Best Articulates Poems
This old oak-tree smiling through my balcony
Sways and swings cheerily, a happy emissary,
Budding new vigor upon tiny greenish leaves
Adorning exuberance of idyllic new morning,
Quivering golden-beams on dawning of spring.
When the sun rises, blushing mauve feelings,
Its gentle oscillations fetch tender sensibilities
Inviting sparrows to grace the stage of robins
In spontaneous outburst of ceremonial music--
Chirping, twittering, singing for the hatchlings.
As summer of my mind churns wistful stories,
Its white blossoms waltz tender warm breeze
And leaves flutter merrily, twirling to comfort me
When thoughts bygone nudge parched vagaries
Engrossed in realm of burned-out memories.
When autumn turns green into fiery-red leaves
As ruby sundown glitters on amethyst evening
And gusty winds rustle-in endlessly, ferociously,
Whirling flying colors, floating crimson revelries;
A few remnants cling-on, loath to forsake me.
Yet, brazenly I gaze away, ignoring its appeal
When harsh winter shudders essence of its being,
Quivering, shivering bare-skinned branches;
Staying beguiled instead on top of frozen hills
Where sunset articulates ochre-tinged themes.
May 26, 2020
Poem of the day on May 28, 2020
Placed 2nd: Brian's Choice Y Contest
Categories:
articulates, imagery, nature, tree,
Form:
Verse
St Helens, volatile lady,
Is letting off some steam.
She is seething now with anger.
We know not to what extreme.
I remember the eruption in
The year of ninety-eighty.
That fierce outburst proved her to be
A quite hot-headed lady.
She will not tell what ticked her off.
She gets her satisfaction,
Not from talk or boastfulness.
She articulates with action.
So take your puny instruments
And foolish speculations.
She well may have surprise in store
Beyond all expectations.
Don't tramp on her abundant skirts;
That tends to irritate her.
This lady's incensed enough now,
You're foolish if you bait her.
She's given you fair warning
And if you take her dare
You can't run far enough to get
Her ash out of your hair.
By Joyce
Categories:
articulates, natural disasters,
Form:
Narrative
Here on the cusp of all things, is where I succumb
Ceding my stuff blindly, toward oblivion and none
Unwilling to persevere, without a modicum of fun
Listing in perpetual stasis, til the spasm’s undone
And yet a god may save me, or a talisman of love
Some prophet of euphoria, quelling ennui thereof
Placing good tidings, into a universal equation
Edifying eternity…..revealing its exact duration…..
Alas he speaks in riddles, and treads a mobius strip
Each cycle forming a twist, convoluting his trip
Determined I follow, my awareness in collapse
Narrow-mindedly stumbling into mortality traps
Now I sense the endgame, but decline to exalt
Its a distortion, an abortion, a cataclysmic fault
Chance meeting with a nihilist, yields positive results
Unable to see past zero, he reveals nothing but cults
Here on the cusp of all things, is where I begun
A contorted brain-f*ck, had no choice but to come
A demon of clarity, with an open ended measure
One who gives to please, but prefers taking pleasure
To believe for one moment, I’d live off a dying spark
Only denies potential, when again life goes dark
With more light to come, my sunglasses prepared
Eternity’s not polarised, just infinitely layered
If a blind man articulates, I’ve seen all this before
Screaming and convinced “I’m a seer at my core”
Could be he’s mistaken, or deluded with Déjà vu
Begs his final question, “do I have a point of view”?
Categories:
articulates, deep, life, perspective,
Form:
Rhyme
twilight whispers
on the winds
of darkness
the wraith
of my soul
listens
assonance of
this empty house
articulates
through walls
of dreams
where desires
call out to you
i can hear
your inaudible voice
answering back
see you standing
in the shadows
of time
awaiting
the hours
of destiny
to allow you
to step forward
into the depths
of my awaiting arms
for now
i rest
in fragments
of hope
and wait
for my love
unknown
to arrive
Categories:
articulates, desire, destiny, dream, hope,
Form:
Free verse
Luminary Visions
Automatic liberty for one who has been incarcerated
Technocratic synergy that evolved to be automated
Enigmatic creativity which is overtly animated
Charismatic sensibilities that are recognised and celebrated
Amazing grace just pouring down from a twighlight sky
Stargazing at space as the question of origin comes out as a “why”?
A blazing face hot in disgrace about to suddenly die
While the grazing poor are dressed in broken lace and caught up in a politicians lie
Miscommunication at the place of education while the illiterate learn to read
Defamation of the current administration as the population articulates what it needs
Condemnation of the newest correlation that is necessary to feed
Exclamation of fascination as the people refuse to pay heed
I can see this microscopic look of fear inside your eyes
If it weren’t so clear I would tell you that there is no need to hide
But I can only add that your feelings are always justified
There’s a place for you among it all that you can always reside
Sanctuary at the latest state to take a stand
Extraordinary instances as I extend my shaking hand
Diversionary distances that remove the people from their land
Luminary images that allow the vision to remain grand
The End Copyright Elizabeth Moroz
Categories:
articulates, life,
Form:
Rhyme
Proving a point! An exaggerated ending
I see - I am drawing conclusions
An overstatement! Influential indeed
An extravagant means of spreading viewpoint
Ah! I write - I use it to exclaim
I end my proven thoughts with ability
Drawing attention to the written word
I see - you see ! You get the message I am sending
May it be imagery or reality , let there be reasons
With culture and thus cultivate the weed
Again with creation , a proven value and point
I write - we write - exclamation we claim
Gliding with the pen , word after word with agility
Fine motor skill development - and with an IQ
A beauty of language and never too absurd
Writing beauty with exclamation
I must say ! Complex for you still
I see the wisdom! Do you see the point?
Picturesque ! Vocabulary at its best
Again I proclaim the mental images
Astounding! To be exclamatory
And I thus, I see! my visions clear
My exclamation point! very clearly dear
When I read - I then seek the truth
Looking for the point - I still draw conclusion
That the exclamation therefore beauteous it may be
Not only proved a point! It may stupify me
And I know you are in there in your head
Truly listening to what is said?
He nods - she winks - I guess its true
The beauty of exclamation is really becoming of you
And I see imagery - I see rhythm
We teach - you listen - you write the words
And punctuate - I still amazed
That it will astound you too - silence is golden
You learned - the exclamation at its best
Sometimes may be used with some degree of protest
And in your expressions this I see, it stimulates
And indeed - with beauty it articulates
Wow! The point when used in prose
The words are brilliant and the point then rose.
Categories:
articulates, humorous,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
Let my voice represent those seeking emotional, physical and or mental emancipation!
Let my voice be that of the woman whose cries go unheard in the humdrum activities of this life!
Let my voice be the microphone that bellows the wails of the suppress, underprivileged and less fortunate!
Let my voice be that of the Freedom fighters: Nanny of the maroons, Rosa Parks and Susie King Taylor!
Let my voice be that of the unheard who speeches fall on deaf ears...
Let my voice be that of the unsung song that is shelved because it does not fit the profile of success- greed, sexual immortality, jealousy,
scandal!
Let my voice be the voice that seeks peace.
Let my voice be the voice that tells the stories of millions who were denied an opportunity.
Let my voice be the voice that speaks or articulates godly qualities.
Let my voice be the voice of those who have been muted by the society- The Unheard Voice!
Categories:
articulates, christian, courage, dream, hope,
Form:
Free verse
Dr. George Gey from Johns Hopkins Hospital
Was looking for cells that would be reproducible
Of their own accord for the benefit of medicine
And lo and behold one day found the perfect specimen
And how he acquired it didn't rattle his conscience
Because there weren't any rules then that governed the science
So he made them immortal or maybe God did that
Then he gave them to others who sold them for profit
And the cells multiplied and aided discovery
And they probably will help cure cancer one day
But where did they come from, the specimen's human?
Those cells were extracted from a mother, wife, woman
Poor Henrietta or maybe Loretta
Was a work-a-day lady who hailed from Virginia
She married her cousin and bore him five children
Then after the war steel work took them to Maryland
One winter's day Hennie felt her womb knotted
"Hennie," said Day, "we should go to Johns Hopkins"
"Henrietta, you're pregnant but there's something else growing
And what's in your system for sure we're not knowing"
So commencing the testing and treatment for cancers
But for all of the prodding came not any answers
At age thirty-one Henrietta died painful
And to her baby Deborah she'd be a guiding angel
So imagine her shock when she learned about HeLa
The cell line immortal that came from her mama
As reporters and charlatans flocked to their family
Some of them claimed they could gather owed money
But more than the money was the need to acknowledge
What their mother had given and pay her due homage
So bear with me now as I offer this paraphrase
Of the beautiful refrain that her headstone articulates:
In loving memory of phenomenal Hennie
A woman wife mother who touched the lives of many
Here lies HeLa her cells helping mankind eternally
As the Love forever to you from your family
Categories:
articulates, health, science,
Form:
Ballad
(The rehab of a supervisor)
My eyes! Saturated
with industrial crap, eventually
to intoxicate what’s left of one’s
bewildered brain.
My sight! Shackled to the
delusion of corporate inconsistencies,
when leading one’s head through each
enigmatic juncture.
My ears! Burn with unprincipled
mispronunciations, after boardroom
lampoons of delinquency miss the
mark, especially when delivered
within the queerness of each
insidious secretion, only then to be
viewed with suspicion, when basking
within the formulation of one’s own
comfort zone!
“Labeled” Non aspirant
when introduced to those
emerging within the endearment of
one’s company charter!
“Without ambition”
The blind clown of managerial youth
articulates, one score and five
not an option in this perfidious
global arena.
Astute! The annual assessment
in place, only to bolster
insecure managers.
A feedback, to aid keep one
in one’s place.
The first phase of corporate
correctiveness, complete with subtle
innuendoes.
Barriers! Put in place to analyze
inflexible overtones, before pleading
guilty of being in possession of too
many answers.
But alas! Enlightenment validated, only
if, of a positive kind.
Ah! Is this the answer! Positivity with
in this negative world, where truth has
lost its meaning in a labyrinth of
corporate “Lunacy?”
Seminar after seminar concoct to
intergrade somewhat aimlessly with
today’s intellect, corporate logic
filtered through hidden agenda, systems of
corrective surgery implanted, to keep
“Shop floor” On track.”
“I! And some, from
a bygone era, ridiculed, insulted,
with in the classroom.”
© Harry J Horsman 1999
Categories:
articulates, education, political, work,
Form:
Narrative
Whenever we get together as confreres in the religious order,
there’s so much to deal with burning issues and other concerns,
paucity of personnel links to inability of acquiring new missions;
indeed, a great need that our priority speaks for more vocations.
Like an investment in business where we cooperate with lay people,
our ministry articulates relationships with diverse cultures,
a key-word in evangelization walking with the poor people;
again, it’s what the role of the church echoes in today’s generation.
Across the length of time I’ve spent in the growing mission,
one particular item that always reminds me more than anything else;
live the lifestyle of poor people - aware of their limitations,
closeness and aspirations that someday they’ll get an answer.
God’s blessings are revealed in many dimensions and situations,
with strong faith in Him, along with patience and optimism;
one can move on and cope with hardly any complaint at all,
for he believes that God knows what’s best to every human situation.
It’s an endless stream of struggle, a continuing effort to better off the plan,
with individual’s cooperation geared towards the commonality of our vision;
that is to build God’s kingdom in our working relationship with people
where peace, love and justice would reign in every heart and soul.
Oh, after that engaging discussion, let’s share now the food that’s served on the table,
with all those good wines such as chateau haut gravet, montes alpha sauvignon,
pinot grigio, les ombelles, les glaneuses, les fondettes, les genets, vallee de loire,
made from good quality, with refreshing, toasty aroma, and weighty on the palate
their spirit keep us warm, aligned to glorious meaning that missionary life entails.
Categories:
articulates, family, food, inspirational,
Form:
Narrative
I have had too many spirits that have pushed me beyond & beyond seeking a brighter sunrise,
But here predominantly articulates my 26th mirror with my 26th esprit,
Besides a band of 25 mirrors and veinticinco espíritu lived since,
Now please hold, as I locate my account information,
The most current information available in my account is 981,919,688,919B-26,
That’s all, I have marooned in my account.
I know you heard things but let me put this candid,
Everyone in my life is a vanquisher,
And now I prefer to accolade and paint my family in words & this is it,
Tribute to my mother queen Stella & Rolls my Handsome Father,
Your souls are always the silence that watches over me.
Aclamaciones’ to Godfrey and Betty,
You’re my iconic golden illuminators whom I will always adore.
Cheers to #AnnaMary, Star70, my grandma,
You marshal my beautiful life.
Aunts’ Miriam, Robin, Esther & Nora, Santé to you,
You’re family, I can never say good bye to.
Sisters’ Julia, Dumez, Anita, Nataliya, Silva, Mercy, Mary & Eliza ,
I shall always enshrine you,
Because you have always uncovered the faulty lanes in me!
Brothers’ Paul, Joran, Robert, Abram, George, Ronx, Ivan, Patrick, Emmanuel & Jude
Let’s hold the entire universe in our palms!
Kin, everything you did & do was & is always a bell,
A bell that will always gong, in my cerebrum & heart,
And so in a making, our linage will always blossom century after century!
My 26 mirrors will always reflect you, kin,
Somebody who loves somebody is my 26th spirit.
Tribute to my 26 mirrors Contest & Family
T.m.TScripts
©BryanDePoet
Categories:
articulates, dedication, family, universe,
Form:
Narrative
I am not a politician
I have very little interest for politics
Reminiscing on Diddy’s vote or die campaign
Rallying behind Senator John Kerry Wishing I were old enough to vote
My how things have changed
Obama’s groundbreaking history was scarecrow
No brainer enticed me/I had to cast a ballot
I am still not a politician/I have very little interest for politics
Ruled by Caucasian Republicans and house niggas
Who don’t care about helping the poor
Or restoring a nation/ That seen the horrors of 9/11
Troops who went to war and never returned home
An economy that has knocked down
Some who were atop the financial ladder
To paper or plastic/Cheese with that whopper
Foodstamps and free Medicare benefits
Naive in a way when it comes to our leaders presidency
But I’ve seen the effort Healthcare among other bills
Met by Congress with resilience
A potential government shutdown that threatened
To send us to a modern day great depression
Insults being thrown at the first lady/Quicker than Randy Johnson’s fastball
But hey I’m still not a politician/I have very little interest for politics
Politics that haven’t seem to get past/ Obamas brown skin
The fact that the man be balling/Like he Jim Jones
Tinted lips from blazing Newport cigarettes and herbs Im sure
He is too much of a nigga /And they hate that ****
But what I think they hate the most/Is he's a polished nigga
With a Harvard degree, articulates well
And as Katt Williams so eloquently put it/He has no baby mama drama
He deserves the respect of his colleagues
**** it that he's swagged out like ya favorite rapper
Wears skinny suits and has a strut/
That puts Eva, Tyra, and Naomi to shame
He's a boss, Rick Ross
See this is why Im not a politician
I have very little interest for politics/Rather Im politically correct
Or politically incorrect/Never said I was a politician
My interest for politics lies in the lines of this poem/
Swaggarack capturing America's #1 terrorist
Left him deceased/On that Donald Trump they wanna see a death certificate
Spoof video, you wasn’t messing with Barack's Dougie
No way can I be interested in corrupt politics
Stomaching politicians with no morals
Reiterating again I will never be a politician
And despite my rundown of unjust riddles
I still have very little interest for politics
Categories:
articulates, political, hate,
Form:
ABC
Beneath the cobalt veil nothing blows.
Lying vast but still, a cloth of silken black.
Only an amiable ripple articulates its presence.
Imposing contours loom purposely
Declaring their magnificence
And my insignificance.
Illuminations pin pricked into the veil above.
More than you could count
Even with a lifetime given.
A Prince of unquestionable pedigree.
Enticingly fragile.
Dauntingly resolute.
Categories:
articulates, nature
Form:
Free verse
There are words that avoid the paper,
That hides from the pen,
That detest the ink,
That cannot be typed down,
That I cannot grasp
That is my heart,
That speaks without letters,
That still comes to life,
That articulates when let so,
With the language it invented,
With a vocabulary that is pumped through my blood.
© Gry W Christensen
Categories:
articulates, emotions, heart, inspiration, language,
Form:
Free verse
What the artist seeks to incite is a shadow of insight
Drawn out of the circumstance of desperation and regicide,
He becomes a spokesman for an intelligent design iterating itself into the human mind
He articulates the livelihood of the presence which confounds his nights,
Tearing seepage in his imaginative unconscious
Yielding unto the downpour of new words as unfamiliar feelings emerge
Xenophobic he cannot linger, for in the twilight of his contortion
The strange uniforms with hypnosis,
To the knowledge that approaching is the ferryboat that is meant to take him
The manifold of novelty unbounded in telling
Would he surpass the mirage of his peers’ regrets for his sanity,
The man will bring forth a new reality
What is worn
Is spoken as a token of return
To what is felt beyond
Worn to transcend the alarm
Categories:
articulates, beauty, inspirational,
Form:
Free verse