Best Conflates Poems
she wears on her skin
the perfect girl of his dream
her highlighted crown
conflates an embellishment
emitting fashion design
June 16, 2015 10.15pm
A little smile delights my soul
A little money appreciates my life
A little love achieves my goal
A little care flatters my wife
Strengthening my resolve to perform better
Duties and responsibilities I bear
In my role as family pace and trend setter
In spite of mundane outfit and suit I wear
As through lifetime I educate siblings
Endeavouring to develop their potential
To scale heights, to break through glass ceilings
Beyond the conventional and the unintentional
As I elect and select to reflect on reasons why
At crossroads complications sometimes arise
To conflate faith and pride in minds of the lie
Lost in a labyrinth where to no surprise
Confusion and division estrange sinners from thinners
In the midst of splitting hairs and spreading fears
Among the lost sheep who deem it unfit to hobnob with cleaners
Immersed in verses of gossip as on my face tears
Roll down, fall on my chest in my quest
Into well intended missions that fall by the wayside
Too low for zero as I invest efforts to test
Waters in altars of misconception and prejudice propelled by personal pride
Gone too far to dilute and denigrate the sanctity
The salvation mission entails among fishers of men
Who appreciate Jesus didn’t die on the cross to pronounce sinners guilty
But to save humankind and I from the odious omen
Misguided human lips with little knowledge utter
As they wallow in a sea of benighted bigotry
Where they play God and pronounce themselves better than the sinner in the gutter
Who pleads at the feet of Jesus to send her providential poetry
To open human eyes to tenets Christianity holds dear
Not because I say so or I should denounce the new millennium Pharisee
Whose grasp of the biblical truth swims in turbid unclear
Seas of ignorance where the blind and the benighted can’t see
Limitations and diminutions brought about by little knowledge
Raised to a puny pedestal
Wreaks havoc as it conflates sewage and sacrilege
To decelerate a hallowed harvest and cause it to stall.
Student
Would you allow me to argue
In the end so as to agree;
To bear with my “warped” view
To analyse “holy” decree?
Would you deny me a chance
To free my mind and express
To liberate my soul with dance
I might feature in the Press;
For, keys on creativity’s gate
Are Argument and Debates?
With self we argue or deliberate
To expunge all that conflates!
JM
28th January 2014
He said he’d watched a tutorial.
He said symmetry was a myth
fueled by Big Geometry.
I laughed. That was my first mistake.
My second was passing him the scissors
without asking him about his dominant hand.
(It was vibes. His hand was vibes.)
Snip.
He called it edgy. I called it
accidentally spiritual—
because seeing your own scalp
before coffee
is a kind of awakening.
He apologized by making pancakes
in the shape of angels.
I joked, You know these look like ghosts.
He replied so sincerely, I don’t see it.
And that was the moment I knew:
this is who I chose. The kind of man
who conflates confidence with capability,
specters with satiety, and bad haircuts
with love.
I could have done worse.
That bald spot grew over,
like a lot of mistakes—
as if nothing had happened.
But when I hear the snip-snapping
of blades testing the air, I still flinch.
Just a little.
Which is to say, I’m older now,
but still not immune to vanity,
or apology, or pancakes,
especially when they’re fueled
by good intentions.
Humility
Hardened hearts, harbor hate
Haughty eyes, penetrate
Honest folks congregate
Holy Spirit conflates
Happiness permeates
Humankind celebrates
Humility is great.
For Kim Merrymans H pleiades contest
Feb 19,2016
Marion Cotillard
said Lady Macbeth if you're French is quite 'ard
what i 'ave to say
it almost conflates to my auto da fe.
Our minds have grown,
into edifices of slips that turn to
pride...
and eject a lifelong withering pulse,
to reveal you.
The grueling drips have dragged,
a common understanding of
our enduring limits
into empty nights,
and inside a creeping smile...
that again reveals you.
Inside us lies
a sown up compassion
for intricate devotion screaming for space...
yet conflates all seasons into one.
Awaiting our trust,
a wilting journey compelled by minds,
concealed from vivid and storied
acclaim..
declares defeat...
In youth's frantic clutches
Addicted to vapid touches
Love children spawned in shaded hutches
Existing on euphoric highs, painless crutches
In middle age, lust morphed into longing
Spent body in static sphere now belonging
Neglected prodigy seeking shelter in availing arms
Licentious, pretentious friends fled in swarms
Sins of youth girdle my deserted gates
Promiscuous flings my esteem deflates
Rebellious children their fealty abrogate
Venal lovers rue my chaster estate
In deep morass, my withered soul equivocates
Bridging divide of self pity, butressing hope inflates
Then residual pain with due penance heart conflates
Seeking self forgiveness; from others proffering rebates
Healing balm of inner resolve soothes empty soul
To wayward children unconditional love tendered not in
part but whole
To fair weather friends only distant compassion will dole
Forthrightly, to bring uplifting, sharing friends into my
foal
Lagniappe was received
As proof of incipient
Love that conflates with
The azure offing as the
Cynosure of sea romance
3-13-2016
The art was most masterful on the dark canvas.
It seemed as though done by a gigantic genius
Colours clashed, popped, hopped, splashed, and slashed like soap bubbles.
Shades, strips, and spots with secret sacred stateliness
Hidden puddles-puffed puzzles, troubles, and struggles...
Like shade-stung sunlight, there's sweet sadness behind smiles.
Rays of fate between the skin and the skull are seen.
Though feet are not seen, legs seem to walk many miles.
Where have the eyelashes gone? Have sleepless eyes been?
Mysteries of history are seen like smoke fog.
Why a black-white amalgamation on sky peaks?
Is there an unseen spring-summer transition clog?
Lo, each paint-pattern on the canvas of time speaks
Art, in its heart, bleeds with love for each little soul.
Each little soul, in turn, conflates with the cosmic whole.
I’m a racist, you’re a racist, life looks racist too
and one more proof that all are sinners (tainted through and through).
Even babies fear a stranger (cling to mama’s skirt);
inborn, we’re trained, or raised by parents with imperfect love?
Categories plague our species; souls (smeared black with dirt)
we dare to protest (in our stupor), wear Christ like a glove!
You’re my friend, but who can be who dares to disagree,
who even hints a strangeness lurks inside the heart of me.
Christ saw evil in disciples, swiftly called it out!
A friend suggests that you’re a sinner, and you’re prone to pout?
Called unfaithful? Enemy? You’d call one friend who lies?
Suggestions do not prove you’ve sinned; rejection of a friend IS BAD!
Counsel from a friend’s so precious, life seen through fresh eyes.
But choosing friends for honesty, my friend, this concept’s RAD!
Funny how all sin conflates to bring us where we are,
like monkeys, hands (stuffed full of cookies), trapped by ‘loudmouthed jar!’
Who deserves to win God’s favor, should a God exist?
For time must live outside His presence, where our dreams persist!
We, who dream that there’s a Dreamer, know our own dreams fade
that we’re not God, still dream of heaven, hell; might death be gain?
Souls are real, or human lemons beg for lemonade,
a sweetness that might last forever; few give thanks for pain!
Yet, it’s pain that nurtures wisdom (Christ’s death is God’s rock),
while butterflies more love to flutter, summer’s breeze as frock!
Brian Johnston
30th of August in 2020
Beyond consciousness, everything conflates
and a unknown excursion awaits.
Slowly one will start to alight,
drifting into a adventurous night.
A world that reality can not compress,
and all the possibility's are endless.
Inner desires you can unleash
and the ability to climb to a point you never thought you could reach.
A delusion of what one may want to see,
A magical pathway of fantasy.
So, when the sun draws nigh,
the dreams will end with a open eye.
Written: June 02, 2024 For Regina McIntoch Contest
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Discovering God doesn't bear broad browsing
He's all over on Earth's orbit or cosmic orbs
He is not an allusion or scarce
Faith is a notion that God conflates with spirit
Life is a cynosure; we should not deviate
Fulfill kismet, will balmily distaff nemesis
God is love, auric values lighten others' lives
He is present as a gentle breeze sways palm fronds
He hears the soft rainfall on homeless tin roofs
In gloom, He watches ants swarming on ivory stone
Seek Him in the joyful gaze of a child
Or in the fragrance of blooming orchids
Or as you comfort a grieving friend
He is present at the first cry of a baby
And the last breath of a dying man
He is there as waves crash onto dazzling coasts
And as seagulls soar across vast white skies
Seek God as you bite into a ripe mango
Or as coconut juice quenches your thirst
The divine manifests in subtle forms.
Released from the prison
Of the extended word
Verse offered
Asylum
And a means of escape
Carrying me deep
To where the future-past
Hides
All time to mislead
—as the present conflates
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2015)
Living in the present
living in the future
One conflates the other
betrothing joy and hope
Moments breed contentment
from wishes left unclaimed
Tomorrow rules our nightly dreams
— and all today holds dear
(The New Room: December, 2023)