Tactfully Poems | Examples

Three Magic Rocks

         I hold three magic rocks in my hand
         rolling them over and over and over
         leaving reality  behind, far behind.

       I will throw those one by one
       to fulfill three wishes and
        to use thrice too tactfully 
        so that my wishes get honoured.
         throughout my life time.

       I know well, as I will throw one,
       one wish will be over.
        So my first wish will be
         to wish the most right wish,
          so that no scope to be left
           on wrong choice.

        Second wish will be 
         to proceed being righteous.
          Throwing last rock, I will wish
          three magic rocks to get back.

All I can do!

Because that is all I can do!
Influence the little spheres where I have presence!
A little space for all my voices!
Voices that speak choices,
Choices that direct violence!
Violence so benevolent,
benevolently left for your choices!

Because that is all I can do!
Speak truthfully in all ways,
Weigh what is on my mind,
and temper it with the wind.
And wind up my mind,
into blissful smiles!

Because that is all I can do!
smile in confidence,
And confidently style my stance,
And smile at your glance,
Gleefully like in a trance,
and dance like it's my last!

Because that is all I can do!
sit patiently in silence,
Silently observing my audience,
and patiently saying less,
Tactfully without a mess,
and nod in acknowledgement!
Even when your paths are perilous!

Because that is all I can do!
no more than the next,
text all that is said,
and memorize the best,
messages you all  endorse,
and bless endlessly!

Because that is all I can do!
be genuinely present,
giftedly in your audience,
and nolstage your essence,
an indepth escape,
with all outcomes endless!
Because that is all I can do!

H

Tint Of Orange

Ecstatic eye of night
thoughts tangled tangent
tint of orange moon
slivers were just hazy
incipient learned launch
as the querulous quirk
indented ingress idly
still desperate to capture
though less likely
lavishness connoting mood
human forest focal point
I dream in dribbles soppy
though never flagged yet
as  futile aspiration amid
hues strictly night bound
might benefit wistfully
when strident slumber
indigenous to townscape
has its muted rippled
riddle not tactfully
resolved due to blind
daylight  tinctured template
aroused by the clangour
of mint medley lure of
Arcadia circus dangle
of inchoate promise known
as crystal carrot jewellery
box whose flecks fly a riot
before the milling  cluster
who wantonly wonder
at collapsing fortress inside
whilst rugged resilience
that tower block of prime
revitalised  endeavour bent
on a fantasy forage with
disposition a pointless block
though underbody wobbles
if left without the widest
custodial watch of the self
one might be elated finally

Taken

Tender toes,
Treading tentativly,
Taking time, 
Trying tactfully. 
Tendons tremble,
Tension tightens,
Tilting, Twisting, 
Tripping, tumbling!
Terror. Trouble.
Touching totality.
Tomorrow. taken.

Museum Of Masked Faces - First Draft

On synthetic derelict stage of deception domain,
I gyrate the split mind, ensnared by bipolarity chain.
Under illusive limelight of ostentatious time, 
I’m entangled in machinated invasive paradox prime.
In make-belief life’s drama I act with no compunction, 
I face fabricated faces flocking redundant in conjunction. 
Identity lost in conglomerate of counterfeit facades,
I don’t perform by heart's prudent prompt if it pervades.
In masquerading faces reflected in warped mirror, 
I see concealed the contorted contours of rancid rancor. 
With their phony pretense a conciliation role I tactfully play,
my misshapen face of spite, the actor in me doesn't portray. 
Finding a fake place to subsist in pretend archival spaces, 
I’m a configured antique in the museum of masked faces.

Song of The Red Wolf No 8: ABAB

Chinese medicine, thus hope is reduced,
albeit, it doesn't apply to Red Wolf.
Canis rufus, a deep southerner roost,
with southern hospitality, aloof,
unlike others of their kind. Family
oriented, bone structure limits brain
size ... small, seventy-five pounds ... tactfully,
per agility, standard weight. Ingrain
habits, eventually, were for naught
as they became extinct in the wild, when
local ranchers had mauls on their livestock,
they were rounded-up and confined. It's been
during World War II days. They've been restored,
it's back to the wilds, for the unexplored.

Priceless

Today on our morning dog walk in the hills 
I use my wife  
for a role she’s supremely suited for, 
a reflective foil for my own psycho-analytical musings. 
And with her just uttering a judicious word or two 
I discover this; 
 
figuring out which comes first, 
impulsive or compulsiveness, 
is a bit like the chicken or egg question, 
but since it’s obvious it’s the egg 
I’ll hazard the guess, compulsion comes before impulse 
(the habit to act and respond to stimuli). 
But then before or more basic than this physical reflex 
comes a general disregard for taking things seriously 
(the emotional attitudinal coping mechanism if not skill), 
which in turn is based on the most basic ground of ignorance; 
willfully ignoring consequences, situational awareness, and thus reality itself. 
 
Here I discover the root of the problem. 

I thank my wife for her silent session, 
and she, tactfully, doesn’t respond 
by presenting a bill. 
 
At this point my running tab is approaching infinite. 
I think they call that, “priceless.”

(6/24/23)

Oblivious

When you’re here I am oblivious to the cold, I feel warm.
When you are around, I am oblivious to the raging storm.
It just makes a nice ambiance for us to snuggle you see.
It doesn’t matter if you burn the toast, it tastes good to me.

Some overnight visitors have tactfully told me you snore.
This is news to me, my darling I am oblivious once more.
When you fail to offer help when I am quite snowed under,
I never seem to mind, don’t care, I keep my thoughts asunder.

Grass so long, as one walks through it, may be afraid of snakes.
But I am oblivious to the little amount of effort mowing takes.
Also oblivious to the state of our car when I take it for a drive.
I pick up the food and shoo out the flies, the ones that are alive.

I am so glad for the word oblivious, and it’s Constance I must thank. 
I may not have thought of this word if I hadn’t opened my think tank.
Imagine if Oblivious became I BLAME YOU, what would I have thought?
It might get so serious. Our next destination would be a divorce court.

Self-Existent Light

Clumsily checked for the switchboard to put on the light
whence I suddenly caught a ghost at mirror sight; 
Promptly like a lizard I hugged the wall really tight
which modestly stood startled toward my right;
Fretting and sweating I counselled my might 
for the sake of convincing the spirit dressed in white;
And somehow tactfully managed to flee away from any horrific bite.  
Ouch, somewhere deep within my insight 
embers slowly kept leaping forward to ignite;
Now while sitting down to write the experience met tonight~
I realized abruptly that it's all nothing but self- existent light! (conscience)

7 June 2023

Submitted to: Self-existent light Poetry Contest
Sponsored by unseeking seeker.

Four Cafes

    The four cafes, bordering the canal, sat eerily still this January night.  So often they seemed to blend together but on occasion any one of them could become a little more rowdy, and tactfully competitive - making the view a little more interesting.  I would watch from my apartment window as their personalities were expressed through music, each displaying their own version of laughter and unique aromas defining their menus and all, oh! so heavenly.  I watched with envy as couples danced and caroused on the festooned decks that laced the water’s edge and I’d sway to the rhythmic pulses rippling in the water's reflection. 
   But on this evening, I watched as each sat in silence.  The haze of fog had settled just above the canal’s waterline, slowly drifting in rhyme to its flow, deepening the stillness.  I was filled with a sense of sadness.  Each empty cafe appeared to be waiting for someone... a friend maybe, possibly a lover?  But no one came. It was an emptiness I knew well.   

loneliness lingers
in an ominous silence,
still waters quiver

Terzanelle

Triplets five, one quatrain,
Together, nineteen lines,
twined interweavingly,
thus repeating lines; rhymed
tactfully, precisely,
The rhyme scheme's like a chain;
Tough to compose, but fun.



01.20.2022




syllables checked with howmanysyllables.com

For Joseph May's "Write about a Form" contest

Alphabet On Display

Abominable Aborigine
Boycotted Baltimore’s Bakery
Canady Canola’s Cannery
Decoded deceitful debauchery

Endless energetic energy
Forwarded farmyard frolicking for a fee
Geographically greeting in Germany
Hardcopy happiness hee hee hee

Ignoring ignorance illegally
Juicy juggling juggernauts
Kettledrums, Kenya and Kentucky
Livening up our literacy
Maniac madness in a manatee

Nightingale nips so nervously
October’s ocelot obviously….
Paralyzes Petunia Parkway’s parenthesis
Quaking quail quickly qualifies me

Relaying relative radioactivity
Scapegoats and scarecrows so scantily
Treat Tajikistan twice tactfully
Undermining Ukraine’s utter ukulele

Vaporizing various vanities
Wicked Washington warrants wisely
X-rays xylophones ‘xtra-instantly
Yellow jackets yield young yearly
Zippy Zeus’s zesty zoology zings with zeal between you and me.

Childhood Summer Album

Since my childhood, I love summer 
It wakes up in me a dreamer.
The luring bells of the ice-cream seller,
Made me gaze for him at the street corner
Till noon, across the fields, used to wiggle
Enjoy lunch with granny’s spicy mango pickle
Sidling along the rows of swishing trees 
Running after humming dragon- flies
Picking plums tactfully from thorny bushes
Wondering in the widespread lushes
Rolling on the dunes of soft sands
At tranquil brook, collecting shiny shells
Dancing merrily in pre-monsoon rains
Vying with friends for the white balls of hailstones
Sleeping in the midst of the lawn
Enjoying the sweet breezes of Night queen
Listening to the epic stories of mom
Under the canopy of stars that gleam
Eyes running through the maze of stars
Drooping slowly into deep slumbers


The Good Old Days Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mystic Rose Rose 
Date: 16-01-2021
won: 8th position

Rst

RAIN
                                        rapid rain recurred
                                    riders rushing recklessly  
                                       rinsed running ramblers 

SAFETY 
                                       sudden storm surges 
                               sailing ships searching  seaports 
                                       survive safely soon


TREATMENT
		                          trace total trouble 
                                       test temperature timely
                                           treating tactfully


Let the Pens Flow - Alliteration Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Jenish Somadas 
Date: 19/07/2020
placed : 2nd

Let Iran Live

Let Iran live
 
Those who want a war in Iran, ought to look
At the people in the street, shopping laughing a good time is had.
Millions of them will be killed and maimed by war is as idiotic as it is senseless and solves nothing. Other
than giving more power to the Saudis and the elephant
in the room which tactfully not mention.
I ask Europe not to give in to” a coalition of the willing” you
Plant bombs, kill people on others behalf
And call it democracy.
If you do the retribution will be endless

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