Short Puerile Poems

Your puerile ways
Puts me on tenterhooks
Musing on you...

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What avail debate, if friendships are lost ~
Puerile oneupmanship pays a high cost

05-May-2022...

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in spring lightness:
      when one flower touches another
      puerile poetic brush of petals....

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Damsel of isles 
Phoenix so mysterious
Lo, I scribble 

Your puerile ways
Puts me on tenterhooks
Musing on you...

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what child knows silence?
in his puerile mind
colours speaks and birds laugh
songs shout happiness
and all is play.

what child knows silence
and can we lid his joy?...

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it often feels
as though life gathers stones
upon puerile sand

rising toward hubris
ever further from the source
…fragile as innocence

11 May 2020
Contest: Flow With The Collum Lune
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
Visual: 2...

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The ink has dried, musings shrivel
Inspiration flow dead
Words we form, puerile drivel
Emotes best left unsaid

We wish to but cannot
Bound in a narrow slot
Ego thought comes to naught

Our time we bide
The ink has dried

13-March-2022
Quietus ...

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Love rang my heart where I rebuffed her advances, hoping to heighten the longing love felt despite my fickle indifference, complacency and obstination. Love walked away and stoutly locked her door hermetically. I rue my puerile procrastination...

Love slips into longing 
hearts quiet, unheard, unseen
until it vanishes....

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Apologies to Clement Clarke Moore

The Night Before Christmas

In juxtaposition to the Nativity, while the
house beheld a calm and somnolence splendors
were a cool and gentle balm, the quintescence
of the evening was a certain entourage that
would dispel the expectations of a puerile
melange.
"Veni, vidi, vice", he gave a joyous cry,
"Requiescant in pace, I'll see you by and by."...

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Jagged fragments of a puerile chorus compose my fledgling thoughts.
Each shrill shard impales my soul with piercing slivers of childish inflections.
     Looped refrains of callow mantras whorl my mind in endless rounds. 
          
                                   tantrumed harmonies,
                              sung upon a splintered stage…
                                      my inner children...

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Eat thou not the bread of remorse
For its taste is bitter, tough, coarse

Made from many wrong of yesterdays
As it has aged, dried__ changed assays

Replays of when it was just baked
And of those whom heartbreak suffered

From puerile stunts and brainless words
Discords that filled that loaf's innards

Now moldy, indigestible
This bread, remorse......abominable


In Honor of Brian Strand's contest
Up to twelve lines.....

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On the side of a path branching off from the road
    expectations of glorious guilt mount
  makeshift trenches housing truants, anxiously counting
    the seconds 'til school officers call off the hunt... 

  Free at last at 9:30 to pursue puerile passions
    constructing lean-tos in trees, small campsites nearby
  They'd burn down the bush in a heartbeat if only
    their consciences would forget how to sigh...

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Exhumed memories
Pinned to a moment in time
Faded photographs

Close enough to hold
Or lose one's way and drown in
The past is like that

Stripped of artifice
The worst kind of nakedness
One's own reflection

Puerile litany
Lust begets lust begets lust
That's the thrill of it

Dancing by myself
Music slower softer now
Box is winding down

The music box plays
The ballerina dances
Graceful and alone
...

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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Winters' suitors never earned
cozen for their sacrifice
Love accepted, not returned,
frozen trophies kept on ice

Counterparts once jailed are freed,
gone to fairer girls of spring
Hearts disposed now those I need
So begins my reckoning

Puerile Moon rules Scorpio
fools of summer disenthrall,
swooning cools to vertigo

Who will love me come the fall?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
09/11/2020...

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Politicians                noisy

noisy noise noisters
                                        lyinglyinglyinglyinglying

lies always all

lies they lie always

                         disgruntled voters vote disgruntledly

disgustingly 

facist racist noises           eminate      appeal to


               ignorance idiocy intervenes

          intermittently

bigoted nazi party british national puerile...

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The canopy was beaming beneath radiant stars, as whirling
wedding night dances swirled round and round the garden …  
But her husband crippled, his manhood puerile,
Fate untied their sterile knot of desire.  

The world seemed to shrug; she felt herself
scorned.  Passersby avoided her eyes ...
Was it she'd been abandoned, deficient found?  
Or had the clock just run out on her cries?
  
              
              July 01, 2018...

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I marvel at the tears of stars
that loudly blush as they pass Mars

Toward earth they fall in streams of dust
on cosmic winds that swirl and gust

No doubt it seems a madman’s tale
a rotund lie of cosmic scale

I ask you though, with much chagrin
please wake that child that naps within

Though hard to see with grownup eyes
The puerile heart unveils their guise

Near tranquil ponds where sorrow feeds
they land and spark among the reeds...

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The shadows cast from childhood’s grace,
From oaks once climbed with wondered zeal, 
Still gently shade the heart’s chaste place.

A park where myths and dreams were real,
So long as thoughts remained puerile -
Imagination’s grass strewn stage.

Unchecked these shadows wane with age,
As grownup winds strip bare the trees,
Yet memories can still – assuage;
A canopy of youth’s reprise.  

Rhyme – ababbccdcd
French form - 8 syllables per line...

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It could be in the summer, winter, or fall.
I get these emails any time at all.
They most often come during the spring.
Receiving these messages becomes a common thing.
You are someone I cannot see.
How do I know you are what you claim to be?
Your messages appear to be puerile and trite.
I don’t care how many pictures you have on this site.
What you do is immoral and not right.
I don’t need you to be my f-buddy tonight.

February 25, 2013
...

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Bite The Bullet

Puerile caliber, risks crypt goes I, 
peashooter to Saturday-night-special, 
relatives riddled our home, armed, shot nigh, 
puerile caliber, risks crypt goes I, 
mortared appendages, aimless, I sigh, 
pinched and kissed, triggered red-bled cheeks, et al, 
puerile caliber, risks crypt goes I, 
peashooter to Saturday-night-special.

REVISED

2020 October 25
*Honorable Mention*
Pick-A-Title, Vol 24 - Triolet
~~Edward Ibeh...

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When most people lose their money in a casino,
profane language comes out in a steady flow.
That is something not unusual with losing money.
It seems to bring out the worst in everybody.
How many times do those bettors scapegoat me?
This is one thing that happens quite commonly.
What prime examples of immaturity!
Their puerile actions sometimes look funny.
Those things are here to stay and won’t go away.
I hear lots of profanity every day.

...

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In 1880, Pierre Cot built a trusty art out of lunacy.
Myriad experts debated the topic of roots vagary.
A puerile idol's skirt serves as an umbrella in a downpour.
The New York Museum's Catherine Wolfe bought it and bears more.
Very famous, many people have tried to copy this quite core

1ST Place Contest Winner

Written: February 1st, 2022

https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/435997

A STRAND (1068) Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand...

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