Vociferous but most unkind, this bee's bead has seen the vine, and grapes of wrath shouldn't press, those enemies are gone unrest, so honey bee procure the honey the bee's bead is filled with funnies and molded impish sleuths so steer like ambling with forest deer, and bee's do gather round this bead, to celebrate and eponymously greet.
vociferous Vicky was a boisterous ghost
her sounds were loud and proud, just ask her host
clamorous drums were her instruments of choice
she frightened my cousins and my Aunt Joyce
Joyce had bought this haunted house “for fun”
these obstreperous sounds had her on the run
She wanted to move out and in with some of her kin
But we all said no, fearing we would let Vicky in.
It's eleven fifty five.
Just five more minutes till midnight.
They seem to last an eternity,
seconds halting in the shimmering veil of your eyes.
I can see an endless line of amber streetlights in them
and I know you're looking at them in mine too;
beacons that flood our hearts,
beckoning the road towards tomorrow.
The black night silence carries a vociferous mind,
too many thoughts and emotions and what ifs unanswered.
All the regrets are dust,
settling mutely into the shadowy gutters.
I know you haven't yet slept,
I know we're both still staring at a screen,
watching as the clock ticks over to 00:00.
Maybe it's inane to stay awake
for what is there to wait for?
If I was as much to you
as you were everything to me
then remember us
but do not yearn for us.
If the night still holds warmth for you,
if it ever did,
then let it go, before it freezes.
00:01
In Catsville,
delighfully fragrant,
a musky moggy croons.
Reverb resounds
as lyrics drift
"Sugar and spice
"and all things mice!"
The Siamese star harmonises
with vociferous vocals
"Gimme Gimme Gimme
a cat stick at midnight".
amid the tender purring
of a somnolent feline.
The vociferous George
So, here we are, it is ten in the evening
And I have my glass, nay, glasses of red wine
I'm thinking of George Galloway, who
I must say he has mellowed since he left Britain
His voice is less strident; this evidently
caused by his love for his wife and living
Abroad is culturally good for him
But do I detect a slight drift to the right
barely noticeable, but I have noticed
Could it be because he is influenced by X
that some of X, readers have made him
a moderate? No, I refuse to think ill of him.
Cat was very nice to mice:
If asked for cheese, replied,
how big a slice?~ My honor to
please! --
Was also fond of backyard
birds: Wonderful! Marvelous!~
his admiring words.
Now dog, was a bit more ornery...
he barked a lot, even at the laundry --
protector of all, in that way true~
a tinted greyhound, who answered to
Blue --
Though some may doubt, lower critters
can actually speak! Perhaps, likewise suspicious
of my Chattering Creek….
--------------------------------------------------------------
There once was a Chattering Creek,
Mostly happy but sometimes bleak;
for the rains would come, and stir
such a clutter, causing the waters to
ripple and stutter; the edges would leak --
voice, more a holler! A vociferous flow~
Splattering! Splattering! Splattering!
Till a breathless slow – dearer klatsch-like
chattering~~chattering~~chattering~~
A coronation, watched by our entire great nation,
Some with trepidation, others boisterous jubilation.
Trump feted, his fawning family silhouetted,
Basking in his light, his confidence and might.
This Grand Old Party, it's followers vociferous and hearty,
Anointing their chosen man, to rule their ever-growing clan;
No harm to love a cause, giving thought and sometimes pause,
To what this passion brings, the words the siren sings.
Whereas strong leadership is good, it can be tainted just like food,
For democracy renounced, cannot then easily be found.
Let’s be careful what we wish, lest it be a poisoned dish,
Our founders crafted choice, beyond just
one resounding voice;
Autocracy is not a word, that in our Lexicon is heard,
We must vigilance ensure, for our country's story to endure.
Unity the dream, but like salmon in a raging stream,
Needs fortitude and grit, knowing when to fight and for the greater good, submit.
The redamancy flowed from within,
jumping down the line,
the nacarat sun;
blinding the ones alive,
listen to the canorous sounds;
blowing in the wind,
even though they are flagitious,
their nature seems forced,
how vociferous they can be;
lacking intrinsic will,
dripping with such disabuse,
we are fairly full of commination;
thus, we must sashay in the other direction,
the dreadful dream of flying free,
receiving nothing, yet staying fain;
their misery is effable at best,
dropping left, flipping right,
their beginning was left behind;
deep within the past of time,
any and all forgetting their Elysian minds.
He's poised at the threshold, ready to husk flight.
His limbs are tense, and he seems to be in a plight.
A deep pit awaits him below, as the sky is limitless.
The time is here for him to fly away, vociferous.
As he descends, he feels air rush under his wings.
His voice vibrates in his head, and he wants to sing.
The high tide lifts him up, and he glides effortlessly.
Falls on a daisy and swallows its nectar querulously.
His time here is short since he must find a mate.
Is a sewer topic on his mind, and he sees it as his fate.
From above, he gets a glimpse of her. He must try.
To tempt her into their erotic dance, as he has to die.
Akin to actors on a stage, everyone moved as one.
Their summer ballet is depicted on a paper pen.
Earth's Chronicle has gone down over the years.
While he is dying, she lays her eggs yet no tears.
Written: May 27, 2023
“Love needn’t be very eloquent. It calms down into silence as man and wife grow old together with sweet memories of the years gone by, which speak to them more vociferous than words” ~ By poet
Years rolled by in silence
With the ease of clouds drifting away
Sometimes as waves pounding the shore
They walk, along the much-trodden path
The same grass beneath, the same gravel
Emotions surge and die in their hearts
Careful of every step, they trudge
Sometimes lean on one another
Two birds fly past them
Their eyes are simultaneously riveted
They move on, hardly uttering anything
Basking in the warmth of silence
Among them words are redundant
Their cataract eyes reflect
A clear sparkle of contentment
Hardly visible to an outsider!
They move on with waves of memories,
Of all the years gone by, knowing quite well,
Life won’t be the same as before,
In the twilight years, but they see clearly
The stars beckoning them
In lustrous luminosity from a distance!
May.5.2023
Entered for Brian Strand Premiere No. 1217 Poetry Contest
~ Placed Second~
Writing Challenge- ‘Y’ Words Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Constance La France
Just on the cusp of experiencing joie de vivre,
the triumvirate of Crooks and Quade
figuratively swoop down
to announce re: inspection
of apartment unit B44
whenever they deem appropriate.
Thus series of unfortunate events
(linkedin with bull limey
Lemony Snicket bro)
got sidelined nsync with
contracting a minor bout
with deadly Amish Flu
symptoms found garden variety reasonable rhymer
bedridden feeling a little horse and buggy (ha),
incapacitated to craft signature poetry writing.
An honest to dog confession
regarding hiatus spewing forth
vociferous versatile vocabulary
mine words - worth their weight in gold
(told woofer I do not know), nevertheless
included perusing a gamut of reading material.
The passion to engross intellect
witnessed courtesy immersing
attention, concentration, excitation
gratification, intoxication;
knowledge prized more precious
than fine spun gold.
Likewise crafting (albeit painstakingly)
elusive notions that flit
to and fro hither and yon
(analogous to ping pong ball)
within parameters of
microscopically crenellated
sixty plus shades of gray matter
also constitutes fervent interest.
Mellifluous her soothing voice
Each word sugar-coated
Like sweet honeyed candy
Luscious and mellow
In her gentle dulcet tones
Flowing sweetly and melodiously
Lyrically euphoniously
Unlike his loud flamboyant tones
Oh such vociferous sounds emit
Until he heard her mellow words
Smoothly ~ gently her voice doth calm
Written 16th September 2021
Contest 'M' Contest New Poems Only
Sponsor Constance La France
FIRST PLACE
Contest A STRAND 1060
Sponsor Brian Strand
FIRST PLACE
How pleasing to us are the quiet of the country lanes.
The vociferous extrovert chaffinches sing their refrains.
Remember how often we would trek the lonely paths
Occasionally they find some rill and have their baths
So common all over earth since they love to migrate,
Flying happily but from birds of prey quickly elate.
Their natural habitat is the woodland where they can rest.
Their songs communicate in different suggestions best
But especially when the mating seasons begin.
How lovely to listen songs far from the city's din
SHATTERED SCREAMS
ECHOES OF OUR SILENT SCREAM,
TORTURE FROM A LEADER'S STEAM,
DWINDLING OF OUR NATIONS DREAM.
WE CHOOSE TO FIGHT AS A TEAM,
OR WATCH THEIR THEATRICS LIKE A FILM.
IF WE FIGHT, OUR VOCIFEROUS WEAPON IS HUSHED,
IF SILENT, OUR FUTURE IS CRUSHED.
TOLLGATE IS NOW THE BLOOD GATE,
WHERE HEROS OF JUSTICE LEARN THEIR FATE.
OUR VOICES ARE STRANGLED,
WE'RE MANHANDLED LIKE A STAR SPANGLED.
THE PILLARS OF OUR STRUCTURE IS FALLING.
WHO HURTS HIS CHILD AND FLOGS HER FOR WAILING?
RELEASING THE CAMOS, WOLFS IN DIRTY SHEEP'S CLOTHINGS
AND BLACKMARIAL TO HUNT DOWN CITIZENS.
INTERNAL TERROR SUMS UP MY ANALYSIS.
NIGERIA, YOUR ACTS DABBLES & DAGGERS MY HEART.
WHERE IS THE LABOUR OF OUR HEROS PAST?
OUR RESIDUE IS IN THE DEN OF THIEVES,
AND THE OLD CERTAINTY OF THE FUTURE HAVE BECOME MERE "IFs".
VickManuelPoetry {VMP}
Copyright© 14th Feb, 2021.
(translated from the original language into English by the author.)
A Klingon Lullaby
Die with dignity my savage child son
My warrior at the battle station ready
Bring honor to the Empire's name with pride
Kill everything not Klingon, everything in sight
With Bat’leth thrashes and knives slicing backs
Sing lullabies to curdle blood, to freeze the soul
Rock enemies from their graves back to the cradles
Cry loud vociferous curses at the moons of Kronos
Let your voice be heard inside the Council halls
We live to die so hold your shield up high
I will scream you a Klingon lullaby to make you cry
It is a song of love and death and beating of the breast
To be one of us you must be alive before you die in battle
tlhIngan
bIHeghchugh qo' Law'Qo'
SuvwI' loDnI'pu' moj ghaH.
juHdajdaq QongmeH qo' ghaH juHDaq
Qo'noSDaq chenbe' tlhIngan
moDtaHvIS vangtaHvIS 'ej tlhu'moHtaHvIS
navDaq ghotpu'vaD neH lutoblaHbe'
che'wI' wa'netlh chutmey
QI'tu' pagh, Qo'noS pagh, QI'tu'
yejquv vaS DaneHchugh, vaj qo' Hoch batlh.
tugh qabDaj wIpeghnIS
jInIDqang 'e' vIHarqang, tlhIngan Hoch vIjaHlaH
muSHa'chugh vaj muSHa'bogh HatlhwI' je
Suyep DaqeqnIS
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