"jollity" poems
Time is in your pockets,
Hurry up and light the rockets,
Put your emptiness in the sockets,
Spread smiles and add jollity to the list of dockets,
Make a wish today, and wear your lucky lockets.
Feb 14, 2015
Feb 14, 2015 at 7:46 PM UTC
Tired with all these, for restful death I cry,
As to behold desert a beggar born,
And needy nothing trimmed in jollity,
And purest faith unhappily forsworn,
And gilded honour shamefully misplaced,
And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted,
And right perfection wrongfully disgraced,
And strength by limping sway disablèd
And art made tongue-tied by authority,
And folly doctor-like controlling skill,
And simple truth miscalled simplicity,
And captive good attending captain ill.
Tired with all these, from these would I be gone,
Save that to die, I leave my love alone.
4.7k
I bring Vitality
That who Faint
And in Jollity
The war Acquaint
~
They can Understand
My whole Night
For the Land
Thou shall Fight
~
With my Light
Have no Fear
Future is Bright
Trust my Dear
~
You have Lead
Not for Long
There are Greed
For the Wrong
Odin is Proud
Valhalla awaits You
In a Crowd
Sees the True
~
With no Flu
We will Feast
Hint a Clue
For the East
~
Be the Fist
Of the Lust
Make a List
For the Just
~
Do not Entrust
Be in Despair
Is a Must
To be Fair
~
With no Flair
They will Lose
Show no Care
Bring the *****
Mar 10, 2018
Mar 10, 2018 at 1:19 PM UTC
the spirit of morning becomes I
awakening and filling in the very deep soul within
with laughter and light
with jollity hugs tears
with passion and kisses
I am the awakening
I am the glad surprise
a tiny creature
powerless and yet still arise before flashing rays
learning to rejoice with all
in the universe
with all tribes of sea, land, and air
awakening at the very first moment
when the moonlight kisses the light
dancing
with laughter
jollity and blushing
sparkling the delight
with love and cherish
then I again realize
~ the spirit of morning becomes I
....
May 4, 2013
May 4, 2013 at 5:34 PM UTC
All the glitter and the baubles and the fake razzamataz,
Forced jollity and bonhomie berating me by turns;
The jostling and shoving in the shops and all that jazz,
The same unwanted present where the giver never learns;
And I will dream of summer, tidal ripples in the sand
An evening's float of thistledown adrift in hazy sky
The small face of a daisy, lying cool against my hand
The vast coastal horizon, where the seagulls swoop and fly.
You can keep your holly wreaths mourning your lack of taste
You can keep Sir Clifford, all the mistletoe and wine
You can stuff the turkey, lay the hangover to waste,
You can keep your sentimental dreams, leave me to mine...
Just let me dream of summer, how I miss its warming light;
The soothing breath of lavender, the grass beneath my feet;
The bright palette of verdant greens, the shorter hours of night;
I'll deck the halls with roses, daffodils and meadowsweet.
Nov 16, 2011
Nov 16, 2011 at 3:51 AM UTC
My desire.
To swim with dolphins, in the warm roll of the sea of dreams.
To touch their shining silky skin.
Perhaps, I could be a dolphin too.
Tossing in the tide.
To roll from the darkness into the light.
To wave at the moon with her most blessed flippers.
As congenial dorsal fin slides her way through the waves.
She frolics and plays as she scoots through those waves.
That rover, this lady of the ocean.
Flips out in jollity, as over the waves she travels.
(c) Livvi
Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 6:27 AM UTC
*canst poor smile
amid world in bad-shod fit
writ's a-fire
pardon season's ire*
bring'st forth jollity and smiles aplenty
ne'er plaintive be of the sad woe of man
lift high-sky the bless'd, one and seventy
mind scant the fo'c's'tle head in deadpan
floweth into desires flowers of merriment
push upon life gladness; poem of joy-bright
exult all forms of joviality and rejoice on
cheery-heart to amuse and glide to skylight
be curs'd with melancholia; fry all the frowns
ring in goodly-humour and make-it-all-bright
drown dips of despair and banish the downs
expel the heartbroken-ideals; deport skint-lite
what befits the real-feel to true equal-match
face with beck-n-call smile belies wake-latch
(fake)
S T - 29 sept
Sep 29, 2013
Sep 29, 2013 at 2:56 AM UTC
Illuminating eyes,
Pulsing hearts
Rigid arms,
Skittish lips
10 fingers
in her hair
4 hands
that wander everywhere
A boy and girl
Who long for another
Lost and headstrong,
Full of anguish and mixed feelings
On top of the world,
Jollity in the air
1 brunette shy & misleading
1 blue eyed boy who's captivated by her
satin petals in his palm
lilac color in her hair
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 9:37 PM UTC
Fighting dimensions that are not real
Virtual hatred virulent viral.
When man grows up
Something happens . . .
Some apathy kicks in.
*(Moon spits its half-light in greenish gobs and smites my ashen shame
No, dunno where to hide my life
Lame with wide-eyed horror)*
Telepheric jollity and catherine-wheel of fun
Like a mist . . .
*Equation of hope / /
M a n k i n d
=
Kind man* . . .
S T, Sat (in)Auspicious 17, 2013
Aug 16, 2013
Aug 16, 2013 at 6:06 PM UTC
For Marianne, a woman with an unusual heart
I know her, perhaps by a pinch of night air,
Because we share the same music, same voice that night in Guadalupe,
After a day of toils for hearts climbing upon ladders, unending stairs.
I know her, perhaps half of those golden strings,
Because we share the same air of jollity that day in Enchanted kingdom,
Gasping for air, breathing faintly, yet enthralled by the twists and turns of magic.
The heart most tried is the strongest, like the gold tested in fire,
I know her.
I know her, perhaps the fullness of the orange moon,
Because we share the same water under the canopy of azure skies, that brief reprieve the El Nido offers,
Sharing the same tongue of honesty we speak that night, I respect her.
I know her, perhaps more than she knows herself,
But that’s an unforgivable lie, indescribable it is to fathom a woman with an unusual heart,
Because hers, speaks of metaphors.
May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 at 8:15 PM UTC
Imagining yourself a one true love,
know
these are lunatic lies
arranged in the sky to wile away
the monumental guilt that tessellates stony relationships
You're a young man
starting out- there's
heroism on minor scale
a dreamy-eyed smouldering
some sense of discrete self-evaluation
a modesty of taste
I am some madder
version of who nobody should be
amoral, unkind, with nothing to redeem me
save the love of ragged street-dogs, and the owning of books.
Why fall into togetherness,
as if it were an easy game, to arrange in terms
of size, splendor, jollity, dice?
And that done, why pretend nobody loses?
At least admit to feeling lost.
You're
memory
of a silhouette walking
to me
you're as real as this poem is.
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 3:29 PM UTC
Spacemen, cavorting, ridiculous jollity,
Fuzzing stars buzzing in the fabric
Space-time, folding, holding on
Spin, seven, nine, four,
Okay,
Just try to hold on.
Spinning lights flee by feeling
Hurry on Sunday
Slow
Circles.
Why? Why?
Why?
Why? Why?
You have no air.
You didn’t listen.
You had a warning…
Strap yourselves into the spin
Dazed and conned
Fused into your seat
Dancing in madness
Whistles, flutes and shakers
Unsettle your
Muted rhythm.
We sing for blessed distortion
Then drop away
Away
Who did
and
Why?
Why? Oh, God…
Bridge.
Wonder threw four bidden streets
and re-jet, the Prince Palls,
Ash on faced the walls.
Bridge.
Why? Why?
Why?
Why? Why?
Causes her arm.
Cause is her harm.
Cause is arm.
Arms are the cause of her harm.
Then-
Bridge.
Then-
Begin again…
You should not have done that.
Feb 15, 2012
Feb 15, 2012 at 5:03 AM UTC
I wanna die beside the sea:
So peaceful there, so calming…
There will I end - no one to see
But Mother Nature, charming.
The waves and gulls a-lulling me,
The sand my flesh embracing,
No one to judge, no one to blame,
No one to pass the sentence.
I’ll reminisce about the days
Of jollity and laughter…
My shroud - a veil of golden rays.
A happy ever after…
I’ll be the froth, and she’ll be I -
The cycle never broken…
What bliss, O Sea, by you to die
And leave this world, unspoken!
Apr 10, 2019
Apr 10, 2019 at 3:53 AM UTC
*Jollity and merriment are gone.
Cherished joy is a memory.
I shall be happy again
when God wipes tears away.
...*
May 29, 2013
May 29, 2013 at 7:55 PM UTC
Running trees and sun rays,
wind brushing and pressing on to my skin
Saline taste, that will be with me, always.
But a genuine smile will be a sin.
Yes, I am almost there,
where i found myself,
where i found them crystals, so rare.
Before that i was hidden in the shelf.
My sorrow and pain will wash away,
the second I touch that ground.
The power of the mask will be tamed ,
and the masked people will be astound.
Loving people and their vibes.
The epoch of my past will be revived.
The fruit of jollity, again, ripes
And the agony resigns
But something scares my heart.
The goodbyes.
Will I be able to start again after the depart?
Would I have to, again, live in lies?
No! My mind is ready to take it all.
To absorb the pain of the departure.
It will sure be a hard fall,
but it will merely be a fracture.
So, yes, I'm here, where i found myself,
where I found them, my rare crystals,
who pushed me out of the shelf.
But the departure will hurt me with a pistol.
May 22, 2017
May 22, 2017 at 3:15 PM UTC
Like a kangaroo in a pouch
Sitting on her mother's couch
Giggling with toothless firth
Cycling of her amusing birth
Sleeping with an innocent heart
Knowing nothing of her dearth
Being born in a penniless heritage
Lacking jollity of first rate privilege !
Jun 6, 2016
Jun 6, 2016 at 4:56 AM UTC
The worst part of a funeral is not the sombre faces,
Nor the awkwardness of people
Who know not how to be at such a time,
It's not the heavy sense of sadness and loss
That permeates the air or the brash jollity of those
Who over compensate,
It's not standing to eulogise my friend
In so few minutes
When he was so vibrant and ALIVE,
Nor seeing in my mind's eye his face
As he lay recumbent in the coffin's cushioned dark
And airless embrace,
Not the sobs that came in public as I sat
After giving his farewell my all,
My first eulogy and sadly probably not my last,
No, the worst, the most awful thing was the wet thump
Of roses red falling on his coffin lid,
I tossed a handful of dry earth,
It sounded better,
Seemed more fitting,
An example followed by others,
A better more respecttful
And indeed final fare well,
Rest now Damien
Rest in peace
I will see you soon enough
Jul 16, 2022
Jul 16, 2022 at 7:11 AM UTC
The dreaded holidays recede.
Greed and gluttony,
bogus religiosity,
mandatory jollity,
painful remembrance,
all depart for another year.
The merchandising serpents,
having sold their apples,
slither back to their offices
to count the take.
The usurers smile
and unbutton their vests.
The God of Mammon
is sated for a while.
The possibilities
of real life return
and that is truly
something to celebrate.
- mce
Apr 3, 2015
Apr 3, 2015 at 5:48 PM UTC
Felicity please follow me
Let you bubble in my blood
I want the drops of red
To run down my body
In streams of excitement
Jollity please enthrall me
Cast your spell on me forever
And by oath possess me
That I may live
In your fruitful kingdom...
Let me not sing epitaphs anymore
Let me not revoke thoughts of disgrace
That were enchanted long ago
But may I live a vast life of fortune
A life that is gaiety, all in all
Oct 10, 2017
Oct 10, 2017 at 3:22 PM UTC
to avoid the pitfall of prospective homelessness
which near future prospect
induces existential angst i confess.
Today (end of rope rhyme rote
approximately deux orbitz round the sun),
i wanted ta die and bid god riddance grandly
going gamesomely gra grave,
de deum, and cymbal crash
to Bing mulct emotionally, physically and spiritually -
all the grinding hardships would be gone in a flash
how tempting to seek ot a solution sans hemlock
or other deadly potion,
whereby toothless mouth need not gnash
boot simply swallow and drink from the goblet of
mortal freedoms renting psych *** under
with purposelessness mine hash
tag, which bout with suicide
while n the edge of thirteen -
Anorexia nervosa defeated -
then as now experience
10,000 banshee maniacs whip lash
lacerating, flagellating,
and repeatedly rousing thoughts
shin to circle back to why death be not proud
when life on par with a mash
up of ennui, futile gobbledygook housing incubus
analogous luft waffe bombardiers quash
the joie de vivre per je ne sais quois spritely spring
in step happy jollity,
and levity attempt to make light
of psychological me's mental illness rash
whence thru the (then) lvii roam min years
as chief garbage taster of trash
hurled my way gnome matter
the gremlins dwelt within the Wabash
distance to inflict din er of dissonance
targeted this mortal for'er abash
as soon as he got expelled
from the womb, his reddened ears did bash
from sonic screaming boom causing astir the nurses
into the maternity ward
of me late mum sped like dash
her, and fast as a comet Prancer doth emulate
a con ***** dancer, cuz ova this rude half
re: that came a boot
from genetic chromosomal dna wash.
Feb 6, 2018
Feb 6, 2018 at 3:56 AM UTC
Sun is a star, its very far..
its without a scar..
pure and fine, rocks and shines...
la lala la la llala...
Earth is a planet enchanted..
life on earth is guaranteed ...
people here r interacted..
things all go elaborated...
Hop and dine and sip the wine..
this is the time which is all mine!!!
Look at the moon up there..
people can see it from everywhere ..
up in the sky it shines so bright...
my eyes can see the light at night..
Its party time guys..swing and sing...
Skip a beat and shake your hip...
Chin high up, let the body spin..
Oh my pal .. let the fun begin...
Dance whole night..just don't decide...
hip and hop and do that twice...
Chill on the hill and feel the thrill..
there u r girl..show your skill...
Oh my god..its dawn again..
a fresh new morning is all we gain..
Sun is back..our shining star..
night was sweet like a chocolate bar..
Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 5:21 AM UTC
*She walks in her ordained cage
Where reigns an eternal night
Her only window to the day
Is a peephole for a pencil of light!
Can’t say when her lips part in jollity
Or clouds gather in her eyes
Her face only the privileged can see
The world must see her in disguise!
You may wonder if she ever has the will
To break from the decree and be free
Remove from her face the veil
Run wild for all to see!*
Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 2:30 AM UTC
If the skies should open
I would glow
Every nerve a bit warmer
The plane that is my sense of touch
On jumping pegs of jollity
And if the skies should drop
I would laugh
Comfort leaving for comedy's sake
The plane that is my sense of touch
Taught to reflect the world around
The skies hold
Police cars race by
The people planes and cars trot behind them
Grass jitters in a cold breeze to my right
Water sways to emulate the dance of the grass to my left
Cold stone holds me parallel
To skies that may open
To skies that may drop
To skies that hold
All for now
May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 12:06 AM UTC
Flat stones skipping rippling water
reminiscing old memories
now that I am older
I remember climbing narra trees
with friends full of jollity
reminiscing old memories
I remember me feeling carefree
swimming through turquoise river currents
with friends full of jollity
I remember every moment
like the laughter-filled walk home after
swimming through turquoise river currents
Oh! the life I used to live is
still as good as i remember
like the laughter-filled walk home after.
As I now stand on the same river
flat stones skipping rippling water
still as good as I remember
now that I am older.
Jan 18, 2018
Jan 18, 2018 at 11:44 PM UTC