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Best Lay Poems

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Details | Lay Poem | |

SATAN OSCILLATE MY METALLIC SONATAS

*****To the naked EYE, this poem may seem like gibberish,
but I assure you it is loaded with 24 palindromes,
3 palindrome phrases, 1 hidden palindrome phrase,
and is chock full with enormous wordplay...
oh and one more palindrome in this description. 
Can you find more? I challenge you word freaks!*****


____SATAN OSCILLATE MY METALLIC SONATAS____

Last night, around eleven or so, I decided to paint a pink castle.
To my dismay, on display, is what looks more like a pink asshole.
Picasso would've been so proud!
Today, upon recording nothing short of a colossal debacle,
I've chosen to
utilize the eyes of a hostile apostle.
Tossing docile scribble, I'm scribing.
Describing life like a diatribe conniving REVIVER at a revival.

LIVE EVIL!

Palindrome EYE to the side of my tribe.
Get in line, standing at the hands of HANNA.

PULL UP.

RISE AND VOTE SIR!

EYE
LEVEL 
to 
NUN'S
BOOB.

WOW!

We OTTO-matically 
POP a PEEP at NOON!
DAD got so damn mad he DID the DEED
and split three XANAX with his MADAM and MOM!
(ALA the ABBA GIG way back in them AHA kookie KOOK days)

So anyways...
Back to peek hassle!
Do ya' think he might like ta' take a stab at my STATS?


*****(this was fun as fun can be:
hope you have half as much fun with it as I did:)*****

~JSLambert

Details | Lay Poem | |

I'M SO GLAD MY COMPUTER HAS A 'SMELL CHEQUER'

My computer has a ‘smell chequer’ Alas it doesn't seem to work For when I make an error I just look a complete jerk I know that I can smell I can do that pretty well But when I make an error It often is a terror I’m wary typing duck, I know that F is next to D Because if I do a swear it could be a tragedy If I’m typing the word shots I need to take great care Because I is next to O and of this I am aware So make sure you use your ‘smell chequer’ I am sure you will agree Your poems will be ‘prefect’ You will get it ‘write’ like me Jan Allison 25th October 2014

Details | Lay Poem | |

Words from the Oracle

We are in our fall before the season comes
Misting eyes and dropping a dandy heart
A sullen silence around the bee hive hums
History has no center left, facts fall apart

I have nothing left for honey but my words
Listening cleanse the eyes to see forever
Soon the sky flocks with all departing birds
Old bonds are unbroken, new loves sever

But to come again in heat and passion and lie
Cradled against the unknown of life's tomorrows
So summer goes, and sweet flowers will die
To bloom again as carpet for graves of sorrows.

Soon gold will fall from trees in a gray misty shroud
And all that was green will be brown and dim
And wild grass will bow where the land was ploughed
And wind will tap on its trumpet life's requiem

Details | Lay Poem | |

How Poetry Began

How Poetry Began


Gentle spirit came to visit noble man
sent poetic verse throughout the land
Declared she, I am the original Muse
your heart , soul and mind seek to use

Write and sing,love so deeply with me
we together shall plant a poetry tree
As our hearts join to this world sail
love and hope shall forever prevail

The Universe I have long ago tread
every galaxy my words have been read
You , mankind are the last I will meet
the poetic ground now underneath my feet

Open your hearts and see with new eyes
this new way will defeat all the lies
Beam of true light shall open your mind
you will be the first in all poetic kind

With this visit the original Muse departed
poetry spread in each heart it was started
Now we seek ever to find this greatest Muse
to prove how brilliantly she did choose!

Robert J. Lindley, 09-13-2014

This is was written as an entry in the
 How Poetry Began contest....
Has not been entered.  Seems the deadline has now passed..

Details | Lay Poem | |

Impart

            


A key to unlock the heart in loving thought to impart of simple words two lovebird simply find a way..... A simple wish A wish of love A simple love To wish upon To hold you near To let you in To let you hold Me once again I open up A heart of fear With opened eyes A love so dear This loving moment Held deep within Within a moment Gone again A simple wish A wish of love A simple love To wish upon I open up A heart of fear With opened eyes A love so dear

Details | Lay Poem | |

I don't know and what if

I don't know
I don't know
I don't know
Let it sink in
I don't know the answer
I don't know who you are
I don't know myself
I don't know how to get there
I don't know her
I don't know you that well
I don't know the next step

I don't know the answer
Or maybe I do
What if I am pretending
What if not knowing is my way of controlling you
Not having to take responsibility
What if I just want to see what you know
What if I am practicing to become a politician
Or maybe it's true 
I don't know

I don't know who you are
I would like to
Really I would
What if we spent more time together
I think that would help
What if you opened up a bit more
What if I listened more
That's not always easy
I'm still trying to figure out myself
That's right
I don't know myself

There are times I think I do
When I think I have figured me out
What if I'm deluding myself
What if I can't handle the truth
What if I need some time alone, to figure it out
What if I don't know, how to get there from here

I could ask for directions
Then what kind of man would I be
What if it would be okay, to question myself
To be able to say 
I don't know
I don't have the answers
What if like you, I'm just trying to figure it out
What if, I know myself better than I think
What if it's my way, of protecting myself

When I was young
A girl said "I don't know you that well"
Still she wanted to be with me
Not because she wanted to know me better
It was a hunger we both felt
I don't know her anymore
I didn't know her then
What if I had said no
Had not gone down that road to losing myself
What if I had waited
Waited, till I knew myself
Just a little better
I don't know
And yes sometimes I do
What if "I don't know" is the excuse I used
To do the things
I wanted to do
What if by saying, "I don't know the next step"
I wasn't responsible
I didn't have to take the blame
I could have waited
But I didn't want to

I don't know
I don't know
But
What if
I did
What if I do
I don't know
But 
What if 
What if it's all nothing but a game
I don't know
Still round and round I go
What if
I stopped
I don't know
I just don't know!





Details | Lay Poem | |

My Celestial Life

My life goes on and on
without any breaks nor rest
it’s like an icicle that melts
but never goes away.
My life is as perfect as it could be
like a rose to be seen
A garden of such beauty
from the fence to the house
My house is warm as a
fire burning in a forest
Music as Grace to the winds in a meadow
my room is messy as a tornado to a house.
The color of Red rose to blood
Color of the Night Sky to Black Sheets
those are the colors to life
Everyone else is happy with life
while I’m looking at stars in the night
Searching for a friend’s light
which are Galaxies away
Once I find her
She brings me happiness and joy
from her heart that chines at night
My life is as perfect as it could be
As we soar though the Nightless Skies of Day and Night.

Details | Lay Poem | |

I went out walking to the woods today

I went out walking to the woods today
I saw some canvas cities there
And many empty houses along the way
With yards overgrown or bare
And some building still in a heedless way
I met the paradox of man's dismay.

I went out walking to the woods today
To find the road not taken there
But following fire and cloud turned away
To  wipe my friend's uncomforted tear
And watch the jays and the magpies play
All around our descending disarray.

I went out walking to the woods today
To escape the cities cold despair
But from earth's predicament could not turn away
The sunlight withered gardens everywhere
And there the road not taken made of clay
God with us amidst sins decay.

Details | Lay Poem | |

Wonderful Words

Words,words,flowing through my mind,
I'm chilling,having a wonderful time,
Words,words,forming into lines,twisting,turning,tying up my mind,
Flowing with a beat,generating crazy rhymes...

Words,words,they are pulling my strings,
A puppet to these words,ohh what a beautiful thing,
Controlling my fingers,my thoughts,my mood,
Have me sitting on the toilet,writing in the nude...

Words,words,treating me like a punching bag,
Words of a dying old man or a playful little lad,
Love I have felt or an experience gone bad,
Whenever I am sad a few punches makes me glad...

Words,words,sending chills through my skin,
Explosion in my head,from deep,deep within,
Words,wonderful words,keep calling,keep calling,
Lost in these words,i'm falling,i'm falling....

Details | Lay Poem | |

Empathy

When in bondage your spirit flies
Your voice a distant, bleeding dove
On the table of my heart lies
The silent shadow of drooped love

Details | Lay Poem | |

The BOOK

And there stood still, was I along with persistence
Staring at this book, longing it to be in my existence

Browsing beneath books decorative cover
Eager to read each page carefully before lips stutter 

Is the inside parallel to that of the outside?
Stereotyping cease as one takes a peek on the inside  

Aroused by the few first pages
Wanting more, but the book is neither for rent nor any other wages

So then, I'll bookmark where I left off beginning again on tomorrow.



Pace, G INK-U-SCRIPT
06/19/2014

Details | Lay Poem | |

No Tomorrow's

  You know, its been in most fimiliard circles that the saying is...."tomorrow is
not promise to you". Yet 7 day's a week the census of time passes us hour by
hour, minute by (?) you know. The way of creation dictates why so many fimil-
iard people's live with so much sorrow. Do we tell them also that "No Tomorrow's,
no need to expect hope, hope in exceedily better yesterdays that promises a
chance at lease, if you get up-pitty is replace with No Tomorrow's".
You know, its been said by the glamour of religious folk's of scholar, that the mea-
sure success of rules and regulation, help determine how far some churche's bridge
out into the community. But what if the same bridge only pan out to certain people's
with Dollar for dollar faith in a God of wealth and presteige.
  The word of God tells us that the death on a tree is an atonement that reunite be-
lievers unto his Kingdom. That the light brings one from the darkside who's suffering
despair and horrow's. It will give some strength, some the knowledge that heaven is
a better place when the bridge offer's a one way road to all that know the word is my
foundation, in a world that thrive's on, "No Tomorrow's.

Details | Lay Poem | |

Poetr-E For Dummies

Once, I think, you said to me
That poets are like the sand in the sea
But each grain plays a part in that ocean
To set each wave in motion.
Taste this
Little oasis
So you feel
The appeal.
Listen, my friend, to know what we are
How writing, in rhythm, does take us far
Every word takes our soul on vacation
To the culture of a new nation
We are open
When broken
For we know
How to grow.
Open your eyes, and you will see
That though we are like sand in the sea
Our work is parchment coated in emery,
Every word a recorded memory.

Details | Lay Poem | |

Weeping Willow

I am the weeping willow
Inside your garden green
And I hope that you can hear me
Hear me as I scream
Into your bedroom window 
As you soundly sleep 
To that quiet thumping
Of your heart-beat

And I hope that I am with you 
To make your day feel bright
But I've gone and went so far away
To a place that won't feel right
Until I see your shining face
Shining out into the world 
Shining out to give me sight,
Because it seems so lonely here without you 
But you get me through the night
And into the morning 
Because I think you might, have
Dreamed of me last night
Dreamed I would be coming home 
To hold you close to me.

Now I miss you more than breathing
And I am writing you a song 
To help your patience wait for me 
To help you feel like you belong 
And your inside my long-lost heart.
Inside my long-lost song. 

Because I think you might, have
Dreamed of me, inside your garden green
Dreamed that I would sit and sing
In the right piano key 
To help you through your nights and days
To help you think of me.

Now that I have made it here 
I don't know why I'd ever leave
But then I'll think of how you'll smile 
When you finally see
This plan I have for the two of us 
This plan won't believe

So we'll bring along a camera
To capture of memories, 
To keep them deep inside hearts ,
To keep them in our dreams, 

And I am the weeping willow
As we float downstream
Like something from a movie
Or something from a dream.

I just want you to know that I care
That I think your perfect, 
And you'll see when we get there 
I'll bring that smile through
To see those bright eyes shine 
To see the real you.

I miss you 
And I don't think they understand
How I wish I was a child
And you my mother's hand 

And I am the weeping willow 
Inside your garden green 
That intrudes upon your loneliness
And intrudes upon your dreams

And I hope one day you'll love me 
Like a love I've never seen 
You'll intrude upon this loneliness
And intrude upon my dreams

Details | Lay Poem | |

pray for me

have no sypamthy 
or pity for my actions
but pray for me 
when i'm 
falling 
in ones life there 
are many 
distractions
for me to stand here 
with a open heart for you 
i guess your prayer 
reach god!

pray for me 
when i walk in 
to them streets
not knowing what is
waiting on me 
pray for me 
that i make something 
of this talent of mine.
pray for me 
and i'll pray 
for you each time

Details | Lay Poem | |

Nail Art

Nails grow long and shapely
Standing out against the 
Finger where it is filed
Down to a silhouette
That forms an erotic
Design against
The backdrop
Of fleshy
Fragile
Skin
Nail
Artistically
Colored with
Reds, pinks, auburns,
All the colors of polishes
Meant to reflect the glowing
Profiles of these well-rounded
Voluptuous digits that correspond
To the beautiful hand they are attached
To and are used to do the their daily tasks

Double reverse Etheree Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Shadow Hamilton
Written on September 24, 2014



Details | Lay Poem | |

WITH PEN IN HAND

With pen in hand
How little the world seem to me
How powerful I do feel
For there’s nothing I can’t handle
Everything I tackle
Criminals I put behind bars
Minds I sharpen
With pen in hand
I am a hero

With pen in hand
I am a legend
For my words are filled with power
For my thoughts heals the nation
For I give hope to those hopeless
For I care for the elderly
And restore respect to the youths.

With pen in hand
HIV/AIDS is history
For I encourage ABCD precaution
For I preach about abstinence and faithfulness
With pen in hand
I am your love doctor
For I mend broken hearts
For my words soothes lover’s hearts

With pen in hand
I need neither gun nor knife
For there’s no battle I can’t win
With pen in hand
I will conquer the world.

Details | Lay Poem | |

Shadow Maiden

I see you in my heart. You pass by like a shadow.
I never fully see your face and your smile haunts me. 

I want to meet you so bad but you never stop. 
Always in motion and fleeting just enough to catch my attention 
during the moments when I am alone. 

Occasionally, you pause long enough for me to survey you
and it makes we yearn for you.

Sometimes, you let me catch you and hold you in embrace.
Our passion is so powerful it consumes us. We are perfect.

Then, when you want to go, you do, and there is nothing I can do to hold you.

I wish you would appear and meet me. I think I wouldn't feel so alone 
if you were in my life, cheering me up with just your presence. 

I would treat you with love's proper attention and a hope that would propell us to 
go even higher, into the infinite, where love is opened to it's fullest expanse. 

I desire you so much. I just wish I could catch you.
 
Who are you? Why do you haunt me?
I have sought you in every woman I've ever met. 
Yet, none has ever been you.

I want to stand close to you and feel our tenderness shared.
When we touch, the power of love flows through us.
It makes me hungry for you. 

I've come to realize who you represent. 
I just don't know where to find you.


Details | Lay Poem | |

Words are Messy


Classy thirsty healing posts
Words are just messy

In secret
Words prepare dialogue transporting emotions like pilots
With no mercy words turn around and get messy
Placing Vaseline on dry throats speaking levy
Lips on skateboards sniffing the ground for reality’s ride
Electrifying plots against blurry words with
no physical basic thoughts thinking dialogue cravings
Untidy tiding plots buried in baritones hurried to hire imaginary thoughts
With no mercy things get messy

Stainless inks get messy

Poetry comes in speed bumps
Never the less poetry comes in speeds
Bumping speed bumps

Bump all slumps
Bluffing word bumps
Bump all stunts
Puff them hard till words provoke gumboot sounds         
Bump all ink pumps and thirsty thumbs                                                         
Speed bump conclusions jumping resolutions around
words spoken in gibberish gigabytes per seconds smelling leverage 
Amplifying televised revolution on repetition far from average 
                                                       
Paralyze those walking eyes
Bumping rhythms
Dusty broken chests serving overcrowded greeting lines
On solo mode
Flirtalicious solo chaotic modes                                                            
Bumb connections around chairs warmed up by bums
Speaking the same womb and rhythms

Brothers and sisters chained up in pairs and bums
enslaved by messy word poetry speed-bumbs
Words get messy with no mercy on lip bumps

Those messy words camp behind bushy brains
Rail track through lips with no vibrating mercy veins                                              
Affiliate with true bones 
Crossbones carrying history's forgotten side bums 
Instrumental bones
Stinking hip hop bums speed flossing word stunts        
Words dig up chaos with no mercy                  

Armed with no rounds
Pounds stolen before two rounds
Sheriffs secretly scared of their own uniform sounds
Shortlisted words saving society's bums 
Words are just messy and profound 

(c) Raymond Ngomane

Details | Lay Poem | |

Temporary InSlamity

            
      Temporary InSlamity
                 

Two a.m , still awake, gettin’ leg-shakes 
Gaggin’, burnin’ on my mis-slam-stakes 
Tryin’ to win some judge judy’s hot damn 
Thank-you-ma’am for hosting this con-slam-test 
As I sling slam sludge like hogs in a hookup ham-fest

Just a small-time soul slammin’ junkie motha
Hopin’ this funky slam betta than  at least  one otha!
Didn’t know when I started tho… 
Twenty-five crappy lines could sentence me 
To prison time for petty poetic crimes bro... or should I say brotha….

Cause this fussed-over cussed-over rhymin’ over-doses
Ain’t no Gun and Roses, hell it ain’t even close-es
More like prosetry psychosis 
Induced by late-night deep hypnosis
 Where am I???  maaannnn.. time to be poppin’ some more no-sleep no-dozes

Hope the Judge J. rules summarily
That I suffered temporary in-slam-ity illiterarily 
Or had an unnecessary ca-slam-ity vocabularily 
And no matter which way judge rolls, just so she knows
I didn’t write this slam ma’am… this slam is writing me (very eerily…)

So Judge Judy of poetic tort, appealing to your phoenetic court  
Don’t abort this sham of a slam to the sordid slammer
Order it posted where it can be toasted on glam slam site Instagrammar  
Cause tryin’  me,  fryin’ me over crimey slammism
 Means death of ode age in poetical prison… 

    © 2014 all rights reserved

Details | Lay Poem | |

tiny tongue twisters

heroin hero

zigzag to zero

people

peeping through the peep hole

rambling ridiculous riddles

raging rapping ripples

nibbling nimble numb nipples

simply said to be selectively simple

ponderous ponder

pushing pieces of puzzles

protruding like pus poor pimples

Details | Lay Poem | |

RENEGADES FOREVA

  Renegades Foreva!

Renegade teenage rage babes 
thinkin’ they all grown, all knowin’ 
when they seedlin’s barely sown
bleedin’ teenage angst with teenage crankst
always rhymin’ and mis-timin’ some poetry-crimin’  
mis-mashin', diss-bashin' 
word-clashin' song 
heard on some half-sappy, sex-happy, 
yap-rap, smack-attack vid 
made by some brotha who’s just anotha 
angry angst-ridden 
wannabe gangsta kid

With a street beat
they be hummin’ or singin’ along
repeatin’ the deceit 
not knowin’ curse verses 
are just plain wrong and mostly maligin’   
while grownups in earshot 
takin’ all them swearshots
wishin’ them words had sweeter rhymin’ 
or that kids be more discreet 
would take their claptrap, 
no-class, crass-crack lyrics 
and just tweet ‘em or mime ‘em

But if ‘dults could go back, meet themselves
when they was punk teens 
fittin’ into pre-shrunk his or her hunk jeans
listenin’, partyin’ to poppin’ rockin’ 
unusual musical junk boy band scenes
and lettin’ out star-struck 
super-charged
groanal hormonal 
no-one-could-understand gland screams    
then they’d be amused ya know, 
might change their views ya know 
cause remind ‘em not so pristine 
when child and ‘dult they was in-between

Kids always lookin’ to find 
who they are and who they be 
imprisoned involuntarily 
in their youthful penitentiary 
no matter what century they be from you see            

So if  thinkin’ rap sucks cause 
it’s just no-class hurls and low-class slurs 
then fire-up that flux capacitor of yours, 
head back to yo’ past and meet yo’ younger him or hers
see your own rebelling mis-teen-stakes 
then rapping notions you might reshape
or rapping judgments remake
or least maybe now tolerate new-age teenage
rapping outbreaks and in-yo-face ear-quakes 
realizin’ that come whateva or wheneva
that all teens now, before an’ where-eva 
will evamore and eva be 
natural renegades foreva! 

© 2014 all rights reserved

Details | Lay Poem | |

Roast of an UNNAMED Poet

He's packin' magic Viagra
Muse infused grooves set the mood
grab ya' and stab ya' 
we're opposites 
still we speak the same language 
teach and preach truth
every time I stop to see what he's droppin' 
my dang pen commits sin, flips a lid  
ink pours, runs down the paper like Jill Abramson did the NY TIMES
just in time verse transfers kinetic energy 
activating a semantic force field
formulating symbiosis through synergy   
swimming in puddles of puns
changing sans rays into rays of sun 
you can hear bums humming metonym hymns from the Twin Cities to Tuscan
igniting a revolution of prostitutes and hooligans on hallucinogens to scoot  
loose from futons 
learn to earn and swim with loose Louis Vuitton boots on 
whacked out kids from Pakistan with crack in hand hear his pen 
and pack into Shaggin' Wagon vans to kick up sand and
do their dance and just hold hands 

the whole globe huggin' like cousins 
uncovering hovering heteronomy mysteries evading lexicographers throughout 
centuries of history
he's teaching wide eyed chicks to utilize polysemy by demonstrating thermal 
viscosity rates of his balls and prick
my mental lexicon is spinning 
so I'm sinnin' then  I'm grinnin' and grabbing inflatable girlfriends over for 
dinner then dessert to be followed immediately by frenzied poetic circle jerks

I must admit the fabric of his hyperbole allegoristic-ally makes me 
wanna  on·o·mat·o·poe·ia in my pants and break into a hyper pole dance!
he's coordinating conjunctions
box munching at the junction
whole heartedly gets retarded with descriptive hard-ons 
vast array of play-on words for you ladies to chew on
verse for verse
inch for inch
tit for tat 
this and that 
hot and heavy with romance 
enough to make a man wear a hard hat 
there inside the high rise 
under construction in the pants
damn Mister (CENSORED), atta-boy!
and though I'mma boy with no vagina, boy 
(you don't mind if I call you mister by design there boy?)

Man, the images your tongue twisters send 
I must commend and admit 
if you had a different rear end...
then WO'-man
I might have to apprehend your ass with my ten inch night stick, oh hell, it's 
just past a hard seven, but who's countin' man? 

As you see poetry is a curse conjuring harmful words of demonic proportions 
reading your scriptures' depictions interrogatively tells me these inscriptions 
are precisely the prescription I need to erect the sword which could ultimately 
lead to seismic abortions...dang...
Did I just type that? 

Details | Lay Poem | |

If Visions Mattered

I  set sight on visions 
Picture little if visions
Matter ,i paint a photo 
To vision my pictures
My vision has lost it way to my tongue
I speak what I see,visualise or better yet picture
My vision set scenes like am Picasso
As I speak out my words in a Pablo
More or less a parable of my words painting 
A vision of Picasso ,a pain tainting

Is it a beautiful vision that i now draw 
Sharp words sketching fine black &white 
Lines of how the vision begins 
Curves and edges on how 
I flip and toss these metaphors
And I colour the corners of my visualised picture
With idioms and shade it with similes
As it is similar to the photo of my vision
I speak fluently with coloured thoughts 
Penciled on my incomplete picture 
As I have my vision destroyed

For I set sight on visions 
Picture little if visions
Matter,as I have less of a picture
More of a photo
Photo my visions
Picture my visions
Spoke of my visions 
Frame my visions with
Synonyms, antonyms
Or shorten my picture with acronyms
Then the picture becomes and is less of a vision
The absence of words paints an empty picture

Words as powerful , dreams as wonderful
Actions performed, as visions are destroyed
destructed and demolished 
Words conquer, visions follow

I  set sight on visions 
Picture little if visions
Matter, i paint a photo 
To vision my picture 
Without these words I can not paint my visions.

Details | Lay Poem | |

A wolf story

The journey was rough, the road was long
Her withered face radiated, turned in song
Still she fought, her faith was strong
She had no power, but she knew they were wrong

She turned her face towards the breeze
She heard them shout, she didn’t dare to breathe
Opening her mind, she sent a silent message to the sky
Please, dear god, don’t let me die

Before they reached, her creaky tree
Something made them turn and flee
Climbing out to have a peak
No hero, no human did she seek 

But on the waters edge she heard a growl
A lone wolf was on the prowl
Thank you, she whispered bowing to the ground
But the wolf if it heard, gave no sound

Off it stalked, in between the winding tree
No one she told, no one would believe
Everyday she would thank the grace,
For her saviour with a different face.