Best Capillary Poems
The sounds of the surf
From their fluid dynamics
Wind generated waves
Worldwide panoramic
Capillary waves
Chorused and light
Charming all shores
Touching delight
Swells of the seas
In cacophony of crash
Waves in watery meet
Like a guitar solo by Slash
Every so often
The rogue wave hits home
Tsunami, the wall
In kettle drum drone
The breaking wave
As two waters meet
The sound of their notes in collision
Like Neil Peart's drum beat
Shallow water waves
Boussinesq equations
Frequency dispersions
Like Rock's best creations
As the waves hit our shores
Wave shoaling, refraction
The applause as they meet
The Rolling Stone's satisfaction
The sound of the surf's rock
It's just like music to me
They achieve various notes
Like the Kink's " Set me Free "
I enjoyed Sara Kendrick's poem " Sounds of the Surf "
So i took up her challenge. My poem has Rock and Scientific tones.
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/nature.php
Categories:
capillary, nature, seasound, sound,
Form:
Rhyme
She once said
on a stormy night
before the first drop of rain graced tongues:
"Passion is overrated. It's out of style"
The crack of clouds blew grey into her face at that moment.
Umbrellas turned their skin inside out
The surf tasted it's own salt and spat it out in disgust
The black beyond broke rain capsules and sang in thunderous laughter.
Passion.
Lost?
Misplaced?
Nonessential??
We caught her up in our raincoats and hurried her into the nearest cafe.
Three hot coffees and her chattering lips.
Steam in swirly rings 'round her fingers as she shook.
As she cried.
Passion swarmed out of her words and caught the cafe on fire
It burned while we sat there
Peeling paint and freezing fingers
Raining sky in midnight's palm
We listened as she brought up memories
All ignited, having slept long past deadlines of ardor.
We cried with her in conundrum dreams
and kept the burnt out structure erect by our finger tips to scaffold.
A woman grieving should not be disturbed.
Suddenly, her words made sense.
The sky cleared
Her eyes swallowed their blue and returned the ocean to it's salt
We held hands, stretched across a cherry red booth reflecting every broken capillary in her gaze.
Sisters united in empathy's grasp
a circle of an undivided enclave
We stepped over the ashes of her memories
and walked her home despite her obstinate refusal for one of us to stay over.
Count down to 3am
and the petunias lining her front walk
kissed her ankles with the thanks of rain
She smiled and passionately picked the velvet purple
and placed it in our palms.
We saw the full spectrum of rainbows and heartaches
and growling thunder on the verge of lost adherence to love
all on her face in one evening
That night, she went home alone, to sleep on her side of the bed
with the shivering almost subsiding into the faintest scent of brewing hope.
Categories:
capillary, loss, people, words, rain,
Form:
Free verse
I have watched the sun pour fire
into a glistening lake
I have heard a miracle born
as mornings line did break
I have seen a thousand angels
living in this world
I have survived as feeble cries
were ignored and never heard
but it was when your gentle hand
caressed my rivers bed,
shooting for the spiritual
I couldn’t care if i was dead
brushing off the peelings
of dread and helplessness,
holding on for sobs
to stop breaking in my chest
kaleidoscopes of love
are thrashing through my veins,
filling every capillary
and adrenaline’s attained
for all that I had searched
it was buried deep inside
and now that its unearthed
I know I can survive
all through the fights and conflicts
as life and love have crossed,
I always felt alone
and sometimes thought I lost
but now with love of life
my shield and spear do shine,
and I stroll onto this lonely road
but all our steps are still in time
I’ll see you in the summer
as white roses bloom again,
and a stream of fire will flow
from the ink within my pen
Categories:
capillary, lifelove,
Form:
Blank verse
Helping my father and uncles when I was ten,
felled a tree, on break then ready to go again.
I walked around the corner of the truck
as someone pulled the cord and I got stuck.
Now that chainsaw’s engine didn’t start,
but it didn’t have to, to rip my skin apart.
Right through my jeans, but not too deep,
saw my flesh before it began to seep.
Dyed my t-shirt like a canvas with the body’s ink,
those cells made a mosaic from red to pink.
To my surprise, I was left with no pain,
but anesthetic’s steel lacked the mercy of the bar chain.
Skilled hands drove a cutting needle’s threads
through clotting cascades and capillary beds.
On my right thigh, a scar’s pledge,
for every kind of limb, Stihl has the edge.
----------------------------------------------------------------
Contest: Any Rhyme Form – An Early Childhood Memory
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
Written: 04.20.18
Categories:
capillary, adventure, childhood, family, father,
Form:
Couplet
I'm going to share a story
That happens to be true
Because it's sometimes good to laugh at ourselves,
I think. Don't you?
It happened in first year high.
It was a funny scene!
I'd like to share this memory.
Yes. I'm spilling the beans...
Our science teacher was telling us
All about capillary action.
He invited us to try an experiment.
The creative challenge was quite an attraction!
So at home, I did just so...
Found a jar and paper towels, as said.
I artistically attached the beans...
But no growth? I scratched my head...
" I've done all he told us.
I never let the water dry! "
So I approached the teacher, telling him,
" They've not grown! I don't know why! "
So, on his request
I took it in to show him.
His response was kind, was tactful
And after a long and thought filled grin,
He asked me what kind of beans I used.
" Baked .. Broad .. Kidney, with some shells to decorate. '
Then I added, ' Maybe they didn't grow
Because they are well out of date! "
Though I was proud of my ( messy ) masterpiece,
Bear in mind I was only eleven,
He had to disappear to laugh
To ask for help from heaven.
On return, he brought three beans.
He had something important to show...
" In processing, this bit gets cut off
That's why yours didn't grow. "
When he turned, I hurried off
With a face as red as rose.
My friend caught sight of me and asked,
" What are you doing with those? "
We laughed, she thought me crazy
To give it another try.
But two weeks later I informed the teacher,
" They've grown! " With lit up eyes.
" I'm so pleased it's worked out for you. "
He replied with celebration.
Perhaps because this will be historic!
Proof of the need for education!
So. When you think you've something sussed,
All may not be as it seems.
Although this lesson's at my expense,
I'm spilling the beans!
Written 8th August 2021
Categories:
capillary, funny, giggle, school, science,
Form:
Rhyme
HOW I MANAGED not TO BE A DOC
You know something,
Me a thing, I think not worth than a farthing
was put in a college of Medicine.
Paternal honour intact was to be kept.
Heavy in heart and blurred in vision
When thought of those bespectacled sermons
On blood and urea, capillary and neuron.
I tugged at my mom, a deaf ear she gave.
Like a prep child, I crossed the day
For the doom to impend on my lovely day
On the calendar on the wall with landscapes gay.
Oh! All because my father loved me so.
On that day I stood on a rostrum
Feverish, next to a corpse bloated and grey
I was to say my name and greet the group.
But all I could choke out was a meek gibber.
I fell down with a thud,next to the corpse,
funny,all came running to the body lifeless,
for he was the specimen for one whole year.
The thing I knew next,
On my bed cozy I was
And I think I heard my father say,
Smiling,
‘Oh,It is all right my dear’!
Categories:
capillary, education, funny, father, father,
Form:
Light Verse
Control me, console me, bestow and bless with your power and beauty
Possess me, caress my senses with exotic intoxicating perfumes
Cast spells with your existence and immeasurable intricacies
Elaborate, exact folds as if replicated in God made molds
How such beauteous bounty sprouted up from solid, sullen dirt
Annual artwork appears, here and there, just everywhere
If you dare to pause and submit to the permeation of Earths' creations
Fill eyes and nose, let pores absorb, OD on natures' natural healing
Entertain and entrance, illicit pupillary and capillary responses
Health enhancing, life sustaining, sole saving, anger erasing
No effort required to witness these miracles of all shapes and sizes
Submit, permit the anesthetic to sedate and elate as the desired effect
In heart and soul, feel the surge and satiety of brains' happy hormones
If be contagious, infect me now, and remain as a long term condition
Eternally may I be ridden and wrecked, afflicted and addicted
Every second, day and hour, every thought and breath and blink
Safe and effective, only side effects being happiness and love and passion while under the influence of THE POWER OF THE FLOWER
Categories:
capillary, beauty, emotions, feelings, flower,
Form:
Free verse
Underground rivers unsettle thoughts,
feelings on stable ground.
Real estate doesn't sound as real
with thoughts of hyporheic flow
beneath our feet,
out of sight and sound.
Rivers are meant to have light on top,
transparency.
Underground flow must look more like a furtive capillary
than an upfront tributary,
bringing salvific moisture
down into and across and through
deep ecological roots of fertility.
Hypostatic unions
are contrasts between understory backgrounds
emerging into focal foreground,
like darkness of night's flowing complexities
from which light emerges each day
then fades again,
like Yang creation stories
emerging from Yin
hypostatic partnering,
hyporheic flow
deep down within ecological consciousness,
subterranean channels
feeding timeless roots
of healthy real estates,
cooperative becoming.
Categories:
capillary, earth, environment, health, integrity,
Form:
Prose Poetry
The trackmarked pain on the televisions face raining out and cocooning his grave was not a
very good advertisement for reincarnation Wake up at last near the worlds end crescent in
fetal shape symptomatic riding electric spasms of rampantly distasteful nervous system
Insolent huge anxious insect squirming monster specimen hid in a safe watchful eyes
blinded by heaven next to me was vending machine annihilation Cartwheel of half eaten hint
of red tapeworm breathing concrete pages of dreary neon lighted soul suffocating streets
filed to a pulp Beer drinking benders on Saturday mornings no concept of time vibrations
running spit on floor of reality Psychological moral and artistic problems suicide gallows
with teeth in a grotesque nightmare interlude of cellular panic Your old and valued friend
of detrimental poetic tendency has defected there is no treatment - is it wrong to make
the patient as comfortable as possible? You should have seen a glass of whiskey slaying
Goliath on a respirator superior yet terrified the frivolity felt more lubricated then
usual (mixing another scotch stroking his brain) now that the music has faded I will sleep
until the end of time in a porcelain bathtub Capillary incision catalyzes tongues of a
flare ten shades of green that flings ignited subject exploding into space “Come on out
old troll, let us put daisies in your hair” Sanctuary in the embalming to emaciate the
wings Do angels ever cut themselves shaving?
Categories:
capillary, confusion, death, introspectiontime,
Form:
Free verse
Arm deals and more arm deals, that's all I see.
Calibres change, the type of artillery
Changes, the game players grey and go and
Are replaced by darker capillary
With greater thirst for bleeding enemy
And with more dangerous artillery.
Deadly toys in the hands of eager youth,
Intended for warding off intruders:
Scaring them with heaps of artillery
So that they would harder prepare soldiers
If the should covet and desire to loot.
In their minds they have peace in their brooders.
But to brood over unused firepower
While only playing with blanks on dummies
Kindles unquiet thirst only blood can quench
Kills empathy for sonless war mummies,
And in blasts of gun smoke the youth's flower
Drowns its thirst in the thud of fall'n bodies.
(c) Nyonglema
Categories:
capillary, africa, america, dark, death,
Form:
Verse
He stood beside the basin and watched her
Cower before him and his musk enchantment.
He took great pleasure seeing how
Her breast would quiver when he stroked her side.
He held her underwater for a moment with his hands
Just barely constricting the vessels.
The thought of how the water would ripple
Off her blushing thighs had caught his tongue
And he withdrew her just to see her wet.
Her eyes held fast,
Bashful,
And besetting.
Seizing the inches of his nimble fingers.
Subjecting her skin to the capillary crucifixion.
Biting and blundering.
Burning yet benign.
Uttering a name with no face.
Tugging a phrase
And sucking on the wastelands.
Eating at the seed who
Felt itself serve and strive.
As the steam rose to blanket their breath
He thought of ways to keep this going.
He thought of nights with a bitter wife
When she took him on the kitchen counter
With no incentive but a bad day at work.
He thought of her and felt himself churn
Not with lust but with a spiteful yearn
And thought of her smoothly seeping.
Categories:
capillary, adventure, allegory, angst,
Form:
Free verse
I’m anxious for my test tomorrow
Even though I tell myself in ten years I wont remember my grade
I still cant sleep
I take the pill
Wash it down and I find a sick comfort in knowing soon…soon I will find sleep
The elusive love of my life whose tempting ways creep up at all the wrong times
I don’t want you during class or on a date
I want you at night in my bed.
I want you to come more regularly than the fire alarms in Hamlin hall
I start to feel the release of my body as the pill courses through my veins filling my
capillary beds
I feel warm
I love it
I know i could roll over, but i dont care, I just lay here and it’ll all go away
The pain of the day wont even become a memory
The fear of tomorrow wont be a reality for a couple more hours
My friends say meditate or do yoga, but it doesn’t feel as good as this
Knowing that I wont remember a thing or hear an alarm
Knowing I wont care to wake up
It is through this I find joy and peace…
It is through this I find control
Categories:
capillary, angst, depression, fantasy, health,
Form:
Free verse
Why does the longing of lived wax melt clean off your wicks?
Oh, how do you hold a capillary existence fending off the ticks?
Over and over to lay wasted during the cold times, of treats and tricks
Daylight will return beauty to you in magical ways after the season of the sticks
Save your strength, take time to slumber; why be awake to witness the politics?
Categories:
capillary, nature, seasons,
Form:
Monorhyme
In this capillary forest,
behind the foggy bushes away from seas,
something that was once sun kissed,
now lies shriveled amongst the trees.
Let it know it will be missed,
for it lies without partner or friend,
deformed, diseased and disheartened,
maroon rivers now descend.
Still it beats like an old wristwatch,
tired of its own façade of sound,
aged like an old Irish scotch,
a game of hiding where your never found.
Through the storms and rainy nights,
lies curled up and without a fight,
collects rainwater and winter’s frost,
no love given, no love lost.
Categories:
capillary, lost love, old, love,
Form:
Rhyme
When it’s in motion its
deafening clatter will
mesmerise you if you
stand still and listen; but
when it is silent
the great room seems to sigh.
And in the yard the vans prepare
to course through a city’s anatomy,
deliver to every capillary
nutritional gossip and rumours of wars.
___
Note: Benefits from being read aloud, or heard in the head.
Categories:
capillary, life,
Form:
Free verse