Best Configuration Poems


Premium Member Cosmos Configurator

When I gaze far off into the night sky
The chaos is not pleasing to the eye.
Seems there was never an overall plan
When the beginning of time began.

I don’t mean to sound so high and mighty
But the stuff up there’s not very tidy.
Yes, there are luminous constellations
But it needs cosmic configuration.

When figuring out just how to plan it
I started on the jumbled up planets.
It’s not a stretch to say they need sorting
And here are a few things I’m purporting.

First I thought they should be alphabetized
Or at least ordered according to size.
They could be arrayed by number of moons
But I think that’s getting too picayune.

Sure, there is a listing of other things
Like arranging them by their colored rings.
Or by what lie’s hidden beneath the dust
That entirely coats their outer crust.

I settled and placed them by dimension
As said plan will cause the least contention.
Starting with the sun, since that big old orb,
Can’t help but lead; being so self absorbed.

Petite planet Pluto, this time is first
Mercury’s next, then trodden Mars comes third.
After that Venus, followed by our Earth
Which were in that order, now they’re by girth.

Let’s jump up to Neptune, then Uranus
Which happens to rhyme with Ignoramus.
Yes fancy Saturn, you go next in line
Jupiter’s last, since so easy to find.

Let’s continue this celestial tale
By systematizing the scene, broad scale.
We’ll journey further than Venus and Mars
To coordinate the world of stars.

We can array each pulsar by brightness
Which doesn’t interest me the slightest.
Or chart them based on their distances from us
Though why on Earth quibble with all that fuss?

Instead we’ll do what the globe mappers did
And arrange every star on a grid,
We’ll plot a rough draft on large graph paper
Like olden times, by light of a taper.

Now, you can choose a square and stick by it.
Worry free of the old cosmic riot.
Where each and every star is viewed best
Whether gazing to north, south, east or west.

The sky is looking much better by now
And all the skeptics will have to avow.
That once you know how to rework matter
Like here on earth, it’s the size that matters.

Premium Member Syzygy

                y
             g
          y
       z
    y
 S                         Sizzling Sol:
                heartthrob of the
                           starlets
   each wants him to
 shine on only her
                                                          young Luna
                                                               waxes
                                                            poetic
                                                       hoping
                                             to win him
                                                                               but Terra,
                                                  who should know better
                                               is  blue-green with envy 
                                             at being thus eclipsed


[yalto form]

// Syzygy: The nearly straight-line configuration of three
                or more celestial bodies (as the sun, moon
                and earth during a solar or lunar eclipse) //
© John Watt  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member The Melting Pot

The humid air sweats streaming curls down the toddler’s flush cheeks like Fusilli hot from the stove. The golden ringlets cling to her forehead, bouncing like Slinky’s in front of her, blue-agate, eyes. The backyard’s sounds-bat cracks and wise cracks-surround her. Squeals echo from the mounds of loam behind her new house. The homes out back form a red, yellow, blue, green monopoly board configuration.

The sand box she sits in is full of scrap two-by-four blocks. Using a naked purple-haired troll doll, she attacks the pine-block castle, tumbling the battlement. A plank spans the puddle 
(created by the leaky green garden hose). The barefoot tike, troll in hand, starts across the board toward the moonscape of mud mounds; where her sister and friends run screeching armed with rotten tomatoes. She almost makes it before falling in and running mud covered to mother.

Polish Catholics, Italian Catholics and Irish Catholics, lived side by side with English Presbyterian’s and we errant, runaway, Jews. The scent of tomato paste, knackwurst and borscht wafts through the same soupy air, where we play King of the Mountain. Big Boys and Plum tomatoes flew indiscriminately through the August air like missiles. The only thing which stopped the action was the distance ringing bell of the Good Humor truck, here on Cherry Tomato Alley. Here where each new neighbor had transplanted themselves: their children, their gardens, their sprinklers, and their cars to fulfill the American dream.


First Published in Melancholy Hyperbole Spring 2015


Syzygy

Turquoise tides,
                                  scintillating
                                    traces
                                      drape hushed prairies
                                        in indigo hues.
                                                                  
                                         Dancing to
                                          ballads
                                         of wild breeze,
                                        love soaks
                                     enchanting
                                   moonlit waves,
                                down the crevice in
                             galactic syzygy;

                                                   blend
                                            me in your halo.

Syzygy is a linear configuration of celestial bodies by conjunction or opposition(usually during lunar or solar eclipse). It also represents the fusion or a pair of opposing elements(for instance, the conscious and the subconscious minds).

May 23, 2020
Pick-A-Title, Vol 18 - Yalto 2 - Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Theme 3: Syzygy
Winner: First Place

BRIAN'S SELECT 6,any form,any theme
Winner: Honorable Mention

Premium Member Red Square, So Rare

Oh, you ARE a beauty, that's sure
          And are we really so different, you and I?
               Miracles, exquisite, born from the forces of the Universe
     Once, the quantum cosmic stuff of stars ...

Coursing with the energies of natural physics and dynamism
          Dust, helium, hydrogen ... we were melded in the bellies of suns
               But my existence, blessed with the spark of life, sentient
     The ability to cognate and discern and ponder

To appreciate with eyes and spirit, all that is wonder and art
          But perhaps, in your cold maelstrom of actuality, you prevail
               For your incredibly unique heart of crimson chaos and spin
     That oh-so-rare glimmer of geometric configuration

Knows not the horrors of loss, pain, terror, and death
          All that sublime beauty and blossom shall continue on, timeless
               Long after the concerns and cares of corporeality
     When I'm dust again, you'll still drift and dazzle and shine ... boundless.





~ 1st Place ~  in the "Nifty Named Nebula's" Poetry Contest
William Kekaula, Judge & Sponsor.

(I chose photo and nebula number seven, The Red Square Nebula, as it is my favorite, and, I believe, the most unusual).

Premium Member It Started with a Blank Canvas

I picked up some words,
From an over heaped pile,
Words which impressed me most.
Put them carefully onto a blank paper,
Like a practiced player placing,
Rooks and pawns on a chequered grid.
 
Seeing page after page getting filled
With a deluge of words, I felt thrilled,
Viewed it casually from a distance,
Like an artist looking at a painting.

I saw words become colors,
My prodigality with words impressed me.
I gloated over my ability as a writer.
Lo! A work of literature in crude form,
Stood ready, willing to be chipped and shaped.
All left was to give it a form,
A stroke here and there,
Some finishing touches!

“It’s all so damn easy,
I shall keep the thing aside,
Ample time lies ahead.
I can now relax, take a break”.
I said to myself, complacent.,

Days slipped by and months rolled away.
One day I took out the scroll,
Wiping the dust and cobwebs away.
Read through it slowly,
My former illusion just faded away.
Its stale familiarity repelled me.
Words stuck out here and there,
Making no coherent sense.
All I found was a jumbled, jotted mass.

To me, ere they looked like lovely dames,
Colorfully dressed up for a mega show.
My eyes were dazzled by their costume,
But now when I wait for them to fall in line,
Gyrating in rhythmic steps
They stand still as a disorderly mass,
Refusing to budge an inch,
Unwilling to sway to a rhyme.

Lost in a barren desert of words,
With each grain of thought
Looking so similar, lacking uniqueness,
I set aside my empty new canvas,
Which I had kept ready for re-entering.

Until the artist in me comes up
With a new configuration of colors
Let it rest in the drawer of my shelf.


Premium Member Character and Personality

As
 
liquids accommodate themselves
 
by 

taking the shape of the vessel they are

poured into

so 

one's personality is developed  

by 

adjusting to the mold his character 

provides!*







© Demetrios Trifiatis
       17 June 2020


* Character: (Gr.: character, from the Greek verb "charassein" to engrave) A name for the collective traits, emotional, intellectual, and volitional, which constitute the individual mind that Man is born with! 

**Personality: Characteristic configuration of behavior response patterns that each person evolves as a reflection of his individual adjustment to life.

Watching You

Your eyes never opened after that last long kiss

You pulled the dark curtain of sleep about you

Your body fitted against mine in perfect configuration

And your hand upon my arm about you

We always fitted well in all things

What was it that you said?

“Do you know why God put those spaces between your fingers?”

And when I shrugged, you fitted your fingers between mine.

 

Watching you alone with yourself within your slumber

I came to realize that love can only be appreciated

When we imagine what we would be without it

And in that moment of my pondering

I discovered many things.

Your touch was more profound than a million hands in applause

And touching toes to be sure you were there 

Was a communication far superior to internet

 

I determined then that a kiss was indeed a luxury

And a moonlight whisper has more power

Than all the chants of protest across the world

Walking hand-in-hand had far more meaning

Than any three car garage

And your head resting upon my shoulder

Lightened all the weights of a troublesome life

And without you life itself would fade into obscurity

 

The complexities of life never altered the simplicity of us

We drove 200 kilometers just to eat at The Fat Duck at Bray

We camped overnight in the ruins of the old Cathar castle

In the hills beyond Limoux where we found the cave 

And when your father welcomed us into his home

But commanded that I sleep in a separate room

You told him, “He is my life now, you must understand”

And we slept at the Albergo al Viale and drank wine at breakfast

 

And all the wonders of my life were there

Lost in that nocturnal womb where I could not go

And when moonlight filtered through the limbs of trees

And decided to dance upon your face

I also learned that God could promise me nothing more

For my salvation was beside me and the gates of heaven

Opened with your eyes of morning

And my soul would come home again for another day

Last of the First Elements

Last Of The First Elements

(H)  Hydrogen is sweet and gentle by design
A nucleus with an electric and positive charge
Found everywhere in nature at large

It lives an ordinary life in time and space
On the periodic table, it simply waits

As #1 in line to start, begins the chart, for other elements
Very stable, not too many threats come from hydrogen

(Uuo) Ununoctium on the other hand, is one of the latest
Of the most recent discoveries as #118 on the table

The last element is #103 "Lawrencium
           (we'll save that for another day.)
           (It's on a lower chart)
These elements are as unstable as a fable 
Precarious things, to say the least, on the chemistry table
Only existing for some milliseconds at a time

Since  Ununoctium was created, not pure or found in nature
Perhaps it’s time to start
A new life for itself as #1 on a new elemental chart 
Of invented elements 

Born in a nuclear reactor from calcium ions and radioactive californium
A most unstable baby from birth
It lives to the ripe old age of 0.89 milliseconds

But what a wonderful life it leads
Don’t ask it on a date
Or say anything about its atomic weight
Too much drama there…. There it is!....There it isn’t…. Unpredictable 
It looks a little like this when naked on the shell
1s2
2s2   2p6
3s2   3p6   3d10
4s2   4p6   4d10   4f14
5s2   5p6   5d10   5f14
6s2   6p6   6d10
7s2   7p6
It is simply divinely designed with a lovely configuration
Not exactly a split atom, or personality with a disposition
Being here or there 
To be precise, it is something rather nice… when in existence

Created on 12/03/14 for -Periodic Table of Elements – Poetry Contest

Premium Member Cyberpoetry: Electromagneticprayer

Electromagnetic spectrum, forgive us of our transgressive Trojans, 
as we forgive those for sending viruses, malware and spam to us.  
The configuration of inert wisdom begins with a point and click, 
the encrypted biological commands are configured to obey.  

Will the 30th century make everything automatic, 
digital newspapers and magazines synced to the frequencies of the brain. 
Will there be one president to rule the world, 
who built rockets for interstellar travel so he or she can rule other worlds?  

What if the IT administrators accounts were locked out, 
three unsuccessful attempts and the last human administrator loses their job.  
In the year 3030 will biological intellectuals be forced underground,
after being banned for using technology that eliminates hunger and poverty.  

Electromagnetic spectrum, give us this day, our daily dose of technology,
so that we may spread your technical marvels and technological morphing wonders.  Children are born with cameras and video recorders embedded into their nervous systems, every crime or premeditated sin will be captured and transmitted to the sin police for processing and appropriate disciplinary measures.

Our eyes will shine bright with technology, 
nanotechnicals releasing feel good chemicals during awkward or hostile situations.  

Electromagnetic spectrum, lead us not into the future, but deliver us from the future. 

Amen.

Premium Member Hobey Ford

A witty puppeteer of still creations
Wooden images of live emotions
Rubber, plastics, foam and paper
Strings, thread, metals and caper
A wonder boy of imagery
Son of inspiring father of vividry
Hands of a mathematician in action
Engineering of imagination in presentation
Emmy winner of citation
Man, full of life and nature's configuration

The Preparation of the Wise Men - the Camels

They always made me happy, 
The camels of the wise men, 
The slowness of their footsteps, 
Their self-sufficient ben. 

Camels meant there was time, 
For the three wise men to think, 
To ponder upon their task, 
To review their role as a link. 

They were required to assess, 
The child to be called god’s son, 
To see if he could be a doctor, 
To the poor, and to be the action.  

Mary and Joseph were important, 
To their question of universal worth, 
So they prepared themselves well, 
With questions surrounding his birth. 

They understood that environment, 
Is a factor in child development, 
So endeavoured to contextualise, 
The place of the baby’s commencement.  

They predicted they’d be rejected, 
By townsmen all along the way,
Spat at, maybe jousted with, 
By loitering agitators arbitrarily.

Especially at the door of the inn, 
There’d be jesters and jostlers alike, 
People shouting “Don’t go there!
Avoid them, and get on another bike!” 

And equally importantly, with respect, 
They thought of their theology, 
That their own actions may be vital, 
To improving others’ sociology. 

They considered their belief, 
In an immanently coming messiah,
And renewed their vow to choose,
A protege who would take us higher. 

So by the time they reached the inn, 
They were very much prepared, 
They could talk to each other freely, 
About the saviour that’d been blared. 

And the camels facilitated all this, 
Preparation and consideration, 
And gave the magi their pondering, 
Upon seeing the configuration. 

They enabled this baby to thrive, 
Gave his family his manifestation,
And felt spent entirely at their visit, 
Worn out by careful deliberation.

Premium Member What Goes Around Comes Around, Ya All

Let me be clear with no fear 
an atigent of disagreement of any future tense pretense configuration that needlessly resends a sociomatic sick sentiment catalyst unbeknowingest clause to a comma, plagued prism contentious albeit forlorned, bilateral, incompetent un pleasured coexistant so inter de pendent unglorious unprofounded skeletal unborn neutral nimnul copesetic cantrell unconscious, nebulous, candid, corrupt, pissed, rancid begulied diligent procrastinative encarnate afoot that mean melds a quantitave ugly compliance reticient of the never unability that gives us a knowing intelligence that we r all knowing? Not so so as we r as stupid as we think we r not in an alterium of a never universe of platcum rememberences sequated in a knom neverence x, ed out in u shoulda known better u idiomoron. catapult me and my mi8ind in the now pretenenserence of my own social stupidity as I believe waght id direb fbty in  fgront off mer as I choooooooooooooose to bebe an nu ignginant dickk too thate whatr fills my hallf bbrain stipulance of knownn alfabetikal crimppted vocabb. yea bab by 19844 all overe a gain. Byive ask me my own speckle speech so we can diederive a nonnoun abeyance to thswt which is of a no nonsense cadence beligerent to anti intelligence co axial speak. kill me as i coincide a pop prenatural bloodhold so as not to forbid a dandilion coincidental catagory that leadlends itself  unto a miserable mind meld obtuse **** analogy heretofored f150. Can I be friend myself all over again given my suffering and pain from all of those who were to love and care let me die in my absent sorrow or is there someone out there that is of my own ilk that can offer a kernal of composite hope before I cut mysellf to a fluid end? Do I even have the right to assk of another person to delve into my crap and give a rats ass???? Is there enough love to run the gamit, to render yrself oneself uncompliant for a moment to staiate another human, with altruism to get them by and expect nothing in  return, as we all believe in the KARMA that is a final, unrequited reward for good and love. Be it all ye may and give all.

Time

Four dimensions, yet three in one, 
Location, space and time,
X Y location, space around, and in time, 
We don’t consider an X as without a Y really. 
So quantum mechanics stand to floor, 
The claim of the atom’s indivisibility, 
Because there’s always the atom’s nucleus to consider, 
For qualifying it to be the smallest thing we know on earth. 

What’s time’s beginning is made of?
Can be minuscule, 
That subtle ignition of structure, 
Which formed life’s foundations, 
Set joy and inclination, 
That lit truth’s mandate to do the right. 

I was in hell when I was young, 
But time was a friend, 
Let me speak even when I couldn’t form;
Credibility is on time’s side by time’s identity,
As time’s the only form that can claim credibility, 
Without having acted or done, functioned, 
Only having been, only having presumed
Because credibility is the essence of that configuration:
That’s why you need to be a friend of time, 
Because time’s credible without you, 
And time will give you life, 
Time will not demand respect. 

I have not changed my view of time,  
With ages, triumphs and tragedies, 
But time has changed its face to me: 
More friendly, more gracious, 
More amorous. 

But I needed people on my side more, 
More trust surrounding my disability,
Sociology was not once nice to me, 
When time was on my doorstep. 

However, I could say it was my fault, 
More determination would’ve sufficed, 
More belief in two of us, not individuality, 
And more trust in asking emotionally, 
About anything, the physical. 

Time is truly physical, when it’s analysed, 
Because physicists inquire into it resolutely, 
And so I will always have that friend, 
Which I made as a child of recondite contortion.

Control Panel

Excuse, may I perhaps suggest that you adjust your settings
Access my local area network by rebooting your memory
Restore it to our history, the mail, the messages we shared
The cache of stored work temporarily filed away remotely

Technically challenged by the format you display
Data of no gateways or connections in sync
Prompts the recalibration of my control panel
To search and review my settings reboot or even restore

Closing all windows and formatting firewalls
erasing the data, the history and their locations
troubleshooting the back pages encrypted
with messages no longer managed or stored

This media of you remains pasted on a clipboard 
Components that await configuration and review
Left to their own devices by default in my domain
Downloaded, bookmarked in favourite library files

I delete all prompts and search settings and all tools
Inheriting only drivers generic and with false attributes
I apply these settings, I delete the data sources
Denying permission to any external links of you.

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