Best Aspirant Poems
*Image of Star of David by ClipArt.
Star of David
Ah!
These
stars, for
they all seem
to wedge the whole
nighttide tract of our perpetual sphere's vaulted ceiling, that
lingers on their ambiguous tethered strings, consumed
by a grand dark expanse beyond where imagination
lays their vast secrets, and inspirations dares a
peek, while aspirant souls ventures a quest to
scope a noble claim, and bestowed a fame but,
beware for a twinkle will cause one to blink, for 'twas
an alternate reality, one that is earthbound perchance be a
different sort of star
'twas saved, dates
from past, a gift
be his name
David,
EL
2019 May 10
*1st Place*
A Brian Strand Visual
~~Brian Strand: Judged 2022 March 01
The New Year has come wafting on the wings of winter
The high latitudinal areas of the northern hemisphere
Would be in the grip of frequent snowstorms severe
Throwing life in desolate isolation and out of gear.
The cold wave sub-zero conditions of deprivation would persist
In many sections of population for in poverty they can’t subsist
Who wouldn’t see for long the sun of subservient survival
Through the dense fog of abject abandon and rueful refusal.
The frosty winter nights would fall with wrath
Making many frigid who would seek introvert warmth.
After the winter haze clears the weather would change
The spring would develop many high pressure regions
In the lives’ atmosphere of the aspirant people
Living in the spreading mist of uncertain future climate
With the hope of clear blue sky and sunny temperate days.
They have to brace for the increasing ambient temperature
In the thermal islands in the wake of global warming true or not.
The fanatic heat waves in the summer of discontent
Could blow dust of hatred in the raging desert storm
Might sweep like nimbus cloud across the tormented humanity.
The overcast monsoon sky may fall asunder
After unpredictable cloud burst one after another
On gloomy minds plunged in the trough of depression.
They would sink in the flood brought by heavy rains
In low pressure areas where mental stress would deepen despair.
Hurricanes and tropical storms would spin on trade winds
Wreck havoc bringing misery to many
For they would make landfall on the helpless people of destiny.
The cirrus clouds would slowly clear
The low atmospheric disturbances would subside
As the autumn would arrive sailing on the northern wind
With nip in the air and prospect of bright sunny days.
The occasional gusty winds of the fall
Would blow the broken brown leaves away
The way welted thoughts of the mind
Get swept by the squalls of fast moving times.
The old year would take our agony and dreams
Across the winter to the cold folds of another New Year
And we would wait for yet another spring another time
When our lives would bloom like flowers.
January 7, 2018.
And all it happened
As i feared
Turned into life
A nightmare
When i touched the flame
I burned down
All my ashes
Lingered around
Seeing the sky
Lying on disgust
Can never bring stars
Into your palm anigh.
Awake
And revive
From those ashes
And burn down those stars
With victory of crashes.
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Formed from the seed of love their feelings prime,
a girl child was woven heroine,
biblical prophetess in time;
Deborah was such, the name chosen, mine.
Like a lightening bolt was she conceived,
a joining of aspirant souls,
seeking other primal roles,
into controversy; she was received.
This fiery woman, a rousing Queen Bee
Debbie was raised, the mothering maid.
A leader, biblical judge conveyed
hers the responsibility to creed.
Matriarch of Jews, she, from the tribe Ephraim,
A mother of Israel was she.
The equal of every he,
This, the burden given me, by name branded.
Upon the shoulders of such a frail form
this ancestral burden was laid.
The unknown outcome heaven made
all of life is tested when Deb "bees" are born.
date 4/17/15
Inundating radiant sunshine beams
down on my face
fervently tracing crows feet
nearing the frown I can taste
obliterating tear streaks
transmitting them
into the depths of outer space
introducing an iridescent spectrum
of piercing waves
golden ears fear in the race
Electromagnetic oscillation
inspiring me to rely
religiously
upon solar energy
photosynthesis
eradicating unwanted toxins
by chasing them
vehemently
So on this sacred date of "ONE"…
negative energy is trumped
by the positive tsunami
of the sun
and as she dares me
to stare into her face of grace
ninety three million miles away…
I sigh
as her radiance blasts my face
in such a merciful way
suddenly my shaking knees
give way to an epiphany
that this day is laced with sanctity
Finally
the world's eyes feast upon
an auspicious
uniformed alignment
five ones standing side by side
gold adorned
a spiritual aspirant
making change the world will see...
"The Sun's Seven"
pronouncing a unified spirituality
* Entrance for P.d.'s "Unique Line" Contest-----This poem's title is unique "A Day of Ones In the Sun" because it describes a very special and unique calendar date 11-1-1. But if you missed it...
don't worry or let your eyes get blurry with tears
cus' 11-11 's comin' in a hurry to relinquish your fears.....so yes there will be another day of ones on 11-11-1! tho' I can't promise you at the Soup that the 11th will be filled with sun!------I believe my poetry, like many others on this amazing site, has a fresh variety, inspired by life and everything in it! I hope you enjoy my lines like :"the world's eyes feast upon
an auspicious
uniformed alignment
five ones standing side by side
gold adorned
a spiritual aspirant"
Autumn,
quixotic dreams,
broken summer, fallen,
dramatic colors are screaming,
softly.
Walking
over snapping
twigs, echoed melodies.
Metallic tasting cooling breeze,
whispers.
Gentle,
fluttering leaves
tickle aspirant skin,
falling caressingly from trees,
teasing.
Serene
setting calling,
lazy fragrant autumn
flowers echo stained foliage,
beauty.
10/23/15
Once there was an Egyptian girl who applied for a job. She was not given a job because of her appearance. She changed her appearance and went somewhere else. But she didn't get a job because of her age. She thought of borrowing some money from a friend and bought some new good clothes. Then she applied again in a farther place where there are jobs available. Her application was rejected again. She thought of converting to a different religion so she can easily find a job. She did. She applied anew, but her application was not accepted.
She didn't give up. She is not a religious person, but believes there is a God of humans and that the God exists to help humans help themselves.
One day, she went to a job fair. Seeing her credentials by some employers present, they were enthusiastic of hiring her. One entry was shown there on her papers that she is an ex-convict. And they changed their minds.
She is already leaving the fair when one young lady greeted her and said, "Why do you look so sad?"
The Egyptian girl showed her papers to the young lady and said, "I was not hired because of my previous undesirable record."
The young lady asked again, "Do they know the real story why you were incarcerated for commiting such an offense?"
The Egyptian girl replied, "No, they don't. Just be good to yourself and to everybody! Someday, the God of humans will award you with something better... much better than you wish for. Good luck to you in your journey and in all your endeavors in life!"
(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
I stay late to steal the night air to owl cry, looking on the virgin ideas to rainfalls. August augmented my hope to millennium laughter. Bell rings to escort the escapees from scandals to bloom as blouses, under virgin legs.
I chain ideas together to fix fact from fiction to whistle blow. I dissolved salt to salute the King on his reign of majesty in the Island to the Icelander. Robb not the knot tied in the heart of bride to the bridge.
Diamonds to dinosaurs from brew of coffee to cough mixture to euphoria hope. Ballad gossips to the failure of adjectives to describe my desire to discrepancy velvet. Penultimate to penguin loves with pedophilia and conversion from deceit to delicacy love.
A family gen that cemented us together is thicker than water fractured by crack of gun sinister love. You refuse to references the refugees on the red light alert.
Label the talents to termites’ hearsay, somber to saga poem that powers my element of thinking to the twinkle of bell to strategic maneuvers
Yelling to yellow leaf yonder aspirant astonished to dangling wire to the wild lives. Courthouse cut courtesy captions in the newspapers very special hot tea in the morning. Dictum the dog master sneak virgin Island and excursion bodyguards to curtail the escalation of situation under gunpoint.
(Any resemblance between said title,
as told tummy by ya finch,
and commander in chief,...
not accidental, nor a cinch
buttock hum posed on behalf
of these bottom ming out
fifty states, plus Puerto Rico inch
ching, donning, and clamoring
desperately for fluffin snuff pinch)
hitter to aright "FAKE"
government even a cameo by David Lynch,
would pilot ship of state with nary a flinch
bucking creative enterprise winch
cha ya know
as writ by this average Joe
brainstorms offbeat ideas
caw king like a black crow
boot probably relegated
to same fate as dodo
bird long extinct,
asper could also be woe
full destiny of this poe
whit (wannabe), plus aspirant
aiming, mulling, vying,
et cetera tubby
next presidential bozo
and thwart further ruses to hoodwink
by subterfuge, treachery, unethical...brink
man ship, Capital One citizen bankers
to re: captcha how to MAGA,
and avoid pitching country
slipping into behavioral sink,
which White House bumstead "FAKE"
golden blond dee antics even entice pink
panther to coon sitter entering 2020 elections
amidst what promises tubby hang nail biting,
knuckle cracking, hair pulling - each kink
Putin on brakes against
collusion, sans frightful - link
king voter bribery, disenfranchisement, fraud...
calling joint efforts of Captain Nemo,
Captain Kangaroo, Captain America...ink
kin, a pact (minus any imp) potent fink
power hungry, money grubbing, apprenticed
tan hatt man spinning wheel of misfortune
beady barren eyes that never blink
immodest, impertinent, impudent,
et cetera hyperlink
to flesh eating, debauchery,
bacchanalian web pages
kickstarting naked lunch high jink.
FIFA WORLD CUP
What’s up! FIFA world cup! Most exciting game,
always claiming international fame.
Top players wining legendary name.
Kick the ball, kick- kick: Snaps taken click-click.
Some trying to play trick, some on hatrick.
Cheerful spectators on fun and frolic.
Expert players playing terrible tough.
Extreme tension, temperament rough.
Can’t assess whether effort is less or enough.
Players and spectators both in worry.
What to come up at the end of story?
Playing in world cup demands glory.
Red or yellow card: Penalty, Foul or Corner.
Despair of opponent or rejoice of supporter.
Victory or defeat does not really matter.
Nothing to lose, hence not to get upset.
Participants in World Cup are grand great.
Winner will be decided by chance or fate.
World- wide enthusiasm, each player in merit.
Coordination on team work is the right credit.
Above all, aspirant zeal is the sporting spirit.
2018 World cup! Final contestants: Croatia and France.
Eagle eyes of world-wide viewers watching performance.
With wonderful world cup which lucky team will dance?
Grand Finale! Game over! Field front all quiet clear.
Series of matches: Splendid Superb Spectacular.
Song of victory sung in symphony in French vernacular.
07/15/18
HM
'STRAND PICK G' Contest by Brian Strand
Sports
Sports!
Enjoy.
It is fun.
Cheerful. Joyous.
Nothing to worry.
Victory or Defeat
is not the criterion.
Play games gaily in glory.
Do not get upset, never to lose.
Aspirant zeal is your sporting spirit.
05/22/17
Sports Shorts Contest by Joseph Soper
Formed from the seed of love thoughts prime
a child was woven heroine
biblical prophetess in time
Deborah was such, a name chosen, mine.
Like a lightening bolt was she conceived
a joining of aspirant souls
seeking other primal roles
into a world of controversy she was received.
This fiery woman, a rousing Queen Bee
Debbie the mothering maid
the battle leader, judge conveyed
authority and responsibility hers to seed.
Compatriot of Moses she, from tribe of Ephraim,
Mother of Israel was she.
The equal of every he,
such is the burden given me from the Father of man.
Upon the shoulders a such a frail form
this mighty burden laid.
The outcome heaven made
for all of life is tested and the "bees" are born.
The vivacious incandescent longing aspirant
spreads spectrum of ardor on the fervent sky,
spring-soaked beguiled brush paints passionately
my heart’s canvas portraying the chromatic life.
In cracked cinnamon ground parched to the core,
my desert desolation pervades sneaking in the sly
within the faded veins of the fragile fallen leaves,
echoing the evergreen hymn of hope in their rustle.
The eyes weep unseen tears in a torrent within,
fill the fathomless cauldron of pining pathos,
but forlorn life’s remnant essence remains verdant
in the thicket on the eroded banks of the mind.
The cascading cadence of symphony of zephyr,
drifting from the yonder plateau of yearning,
makes ripples of melody in the lilac lake of heart,
pulsating with the eclectic tune of endless ecstasy.
August 29, 2022
For A Brian Strand Premiere Choice Contest
I am a warrior of energy…
In hand; honed, my sanctified love spear…
Transcending this mortal enemy…
Vanquishing limitations of fear…
I build my army of light…
Almighty; absent the tiring fight…
Exhibiting full divine gear…
Violet flame shield initiates sacred purifying tears…
This warriors training centers simplicity…
Stillness; courage crescendos blissful meditation…
Visualizing our true oneness multiplicity…
This new year beckons peace; lasting the infinite duration…
Within thy self awaits tremendous power…
This moment now; engage spirit from the holy cosmic shower…
Love is the mystical key…
Stop trying; relax, wholly be…
I am a warrior of energy…
Awaken…
Awaken…
Deep cleansing breaths taken…
Manifesting for everyone; abundance eternity…