"litotes" poems - Hello Poetry

On The counters of poetry I dock and lock myself Then I scope on the bottles of liquors seductively And spellblind by their syllables I took the shakers and hybrid The Similes The Onomatopeia's The Nemesis' The Near-Rhymes And The Triadic-Lines Then I gulp fourteen shots of Sonnets From my paper-glass And glug a paradox Or a foil-sigh Trice, The knots Bundling my eloquence Will exonerated itself And torpidity will cuff my consciousness And the droplets remains in my paper- glass Will impel me To quest for myriad of them I'm not drunk! I'm not drunk! I'm not drunk! I Will slur With half an eye open As if the other is broken Stock on a comedy chair Then When the Limbs of time tread Will I rush to the counter Like the athletes at Olympia And hybrid The Blank-verses The Alliterations The Limericks The Litotes The Aporia's And The Dysphemism's And Gulp countless Yet measured shoots Of Ballad,with my paper-glass And unravel the oratories Of sacred secrets,eclectic enchantment and regrettable reflexes Aside,or injects the world With my rugged pins of eruditions Bestowed in me by the liquors of poetry I'm not drunk! I'm not drunk! I'm not drunk! I Will slur With half an eye open As if the other is broken Stocked on a comedy-chair Again I will rush To the counter,and hybrid The Exaggerations The Personifications The Imageries And The Caesura's And Gulp uncounted shoots Of Epic's from my paper-glass And Eulogise my steam and wit Yet,I'm drunk And deeply drunk wholly By a might that mortify me so much That I've become a slave In the awe of my servitude Now and then Will I weep and wail terribly Each morning,each noon,and each night For the great demise of myself And for an emancipation From the perpetual counter-cells poetry I'm drunk,and deeply drunk by poetry. Deeply Drunk ©Historian E.Lexano

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Jul 29, 2015

Jul 29, 2015 at 4:38 PM UTC

The_Prince

Deeply Drunk

On The counters of poetry I dock and lock myself Then I scope on the bottles of liquors seductively And spellblind by their syllables I took the shakers and hybrid The Similes The Onomatopeia's The Nemesis' The Near-Rhymes And The Triadic-Lines Then I gulp fourteen shots of Sonnets From my paper-glass And glug a paradox Or a foil-sigh Trice, The knots Bundling my eloquence Will exonerated itself And torpidity will cuff my consciousness And the droplets remains in my paper- glass Will impel me To quest for myriad of them I'm not drunk! I'm not drunk! I'm not drunk! I Will slur With half an eye open As if the other is broken Stock on a comedy chair Then When the Limbs of time tread Will I rush to the counter Like the athletes at Olympia And hybrid The Blank-verses The Alliterations The Limericks The Litotes The Aporia's And The Dysphemism's And Gulp countless Yet measured shoots Of Ballad,with my paper-glass And unravel the oratories Of sacred secrets,eclectic enchantment and regrettable reflexes Aside,or injects the world With my rugged pins of eruditions Bestowed in me by the liquors of poetry I'm not drunk! I'm not drunk! I'm not drunk! I Will slur With half an eye open As if the other is broken Stocked on a comedy-chair Again I will rush To the counter,and hybrid The Exaggerations The Personifications The Imageries And The Caesura's And Gulp uncounted shoots Of Epic's from my paper-glass And Eulogise my steam and wit Yet,I'm drunk And deeply drunk wholly By a might that mortify me so much That I've become a slave In the awe of my servitude Now and then Will I weep and wail terribly Each morning,each noon,and each night For the great demise of myself And for an emancipation From the perpetual counter-cells poetry I'm drunk,and deeply drunk by poetry. Deeply Drunk ©Historian E.Lexano

87

She stood in the dock, a ruddy gibbering wreck, very flushed and very frightened, The stern judge was a vulture, dreams of chewing her flesh, Counsel for the prosecution, was a rather noisy crow, In her defence, an eagle stood, Clutching close her feathered brood. the courtroom clerk a budgerigar, with yellow breast, and mottled feathers, chatting and typing litotes, although not really listening. The defendant for the trial today, was a bright pink flamingo, with googly legs and googly eyes, that poured out such pink tears, the way the case was going on, well, she could be locked away for years, the jury consisted of mockingbirds, who laughed at everything they heard, the evidence was null and void, not really heard above the noise. Having heard what he could of the evidence, the vulture judge got rather cross, he called upon a dove, "members of the jury, we have to acquit this pretty flamingo, because I believe that I'm in love". (c)Livvi

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Jun 20, 2014

Jun 20, 2014 at 4:33 PM UTC

olivia-kent

Flocking into Court!

She stood in the dock, a ruddy gibbering wreck, very flushed and very frightened, The stern judge was a vulture, dreams of chewing her flesh, Counsel for the prosecution, was a rather noisy crow, In her defence, an eagle stood, Clutching close her feathered brood. the courtroom clerk a budgerigar, with yellow breast, and mottled feathers, chatting and typing litotes, although not really listening. The defendant for the trial today, was a bright pink flamingo, with googly legs and googly eyes, that poured out such pink tears, the way the case was going on, well, she could be locked away for years, the jury consisted of mockingbirds, who laughed at everything they heard, the evidence was null and void, not really heard above the noise. Having heard what he could of the evidence, the vulture judge got rather cross, he called upon a dove, "members of the jury, we have to acquit this pretty flamingo, because I believe that I'm in love". (c)Livvi

33

In truth, it's my go-to state. I'll say it's not so bad when I actually mean that it's great. Litotes and understatement - that's my forte. If I ever make the mistake of letting you get too close, I'll soon compensate by pushing you far, far away.

0

Nov 25, 2015

Nov 25, 2015 at 1:41 AM UTC

JDK

Aloof

In truth, it's my go-to state. I'll say it's not so bad when I actually mean that it's great. Litotes and understatement - that's my forte. If I ever make the mistake of letting you get too close, I'll soon compensate by pushing you far, far away.

6

Building those metaphors that personify beauty Creating an allusion by using epigraphs With allegory and alliteration creating euphemism And midst litotes and kennings Forming masterpiece // Cheers to all the poets.

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Jul 4, 2018

Jul 4, 2018 at 4:06 AM UTC

krishna-mehra

Ink it down

Building those metaphors that personify beauty Creating an allusion by using epigraphs With allegory and alliteration creating euphemism And midst litotes and kennings Forming masterpiece // Cheers to all the poets.

6

That morning, sound was a spear of melted glass pouring down over the mountainside. The treetops don't hiss anymore with crying katydids, the bird songs even are beginning to dwindle- as they cast their voices across the sky, pulling away. And as the world grows quiet, the visions get loud black trees cut blue and yellow skies ice on the corners of your car window a reminder of what's coming in litotes

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Sep 23, 2015

Sep 23, 2015 at 10:57 AM UTC

christine-eglantine

Winter's Crawl

That morning, sound was a spear of melted glass pouring down over the mountainside. The treetops don't hiss anymore with crying katydids, the bird songs even are beginning to dwindle- as they cast their voices across the sky, pulling away. And as the world grows quiet, the visions get loud black trees cut blue and yellow skies ice on the corners of your car window a reminder of what's coming in litotes

10

I am a direct metaphor. I am simple compared to simile. Buzzing noisily with onomatopoeia. I am much harder than the irony. Awfully repetitive like alliteration. More hyper than the hyperbole. Non-living but I live by personification. I am litotes, full of negativity. I am the antithesis of the antithesis. Partly whole like synecdoche. I am confusing and messy like paradox. I use "handsome" as my name. Metonymy. If you can't understand the pun, it's because I am the ***** in the oxymoron.

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Sep 16, 2021

Sep 16, 2021 at 8:48 AM UTC

brian-odongo

Iam Arts

I am a direct metaphor. I am simple compared to simile. Buzzing noisily with onomatopoeia. I am much harder than the irony. Awfully repetitive like alliteration. More hyper than the hyperbole. Non-living but I live by personification. I am litotes, full of negativity. I am the antithesis of the antithesis. Partly whole like synecdoche. I am confusing and messy like paradox. I use "handsome" as my name. Metonymy. If you can't understand the pun, it's because I am the ***** in the oxymoron.

15