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Best Communication Poems

Below are the all-time best Communication poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of communication poems written by PoetrySoup members

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Don't stop! The most popular and best Communication poems are below this new poems list.

Communication Is The Key by Jones, Cynthia
Miss Communication by Lamoureux, Richard
Communication Differing by Scribner, Michael
Communication by touch by Knyr, Volodymyr
PILLARS OF COMMUNICATION by Devnath, BL
A COMMUNICATION PROBLEM by Ashton, Darryl
Terse Communication by Sivey, Russell
We, Community Of Weathered Communication - by Bordner, Justin
BRIDGES OF COMMUNICATION by Devnath, BL
Lack of Communication by Lacey, Joshua

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The Best Communication Poems

Details | Communication Poem | |

Love story part 4

Mathias works long and hard to convince the authorities to let her seek asylum in his country, months go by and without even a single communication, he becomes frustrated,
 
“Do your eyes still long to see me? 
Even when you close them, is it me they see?
Do your lips still long to kiss me?
Does your tongue still 'sigh' my name?
Does your nose still long for my aroma?
Does your ear drum still beat faster when your ears hear my voice?
Does your hair and cheeks still long to be caressed by my fingers?
Does your neck still long to be kissed by my lips?
Do your hands still want to clasp together with mine?
Do your breasts still want to comfort my heavy head?
Do your shoulders still want to feel my tears?
Does your lap still want me to lay my head up on it?
Does your heart still beat faster when I appear?
Does your mind still want to connect with mine?
Does your body still want to be embraced by my arms?
Is it me you search for?
Am I the one you desire?
Or does your heart no longer connect with mine,
has it become numb since you said goodbye.”
 
Imaani waits patiently for her beloved to return, even though her health is deteriorating, she remembers their first meeting with fondness,
 
“My beloved, you are more lovable than love,
you are my life today and in the next life,
that is why I could die in your love,
as I know at the end it will only be us.
 
I remember the first time you touched me,
your silky smooth hands invigorated my soul.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up,
you gave me goose bumps and sent shivers down my spine.
 
Never before have I seen beauty like yours,
when I look at you, it leaves me breathless.
I have drowned in your eyes constantly,
but, I am saved when your radiant voice speaks to me.
 
There will never be enough words that describe what you mean to me,
there will never be a time when these eyes tire of you.
I wish I could hold you forever, let you fall asleep in my arms,
I wish I could merge with you and be adjoined infinitely.
 
Nobody could ever replace you, the feelings are too strong,
life is not worth living, if living is without you.”
  
Finally, Mathias travels back to Imaani to bring her home with all relevant documents.  However, as he returns Imaani is nowhere to be found...  After days of searching he discover that Imaani has died due to severe malnutrition.  He is heartbroken and feels it is the end of the world and contemplates suicide.  A doctor finds him and passes over a note that Imaani had left for him and it reads,

This life is a fraud...
Full of nothing but deceit..
This world has lost its glory...
Leaving little reason to be...
For life has treated me like a stone upon a path..
Whoever walked by kicked me out of the way...
However, I still remain standing..
Despite all those arrows fired my way...
I may be flung from path to path..
But upon my journey I remain..
For those who belittle me now..
Laugh, as I assure you I will have the final say..
These tears I shed today..
Will return to haunt you someday..
For the glory I seek, is not here ...
But far away..
For one day, I will return..
To the beginning, from where I came...

Slowly, he falls into the depths of darkness and despair... Secluding himself from the world and contemplating death... A white dove lands on his window and just stares right at him and at that moment, he realises it is time to say goodbye..

A dove flew by,
reminding me of your love.
Its been a long time,
since a tear escaped my eye.
You've gone,
but your memories remain.
My heart remains stagnant,
it may never love again.
They say romance is dead,
that true love never lasts forever..
My love for you has never changed,
as my heart could never accept another.
Some say love is a temporary emotion,
but, I still feel your love, it will last forever.
I can still feel you, 
your thoughts consume my mind.
I long for our reunion, maybe not today,
but soon and it will be forever...

(sound of shot gun)

The End.
The Silent One. 20 August 2015.

More great poems below...


Details | Communication Poem | |

Dear Lucifer

I cannot compete with something as painstakingly glorious as you
Envy is but a humbling tumble down a steep, rocky hill
I am crushed in your fits of glory—your screaming for passion
My approaches are absolutely wrong
Therefore my communication is a weak, ransomed victim
Your poison arrow frog skin rubs against my exposed body
I happily accept my fate
For your beauty surpasses the ephemeral pain of the infectious reign
My erroneous, inevitable downfall
I hold you up—I feel the need to keep you tall!
Michael the Archangel did not insult you once, Lucifer
How then will I? 
How can I possibly be higher than you?-
Why would I want to?
I admire your freedom
I simply disregard your macrodomes of ever-worshiped flaw 
If I could allow myself, I would share in your glory
Only to add to it further
But as I am poisoned with the truth
I can only be your grounded pedestal
And though you flee from humility in its wake upon my brow
I realize everyday you are living for the grounded now
And I merely look to the unknown future
A place I dread where you unwillingly hold me up
Bonded in the ground with Death and Hades
You become my pedestal, and the worms my vineyard
My parasitic feet seer your glory
I am ever so sorry
I never wanted this renown

There was a time I do recall
When you overtook me in my sleep
I cried aloud in helpless acceptance
But soon I was forced in a croak of laughter
I felt your bitter poison
I felt pride at last
I thank you for it
I thank you for showing me

What I will never be

Dear Lucifer,
Provoke me no longer to praise your eternal existence
Generations of Evening take a hold of me now
And the fruit must be shared

Details | Communication Poem | |

Love Train Haiku

ATTRACTION,,,,,

                    Eyes glued to body,
                    Roaming from head to toe,
                    Drooling mouth water...

FIRST LOVE,,,,,,
                    
                    A sudden attack,
                    Swept off your feet,
                    Above cloud nine...

IN LOVE,,,,,,,,,,,

                    Communication amazing,
                    Thoughts wave connect,
                     Heart beating as one...
   

               My first HAIKU

Details | Communication Poem | |

A Palindrome called Temptation

A Palindrome, also called Mirrored Poetry, is a poetry type not listed, so I put it under Free Verse.  If anyone finds a better categoy for this please let me know.  Thomas
______________________________________________________________________

Temptation

Temptation
And porn replaced love
Day after day
We are bombarded
Sex and beauty
Objects over heart
Thoughts lustful, confused reality
Isolation supplanted communication
Clouds out move clarity
Facade my life
~Redemption~
Life my facade
Clarity move out clouds
Communication supplanted isolation
Reality confused lustful thoughts
Heart over objects
Beauty and sex
Bombarded are we
Day after day
Love replaced porn and
Temptation

Details | Communication Poem | |

A Love Letter to My Friends of India

When I think of India, I think of dark eyed beauties, their foreheads painted with decorative red dots, and I see them moving deliciously in beautiful bright costumes as bangles dangle from their slender wrists. When I think of India, I think of a culture steeped in history and tradition: folkloric music, myths, and dance, and the influence of the Hindu religion. I visualize the rich and poor alike bathing themselves in a river called Ganges. I see an olden time when mighty elephants, colorfully decorated, carried men atop their backs on elegant elephant seats, and I recall pictures in my geography studies of the white sacred cows freely roaming the narrow streets of Delhi. I recall a novel I read: Rudyard Kipling’s engrossing tale of a jungle boy and also other novels depicting a clash of cultures as the British imposed their rules on Indian society. I think of current movies showing the seedy side of India such as one named Slumdog Millionaire and a movie to contrast it, the romantic Bollywood delight named JabTak Hai Jaan. Furthermore, I recall the grace and good nature of the Indian people depicted in a film called The Best Ever Exotic Marigold Hotel. When I think of India, I think of the Taj Mahal, Kama Sutra, and curry, and also I recall horrible stories of Bride burnings now banned and by contrast, the good works of Mother Teresa, who labored there among the poor, and I think of the man who is probably the most recognized by Americans as a good and strong example of leadership: Mahatma Ghandi. All these things are the sum of what I have learned about India in my lifetime. But what do I really know of India? What I have learned recently relates to poets I have come to know at this website and who have shown me through their poetry and their communication with me, a more personal side of the Indian people that I never used to know. Through the poetry of Ravindra I have learned the love of an Indian for his heritage and how he emulates his father‘s work through beautiful translations. From poets like BL and Jag, I’ve learned more about the deep and philosophical nature of the Indian poet! Through great friendships with people like Kashinath, Yesha and Yasmin, and Guatami I have come to learn about the actual personalities of dear Indian people whose life experiences, struggles and desires are not so different from my own, and also I am able to enjoy their eloquent words as they describe their own emotions, passions, and love of nature through their poetry. Perhaps their culture adds a flavoring to their words and phrases that is a bit different from my own, but in the end, we are all alike beneath the skin. Whether from India or any other country, we are, all of us, becoming a part of a global community in which our differing backgrounds can be accepted and even better - celebrated! Thank you I say to all my poet friends whose words enrich my life, but in particular, today I thank my friends from India, for helping me to really see how beautiful you are and to understand your country better through knowing YOU.

More great poems below...


Details | Communication Poem | |

Miss Communication

There once was, a Miss. Communication
With pleasure she loved to communicate
Writing of love and the wonders of life
Her passion extreme and never sedate

Those afraid, of Miss. Communication 
For she expressed herself with all her might
They banded together, to make their point
Miss Took, Mr. E and yes Mr. Right

Sadly the Kingdom, fell into darkness
For not a single note flowed from her throne
The sound of her music, could not be heard
Miss Communication sad and alone

So the town people, gathered together
Including, one who was Miss. Understood
We looked to her, in hopes of an answer
As she strummed on her harp made out of wood

Miss. Communication, rose to the call
For in the end she knew they were all friends
Because with passion, sometimes lines are crossed
Miss. Communication, never pretends

She felt real joy and her pen regained strength 
Entering again, into the land of dreams
For within, our miscommunications.
It's true, nothing is ever as it seems!



Events of the last few days have left me feeling sad.
Things said that have left people I care about hurt.
Misunderstood people on different sides that are 
really in the end not so different from each other.
Reconciliation comes from listening, in the end
each of us is looking for a place to belong and be
appreciated. Let us choose to act with gentle hearts
and kind words. Being loving is a greater cause than
being right. 





Details | Communication Poem | |

How You Make The Stars Hush

There is something about 
The way you face your day
With a heart of gold
And such a giving way.

There is something about
The way you endure your pain
As if the stroke 
Didn’t harm your brain

There is something about
The life you live
Loving like there will be no tomorrow
And living to forgive

There is something about
The brother you are
And the son you have been
That makes us more proud by far

It is everything about
The garden you grow
With sweat and tears
As the fruits to others you bestow

It is everything about 
A body half paralyzed
That can produce gifts of woodwork
That leaves us mesmerized.

It is everything about
Your speech so limited
Yet communication 
For you is unlimited.

It is everything about
Your inner soul
That has inspired me
To be so much more

It is you my brother
In all that you do
That have made the stars
Hush for me too.

I have been blessed to have such a brother

Contest:  How you make the stars hush
Justin Bordner

Details | Communication Poem | |

Spelling Test

SPELLING TEST (there are over 30 words contained within this poem that are often 
misspelt by the common man)

We all do on occasion temporarily misspell.
Amateur or connoisseur of language,who can tell?
Conscientiously piece together,peculiar bits of rhyme.
Manoeuvre letters gorgeously for others to refine.

Discipline and experience,all apparent to you and me.
Pronunciation not enough to spell linguistically.
Skilful realignment of the letters needs addressed.
Paralytic implications quintessentially expressed.

A ricochet of rhythm,sabotaged in a queue of verse.
Cacophony of tone with their spellings unrehearsed.
Is your spelling kamikaze,a haemorrhaging of ink.
A karaoke nightmare,communication on the brink.

So literary geniuses,i am all apologetic.
If my utterance is rabbled and my spelling is pathetic.
You see,many words i utilize in this poem i create. 
Have been misspelt for centuries,the most common is 
separate

Details | Communication Poem | |

You are THE EYES OF THE WORLD

You, poet, poetess...
ARE THE EYES OF THE WORLD!

Now that I've got your attention... let's sail to avenues where few too many 
cooks infuse attitutudes, burn britches in the kitchen.
Let us wave banners and quake fault lines of the masses, generate public 
interest bigger than entering contests, so the future wins as we arrest eye 
sights of their asses.
 
We've got something special in here; everyone sharing and caring and staring 
at screens like queens stare in the mirror. Hey, I've got an idea dear, rather 
it's more like a scattered ideal, real rednecks call "Idears, ya' hear!" 

So put down yir' sweet tea, turn off Duck Dynasty and come fly with me. 
We've got a whole generation of people sleeping through myriads of poetic 
songs. I contest we kick 'em in the ass with something true, something 
strong. 

We've got a beautiful community begging to be read. But right now, the only 
ones reading are those who should be writing instead.

We need to reach out, feed the needy, there's so much to teach. We are at 
the beginning of something huge, but I need YOU to see there's a universe to 
reach.

Look in the mirror, understand where you stand...
---------------
Note...
This stage could be HUGE!!! Poets are the last line of defense. But, here we 
are limiting our song, SARDINES IN THE TIN. 
We must think bigger, and 
generate vibrations for the whole world to see. 
Poetry is so much more than a club.

WE ARE THE EYES OF THE WORLD! 

There is no communication more true than this....what we live, what we give, 
what we do--- It's up to me and you!

Details | Communication Poem | |

Fall From Grace

Like Wax Between the Feathers of Icarus,
                           The Structural Support Beams Melted.

                                     - They Held hands as They Fell -


The Copier Was Running, Fresh Sheets of 
Warmed Paper Slid Out From The Side.

                                     - He loved the Rich Scent of the Heat -

A Smile Crept Across His Face as He Felt
The Stare of Her Eyes, Gnawing at his Person.

                                      - Never Managing the Courage to ask Her -

Light Flickering From The Monitor Glinted off
His Morning Coffee, Office Life Was Tedious. 

                                      - North Tower Floor 108 -

Time Passed Slowly, But it Seemed To Pass Slower
As He Glanced Over Her Delicate Features:

                                      - Accentuated By Sunlight -

Communication is 98 Percent Body Language. Everyday
They Stayed Silent, But Spoke Novels With Their Eyes.

                                       - He made his Way to The Cooler -

Extending His Reach to Pick up a Cup, His Hand Met Skin;
Not Plastic. He Looked Up With a Nervous Embarrassment.

                                       - Big Brown Eyes Staring Back -

                                                      - The Calm before The Storm -

Rubbing his Lips Together as if To Finally Make That Step
Towards Introduction, He Was Interrupted.

                                       - The Impact -

Their Hands Met Naturally as The Dust and The Rubble
Fell About Their Bodies. They Dropped to The Floor.

                                       - Adrenaline Injection -

Clutching Her Hand and Weaving Through The Smoke
He Made His Way Towards The Exit.

                                       - Staircase Blocked -

                                              - Elevator Inferno -

Those Who Threw Not a Breath To Screaming,
Were Already Dead, But He Held her Hand tight.

                                       - Blindly She Followed -

The Wind Cascaded off Every Wall and Lead The
Smoke To Disperse as it Reached Open air.

                                       - They Stood in the Clearing -

The Fire Crept Up Behind Them, and The Ceiling
Began To Crumble. She Squeezed his Hand Tightly.

                                        - They Had No Choice -

One Leap of Faith, and Praying For Divine Intervention...

They Plummeted.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Inspired By The 9/11 Competition, Hope you all enjoy =]

Details | Communication Poem | |

PILLARS OF COMMUNICATION

                                               hanging bridge
                                             pillars at the end
                                              must be strong

Details | Communication Poem | |

peace

“Peace” whispered a child. It was an arbitrary gust that carried the word to a 
young man who repeated it out loud in a very positive tone. “Peace” he said and 
the message caught the ear of a sprite old man.

Loudly he spoke into a fast moving breeze “Peace’ he declared and the air 
carried the communication miles dropping it into thousands of ears.

“Peace” roared the crowd and the word grew wings and flew into a hurricane 
that echoed in the ears of the masses.

Millions uttered “Peace” and in an irony of nature the moving wings of a tiny 
hummingbird sent the expression on a trip that encompassed the whole planet. 
The declaration fell on every ear and every person was sure their God had 
spoken to them.

Maybe he had because from that day on every human had the spirit of peace in 
the blood that flowed through their hearts. Peace was now the liquid that 
sustained them and with it they could explore the beauty that existed both 
within and outside of them.

“Love” whispered a child. 


Details | Communication Poem | |

i feel so settled in your presence

i feel so settled in your presence
it seems so definitively calm here
i want to go on excursions never experienced with you and just discover

once upon a time i was a lonely soul yearning for any type of communication
i remember the footprints in the dust at every corner that had the scent of stale talcum powder
i remember the cable fluctuating between being off and on every other another
i remember listening to my old walkman under a few layers of cover when the power was cut off on a very cold day in winter
i recall sitting in the dark of my dusty, cobwebbed apartment letting the streetlight conceal the truth of my loneliness
i recall the draft coming into the screen in the living room and becoming painfully dizzy from daydreaming
i heard creaks on the stair steps and crackling in the walls
even introverted the darkness has a thousand eyes to truly see
even in hiding i cannot hide the from the strong stance stare of the obvious
knowing this, i decide to take a chance to makes bells ring like the freedom flapping of each wing....

....i feel so settled in your presence
it seems so definitively calm here
i want to go on excursions never experienced with you and just discover....

Details | Communication Poem | |

A night worth a million

Aching
Pleading
Needing

Silent communication
Electric sensation 
Caressing invitation 

Inspiring each touch
Eager to please
Give and receive 

Body quivering with trepidation
Arching with excited anticipation
Grasping with seductive intention

Feverent in the quickening moment
Violently elicting a deeming improvement
Lost in the heated movement 

Nails raking down impossibly smooth skin
Breasts supple begging for firm carresings
A pounding drumbeat throbbing deep inside

Screaming for satisfaction that must be fufilled
Like evolving stars orgasms exploding within oneself 
A night worth a million unspoken words

Details | Communication Poem | |

War Against The Flesh - Part 2

The Stench of Rotting, Festering Human,

Melted The Air, and Turned Every Breath

Into Decay. I Used To Keep a Pack of 

Toothpicks in My Jeans...But Now.

 
                - Just a Box of Charity Shop Rosary Beads -


Each Individual Bead Clenched So Tightly 

In My Fist, I Could Feel The Skin About To

Break Around Them. He Stared Me Out,

I Could Hear Him in My Head, Chanting.


                 - His Incantations Burnt Holes in The Soul -


They Festered Within, You Cant Reply and

You Can't Leave, A Stalemate of Will. A

Man Pursued By Hell, and an Angel, Rejected

By Grace...What Do You Want From Me?


                   - A Word Masked By His Breath -

                                    ...You...

When The Big Guy In School Grips You

By The Throat, You Cant Breathe, But You

Don't Cry. When The Devil Grips You. You

Don't Breathe and You Can't Cry.


                     - His Fingers Scarred My Neck -


Hell is Cold, There's Fire, But Not The Comforting

Heat, Just The Scarring Painful Qualities of The

Flicker. But This is Just a Taste, He Can't Take

Me, I'm Not Dead, and He isn't allowed to Kill Me.



                       - I'm Untouchable, Lest I Desecrate God -


...Communication With The Devil is a Sure Way to Start.


The Dust Rose in an Imprint Round Me as I Hit The Floor.

Just as He Appeared, He Disappeared, Leaving Behind Him

A Stream of Ash Which Followed Behind Him Into The Night.

I'll Just Keep Walking, Following The Light From Distant Fires.


                         - Hoping it's People -
               - And Not their Smoking Carcasses -

Details | Communication Poem | |

Our First Night

This Highland eagle
On his maiden flight
Atlantic ocean
Land in sight
 
His heart thumping
As he yearns for his dove
To share his life
Capture her love
 
This eagle has landed
Met with a kiss
The smile of two
Enchanted bliss
 
To his doves nest
The talk is sweet
Hearts on fire 
On their first meet
 
Doorway entered
Settled in
Couch they sit
Communication brings
 
They share a wine
A classic red
Eagle and dove
Romance is read
 
Music lovers
As they choose a song
In each others arms
It won't be long
 
Slow dance
Silhouette of two
Their minds embraced
Passions brew
 
Their hands on a mission
Clothes drift to the floor
Signals read
Amore
 
Together they sit
As their lips meet
This bed of beds
As their bodies greet
 
Undulations
Waves of love
This two lovebirds
Eagle and dove
 
Height's scaled
Heavens reached
Flow of love
Sweet like peach
 
Warm bodies
In breathless mode
This cage-less birds
On future's road
 
They lie together
True and right
My dove and i 
On our first night


http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/love.php

Details | Communication Poem | |

Life Lesson

                                   
I love being young, getting to ride the roller coasters.
The sound, tick, tick, tick, tick-like a heartbeat racing to the top.
Then, surprised even when you know it’s coming, dropped into the abyss.
Something always pulls it down, like gravity.
It’s frustrating, riding something so close to being dead.
So far away but still so close, seating rows.

I hate being so close to, yet so far from the row.
She was in with me on this roller coaster.
Adrenaline rushed my body so fast almost leaving me dead.
The blood flowed so fast emphasizing the highs of the top.
But something keeps pulling me down, gravity.
Here I am again, back in the abyss.

In the ride, weeks of no communication, the beginning of the end, the abyss.
The scariest. My worst fear of my youth. Looking back at the rows,
I see her, with my own image, my heart sinks more. I hate you gravity.
But it’s the only thing that fuels the roller coaster.
Nothing makes me happier than bringing it back to the top.
Let’s hope this isn’t so abrupt, so fast, like the last one, leaving me dead.

How I hope so much, so much hope still not dead.
The heart, the love, the eternal abyss.
Strikes me back with enough momentum to reach the top.
Lines, love, flashing like an old film, with rows.
Showing me a movie, reminding me of, a roller coaster.
The movie explained that the only thing that keeps it going is gravity.

Thank you gravity.
My worries are gone and dead.
Just accept it, and love the roller coaster.
Appreciate the loneliness of the abyss.
The reason you’re here is for the ride, not the rows.
I just want to enjoy the youth and its happy tops.

This coaster, like love has its tops.
But something brings it down like gravity.
Distanced with rows,
Never seeing her again, thinking she’s dead.
But deeper and deeper coming out of the abyss.
The complicated life of the young, the love of roller coasters.

Get on the roller coaster, rise to the top.
Don't worry about the drop to the abyss, It’s because of gravity
That you’re not dead, and I don't care about the rows.

Details | Communication Poem | |

Relationships

Can a relationship last without trust,
How long will a relationship last without genuine love,
What do you see when you look into your partners' eyes,
How do you feel when they are in your arms,
Are you comfortable with your sprouse,
Do you still see the sparks when you kiss,
Feel the energy when you curl up beside each other,
Do you still play and laugh with each other,
Or is abuse slowly creeping in,
Do you still make plans talk about future events,
Don't let your relationship become a daily drag,
Trust,genuine love,comfort,communication and care,
The spieces of a great relationship,
Season your relationship well,
And enjoy a life filled with love and more love...

Details | Communication Poem | |

AUTISTIC

A mazing child full of life
Unconditional relentless love
Touched by angels through the strife
Insightful blessings from above
Struggles with communication
Tries with joyful anticipation
Intelligence beyond the norm
Child of God within the storm

Details | Communication Poem | |

We, Community Of Weathered Communication -

We talk about the sacred,
places ancient as fire, palaces divine in quagmire,
getting lost in footsteps of artistic archaeology, uprooting ghosts in structure's facings,
We want to know why knowledge is forbidden outside the skin
of nourishment's tastings,
pineing for the verbotten dialect of perfect sin,
needing to understand why boats become skuttled in sands of dread,
asking why it seems angels along with demons our confusion conspire,

staring into faces of stone like children seeing new color,
wondering if those rigid lips will ever confess  a crime that We could forgive,
is there rhyme in love haunted by punished valor,
could there be trust established in harmony with ambition refusing to give,
communicating as birds before the malstrom
for directions to the shelter that made Time begin in form when thunder rung,
running into the genesis of Life & Death We trumpet like heros
congratulating each other for finding beauty in burdensome burrows -

J.A.B.  Dedicated to all community builders -

Details | Communication Poem | |

Ahoy There - Out Of My Way

'Twas a dark and stormy night on that dark and stormy night!
HMS Blunderbuss plied the billowing seas just off the Isle of Wight!
Able Seaman Steer manned the helm when dead ahead he saw the light!
He woke the snoozing Officer of the Deck to apprise him of their plight!

Captain Ironbottom (who happened to be in the 'head') was duly alerted!
He dashed to the bridge in his drawers to ensure that disaster was averted!
"By jove!" he cried, "Her Majesty's ships turn aside for no one, I say!"
He grabbed the radio, "Ahoy there! Turn east 15 degrees! Out of my way!"

From out of the ozone a voice retorted, "Suggest you turn west 15 degrees!
I'll not change course for anyone, so heed my warning if you please!"
"This is Captain Ironbottom of the HMS Blunderbuss!" he thundered back!
"I know the rules of the road! Turn now or I'll see you hung from the rack!"

Able Seaman Steers' eyes grew as large as saucers knowing not what to do!
Communication between the captain and the mysterious light was turning blue!
As the distance narrowed between them, neither would give a nautical mile!
The white-knuckled Officer of the Deck was turning pale with a sickly smile!

"This is Captain Ironbottom again!  Are you challenging Her Majesty's might?"
"Yes sir" was the reply, "You see, this is the light house on the Isle of Wight!"
Today the mighty HMS Blunderbuss rusts upon the Isle of Wight's rocky shoal.
Captain Ironbottom faded into oblivion due to the folly of his last patrol!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved



Details | Communication Poem | |

A is for Antenna 1

A  is for Antenna

A  is for Antenna, the two-in-one, receiving in and transmitting away.
B  is for Broadband, to fire away on the high speed  digital highway.
C  is for Current, what a beauty, it is all but  free- electron- flow.
D  is for decibel, not the horrible, but a logarithmic unit and a ratio.
E  is for Electrons, the teeny weeny charged particles, so light
F  is for Fibre, or simply glass that passes streams of bits as light.
G  is for Gain, could also mean loss, a measure of what’s in and what’s out.
H  is for Harmonics, often unwanted multiples that are up and about.
I  is for Ionosphere, the  upper reaches of appreciable ionization
J  is for Jitter, Who wants this unwanted, random fluctuation
K  is for Klystron, just a tube which, in the microwave range, oscillates
L  is for Limiter, thank God, the input to a system , it limits.
M  is for Modulation, a  wave-on -wave  super imposition
N  is for Noise, the hated disturbances due to heat’s action
O  is for Oscillators, they  are  from low to ultra high frequency 
P  is for Pulse, not of the heartbeat, but a quick  shot of energy.
Q  is for Quartz, the stabilizer that is piezo-electric
R  is  for Regeneration, recuperating-the- sick- signal- trick.
S  is for Semiconductors, not semi-precious, but indispensable
T  is for Transmission, making   communication finally possible,
U  is for Unlimited Plans, the veritable godsend for the customer
V  is for Voltage, the difference of potentials, one should remember.
W  is for Waves, electromagnetic waves not the ones in the ocean,
X  is for X-rays, against which the engineer should exercise caution
Y  is for Yagi,  it’s only an antenna, not a yogi or a tribal totem
Z  is for Zirconium,   hungry for neutrons in the context of atom.

That puts in a nutshell the revolution
Of electronics and communication.

02 Mar 2013

S.Jagathsimhan Nair

For: Cyndi Macmillan’s “ Z is for Zaria-ABC poetry” contest.

Details | Communication Poem | |

Computer Love

Daydreaming of you is all I seem to do.
Staring at your picture on my computer screen, wishing you were here staring back at me.
Your my computer love, my secret crush.
Leaving me in an intoxicating lush, your body I desperately lust.
If I can get to you through my computer screen, I will be able to show you exactly what I mean.
Long days and long nights of communication with you, helps me fantasize and make my dreams truer.
Love scenes play in my head, love scenes upon a fluffy feather bed.
I am dressed in all white, as if this was our wedding night.
You shirtless and touching me just right.
Delicate biting invited sweet kisses.
Deep staring makes my eyes glisten, and vigilant in guarding a possession.
As the intermittent gleams sparkling, makes the moon and the stars jealous. 
I shine my twinkling smile; the thoughts of you are so worthwhile.
So in love with your artistic style, I am leaving your picture as my computer background.
Being your virtual girl, I want to exist in your world.
Hypothetically speaking simply coexisting, sadly admitting we are only acquaintance.
Forever my computer love fantasy boy toy, I deploy.
Fore dreams are all I have of you, in reality I could never have you.
I just cannot seem to delete my computer files of you so…
Until the day we really make love, you shall remain my computer love.

Details | Communication Poem | |

A Thousand Dark Secrets

Carrying with me a
halfhearted smile for the
braver men than I.
The men holding tightly
to past perceptions,
live or die.
Suppose I whispered to 'em
what I've heard through
the metaphorical grapevines.
Suppose I lent a hand.
Would they take it as an opposition,
a criticism perhaps?
Carrying with me the burden of
a thousand dark secrets
and I can't even talk about it.

In the midst of a patriotic funeral.
In the midst of a best friend itching to climb
the first military branch he can find.
To join forces with the Yes Sir, No Sir mentality.
To ride shotgun with the
Everything You Tell Me is True assumption.

And so who am I to question it...
the lowly pawn of this game?
Instead I did nothing
letting it all burst into silent flame
As Open Rebuke gave way
to Secret Love
We said goodbye to the
Olive Branch and the Dove

What exactly are we doing
when we label justifications
to the lapels of the handmade uniforms,
"I will fight for YOUR nation
with a willingness to lay down my life
for a higher cause."
Yeah, freedom isn't free,
but it for sure ain't what it used to be...

Before technology wrapped
it's all encompassing fingers
around society, indeed the tables were turned.
If hostile takeover was your ultimate goal
you didn't need hundreds of thousands of men
fighting for you with heart and soul.
With blades shining, horses galloping,
and sieges laying waste to the villages.
Because of our Lightning Bolt Communication,
and our undying trust for the Order of Things.
Because of our Technological Overkill,
and our eagerness to unravel
the Tapestries of Our Existence.
Because we climbed too damn far this time,
unaware and uncaring of what was Left Behind.
Yeah, you don't need massive armies for your hostile takeover.
Just a few precious people in key positions,
commanding the grunts below you,
with a single pinpointed destiny to DESTROY!
"Yes sir, no sir! We fight for the Good of Humanity, sir!"

But what in the world do I know?
Lacking field experience,
bathing in the never-ending shower
of omnipotence.

I still carry with me that halfhearted smile;
that relentless indifference for the men
living and dying for the sake of me.
For those that fight for a time way back when
that no longer exists.
I still meander through the metaphorical grapevines,
both craving and hating at what I might find.
Cause I know most won't comprehend it.
I'll be the Judge, the Critic and the Enemy.
I won't dare express such hopeless negativity.
I'll carry with me the burden
of a thousand dark secrets... cause no one is ready
to accept Truth's hand.
I'll keep it to myself and no one else because everyone knows....

I'm...

Too...

Young...

To...

Understand...

Details | Communication Poem | |

Rain and Rain and More Rain

On August 29, 2005, the "Rain and Rain and more Rains came", destroying everything we had worked a lifetime for.  My home that we had just finished building, one year ago, all our furniture, keepsakes, irreplaceable cherished photos along with all our cars except the one we were driving.  

The only thing remaining was our boat, "Akula" who suffered a football size hole just above her waterline. I remain grateful that her batteries were charged well enough to continue to bail her out for two consecutive weeks. These rains came in the wrath of a lady named, "Katrina."  "Akula" means shark and it would take a shark to make it through this.

I remember I did not cry like others in my neighborhood.  I felt it was just a home which could be rebuilt.  I also know it did not completely destroy Akula or I would have cried.  There's something about a man's boat that befits both sexes and that something is called "Real Love."

Aboard 'Akula" along with the Red Cross, we managed to feed the neighbors for weeks on end.  You don't need to know about the multitude of snakes that were inside my house hiding in closets waiting to strike or the wild hogs that were blown in, eating from the plentiful tossed out refrigerators.

All you need to know is that the people were not lazy  The only reason they did not leave is because all of us have heard "Cry Wolf" so many times that when a Hurricane threatens it's just an excuse for a red Solo cup party.  Simply put: If anyone had known they would die they would not have stayed.

A few weeks later with communication restored we learned that two of our friends drowned, one in Bay St Louis, MS and the other in Biloxi.  I didn't cry.  Feelings are neither right nor wrong, they just are....



Francine's  Rain - contest

5/25/13