"denouement" poems
There is one thing that ought to be taught in all the colleges,
Which is that people ought to be taught not to go around always making apologies.
I don't mean the kind of apologies people make when they run over you or borrow five dollars or step on your feet,
Because I think that is sort of sweet;
No, I object to one kind of apology alone,
Which is when people spend their time and yours apologizing for everything they own.
You go to their house for a meal,
And they apologize because the anchovies aren't caviar or the partridge is veal;
They apologize privately for the crudeness of the other guests,
And they apologize publicly for their wife's housekeeping or their husband's jests;
If they give you a book by Dickens they apologize because it isn't by Scott,
And if they take you to the theater, they apologize for the acting and the dialogue and the plot;
They contain more milk of human kindness than the most capacious diary can,
But if you are from out of town they apologize for everything local and if you are a foreigner they apologize for everything American.
I dread these apologizers even as I am depicting them,
I shudder as I think of the hours that must be spend in contradicting them,
Because you are very rude if you let them emerge from an argument victorious,
And when they say something of theirs is awful, it is your duty to convince them politely that it is magnificent and glorious,
And what particularly bores me with them,
Is that half the time you have to politely contradict them when you rudely agree with them,
So I think there is one rule every host and hostess ought to keep with the comb and nail file and bicarbonate and aromatic spirits on a handy shelf,
Which is don't spoil the denouement by telling the guests everything is terrible, but let them have the thrill of finding it out for themselves.
23.7k
The last candle
About to melt away
Glowing bright
A silent denouement
Flames no more
Only the soot
Remnants of life
Only remembrance
Mar 19, 2015
Mar 19, 2015 at 10:10 AM UTC
ken not the
vive la différence!
entre les deux,
these two bed and head chambers,
for all poets are seducers,
regardless of *** race, creed or color
when first we employ our working, yeoman vocabulary,
we plain start,
to relate but not to regale,
the whom we are,
hoping our moments unique,
will breach the boundaries
of our collective commonality connectivity,
and find human receptivity
thus, the seduction of self commences
though every possible combination of words has somewhere been inscribed and committed, we ****** ourselves
(the seduction of poetry)
with potions of notions that we are and always be our
first, and now soon forever,
yours as well
of course, we are, it's true,
our very own first admirer & lover,
having conquered the hillock of self,
see the universe expanding and the
****** need to conceive
and prowess to please
beyond the beyond with
the poetry of seduction
do not want your body, heart or soul,
commitment, allegiance, vows,
sacred or profane,
all such in vain
crave your everything,
not even a legal nine-tenths satisfactory
dare not call me arrogant or presumptive,
gaze upon the mirror that cannot lie,
rereading thy words assemblage,
and deny to lie to yourself
want you, you want me,
my adoration,
we want to be in
a poem together,
lovers at the molecular level
where words dissected into letters, then again,
into guttural sounds where a simple outcry is an elegy,
a love poem, a wound, a denouement, a preface, a tear,
a welling, a heaving, a sigh, an exhalation, all,
an entrance to where the need for words
is long since past
the sin and crown of seduction completed,
unanimously
now breathe out
and then,
breathe in
Jul 3, 2017
Jul 3, 2017 at 3:54 PM UTC
∙∙∙◦◦•◎•◦◦∙∙∙
Caribbean blue sail's a galaxy
rivers gushing, mumbling for an eternity
reflections of Love forms to thee
Suddenly silence adumbrate
aesthete, A lustful tint of Peruvian trees
petrichor whiffs of earth's virginity
A syzygy that I can't apprehend
but, can fully appreciate its denouement
rebirth of once I fell in love been
Listen to its sotto voce ruffling
preterlabent streams, resplendent hymns
humming grasses cues to sing
Upon the mountain tops hidden
rocks of geos sighting a treasure within
only to discover lore’s of forbidden
Cascading trees whispered a cold
a journey I never knew how to go as told
trap between floras along the road
Propinquity of my eyes closing thin
soul reserved for death, till breath hops in
trodden a land ****** for me to begin
A minstrel with hands like marbles
strung a fiddle of tessellated symphonies
open wonders the eyes never seen
A bouquet of amaranth revealed
the longing heart found someone of new
sighs my feelings and away I strew
Jul 8, 2017
Jul 8, 2017 at 3:22 AM UTC
Ornery odious ordinate ostensive opulence ornate optimal
Motivity meatus meticulous morsel moribund mendacity monstrance
Lucidity lingam loquacity longevous licentious lurid languishing
Votary volition verve venery vector vauntness vast
Talismanically telepathy tantamount terrestrial tellurian transition tractive
Idolatry -ics incus ictus ichor icon icky
Yogi yowl yore yoni yerk yenta yantra
Gimpy gesticulation genre gestational glitch genuflection grandiose
Dastardly douceur denouement denigrational deplorable despicable desperate
Paltry potentate portentous plagiaristic pandemic plenipotentiary plenary
Jouncy jocular jeopardy jettison jurisprudence jaunt juxtaposition
Ramify repartee radix recital rectitude rendition repertoire
Beastly bartizan bodacious belligerent brusque blatant blasphemously
Enmity exigency exacerbation extemporaneous edifice eulogy exoneration
Zoolatry zoomorphic zilch Zephyr zoic zygosity zealotry
Sultry solace subtlety substantiation suborn subliminal sensorium
Unity ultimatum usurping unfathomable uncanny unbridled unary
***** hornswoggle horizon huckster homogeny holistic heuristic
Nugatory notch nostrum notorious nihilism nimiety nimbus
Wrathy wreak wroth wrought wrest wrangle warranty
Artistry autonomy articulation agility acuity asperity acerbity
Keeky kangaroo court kowtow kobold kleptomania kinetics kinesiology
Xylography xenophile xerophilous xylophagous xylem xanadu xenobiotic
Critically credibility critique coercion conjugational conjunctive corporeal
Queasy quasi quantum quintessence quagmire quixotic quantify
Flighty flippant flamboyance faux pas fornicatious fictitious finite
Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 5:31 AM UTC
My Solace
when every aperture is a tunnel narrowing,
a light pin diminishing when nearing,
when the desk drawer yields up unused theater tickets,
for performances concluded yesterday,
when the denouement is nothing new but worse,
revealed in the coming attractions trailer,
when the rusted unborn poem notion is almost done,
but remains unpublished,
for no beginning, no title, can be found,
Then I recall the cornucopia days,
when poems spilled forth like
there would never be a when they wouldn't,
I revisit my old friends, couplets, twins and triplets,
seeded inside every tear, happy or sad,
sweetly and freely,
my old friends, reread,
words rearranged in new combinations,
old poems, plants bearing new fruits,
re-titled all of them, one name,
a collection entitled,
My Solace.
May 18, 2013
May 18, 2013 at 3:59 PM UTC
Finite fictitious fornicatious faux pas flamboyance flippant flighty
Quantify quixotic quagmire quintessence quantum quasi queasy
Corporeal conjunctive conjugational coercion critique credibility critically
Xenobiotic xanadu xylem xylophagous xerophilous xenophile xylography
Kinesiology kinetics kleptomania kobold kowtow kangaroo court keeky
Acerbity asperity acuity agility articulation autonomy artistry
Warranty wrangle wrest wrought wroth wreak wrathy
Nimbus nimiety nihilism notorious nostrum notch nugatory
Heuristic holistic homogeny huckster horizon hornswoggle *****
Unary unbridled uncanny unfathomable usurping ultimatum unity
Sensorium subliminal suborn substantiation subtlety solace sultry
Zealotry zygosity zoic Zephyr zilch zoomorphic zoolatry
Exoneration eulogy edifice extemporaneous exaserbational exigency enmity
Blasphemously blatant brusque belligerent bodacious bartizan beastly
Repertoire rendition rectitude recital radix repartee ramify
Juxtaposition jaunt jurisprudence jettison jeopardy jocular jouncy
Plenary plenipotentiary pandemic plagiaristic portentous potentate paltry
Desperate despicable deplorable denigrational denouement douceur dastardly
Grandiose genuflection glitch gestational genre gesticulation gimpy
Yantra yenta yerk yoni yore yowl yogi
Icky icon ichor ictus incus -ics idolatry
Tractive transition tellurian terrestrial tantamount telepathy talismanically
Vast vauntness vector venery verve volition votary
Languishing lurid licentious longevous loquacity lingam lucidity
Monstrance mendacity moribund morsel meticulous meatus motivity
Optimal ornate opulence ostensive ordinate odious ornery
Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 5:48 AM UTC
Aquiver mellifluous ineffable hiraeth nefarious somnambulist epoch sonorous serendipitous limerence bombinate luminescence ethereal illicit petrichor iridescent supine aurora solitude syzygy phosphenes oblivion ephemeral incandescence denouement vellichor eloquence defenestration Sondra effervescence cromulent cellar-door debridement
Illustrator icon verdant cerulean aeneous albicant amaranthine azuline argent chartreuse damask ferruginous haematic hyacinthine ibis ochre primrose russet sanguineous virescent mystborn transcendence
Mar 20, 2015
Mar 20, 2015 at 10:31 AM UTC
resuming vogon poetry
altering website logos
pretending everyone cares
playing "east hastings"
asphyxiating well-nigh denouement
depicting twitter status
obfuscating coincident deletions
translating from Sḵwx̱wú7mesh
assuring Sḵwx̱wú7mesh exists
painting skwiḵw's mother?
decrying micropolitical maelstrom
imbibing fireball fountain
inundating lexical foofaraw
crafting poetic wonders
desiring other mediums
remaining practically invisible
ending internet-only depression
drafting noetic blunders
requesting astute clique
blazing perilous trail
aging ominous grisaille
depicting kmart realism
seeking darker groups
increasing pre-weekend laughter
appropriating communist symbols
making lone chuckle
offending worldwide communists
colonizing hello poetry
colonizing parallel universe
relaxing e-migration policies
пить чистую водку
photographing abduction scene
¿losing consistent format?
increasing bluebird insignia
avoiding frivolous legalities
striking astraphobic comments
assuming near-universal automation
lowering latent inhibition
traversing oneiric plane
laxwadding afebrile loodies
wallscaping pitchsourced chthonicities
closing one-star conveniences
sharing alien-looking alphabet
writing system downtimes
Sep 13, 2015
Sep 13, 2015 at 7:42 PM UTC
On Fridays, I cannot have you.
Though the faraway look combs through the glances, the heads lowering and longing
On Fridays, I cannot have you.
The icicle street of perturbing yellow parallel lines and molasses traffic that seems to rake the people across pavement into curvatures of avoidance keep me running.
On Fridays, I cannot have you.
I repeat it, a gesturing phrase, recurring, as I watch the transcendent glow, a denouement to a one-sentence story.
On Fridays, I cannot have you.
Could have: (What will save the moment in untickable preservation?)
On Fridays, I cannot have you.
Oct 18, 2013
Oct 18, 2013 at 1:09 PM UTC
This was written a few Septembers ago. Walking on the streets of a now deserted beach island, only the leaves, in various states, to keep me company.
September,
walk with me,
under bridges of wedding tree canopies,
still green aplenty,
tho subtle marked for change,
making summer illusions,
environmentally unsustainable.
September,
stroll on pathways
of lesser, off the track, shaded lanes,
the sun blocker trees wear new necklaces,
brown and yellow diamonds,
a coming attraction of
their denouement,
their denudement.
The September trees are:
Ever so slightly stooped,
bent with weight of a surety,
knowing with high certainty,
their future, bleak,
bowed and drooped,
discouraged by the
cold travails soon to arrive.
Living in the recent past,
I am dressed inappropriately,
white tee and shorts,
past pretender,
still dressed in my
Gap issue summer uniform,
summer suspended animation.
Island streets are de-humanized,
gone home are the children,
newly fallen leaves have,
their place, taken.
The leaves are:
magically organized along
the sidelines of empty streets,
quiet stadiums of would be
kid's touch football fields.
browned, crisp and soulless,
first greet this solitary stroller,
like a cheering throng of ghosts,
celebrating a sighting -
man, as a seasonal fossil,
one that still is living
and worth reminding, yet
human too shall pass when
his fall arrives.
the leave's cheers make over
into jeers and mocking laughs:
Oh humans, they say,
your summer songs naive,
mais tres charmant.
On Crescent Beach,
the driftwood sadly forlorn,
looking more adrift than ever,
for no one passes to express
admiration at the past seasons
Nouveau Expressionism,
an objet d'art lonely,
for the beach gallery shuttered,
raising questions existential.
Is driftwood on the beach sans
human admiration,
art, truth or refuse?
I am looking backwards as the
Earth moves forward.
My own axis, my eyes,
conscientious objectors
refuse to be pressed
into service of the seasons.
No, no,
to involuntary servitude,
to rotation and revolution.
Nature's witnesses,
trees and leaves write
their own poem,
of foolish men who:
Bow and droop,
discouraged by the
travails soon to arrive,
Delaying their own fall,
finally shed summer delusions
like leaves upon the ground,
summer poetry silenced,
summer suspended, no more.
Dec 7, 2013
Dec 7, 2013 at 8:06 AM UTC
To be imbued with the conviction that empathic listening is a panacea,
by the surreptitious, murmurous harbinger and his mellifluous words,
provoked brooding that my comprehension of his susurrous eloquence was a mondegreen,
when this scintilla of sagacity left a fetching ingenue crestfallen.
By the surreptitious, murmurous harbinger and his mellifluous words!
I adopted a propinquity to this furtive, ephemeral epiphany,
but when this scintilla of sagacity left a fetching ingenue crestfallen,
I discerned this lagniappe beleaguered our dalliance.
I adopted a propinquity to this furtive, ephemeral epiphany.
When she became inured to petrichor I knew my method pyrrhic,
and when I discerned that this lagniappe beleaguered our dalliance,
I vowed to rectify the imbroglio for my quintessential cynosure.
When she became inured to petrichor I knew my method pyrrhic,
and I ruminated that her insouciance was only forbearance.
I vowed to rectify my quintessential cynosure of the imbroglio,
and fabricated a denouement to return her to halcyon incipient.
I ruminated that her insouciance was only forbearance,
until hearing her state our conflation made each a moiety of our own panoply.
She fabricated a denouement to return us to the incipience of halcyon
with ineffable felicity, and I remembered with ebullience my inamorata's words.
Hearing her state our conflation made each a moiety of our own panoply
provoked brooding that my comprehension of her susurrous eloquence was a mondegreen.
With ineffable felicity I found ebullience in my inamorata's words
and was imbued with the conviction that empathic listening is a panacea.
Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 4:58 AM UTC
Wanted: her words!
Her inspired, breathless,
Sighing words
Needed for motivation
Desired for an elixir
Of broken hearts and corrupt minds
Wanted: her words!
Her mellifluous panacea
Breathing life into the inanimate
Defining the undefinable
And finding felicity in the fugacious
Wanted: her words!
Her intransigent, sagacious,
And judicious lyrics
Publicly educating and passionate
Privately life's denouement
Her words are wanted
May 15, 2013
May 15, 2013 at 7:51 PM UTC
I was supposed to be working on a project
But my mind is adrift
Thinking of you and its logic
Tell me now, what is the denouement
Should I hang on or let it slip
Knowing that this will only take us
Nowhere,
But in circles and disarray
Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 2:50 AM UTC
Acquiesce here my love
Ameliorate my heart
The assemblage of circumstance provides dulcet ebullience
An efflorescent dalliance conflated into cathartic becoming
My bucolic bungalow made upon your callipygous
A young Life’s denouement
Your evocative elixir fetching
An erstwhile emollient embrocation
Your eloquent fingers find their way to frisson
My felicitous chatoyant gambols in glamor like a halcyon incipient made ineffable by the look of the ingénue
The labyrinthine inglenook lagoon leisurely lithe
The murmurous daffodils wink at the insouciance of your beauty
A panoply panacea, the half shadow complete as an epiphany
Quintessential to feminine riparian resplendence
Your mellifluous voice, an opulent offing, the sumptuous summery soliloquy of an angel
Cools my soul like the smell of earth after rain
Your propinquity ripples the scintilla of my spirit
Your surreptitious smile like a zephyr quietly whispers
Its redolent seraglio sempiternal in my thoughts
As skyward gazes like saccharine gossamer lilt with the knowledge of our raveling juxtaposition
a masterful pastiche, the cynosure of divine revelation
Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 9:25 PM UTC
It's alienation across the nation.
End of the break
the whistle's blowing
The sailors going only a short way
to heavens
Subterranean souls, yet
extraterrestrial minds
(I want to have a magnificent, celestial time)
Someone is dead
True, someone might be
curled in dread, somewhere
But the staff chooses not to
voice these concerns
to their guests
They-are-all
transported
to a place where their veins
don't show up blue
under that black light, yellow
dans-le-ciel
It's a dalliance for souls
(They are all lost.)
A denouement for souls
(How much does it cost?)
Better question,
who sends them here
(Every zephyr is cold)
who sends them here
to die and behold?
If I had a friend
they would ask,
"Why so alone?"
Because I move with the
Tintinnabulation across the nation.
People saying the most
cringe-worthy---
Like the nation
I fear I have become
an imbrication
repeating myself in every
application
Working on that steamboat
the-band-wagon
isn't as good as it gets
Saccharine, summery lake
Do we, perhaps, need to escape?
And, perhaps, we can.
Dominated as we are
by Society, who is crying in need
Believes we must be a
panoply!
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 4:34 PM UTC
He is tall, with piercing eyes only for me.
Eluding false confidence.
His soul yearns for togetherness.
Togetherness, once found with me.
Once in love,
But I only carry him now.
We all have someone like this.
I loved him, still love him, and think of him often.
He comes with me everywhere.
I wonder if in my days I will pass him, and if I do,
What will I say?
I remember his face so clearly I can see it every time I close my eyes
And drink that tea he loved.
My life goes on, nuances once unnoticed now keep my wondering mind occupied.
But if I know he is close
Or it is raining outside on my dark drive home.
On a wine fueled rampage.
His memory leaches out my pores almost into my breath
But I stop-
And I call him.
But he hasn’t answered yet.
What if I just show up at his doorstep?
Everything would be okay.
I’d give him the warmest hug he’s ever felt,
Even though he doesn’t want it.
We all have someone like this.
I just hope that on his drive by the beach we first fell in love,
He’s sitting,
Waiting
Wishing
And carrying me too.
Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 10:14 PM UTC
An open eye, a time of misery,
The sound
of the Earth,
An ear to the cacophony.
The sight of unanswered questions.
An odour,
of the fragrance,
of beauty,
without reason.
A smell of,
souls waiting to be sufficed,
a state of havoc,
and melancholy.
A touch of hope,
A feeling,
so vague,
so soft,
the lenience of the soul.
A thought to the weak.
A taste of fire,
the ash to the walls,
of endless arrows,
of words, with no meaning,
but of great value,
and unending power.
Smoke, the denouncing
of denouement and demise.
A treat to the senses,
A flash of truth.
It is my cue to live,
Living a lie.
This is my time,
My lovelorn morning.
Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 3:28 PM UTC
From touch, sight, smell, or thought
The onslaught of ecstasy
Quivers and tingles inside of me
Gingerly waiting
To fulfill the pleasures promised
By *********** or ************
The denouement to frustration
The sensual culmination
Exploding and calming
Aggression
Restoring possession
Of reasoning faculties
******* with
A warm and gooey
Satisfaction
Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 7:19 AM UTC
I have a heart full of cement
Solid... Permanent
I've sang your lament over and over again
But every song has the same intent
Like something permanent.
I regret not having a patent on your scent,
Or the way your teeth are bent or broken.
Like at some point a decent person
Had a cruel accident
But, against your jaw
..........A fists descent...
...To punish you..........
And forever augment that one percent of you.
I don't know the intent of the event
But, I do know you underwent some hell
To get to me, in our present
But, that doesn't matter my gent
My denouement is becoming distant
...you are here...
And there you went.
But, our two souls are water and powder
We create cement...
Permanent
Aug 8, 2017
Aug 8, 2017 at 9:01 PM UTC
Ina's pregnant, I am bored
Grace and Eric mute behind me
On the street two floors below us
Standing water, hissing tyres.
Two more hours of this, I'm thankful.
Endless meetings, glassy eyes
Homeward bound on lighted transport
Rain-streaked windows, dark outside.
Weekend coming, confused feelings
Clean the flat and iron the shirts
Talk to no-one, poolside vigil
TV meal and early night.
Is this it? The final curtain
Did I know this at that time?
Regardless of the closing sentence
No repeating, only rhyme.
Nov 8, 2012
Nov 8, 2012 at 4:03 AM UTC
I shouldn’t have eyes for you,
What ripples do you cast?
I would describe you in 100 words,
A sempiternal love elixir isn’t necessary,
I would hold the umbrella because your dry palms deserve to be held in my hand.
We could live nearby a lagoon,
The petrichor would be perpetual.
In the off seasons we could migrate to a bungalow,
The mellifluous of the wooded area would strengthen your leisure time.
During our elder years we could rest our days away in a lighthouse,
The scenic view of the offing would be the denouement.
Revamping the future is the main goal.
Don’t act demure around me,
Be you around me.
Soon, I will susurrus “I love you.”
Oct 4, 2012
Oct 4, 2012 at 3:55 AM UTC
Demagogues of our society; daftly delivering
disarming delusions of decrepit delights.
Dealing in powder, rock and liquid death,
demurely doled out in droves to the
willing unconscious, dysfunctional deviants
of the land.
Blindly offering devotions, flaccid devotions
to plastic, white collar deities; giving new
definition to internal deformity, through
decelerated dejection.
Desperate and emotionally dismembered,
defrauded by quick, cheap decadence,
debauchery, and mental decay in many
deliriously delicious forms...pick a flavor,
name your poison!
Delegate your defect, as those with
doctoral degrees in defunct traditions
do deviously delineate their demented
designs...for our future.
DejaVu?
Perhaps, but in fact, it is we
who sniff, inject and drink up their drivel,
decidedly and dutifully depleted of
intellect by way of dubious data.
Duplicitous dullards...sanitize and
deodorize their fiendish lies...as we,
WE do nothing!
Not enough of us dumbfounded or
dumbstruck by their deceitful smiles.
Full of dread and deep dismay, by
the statutes of the day...I, for one,
will dream of better days, when we
shall defeat these diabolical demons.
But for now, down beaten, downtrodden;
we will continue to be denigrated for
the duration.
Clever dissection; dumb as they want you
to be,
disparity of all creativity...individuality...
and all of your rights...controversially.
Our disgruntled displeasure doomed...to
fall on dormant hearts...and we,
debilitated and daunted, lives dismantled,
are now forever haunted, by our freedoms
demise...by days we could question
their smiling lies.
Demagogues; Big Brother...such delinquents
dosing up the masses with a deluge of powder,
rock sedation and liquid elation...pick your flavor,
name your poison.
At the end of the day WE are ONE...duped,
defaced, defeated...and to continue on this
road, our final denouement will come
disturbingly disguised...as DEATH!
-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights
Aug 10, 2014
Aug 10, 2014 at 3:40 PM UTC
The sleep sentence ends in a period of vivid imagery.
The ****** is how the end of the dream resembles reality.
There is no denouement, but always something to be learned.
The conclusion is always the same. Awakening, using what has been
Experienced in the dream to influence the journey in life itself.
Wondering, what are the purpose of dreams? It is not a question that is worth pondering.
Walking the tightrope of lucid dreaming, risking the fall into consciousness.
Opening of the gates to hell from confinement, losing the battle to find meaning.
Crying for the dream to return, left in hopelessness, despair.
Reality is the ***** of life, and dreaming is its procurer.
Constantly controlling the outcomes, the path of life is always forged
Between the forests of dreams.
Dec 14, 2009
Dec 14, 2009 at 5:21 PM UTC