Manifesting thee-
thou new December,
let joy and peace be
the last month's ember.
Glowing from the fire
of chances and luck,
taken as a trier,
by hearty risk, buck!
I lay dead alive,
in high anxiety,
on how to survive,
not by my piety.
One thing, I know of-
is my faith's prowess,
holding up above
emotional cuss.
That would sink grievance,
of chance not taken,
driving luck's deviance
to reawaken...
Good luck and fortune,
repairing this year
wornout misfortune,
not to reappear,
But bring on blessings...
meant for this year's grace,
out of gloom's dressings,
running out of chase.
Amen!
Damn it the planet’s on fire
Concerning..right down to the wire
Burning on its funeral pyre spire
I’m for turning.. where’s the messiah?
A heavenly choir…so we can aspire
That learning will finally inspire
An endless yearning desire
Of spurning this friendless quagmire
Discerning things are rather dire
Churning of the palaver and ire
Mother nature does surely tire
Should be the crier & trier
Of another returning frequent flyer
Corporate pariah..or so called high flier
Deranged global warming denier
You can tell its hotter...getting dryer
The climate’s changed.. you liar
Mining anything shining..find a buyer
All about earning..will just retire
With their bounty…a comfy county squire
Or dicey fiscal rascal friar
Got devious egregious previous & prior
Pampered dining on pricey lobster & samphire
Us out of luck..stuck in the muck & mire
Tampered temperatures soaring higher
But no ruck ..chuck the entire earth in the fryer
They’ve scampered…we’re hampered in the briar
Does appall …no truck with their gall…yet remain a complier
Insane what they pluck.. yet we all still call them “Sire”
Was here yesterday morning, disappeared this afternoon
Gone a certain aegis, like the wearing off of perfume
See nothing can last forever, time elopes with esprit
Winds of change unchangeable, mother nature’s a banshee
I don’t want to think about tomorrow, no… not just yet
Trying to cling onto some zeitgeist, it fades I forget
Memories and pictures pique me, dreams I can second guess
Moments are all but snuffed out, building up to more duress
Coming apart at the seams, disintegration follows
My need to retrieve zest, pukes up bits I cannot swallow
I’m just a trier who failed, however that’s not the point
Takes a man to face his losses, sorry to disappoint
And in the end we all know it, life’s our true living hell
Next week I’ll be back in heaven, to its one prison cell
Good luck and lots of merriment, we'll miss you on the beat
The thought of you will cheer us through the kiss of summer heat
The work we do is hardly true to people in their plight
The human zoo we answer to is all we dream at night
We hope that you enjoy the ride that real people mention
Until you find the joy inside is free of our detention
The hopeful dream of happiness that happened just for you
Is now the nod of emptiness we share at eighty-two
The hopeful vice of paradise is what we really need
A joyful slice of something nice inspired by our greed
The plucky price of lucky dice is worth another spin
The fire you acquire is a buyer with a sin
You're a doer we admire, with a zest for cresting higher
So your quest, for the best, must invest you with desire
You're a winner, not a crier, and you always were a trier
If you soar, out the door, then you'll always be a flyer
Thank you, Shar, our old friend, for the time we had was great
Like a star, to the end, you did more than hesitate
With each bar, that we bend, is the path to share your fate
From afar, we pretend, that you care enough to wait.
A new car is in serious trouble,
Its worried owner worrying his stubble
A helpless heart is on fire
No longer sure The Devil is A liar!
Unmistakable tears of a crier,
At a still far off market, a buyer
And through accursed routes A Trier.
New dreamy wishes of a road drier,
Upset by his left front tire,
Already in a manacling mire…
Some tomorrow a flying car or car-flyer
Marcus Garvey you were a trier, but never destined to be a king
Easily made a fool of, if only you had half a brain, you could win
Famed by your own notoriety, ideology based on incompetence
But; you've not gone through history, without acknowledgment
Giving birth to Malcolm X, who in 1965 dreams were shot down
Martin Luther King, another black, whites didn't as want around
Where Bob Marley's assassination attempt, rumored by the CIA
Black's standing up for their rights, never to see the light of day
Muammar Gaddafi, taken out on the orders of white supremacy
Opening the borders to African blacks, he's shown no clemency
I tell you I've met God in my dreams and he is not flamin' white
When he reigned before me, black, black as any moonless night
At ten, I have composure to maintain
At nine, I know the chance is all but mine
At eight, I beat back fears and thoughts of a one-eighty
At seven, I am at sixes and sevens
At six, I draw my know-how and pull all of my tricks
At five, it is lose or win, die or survive
At four, all my strength is brought to the fore
At three, I am careful and carefree
At two, I am at point of no return but follow through
At one, it was easier said now it’s done
At zero, I am either a trier or a hero
Inspiration -- poet's desire
Struck by lightning, pen now on fire
He roams the world, for it to seek
To catch a glimpse, a tiny peek
Of its bright flame, leaping higher
A poet's quite a hard trier
As he sweats over words and tires
Just to write as smooth as he speaks
Poet's desire
O, for a sweet musical lyre
Words that sing, a heavenly choir
For his verse is lacking mystique
As it's so much more than technique
Inspiration's hard to acquire
Poet's desire
July 21, 2019
Rondeau Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Charles Messina
Trump Forever Will Fume
In room in Mira Lago Trump will fume,
And he is an idiot who likes to bloom;
In each place,
A basket case;
Each day deeper does appear his doom.
Jim Horn
Write some poems using these
words below.
acquire ecclesiastical attire
bier brier buyer choir crier
denier desire dire drier empire
entire expire fire friar higher
hire inquire liar mire prior
require retire sire spire squire
supplier tire transpire trier
vampire wire
There’s far more kinds of Lefty than just one.
There’s Marx and Morris, Blanc, Bakunin, Blum,
the Comintern, the Spartakists, the POUM,
St-Just, Zinoviev and Saint-Simon.
The working class may ask how this lot failed it:
so many brands, but nobody is buying.
So why’s the Trot from Trier death-defying?
Well, Marx explained it, ascertained it, nailed it.
The Gradgrinds have their Hueys and Husqvarnas.
A self-sufficient paradise is nice,
(if beri-beri lets you live on rice),
but who will bring bikinis and bananas?
We’re trapped inside the capital machine,
and drip-fed baseball, bingo, Benzedrine.
kom bak again,
we all have it,
time after time,
different bodies,
different crimes,
all the con-men,
put-overs, pirates,
in Nigeria born again ....
wonder where they come from???
special talents i contend,
and their numbers growing higher,
a special kind of trier,
even Fowls can see the trend?...
Don Johnson
Wanted:
human that fits following description
I am a riser
I live to fulfill all of your needs
I am no run and hider
I am a pusher
I am a fighter
I am a get out a’liver ~
I will take your darkness
I will make you lighter
I am strong enough to stay your demons down ~
I am a trier
I will get low with you, that I may lift you higher
~ An army could not keep down my desire ~
Sunshine Williams
Who owns the child?
the one who has no place.
Is it The One Track Minds?
Who only listen the themselves?
Is it the recovering addict?
Who caused all the pain?
Is it the uncaring trier?
Who knows not a thing?
Is it the Loving Light?
Who gave all he had?
Or.
Is it the trapped memories
Torturing her inside?
Karl Marx house in Trier.
Know you where it is,
Abode of wisdom today we live,
Renown for industrial change?
Labour unite...still remember the say?
Man! It is a place to be,
Athenaeum of global change,
Rare to find in somewhere else,
X-rays of wars on man and growth.
Herein philosophy lived,
On the table under the tree he wrote,
Uniform of the legend intact in’robe,
Spoons and forks that fed the brain,
Excellent works of yester years.
In the anthology photos speak;
No to exploitation is all they say.
This environment beauty to behold,
Roman empire relics here and there;
In Karl Marx house in Trier,
Eyes have many to learn:
Respectable mount of thought.
THE HECK WITH YOU
THE HECK WITH YOU
I’M GOING TO LET DOWN MY HAIR
IN NEUTRAL ANY TRIER TO PARE
WITH A STRING WHEEL OF PARTS
THE SOUND OF MY ENGINE IN DRIVE
WHILE YOU BACK UP WITHOUT A CARE
I’VE EASY YOUR MINE
WITH EVERY PIECE I’VE CHECKING INSIDE
TOUCH THE GREASES FEEL
AS YOU PUT IN YOUR HEEL
I KNOW YOU’LL BE BACK
PUTTING IT UP HIGHER
JUST TO CHECK THE OUT LINER
THERES NOTHING REALLY
WRONG WITH YOUR CAR
YOU WANT GO THAT FAR
THE HECK WITH YOU
I’M GOING TO LET DOWN MY HAIR
NOW YOURS IS TUNED UP
BUT I’M STILL HERE WITH THE HOOD UP
ONE DAY I’M GOING TO STEAL YOUR HEART
AS YOU DRIVE AWAY WITH EVERY LAST PART
THE HECK WITH YOU
I’M GOING LET DOWN MY HAIR
AND GIVE YOU ANOTHER TUNE UP
HOPING YOUR ENGINE DOESN’T STOP
I’M GOING STEAL YOUR HEART
AS YOU DRIVE AWAY WITH EVERY LAST PART
BY Shawn Jones
03/04/09
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.