Stylized Poems | Examples

Fantastic, Not Plastic

I feel so vitalized, stylized, unanalyzed.

Eclectic, electric, not hectic!

My cells are atomized, crystalized, uncompromised.

Eccentric, ecstatic, not skeptic!

My mind's been mesmerized, civilized, unprivatized.

Fantastic, elastic, not plastic!

Cuz I have level eyes, country sized, unrealized.

Authentic, romantic, not manic!


...Or, maybe I'm just a little bit bombastic?

Saladin's Head

Under the solar system
in our basement I sat,
copying schematics of
superheterodyne radios
from a book on electronics,
while my dad, across from me,
stood at his drawing board 
illustrating advertisements
for feed and farm equipment.

The floor was painted blood red,
the walls bandage white—
a battlefield made tidy.
The dehumidifier murmured its hymn
beneath Saladin’s ceramic gaze,
his turbaned brow inscrutable
as my father bent to sketch
a combine in perfect perspective.

And why Saladin’s head?
What did it mean to my dad,
this sultan of Egypt and Syria?
Did he admire the general
for how he fought with honor
or just like the look of him—
that calm authority, 
that stylized beard?
Was it a joke I never got,
or a reminder
of some private war?

Saladin’s head— 
commanding,
noble, 
a little creepy—
still hangs
somewhere in my mind,
a relic or a riddle,
watching as I trace new lines
through circuits of memory,
searching for my father’s face.

Dazzling in Appearance

     The vestments of Aaron the High Priest stood out
       Their striking beauty brought about 

     heightened expectations from the hushed crowd
       as the High Priest entered the Holy of Holies in a cloud

     of incense, carrying the names of each tribe on his breast
       seeking G-d’s pardon, that His people He bless… 

     trembling, humble – though dazzling in appearance
       Aaron pleaded Israel’s case with iron-willed perseverance



     ________________________________________________
     Above is a stylized description of the entrance of Aaron, the
     High Priest, into the Holy of Holies in the Tabernacle, on Yom
     Kippur, when the Tabernacle was carried from place to place
     during the forty years that the Israelites' sojourned in the 
     Sinai Desert. (3,300 years ago).

RAPHAELISTA rossetti prb et al

RAPHAELISTA 
literary
  stylized
symbols
highly
 elaborated
in
extreme
  detail
of wet white
in
bright
  colours

NOUVEAUISTA morris ensor

NOUVEAUISTA 
stylized
    fin de siecle
writhing
    forms
in
decorative
   flourishing
conceptions
dream like
tendrils
  To bring
clarity
 to
   the heart

To One No More Lionized

If you were much lionized
Later no more recognized
Or by some men demonized
Would it leave you traumatized,
Judge it a foul play dramatized;
Have the actors stigmatized:
As Satan characterized?

You must not try the dreadful:
To fight them or other frightful!
Put up you should the easeful
That makes painless the painful…

Your arch smiles now the stylized,
Your movement systematized,
Time for Apps digitalized, 
And once again ways modernized…

Black Paper

The black guy on the white paper
Is pointing a gun at me again.
As always I wonder
why not a white guy on black paper?

He is a brutal gangster.
Behind the stylized caricature
there is nothing
and that is why he has to be killed.


Aim, pull the trigger.

The black man trembles,
a draft ruffling the target
as it hangs suspended
25 yards away.

What happens next
is too quick to take back.

Circles of light 
punched into shadow.

Behind the gun sight
a slug passes through my eyes
harmlessly

I've dodged another bullet.

Not Always a Fan

I’m not always a fan of poetry - if I actually take time to ponder it
- it can be so irritatingly rhymey, kind of fussy and needlessly intricate.

Compare my love to a summer’s day and I’ll probably yawn and walk away.

Take a nuanced look at the transactions of sex and consent,
and as adults, we may wonder where the romance went.

You know, it only happens once in a while,
that someone with wit and individual style
comes along with something to say
and scribbles it down in a poem or play.

Here’s to the creative visionaries,
to Dickinson's unique and dreamy imagery,
to Shakespear’s highly stylized, run-on sentences
that manage to speak to us over the centuries
or challenge our stifled, bourgeoisie banality
like Nabokov’s use of stunning vocabulary.

Nine Inch Heels

Wearing her nine-inch stiletto heels,
stylized and polished to a high gloss:
she absolutely loves how she feels.

In her high, sexy shoes, she strikes awe
within the hearts of unwary men
who get tongue-tied, as they hem and haw.

Granted, nine-inch heels may seem extreme:
but this seductive siren on stilts,
comes off as anything but mainstream.


In heels, she stands out above the crowd,
leaving some women green with envy:
while for the most part, men are left, wowed.

Poem Noir

Like many, I masqueraded in shades of urban gray.
I offered my love to the midnight neon angel.
I walked the caliginous streets alone and astray.
She remained distant, alluring, always disdainful.

I courted cynicism, resignation, and despair as my style.
I wore tilted fedoras in smoke-filled reeking bars.
I feigned culture and literacy, trying to look worthwhile.
I blush now, recalling my see-through shooting stars.

Like many, I was just a child renting a man’s body.
I impersonated adulthood with stylized gloom.
I thought maturity was an act, so mine was shoddy.
I donned trench coats, my affectation in any room.

My blinking street angel had seen it all before.
My love for her was simulation and nothing more.

Sunbeam Souls

Date:8 October 2020

The Sunbeams pass
slamming the door to a heartbeat.
A generational rejection 
to my face that softens my feet
while I cringe on more notes.

An evolution that has
declined, suppose I curl 
my spine towards
an endless beauty 
of highly stylized  wrinkles.

The more I witness.
the fierceness of my tribe ages.
The angry men that I have raised
as rocks seek my eyes and tribulations.
Take me to a timeless peace.

Dissolving into another,
bridging the breathing has
taught me to harvest better energies
as I pay my daydreams 
until we meet.

I have felt unknown shivers
in these streets.
Raising the parenthood 
of all these teenage feels but still 

he found a way to move into my soul.

Group of Seven

Canadian flag to the wind
virgin coasts to explore
canoes loaded with easels
paintbrushes and pigments

from sea to shining sea
rock islands scattered
nature self regenerates
untouched and pristine

through eyes of an artist
and lens of adventure
jack pines stand proud
their might and their grace

moved and inspired
in national colors
awe splashed to canvas
immortalized pride 

pure wilderness
recorded in stillness
fresh mirror of canadiana
stylized called our own

the timely birth of a
west wind movement
birthe the distinct national art
of the iconic Group of Seven



posted on August 3, 2020

Doodles

I doodle hearts
Because I want some love.
I draw cartoony stars
Because I want a life
Full of shining, defining meaning,
Even more fulfilled by someone
Who seems to have been sent from above.

I doodle flowers
Because they remind me
Of old symbols for girl power.
I draw the best I can,
For I like myself for whomever I am.
I doodle anime-esque eyes
For it is the doors to the soul stylized.

Wishing Star

Like colors seeping through a hazed prism
Our evening talks drift with lyricism-
Sky turns to crepe paper on all dream’s bends
Where ripple of fire-glow lightly descends,
Roaming around your hair in a cluster
Stylized by Orion of forever-
I pull my arms to climb your northern star
There, our flights turn into orbits, lunar
And astral while my body darts to glide;
Till clouds halt a bright trance, I sigh inside.


Contest: Love for Movie Screens
Sponsor: Silent One  dated 2 Oct 2017

Once So Small and Precious

I once was important, folks cared about me, 
Keeping me safe in a special bound book.
And in this book I had perfect stylized sheets, 
Folks would gaze, remember and look

At every small detail that they could see, 
Treasuring the moment in time that I was,
Treasuring the true honest faces all over my skin,
Treasuring me simply because

Their films only held maybe twenty small moments, 
And folks waited for the shop to call,
There was no other way to capture that time, 
Every time I was hung from the wall.

But now I’m replaced with a million small selfies,
The same silly person with the same silly face,
Now I’m so unimportant, forgotten in seconds, 
I’m your small, precious photo remembering a place.

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