Best Alveoli Poems
Prickly cool fills my lungs,
Like a bladder canteen on a Bedu dromedary,
Sloshing the alveoli that branch, internal ...
Frozen filligree fanning my firkin chest.
I blink a tear, staring up at the belt of Orion,
Cold as the snow that wraps me like mother's womb.
Forever lost in the frightening beauty of God's providence,
I sacrifice my last breath to the naked, shimmering heavens,
Letting the night devour me, tender and bleak,
As I dream ... of sand castles.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Early March 2019 Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
Categories:
alveoli, appreciation, conflict, loneliness, lost,
Form:
Free verse
Limbs flailing under leaves
These rows of second sight
That go with the reeling —
Like a dream too much dragged,
Her strange flesh is peeling.
Limbs flailing under leaves
Scraps of a wood tongue speak
To the womanly walls —
Where they perish upon
Shadows of her by dawn.
Limbs flailing under leaves
Their temperaments cool down
As she sips tea of trees —
There alveoli kiss
Autumn flickers on green.
Limbs flailing under leaves
How groans the bark's glory
That thinks of drift in dark —
There a fallen place warm —
...none hold her in her loss.
Categories:
alveoli, angst, autumn, dream, introspection,
Form:
Monchielle Stanza
How marvelous that when we bleed,
To staunch a flow with little speed,
If not too deep, no bandaid need.
A miracle occurs indeed:
The platelet, wondrous little seed,
Exposed to air, sprouts like a weed,
Creates a mesh from here to there
It shortly spans, forms little hairs,
And fairly soon is everywhere.
And with our little mesh in place,
The blood cells can no longer race
Out of the wound with rapid pace.
Of course, you say, blood clots in air!
Sure, obvious, but to be fair,
The lungs don’t clot; that’s hard to square.
Perhaps it’s sentient, it knows
When traveling along the rows,
Like capillaries in your toes.
Yet somehow, it detects your harm
And raises up the fire alarm,
And to your wound, the platelets swarm.
In tiniest alveoli,
The blood, in contact with the sky,
If clotted here, could make you die.
But when with lungs, you must inhale,
The complex steps we’ll not detail
Do not transpire or you would fail
To even take another breath,
Or contemplate your last regrets;
Your life would quickly end in death.
So marvellous, so wondrous made!
Attention to great detail paid,
Allowed sometimes, elsewhere forbade.
No chance involved, you’ll not persuade;
Yet once again, it should be said
That we are fearful, wondrous made.
Categories:
alveoli, appreciation, inspiration,
Form:
Rhyme
i was explaining this at the
breakfast table
my wife pulled that electric chair face
but i consider
that it is better to
be adventurous than
cautious
my son takes another bite
of his jam on toast
and my wife
gives me those
ultraviolet light looks
she is our ozone layer
preventing
us from ripping apart
our
delicate
alveoli sacs
i am her wrinkly moon man
Categories:
alveoli, addiction, house, humor, humorous,
Form:
Free verse
My lungs are black but my heart is pure
My hair is thin and falling out in the wrong places
At this point my days to live are measured with an hour glass
The size of the smallest taxa
My memory is a bank of a hundred and one bad choices
Two thirds look like a previous poem I wrote,
one which I used a cigar to craft the smoke that is to swallow my alveoli whole
I am using one as I write this, and I’ll probably smoke another one after I’m done
These are the habits I have
The habits I adopted from the apple that fell far from the tree,
The forbidden fruit.
Categories:
alveoli, angst,
Form:
Free verse
Good ‘n Wild with Bad ‘n Tame went awondering
On whimsical wings spinning together a tornado
Only exhaustion rested their reality of much ado
Don’t debated do, as wildly a passion conquered…
‘Never take on the wild for it leaves all forsaken’
When good looked at bad, bad saw, as it knew
Into a tame, fierce winds air-force-filled alveoli
Lust inhaled, filling balloons, lifting up to aerial
Depleted heights, gave a bird’s eye, ‘n taunted…
“Does good turn bad or does the wild get tamed?
Death’s by slow suffocation or resounding crash!”
(1/31/2020: Inspired by two contests &
‘00 Searay Sundancer 260: Riverbank)
PS - To my readers and fave commenters – I’m off for four months (maxing the visa) tomorrow to go visit with my elderly father and give my younger sister a bit of a break from worrying about him. I may get some connection to the www every now and then but not guaranteed. Hope to be back with more to write and to catch on yours...read and talk with you again at the end of May :)
Categories:
alveoli, adventure,
Form:
Grook
Self-dissection
By Stina lu
Stab yourself with a sharp dagger
Fresh blood splashing
No one stops you
There’s no piercing scream
No one scolds you
There's no worry about curses and reprisals
To air your pure heart in the sunlight
Wipe gently the humble soul
To hold your guts high up in the sky
Let the moon and the sun penetrate and judge.
Stop the bee humming in your head
Place reason on the left brain
and passion on the right side.
They don’t owe each other.
Dust covered thick in your lung
which should be peeled layer by layer.
Make your breath smooth again
Every alveoli feels fresh
After all this labor
Clean the wound and suture it
Time will erase it
A new lease on life
A reborn phoenix arises from the ash
Categories:
alveoli, blessing,
Form:
Free verse
Blue flowers on yellow dreams become green
Life moves on and on in the evergreen train
A single green leaf may pale and fall in dust
Green towers of bubbling life never succumb
In your deep and light green lovely shirt
I breathe deep and inhale your perfumed green
Through my nostril into the alveoli of my lungs
The warm green releases rivers with dream wave
Green exhalations sit on your glorious face
It is silky soft suave sweet savoury green grass
Spontaneous birds come and peck in green delight
My whole being is a tree of green ecstasy
Gray and black interruptions of course do come
But all in all it is green that triumphs invariably
--------------------------------------------------------------------
1 March 2016
Categories:
alveoli, allusion, bird, dream, emotions,
Form:
Free verse
Sometimes, the pernicious
is just desserts like alveoli
losing pink to a ciggy devil
Love - an enterprise astral
yields to blemish: mockery
Garish sentry sneers, reflecting
on a visage muting its boo-hoo
on a traverse still willed in woo
Silly teeter-totters with serious
editing tears that dampen a life…
(10/31/2020: Gibson HB, DMS)
Categories:
alveoli, allusion,
Form:
Free verse
Alveoli burst in seething pain
Green bile floods out of lacerations.
Cruciform expletives implode into disaster.
I slice cornea's from my weary eyes.
Scum stained nails rip teeth from jagged mouths.
I stood in the womb of creation and cried.
Assailed on all sides by the blinding dark.
Categories:
alveoli, depression
Form:
Free verse
A mind can be renewed if a mind can be observed
What exaggerated stories, what web of lies do I tell myself,
When things go wrong? Do I go on and on ... about what I deserved!
Enter the ancient practice, I have begun to bring out of my back shelf
Because I assumed Jesus prayed but unlike Buddha, refused to meditate ...
Assumptions confuse worldviews - refusing The Spirit to have all of myself!
When a younger person says, "I admire this or that trait
In you," O the trees look their greenest, even RED lights flash their rightest ...
Recall living WORDS of LIFE, and do not receive flying "gifts of hate!"
It seems hard work; as with poems that pass the basic writing test:
Refusing to repeat negative words, from friend, family or foe. Breathe deep
And meditate on how we breathe, on oxygen, sifted expertly from the rest ...
A wonder that Oxygen alone passes nostril to enter each cell Deep ...
Via astute alveoli, who turn off every other gas! Turn off poison (bad words)
We cannot replay them in our minds, over and over, even in sweet sleep!
Jesus, Jimmy Carter, Mandela ... do not hit "REPEAT" on words that disturbed
Their disciples: Forgiveness is That Faith For Future Fruitful Survival - a must -
To avoid poisoning all life on Earth: "Watch & Pray. Reject recycled word-turds"
As I stand before the Cross, marvelling at the dazzling divinity of agape love!
Categories:
alveoli, abuse, change, christian, deep,
Form:
Terza Rima
Ah... how envious, those young, restless, and fecund...
Lucky young guys and gals
admission courtesy yours
truly finds small (medium)
poetaster at large rubicund
perhaps anonymous reader
lollygagging (cyber space)
while away leisure stunned
boot why such shock despite
old & decrepit peppy gunned
no longer doth comb when
god ole temptation beckoned.
Peak procreative years (mine) 4 foo
fighting excellent seamen amidst goo
(albeit sticky) nevertheless, envious
(guess) no matter libido truly extinct
flagellum equipped motile squirming
microscopic male reproductive cell.
Yes... inexplicable to yours truly why
upon waning hours of April seventh I
a run of the Mill (on the Floss) mellow
solitary, ja Democratic trumpeting guy
(donned with predilection to reflect his
nonestablishmentarian 20/ 20 hindsight)
every now and again prompted well nigh
ruminate, notate, incorporate...by and by
to experience fatherhood at least once
again though not a parent I feel gun shy
especially mine eyes seen glory... when
these out of sight myopic left and right
brown (not tubby cornea er anything)
aye shudder to think "camera-type eye"
cannot envision day of reckoning when...
hate making (figurative) spectacle (wry
ming poems impossible mission without
ability to see, but near future visualizes
optimism exaltant mood blind as bat cry
tears of joy (re:) gaining ability to delight
to sit and/or stand watching fresh paint dry
favorite pastime as coronavirus also known
(COVID-19) nifty and groovy innocuous eh
handy handy acronym establishing quite dye
hoe mite reputation when good times run dry
whetting appetite of ginned up entrepreneurs
meanwhile mayhem across globe goes awry
as medical practitioners nsync with scientists
pool their knowledge amidst race against time
aware every bloody seconds spells do or die,
puzzlement prevails felled others squeak by
with razor thin prognostication, not succumb
make miraculous recovery in a blink on the fly
instantaneous become asymptomatic odds defy
punishing fate inducing atheists beckoning sky
beseeching cosmic force allowing, enabling,
+ providing free and easy breathing of alveoli.
Categories:
alveoli, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Enclosed Rhyme
You are now standing
at epicenter
of violence.
It was an original trauma
for unknowables.
You intend to stride
straight through frozen limbs
cuddling the statement in love
with slaughter.
The alveoli will speak
for corrugated windows.
Going nowhere from here
to find the answers for fallen truths.
I have not understood
the concept of lying nude
in terror.
Musical chairs
will decide.
Who wins the bomb ?
Satish Verma
Categories:
alveoli, art,
Form:
ABC
Suddenly over the sudden years
I have felt an encumbrance; I sense an albatross -
the weight of sundry uncharted days.
Times I chronicle today as if I were a wax cylinder
and not the broken spool in a cassette tape.
A subfuse goose whispers: Record the sky for me.
I must write ‘sky’ ten times a day
so that the abated will not be forgotten.
Yet how to keep a goose-gray sky fresh
when the days are so metallically shiny and blue?
None recall the monochrome stories
we once told our color-blind children?
They have grown beyond such things.
I have so little time, yet must set down
the legend of little boy gray,
his history has almost passed away,
now eyes have no corners to see.
I knew him well, alas the roads to that tale
are backhoed by cartoon rainbows.
History calls me out into the park
where a lineage of dog leads the nose
to a yesteryear, a brawling time
free from the wow and weight of newness.
we lived then as historians leading other historians
upon trails of immemorial sensations.
Meadow larks meant something once,
but now look at them, they strut like roosters
over the journals of the dead!
History cannot now be cured; it is far gone,
its prone, hump-backed form encumbers
like a speed bump.
Wordsworth and his damn golden daffodils -
as if we did not know already.
I hover over histories sickbed
my impedimenta droop like the dewlaps
of a prodigal deity.
Only a moment ago history ran through hill and dale
as naked as an infant,
its fields were alive with love, war, and kapok -
a stuffed, full metal jacket;
a saucily heraldic Kevlar.
I breathe into histories colorless lungs,
there are flocks of moribund geese tucked into each
alveoli and bronchi,
they have plucked themselves naked,
they long for the ten sky’s
named in my cinereal histories.
I shoulder this burden of faded things,
this molting albatross,
all the trappings of then and thereupon,
these I place now in an ash lined
and crumbling
vault.
Categories:
alveoli, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
Ventilating Truth—Breathing…
If ever we needed to ventilate,
it is now…the thickening tragedy
of lies have become too heavy
for the respiration of living truth…
Indeed…the dire situation
has reached lunging capacity
and the alveoli of reality
are sparking gut-wrenching
diarrheic retribution…
Breathe people…breathe…
check the yellowing mane…
strings of manipulation pulling
thin loose-lips of a sinking ship…
Breathe people…breathe…
the corona of truth shines
its bright light of truth…glowing
around the dark moon of the deceit
of Americanism’s tragic turn…
Be mindful… people …scapegoats
come and go…in God, we must trust…
rather than loaning our sacred lives
to ill-fated government iniquities…
As believers—in the Lenten resurrection—
let us be about the business of resuscitation
of our beloved dying nation—yes …ours—built
by the blood-brick masonry of our Ancestors…
Categories:
alveoli, 12th grade, allegory, metaphor,
Form:
Political Verse