At the edges of everyone’s being
Are those perfect little surprises,
Lying in wait to be discovered
By unsuspecting enterprises.
Perfectly delightful peccadilloes
Sometimes wearing odd disguises
Small things that make our day
Shared with us like token prizes.
Written November 4, 2022
Categories:
peccadilloes, friendship,
Form: Light Verse
I, the poet that I am, the greatest dreamer
here I confess without rhyming in the verses...
I write for a time soon to come
with all the inspiration and faith of my poetry...
I write for a Heaven that will be our field of living, planting and harvesting...
For a time when we'll live life,
no death...
A time without the obscurity of greed
and profit...
Life of trees full of ethereal fruits, life of enchanted gardens...
Quiet beasts, harmless peccadilloes...
Rivers of milk and honey,
Disembodied friends...
A time always augustly clear
healthy atmospheres,
accessible crystals
facilities granted...
A time where rivals do not exist,
forgotten hates, erased grudges
blooming love in everyone and in
everywhere...
such a calm time
that if we stumble,
It will be pure happiness...!
Categories:
peccadilloes, allegory, allusion, appreciation, extended
Form: Prose Poetry
Lest I be stymied by life’s little peccadilloes,
I try not to be astounded by what comes my way
For life and love are not without wearisome billows,
And not everything that’s delightful comes to stay.
written February 25, 2022
submitted to "Bite Size Poem No. 38" Poetry Contest
sponsored by Line Gauthier
Categories:
peccadilloes, life,
Form: Light Verse
Preacher tempts us to ride
For us to be salvage
From the river of hell
Their words blinded
The eyes of many
But I belong to the few
Who would rather choose
To swim at the canal of torture
If that'll be the price of my action
We are all stained
With myriads of peccadilloes
The salvaging lie
The perfume of lust
The chest of greed
Such nature of human
But what's my point?
Nothing, nothing at all
I would rather say
Continue to drink the celestial milk
That seems filled your thirst
Because, my earthy venture
Was sealed of dark and lonely travel
But pity me not
Because we might just
Have the same fate
The seems hope of paradise
Bestowed to you by sages
Might just a world of fairy tales
A clear sky myth
Just an eyes closed journey
Towards the hole of oblivion
8/27/2016
Mysterious_aries
Categories:
peccadilloes, philosophy, religion,
Form: Free verse
Life can be a symphonic bonanza,
A philharmonic extravaganza,
A choral sunrise,
And an orchestrated surprise,
A conducted ecstasy,
An instrumental epiphany,
These are the peccadilloes of life,
The crescendo of my eternity.
Categories:
peccadilloes, angst,
Form: Light Verse
(INSPIRED IN PART BY A SONG BY THE GREAT FRENCH 'SOUL SINGER', EDITH PIAF)
Should we praise the chanteuse
who sang "I regret nothing"?
Was she a saint or a sociopath?
Did she forget the peccadilloes,
the slights, the insults and harsh
words we are so prone to?
I regret so much, so very, very much:
the chanced shaking of another's heart,
the deafness to her tears, the blindness
to her unsung lamentations--
too much a coward to love,
I would run, run away,
even jumping an ocean to flee
what was between her and me....
Now, aging, I regret I cannot make
amends to those lost loves.
I cannot say, "I am sorry, I was weak,
in fear of your love--
forgive me... forgive me."
Categories:
peccadilloes, age, angst, girlfriend, love
Form: Free verse
Poca à poca you crawled
I stood dumb as you fouled
The golden rules
Only heaven knows
Why I stood still and froze
As you sneered and spat
Your rancorous venom all over the place
You forced your way in
Pushed and pushed
Till everyone stepped aside for you
Only for us to be entrapped
In your labyrinthine world of shame
Now you tightened corners of your web
Got victims
Smashed the heads of cronies together
And spat the spiteful venom on their hearts
Oh, to us it tasted like fresh honey
Only for us to remember it was too late
For us to regurgitate
Oh how my head hated
To see my heart find joy
In that cryptic ignominious world
Imprisoned with acerbity
As we watched your affected smile
Crack up in drops of laughter
We egged ourselves on
Hoping your random peccadilloes
Would not cause anymore pain
For you to gain
Oh how thankful I am
To myself, my head in particular
To get you to drink your own juice
How relieving for me it is
To se you languish in endless pain
May the nemesis of your sins
Be everlasting
Till you are divinely purged clean
By the Almighty Himself.
Categories:
peccadilloes,
Form: Blank verse
The vernal showers- so sublime, divine,
Pattering on enticing eglantine,
Resounding refrain, the thunders sing,
The spectral arcs smearing spirit of spring,
Drenched in that shower from welkin’s soul,
Marigolds and tulips dance enthralled.
I hear them drizzle on the grassy green,
Their song like a lullaby my senses reign,
My silent rendezvous with these drops blissful,
Exuding ecstasy within wistful,
That I be intrepid to wonder in awe-
“What be these drops that stir my soul?”
They be showers of blessings from a celestial mind,
To cleanse the peccadilloes of human kind.
Or they be drops from plaintive eyes, lamenting-
“What man has made of man.”
Categories:
peccadilloes, nature
Form: Rhyme