The splendor of books enthralled me early in life,
being attracted by the weird animations imprinted in them.
The nascent imagination of the five-year old
morphed within me as an exploring book worm.
I grew up with other timely interests in the transit,
many passing passions came and went,
but looking for mystery the childhood book worm grew
as a constant companion creeping secretively in my head.
The lure of books attracted me to the bookstores
like an obsessed honey bee to the posy of flowers.
I enjoyed the flavor of the mystifying nectar,
concealed in the suspense scripted by Doyle or Christie.
In my journey through the corridors of unveiling mystery,
created by Sherlock Holmes or Hercule Poirot,
I took up their roles till I reached the precinct of the last pages
where the ace sleuths solved the enigmatic puzzles.
Although my old myopic eyes degenerated very much,
the strain over the years made the failing vision blurred,
the senile book worm still crawls to find the mystery clues,
letting me feel the power of fiction.
The deep fault of the human race
is that there are no individuals any more.
~ Søren Kierkegaard
Pixels in the machine it seems
Articulating world schemes, twirled
Reality for those addicted to a screen,
Too timid into be seen in between ~
Inventions of mad men with intentions of perverting
Common sense, it’s so passé
Loving everything but Roget’s suggestions~
Even poems must have an ending!
Menageries of words saying nothing, galleries of pixel
Animations replacing animates en masse
Nothing leftover for the poor,
who don’t exist except
in old picture books.
"The Daily Mornings of Strange Automatons"
lucid dreams
those clouds convey
the hidden mysteries
of waking chariots
sucked up in the vortex
heliographs flashing
the silver
yo-yo strings
we are like puppets
played for codes
with buried meanings
transcribed animations
staggered routine automatons
covered in words of babel
strange hieroglyphs felt
like braille the feelings
understood misunderstood
spoken mirror images
held to the open caves
of mouths breathing
breath like fog
polishing time
inhale exhale
away
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
Personification of the Elements – 9-1-23
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Elementals
Frigid currents gather stirring
Mists to rain hail in fists of fire and ice
From fractured magma stone eruptions
Crust and fire collide
In melted tornados
In hollows where minerals hitchhike
Into purple ruby hazes
Igneous bursts into fevered conundrums
Where four elementals convene
In cryptic crystals, intoxicated by emerald,
Fused laughing enigmas,
Shedding molten aqua teardrops,
Where fire and fury reside
Imprisoned in liquid stone,
Sparkling matrix thunders,
Compressed grit in animations
Of clear-cut brilliance
The Elementals speak
In captured eternal flames,
Water, stone and breath.
Floating in the air, clinging to a beam of light
Dust particles drift in and out of the soft rays
Bound to create a gentle place of worshipful
Promises within the caress of their wandering
Praise that seems to carry with it a silent prayer
Hovering in the gleaming sparks of a sunny day
The glittering brush of particles create an aura of
Mystery, sensitive to the creator’s hand of grace
Amid the image captured by time, colored in hues
Of amber waves, animations of the still, small voice
God whispers faith, hope and love amid the sparkling
Glimmers of hovering specks that wander aimlessly
Along the smiling sunshine shafts of elegant, weightless
Wispy glow that comes from the heavens and fills us
With a mysterious joy from knowing His warm embrace
Pareidolia Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: craig cornish
August 7, 2020
By George P. Lumayag
https://georgelumayag.weebly.com/
WWW shows directions;
Phrases soothe one’s emotion,
But limits configure to custom animations;
No to full show for security reason.
My nod and apology flow on the freeway:
“Coded in the web; viewed by the public”;
That slur online flushes at twilight,
My warmest acceptance at daylight.
It seems that Campakas river flows
And divides my interest and my emotion;
It's a boulder nearby, so strong and unmoved,
Flattens my heart; and my nerves keep stumbled.
The Boasting sun explain its rays
blare glare glare let the seasons charm
Assemble its warm
Hey there we're here
Thanksgiving gone merry on
Sharing days of Hardy laughter
Sharing is fair, what comes after
Animations of
aggravations nations BLOOM
AND BLOOM AGAIN
Cheer cheer world's fair and fairer
Then flare-up maximum cheers
Holiday haze here
monumental craze
Christmas is upon us
Gracious holidays
My dear eggnog laced
With pleasurable
Sensation all the
Merrier happy holiday
No objection here freer
Freer share care at the gates
Hollering to make a Major mention
At the gates cheer cheers
Holler holler louder
We declare we declare
Outrageousness sprinkling
Courageousness ALL HAIL NEW YEAR
Who shall we ever be
With flawless dignity we
Have tempered forceful greetings
Destined and determined to be free
As you dance among the leaves absorbing Autumns chilly breeze
Umbrella of colors brain ingests assists minds eye a peaceful rest
Totally brings you to your knees this peaceful landscape of the trees
Upon your eyes, gloriously pleased, boredom appeased, animations crest
Memory engages raking hordes of leaves as they slowly became deceased
Natures frequency of positive ion charged crisp cool air digest
Dance Now, Canvas doesn't capture rapture
Audible, amplified wind drifting hisses
Numerous leaves, blowing their own individual bliss dispatcher
Cleansing whirlwind whips frosted kisses
Enticing ciders, cinnamon and carved faced pumpkins to fracture
9/4/2017
Stories are mixture of emotions
Ethics, thoughts, messages in verbal motion
Threads of ages, more mature in milestones
Grandparents’ modulations, mimics and memories
Originated as a medium of self-expression
Flourished as a wand of promotion
Reaching to urban and rural world
Conquering trust and quorum
Introduced as a taste of creativity
Bloomed into a ubiquitous flavour
Energizing kids, kith and kin with kittens and king
Boredom was kicked out with kinetic knock.
Supple of fables, graphics and animations
From dawn to dusk; elder to younger; it’s a companion.
Hieroglyphs etched upon rock walls
Leave clues for future observations.
Egyptian artists in ancient times
Told their stories in animations.
Holograms are recent constructions
That employ 3-D displays
On two dimensional surfaces,
On which its objects amaze.
Slowly fading away into a world of what once was.
Imagines in the sky he looks to reflect animations of days gone by
And clarity appears to be increasingly more difficult to distinguish
And the fear of perishing from a wasted life fills him with doubts and illusion.
Clasped tightly in hand lies a faded picture of a young man;
Perhaps once a rebel that stands arm in arm next to a beautiful young woman
With infant in hand and a light in her eyes that he knows;
Is gone now because of him.
And while peering between various hanging strands of his colorless hair;
He notices the gray reflects not only the faded losses of color
But also the distorted reflections of truth and love that pull like an anchor
And haunts his broken heart as he struggles to stay afloat
I never did see a more beautiful expression,
as if all four seasons had exploded,
Imploded, eroded all the somber.
A wonder so delicate...an art she exposed,
utterly unopposed is the dancer's heart.
Animations of vibrations move through her,
a Van Gogh of flow;
like aged, cellared Bordeaux.
Wreathes of wind, sun and soul weave
down around her roots through her being,
freeing sensations into the air
as if with Gaia, a divine love affair.
Eyes drawn and beating heart unconcealed
She wields her radical, energetic shield...
The power to heal, to breathe, to love
above the brilliant sun, the stars, the moon.
Oh, what an orchestrated art in tune!
Spirit calls out to her from Earth,
the birth of sound and soul unearthed.
Oh, what an art I've observed...
The true art of a dancer's heart.
They used to call us moon watchers,
our eyes of guardian drones
gazing the random access points
of a diverting canvas of sleeping dreams.
My father’s old telescope shows me your surface,
your craters in which your skeletons may hide,
or where your cold rocks lay
without motion.
You must feel alone,
the uninhabited space much vacant,
the stars much too distant
to communicate.
Oh, but fragile moon, take heed of this:
we shall remain as your shadows,
animations of the hills that connect the valley’s still.
Sincerely, we, the moon watchers.
How powerful are the actions of our heart?
Our tongue forms the words that tear others apart.
Deeper into the darkness of hate,
head down, behind locked gate.
Feet shuffle not lifting up,
hands dirty with empty cup.
Truth shines on the sorrows of past,
how long will the coldness last?
I look away…
3D animations look so real,
pull me in; tell me what’s the deal?
Let me guide another’s life,
I got the answers, cut like a knife.
Eyes hazed over hiding the truth,
great big smile at the kissing booth!
The darkness shines brightest at this time of day,
I thought I had the answers; hear what I say?
I look away…
I retreat to the solitude of my own little world,
hiding and sulking in a life unfurled.
Deep beneath the layers like blankets in winter,
hiding the hand with finger and splinter.
Don’t reach out if your not going to stay,
don’t even look just turn and walk away.
I wont raise my face or even show my eyes,
I’m tired of smiling into the face of lies…
I look away…
“Edward Bear” is this creature’s official name.
However, as “Winnie the Pooh”, he has achieved fame.
He is another great Disney creation.
Winnie is a product of creative animation.
Have you ever seen a cartoon titled “Steamboat Willie”?
That was the first appearance of a mouse named “Mickey”.
He has a cute little lady friend we all call “Minnie”.
They are also products of animations.
Together, they have entertained several generations.
For many more generations, they will stick around.
In Disney animated features they all can be found.
Robert Pettit
January 24, 2013
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