Best Adaptive Poems
Mastered Puppets
Of the voices thrown and never shown their cries travel well
A starving sewn with a bitter bone of their life a quiet quell
With larval lips that are losing grips where echoes only dwell
Their smile drips as they use their fingertips in a yielding yell
Left alone with a grunting groan their silence slaved to seal
Ruling the hunger zone a thirst on throne with a musty meal
Voices held captive and anguish adaptive with souls of steal
Their reality refractive with dreams inactive they still congeal
Mastered and strung with a tangled tongue they begin to pray
A heart hung and death unsung, wounded words they convey
With tears they wash as the sorrows squash their moral display
The sounds that swash in their postured posh soon fade away.
June.18.2018
Ventriloquist Poetry
Sponsored by: Anthony Slausen
This book of botanical images
in sepia depict the petals, veins, leaves
of exotic plants. Listed alphabetically are illustrations
with a reader's favorites’ marked with string;
carefully indexed, scientific, dun-drab
they conceal the dream of translucent petals,
leaves that reflect green light, adaptive roots.
In idle fancy, a dreamlike flower unfolds
upright from the page.
Suzanne Delaney
"In the frozen depths of the Arctic Ocean lies a strong, silent beauty~a majestic reminder that true splendor often resides in the calmest of realms." Quote by the poet
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Under the quiet, watchful skies,
I'm the Arctic Ocean, frigid~
a queen in a garment of ice.
I adorn the night with brilliant colors,
ribbons of emerald and amethyst~
the aurora borealis, my heavenly crown.
I cradle the narwhals, unicorns of the sea,
their spiraled horns tell tales lost to time
while they dance in my currents, a silent ballet.
My heart, a mysterious sea of secrets old.
Hidden within my deep trenches,
are mammoth bones and vanished Viking ships.
I'm the graveyard of deceased explorers,
their dreams softly buried within my chilly depths.
Polar bears are my knights in this cold land,
walking across my splendorous shoreline
protecting my vulnerable, majestic world.
I am the Arctic Ocean, adaptive and strong~
my icy winds echo of survival
beneath the captivating midnight sun.
The story of the thirsty crow,
heard during school days as we grew...
How best in it its wisdom used,
to quench its thirst that summer day
An efficient use of available resource,
to realise a fruitful purpose..
A display of prowess in its fullest sheen,
a situational managerial skill !
Relating crow with intelligence is
not just a random chance factor
Research has already proven that-
This ave is witty and wiser!
Strong in memory,mimicry and
understanding humans as well..
How well this bird integrates in our life
with its adaptive behavioural skill!!!
Elegant black and beautiful
dissolved in it every shade...
Leads a gregarious life,
Shares its food, whenever it finds,
with its kith and kin...
Spreading a message of joy in sharing
and a cordial social life!!!
Chooses a single partner all its life,
Builds its nest, feeds the young,
Protects and nutures them with love ..
Family values and responsibility, I wonder
how it plans and executes so well!!!
Corvus brachyrhynchus-
this is its scientific name...
Genus corvus has in it species numbering forty
American crow, hooded crow, house crow....
List stretches in continuity!
Oh crow! You have your place in
every walk of life!
Research, religion, ritual,
Mythology, folklore, cultural...
Irish mythology sees in you- Morrigan,
God of death and birth
Hindu religion regards you as
their departed ancestor!
Tibetian buddhists associate you with Mahakala
Omens of you are believed to bring
signals from the uncanny world!
You are treated as a connecting link in
the cycle of birth and death!
Oh darling crow! Cheers to you!
This poem in thy name!
I may not be in active, thus, I may be proactive,
They say I am knowledgeable, But I am also approachable,
Though I am not generalist, However, I am an Specialist.
I am persuasive and adaptive,
Direct and indirect,
Sweet, kind, nice and persuasive.
I may know less about tomato,
Even Less about mango, even too little about papeeeta,
But I know more about Angoor (grapes) that is not related to papeeeta.
I am Wine Steward, Knowledgeable in Wine,
And approachable to all kind quests,
Very talented in wine that everyone consumes to
shine.
I speak not, I trace not, I breathe not thy name;
There is grief in the sound, there is guilt in the fame;
But the tear that now burns on my cheek may impart
The deep thoughts that dwell in that silence of heart.
Too brief for our passion, too long for our peace,
Were those hours - can their joy or their bitterness cease?
We repent, we abjure, we will break from our chain, -
We will part, we will fly to - unite it again!
Oh! thine be the gladness, and mine be the guilt!
Forgive me, adored one! - forsake if thou wilt;
But the heart which is thine shall expire undebased,
And man shall not break it - whatever thou may'st.
And stern to the haughty, but humble to thee,
This soul in its bitterest blackness shall be;
And our days seem as swift, and our moments more sweet,
With thee at my side, than with worlds at our feet.
One sigh of thy sorrow, one look of thy love,
Shall turn me or fix, shall reward or reprove.
And the heartless may wonder at all I resign -
Thy lips shall reply, not to them, but to mine
?? ??????, ?? ????? ? ?? ???????? -
? ??????? ? ?????, ??? ?????? ??????.
?? ??????, ?? ?????? ?? ????, ????????
??? ??????? ?????, ???? ? ????? ???????.
????? ??????? ?????????? ??????? ??? ???,
? ???????? ???? ????????? ???.
??? ???? ?? ?????? - ?? ??????? ?? ?????
?? ???????, ??????????, ???? ????????
?????'????? ?????. ????? ???! ???????!
?, ??????? ???? ?? ???????? ????!
?, ??????, ??? ??????????. ?? ????? - ??????!
? ???? ????? ???? ??????????? ????,
? ???? ?????????. ??????????? ????
???????? ??????? ???????. ?? ?
??? ?????? ? ??????? ?? ???????? ????,
? ???? ? ????????. ??? ? ?? ?????!
???? ??? ????????????, ? ???? - ?? ???.
?? ?? ??????? ????? ???? ????????!
???, ??????????? ???? ?? ??? ?????? ?????.
?? ???????? ??????? ?????????? ????.
???? ????? ????, ?????? - ?? ?????. ? ????.
??????? ?? ???????. ????? ?? ??????!
??????????? ????????, ?? ??????? ????.
?? ????? ???? ???????? ?? ???? ????!
(?) Maryna Tchianova 2016
Honourably devoted to George Gordon Byron,
The UK, the US and Ukraine,
with deep respect for all the aforenamed literatures and faith in the Ukrainian nation through the thick and thin.
Abu-deeni,
Zekarian space queen
Ruler of the sacred realm,
where resides the seven suns
that encircles the vast
Irthendai nebula islands
She, of regal royalty,
holds the scepter of cosmic fire
The energy of a thousand volcano clouds
crackles at the raising of her fearsome rod:
A theta wave imprinted weapon,
which only she can wield and power down
Abu-deeni,
a righteous warrior queen
Wears a transmuting armor
that can change into any density
Her Cergigon mag-nav boots
makes her supreme master of gravity
She commands the Nth dimension knights,
they of unwavering loyalty
So many life-and-death decisions
by this queen are never taken lightly
Abu-deeni,
daughter of Xandar and Bei-hou
Royal seed from the fourth root
Chosen to lead, for she was the first to speak
prophecy at the passing rite of her youth
It was said by the keepers of the Mist Veil,
that a mighty she-Kartaga bird would be born
And her life flight would burn brighter than the seven suns
That she would meet a soulmate
from a distant place of unknown origin ...
A supreme adaptive being from a species called Ooman
Abu-deeni,
Zekarian warrior queen
Helped her Ooman future husband
destroy his enemies’ flying metal machines
Then with their combined strength, put an end
to the Hordes of the Void cosmic idol worshiping
Abu-deeni and Abel-adem
had a baby half-Ooman, half-Zekarian
It was a resplendent Golden Era of Xeno Tolerance;
that ushered in the eve of Edenic love,
and eons of universal enlightenment
Magical glittering tin soldiers joyfully marching across resurrections big sreen ~
Adorned anew within these sweeping sentient hues of silver humanity; tete-a-tete....
Created beyond the faciled imagination of a childs spectacular, swaddled dreams
Sitting inside panoramas pristine theatres, unblemished blockbuster seats!?
Hummingbirds hovering carefree aneath this gnostics laughing willows tree as
Porcelain dolls wearing sunflowers smile amid orisons breath of light ~
Aside, spirited zygote ballerinas pirouetting atop sanctities blue and white
Checkered picnics blanket embellished in all of their, emotive existential delights....
Presentiments adaptive stage being set upon this warm articulating Summers day
While as an acquainting whippoorwill begins their serenities exonerating ballad ~
Rapture; turning slowly this scented wax figurine between softened fingers
Gently to taste its pleasing fragrance; conceiving, scenics genteel globe?!
Tenderly tracing paragons once vagabond lips within, crayolas faithful colours of
A childs everlasting and majestical love, born, upon the throne of "Grace"....
****************************************************************
"Kings and Queens" ~
I am the Project Air Bridge,
The veritable virus lord-cum-felon of duty fraud.
Fumaye's privileged his bridge that projects pompous airs.
Maelstrom, mammon coextend where it forks and fares.
Transpontine ambulances shriek, hearses creak;
Cispontine pandemia profiteerings peak.
Lip service put onto pushy pumper,
Juggling jobbery jarred into cushy number.
I am the Project Air Bridge,
A villainous virus lord-cum-gubernatorial wailing ward.
I have federal flag foil my neckties,
Have federal fiefdom at my behest.
At home seizing states' supplies,
In style feathering my own nest.
Grave grin toward myriad plunders amassing in size;
Frivolous glee unto stricken states moaning distressed.
I am the Project Air Bridge,
A versatile virus lord-cum-omnivore slyly adaptive-jawed.
All foreign aids I indiscriminately swipe and sweep,
Compatriots in need, meticulously sift and bleep.
Cronies and bogeys bogart the most and the best;
Those in the doghouse, let viruses lay them all to rest.
My wheeling and dealing can always pay off,
Just owing so much to so many I always play off.
I am the Project Air Bridge,
A heinous virus lord-cum-Old Nick's Regalement Board.
Blanketed by bereavement are betrayed people,
Their wounds bleeding undressed.
Butchered for banquet, the Bald Eagle,
My plates attending undressed.
Muddy mug shades dirty cook;
Murphy's mug shakes leprous wine.
Worse stinks history's mug book,
Ever since its accession of mine.
Silver spoon feeds up mouth; siren's spoon feels up lips.
Sicking up are malapropism and spoonerism of freudian slips:
Feasting my eyes on boons cross air bridge,
No blink for victimized crossbones' bare ridge.
This is me, the Project Air Bridge,
The very virus lord-cum-Juggernaut Accelerator of boons-for-bones baud.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Between two lands of mountain mist
There lies the lower plain
Where bone-dry desert sands exist
In constant need of rain.
Yet still proud creatures work and play
Upon cracked earth each sun-drenched day.
The leather-lizzards, long and gray,
Claim ancient history
Entitles them to lead the way
As desert royalty;
But creature discontent prevails
From slither-snakes to slow pace snails.
Society's contentment fails
When creatures can't agree
On what good governing entails
Beyond democracy;
The highest form of tolerance
Ensures a neutral governance.
Equality with permanance
For creatures great and small
Engenders peaceful countenance
Among the creatures all.
This balance must be guaranteed
As peaceful coexistent's need.
Each individual creature's creed
Evokes complexity.
Adaptive skills mark every breed
With ingenuity;
Sure-footed misty mountain sheep
To prarie dogs who burrow deep.
Each predator allowed to keep
No more than is its due;
So every creature then will reap
Survival's gift anew
Without a lizard as their king
And all the discontent king's bring.
Author Notes
This poem is a sextet. The first four lines
are written in 8/6 ballad form with an abab
rhyme scheme. The last two lines are written
as a tetrameter (8 syllables) rhyming couplet.
The couplet rhyme is carried on to the the next
stanza as the rhyme in lines 1 and 3. Hope
you enjoy this inadequate nod to George Orwell
On The Evolution Of Liberation…
Once again
our humanity is taxonomically
mocked---no longer ¾
*****sapiens---a step
just below
that of being human. Rather,
today, we’re an endangered species---
a modern classification absurdity
indeed!
Though endangered species
are protected, we remain
open season game through the year---
our peculiar genus being decimated
by lawlessness and unprotected justice;
our punctuated equilibrium
deemed a politico-economic and
socio-cultural threat
to the ecological stability
of the parasitic symbiosis
that exist between
lighter and darker
hued human organism---
where the former
has evolved predator
while the latter has evolved prey.
Yet
Once again
in the scheme of creation---
despite the rampant
predator Attempts
at extinction---the prey
will rise and evolve greater
adaptive survival techniques
that will enable them
to overcome the off-branching
of injustice and nullification.
Know
Once again
as we continue
to trod the Jubilee Road:
“If God is for us, who [or what]
can be against us?”
Racist power mongers,
theirs and the flesh
of their murderous activities---
political, economical, social
and physical genocide,
are all like wild blades of the grass
of nullification and the wicked flowers
of injustice---trying to grow
in God’s vast field of human life:
The grass of nullification shall wither
and the flowers of injustice shall fade---
and the breath of God shall blow
seeds of freedom, justice and equality---
to fall upon fertile fields of liberation.
Babies and black men lead the way,
Shiny pristine heads, forceful and adaptive,
Contraception-less advocates of themselves,
Potential met only after forgiving the ***** while cherishing the teat.
Sometimes I wonder about you
Since you decided to move on
It took a lot of time for me
To accept, you were really gone
I made you laugh, I eased your pain
I did all I could think to do
You chose a bully over me
And your fathers money too!
I can't love and then forget
But a heart is so adaptive
To dull the pain of what was lost
That which, held my heart captive
You were what I loved the most
Then I found my true connection
Life runs so much more smoothly
Moving in the same direction!
I once thought it impossible
That I'd be over you at all
But now you're just a post it note
On my minds, past memory wall!
You seem displeased.
Were you expecting more?
A pony, perhaps?
A marionette?
What was that one thing
you mentioned before?
Yes! Bingo!
A Build Your Own Fairytale Set -
Complete with
Miniaturized Royalty.
I might have bought that
had Twitter not said:
“The Plastic Princess figurine’s
apt to adopt adaptive disloyalty”
and
“She’s made in China”
(whatever that means)
Winter is gone,
The snowflakes, melted;
The ice cleared
With bright sun shining above.
The heart, no more cold,
Layers of wool removed;
No more sheets required,
The temperature, not that low.
The sun, no more exciting,
The presence, scorching;
Ironic! the sun is different,
Stroke and Tan,it all has.
Its not even about the sun,
The climate has changed;
The surroundings adaptive
To live Life this way.
The trees,the plants,the flowers,the bees
All the same,always were;
Everybody and Everything is still there,
It's the weather that has changed.