Best Acumen Poems


Premium Member Terra Incognita

Peering beyond reach of human capacity
I revolve around the sun in a solar orbit,
Looking deep in space for origins of bygone
Going way beyond anyone has ever gone,
Exploring unknown world of astronomy
Searching light from first stars and galaxies
Traversing back in time where it all began,
Forming our universe after the Big-Bang.

Some 13.6 billion light-years my eyes reach,
Studying evolution, formation of galaxies,
Vast, colorful, mysterious shapes and sizes,
Eying origins of life and planetary systems
Probing, discovering, unfathomable infinity,
For one light-year equals six trillion miles~
A feat, only for the confidence of audacity.

I capture images spectacular to every sight,
Viewing light that is invisible to human eye
Locating nebulae, gas planets, dust clouds,
Collision of galaxies where stars are born,
Traversing back in time where it all began,
Probing galactic universe~ terra incognita.

No longer a phantasy, I am real as can be,
An eye of science and a mind of curiosity,
Intellectual tenacity and proof of ingenuity,
In acumen and wisdom of Astrophysicists,
I am the bold vision of infrared astronomy,
I am the flight vying hypnotic destination
Buoying on wings of scholarly inspiration.

Much is yet undone, for I have just begun,
Orbiting diligently until my work is done,
Until dreams become reality of my mission.

For insight into creation, I am the ray of hope~
I am the James Webb Space Telescope.

August 28, 2022
Placed 1st: This or That, Vol 13 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Title chosen: Terra Incognita

Note: NASA launched James Webb Telescope on December 25, 2021.
Images are being released starting July 12, 2022.
You can view the spectacular images at: Webb.nasa.gov
Webb is an international program led by NASA with its partners
European Space Agency and Canadian Space Agency.

Premium Member Inner Sanctum

Written: January 27, 2024
               ________________________________________

"Remember, the entrance door to the sanctuary is inside you. Why do you stay in prison when the door is so wide open? Move outside the tangle of fear-thinking".

Oh, a flimsy state over grief, issues, and dualism.
How do I find the inner sanctum of nihilism?
As the guillotine of deceit hangs in plain sight,
How tempting are laziness, ease, and blight?

True divine tandem can occur at a sacred site.
An inner haven as you dwell in glory and light
Yield the path to connecting with the infinite.
In an inner sanctum, calm flows over divine might.

Bewilderment seems sporadic at first glance.
Once you've linked culprits, anguish may trance.
I succumb when the climate renders them unwell.
Cluttered mounds of breadcrumbs lead to a swell.

Ascending free from ominous pits of dread,
Seeking trust across awareness lies ahead.
Sensing the heavenly spark that will soothe,
Illuminating the path leading to the truth.
 
Stillness enhances your perception of taste.
Find the light; the climate seems to be quaint.
How subtly do things reverse disastrous? 
I often fall into that abyss, myself in vastness.

The stain of low scorn darkens in midst of trust.
I stroll into the dismal clay of scarlet excess dust.
The ruthless grasp buried inside suffocates life.
In empathy, I endure the agonizing pains of strife.

Invest oneself in each mission and excursion.
These wonderful events allow for sensations.
Mercury is in and out of phase, as is the moon.
Be mindful of your tongue. The lips are strewn.

Flawed sensory acumen of a stray mind,
uncovers a spiritual path within a gild divined.
The inner sanctum door unlocks at that sight.
While the tulip blossoms with glorious light.

The soul sparkles with astral splendor and sequins.
In a hallowed realm, where rays serve as beacons
In my self-searching dedication toward eternity.
Inward cosmic trends enrich my trust earnestly.

1st place contest winner / POTD
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member To My High School Math Teacher

Thank you, Mr. Rogers (yes, his real name!) 
for rescuing me from teenage purgatory.

       Perplexed teenager, lacking social lumen
       pulled C's in English, D's in History -
       my dreadful retrograde trajectory
       projected no collegiate acumen,
       in prom discussions, practically subhuman!
       Then, your poetical geometry
       and sleek Cartesian choreography
       became my sailing ship, and I, its crewman.
       Derivatives soon danced in arcs non-static.
       Pythagorean proofs helped me progress,
       vectors resolved problems that once would vex.
       Your agile algebra of joy quadratic:
       my new hypotenuse of happiness 
       helped me to find myself... I solved for x.


Written 13 March 2020
© John Watt  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Rain and Stardust

.


                        ****
                   **          **
                 **              **
               **                  **

Furious with Zeus, a vengeful Hera searched the world
Until she discovered the most amazing young girl

~~A Native American with hair dark as the night
Atop a white steed she traversed mountains snowy white~~

“Let there be stardust,” the Goddess proclaimed with force
And the woman was stunned, soaring on a flying horse

“Let there be rain,” Hera chose to give her power
The girl rode above clouds, below her rain did shower

Forever Rain on Stardust would travel through the sky
With the powers of a Goddess as she rode on high

To shower blessings of rain on villages so dry
Rain sees the past and future, though she does not know why

The outcome surely not as Hera had intended
Zeus became enamored of Rain’s presence so splendid

He kissed the sky beneath her with bright rainbow arches
Today you still see them wherever Stardust marches

A Goddess rides now, but sweet Rain was once just human
And she remains bewildered by her own acumen

Olympian rulers outdone by their creation
For Rain and Stardust yet win human acclamation

                    ~~%%%%%% _,_,
                   ~~%%%%%% -"/./
                 ~~%%%%%-'   /  `.
              ~~%%%%%%'  .     ,__;
            ~~%%%%%%'   :       \O\
          ~~%%%%%%'    :          `.
       ~~%%%%%%'       `. _,        '
    ~~%%%%%%'          .'`-._        `.
~~%%%%%%%'           :     `-.     (,;
~~%%%%%%'             :         `._\_.'
~~%%%'                     ;



*By Carolyn Devonshire
Entry for “Rain, the Story”
A contest sponsored by Constance La France ~ A Rambling Poet ~
Form: Couplet

Premium Member Enticing Twilight

Written: October 10, 2023   
Night Bewitches                                 Sponsored by: Shadow Hamilton
A dream is a microscope through which we look at the hidden occurrences in our souls. Erich Fromm
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

In the placidity of the night's embrace,
bewitched the cosmos with an arcane grace.
The moon, a silver orb, may induce its rise.
Oozing its ethereal aurora over the skies 

Whispers of worm words waft on wafture wear,
As the stars spangle, their nexus is spare.
The night wiles with its vestigial spell,
Drawing us in, under a talisman dwell.

Penumbras plaster pegs poltergeists of trees,
The twilight augury decry casts souls at ease.
Geezers of nightgown awaken from slumber,
Suing solace in the Cimmerian shade to clamber
 
The eventide sky overawes with a cosmic array.
Stars bedazzle and coxswain us on our way.
Moonlight sumptuous aura in a gentle glow,
Steer us through the shadow as the nexus flows.

Ebony necromancy decry a glamorous sight.
Drawing us close to the serendipity of the night.
In this cosmic wee hour, dreams bear flight.
Our souls are raised, and our hearts blight.

So let us indulge in this nocturnal delight,
As dusk vamps, squirting a glamor of delight. 
Let us wander in the moonlit haze,
As sableness susurrous surreptitious sprays
  
Wee crepuscule twiddles, a plum night symphony
Where conceit phantasm and verity shed sympathy
Allotting an awareness acumen ariose and aureate
Upon ubiquitous utters uncanny unsophisticate.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

-this Is the Day the Lord Gave-

THIS IS THE DAY THE LORD GAVE!
Looking out life’s window,
Trying to find out why I am so sad and down.
I don’t blame the Lord for my struggles.
I know strife in life is there.
If I did not live a meaningful existence, life would have no meaning at all.
So maybe I am stretched to the limit but I will never give-up.

Standing, I pillar because I am my self-worth.
To those that suggest a difference, my earthly work magnifies who I am.
Justifying my subsistence, my affluence is only a gen.
The knowledge this provides is of a greater acumen.
May I say that living is first and utmost privileged circumstance!
The Lord is my keeper and to him I give honor and respect.

In this solitary world, we seek companionship.
We go through situations in our relationships and may lose focus.
However, the Lord is there for us in our time of discontent.
Regime is formed and we mindset.
Our spirits are inner cored for fulfillment.
There is no greater cohort than the Lord’s intellect.

I know because this mountain I continue to peak.
Without question, I am profound in my belief.
That the Lord is the keeper of my faith and mankind is the persuader of a different way.
In joy, I laugh aloud. 
I am not blind to the lies of mankind.
My footsteps are admin to the all-powerful.
This day is given by The Almighty God.

Do I hear an Amen?
___________________________________________________________________
Penned On January 11, 2015!
Form: Pastoral


Premium Member desert blossom - Dubai -

* For His Highness Sheikh Mohammed bin Rashid Al Maktoum *

oh …

how I’ve dreamed of you -
sultry mistress to the sun's ire …
dappled and coy amid the palms, a-sway
your eyes of the gloaming’s
vault shimmering with the Milky Way …
Luna, red as rouge to
blush your cheek of sacred sand
dune drifts, the waves of
your golden tresses …

you …
a flawless gem, shimmering
cut and polished with care and perfection to
sunder the sunlight into rainbows -
to focus the best energies and
acumen of humankind
and seed an oasis orchid with a
bloom, exquisite and rare …

oh proud are you
jumeirah, jadhab and mutheer ...
soon and sure
we shall woo each other -
you, Princess of the Arabian Desert
me, fool for your fevered wiles
tempted from afar …

you, immodest and lush
with such lavish loins of excess
arms of extravagance, beckoning me
decadent, seductive …
warm, endless summer night
whispering fancies …

take good care, my heart
the soft echos of its dire drumming have
yet returned from the firmament
final pulses not abounding ...

but the rhythm it
hereafter composes is graciously
sacrificed for your admiration …

offered up to your dream -
sweet song of your gilded breeze …

the aria of my tawny, torrid temptress ...

DUBAI!








~ 2nd Place ~  in the "Foreign Travel" Poetry Contest, Thvia Shetley, Sponsor.

~ 1st Place ~  in the "Landscapes Poetry Contest", Kim Rodrigues, Sponsor.

~ 6th Place ~  in the "Exotic Poetry Contest", Debbie Guzzi, Sponsor.

Tribute To My Fave Poet

Emotions diverse
'pon reading your verse
laughing and crying spontaneous
face a-beaming
tears a-streaming
joyful and sad smile-utaneous

My head is swollen
my heart all but stolen
wending across the vast pond
may stars shine my smiles
on you o'er the miles 
of whom I'm mutually fond

I'm honored;  moreover
positively bowled over
by your verse with acumen penned
of untold pleasure
your writ I will treasure
crack poet and much-cherished friend

TO TERRELL MARTIN, A WORDSMYTHE OF NOTE
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member This is Me - From A Friend Who Cares - POTD

Her poetic mind is uncannily artistic,
She can make a long grocery list
Sound like an art of Shakespeare
and still forget the humble Pear!

With her talent she writes poems
She can express the emotions
We didn’t even know we had …
Like crying over a sock losing its pair.

Her goals are so lofty
Even the moon gets  FOMO
When you talk about them...

I finally came to know how she
Writes the prize winning poems
With profound artistic acumen,
She probably interviews her pen
Before letting it touch the paper!

Keep on writing my beloved poet
Sure, one day you will be the greatest !
Form: Bio

Premium Member Happy 100th Birthday, Joyce

I do not know you well, Joyce
     But I know your poetry
          And your character and kindness
               Are there for all to see

Your words are crafted carefully
     And phrased with acumen
          So woven like a tapestry
               Of dreams, both now and then

Your brush is filled with imagery
     Your canvas made of joy
          Your poetic voice sings sweetly
               With the care that you employ

Your temperance is gracious
     With an empathy, profound
          And all who read or know you
               Are blessed to have you 'round

You write with such exuberance
     And give to us, the same
          So, it isn't any wonder
               That "joy" is in your name

While I have never met you
     I pray this poem imparts
          My soul, which you have softened
               Just one of many hearts

And perhaps, if I can query
     Just one more grace of you
          You'll share your words with us
               Another century or two ...

All the best of wishes, friend ...
               You are true POET ... through-and-through.




~ 1st Place ~  in the "Happy 100th Birthday" Poetry Contest, Carolyn Devonshire, Sponsor.
Form: Quatrain

There Was Born Only One Perfect Human

To write in a 'poem' that one is perfect
and worse yet, made that way by God
is to be guilty of arrogant disrespect
when it's yourself you praise and laud.

A humble person, who is mild and meek
would never pen something so absurd
and risk insulting God... His anger pique.
Such a person belongs in a swineherd.

It was only Jesus Christ, born of Mary,
God's begotten Son, the only perfect human.
Of one who contradicts that, be wary.
Such a person lacks humility and acumen.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Sanctuary

There is a refuge, sweet, whereto I rush,

          (Where all but clever words would be remiss),

               When cheeks of evening sky begin to blush,

     As setting sun bestows a goodnight kiss.



I go there with my pen to thus inspire,

          And churn my muddled thoughts to acumen,

               To winnow passion's embers into fire,

     Or fan a flaring phrase of 'what' and 'when'.



It feeds to me a menu, rich and rare,

          Of musing souls as mine, that seek to plumb ...

               The depths of rapture, beauty and despair,

     A feast of all we've been and may become.


          But ...


No meal is perfect, that I must bequeath ...
     
     And this soup has sharks stirring ... underneath.




~ 2nd Place ~  in the "Shark In the Soup" Poetry Contest, Anthony Slausen, Judge & Sponsor.

~ 2nd Place ~  in the "A Stunner January 2018" Poetry Contest, Line Gauthier, Sponsor ... N/A'd on January 24, 2018, in the "Premiere Contest Number 390 Any Form" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Sponsor.
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member Moving Mountains

Nullable gullible hear cheer
Wear tear people absorbing here fear
Wheedle needle arm to harm
Bare to where your broken tokens?
Sanatize prize sought fought
Human acumen great berate
Blunder thunder, yet ride that tide'
Form: Verse

Horizon After Horizon

I welcome change
For I realize this life as a journey
Travelling insinuates progress
Progress means change
...of scenery, of events, of climate

Everyday I search
Treading one small step in front of yet another step
Travelling in a world of discovery and understanding
Today I see in me more than I did yesterday

The more I forge forward
The more I am enlightened
Hence the more I improve

I change and upgrade my goals out of newer acumen
I discard my old values like worn out tyres
Thankful to them for having brought me this far
For the journey to continue
I must swiftly replace the worn tyres of old values
With the newly retreaded ones
...of newer, higher, and better values

Yesterday, this day was only an imagination
Today it is a reality,
But since I have attained it, shall I stop travelling?
Nay, that is against Nature’s Law

This horizon has enabled me to perceive
... a far more beautiful end which I couldn’t yesterday perceive
Nor could I ever have perceived it any way had I not travelled this far
To it I feel drawn
To it I feel summoned with urgency
To it I must let my destiny flow
To it I must ensure my efforts guide me
For in it must be the clue for my next thrill

Such is the nature of travel
Such is the nature of humans
And I am only human
Form: Narrative

Premium Member For Stone To Swim

I, cold ... cold as stone ...
But is that not befitting such as I?
Once, merely common, hidden deep in the earth,
Still, my quality made itself known ... my porcelain perfection

Shone in the sun, and I was freed from Terra's grasp ...
Across a great sea I was rocked, carried in care
To finally, joyfully, go under The Master's hand.
I slowly, agonizingly, emerged from the cloud-white slab, pure ...

Brought forth into all glory and consummation!
Stone saw, chisel, rasp, cloth, and paper ... I stretched my limbs, reached my
Fingers and toes to the ether ... arched my back in a repose of death,
Laid upon an altar of mocked coral, draped only in my net -

The Pearl Diver's repository of all things glistening and wondrous!
Oh, what exquisite orbs, those that grace the net's seam!
White, pink, and black opaline gems - iridescent ocean treasures!
Miraculous drops of milky, nacreous moonlight, hidden in Neptune's gullet,

Awaiting their emancipation ... finally freed at the edge of the diver's blade!
But that, for me, is yet a dream ... I am but stone, after all ...
Be content, instead, to gaze upon my keen beauty,
I, the polished progeny of a sculptor's acumen,

I, the refined, glorious bloom of stone,
I, the ivory issue of marble elegance,
I, the bairn of a master ...
The Dead Pearl Diver.





~ 2nd Place ~  in the " ... And Now For Something Completely Different" Poetry Contest, John Lawless, Judge & Sponsor.

~ Honorable Mention ~  in the "Brian's Choice Q, Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.

( This is about the sculpture "The Dead Pearl Diver" by Benjamin Paul Akers 1858, currently on display at The Portland Museum of Fine Art in Portland, ME ... this was a personal favorite of Nathaniel Hawthorne, and he wrote about it more than once. This is an incredible sculpture, especially in person )
Form: Ekphrasis

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