Best Aberrations Poems
The azure ocean, home to the embedded enormous incomprehensible riches of mysteries and riddles,
More than the Mars, lies unfathomed, underneath the conundrum of oceanic colossal rhythms.
From the The Milky Sea Phenomenon, a sight captured as bioluminescence illusion,
The Purple Orb of the ocean floor of California and the Baltic Sea’s anomalous puzzles,
Like the alien spaceship put foot on the colossal quagmires of oceanic chasm!
When the underwater volcanoes erupt to perplex beyond imagination in huddle,
To probe and discern those gems of oyster shell’s luminous pearls dazzles,
Deep beneath sleeping peacefully in the ocean’s cradle!
The fatal enigma of the unplumbed immensely profound oceanic mysteries will never dwindle.
The more one plunges to pierce in deep muse its vastness engulfs to diddle!
The superficial waves in corrugation, are mere widening its hitherto horizontal hurdles.
The bizarre sounds emanating from beneath are like giant icebergs scraping the oceanic floor in madly rhythm!
The obscure oceanic realms, its myriads mystical appearances remains timeless, fancy of millions!
Eras and eras pass, the mythical mermaid’s riddle are yet to resolve,
As centuries pass, may replete with the witness of numerous human civilizations!
Like the Atlantis of Japan, from time immemorial, the oceans are abodes of colossal confusions.
The voyages disappear in the Mystic Triangle, who knows what lies beneath the mythical abstractions?
The twirling sounds of infinite ocean swirling in the sea shells are quite captivating, attract admirers attractions;
The archipelago one after the other vanished without the trace, as in Marina Trench’s aberrations;
As if the Phantom Islet of Bermeja, in its murky abyssal cradle’s magnetic composition.
The Crop Circles discovered beneath its bosom as if the signage of other world’s manifestations;
The oceanic phenomenon of green flashes meets the red tides, reveals your magnificent disposition.
Wants to plunge, swim like a mermaid in your mystical cerulean temporal lilting motion;
Oh, the oceanic conundrum more we try to fathom, the more we entangle in your cryptic chasm!
© Silpika Kalita
Categories:
aberrations, deep, fantasy, feelings, imagination,
Form:
Free verse
restless sleep, struggle out of bed
walking like a zombie, newspaper read
thought patterns familiar rise, am in their grip
over cravings nurtured thus far, we once again trip
recognising piquant dilemma, distanced from joyfulness
we reverse attention polarity, choosing playfulness
as an experiment to begin with, soon addictive
before we know it, our orientation meditative
continuous consciousness correction
whereupon we choose our hearts expansion
erases gently aberrations of our conditioned past
memory images of yesteryears now leave us all aghast
we know not about God or any esoteric spiritual technique
discerning mind lays aside urgings that make us weak
as we go in within in deepening tranquil silence
we rekindle flame of love by this dalliance
feeling lighter now, carrying no burden
shifts were slow although it may seem sudden
treading now gently, flowing like the breeze, at ease
we amble along in wonderment, aspect embrace-hold-release
31-March-2021
Categories:
aberrations, muse,
Form:
Rhyme
Ocean tides
Still frames
Flicking like cards
A sea of lives
Shuffling, them
In her hands
Chronological
Chromatic, aberrations
The years
That have come and gone
Silent
Still frames
Wanting to breathe
Their life, into me
Black and white
Once again
Flashing colours
Lights
Rushing tides
A deck of cards
'A Gypsy Bride'
One by one
She turns
"And
This
Is
Your life"
Familiar faces
In the crowd
Smiling
Waving
And then their gone....
Eyes
Staring
Beyond
The tide
Distant skies
Still frames
A deck of cards
Inside, my mind
Tents and banners
Black and white
Colourful lights
Carnival rides
"This, this is your life"
'A Gypsy Bride'
Voices and laughter
Years, like the wind
Shuffling
Them
In
Her hands
Once again
Trying to breathe
Their life
Their life, into me....
Ocean tides
A sea of lives
A crystal ball
'A Gypsy Bride'
Familiar faces
And smiling eyes
"This
This is your life"
"What do you see?"
I speak
Glancing, beyond the seas
Staring, beyond the tides
A deck of cards
'A Gypsy Bride'
"Show me your palms"
She whispers
"Today, they'll collide
The past
The future
Your dreams
This, is your life"
One more time
Trying to breathe
Its breath, its life
Inside, of me....
"What do you see?"
"What, did you see?"
Smiling
A deck of cards
Shuffling
Them in her hands
My hands
Chronological
Chromatic, aberrations
The years
Silent
Movie reels
Black and white
Colourful lights
Banners and tents
And carnival rides
A crystal ball
An upturned palm
"This, is your life
Enjoy the sights"
A deck of cards
Familiar faces
Making
My way
Through the crowd
Alone
Alone, now
Staring, at the tide
The tide, through time....
'Gypsy'
'My Gypsy'
'My Gypsy Bride'
Smiling
Distant eyes
Beyond the skies
"This, is your life"
She whispers
As she puts her arm
She puts her arm
About my side
"Wonderful isn't it?"
She says
"Here
Pick a card
Any card"
Ocean tides
A sea of lives
Dreams
And
Precious eyes
Lives....
Beautiful
Years gone by
Still frames
Still
In my mind
Carnival rides
Colourful lights
Moments in time
"Ten dollars please"
She smiles
She whispers
My arm
About
Her side
"This, is your life"
"But I only have five"
..........."My"...........
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~ 'Gypsy Bride' ~
Categories:
aberrations, lifesea, sea,
Form:
First there was oblivion, before emptiness began
Then everything grew from a (dot) and so forth into man
Using reverse extrapolation, large brains, and a plan
Intelligent beings worked this out, as only they can
Logic itself explains two plus two, if you do the math
Belief invokes a loving god, yet threatens words of wrath
Philosophy brings wisdom, but follows different paths
They all leave unanswered questions, and I don’t accept that
Some say why bother, ultimately we will all expire
Life doesn’t need reason, it’s a cosmic quirk we acquired
No creatures besides few humans, actually inquire
To what the fu*k is going on, driving me to great ire
Here on a rocky planet, in no mean region of space
Between infinite voids, our very own goldilocks place
Nowhere else in this universe, does life emit a trace
Two trillion galaxies of numpties, til we showed our face
What makes us so special, all beings are made of stardust
We observe novas and quanta, build weapons that use thrust
Split atoms, launch rockets, measure time, use tools to adjust
The apex of life, not out of choice, more because we must
Our task may seem absurd, whatever compels us is not
A universe seeks a god, and we’re the best eyes its got
Who else figured reality, grew from a tiny (dot)
And we will stop at nothing, to see past fate as our lot
Now we’re becoming gods, creating A.I. in the lab,
A logical next step, for robotic fingers that grab
No doubt will kill and rebel, try putting us on a slab
Exactly like we strung up Jesus, in one foul backstab
Oh who would be man, his intelligence driving us mad
Capable of loving deeds, only every bit as bad
Aberrations by design, or infused by E.T. cads
What the fu*k is going on, again what the fu*k, I add!
05/31/23
W T F got an N/A Doh!
Categories:
aberrations, life, perspective, universe,
Form:
Rhyme
I, brave Inca, I take maca, leaf of life and source of strength.
When I travel I chew coca, takes me through my journey's length
But, when I need great advantage, maca fires my fierce intent;
To the warrior gives great courage; to his foe, a dread torment.
Maca, maca, woe to women caught betwixt their men and me:
Enemy, take flight! The demon deep within the herb sets free
All my darkest raging passions, all my deep resentful ire,
All those buried aberrations. Objects of my dread desire,
Women were the spoils of battles; women had no right to moan:
Maca gave the Inca chattels, enemy girls just things to own.
Generals now forbid the taking of our aphrodisiac herb.
Female slaves no more are quaking. We our basest instincts curb.
Categories:
aberrations, historywomen, women,
Form:
Rhyme
Abdul abjects about abominable aberrations and abominations about adulation.
Adulation, adoration and add adulteration as an aberration of approbation.
All Abdul's articulations about administrations admiration’s and amalgamation
and accumulation as an alleviation and annexation about Abdul's alienation.
***For Gwendolen's contest, "Tongue twister."
Categories:
aberrations, funny,
Form:
Rhyme
The morning births a new day's sun
Revealing night's shadowed pun
Why this road, you ask of me?
Something wrong, I've done to thee?
My body weighs like anchored ships
No words I speak from quivering lips
My hands are bound, my mind is spent
As thoughts incarnate my lovers scent.
My sight is scant, a labored breath
Desperate cries, My soul near death
Each beat my heart now pays its dues
For loving you was mine to choose
I lye in angst, a tattered seam
A chapter closed on lover's dream
Oh my lord, my dearest friend
I pray to thee in hopes to mend
This broken heart, of saddened tale
To find the truth where others fail
My dearest God I crave thee now
Since my love has flown to thou
These answers that I fail to find
Aberrations of a flailing mind
Imprison me from heavens love
And make me doubt my God above
But I will not let idle mind
Keep me from my destined time
For life is short and one day near
I'll hold the one I love most dear
So steadfast will I trust in him
And never doubt my God within.
Categories:
aberrations, depression, faith, grief, hope,
Form:
Couplet
Luminescent shadows follow me around, but vanish as I ask who’s there?
Scary monsters and super creeps wait on every corner; a voice whispers beware
I start running I’m trying to gather pace; I’m running faster and faster but I hardly move
The faster I run the slower the cadence becomes; asks the whisper what do you have to prove?
Am I running from monsters past or ghosts hiding in the future?
I turn my head frantically to listen; the whisper is faint in the viscous ether
My pillow absorbs my drenching sweat, my legs kick and run, no stable ground
Frightened heartbeats, timid murmurs beg for reprieve, no more whisper, I can’t hear the gentle sound
Images changing proportions, gravitation bending scary faces
Electromagnetic transformations, shadows form a gigantic ghost
No awakening, remain in your abyss, where is the whisper I need most
My consciousness is chained by subconscious spectres; confront the phantom, the chains do not break
Oh gentle whisper cut me loose, help me to these images forsake
Collisions, particles bombarding subliminal pores, expose my soul to ricochets of guilt, conflict, pain
Prescribed orbits, predetermined order or tangents of love and desire
What to do, whisper to me, I am become insane
I spiral down into depths unknown to conscious science
More scary monsters, more super creeps, more shadows changing hue
Awake from this abysmal torture, send a whisper, bring me back to you
Sticky ghouls and distant memories collide with alpha particles and gamma rays
Chromatic aberrations confuse my vision and distort awaiting silhouettes
I too collide, I too am distorted as I enter the chasm where the mind forgets
Subatomic beings coagulate as memories; juries of demons saturate gaseous mixtures
Bubbles and froth and osmotic spirits, hallucinations from black and white pictures
Parallel curves and helical lines bend and warp my mind, I cry I scream I want I need, break free!
No space no time no light no sound no love; guilty condemnation, empty reality
The central singularity beckons, no return from unconscious waste
Anonymous fields bind me, commanding struggle to abate
Dimensionless objects, cold physics, primordial fear; Nightmare, no reprieve, take me to my fate.
Categories:
aberrations, freedom,
Form:
Verse
Persuasion's possessive verses
'midst absolute poetic madness
surrendered in rhapsodic poesy,
poets are a tidy sum of quirky &
care zilch of external perceptions,
content to breathe 'round seduction
and unicorns' phantasmagoria
insomuch nonsense amid candor,
directionless winds 'neath allegory
'pon posies and dragon's intimation
twisting mundane to vibrant intrigue,
translations representing prism's
kaleidoscopic colorful impressions
and themes of whimsies' schematics,
transparency & transcendence yielded
'neath abstraction's elaborations,
refining & expounding unspoken lyrical
compositions of a fancied expose
commencing communed communication,
redundancies' excesses never take recess
panoramic hues of conceptualizations' foibles
reverberating gusto of paradoxical aberrations,
chromatic visuals swaying eye's sensory perspective
distorting brain synapses proliferating alterations,
dancing 'tween fiery moonbows & dandelion whims
'pon emotions flabbergasted mid-starry night folly,
prancing within rain's whetted infidelity of sunrises
hanging amongst cosmoses' effulgent constellations,
feet never planted firmly in earthy burnt umber
viewing worldly horizons differently upside zest's zing
of inky relished sublimation and shifting symmetry - -
and we make naught apologies for imperfect paragons
Categories:
aberrations, allegory, humanity, hyperbole, imagination,
Form:
Prose Poetry
(Haiku)
Gold dust rides whirlwind,
softly speckles wet canvas,
Lost Dutchman Mine found
Prose ~
"Maggie save your strength..." words whispered in the corridor of a prestigious art gallery in Paris, France. The elderly lady, dressed in black and trimmed in lace, is a prisoner of her iron chariot.
Sixty years had passed...
Quietly, she stood transfixed
A Blue Bonnet wax figurine -- in a shop
An old lady trapped in an oil painting
But opportunity comes
To escape the canvas
Smell the cherry blossoms
Exhale sublime liberation
Never had one gasp
felt so -- good.
A rainbow sphere shadows the painted desert
Trailblazers and pioneers have sought treasures
The Superstition Mountains and Lost Dutchman Mine
Snow-capped peaks and haunted canyons
This desert is refuge to insidious creatures,
venomous snakes, scorpions, and the hella monster!
It creeps within clay crevices
Beneath shale, rocks, and cactus
A silhouette seated on a rock...
canvas colored with oil colors
and raw sienna imagination.
Prisoner of lost love
Heart bound in iron shackles
Signature faded away...
by humidity and time.
Her secret no longer
a palace phantom
Aberrations refracted
by the midnight moon
Pedestrians pass by...
Tumbleweeds on the Tucson tundra
Tis' long ways from Arizona
A Mirage...
creating colorful portraits
beneath sublime peacock paradise.
Today's cause for celebration
Ninety-four years have gone to dust
Reincarnation reborn...
her last will and testament
seen by eyes of others.
She smiles gracefully,
her grandson hands her
a Peacock feather.
Maggie May Lancaster,
signature etched
with a trembling hand.
Maggie smiles one last time...
feather wedged between cold, clenched fingers.
Wrinkled face petrified with peacock passion;
saturated with solitude, solace, and grace.
Her ice cold -- steel blue eyes glisten
Like the look of a Norwegian sailor
Aboard a cog ship cruising Arctic waters.
Now she can return to the picture
Her painted face
Resembles the rainbow
Categories:
aberrations, age, art, birthday, death,
Form:
Haiku
scream of awareness
like factor fifty lotion
a screen of cognizance
shields emotions in
rational thoughts
perceptions
illusions
mere grasps of appreciation
slice through an underworld
of dreams wishes misunderstanding
the past reeks through
misrepresents disallows
creates a narrative of survival
in the here and now
which harbours goalposts
dead ends aberrations diversions
if the road is wide enough
there is a place for turning around
at the cul de sac
listening to stepping stones
and trivia which overcome
the need to take and live life so seriously
we engage with life every day
die only once
fully aware or not
what the journey entails
if I can grasp a twiglet of truths
to keep shape or brake
in the full knowledge
that few things matter
passion and fire
can be rekindled
which only comprises
kindness and love
16th May 2023
Categories:
aberrations, appreciation,
Form:
Free verse
What are mental aberrations when in a deep state of meditation by focusing on rejecting all thoughts and senses, and allowing the body to exist autonomously?
To call them visions is to purely describe the minimalistic tangible visual evidence of the experience without regard to meaning and other sensual possibilities. In Genesis 40 of the Bible, Joseph was able to extract meaning from the visions of the baker and cupbearer while they share the same prison. The two men were unable to understand, as they were passively experiencing the visions.
However, to be your own Joseph would require an active experience of these visions. Is this possible? It is if you are actively receiving while in a state of nothingness.
All conflicts must be removed, including the anticipation and understanding of the origin of such experiences. Only when you profoundly receive clarity of understanding may you know their origin. Is the experience from God, Satan, you, someone, or something?
Theologists call this activity being in a state of prayer, or is it? What would you call it?
Now that you are on the Path of Kabir, what truths will you find?
Where spring, the lord of seasons reigneth, there the unstruck music sounds of itself,
There the streams of light flow in all directions, few are the men who can cross to that shore!
There, where millions of Krishnas stand with hands folded,
Where millions of Vishnus bow their heads, where millions of Brahmas are reading the Vedas,
Where millions of Shivas are lost in contemplation, where millions of Indras dwell in the sky,
Where the demi-gods and the munis are unnumbered, where millions of Saraswatis, goddess of music play the vina,
There is my Lord self-revealed, and the scent of sandal and flowers dwells in those deeps.
—?Kabir, II.57, Translated by Rabindranath Tagore
by,
Martin Braun
3/17/2020
Categories:
aberrations, inspiration,
Form:
Free verse
If love was a forest
I tip toe the climb through its beating heart
There is lost love, the dry deaf leaves
Strewn ground high and spread thick with utility
And there is love yet felt
The young vigorous flora juicing on the branch or vine
Waiting to be plucked or forced fall head over heels
Onto it's destined prey
And there are rocks, dirt and the melange of mayhem
Where love trips and collides with mortal wonder
The unsuspecting hearts and whims of others
Where considerations can be aberrations
Sometimes forcing scrapes and cuts and wounds
That may never heal
Yet to walk through...
To stop at times and gaze along the way
To wander deep into impervious platitudes which lure and mesmerize
To lose the path, endure the anguish
Where light goes missing and no direction leads home
To survive despair, starvation and last rites
Only to be saved by an angel
Made of sunlight and magic elixir
Especially for, and only capable of being consumed by you
...is reason enough to press on.
(10/18/14)
Categories:
aberrations, beauty, happiness, journey, joy,
Form:
Free verse
Inheritance
We are guardians of the future are trustees for
posterity though wars galore are our legacy
We leave to our children the genocide in shining armour
destruction that we vowed not to happen again
Its all in the mind and however we feel not involved we
soak up the human condition promote it in our thoughts
At the airport I picked up two of my triplets 23 now and
with one staying behind 23 plus 23 plus 1 = 47
It should have been easy to remember my parking lot number
2 K 47 two kind children and one loved one missing
My age when I met my lover 47 the writers ‘group 47’ maybe
the white death hunger winter in Europe that time
47 days until Christmas and 2 Kinfolk to arrive yet I however
instead chose 2 AK 47’s as my mnemonic automatically
As in 2 angry Kalashnikov guns blazing me back to that dark
gloomy place where my car had been rested for later
What kind of light what remembrance and outlook on life has
been planted like a bomb in my destructive perception
Do I accept when words convoluted connotations sinister
aberrations seep and creep the into the percipience of what I call home
Or must I refuse not to become guilty of killing by proxy
of destroying the heirloom in mind and in spirit
By not standing up to that covert insidious manipulation and
domination taking place in my head I suppose I am guilty as charged
14th November 2016
Categories:
aberrations, future,
Form:
Free verse
The roaming minutes encircle my thoughts
As I delve romantically into the possibility of falling
My associations, they tend for the lift
When my vicarious aberrations cause a pigs tail in their midst
Yet their overworn malicious grin tends to me a harrowing mystique dealt subsequent
Therein, in lieu of stirring a stew in such autonomous disparity, as of late,
I wave the waiter over for the check
and leave breadcrumbs sticking to my plate
Categories:
aberrations, allegory,
Form:
Personification