Best Analytic Poems
The difference in saying you,
a great big unseen pointed finger, or we.
I didn’t know. Some figurines
wave while others scrutinize with wizened eyes.
The analytic panics, hairs raised by static.
The simple leans in to catch butterflies. One is cynical.
The other sensuous. One slaps your hand away.
One squeezes it. Personality
like the word itself broken in pieces, a flotilla.
In the storm the words like jigsaw waves.
In placidity, the sun’s too hot or doldrum’s ebb and flow.
We will make it!
Still, even in this exchange, coarse sand,
a castle with a moat. Your motives sought - there I go again
“Y O U R…”
Sisterly size-up. Am I trying to win? I didn’t know
we were preparing to arm wrestle. I’m unshaped,
neither the flat piece of a puzzle or linked.
The dreamy sky from the beach. Salt in the air,
eyes on the horizon, lap of the waves —
the same lift I feel when swinging high and higher.
The excitement of adventure, no one’s judging
my every word. I’m breathless…it’s breathtaking
when my feet float above the ground.
There I’m in the arms of love. There I point
and God answers with his digit reaching out, touching mine.
I am reborn by the finger of God.
We will make it!
12/19/2020
I AM
I am righteous and rational: God’s bliss.
I am truthful and disciplined: Dad’s wish.
I am lone fighter to attain my goal: Confidence exists.
I am outspoken: Personality permits.
I am free, innocent, fun-loving: Playful kid.
I am optimistic: Sprouting seed.
I am compassionate: Great Generous heart.
I am helpful: Acting energetic smart.
I am decisive, determined: Sturdy mountain.
I am cheerful joyous: Frolic fountain.
I am sincere friend: Honoring affection.
I am loyal in love: Ethereal emotion.
I am sympathetic to sooth: Rains shower.
I am romantic: Fragrance of flower.
I am brilliant bright: Gem to glow.
I am restless dynamic: River to flow.
I am Mathematician: Brain analytic.
I am writer and poet: Touch artistic.
I am blessed daughter: Dad is my idol.
I am oldest sister: Carried responsibility overall.
I am talker: Speech to impress.
I am proud mother: Daughters are my success.
I am explorer: Ambitious dream.
I am strong woman: Soul supreme.
I am now in last phase. Enjoyed life. Completed duties.
Ready to leave in happy mood.
05/05/20
Third Place
'I AM : A LIST BIO CHALLENGE' Contest by Andrea Dietrich
(An Addingham poem)
‘There! Where every curve
injects another memory.’
Analytic beauty that
nestled in verdant valley
allows the mind to review,
where archaic dry-stone walls
enhance the ancestral ghosts,
impeccable trees, nature’s
guardian to one’s heady days,
inscribed when lovers called.
Now historic brows lost
within the village face,
expressive meadows
from a bygone age did
grace now lay in waste,
every thistle upon
throstle nest cut down
and stone barns redundant.
For cement and brick
replace the gathering blooms,
fertile soil lay under macadam
and house numbers
supersede the hawthorn hedge,
and old ‘Bram’ on horse and cart
daily down moor lane
long gone and dead.
Oh. Them old manifestations
embedded, the labour
of many a village son,
where leaf and wood
do part but once a year,
after seasons of regrowth
give way to winter’s ascetic sun
that rolls across Rombald’s moor.
‘Oh. Yes, the sun, one thing
that man has not yet changed.’
© Harry J Horsman 2021
On Faith
Faith to follow as a blind human instinct,
not to be analysed, not to be judged yet distinct.
Life - plant stands erect with Faith as its firm root
to yield ‘Inspiration’ and ‘Expectation’ as flower and fruit.
Doctor holds Faith on life to start from first breath
to continue and last till last breath ending in death.
About life children believe to feel free and tell
‘All day long to play, dance, sing or to listen to tale.’
Young guys have faith on life to observe
as ‘ Love is Life’ and ‘Life is Love.’
In query of life to guy below poverty line :
His Faith rolls in struggle to arrange lunch and to dine.
Political leader believes life dependent on public mass.
Drunkard believes life to cycle around wine glass.
‘ Idea about life ?’ When questioned to an Architect
Answer came as ‘ From master plan not to deviate.’
Intense difficult question as asked to a Scientist
Reply from Faith comes ‘ Search and research to clear mist.’
Intrinsic query on Life to a Mathematician
deals with Faith on analytic approach and calculation.
Experiences about Life as asked to an old person
Answer from his belief ‘ Meaningless ! All achievements are gone !’
‘ How to illuminate life ? ‘ asked to a saint praying to Lord
His Faith declares‘ Humble life comes from Divinity ending in God.’
Faith running, rushing, rolling, rippling , propagating
Absolute no need of explaining or investigating.
Eternal Faith pulsating in every human breath.
Amazing maze of life, amusing musing on Faith.
POEM OF THE DAY : 20.10.25
[Poet’s Note : Form : This poem combines Haibun with
Specular Fugue, giving a straightforward descriptive journaling type Haibun more analytical depth, making for a more interesting & informative experience for reader, overlaying description with analytic style. ]
______________________
With intense curiosity five kinky haired
African women watched her. Her hair sleek, her skin caramel,
wearing lilac pyjamas. Nobody instructed her to change into
hospital gear. She did not understand Tswana. They understood
English. Her Cuban surgeon was gentle as a lamb.
Their surgeon was a tough Afrikaner.
Afrikaners were toughened by trekking,
lambs skipping across conquered land.
Tswana was not an easy language to learn.
They starched hospital gear to last longer.
Lilac her favourite colour, opp-arting her caramel skin,
mottled by disease. Her hair from Malaysian and Indian genes,
mixed stew genetics, like all from the human race.
Dark eyes observed her struggle onto high hospital bed,
hip broken, with cartilage in tatters. Noisy Tswana cackles,
like hens on heat, bombarded her smile. She kept it on, an emoji.
Slowly the chicken run morphine disco calmed.
She could not endure morphine chokes or
polite falsehood steady. Hens were her evening friends,
feeding them a favourite chore. Their eggshell membranes
she swallowed for cartilage, her eyes flickering gratitude.
Gratitude is an abc lesson.
It is broken eggshells today.
Teen friends were loyal comrades,
their feedback raw honest. Being polite
strengthens boundaries, sometimes.
Morphine is gold during war.
Cheerily she remarked : “I know you are gossiping about me.”
All five women burst into raucous laughter, forging new friendships.
Friendships forged through pain and laughter.
Some humans learn via gossip.
Be cheerful about others not knowing.
+++
hospital wards full
patients support one another ~
laughter kills the pain
__________———-________________———-
To embrace
life’s analytic myth
to inspire
nature’s symbolic smile,
to manoeuvre
amidst northern skies of blue
to roam
chauvinistic contours sensitive and true.
To perceive
inclement purple haze that rebels
against the moor side mist,
to dwell if only momentarily within
a dream upon
“Windgate Nick” Where dandelion
seeds float in sunbeams
of radical tranquil,
and fanciful fables
of innocent finery are spawned.
To wander
the fallow tracks of “Heber’s Ghyll”
Stride the sparsely tussock
of “Nab wood Hill”
Create vernacular legend
amid “Viking” Skill!
Ramble again
the stony edge of “Ilkley Moor”
Split the boulder find the cure
formulate
a pageant, compose an
hereafter tour, if only to believe in him!
Entered Mark Toney's 2022
Poetry Marathon mile 22.
9/12/2022
poem written 2011
Before Rene Descartes does this world depart
he gives analytic geometry its big head start
from bugs that draw graphs crawling on his ceiling;
as he lies sprawling, sick in bed, reeling.
MATHEMATICS
Most Momentous Majestic Monitor
Anytime Affirmative analyzing accuracy
Top Trainer tuning treating talent
Humdinger Hero having highest honor
Excellent Explorer explaining efficiently
Marvelous Methodical Mind Mender
Acquisitive Analytic approaching applying accuracy
Terrific Teacher thinking tutoring tactfully
Ideal Instructor initiating intense intelligence
Capable Cultivator countering correcting chaos
Sagacious Systematic Scientific Searcher sorting solution
10/15/15
The tags are labels placed on a table.
Beginning with A and ending with Z, the labels placed on the table enables me to readings.
I defeated being judgmental and did not become analytic.
My mind is a schema.
The stems are roots ending.
Argumentative are the colors exploding.
White becomes mixed and black is a misted.
Meaning is that both are within an element.
The bags that I carry appear to be heavy but they are not.
They are held many ways so that my arms will not tire.
I walk with a slight lean to my shoulder because my purse must strap.
I arch upright like a cat.
The stems rooted and garlic is scape.
The railroad track is the shortcut we take.
The blood is enriched and the heart strengthens.
Once grown, he knows life ascertains.
Pulling back the curtains, he views the beautiful garden planted by his beloved mother.
The clothes in this bag I will wash completing my chores for today.
Once done, I will leave to find something to enhance my life.
I feel agitated and I must relax.
Tomorrow will be one of the best days in time.
The stem is a broken root.
It uses or loses its route to new growth.
The knowledge it provides is wisdom to the planter.
The stem asks the question of why did this happen.
Angel’s songbirds awoke and flung the deal
Anisette chirps, sounds of reels
On that day my soul grew lyric
My heart couldn’t see it
Angels songbirds sing with me
And the harmonies never waiting
The sound singer souls singing
The song craft smiled
Ah, distinctly I was lullabying
And the hand claps never hymning yet rhyming
Death shall bring bass riffs
The sonic songwriting singsong smiths
Angels songbirds sing with me
I crave the lyrical, lyric leaf
From off my chest, my breath
Expressivity - expressivity - expressivity!
Somewhat louder than my debrief
I am shore of my golden voiced leaf
you warned me about the high relief
I crave the song-like, songful soundtrack
I feel my spirit leaving my back
Angels songbirds sing with me
That moment my soul grew analytic
The musical smiled
To warn me about the vibrato
And so you came gently jingling
Of duets that are bungling
Chirping metals yawn iron robins
My passion is the cuckoo lullaby, laugh angel laugh
Once I sat engaged and dancing, fly angel fly
Angels songbirds sing with me
When I thought of the song, sing angel sing
Deep into that darkness scoring, fly angel fly
In a kingdom full of shields, shield angel shield
On that day my soul grew lyric, fly angel fly
I awoke and flung the tenorist, high up to the skies
Much I marveled this overload alto, high angel high
Much I marveled the atonal hymn, sing angel sing
I have dreamed of the tempos, Hallelujah
Angels songbirds sing with me
Deep into that darkness interviewing, Hallelujah
That moment my soul grew singable, come sing with me
overloud alto, high angel high
Marveled the atonal hymn praises above all men, sing angel sing
Angels songbirds sing with me
10/29/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
10/29/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
I left Ireland in the 80's with my husband and two babies for Holland. In 2003, we
returned so that our children could have an Irish University education. Dublin was
buzzing with life at the time, it was very expensive but we were home. Now in 2011,
my daughter is emigrating, back down the old ancestral path, she is going to Madrid
to teach English there. Our country has collapsed so badly, there is no employment
here so we are exporting our young, educated children by the day. A sad day for me
as my daughter leaves tomorrow. I wrote her this poem.
To Sarah
On the wave of emigration
I want you to know
That I see you, a fellow female
An equal on every level
Not just my daughter
My little pink princess
I see you as a woman
A power within this world
With oceans to offer
A lifetime still to learn
Go to your new life
A teacher in Madrid
Be free and fearless
Spread your wings and fly
Take the opportunities
Shape them to your dreams
You have all the tools
You can use them now.
Your analytic mind
Will help you make good decision
Fair and just rewards will ensue.
Your radiating heart
Will gift you new friendships
Maybe even a new love
All in good time
You will never be alone
Because you have a deep sense of self
This will be fortified
With this new tide
Your feet firmly planted
Will always serve you well
Balancing the ups and downs of Libra
Always true to yourself
Life will be true to you too.
We live in a new age today
This global world is small
As we email and skype
Fly back and forth to visit
We will continue to love
As mother and daughter
Our journeys through life
Shared
Forever together
My love
I will hold you safe
In my heart.
emotional beauty
uneasy lies the head
that wears the crown
no make up instead
your face never frown
if your lips turn red
you still not grown
beauty is the emotion
that emotionally connects you
to the spontaneous self
and you must have caution
for that emotion reflects you
to the simultaneous self
need not worry about beauty
but a beauty
that's not on the booty
but that on the mind's duty
to think beyond the facial
and artificial beauty
an emotional beauty
why worry about your looks
did not you read in the books
of how beauty comes from within
and not by the looks?
-
opn04112011/1322
***extract from 'patterns of life' november 2011 ebook
ntema's unique poetry.
>
It is important to personally analyse yourself from within. If you get so easily carried by what goes around; so shall it come back around your neck. Look at yourself carefully and try by all means to 'imagine' that person you think its you and see how different you are from yourself. Beauty is how capable are you of any situation to respond and react in a systemic psycho-analytic being and not from the physical appearances that are enhanced by scientifically modified chemics and cosmetics. Your personality is dependent on your mental freedom and mental situation analysis. <
onalethuso petruss ntema
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/emotional-beauty/
I always feel hungry
yet I dare not scoff
it may set a precedent.
(“My TV’s begging for Africa again!”)
Yet! I believe I am the fodder
everyone keeps feeding on my
infinite illusions.
The talkback show tells us,
“No one wants insecurity anymore.”
Yet the conglomerates give no guarantee
no “Job for life”
Only a life! For a job.
(Not forgetting the analytic “Bull”
upon application!)
Perhaps security is with the power
of the poppy or cocoa leaf?
So far I’ve been lucky
I’ve found my comfort zone
this side of life!
So! Do not weep for me
for I breathe the fragrance of innocence,
my mind will remain only
a fragment of intellect,
my world one of simplicity.
Yet I see mankind bemused,
multitudes, like corn in the meadow
swaying to a acrimonious breeze,
before being judged within a
clockwork frame, with hearts
that beat in caustic chests.
Frail bodies embraced with wretched minds
tolerance etched upon stark faces,
their promised land dangled upon
the filament of a dream,
while calculated scenarios
bombard their unswerving ambience!
© Harry J Horsman 1997
To my girls
I want you to know
That I see you
As equals on every level
Not just my daughters
My little pink princesses
I see you as young women
Powers within this world
With oceans to offer
A lifetime still to learn.
Live your lives
As though I was still with you
Be free and fearless
For you can see
Life is so short
Take all opportunities
And shape them to your dreams
You have all the tools
And I will be watching over you
Be good to one another
There are only two of you
The strength between sisters
Is a bond for life.
Your analytic minds
Will help you make good decisions
Fair and just rewards will ensue.
Your radiating hearts
Will gift you many friendships
Maybe special love
All in good time.
You will never be alone
For you have a deep sense of self
This will be fortified
With my passing
Your feet firmly planted
Will serve you well
Balancing the ups and downs
because that's how life is.
Always be true to yourself
Life will be true to you too.
Do not mourn my death
I am not going far away.
My illness has progressed
My time is nigh
There is a greater plan
One we cannot see
But we have had a great life
As mother and daughters
Our journeys together
live on in our memories.
My loves
I will hold you safe
In my heart
Now and forever
I will always be with you.
A scientist tired of research
left science one night in the lab
to let it sleep for a while
in a test tube on the rack,
went happily home relieved,
inspired by the spring air spray
started writing poems next day.
The poems took geometric shapes
with stack of words arranged
as symbols of complex molecules
emanating like DNA strings
through a fissure of the mind
profoundly analytic and precise
methodically trained by science.
The words balanced sentences perfectly
and expressed the notion rationally
like the chemical reactions formulating
the idea poems wanted to prove
which surprised the poet in distress
because he thought he had left
science in the lab to sleep and rest.
Science had sleep-walked un-sighted
to his new work-place the poetry lab
poured chemicals on the deranged words
broke the displaced sentences to shards
and put the poems in acid soup,
returned to the test tube un-noticed
it dissolved in sleep and vanished.
The scientist lost his science in an instant
and the new poet his poetry nascent.
July 20, 2017.