Best Analyses Poems
"Escalating the Muse"
Written on the body
passive complacence
stretches sharp ink
etched pain in the soul
then real beauty
from the
Book of Truth,
a page moored
in transparent skin
;
Black,
tattooed ceremonially
on the tongue
speaks diaphonous
Freedom
Written on the body
stretches stories ripped
and tall, they are torn,
a small revolution
amongst the crowds of
alphabet coding
in a tight sealed tin
akin to a
Can of Campbell’s Soup
Escalates the
Muse
Written in the body
a work of art, beautiful,
pure and stubborn centred,
dirt muddied yet,
clean stripped,
balanced for the
Laymen betwixt
Papillon
folded Wings,
en stasis,
looks through the Chrysalis
towards the you in gilded story
the Higher requires analyses,
there She thinks,
writes the Muse
tattooed on the tongue
Words
projecting Muse to
Escalation
(LadyLabyrinth/2019)
llb/gvlm
for my daughter,
Georgia
;
"LUX VITAE"
"Brûle-moi" / Jean-Louis Murat
https://youtu.be/M6l_sQQ8lS0
"Distractions" / Zero 7
https://youtu.be/6ng6IKp8uao
"What New York Couples Fight About" / Morcheeba
https://youtu.be/RUE0J2UvThM
"Golden Years" / Bowie
https://youtu.be/JUuRGRcY9O0
Battement de coeur dans
;
Battement de coeur vers l'extérieur
Categories:
analyses, muse, truth, writing,
Form:
Free verse
Shadow Play
While Freud sits at the mind end of the couch phallus in hand
shapes others’ dreams in unspoken imposition ‘must-abation’
analyses abuses his daughter in metaphorical incest projects
his own aggressive sexual drives and neurotic megalomania
Jung after killing the father figure sits with and under shadows
gathers the zenith of clouds rays collects collective conscience
unconsciousness retrieves ancient symbols propagates mythical
archetypes to archetypical conclusions reflects tainted sunshine
He forges gently I surmise poles and vaults of contradictions
opposites polar juxtapositions seemingly un-mutual mysteries
and ponders light and darkness tearing torn apart thus healing
in the complementing contrast of void change completeness
Where Freud posits polymorph perversity bit by sexual bitter
sweet bit in a bid for so called science of mind over matter Jung
morphs perpetual change crafted and cast through a different
lens admits to poetic licence narration oral traditions and growth
******** in mind not of the ***** castrated in fear not envious of
phallic dominance over clitoral defence wombs groomed entombed
by guilt transgression sexual submission shallow **** oral penile
ossification of flaccid resurrection Jung begs and offers to differ
In complex incomplete never-ending search a path from change to
change and beyond dialectical synthesis played enacted in parallel
processes and progressive psychological drama of a different kind
he much kinder more reflective less regressive and adventurous
Lets shadows erect and paint play dance reflect and move on
16th August
Categories:
analyses, courage,
Form:
Free verse
Leader of the home with virtuous height
Bracing up family with grand posture
Governing prudently by great faith’s might
He’s our Daddy in his godly gesture.
Daddy dearest is our human fortress.
He loves us as he trusts the Lord* Who’s great.
Assertively pointing truths he does stress
Guiding with values of excellent rate.
His humor’s sense speaks of prudence-fervour
While wholesome jokes call for analyses
His boyish looks, before, earned Mom’s favour
With wise perspective in facing crises.
A champion in his home-roles’ fulfillment
Dad exemplifies “genuine provider"
Propelled by his faithfulness’ commitment
A paragon of steadfast life-builder.
Showing verily servant-leadership
Our father’s a hero in word and deed
How we thank his marvelous guardianship
We praise God for Dad’s legacy indeed.
*Psalm 103:13 Like as a father pitieth his children, so the LORD pitieth them that fear him.
February 15, 2020
2nd place, "Ode to a President or Leader Past or Present" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Sheri Fresonke Harper; judged on 3/2/2020.
Categories:
analyses, appreciation, blessing, christian, faith,
Form:
Ode
always the object of analyses
universe is what the universe is
from quarks to atoms, planets to galaxies
plus divers cosmic abnormalities
everything caught up in heavenly flow
of where non-stop change forces it to go
no guarantees a passing asteroid
will not explode our world into the void
no guarantee seeds will grow in the soil
no guarantee the great oceans won't boil
no guarantee we will have air to breathe
no guarantee we will have lives to lead
no guarantee we'll have time to reckon
all may end in interstellar second
Categories:
analyses, change, dark, destiny, perspective,
Form:
Sonnet
Breeders' Cannon Ball plays for days and decades even onto eras
Feeders on the bottom plus top down voodoo economics, no trickle
De-weeders? Why? Lawns are hype realistic so fake AF and anti-kith
Xeroscape like rape by statute not as consent is all we had and glad
as if LOVE LOVE like that is not welded onto the iron of our blood
our ICHOR revealed by the metal of my worth so all stop [fragment decay]
WE_SHE_BE and been found in the lost items bin or your heart box
Where few claim what they lost except employees that skim on whims
And random kids pretending to collect those sacred scatterings adding
Us all into the folk flying all stars from three to seven points and more
Up up to eleven and 127 plus 1 and another tenner and we are TEE H EX
Kate Bush ends spell of chant sans rhyme or beat and only written tell
By me that if your analyses searches for perfect supra-asymmetry balanced
By three points like MOEBIUS STRIPS or the landscape and felons well met
By the grads and all the Parises of Helen not Troy or Sparta or Hades subjects
Troy how you fell and flowed onto us oh Troy built but no Dear John JUDY Green
WE ALL LOVE YOU THEAFANIA MI MAYOR HERMANA o ONEE CHAN WO AI NI
all ways and four eve her all believe her and such is lillith plus you LADY^4
Categories:
analyses, absence, abuse, age, allah,
Form:
Personification
A self analyses
Of where I'm at
General observations
Of the this and that
The heavy smoking
Will soon terminate
What's left of my lungs
Burnt to a helpless state
An introspection
Might clear the view
Of my indifference
Of the smog I choose
It's indecision
I'll suffocate myself
Can't give it up now
Zero nicotine is hell
A realization
Trapped in a hole
There's no escaping
Addiction takes its toll
If not cautious
Will self destruct
While sick and coughing
One cigarette is never enough...
Categories:
analyses, addiction, introspection, life,
Form:
Verse
He gave me a strong impact,
with his gift for immemorial gestures;
he embraced the sick and handicapped
he kissed the soil of the nation on his first vist.
As an occupant of the Chair of St Peter,
he brought the world, a message to everyone
his defense for the poor, a substance to carry on
as a church in her journey across cultures.
The awesome volume of his writings,
reveal the kind of pope he was
as a theologian suffused with faith;
as a philosopher endowed with reason.
In his very person, he was charismatic
as a teacher and defender of faith,
he set new directions, left a legacy
and continued the Roman Curia, multicultural.
On themes expounded in his documents,
speeches, homilies and reflections,
he brought the Gospel vis-a-vis the Magisterium
in all spheres that concern contemporary life.
As the first non-Italian pope in 455 years,
since the Netherlander Hadrian VI in 1552
and ever since his election to papacy,
by any measure, he’s a man for all seasons.
Albeit, he’d his disappointments,
his own share of sorrows over clergy in misbehavior –
the scandal of sexual abuse, particularly in this nation,
he remained firm and prayerful as a leader.
In spite of his frailty, Parkinson’s disease and other ailments
he continued his journey with deep faith and sacrifice.
his interreligious relations made a difference,
he visited mosques, synagogues and convened those other leaders.
He canonized saints more than 470 of them,
he beatified more than a thousand men and women.
such a milestone in the life of our Catholicism,
the call to holiness woven in discipleship.
He impressed believers of every faith
with his greatness in many ways;
like one of his favorite phrases,
quoting what St Augustine once said,
“Vobis sum episcopus, vobiscum christianus,”
he celebrated life, helped shape Christendom
with analyses of countless human lives.
Categories:
analyses, death, dedication, faith, hope,
Form:
Narrative
You’re one of The Mortals
To whom others are “Empty Bottles”
You have risen now and again,
Degrees bagging to your own again
At all analyses “Very Good!”
And at Evaluation “Oh! My God!”
Often, The First to be Understood,
No frustrated use of bullying rod.
Still need you to set yourself apart
By being The Proverbial Young at Heart:
Voice for infant’s frame of mind;
I have in mind the toddler just behind
Your sweetly playful Four-Year-Old Son
About to a game start in The Sun …
For that is when in you
The presence of God holds true.
And you become truly a mortal
To whom another is Empty Bottle.
Categories:
analyses, child, education, image, integrity,
Form:
Rhyme
‘PINK CRAYON LINK’
A circle of pink—frightened at six, the commencement of the school system link
Classroom allocations and trepidation cleverly disguised by colour location
Dolls rosy cheeks and freedom to play, all disappear—dissipate remote foldaway
A shrill school bell resonates-- response to line up education to read and spell
Our seating arrangements deftly planned to new desks all spick and span
Blank pages are handed out-- character analyses to write our names without any doubt
Carefully colours selected, each new crayon box, I elect pink from my little stock
The boy seated next to my chair decided he wanted my box to share
Having his own full box waxed colours to explore—I watched as he dropped my green as it broke on the floor
My young expectations -that first day of school started to shrink
My happy disposition—my designated colour—my opinions no longer tickled pink
Looking out the window where cherry blossoms crisscrossed
I thought of my dolls and rose quartz feathery candyfloss
My playful happiness and spontaneity-- a protected rosebud
I fell off my pink cloud with an abrupt thud
Categories:
analyses, childhood, school, education, school,
Form:
Rhyme
I pen this down...
To check if I still have something to say..
After facing all the wrath of destiny..
I pen this down..
To have an eye on the silent storm in me..
Which has been quiet for quite long..
I pen this down..
To know the answers of some questions..
Afterall I have heard, poetry can do miracles...
I pen this down..
To check whether the poet in me is still alive..
Or I am left to be accused as a murderer too...
A poet who is truly respected
may not be the most brilliant cited
nor number one in the recent survey
but someone whose mind best convey.
A poet who is a creative critic
may not be someone who is prolific
nor gives comment somewhat stupor
but the one who inspires as a mentor.
A poet who reads poems and analyses
may not be someone who is the wisest
nor his poetry the most read composition
but becomes an epitome of the association.
Categories:
analyses, art, beautiful,
Form:
Enclosed Rhyme
Sanmati is my angle’s name. She never
Analyses her problem without sure.
Neither does she answer anyone directly;
Mediates before speaking desperately.
Amit is her uncle’s name. Smart is he
Though teaches him how to be.
I am proud father and Kavita her mother.
Savita is her grandmother who bother
Always for her betterment. We all
Negotiate for her better stroll
Knowing how the future world be.
Either ways are taught to be free
Truth and honesty being you see.
“Jai Jinendra” is the first word
All we speak before tea or curd.
I am sure her grandpa Deshbhushan
Needs her help when he in tension.
Categories:
analyses, daughter,
Form:
Monorhyme
I
Where, oh where is Virginia Dare*,
No one can find her anywhere.
Her disappearance is the very worst,
I guess that's what comes from being the first.
*Virginia Dare was born on Aug. 18, 1587 in Roanoke Colony, Virginia, the first child born in the New World to English parents. Both the colony and all its inhabitants…80 men, 17 women, and 11 children…disappeared mysteriously, and no traces have ever been found.
II
Amelia Earhart* flew away
And hasn't been seen
To this very day.
Her goal was to make it to Paris in style,
But got only as far as a small desert isle.
*Presumed to have crashed on Howland Island in the Central Pacific Ocean, Amelia disappeared on July 2, 1937. According to a 2015 news article, her remains may have been found and identified.
III
And Jimmy Hoffa*,
Of course it's just hearsay,
Is fertilizing a field
In New York or New Jersey.
The reason for doing him in was excused,
The mob made him an offer,
And Jimmy refused.
*He was heavily involved with the mob-controlled Teamsters Union. He disappeared on July 30, 1975.
IV
The mystery in London
That continues a gripper,
Scotland Yard still doesn't know
Who was Jack the Ripper.*
Was he maybe a royal, a doctor, a rounder?
At least now the prostitutes are all sleeping sounder.
*He terrorized London from 1888-1891. the term "Ripperology" was coined to describe the study and analyses of the Ripper cases. There are over 100 theories about his identity.
V
Another conundrum
Hashed o'er many a snifter,
Concerning Sasquatch, or Bigfoot*,
Is he a myth or a mythter?
It's widely agreed that he's really quite scary,
His general description is big, tall, and hairy.
*We can also add Yeti to the list.
VI
Last, but not least,
There's the Anasazi.*
Did they self-destruct
Like a kamikaze?
Or did they decide to quit stone-age labors
And move to the city like most of their neighbors?
*This is the historical Navajo name meaning "Ancient Ones" who inhabited the 4-Corners region…Utah, Arizona, New Mexico, and Colorado…up until sometime in the 13th century, archaeologists surmise. Why they abandoned their towns and cities is still a mystery.
Categories:
analyses, history, humor,
Form:
Light Verse
Tim is a thinker and operates within the logic of his brain
Reasonable thoughts solutions imperative webs rule
and divide analyses paradigms and guidance from hell
He googles and ogles centrifugal dispersion displayed
on the smoke screen of distracting internet searches
A seeker he is however the computer can think but not feel
He had encountered Dialectical Behaviour Therapy
with the message of emotions complementing his
cognitive certainties meant to assemble the wise mind
Zen it must be then but even the information highway
takes him to Zen Mate a platform for hyperspace security
He can’t even delete it once installed hook line and sinker
Zen Zero Engagement with Nonsense obfuscates imminent truth
looms large as he decides to simply be under a luscious fig tree
An orange loin cloth covers his modesty as he attempts humility
Yet meditation still takes him far away from Gautama Siddhartha
to associations of Gauntanamo Bay Cuba and Alejandro Fidel Castro
but what has Tao got to do with it anyway what about Mao Zedong
Tim’s soul drifts away from internal Peace he is not yet cut out
for relaxation and confuses and corrupts to settle in Nirvana
His begging bowl calls for saffron delight without caviar’s caveats
Descartes shouts 'Carpe Diem' Marx wants knowledge with action
Nietzsche implies Zarathustra but golden ‘zarat’ remains fool’s gold
and ‘ushtra’ the camel does not fit through the third inner eye
Why cannot simplicity be more simple when the here and now
drifts away towards where and when as Tim tries to capture
letting go and let God while enlightenment is clothed in darkness
Tim’s Nike trainers suggest he can do it and Greek philosophy
reminds him ‘Hic Rhodos Hic Salta’ to jump here and not anywhere
else but leaps and bounds refuse to reach outcome detachment
One day he dreams that he might reach what is so close but obscured
for now sandalwood fragrances incense his inabilities to achieve
the essential meaning of life without target driven performance
Categories:
analyses, philosophy,
Form:
Free verse
My Dad is an Asian, declared by his color and height...
…since the supreme Lord has blessed him with that heritage
Through such physique, he performs well by great faith’s might
…that upholds his prayer life he regards as an advantage!
He is my Daddy dearest, my human fortress…
…who loves me, his darling daughter, as he trusts the Father’s grace.
Assertively adamant is he when his point he can stress
…yet readily laughs out loud when he loses in our debate-race.
I delight in his prudent sense of humor...
…with his wholesome jokes that need analyses
His boyish looks (decades ago) earned my Mom’s favor
…especially his mature perspective in facing crises.
A champion in his family-roles’ fulfillment…
…my Dad is a model of "the responsible provider"
He is governed by his faithfulness’ commitment
…and entitled with the award for "the steadfast home-builder!"
I thank God for my father* and his pampering kindness…
…but he has never “spoiled” me; that I can testify
To the Almighty I entrust my Dad’s years-bountifulness…
…for him to enjoy His goodness as His name he does magnify!
*Psalm 103:13 Like as a father pitieth his children, so the LORD pitieth them that fear him.
July 6, 2018
Edited on June 10, 2020
Dedicated to my Dad this Father's Day 2020... (though he's now with the Lord, enjoying heaven's bliss since February 2, 2019).
3rd place, "I Can’t Breathe" (People of colour, tell us your story. For those of us who are white it is good to take this time to listen. ) Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Richard Lamoureux; judged on 6/14/2020.
Categories:
analyses, appreciation, blessing, character, faith,
Form:
Quatrain
I posted my feelings to the website,
and shared my most intimate fantasies,
and most profound thoughts on grief and delight
expressed through natural analogies,
and even worked long and hard on rewrite
to clearly convey glib analyses.
Once it went online, I waited to see
over the course of the next many days
just what the impact of my words would be,
anticipating that my thoughts would blaze
among this literate community
who would shower me with critique and praise.
But, judging by the response to my post,
I might as well be an Internet ghost.
Categories:
analyses, on writing and words,
Form:
Sonnet