Repeated explanations shutter,
lights crawls through,
storing, and new glass encompasses over years.
Reds first flood into pink,
which bleeds into the silky handiwork of the toy maker,
a testament of effort and a drag in the dirt where wrists ache.
Chapters sculpt where lessons are learnt.
Green sidelines uniform greys where improvement and deterioration mean the same thing.
White pools where words were suspended and boiled to molten.
Blue hope swirls actively amongst it all, the promise of a fly’s infatuation to embrace the inside of a shell.
Colour explodes and light fractures through once saturated,
No matter an attempt at dignity, it bleeds through in a ray of illness all the same, shaking fingers glow a pink hue.
“I told you I was sick” echoed in the mind and it reverberates in the glass,
reds shine through upon reflection from blue, green and orange.
The image it makes stark against the atmosphere’s ivory.
The patterns stain all that the eyes drink with the pressing distant promise of return.
Contest: All That Glass
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
060826
If the content is good,
It is worthy to be shared.
Hastily, it will be consumed.
Very desirable, I long for more.
Is it bitter or sweet?
Is it weak or strong?
Is it a 'to die for' treat,
Or cause for retreat?
A life of 'question' is a glass half empty,
A wagging head on dead-end street.
A day of sunsets without sunrises.
Time is merely wasting away;
Little hope, no vision.
A life of purpose is half full,
Actively in pursuit of its mission,
Time and content fill the journey,
And fulfillment pours forth.
been actively not cleaning the bedroom hovel for almost three years
But this morning I convinced myself to try and get over some sorting fears
I opened box after box, parcel after parcel, bag after bag.
Most of this crap I threw out, thinking “what am I? a hag?
Why would I keep some of this crazy stuff?
Who am I impressing? I cannot throw hard enough
I will have enough for a bonfire to light up my forest tonight
But there is a wind advisory, so tonight will not be right
I have thrown away this, that, these, those, and the other.
Who would be the proudest? My neatnik clean freak mother
I wonder if she is in heaven cheering me along with a song?
That would be lovely I think as I am tossing along.
where does this put me,
when everything that clears the blur,
is actively trying to kill me.
I'm running in all directions,
since it was always all or nothing.
your frostbitten lies,
my golden glow,
the half-truths I tell myself,
to fall asleep at night.
I'm burning under fluorescent lights,
and it all feels ok, in that artificial heat,
until I realize,
it will only get brighter and stifling,
until I can no longer breathe.
Tell me how to shine,
without burning.
Tell me how to be a diamond in their eyes,
without breaking under their gaze.
Tell me how to fly,
without falling.
Tell me how to dream,
without waking up.
Whenever I sleep beside you
I wish I could touch you
Whenever I touch you, you go off in no time
I thought it would never be a crime
Whenever my heart burns for your enclosure
It brings instead an overexposure.
Whenever you are far my side
Little emmets retried
I wish they are far gone
As they make out my compulsorily learned turns
I wish the atmosphere is cool
My duvet should be a tool
Aren't it good enough a follow up
And sometimes; alarm's scrap of a hyssop
Found in fabrics designed to actively regulate temperature
Mattresses and bedding that feature Outlast pleasure
Perfect for couples as they absorb excess heat
Release it as you cool, store it
Thanks be to thee
What used to be shall stop to be
A great weird help
That would simply put a stop
To unwanted pregnancy
Hesitancy creating exigency
Though for the time being
And maintain common care keen
No more "hold me, I am cold"
It's now "shift, I am hot GOLD"
flimflam Freddy, Frankenville’s only funeral director
actively sought out numbskulls, dimwits and nitwits
an expert in cajoling them into signing contracts
assuring them that their funerals would be exquisite
he verbally mentioned doves, orchestra, and magic shows
none of this was in the contract they signed
a contract that guaranteed nothing
a contract that assured him of unbelievable amounts of money
funerals that cost others six thousand,
cost these nimb-nuts twenty thousand
in teeny tiny print it mentioned that additional expenses might be incurred
and they were
Skirts
With comforts,
Hollandia Yoghurt flirts...
Before each tongue diverts,
From the usual that alerts,
The change to an impromptu concerts,
In different stages of many a song asserts
Except for the atmospheric dive,
Our faces depict the shared skirts
Without sweet scents, breaths hive
Swaying gallant statues in style alerts
High concentrated inebriant consumed
Took our legs lightly easy leaning back
Subjected to change of hits well costumed
Our voices disown its pitches to its crack
Introduce us to the people we know not
And we mingle like been known for ages
It wasn't true but lively moment grown hot
Speaking truthful lies unlike most sages
Happiness
Staged liveliness
Interrupt able orderliness
And introduce apt funniness
In order to promote calmness
Actively seeking to warm night dizziness
Through the beauty of tease staggering fitness
Of our hearts pouring out raw felicity's queasiness
(For all the girls in North West Province)
I am Lydenburg's Lily,the fearless,flawless, blinding light at the end of of every cosmic tunnel.
My purity is so potent it cleanses the very soul of the landscape,leaving only sparkling perfection.
I am a pillar of platinum brilliance, making fresh snow seem dirty and dull by comparison. The light of the sun actively tries to hide behind clouds, knowing it cannot compete with my brilliance.
My elegance has it's own gravitational pull, bending the knees and expectations of all who witness me
I am the iconic, the incredible, the immaculate standard by which all beauty is measured.
Outside my window, the sun smiled.
No sirens screamed and no explosions resounded.
No tearful wails interrupted my serenity.
This, I thought, must be peace -
As long as I ignored the news.
Nobody tore me from my bed,
Bruised my skin,
Nor forced water down my throat.
My human rights, intact -
A privilege of my distance.
Ahhhh!
My cocoa tasted as sweet as my innocence
from the cradle of my recliner.
Why borrow trouble?
Am I my brother’s keeper?
My skin frosted as my heart shivered.
A cold thought formed.
The quote echoed a ghostly reminder from whom that question originated.
A chilling realization that hiding was actively choosing
to raise Cain.
Where was the chaos sown?
Where were the voices stilled?
I must not sit, I must not wait!
Comfort must be sacrificed,
before I also found that I had become the one who was not Abel.
All fulfilments of his nature attained, man is not merely a reflector of divine light but becomes actively united with Spirit. This state is Kaivalya, Oneness.
~ extract from ‘The Holy Science’
Jesus said, ‘My Father and I are one’,
signalling that with ego vaporised,
aligned with God’s will, He shines like the sun,
substratum of existence realised.
Awareness held like a flicker-free flame,
heart tranquil, nonjudgmental eye single,
with enactment of God’s will, our sole aim,
we delight as bliss pheromones mingle.
Tweaking this lucid dream, as of God’s will,
there being no sense of separation,
love’s peace dove perches on heart’s window sill,
enlivening God’s cosmic vibration.
God’s energy is love and is expressed,
by childlike souls who are by His grace blessed.
I feel it smoothly, gliding freely,
Liquid fluidity surging.
Not a fraction of too much friction,
An undulating path followed effortlessly.
Movement and balance allowing continuous flow.
A sense of harmony as the lubrication guides easily.
Embracing depth with no distraction.
No tension felt as if all melts with fluid energy.
A transition of like particles melding without abrasive motion.
A sleek silky transition is accomplished.
Liquid fluidity surges.
The artist textured an abstract artwork to the canvas.
Bold gradient strokes, are a pivotal attraction adding to the ambience.
Light, and layered emotion captivate through transitions and bold contrasts.
The paint melts across the canvas, intersected by frivolous bubbles and a masterful juxtaposition of cracked and fluid textures.
Each element from the fractured patterns to the luminous flow of paint, contributes to a sense of wonder of movement.
The more I gaze into this painting the more I see the effects of lubrication.
Imagining the paint is still actively moving freely on the canvas to a degree.
Lots of whys
in life:
Why this,
and not that?
And, dear Lord, of
all Your unlimited whys
why on earth this?!
And the whens, wheres
and hows
no less confounding --
explicitly, words do not
resolve themselves alone
dictionaries often shelf
what needs to be actively open
and boundless in mind --
the scholar paints
their arid landscapes
while the poet gives them
or-gasm --
Here's a more detailed approach
you don't need to be advised or coached
our behaviours
the love language we use
us together is a lovely mood
actively listening
trying to understand
showing concern
just holding hands
a kiss as a reference
understanding her needs
knowing her preference
the act of pursuing
with the intention of affection
being consistent in each
and every direction
nonbelligerency
48 minutes is
2880 seconds
Cryostat to
materials science,
plasma physics,
and reactor design
Terms that describe
Fusion decency
they had argued over the taste of sweetbreads
with her not willing to taste it
.So he said his wife had a different story.
He made mention of both price and referenced it to
the taste of chicken: she'd bite!
"She said I thought the waiters name was
Thymus!" " he said, who is Thymus?"Dolce Bap;
the high level of anticipation, show stopping caliber
The taste of Thymus"
Blackbirds actively search for food, yet not all seeds have the potential to germinate. Poets draw their inspiration from seeds, birds, and the sun. When a bird drops a seed in the forest, the sun provides the necessary nourishment. The seed may sprout or it may not. Similarly, a woman may choose to be with her partner; he could lead to a pregnancy, or he might not. She has the power to decide whether to continue the pregnancy, although external factors can influence its development.
In my creative vision, I have several compelling ideas that I am determined to share with the world. A fashionable item will achieve widespread popularity as it connects with its audience. A poem will carve its path through its distinct journey.
Importantly, the poet plays a vital role in driving the movement forward in establishing the movement.
If sperm were deposited into the soil, it is unlikely that they could survive like seeds.
Although I refrain from claiming that my poem will endure indefinitely, my unspoken words will grow like seeds, planting my name firmly in the landscape of knowledge.
I am my true self, akin to a poem that originated from a mere seed.
birds
often have a spare-row
flying
somewhere in the flock
extra
eyes and ears benefit
survival
with respect numbers
in
this or that tree grove
with
residential birdfeeders
ten
birdfeeders running
actively
almost all of the year
great
for photography and
perfect
when reading/writing
poetry
and philosophy
mathematics
and counting time
len
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.