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Best Poems Written by Thvia Shetley

Below are the all-time best Thvia Shetley poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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The truth about women

Bestowed with femininity,
     wisdom, elegance, and grace,
 exemplifying dignity, 
     daughter of the human race.

X chromosome integrity
     ordains attributes endowed,
according by propensity, 
     a nature kind and proud. 
     
Beauty and vitality
     anoint her noble gender,
magnum opus artistry 
     imparts celestial splendor.

Her marvelous complexity
     gives complementary disposition
to valiant masculinity 
     for a perfect coalition.

Exquisite physiology
     yields licentious pleasure due
the wanton sensuality 
     of erotic pas de deux.

Magnificent hologyny,
     woman becomes by thy behest,
sacred vessel of posterity, 
     with honor ever blessed.

Copyright © Thvia Shetley | Year Posted 2010



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Ode to spring

The light breaks free from winter’s bone
to cast its warmth; to life atone,

to warm the dark; to thaw the chill,
to synthesize through chlorophyll,
a dormant seed to resurrect,
and coax a soul from introspect.

Awake! And breathe the wafting spice
of lilac buds and wild rice,
the lavender; the orange puccoon,
the sweet of honeysuckle bloom.

An overture, the sparrows sing,
to celebrate the oeuvre of spring;
while wind and weeping willow dance
to promises of new romance.

Come alive! Draw in your breath,
let winter die a noble death.
The seeds of yesterday are strewn;
it does not do to weep and croon.

If you seek, so shall you find,
as true for darkness as divine.

Copyright © Thvia Shetley | Year Posted 2015

Details | Thvia Shetley Poem

A golf limerick

While a man was golfing in Fife
a funeral cortege was arife,

       his head bowed in prayer
       at this somber affair

to pay last respects to his wife!

Copyright © Thvia Shetley | Year Posted 2010

Details | Thvia Shetley Poem

A jaded man

The sting of shattered trust
fills his veins with toxic spite,
contaminating his heart. 

He finds solace in a bottle,
quenching his resentment,
slurring forth caustic fumes;
nauseating his liver.

Until he spits her treachery up
with a sickening heave,
in the shallow, murky gutter
of a jaded man's reprieve.
 .


Copyright © Thvia Shetley | Year Posted 2010

Details | Thvia Shetley Poem

Wrongful conviction

Sweetened dung is shoveled down
gluttonous throats with eager appetites for
alleged misdeeds skillfully spun
into a frenzy of sensationalized hype
by media-seasoned reporters.
.
Seduced by speculation and hearsay,
a jury of pseudo-intellectuals assembles
neatly with moral turpitude tied
smug and tight around rigid white collars
stained heavy with sweat and anticipation.
 
She stands alone as the eyes of
the court pierce through her appraising
her posture and expression while
the echo of charges being read dissipates
with the smell of type ink and old mahogany.
 
Fragments of truth embellished
for shock-value and dramatic effect
spill forth as vomit
from confessional mouths
reeking of rot and fermentation.
 
Vulturous prosecutors rise in fluid
motion squawking accusations in
expert execution of closing arguments, 
pecking apart flesh, unconscionably
scattering the meaty bones of her defense.

Copyright © Thvia Shetley | Year Posted 2010



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Sawney Bean, legend of a cannibal - written in broad Scots dialect

Thar was nae richt ae laddie sair
wha heft a cave 'side Galloway,
wi' nae jaiken he griftit dare
as he was nae tae lippen tae.

Ill-naitur'd  fishwife he haud in wi',
the twa 'greed tae gang the'gither.
She haud her tryst, an' haud her wheesht,
his ill-duin vext her wi' nae dither.

Wi' dirk in hand at howe o' nicht
in fu' ambush thay lay waitin',
skilt o' fecht an' breukin' neck
grantin' flesh for desecratin'.

Than brochten hame an' ne'er spill
tae weil wi' kale an' roastit wean,
for Clootie's gut,  ae meal an' yill
'afore wan cotchit Sawney Bean.

King James the fourth heard o't a'
an' sent oot four hunner men
tae scour the Heid an' gaither a'
o' Sawney's unco clan.

Tae Tolbooth Gaol, than aff tae Leith
whar nae mercy wad be seen
wi' sic brutality tae bequeath
at the quarterin' o' Sawney Bean.




Rough translation, not nearly as poetic!:

There was a crazy, angry man
who inhabited a cave near Galloway
with no skilled trade he dared to grift
and he was not to be trusted.

An ill-natured fishwife he gained in favor
and the two agreed to marry.
She kept her word and held her tongue,
his ill-doing did not bother her.

With dirk in hand at midnight
in full ambush they lay waiting,
skilled at fighting and breaking necks,
granted them flesh for desecration.

They brought it home with nothing wasted,
to mix with kale and roasted child.
For the devils gut, a meal and ale,
before the capture of Sawney Bean.

King James the fourth heard of it all
and sent out four hundred men
to scour the Head and gather all
of Sawney's notorious clan

To Tolbooth Jail, then off to Leith
Where no mercy would be seen
with such brutality to bequeath
at the quartering of Sawney Bean



GLOSSARY:

nae richt- mentally unbalanced (literally 'not right')
heft- to settle or establish a dwelling place
nae jaiken- without a skilled trade or craft
griftit-to use dishonest or illegal methods for personal gain 
nae tae lippen tae-  not trustworthy
haud in wi'- obtained favor from
gang the'gither- unite as in marriage (literally 'go together')
haud her tryst- kept her word
haud her wheesht- kept her silence
ill-duin- wrong, perverse or ill-behavior (literally 'ill-doing')
howe o' nicht- midnight
Clootie- the Devil
ae meal an' yill-a traditional dish, served with whisky or ale, consumed at celebrations
wan-one
unco- strange, notorious, extraordinary
quarterin'-  punishment by severing the hands and feet (and usually genitals) resulting in a fatal loss of blood.

Copyright © Thvia Shetley | Year Posted 2010

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Peat-whisky dreams


Evening finds ascension
on a red grouse wing;
the brilliant copper sky 
fades to twilight beam.
 
 
It wafts the weathered flora
of a season’s ending term,
as young skylarks soundly sleep
in the nearby bracken fern.
 
 
The purple hue glints playfully
on a steep highland muir,
with lovers lying blythesome 
on the fragrant heather floor,
 
 
their drunk love on crescendo
with a piper's distant drone;
sharing peat-whisky dreams
amid the summer’s final gloam.




***********************

Copyright © Thvia Shetley | Year Posted 2013

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The poet and the jester (on embracing duality)

It is the conversation
between the poet and the jester.
The poet- with solemn introspection;
the jester- with careless regard,
each captivating the other.

It is the ultimate irony
of this unlikely coupling,
entwining their words,
combining truth and mischief,
sabotaging established decorum.

Neither threatened nor contrite,
nor challenging the others' wisdom,
but with enthusiastic fornication
and eager indecency
they consecrate their mutual madness

Copyright © Thvia Shetley | Year Posted 2010

Details | Thvia Shetley Poem

When Scorpio Goes Dark


Antares' red glow bears firmly down
upon plush, chartreuse carpet
lying prone against the obsidian expanse,
blanketing sections of a remote 
blue sphere, purling,

spinning helplessly 
through distant time and space;
slave to routine and rotation,
never daring to break free; 
to reach out.

Scorpius sprawls low 
across the Autumn void;
a celestial corpse 
twinkling, twitching; 
inexplicably still breathing, 
expelling the last 
of her precious plexine light 
in a final, desperate act

to awake inspiration, stir passion,
proffer wholeness and healing
to an infirmed, ungrateful planet,
for her end-of-reign recession.

Projecting dreams; visions 
like swirling Akashic holograms 
leaping forth from ancient pages 
of ethereal records,
all but lost to time and apathy.

Twisting snakelike through the cosmos,
her broody gaze steeling
in every direction; 
fierce energy bombarding; 
burning across the universe.

Intense joules bursting forth;
reaching out to nurture
willing universal souls;
scorching those who reject her,
turning them to table fodder 
at a divine banquet 
for dark gods.

Sagittarius flickers jovially behind
as if breathless with laughter;
taunting, frustrating,
staying just out of reach 
of her vengeful tail.

The rule of Scorpio wanes
upon Orion's horizontal breach
extinguishing the sting-ed cluster;
quelling her tumultuous surge
until late-spring pains 
rebirth her fires,

igniting them, emerging again
from the icy chasm 
of black oblivion.

Copyright © Thvia Shetley | Year Posted 2017

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Banter in the bedroom

The cares of the world waft away like
the vague images of a forgotten dream  
when he climbs into bed beside me.  

And my comfort is found in the warmth 
of a slight up-curved smile relaxing across 
an unshaven face tickling me with a
hundred kisses as I squeal to his delight.  

A calloused hand urges the small of
my back gently forward as I fuss in 
mock protest of his boyish game.  

His eyes gleam indulgently making my 
heart swell with such regard I 
choke back joyful tears and throw 
my arms possessively around him.  

With a knowing sigh he draws me in, 
cradling me in his capable arms 
sworn to provide and protect.    

Then he buries his face in my copper-red 
hair breathing its henna scent, and 
holding me tight, he whispers my name,
swearing love that will never relent.


  

Copyright © Thvia Shetley | Year Posted 2010

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