Best Centimeter Poems
DEDICATED TO EVERY PERSON WHO QUESTIONED THEIR SELF WORTH BECAUSE SOMEONE THEY LOVED LEFT THEM
Love grabbed me by the throat with both hands
Choked away the doubt and hatred of broken bands
Kicked me in the gut and flung me to the floor
Stripped my ego and jolted my awareness at its core
Cleared the cobwebs that once clouded my vision
with strokes of a master nature painted my mission
An oil based one of a kind classic
My life written like a movie an epic
Love lives in me again
like a revelation amen
Beauty, glows from every centimeter that is me
hope hip hops in every stride as I walk briskly
Music walks to my beat now I hear it everywhere
and the bluest of skies high fives me bare
A new love found
a trust abound.
for the first time in since I don’t know when
my senses breathe the fresh view of now and then
Blessed by the mother of all that lives
Nature smiles on a union that always gives
I love what I see
Finally I love me!
Armand
- breath blushes blue between us ...
you ask the question
THAT question
so, you're requesting rationality, lucidity
when you stand before me dressed in pure starlight
ONLY starlight, with moon drops in your eyes
splashing your coy smile like rare south sea pearls
damp from our cool evening swim, you shiver
dancing drops of dazzling diamond dew
shimmer like dermal constellations
turning your sublime surfaces into an ocean of sprites -
haute couture by the Cosmos
precious few and precious, times like these
when those definitions of love made in youth -
those confusing impulses of the emotional and physical
swirl and spin and wrap me like fleece
passion, desire, beauty … and love
spun together like soft cotton candy -
sweet and sticky and warm on the lips
melting together with THAT question, THAT concern
but what IS true? what defines "reality"?
what will last beyond this intense need to have you
to know you, taste you, every tender centimeter
every curvaceous, sublime, secret spot?
you stand there, perfectly imperfect, pert and saucy
form covered in tiny bumps of enticing invitation
your body’s braille, pleading
steam rising into the cool evening air
like a sigh from your skin
waiting for my answer - my affirmation
but I am mute ...
entranced ...
numb …
- I will let my body … speak.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Splash" Poetry Contest, Kai Michael Neumann, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 4th Place ~ in the "2019 Poetry Marathon Mile 24" Poetry Contest, Mark Toney, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Screwed XVIII" Poetry Contest, Rob Carmack, Judge & Sponsor. (No cliche's via PS Cliche Finder).
~ 10th Place ~ in the "Best Free Verse In April - Not For A Contest" Poetry Contest, Laura Loo, Judge & Sponsor.
i guess i shouldn't let the color of her eyes wake me in the night
but i miss her.
her voice sings to me in the shower i should listen to the rushing water
but i miss her.
when i laugh i hear her laugh with me, i shouldn’t
but i miss her.
i know now love isn't enough.
you can love each other with every centimeter of your make up
but realities will sometimes trump that passion
you fight for it, years if you have to
you just dance in the soiled water of the flood
but sometimes,
well like i said,
love isn't enough.
this isn't a sad story,
a feel sorry for me discourse,
the moments were real
they still live with me
she is a part of me
us is still in me.
i still smile when i think of her,
i guess i always will.
but sometimes, in the capture of a moon lit night
i also cry.
I can’t breathe,
variety is a spice at risk of facing the ban
the neck is pressed by the knee to show the superior one
yet our organs are complete and we bare the same name-Dan.
I can’t breathe,
I’m forced to marry vices as their notorious wife
two meters around me, there should always be a knife
because the sun is white, but I give colour to life.
I can’t breathe,
even in beauty, a mate sees me as bad art
he smells the rose and subjects me to inhale his fart
positioning my image to play his wild dart.
I can’t breathe,
in a bus for all, I’m avoided like decayed meat
I grab a space and pollute the nearest empty seat
eyes staring at me from souls ready to beat.
We can’t breathe,
can anything good come out of the club of peasants?
the best we can get is the glory of an assistant
the intent to always deny us our goal is blatant.
We can’t breathe,
they block the fantasies to show just poverty
their trade assumes, we are still their property
b’cos what is less than a centimeter gives them sovereignty.
We can’t breathe,
if they continue to steal this power.
We can’t breathe,
if they continue to keep us lower.
I can’t breathe
I just can’t breathe,
please let me breathe
b’cos I still can’t breathe.
For the poetry contest “I can’t breathe”
Sponsored by Richard Lamoureux,
Published on the 8th of June. 2020.
Placement: 2nd Position [14th. June. 2020]
The loneliness of night cloaks a desolate sky.
Drizzling rain clings to devitalized windowpanes.
Staring, longing for an escape from reality.
Ruminating thoughts keep sleep at bay.
The flicker of the television hums in the other room.
Dragging myself, I sink into the doldrums of a discarded sofa.
Turning up the volume, the weatherman describes a tempest coming from the northeast.
Burnt out, silhouettes of notions run rampant.
Even the soft glow of the TV has become too much.
The wind is starting to howl now.
I can feel it whip around the boards of this old house,
Like ancient bones rattling through the ages.
The porch blinds suddenly, violently thrash.
Getting up, I close them before slipping into my pajamas.
Preparing for something just out of reach,
Always a centimeter from my grasp.
I lay in a desperate bed.
Ever-expanding darkness shrouds me.
Yet no relief arrives.
Swollen eyes no longer produce tears.
Vocal cords no longer produce sound.
Just silent screams going unheard into the mattress,
As sanity finally slips through the threads of unyielding fabric.
The art of thought is our lovemaking connection,
histories a ladder to hypnotic healing, corrections uninvited
to our planet of puzzling passion
where a man and a woman make maps with crayons borrowed
from the cries of curiosity's cravings,
uncaring of the unwanted,
lawless in the laps of circumstance's tracks,
Homer & Tacitus imploring their heros to hush
as we warm arteries with a potion of Poetry unknown 'till now,
a tempest of truth she is to me,
teasing with pause & prance, with virtue & volatility,
with the caution of a Queen & frivolity of airborne feathers,
I did not ask for her, nor wish her to squeeze my heart,
regardless, I am now selfish, hunting for her hints
aspiring for the apple of her knowledge,
for the seed of her permission in my pulse,
I need her to sweat for my sweetness,
my will to hide abolished in the heat she spreads in spades,
I love my poet girl,
sometimes I am sorry for it, always excited by it,
sorriness skipping like a song wandering for a world with no wastings,
believing in beauty because she breathes,
I would tell God to wait so that I may play a moment more
with my poet girl, exchange another story, build another belief,
to bring our fears one step closer to nowhere,
to walk our eyelashes one centimeter nearer to completion's tear,
having our harvest support Heaven's uppermost tier -
J.A.B.
I grew up with inches, yards, miles, and feet.
I knew the difference, it was easy, and neat.
But today I am far behind in the dust because
Metric scale is what the new math does.
Millimeters, centimeters, cha cha cha.
Pencil thickness is about one centimeter. Rah Rah Rah.
Ten Millimeters is one centimeter, reminds me of cents to a dollar.
I may be catching on, so I stand up and holler.
One hundred thousand centimeters is a kilometer, friend.
One hundred centimeters is a meter, did you know that, Uncle Ben?
Millimeters, centimeters, cha cha cha.
Paper thickness is way less than a centimeter. Rah Rah Rah.
Now I think of my recipes. Did they change the tablespoon too?
Do I have to worry about cups, pints, and gallons for my glue?
I used to know my measurements, but everything is new.
Don’t even show me the rest of the new math. It is a boo hoo.
It is the same as 2.54 inches.
It is part of the metric system,
Which is also called a SI unit.
This type of measure is more accurate,
Than the English or U.S. customary.
Scientists use SI units or metrics system,
Unvoluntary.
“Teenager,
The growing youth,
The future leader,
The light of the nation,
Listen to the words,
All mathematically,
Like the equation y = mx + c,
The y-intersect you can meet at
As a young girl or boy, which might
Make a proper fraction, or an old man
Or lady to make improper fraction,
You might be driven by multiplying
Alco by hol which produces the product
Alcohol, thinking that you are algebraically
Dividing the eyes of parents so they won’t
See you. Hey! Listen you are multiplying your
Day subtractions on this earth,
Subtract the other part of your external life partner
If you were simultaneously connected together
To be non-linear simultaneous equations, which might
Be difficult to be simultaneously solved, don’t fall in
Love with a man who cannot stand perpendicularly to the
Ground,
Become zero today, you don’t need
Addition or multiplication,
Always power yourself to zero to always and
Constantly become one if instance you were mistaken
And shaken, do not be between brackets of subtraction
And addition if you are addition, since subtraction might
Swallow you because of her wide mouth,
Teenage pregnancy,
All mathematically,
Avoid being in each and every man’s hand like a scientific
Calculator, don’t make circles like a compass around boys
And men, don’t helplessly lie down like a thirty centimeter
Rule, be wise and focus girls and boys, remember teenage pregnancy
Is not girl’s pregnancy,
All mathematically, take care”
This Poem is about racism
Have you wondered:
That Homogeneousity is relative and does not exist?
Why air is a mixture of gases and not just one matter?
how the radiation from Sun consists of several raws?
How Metal and Wood can make up a door?
Why each Animal Genus has a species and more?
Why diversity is the bedrock of Nature?
And no National Flag consists of only one colour?
Why then:
Green and Black Grapes cannot be at par?
Coffee and Whiskey cannot be served in the same Bar?
A Sunflower and the Rose cannot grow in the same Jar?
And then we make these pairing possibilities seem so afar?
And Yet!
Some make one less and the other better.
Even with the advantage given to the latter,
it still turns out to be the hater.
Leaving the former feeling very bitter
and in both minds hatred litter
and forgetting that the difference is not as thick as a centimeter.
Entice the essence of the word
A lexicon of value heard
A luxury of words astute
With salutation and salute
Inside this circle, only squares
And children point with double dares
A solo singer comes in pairs
While stepping down to climb the stairs
I'm sending letters without stamp
A street light stands without a lamp;
Deduct the darkness from my bill
My empty tank too full to fill
A centimeter is no inch
Before the punch it's time to flinch
A baker's dozen has thirteen
And what you saw you've never seen
When I get home I've gone away
I work too hard when I'm at play
Tomorrow is my yesterday
My ferrous feet are made of clay
I win the race when I have lost
Find out the price but not the cost
My brand new plane is highway bound
Square holes I own are in the round
I guess I've got a problem here
I ask for wine and got a beer
I know the words but cannot write
I have my eyes but have no sight
I think it's time to go to bed
But when I do I'm getting up
I did not say what I just said
So pour my saucer in my cup
Allow me to count this day
Already been paid
Covered christened and laid
Presented on a tray
Delicatessen sweet taste promenade
Beach side staircase
Grazed with escalades
Why trade
When it is finally
Right for me
Been popping bottles of Cristal bubbly sensibly
Fizzled fences draped curtains gold trimmed TV
Imaginary
Why not see beyond galaxies
Tragedies all I haven known
As a child now that I am grown
Will never beg buy gracefully own
Part of the legacy kingdom rightly centered throne
Alone
Will never be surrounded by an army
Gideon fought a battle with less than I did
Why kid
You thought I was going to bag down
Shhh backup came and knocked the fleet to the ground
No sound
No air no pressure
A length a time to you is given centimeter pressure
Why weather
A storm I do not have to chase
Words render skill yours tied with a shoe lace
Why take a fool for his gold
Fell too many of times listen while this story is told
News casted broadcasted all over the world
Smell like you ate haters leftover girl
Why whirlwind when truth is in my vein
My name has never been the same
But changed
To fit my situation
Am I mad because of the hating
Skating
All over the grounds
Just because I look young wisdom landed some how
Wow did that
Faced that time and time again
Just as they thought I fell Holified still got up again
Round 1 then 2 maybe three times it took
Guess I'll add another hater and even sign another book
When you look up there yonder the eye
Every centimeter on God’s body and cloth
Each star in the universe of the unknown
Permeates God’s tears of mercy and redemption
Involved in making God weep are stained souls
Nursery bed of criminal sin thrives in their hearts
Goons of earthliness tend rainbow beautiful sins
God’s grief sows hunger, wars, disease and fear
On the land perceived as the cradle of humanity
Divine force only can delete the durable vices
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A beach hut in my mind atop the shores of time and, a friend of the outcast....
Not always upon the outside nor, even the in although
I have had moments along lifes journey and way ~
Makes me consider a recent verse: how can one love what they cannot see?
See what they do not seek? Everyday another centimeter deeper
Into the depths of love I go; knowing, that I am not alone....
A friend of the outcast, what a wonderful thought and dream!
This bread for the heart and nourishment for the Soul ~
The crippled, blind, lost, alone; obese, but to whom and nerds and geeks???
Julie Bristow called my humble self Sir Galahad once but, twas a joke
Ah, but to be so gallant....
Cut by the knife and here comes my chance and, considering
Eternity, inside of their beautiful eyes and precious lives ~
A full tank of oxygen, tropical waters, white sands and misfits; myself!?
Looking at them all now amid these splendors, more brilliant their colours
Than the heavens which paint the sky and their laughter, tis a symphony
These melodies; rising their resounding within the land of broken toys....
But broken unto whom? Makes me smile, makes me cry, but not for long ~
I haven't got the time is what I used think until one day, I died; borne inside?!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
....“A Friend of The Outcast” *
Note: Smile ~ “Another Repo * The Winter of 06/07 ~ `Love, Always,`” John!:) ~
I love staying out until dark
dusk is my favorite time to embark
going home causes me to become eager
there's nothing to do for the seeker
television is okay but it's not productive
playing cards is fine though deductive
I tend to travel to deep inside myself
I must learn to inactively propel
It seems they continue inventing things
to hinder self-sufficiency without strings
it's not called boredom for this I fight
we can't drive he can't distinguish at night
there's so much to say but I won't attempt
it's not worth the repercussions for to kempt
I can't relieve but to notice on this page
the lines are much longer when I have words to engage
I still don't understand an Iambic Pentameter
or I'd be writing Sonnets in place of rhymes in centimeter
all I need is the right teacher
I learned algebra from another dreamer
I surely didn't learn it in school
monotone didn't work for me as a rule
privacy would be admirable as I jot down this theme
one could dream