Best Analyzed Poems
I was once really new to our Poetry Soup,
and I knew I should try to join in with the group;
post my poems on-site to be read by a few,
and then give it a whirl, join a contest or two.
Soon a couple of them were a win, a good score;
was on top of the world, so I entered one more.
But to my big surprise when that contest was done,
my sad eyes saw in fact that my write had not won.
I clicked on 'Contest Entries' and saw it was there.
But, behold, a strange sign near that one, I declare!
A N/A- what was that? Very weird, was this right?
Could not find what it meant anywhere on the site.
So I looked up N/A on the Internet, but
what I found was not good, left me still in a rut.
This N/A symbolized a long list, now for me,
my head spun to fit in which of these it could be??
N/A…Not Applicable………Did I not follow rules?
N/A…Not Available………Did my entry get lost?
N/A…No Answer………Did they try to call me?
N/A…Not Authorized………Did I need an okay?
N/A…No Action………Did I fail to take steps?
N/A…Negative Approach………Did I say something wrong?
N/A…Not Analyzed………Should my write be explained?
N/A…No Acknowledgement………Did I fail to respond?
N/A…No Account………Did PS lose my file?
I Soup-Mailed contest judge and her answer therein,
“Well you see, the N/A means your piece did not win!"
Now I still do not know what N/A represents
When my poems don't win in Soup contest events!
December 22, 2014
~1st Place~
Contest: All Yours (Jun 8)
Brian Strand
Judged: 06/09/2021
~1st Place~
Contest: Quirky Things That Confuse and Confound Me
Sponsor: Caren Krutsinger
Judged: 07/14/2018
~1st Place~
Contest: New or Old 4
Sponsor: Eve Roper
Judged: 08/05/2016
~1st Place~
Contest: The Contest
Sponsor: Jerry T. Curtis
Judged: 01/10/2015
Anapestic Tetrameter (5 verses of 12-syllables lines)
Anapestic Dimeter (N/A Section - Questions Only)
You say you love me but you’re not
You say you’re going to fight and give it all you got
You say you find it hard to breathe
You say you’re mad at me but I’m the one who seethes
You say you love me but you’re not (in love with me)
~ Tears falling, relationship flailing, love failing… ~
You say you need a place to stay
You say you’re asking me to find another way
You say you thought about the debt
You say you’re leaving but it hasn’t happened yet
You say you need a place to stay
~ The time, the hurt, the pain, the drain… ~
You say you overcame the jones
You say you’ve analyzed it to the bare bones
You say you finally found the cure
You say you’re righteous, clean, happy and secure
You say you overcame the jones
~ Familiar lies, thin disguise, love’s demise … ~
You say you love me but you’re not
You say you’re going to fight and give it all you got
You say you find it hard to breathe
You say you’re mad at me but I’m the one who seethes
You say you love me but you’re not (in love with me)
~ Tears fall, relationship flails, love fails…
Familiar lies, thin disguise, love’s demise …
This time, this hurt, this pain, this drain…
Time runs out… no more to gain. ~
***
October 29, 2019
F T I series 12 heartbreak
Brian Strand, sponsor
He told me to write a poem
About beauty, wind blowing
Hair tossing , dream making stunning
Gorgeousness of living
Beauty addicts and blind ambitions
Movie stars and historical happenings
Formal dresses, women in high heels with
Faces meant to smile
That’s what poems should be about, he says,
Your good at that kind of thing, just spit it out
“Shawty, write a poem about beauty, that’s real poetry”
“Everything is beautiful, baby…”
“But what is beautiful to you?”
Beautiful.
Births and rebirths
Phoenix Red celestial torching of the hearts
Interlocking fingers in twilight
Kisses, Death, sorrow, crocodile tears
Laughter, Ecstasy , black
White, brown, yellow, silver crimson
Skin on skin, chest to chest, on and on, soft
Hard City light heaving, breathing against the Ebony sky
Natural Twinkle of diamond shadows,
Cosmos, Atoms, Hydrogen bonds, Electrons
Nucleus, matter, anti-matter
Smash together, slither mutually
To create harmony.
Everything.
Everything is beautiful.
“Just write about that then..”
"Not everything has to be written, somtimes you just have to
live it out.."
"What's the point then?? What's the point of writing about butterflies
and waterfalls? I just don't see it? Why do you have to doll everything up and
make it more then what it is? Not everything has to be picked apart and analyzed."
"Mmm, I suppose."
"What's real poetry to you?"
"Everything..."
"I don't understand."
I recline and rest my head on his chest
Tracing lines of thought on the ceiling
Helping him dismantle the universe and put it back together
In his own way
Enjoying lyrical symphonies of life
Breath by breath…
Together
Silent
"This, baby, This is real Poetry.."
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Analyzing satires celeste images defined?!
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Archetypes born side by side; carmine halos...
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Transcending tangibles collective bell jar host
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Internal objectives journey through the superlatives
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Austere tides; juxtapositions museful nirvana eyes!?
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Gazing upon celebral traces marking barefoot sands...
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Latitudes showers from variables littoral clouds anew
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Raining verticals truths aligned beyond, imaginations shores
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Lissome dynamics peering into the nows mirrored mind?!
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Monolithic hues; retracing tangibles celeste analyzed...
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..."Majestic Mandamus" ~
A terrible storm in wait
Caught by a laughing flood
While his beard grows
Several laborious hours
For the animals a floating rescue
A journey to a new adventure
Take your time
Time measured, analyzed and split
17.03.2017
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
(unrhymed couplets)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
In a perfect world
everyone's visions
would come to fruition,
but of course that couldn't happen
(given our nature)
and thus would end up in contradiction.
Perhaps it's because
we ask the wrong question,
thinking world means You or Me.
When in actuality
(when analyzed thoroughly)
World means We.
Written February 14th, 2016
For Contest: In a Perfect World hosted by Catie Lindsey
Honorable Mention
My life is very insular, I move from page to page
never straying far from words which prance upon the written stage.
like a sputtering engine my tongue tangles on a phrase
I rub my eyes, red and raw, I can't remove my aged gaze.
My fingers curl and knuckles gnarl as velum dances right
I read, I write, I think and pause, I can't turn out the light.
Compose, I will, adjust I must, each simile an anchor
to a life much analyzed, but lived with little rancor.
like the scribes of ancient Rome my fingertips are worn
yet I persist with joyous bliss for I know I must go on.
My form has bent, bowed and curled to meet the need of the word
God forbid, I went through this lifetime never being heard.
As I walked, one morning, alone, by the sea,
Thinking of nothing but myself and me,
I noticed, above the roar of the ocean,
A splashing, and thrashing, and foaming commotion.
My heart pounded madly, and adrenaline surged,
When a great, scaly beast, from the water emerged.
The creature stood glistening wet in the sun.
I didn't know whether to stand there, or run.
It turned its great head and looked all around.
Its red eyes like beacons, ten feet from the ground.
As it stepped slowly forward, the damp beach sand crunched,
And I wondered if I would be breakfast, or lunch.
Although the sea monster was at least ten-feet tall,
The look in its eyes was not threatening at all.
The creature seemed friendly, and curious too--
Wondering and waiting to see what I 'd do.
At last I remembered what feet were made for,
So I slowly turned, and walked back down the shore.
Now, strange as it seems, the thing followed me home.
It lay down on the porch, and I ran to the phone.
I called up some scientists, and they rolled on the floor,
When I said I'd discovered a live dinosaur.
But, to prove that they know how to play by the book,
They said, "Bring it on in, and we'll take a look."
Well, they probed, and they prodded, and they analyzed.
They studied its throat, its ears, and its eyes.
Then the great men of science, at last, made their call:
"Why, this isn't a dinosaur at all!
Marine iguana is the correct definition--
With a somewhat serious thyroid condition."
I had this terrific Idea for a poem
Yet! Was I pushing luck to the hilt?
The judge no doubt will view me with suspicion,
yet surely they need me just as
i need them, if only for
one’s hard earned
empathy!
But what is it that I give of myself?
My rhythmic impulse scrutinized,
my phobic enigma unraveled,
exposed to a worldly
sophistication, alliteration,
simile, amphibrachic metre
they are not here,
only a sudden impulse to emulate the Chris Aechtner's
of this land!
My mind ponders on the justification,
there will be a first! A second, even a last
there is always a last.
Yet! My sensitivity meanders
with me to the post box,
a vice like grip holds
the envelope, what I give,
here now
to be analyzed, a mind
diagnosed, symptoms seen
through the touch of a
fingertip!
© Harry J Horsman 2001
It was a loving relationship
Meant only to enjoy,
Never to be analyzed,
Not intended to destroy.
It was nice at the beginning
Full of warmth, and love and fun
Until the day it fell apart
In this game that no one won.
I suppose someday if we meet again
And by chance we feel there's more,
We'll spread our wings, and find the key
To open Heaven's door.
Until that day I still remain
A girl that held you hand,
When you carried my books
and walked with me
In the days of Snow and Sand.
Lynn Hanna Barany
To a less than discerning eye
Illusive beauty is not found.
An artist may observe it there
In any ordinary thing.
There is beauty not apparent
To a less than discerning eye,
Clear to an enchanted lover
Gazing at his beloved one’s face.
A child may think of his mother
As being the fairest of fair.
To a less than discerning eye
Her innate beauty is not seen.
We each observe in our own way
This world in which we all must share.
The beauty that we find not there
To a less than discerning eye.
Rewritten for correct form
Do not give up when others tell you to
The so-called experts cannot see your heart
They clearly do not see the inner you
They have their own agendas to pursue
Their brush-offs analyzed will fall apart
Do not give up when others tell you to
They haven't cared for you your whole life through
Dismissed you right away, that's not too smart
They clearly do not see the inner you
You're better off just bidding them adieu
Be on your way and make a fresh new start
Do not give up when others tell you to
Find mentors will see your passion through
Tell know-it-alls and gurus to depart
They clearly do not see the inner you
Invest no time with folks who make you blue
But seek out those with wisdom to impart
Do not give up when others tell you to
They clearly do not know the inner you
(Iambic Pentameter)
Twas the night before Christmas in 2054
The only sound being robotic mice on the floor
Our digital wish-lists were hung with ultra-precision
Above the virtual fireplace in pre-supposition
Of the anticipated arrival of a hypothetical being.
The miniature adults were dormant in their pods
As eidolon confiture twinkled their nods
While responsible progenitors with 'Bed Head" applied
Had concluded their thoughts for the long Winter's night.
Then out on the Astroturf there began such a frattle.
Startled from our beds to witness the sprattle
We opened our security cams to survey the scene
Frame by frame we analyzed what we were seeing.
The spotlight that shone on the new fallen snow,
Made fulsome the green of our false mistletoe,
And, at that very moment a freeze-frame laid bare
A cutting edge sleigh pulled by eight robotic deer.
Its jovial driver was dressed all in scarlet;
I knew it must be the Santa of myth,
For he was down our chimney with a bag of toys
And lickety-split back without making a noise.
It was over in a twinkle - he was gone with a whoosh
As you can imagine our confusion was profuse
And although his reindeer were mechanical frames
He recited out loudly and called all their names.
Come Bolter, come Byte-r come Laser and Algorithm,
Come Orbiter, Come Thyristor, Come Thunder and Mixem
As he circled the rooftop in a Gigabyte of starlight
He shouted LOL three times- as his sleigh zoomed skyward.
A TRIBUTE TO JAMES FRASER: "IT'S NOT AN ACCIDENT"
Accidentally clicked but perhaps, its the angels
bewitched who bring me to your poem pages. Scanning
closer, like a curious child, I leisurely collide,
dancing even from high to low notes
engraved effortless to your humming runes.
Finishing one, two and three,
golly! I am beguiled to read more! Tell me,
how can I stop?... when there--
inked a scarlet flare of beauty and beast.
Jam-packed phrases conjuring tease and please,
kindling somber deserted moods,
leaking maybe a legal frown or grin from lips.
Medley thoughts you combust exhale
neutrality, passion, your story and dreams.
Olive green sprouting slow amidst your dark
pencilled winter woes. Your life experience
qualify you to relish: sweet to bitter
repertoire verses.
Sometimes a prison of rules
taunts, you freely toss tangles
unto my sleeping nerves luring undulations, but!
Voila! once analyzed and understood
warbles wonder and freedom of thoughts!
Xenodochy and respect you humbly express,
yielding liftless your good attitude. James...
Zone to zone you may be, God and me loves thee!
______________________________________________________________________
***Xenodochy -- hospitality, kindness to strangers
CONTEST NAME: TRIBUTE
Contest Sponsor: Silent One
~~first place~~
10:48 pm, August 05, 2015
The frost is in my toes,
riming the up tilted boulders,
and twinkling the night sky,
like a cold breath blown
and whooshing clear off the plateau into the arms
of the universe.
Ah, standing still is spinning
all axis in step to be motion free except the heated
breath of the stars condensing and exploding.
Just diamonds or dewdrops,
a taste of eternity
swallowed.
Analyzed.
Understood.
And gone.
Me scrunching down, counting the meter
until full exposure.
Listening for the mating cries
of crickets absent in the last dying down of autumn.
I hold onto my self, then.
Great big hug and release.
Fall into the tumble of earth churned rock.
No one
but me
to see the castaway burning through
to my side. Call them meteorite, spore, seed planted
for tomorrow traveling the empty spaces of time
wondering when, how, where the tick tick tick
of radiation
changes our bodies and our minds.
To be melted down, patted onto others, cataclysmic
blown and find a way to solidify, decorate
and blaze.