Botticelli takes a warm bath.
Springtime in arcadia,
The Grace chicks are a threesome.
I tend to ignore the other stuff that's going on.
For triplets
they each have their subtle differences
The girls are demure,
yet they seem to be hoofing a sexy gavotte.
We need a Maypole,
I guess the Italians outnumber the English
in Elysium.
They are as soft as a pillow dream.
I wonder if they ever pillow fight -
a pajamaed affair designed
to arouse Pan and all his
goat faced minions.
It's lambing time
and the ladies
are bouncing merrily.
One day I might take note
of what else is happening
in the painting,
pull it all together
with a few well-chosen observations.
Probably, even then
there will be some odd twigs,
or bendable twists of green
I can't weave together,
no matter how hard I try.
Categories:
well chosen, poetry,
Form: Free verse
RESONANCE
Small words can always mean a lot
Whether they’re well chosen or not
Like items on a market stall
Believe me, resonance is all
Inspiration fits like a glove
When verses are expressing love
But sometimes it’s like bitter gall
Believe me, resonance is all
A word may just cause a schism
All beats have a certain rhythm
Like echoes in an empty hall
Believe me, resonance is all
When awareness has arisen
All that matters is to listen
Get the message and heed the call
Believe me, resonance is all
Categories:
well chosen, words,
Form: Rhyme
A Kiss In The Dark
You light up in the darkness
With the Heaven woven stars
In velvet tones of stillness
I calmly watch; night is ours.
Chill wind swirled rhythmic chanting,
Cocoon those well-chosen words,
Pleasing closeness, enchanting
A taste of natural bloom.
Closed eyes met a world of dreams
amorous scene into dance
A kiss in the limpid dark.
Warm silence serenaded.
Categories:
well chosen, autumn, romance,
Form: Free verse
The charm of a well written love poem
Can actually bring one to tears
Well chosen words conveying your feelings
Of love but also your fears
Fears that a loving romance will fade
And become so very routine
To keep love alive must remember each day
Show her how much her love means
Show her by all the small things that count
That prove she's a special lady
The one you've chosen to be with forever
No ifs, no ands, and no maybes
Amazing how they keep the fire burning
Small things that mean so much
Things that may seem unimportant to some
As simple as a gentle touch
Don't get me wrong, I'm surely no expert
When it comes to the secret to fidelity
But after many years of studying about love
These things are written indelibly
The charm of a well written love poem
Can actually bring one to tears
Chosen words that promise love forever
Through all of the coming years
Categories:
well chosen, love,
Form: Rhyme
Never sacrifice meaning for a rhyme.
Hmm, I think that chicken could use some thyme.
Check the connotation, not just the sound.
A carefully chosen word is a hound.
Ev'ry stick you throw will come back to you
My next trip is the Andes of Peru.
Categories:
well chosen, humor, poetry,
Form: Couplet
Whether a trip to a sister's funeral in Chicago;
Or another trip to Los Angeles for my aunt's funeral;
Or a slow ride to a family reunion in Chicago;
Or a 'Bucket-list' trip to an NFL game in Kansas City;
Yes. It seemed that most rails I took led to Chicago.
It's true. Several times we never left on a jet plane.
There were some great train rides, long and slow.
There were five time-consuming and memorable rides,
Sharing a dinner table with a mother and child;
Or a conversation with two unforgettable strangers.
The Great Salt Lake and breath-taking sceneries,
Including dark rides through narrow tunnels;
Roadside stops in small American towns; Great
Views of the Colorado River, and lots of friendly
Waves from a passenger train called The California Zephyr.
The California Zephyr is a well-chosen and defined name for
a train that served us well. Indeed, it was like a gentle wind
blowing from west to east. There were 58 treasured hours
spent alone with my lovely spouse as we ate enough almonds
for a lifetime and some very expensive snacks.
Categories:
well chosen, adventure, america, travel, vacation,
Form: Narrative
Disarmed
Bullets fall silent
against words
well chosen
Their caliber
muted
— the target on fire
(Villanova University: March, 2024)
Stuck In Gear
Motion
not an absolute
The world
is never still
Inertia
tries to write the law
Where stop and start
are nil
History
at the speed of light
Consensus
in the math
But standing
here
While stuck in gear
— the notion leaves me flat
(Villanova University: March, 2024)
Before The After
Don’t bog down
in research
Spontaneity
the thing
Truth
is most elusive
And joy
a passing Spring
In flashes
of an instant
What’s timeless
will appear
Thinking often
kills the goose
That lays
— both far and near
(Villanova University: March, 2024)
Deafening Silence
Things most often named
before understood
Then never renamed
for the bad or the good
‘Particles of light’
we now know as waves
But ad infinitum
their reference stays
A ‘Tablet of Paper’
consisting of sheets
Two ‘Bolts’ of lightning
fused Franklin’s belief
A ‘Softball’s’ still deadly
meant to careen
And ‘Deafening Silence’
— spurs wonder indeed
(Villanova University: March, 2024)
Categories:
well chosen, poetry,
Form: Rhyme
The charm of a well written love poem
Can actually bring one to tears
Well chosen words conveying your feelings
Of love but also your fears
Fears that a loving romance will fade
And become so very routine
To keep love alive must remember each day
Show her how much her love means
Show her by all the small things that count
That prove she's a special lady
The one you've chosen to be with forever
No ifs, no ands, and no maybes
Amazing how they keep the fire burning
Small things that mean so much
Things that may seem unimportant to some
As simple as a gentle touch
Don't get me wrong, I'm surely no expert
When it comes to the secret to fidelity
But after many years of studying about love
These things are written indelibly
The charm of a well written love poem
Can actually bring one to tears
Chosen words that promise love forever
Through all of the coming years
Categories:
well chosen, love,
Form: Rhyme
It’s wonderful and rare to laugh
Or smile for two hours straight.
It happens when you get to see
A comic who’s first-rate.
Last night we joined the audience
At New York’s famed Town Hall,
Amid the crowd of fervent fans
Who follow Robyn Schall.
Her comedy is special
And to everyone appeals,
As the funny stories of her life
She jokingly reveals.
By interacting with the crowd,
All thrilled to thus engage,
She extends the warmest welcome,
Calling some up to the stage.
With a few well-chosen videos
Security* provides,
We are treated to an inner self
That Robyn never hides.
For full disclosure, Robyn is
The daughter of dear friends,
Yet seeing her perform
My fair and square self recommends.
We all need laughter as the world
Gets grimmer every day.
“The Robyn Schall Experience”
Makes all that go away.
*Security is what Robyn calls her brother
Richie, who helps with her shows.
Categories:
well chosen, appreciation,
Form: Rhyme
The charm of a well written love poem
Can actually bring one to tears
Well chosen words conveying your feelings
Of love but also your fears
Fears that a loving romance will fade
And become so very routine
To keep love alive must remember each day
Show her how much her love means
Show her by all the small things that count
That prove she's a special lady
The one you've chosen to be with forever
No ifs, no ands, and no maybes
Amazing how they keep the fire burning
Small things that mean so much
Things that may seem unimportant to some
As simple as a gentle touch
Don't get me wrong, I'm surely no expert
When it comes to the secret to fidelity
But after many years of studying about love
These things are written indelibly
The charm of a well written love poem
Can actually bring one to tears
Chosen words that promise love forever
Through all of the coming years
Categories:
well chosen, blessing,
Form: Rhyme
Poetry explores feelings felt by you,
whereas compatible hopes are compared.
And well-chosen words pave pathways anew
as dreams and experiences are shared.
Whereas compatible thoughts get compared,
poetry is a means of connecting.
As dreams and experiences are shared,
your heart gains more than you were expecting.
Poetry is a means of connecting;
viewing reality through open eyes.
Your heart gains more than you were expecting;
your talent comes as a pleasant surprise.
Viewing reality through open eyes;
poetry sheds light on what's in the dark.
Your talent comes as a pleasant surprise,
igniting embers with a sentient spark.
Poetry sheds light on what's in the dark,
and well-chosen words pave pathways anew.
Igniting embers with a sentient spark,
poetry explores feelings felt by you.
Categories:
well chosen, emotions, feelings, how i
Form: Pantoum
Giant poet gem, Tagore’s story-poem: NISKRITI,
Is a piazza perched paved and perfectly paced beauty;
Scale model of a castle of vast poetic kingdom,
That has spread into an empire of Indian wisdom!
Manjulika is a dew-drop in the mighty ocean,
Of the land of Bay of Bengal where feminine gender;
Fulfills wants of men as mother, wife, daughter and labors,
Less fulfilled of subtle cravings, in her heart she harbors!
Nucleus firm; Malabika has solemnly sung it,
Narration, like roots, stems, leafs, flowers, fruits of plants well-knit!
Images complex extract emotions, expose like day light,
Questions of destiny hang, like stars in dense dark sky, bright!
Figures of speech, like hand-picked coffee-seeds, well chosen,
And like gems and pearls in an ornament, fairly woven;
With stones of words and verses flat, oval, blunt, round, pear, square,
The edifice erected here is stern, solemn and somber!
05 December 2021
Inspired By A Translation Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Malabika Ray Choudhury
Categories:
well chosen, gender, life, women,
Form: Rhyme
Love has died, but I still try,
A bitter sweet love leaves a sting inside.
Your reasons for leaving were plenty,
As for me, I had so many.
You gave me beautiful roses of red,
Love hidden behind their meanings misled.
Sharp thorns have made me realize,
That a gift can come with a painful price.
My wounded heart it still beats,
It needs to have faith when it seeks.
When new love is found my heart will heal,
But his rose's thorns they attempt to kill.
In pain while holding them tight I bleed,
My heart is once again unsheathed.
Well-chosen tears falling from my eyes,
This time I wont let my roses die.
Vickie Hurtt-Thayer
Categories:
well chosen, break up, feelings, hope,
Form: Rhyme
Why do we sing as we shed our years away?
Time weeps for none.
Why do we bring flowers to a funeral?
The dead cannot see them.
Why do we cry at a wedding?
There is no sadness there.
Why are they so intertwined,
Tragedy and Ceremony?
Why do we feel the need to fill our grief
And joy with ritual?
Before, I never understood.
Now the reason is painfully clear to my heart.
The final Ceremony is a well chosen last word,
A last sign,
The ribbon on the gift,
The period at the end of a phrase.
It completes the tragedy.
It finishes one story so we can begin another.
Without Ceremony, too much is Tragedy.
Friends, family, classmates, lovers
Leave each others sight
One last time.
With Ceremony, we know this is the last time,
We can prepare, we can grieve in advance,
Knowing what is to come.
Without Ceremony,
The end comes suddenly,
Painfully.
Ceremony is a speeding train.
Tragedy is a bullet in the back.
Ceremony is a speeding train.
You see it until the last moment.
Tragedy is a bullet in the back.
You never see it coming.
Let none ever fray the bond of
Ceremony and Tragedy
Categories:
well chosen, beauty, celebration, time,
Form: Free verse
I dreaded it when I hit the age of waist band stretch.
The choices I have are butterflies with glitter; they make me wretch.
Can you spell dumpy and frumpy? Because now I can for sure.
Fashion designers have excused themselves from old women mature.
Sure, we are slower, but are we less wise in the head?
Do we want to wear navy and black for years ‘til we’re dead?
I look at my choices. Where are the oranges? A purple or pink?
The fact is that in woman’s world, my options pretty much stink.
I see the size two’s and three’s and fours, and I want to wear them.
They are colorful and sexy, I think as I cough up my phlegm.
I see no linens, no waists, nothing fitted or smart.
I leave the store gladly, exiting with a well-chosen fart.
I want something sensual, colorful, and fashionable too.
The best I can do is a two-toned high-heeled shoe.
Where are the fashion designers for women of distinction like me?
I walk to the next store, where the selections are identical, I see.
Categories:
well chosen, woman, women,
Form: Rhyme
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