Best Brainstorm Poems
Being strong is his only option
Satisfaction is not always the fulfillment of what you want
when you gets stuck in an unwanted situation
Witch hunting and lynsjing
He loses control and it makes him desperate
The bitterness has taken over, as a development of a toxic virus
Bile from the stomach leaves a bitter taste on the tongue
His defense mechanisms are in constant preparedness
It's about making choices and all choices have consequences
A fear of losing his identity, total paranoia
Thoughts like a spider web in destruction
The water is polluted, rape of our world
Twisted lines of madness ...
nightmares, tears and flashbacks
He does not know the rhythm of the music
Brainstorm Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: John Hamilton
~ 4th place in the contest ~
16.10.2018
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
From an insufferable, unceasing rain of disappointment,
I try to hide my scars under the cloak of a smile.
Alas, this master of disguise, fools but one.
My dreams are like a reverent prayer
that's lost its relevance to love.
Shrouded in ominous clouds of deception,
I am a refugee of doubt with no joy in reality.
I wade through poems that never rhyme,
from memories that never mend.
I cower from this rumbling squall of loneliness
and shrink from the shards of misdirected words.
The mantle of hope escapes my ambitions, forever silencing my courage.
I am drowning in discontent.
Brainstorm Contest
Sponsored by John Hamilton
10/16/2018
1st. Place
" . . . madness . . . retain,
Which rightly should possess a poet's brain."
Michael Drayton (1563-1631)
a writer of poems must be quite mind fractured-
we brainstorm the abyss of our thoughts
deep, deep inside
for our ranting
looking for the broken pieces deep in the void
of our life- and open old jagged wounds
this writing is a mania and urge
we travel the calendar of our cracked mind
seeking inspiration- bright thoughts
with instinctive
delirium . . .
a writer of poetry is spontaneous-
to wander paths of the mind- forced to mend
exposing self
rupturing soul
all in the name of poetry inspiration
recollecting sad events for the sake
of penning bleeding words for our readers
we brainstorm- crotchet our poem at night
we weave it in dreams incoherent
we must write it
must, must, must, must . . .
_____________________________
October 19, 2018
Poetry/Free Verse/A Poet Must Brainstorm
Copyright Protected, ID 18-1072-614-01
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Brainstorm
sponsor, John Hamilton
Second Place
a diabolical grace ...
dark, deep, warm-black arms of
an endless night wrap me ...
head thrown back in abdication -
arms spread wide in surrender,
falling backward, back, back, onto a
hard dogwood blackness ...
nails of my own stark weakness
fasten my hands to a
weighty tree of terrifying introspection ...
poison saturates my blood,
courses with its curses through the
very vessel my soul inhabits ...
dictates to me by the minutes the
movements of my muscles,
states of my vapid organs, thus ...
responses and emotions, true,
like the visceral, mighty hand of some
morbidly jealous god, squeezing
the true and the good from every last
cell of my being - the strength
and health built by a lifetime of good
habit and task, torn asunder
by a guileful beast - a duplicitous, faceless
monster that I invited in from
wintertide like some pitiful, starving fawn ...
oh, it IS pitiful in its treachery,
and it starves - oh yes, it starves ...
with a hunger for souls and
lives and accomplishments and truth,
and it eats them ALL with a
lust unending, and a ravenous fury,
laughing at you with a Cheshire
grin, your own warm, crimson blood on
its shining, chiseled teeth ...
and while you tremble in horror at
its stark visage, while you
stare transfixed into lifeless black eyes,
the face changes, the abomination
transforms into a beauty so pure and
compelling, that your only
thought and desire and compulsion,
is to drink it in with a kiss as
deep as the Universe itself .. to pour
yourself into it with every
passion and emotion you can scrape
from the ice-flaked walls of
your conscience, to merge with it, join it
in all abandon and care and
affliction, and give yourself whole to the
dim, shadowy vehemence
complete, while the deafening roar of your
own screams and scratchings,
plays a somber requiem, final - a sickly
sweet song ...
of obliteration.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Brainstorm" Poetry Contest, John Hamilton, Judge & Sponsor.
Finding Abigail
“Abigail! ~Abigail!...where are you, my love?
I can’t see you, nor smell you, let alone touch you…”
A nebulous cloud encroaches the corridors of mind,
Where a fallacious hope seeks its refuge in silence.
“Abigail! Is that you? I thought I heard someone talking…”
Disembodied voices revel throughout the empty voids,
Existence in the grand abyss impenetrable from both sides.
“Abigail, I know you care about me…I can’t see you,
but I hear you…I remember the time we met my sweet,
the sky and air stood still until we embraced…
then came the fireworks…we must still be there, for all I see
is smoke my dearest…Abigail! come back my love,
I’ve lost you in the smog!”
Illusions begging resolutions, the marginal mind wanders,
Taking with it memories of what used to be,
but now has been abandoned.
“Abigail my love…I’m afraid…can you hold my hand my sweet?
this is no good, I can’t reach you…where are you…Abigail!?”
The subject is going into Cardiac arrest… convulsions are increasing!...
We are losing him! Quickly flush with at least 20ml of 0.9% sodium chloride…
“Abigail my dearest…I can see you…so beautiful you are…come to me
My love…come closer...let us start anew.”
Nurse, prepare him for surgery…there is a good chance we may save him…”yes Doctor.”
“Abigail! Abigail! ...I’m losing you, my love…come back, come bac, com…”
He’ll be OK now…we saved him, but sadly he will still be enslaved by love…
Oct.04.2018
Brainstorm Poetry
Sponsored by: John Hamilton
Placed 2'nd [1'st of 8]
Waking, she inspects the color under her sweater
and sighs that vague orange is still wearing her.
Orange can’t be her friend until it reveals its core.
While white is already a friend, the floating ones
aloofly speak of odd concerns she cannot pattern.
At times, float-whites hear, but never do they listen
or cease insisting that she has dreams, NOT visions.
Blue, green, pink and white all bring truths to her:
if she finds the correct umbrella, she could fly thru
blue-white skies adorned with smeared pink pops
over green’s velvet-thick and lush laid blankets.
When she gains the doors other side, freedom
will lead her to the right, flight-ready umbrella.
Sorting and storing colors keeps her busy all day.
Her favorites - blue, green, pink and white shades,
she tenderly places in see thru plastic jars, all
other colors she discards as too bland hearted.
Daily relief is happily seized by determining
not even a kernel of purple is in her world.
Purple startles, it is pain’s chosen dispersal
that circles and circles until she curls up,
prone atop piles of her own broken pieces.
Occupied with her color heaps, she spies a white-
float fluttering in her doorway at a time too early
for the syringe of colorless assistance
that simplifies her organizational tasks.
She hears white make words but disappears
inside of all pink things with soft plumes.
“Both your parents came to visit with you.
They are waiting inside the purple room.”
I want my anger
In the dark of the night it protects
Nourishes
Provides
It is useful
It keeps me wary
Ripe
Watchful
Without it I will crumble
And be reduced to smallness
softness
sadness
I need my anger
It makes me a woman
Feral
Untamed
Fierce
Anger faces unflinching what
Would reduce me to a girl
innocent
vulnerable
invisible
And isn't that what he wants
That thing that makes him feel
Hungry
Forcible
So I keep my anger
Close to my chest
Burning
Expectant
For the day I will let it fly
Searing
Straight
Extinguishing at last the monster
Living inside.
Brainstorm Contest
Sponsor: John Hamilton
10.18.18
Placement: 2nd
The hidden blueprint of destiny encoded in gene
manifests in marvels of anthropogenic evolution,
constructs shifting designs of life’s kaleidoscope,
changing with the time and morphing with vision
of the complex landscape of innate human nature
the architect brain makes.
The unique vast domain,
depth endless, carved out in the nebulous space
where the soaring birds of imagination freely fly,
where the crimson sun of dream rises and sinks,
the floating mind finds lighted way on the wave
the flashing brain makes.
The transient lone voyage,
destination obscure, in uncharted course on sea
when life is struck by the tsunami shock of agony,
when clouds of dementia dispel neurons of hope,
the wrecked life drifts losing anchor in the storm
the turbulent brain makes.
October 8, 2018
Thunderclap of thoughts
twirling
swirling
spinning faster
frenzy of feelings
headed for disaster
black clouds building
once again
lightening bolts piercing
flashing
on stormy seas
waves are crashing
in my mind
I'm everywhere
and no where
tossed about
from place
to place
filling up with doubt
tears stain my face
they spill out like rain
in torrents
pouring
down
cyclone in my brain
I'm up
I'm down
with thoughts that tear
and confound
pieces of my mind
fall to the ground
they scatter all around
by winds of change
as the storm rages on
in my brain
When the sun tries not to shine
And the rain won't fade away
When the clouds black the sky
And you can't tell night from day
Remember why we're here
We make the world a better place
When the tempest is severe
It's the tide we can change
©2014 Honestly JT
I can see the stormy cyclone
in your eyes
as your stare helplessly
lost inside your mind
reeling in a flood of confusion.
Desperation rises in your voice
as you rapidly express
disjointed thoughts and fantasies.
You wander inside a mirrored
maze of distortion
frantically searching for an escape
groping for a sensible thought
some semblance of reality.
I can see your pale brow
knit in pain, as small beads
of sweat trickle down your face
your expression a rigid mask
of catatonic anxiety.
Oh how I long to help you
dear friend, to offer you
a healing balm
a soothing word
a hope to cling to.
I hold your trembling hands
as we bow our heads to pray.
Written on 10/18/18
A melancholy thought, travelling at the speed of light
Moves through the universe of the mind
Seeking to find answers
Dealing with matters of the heart
This storm of emotions, caused by heartache
Seeks to escape from the mind
Like an electron from an atom,
But then explodes into the deepest realms of the mind
The thought, still moving through the storm
Settles in the dimension of long term memory
And there it lays dormant, beside
The sphere of emotionally charged memories
--
10-12-18
Brainstorm Contest
Sponsor: John Hamilton
In my dream, I dived into the cauldron of magic potion and then... here was what I beheld:
There they huddle together seeking for peace
in their brainstorming session
as agonizing creatures of the night
tortured with self-inflicted guilt...
"I am a mother beseeching for counsel
for my daughter diagnosed with bi-polar mood disorder;
in good times, she declares that she’s the reigning Miss Universe
vibrantly, she talks to everyone… cheering them;
yet, during her down moments, she shuts herself in…
forgetting her hygiene routine, failing to eat
and worst of all... wanting to end her life
since she sees herself as a worthless worm."
"Please help us..." Sobbing midst angst
is another family member, recounting the misery-turmoil
they are going through in handling their brother’s denial
of his mental state … that when reality-check is done
they are the ones accused of not regarding the factual situation
or not being “understandable.”
Awaking, here I am today, praying with them in reality
as we come to the Lord, entreating for His power
to strengthen the parents, blessing them with patience
while they show their love, care, and support to and for their child.
For those who are cared, we plead for soul-healing
with the Prince of peace prevailing in their hearts.
We claim with triumphant hope, anticipating for His answer of grace...
believing the Scripture’s truth of Isaiah 26:3,
“Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace,
whose mind is stayed on thee:
because he trusteth in thee.”
October 20, 2018
2nd place, "I dived into the cauldron of magic potion and..." Poetry Writing Contest; Sponsored by Anoucheka Gangabissoon; judged on 3/7/2025
Inside my brain resides
A deadly combination
Of my mother's maniacal heritage
And my father's drunken rages.
A perfect storm, if you will,
Leaving behind dreams
Destroyed by doubt
And hopes undone by fear.
Leaving darkness and chaos,
Echoes of what was
Or what could have been.
Broken bones scattered
In the recesses
Blown by winds of despair;
The worst of nature and nurture.
Yet a small flame still burns
Ever so dim, ever so constant,
Waiting for a gentle breath
Of compassion to fuel its light,
Waiting for love and understanding
To shield and protect it;
Compassion, love and understanding
That must come from within
And flow from my heart.
As I grow in strength, I strive
To overcome anger and hate
And desire for revenge.
I work to cultivate forgiveness
And let go of ill will;
Loving what has been deemed
Unloveable
And esteeming what has been deemed
Unredeemable.
I release the captives residing in prisons
Awaiting my judgment;
For they are not mine to judge.
Inside my brain resides a perfect storm
Twisted and turned;
Tempered and tamed
By clouds of compassion.
10/18/2018
How little we know
How much we believe
truth ever changing in our mind
as new information arrives...and yet
minds can turn away from truths
emotion's hands are easy to follow
and sow doubt to cloud truths
we cling to our comfortable worlds of human folly
not understanding reality is always changing
life is always growing older
death is inevitable and brains are used more often to destroy
then create and build a flourishing environment
where does it leave us as we pass through life
oblivious to most things in creation
knowing only struggles in our own worldview
forgetting...we are only here once
as we waste precious time arguing over trivial matters
clinging on to strings wrapped around us
by our own small groups finding comfort from fear
in an unknown universe that gives life and takes life
without concern
where belief is more important than knowledge
easier to develop stories of eternal life
surrounded by winged creatures
than to stare into an abyss of reality
10/19/18
contest Brainstorm