Short Preened Poems

Beautified and vain
Pampered, preened to "perfection"
Lovers of themselves...

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Pompous
Politicians
Pontificating
Pointedly poignantly
Puffed, prettily preened
Propagates
Pretentious
Poopiness...

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two birds meet under a tree
preened feathers, standing so free
chirping with glee, wings of plea
praying together like Thee...

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Upset at the attention?
All day you primped and preened.
Why the self righteous contention…?
That much cleavage .. begs to be seen....

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Paint me a poem of Emerald green;
with lapis blues and golden hues.  
A poem that is so well preened,
that I’ll want to salute the sky.

...

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shadows at sundown
standing in the flaming frame
lover’s silhouette —
‘twixt ebon bike wheels he’s posed
heel’s elation, she’s preened

12/16/2020...

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poetic plumes preened
            perfect beauty in a cage

            free birds versed in sky







Inspired by Line Gauthier's Freeverse vs Structured Poetry Contest...

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The Liar

She practiced her mendaciousness 
With pride and a grandiose flair!

She preened and cooed so lovingly,
We all knew she was full of hot air!

Panagiota Romios
5/3/2019
7:30pm PST...

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Carving nature at the joints
the scalpel glistens clean
Motion severed night from day
all stillness duly preened 

Slicing creation half by half
its essence caught between
Feasting on marrow dripping free
—trapped inside a dream

(Saint David’s Pennsylvania: May, 2023)...

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Tremble
by Michael R. Burch
 
Her predatory eye,
the single feral iris,
scans.
 
Her raptor beak,
all jagged sharp-edged thrust,
juts.
 
Her hard talon,
clenched in pinched expectation,
waits.
 
Her clipped wings,
preened against reality,
tremble.
 
Originally published by The Lyric...

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Grouse Courting

I watch the Grouse do their dance,
As each feather is enhanced,
Vane or down, they’re preened and cleaned.
Keeping them healthy and streamed.

At the tail’s base, an oil gland,
That makes the feathers dry and grand.
From barb to rachis, they’re beak nibbled;
For the courtship ritual....

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Sunrise shimmering on your hair
Strands rise and wavy like mane of a mare
Soft and silky when stretched
Preened like feathers, not wretched

Hair cylindrical or long and blonde
Or tailed-black hair, straightened and tanned
Your scent till evening that sends affectionate waves
Pet I adore with perfectionate craves...

You are mine!...

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When I woke up last night,
anxious with worries,
I tried to remember the pelicans:

fifty white birds
snowed on a gravel bar
in the lake.

The trees on the bluffs were golden,
and the pelicans sat
under inky November sky,
preened with their great beaks
to prepare for the journey,
oblivious of our presence.

And the miracle
soothed my heart.

12/4/2017...

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A silvery-black crescent,
upon a black canvas
and this is a moment,
fern and moss don’t abandon.

Nature’s night magic
producing illusion;
it is not dreamscape,
hallucination or delusion.

There are things unseen,
in night’s liquid realm;
feathers well-preened,
soon to perch upon helm.

Herein lay wisdom,
gained from insight;
eyes in ascension,
guard on this night.
...

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Winter's subtle brush and Spring's balmy stroke
On ragged frost to glossy flowers
Will on with the heaven's wheel go—
A passing through your new older hours,
The sun's condolences, for dark power.
As you've preened birdsong into my fear, 
Your beauty's long and lasting ear—
My heart's breakthrough, tissues finally shed
Its life pulsing; pushing things; other years—
Vibrations only after freezing's midst....

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Love blossomed in the darkest night
Morn's gilding beams to spite
Night Primrose preened by tender blight
Sphinx moth soft tips caress; sugary nectar slight
Perfumed aroma doth prating, intoxicated courtier incite
Glazed petals with dewy fans stream delight
Golden cup a succoring bosom from which passions alight 
Delicate, cream veil eclipses pallid, stolid moonlight
With availing breeze your dreamy parasol on Cupid's wings takes flight...

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DAUBLIN THE PAINTER

                          Daublin the painter was a professional fainter
                     Got a contract from the Queen of Poro to paint her
                                   He daubed her face with green
                                  And preened her dog-ears clean 
                  And swooned over her bosom- what a skillful fainter!  







(c) Copyright: Rajat Kanti Chakrabarty
13th October,2014...

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As a girl in my teen I did stray
to the circus I did run away
I wanted to fly
high in the sky
But, Mother wanted me to dance ballet!

Yes Debbie-Do flew upon a trapeze
in sequined tights with a rod 'tween her knees
her hair in a tail
her cleavage unveiled
I was the toast of the town if you please!

As I preened on the platform up high
and powdered my two hands and my thighs
one fine reporter
said I really aughta
Try out for the circus in Shanghai....

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There was insurgency-
in white night.
Moon will stay to witness 

the murder
of a golden leaf.
What was the promise of a ripe
language ? The yellow thrust ?
Keeping a date with death was not all important.

There were
lots of poems to be underlined,
preened and straightened. The dirt had
accumulated. A metaphor
will remove the stains.

Any confession will
take away the mystry. Who killed
the nothing ?

Unrelenting
the apples were crashing.


Satish Verma...

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Noble men gone before
spoken of in written lore
all those souls that came and gone
liberty bought and freedom pawned
I wonder here in dark of night
who was wrong and who was right
is it any wonder how
we forget their names here and now
some names etched in stone and ink
just a few who stood on the brink
many still have yet to be seen
plucked from history books erased and preened
blood spilled stains the eye
and wrongs are wrought when good men die...

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Armano the Auracano of Rock Star fame
Will never be singing on his stage again

A fan. a critter, or even a possum 
Has taken his life, he will no longer blossom

He was a handsome dude, tall and preened
With shiny red rustic feathers, and did the girls scream

A newspaper reporter asked his manager Dane
It must be hard for you, as you will miss him playing

Yes i will, things will never be the same
But another star will be born, to look after his dames...

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Dedicated to Timothy Lee, the best of me

I held my cherished man's hand with glee
as we strolled thru a lush field's spread
towards a line of noble, old trees
that preened and cooled the river ahead.

Small pastel flowers dotted the bank
like romantic marks meant to lift hearts.
My perceived life stresses all fast sank
in nature that dressed in Eden's art.

Like freedom's children, we nature romped.




... CayCay
October 2, 2019...

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MEDIA blah blah blah

pixels preened
behind the screen
                  bovine’s masticating cud
               meadows buzz
           with fervent grass
lush and bombastic

each host coerces
                         the baton
mouths go on and on

chlorophyll on careening tongue
                       resurgence of bile
coterminous commentary regurgitates...

i’m caught in the loop

i press a button
     the curtain falls

         i sip “soup”

7/14/2017
light poetry...

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