

Just saw a fancy new jalopy go by
At least that's what we used to call 'em
Guess the ad men would surely cringe
Jalopy wouldn't cut it for them!

With all of today's sexy new cars
Jalopy is a blast from the past
The pace of life was much slower then
Less frantic and surely not as fast!

Any of you remember “rumble seats”?
Wonder why they called them so
1939 was the last time we saw them
Gone with those silent movie shows!

But the reality is there's no going back
We're stuck in this frantic new world
One which no longer has time for niceties
My mind's in a tizzy and a whirl!

I take solace in knowing in coming years
Today's technology and texting
Will be just as passé as the old jalopy
The future will be even more perplexing!

Just saw a fancy new jalopy go by
Traveled back to another time and place
Enjoyed the much simpler things in life
At a slower and less frantic pace!

When We Be Awake

when ego is not
then thought too is not
and with lower mind at rest
subterfuge and camouflage are passé 
‘tis when essence of pristine presence emerges
finally ensouling form in active awareness 
whilst ego now serving soul as is ought
opposites having dissolved we rise
breath by breath oozing love

Academy

I went to school to try and find
new ways to write creatively.
Professors challenged my young mind
with homework drills approved by the
Academy.

Postmodernism ruled the day.
No metered rhymes were ever heard-
such verse considered "too passé".
Creative Writing profs preferred 
some obscure word.

The free verse that I wrote while there
was abstract, cynical, rhyme-free,
sophisticated, debonair.
The one flaw in such poetry -
it wasn't me.

With time, I learned to find my voice - 
words forming my biography.
I write in styles that suit my choice,
not those of some Academy
of poetry.

written 22 July 2023

Zen Mode

looking before leaping
for innocence is passé 
soul in a state of no mind
celebrates each faux pas

18-March-2023

The Witches Strike

The witches have now gone on a huge labor strike.
They are more difficult now to double cross, let alone like.
They are wearing socks that have a weird pattern of stripe.
Their underarm odors are notorious foul, irritating and ripe.
They are driving bat mobiles that make their brooms passé’.
I am glad not to be around any of them at the end of day.

Shall I Make You a Jumper

The tartan plaids are passé’, the new young hip fabric designer said.
She brought out the bolts of her new fall line and I gasped with joy.
I had never seen such beauty on a plain brown background of wool.
I reached to stroke the material, loving the oranges, pinks and yellows.
This is so gorgeous! I told her. I am delighted with it! I love it; LOVE IT!
She was pleased. Shall I make you a jumper?
No thanks, I reluctantly told her. I am allergic to wool.
My fingers began turning red.

Points To Ponder

Awareness
Self-aware
Yet love bereft
Barren

Mind-body
Senses five
Indulgence therein
Bondage

Divine attributes
Music, Poetry, Art
Imagined as owned
Delusion

Forgiveness passé 
But a self-healing tool
Transcend now to
Acceptance 

The way we look
At all sentient beings
Must feel within them
Holy Spirit

17-August-2022

Bookmarks

Charities in search of cash 
Send envelopes with pleas
And sometimes little gifts in hopes
My giving gene they’ll squeeze.

Most often it’s a sheet or two 
Of labels with my name 
And street address, but in addition,
Bookmarks sometimes came.

I use the labels less and less
As bills are paid online
And bookmarks to the pile
Of things passé I must consign.

Enticements might encourage 
A donation, that is true,
But what once worked no longer is
Appealing to accrue.

Fads Come and Fads Go

Fads come and fads go
Is this pronoun thing a ho ho ho?
I am sure for some it is important and real.
Others jump on, wanting more zip and zeal.

Tik Tok and U-tube, two of today’s norms
Taking new directions, creating new forms
Will they both be passé’ in the thirties?
Names going back to Homers and Gerties?

Database and web were unknown in the eighties.
Google was not a word known to us natives. 
Word processors barely peeking out.
LOL and MMAT make me want to shout!

The first computers took an entire room.
No one fathomed owning one.
Now we all talk away on Zoom.
High tech craziness. Oh what fun!

Things are moving at mega-super-speed.
People like Putin filled with incredible greed.
Sex traffickers are real and true.
I liked the old ways. How about you?

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