Shinier Poems | Examples

Pretty Paradox

We are two flames,
Colliding and clashing,
Eroding our names,
Each other, slashing. 

Merging miraculously,
In some eternal timeline,
Vowing velvety love variously,
Flowing and floating as fine as wine. 

My hand longs your hand,
Our hands meet and then
We turn into slipping sand,
A poem by a perpetual pen. 

My hands are cold,
Struggling to keep hold,
Your hands are burning,
Holding and yearning. 

My eyes, as silent as cold night,
Yours are loud and alight. 
"What are we?" Asked thee,
"Pretty paradox, you and me"
Said I, ridiculously.

You, it's you, I admire thy worth,
Prettier than ethereal earth,
Beauty reaches its zenith
When men are in love,
Shinier than the stars above, 

Alluring are the men in love,
Dreamier than a divine dove. 
Appealing than ardent Adonis,
Men in love are a beguiling bliss.

Bewitching beauty that makes
Coy even the luminous lakes.
Swains, beauteous boon,
Ravishing than the beaver moon.

male peacock

A flash of shiny blue silk waddles into view of the bamboo stalks
a distinct crown and Egyptian painted eye; his beak is golden
Male peacock, shows his glorious feathers,
his symmetrical design gorgeously done
He courageously wanders onto a cliff of gray shale, 
The moon is not any shinier than his magnificent feathers;
Other creatures are in awe, marveling at his unique costume
A feathery concoction that his wife does not dare wear,
Her muted browns help her keep their eggs in hiding.

Alina Aveyard

The agony the shadow brings to the room,
Those seafoam eyes shinier than the moon.
The variables a haunting reminiscence
Of three thousand years of omniscience.
The cursed form of blessing 
Through a sweet twilight addressing
Makes it's way through the silent graveyard
Towards a stone that reads "Alina Aveyard".

Lucky Lucky Lucky Lucky Me

Heaven’s door was not as pretty as I had originally hoped.
I was not repulsed, I was intrigued actually.
I knocked once politely.  No one came.
So I knocked three small knocks.
Nothing.

That’s not the right door, someone said.
I was shocked. How did he know?
His head was wrapped in a big bandage.
I followed him in spite of my reservations.

He had found a bigger brighter, shinier door.
He knocked and promptly disappeared.
I knocked and 
nothing…..

Several other doors were found.
Keep trying! An angel yelled to me. You are doing great.
Everyone has their own door!
This was amazing to me.

At Heaven's Door

Heaven’s door was not as pretty as I had originally hoped.
I was not repulsed, I was intrigued actually.
I knocked once politely.  No one came.
So I knocked three small knocks.
Nothing.

That’s not the right door, someone said.
I was shocked. How did he now?
His head was wrapped in a big bandage.
I followed him in spite of my reservations.

He had found a bigger brighter, shinier door.
He knocked and promptly disappeared.
I knocked and 
nothing…..

Several other doors were found.
Keep trying! An angel yelled to me. You are doing great.
Everyone has their own door!
This was amazing to me.

Good Old Days: As Life Unfurls

I remember the good old days of what now seems so long ago
The year was twenty nineteen. What parties we used to throw
Family and friends gathered for weddings and festive holidays
Smiles were seen before flashes of illness and dissension blazed

Parents went off to work; their children educated at school
Life was much easier then; and people didn't seem so cruel
We laughed and joked at neighborhood restaurants and bars
Hope in the future was bright, and shinier seemed the stars

It was a time when we took for granted, many simple things
When never would we have imagined the wrath of viral stings
Nor how much we would sadly miss the nearness of others
the signs of affection we'd still give, if we had our druthers.

There is one special memory from those "The Good Old Days"
that will never be forgotten in the grateful voice I lovingly raise
The blessed news of a new family member; a healthy baby girl
I pray her future will be worry free,  as I watch her life unfurl



January 13, 2021
The Good Old Days Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mystic Rose Rose

Across the Seas

across the seas


the Pacific Ocean was like an undulating mirror 
that day the ship was on its way to Nagasaki
which for the young crew onboard meant nothing
it is incredible how quickly a war is forgotten.
Under the ocean, there were hundreds of sunken ships
there must have been much suffering and deaths
and many books were written on how successful America 
had been beating the enemy into submission.
Nagasaki was like building site the Phoenix was rising
up from the ashes shinier than before.
I came across a neglected Portuguese Cemetery of mostly
young men who had succumbed to pestilence long 
before Japan became a modern state
the only visible place that told of deaths the rest was
face masks because of building dust and beer. 
I looked at the faces in the street this was not an oppressed
people, the war was behind them they looked at the future.

The Hope of the Hopeless

There is no light of hope in my eyes. I am chasing to grasp Death's skirt out of hopelessness. Her eyes are the bluest heavens, her hair shinier than millions of suns. Her name is Hope, will Nadejda be the hope of the hopeless.
Nadejda is a female russian name meaning hope
A phoenix without wings

3 Step Poetry

It springs upon you.
Gleaming clawed metaphor
struggle to unhinge.

Many-legged adjectives 
commence to crawl over the page
similar to a robotic centipede
but bigger, shinier, brasher.

Then the seductive purr,
the mannered modes, the manicured forms,
the unmistakable reek of poetry.

The first step they say is recognition,
the second step is to find it a home.
The third step is to clean up
after it craps itself.

A Diamond

You only notice the sparkle--
The way she became shinier. 
Have you ever wondered
How she was able to shimmer?
This precious gem
Was once a black carbon
Turned into a worthy emblem.

Syllogistics

Comparisons are unerring things at worst; 
Every common ore yielded for shinier gold, 
And tepid junkets given up in apt forfeiture
For tolerably pricier carats unsullied stored. 

Far less treasured lots perpetually stand
In shrouded paths to more pleasing deal, 
And more often than not emit lures bland
To fade jollities owners of finer gems feel. 

Prudent choosers are harder to hoodwink; 
They're grateful to know how to swiftly tell 
Vast variance between wee penny's worth
And huger wads quiet past old minas' kink. 

They're merrier types closer to Midas lips; 
Smarter-thinking pickers noted with strips
Of fair Fortune's higher turns beyond taste, 
Loftier than Fancy's dreams and her haste. 

With comparative logic one never can err, 
Since brighter minds cheap choices abhor.

Strait

I’ll exit in quiet and angst-hastened steps 
Over the sanded dust on that jinxing floor;
And with well-metered gait soon shoot out
Into a sea of blank faces beyond the door. 

I own I must pity each unspeaking grain
Of sad earth asleep under my agile feet,
Unaware of those heavy strides of pain,
Resolute where tears and anxiety meet. 

I nurse a weird thought that I’ll encounter
An intolerably inquisitive eye as I saunter
Past every low stretch of panicky ground,
Curious whereto my swift legs are bound.

It will be a hastily embarked on walk to far
Climes cast between two impossible walls:
Meanest Fate on dim life's left-handed end,
Luck posted on shinier side of such fracas. 

At seven-thirty in the chilly morn’s breeze,
I’ll roam wherever Destiny’s winds please!

Pasquinade

Sweet is equally sweet to all mortal tongues, 
Choice morsels sate all men's starved pangs; 
Brilliant sights of plenty charm every eye right, 
And friends against foes for shinier spoils fight.

Why then do many in want of fine things stand; 
Or, how come keenest mouths on gravel feed? 
What alters those picky looks on life's shelves
That tell the greatest from the blandest breed? 

Sheer wishful cravings for tasty bites alone, 
Can't tear sumptuous meat from obtuse bone; 
Nor can mere oglings turn fate's mulish thread, 
That pins all sojourners on the hardened tread.

Life's fortunate farers got loads of apt swag: 
Maybe just a weird tooth for plaintive rhyme, 
Or a bankrupt itching to benefit others' souls; 
Artful ploys to outshine the sly guiles of dime.

Prized strokes of luck eschew the clinical type, 
And smile on stony folks immune to their hype.

Ode To a Diamond

Pure and white
Glimmering in the summer sun
Like fairy dust sprinkled in the sunbeams
A paradigm of perfection
Radiating beauty and happiness
With no hint of a flaw
Sending a message of grace and tranquillity
Silently.
Shinier than many, less than even more
But one of a kind.
Unique.
Special.
I wish I shone like you.

The Wettest Spring I Have Ever Seen

There were slimy spotted frogs jumping out of the oaks, 
Slickest yellow raincoats worn by the bravest of folks.
And giraffes trying to hide in the daisy flowers.
While we were saturated with April showers.

There were earthworms as large as giant red fire trucks
Oozing and itching their way down the green grass
Rapidly squirming their way down the sidewalks of mucks.
Shinier than slimy wet spit on holiday glass.

It was the wettest spring I had ever seen.
The neighbors were so wet, they truly turned into mean.
It became even more wet in my backyard
When three hippopotamuses named Jack, Joe and Jard.

Escaped city zoo, and ran to my little known place.
They were mean to each other, slapping each face.
They tried to sit daintily on my pond’s lily pad.
Flooding my house, and making me really mad.

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