Best Connective Poems


Premium Member Existence

Life is music that drifts in open spaces
        sometimes a brash crescendo 
        that brims with the fullness of now
when stories break from narrow, rigid scripts
        stifling random routine

Life is free wheeling inventiveness 
        peacockish
        a feathered tapestry
        parading like a wedding dress down the aisle

Sometimes life is a ping pong bounce of sorrow
        giant ball
        that blurs the sky
        that covers our eyes
                              a fog creeping into ruined places

Life is a tumble of forces
        a counterpoint of malice and joy
        that goes in an unexpected direction
                              like the connective chords of love
                 an airy drift
                 amplified
                 in the ringing rush of time





Poem composed: July 2/2022
Categories: connective, appreciation, encouraging, growth, life,
Form: Free verse

Slamming the Super-Duper-Soupers

you want to know a secret
when I write a poem and it's perfect
i dont share it
i bury it 
deep inside of me 
where no one else can see
i mean its perfect
not like this shift 
it's elegant, poignant, 
simplistic, bueatful 
trucking perfect
its not erotic 
but i read it
mentally masterbate to it 
a euphoric chorus 
straight form thesaurus
its just that great
im not being egotistical 
if read, it would become universal 
a meter tethered in clasical measure 
a rythmic flow
with many metaphoric undertows
an iconic harmonic tonic 
to make you feel like an embryonic hedonic youth 
im not being napoleonic
its an actual truth 
factually accurate
high in heaven
it produced a tear in the eye of god
who proclaimed 
not a single flaw
not a single flaw 
and he only saw what i wrote
well, because hes god 
me being me i like to tease 
allow me to be inclined to share a few lines 
blow your mind 
redefine your collective defective perspective
realign your ineffective respective connective tisue

"all my cows milk is homogenized 
all my crows are well organized
all my sheep like to stare and creep 
like to stare and creep"

but you'll never see 
the rest of my secret poetry 
that only exsist inside of me 
cows will always moo
crows will always ka kah 
sheep will always go baah baah baah 
and the perfect elagance 
of my literary inteligence 
will die with me 
never being seen 
qouted, memorised or plagerized 
as i will say with my last gasp 
the next line being twice my last
all you super-duper-soupers can kiss my ***


ok all you super-duper-soupers have been slammed. if you want to slam me back just a few things. make it funny. make it a little nonsensical and definitly make it over the top
and if you do slam me back send me a soup mail or leave a comment so i can go read your slam.
© Nathan D.  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: connective, humor, slam, perspective,
Form: Rubaiyat

Life Is Messy

Life is a mess and needs constant cleaning
Soap Opera glasses and bodies acquire meaning
She said this; He said that
Bureaucracy is getting fat, fat, fat

Life is a mess with no sanitizing
Half empty or half full is agonizing
Media talk; on the job gossip
Interacting with people considered Drama Prophets

Life is a mess and will stay as such
Many humans seem to lack the connective touch 
Work harder, longer, faster, be perfect!
For some, this is equal to a creative reject

Life is really messy for the next generation
Faster, better, longer; utter frustration
Stress that will taunt and even hurt them
A messy loss of an antiseptic brain stem
Categories: connective, allusion, community, computer, confusion,
Form: Rhyme

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Alicia Keys

A star awoken, of dreams freely spoken 
All equipped – musicianship 
Unbound to conventional forms, to so adorn
A woman’s worth
Au naturel
Transcendence of thought, unveiled soul
Of tears, of joy
F
A
L
L
I
N
Classical calling 
A dazzling butterfly, hearts identify 
Live on stage, delivered diary 
A poetic page, with essence to free
A monumental flow of harmony 
Unique individuality 

A universal language, a mindful connective 
Emotional growth, inner introspective 
Live and unplugged 
With all that jazz
Rhythm refiner, songs in A Minor
A unique find, true state of mind 
Motivational strive 
Such inner drive
The extraordinary, piano mastery
Musical milestone, a class of her own 
I
C
O
N
I
C
Artistry, scale significantly 
Chord composition, resounding fruition 
Of passion – piano, vocal poetess 
Authentic standard, of no less 

Written by Geraldine Taylor ©?
Categories: connective, celebrity,
Form: Shape

Premium Member The Ego of Democrats

What we create we have tendency
to love – even our failures – nurturing
children representing a nation's moral decline – 

Too often binding ourselves to the lesser
characteristics of human nature – ego
is a two-way street: it is the connective
tissue forming a cooperative society, while
also a path for degradation, presently
being trans-versed to divide and conquer
for Totalitarian Rule –
© Joe Dimino  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: connective, evil, introspection, leadership, philosophy,
Form: Free verse

Sex, Sweat and Perfume

Sex,sweat and perfume
Still consume this room
The sheets washed a thousand times
Yet laced with our swansong

I lay on pillows new
But just like morning dew
As droplets of us are evaporating 
I'm left...with all the aromas...and envisage what they bring

But there's nothing left to anticipate 
A swansong heard now on death we await
To feel your lips upon mine one last time
Delicately parted by my tongue

My muse...my Alice Prin
Who brings forth unadulterated sin!
For the amount of canvases who have felt my strokes some may deem me amateur
Yet through constant connective awareness,readdressing and adjusting minute details
I have intensified my masterstroke so i fill the canvas and it swells to produce
Cream of the Crop

They said love conquers all
To believe that are you a fool?
To be questioned on passion, lust and love coexisting?
A question only asked by those still searching!!

For I won't settle for anything less

X
© Ben Massey  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: connective, break up, devotion, goodbye,
Form: Free verse


Premium Member The Enigmatic Middle C

The Enigmatic Middle C
                                          by Odin Roark

How lonely
Might that in between place be,
Where water from trickle beginnings
Modulates into wakes,
The upward span,
Then downward stretch,
Forging through minor and major choices,
Embracing half tones of engagement,
Carrying a merging forth of discovery,
Becoming a torrent
Containing both high
And low resonance,
Searching connective tremolos for oneness,
Finding innocence too must give way
As sensory reaches beyond comprehension,
Where the journey to ascending chance,
Converges proudly with the crescendo of eternity’s unsolved mystery.

And then there comes the uncovering…

This state of mind where new lessons to be learned
Conjoin this forever gathering of cosmic virility,
Where energy’s often dissonant questions
Start from ancestral middle fulcrums,
Branching its reach beyond scale,
Dancing with lightness of weight,
Tip-toeing upon the notes of power
Into cautious voices forging ahead,
Always remaining of purpose,
Yet often clashing as contrapuntal mistakes.

A child might hear the echo,
As octaves of like innocence reaching skyward
Enjoin rising fathoms from below,
Becoming one in harmony.

Such is the improvisation of life’s exploration,
Searching for tomorrow’s final chorus,
Where one’s once center being,
Youth’s springboard arch,
Finally becomes the never ending center
Of perpetuity’s orchestral gift,
That striving to live what life can be,
And then what it might become,
That spanning far beyond yesteryear’s Middle C,
Where the measured spans of equidistance
Ascend the borderless boundaries of one’s inner-self.
© Odin Roark  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: connective, music, philosophy,
Form: Prose Poetry

Between the Lines

the darkness crowds the pit the void the connective tissue so
tenebrous so fluid the glimpses the moments of eternity
focusing on the center everywhere the circumference is nowhere
there is no relative space or conjunctive time the hallway
the staircase circles spirals infinite rotations the wheel
and WHOA! prepare for the worst crying laughing
learning dying reacting subtracting the fluid the membrane
so tenebrous so fluid the glimpses the moments of eternity
inside the circumference we're all the center the influx the pit the void
Categories: connective, art, imagination, life,
Form: Blank verse

Retrospective Relevance

RETROSPECTIVE RELEVANCE

Relentless search for relevance
Reflective selective reassurance
Rationalize elective rehashing
Relentless search for relevance

Regenerating nostalgic recall
Reminiscing connective reclaim
Reconciling corrective record
Relentless search for relevance

Radical projective refusal
Reluctance infective reclusive
Regarding objective regain
Relentless search for relevance

Ramify detective recall
Reason affective release
Recover prospective radar
Relentless search for relevance





Copyright© April2013—Kim van Breda
Categories: connective, identity,
Form: Alliteration

Tiny, But Effective

Faith is the tethered ball on the play park
Tiny, but effective 
Serving its ultimate purpose day in and day out 
Faith is the connective tissue 
The bond that controls the domino effect 
A gamble with the possibility of winning big 
The ball bounces uncontrollably,
But has never met the likes of the bottom 
Tiny but effective
Categories: connective, care, city, good morning,
Form: Free verse

Sands of Renewal

I have been a sieve bucket
Of shiny plastic parts,
Containing reasonable sands of logic, time and place-
Drastically mixed with the fluidity of natural human race,
And oddly and inconveniently, a subspace
For an awkwardly large heart.

Why has its energy, connective and warm, 
Imploded my zone of comfort? 
Its vibrations teemed my walls, exploited my woes
Which till now have composed me quite conveniently
In perfect shell form?

I have molded realities into peaks and castles, 
Beautiful for a brief moment as life’s own art,
Yet crumbling too soon into shackles-
The sand’s plans (though well intentioned) 
Never seem to properly span across
This aforementioned large heart?

I have ignored its pulsing cries of recognition, 
Smashed its value to the depths of nothingness
To breach partitions of Universal fate’s recipe 
For flow and season in forced perfection;
Yet muddied and worn, wretched and torn,
It still giggles and glows-
Defying all logical reason.

In anguish I have begged, dear heart, for disintegration!
Why do you lay idle in seeming nonchalance?
Why have you not flooded these holes of my soul 
And flowed out to which creation compels me?

Will Love and light ever overflow my muddy plastic half?
I smugly wait and listen in demand of a response!

A few beats, a laugh.

You shine upon me for a quiet moment, wretchedly glistening.
Have I dared to set aside my fear and gain the courage to finally listen?
The message you have needed to convey
Resonates to me quietly,
In recognition of my soul’s ambition:
“Why don’t you merely give me away?”

A simple response, I answer in action (in giving to you, my true):
For I begin building my fate only from today;
Creating with purpose and satisfaction, 
Eternally anew.
Categories: connective, devotion, faith, inspirational, introspection,
Form: Free verse

Storm's Abeyance

It was a righteous hit and the silky smooth euphoric familiar feeling was racing through her veins to her encephalon.

It was an energetic stimulation to her central nervous system.

Her whole body fell back onto the foul-smelling and heavily stained mattress.

Her mind slumped into oblivion.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

The last thing she remembers seeing was a vivid shadow.
A shadow of a housefly on the ceiling.
It appeared to be eating something.

Through a purple haze, she wonders about the filthy creature.
In nonsensical supposition, she could feel the beastly fly attack.
Scissoring meticulously against the flesh of her forehead.
Scissoring against the hard connective tissue of her skull.
Systematically and relentlessly thrusting its cutting blades.
Regurgitating its vile acid fluid onto the soft tissue of her cerebrum.

Imaginable pain and reverberation of the piercing sound were consistent.
And then, the morning light faded.
She saw luminous colors of red, yellow, and different shades of blue, like cyan and turquoise.
She felt her body floating around in a large kaleidoscope.




copyright 2016 Torsional Storm
Categories: connective, addiction,
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Tears

Why weep so easily in old age?
Vulnerable to memory that thins
No substance,
A sparse waterfall
             like draped silk on bony shoulders

We need reminding about what to celebrate
                                      what is safe
                                      what has vanished

Thoughts, unmoored by time, meander like smoke from a mosquito coil
                                                                toxic trailings
                                                                wafting scent
                                                                death waiting

Mind puzzles that have no solution
No connective tissue to certainty
Constrained by feeling soiled in one's own skin
Dulled by the familiarity of waste

Long lasting space debris between two ears of grey reasoning,
                                               unable to tell what's coming next
The beautiful agony of labored movement 
                                               that can't stop fighting the current
To savour bits of light, forever closing in
This feeling of entering history in the narrow arc of night

Mortality swirls on the horizon,
                 changes all calculations,
As tears of glass
                 bead on white plaster skin.













Poem composed: March 2020
(revised: March 27, 2021)
Categories: connective, age, emotions, goodbye, grandfather,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member A Penny For Your Thoughts

A

Saying that's been around forever
Where it came from I haven't a clue
There's many phrases just like this one 
So familiar to both me and you

PENNY

Is a word not heard much these days
Its value's much less than a cent
We used to get a big bag full of candy
At the store it was a big event

FOR

Many years its value has decreased
There's a rumour they'll not longer exist
Where's this technological age leading us
The good old days I so dearly miss

YOUR

Thoughts are probably, what an old geezer
He can't keep up with the times
But us old guys lived a much simpler life
For those good old days we still pine

THOUGHTS

Of sodas, ice cream and lollipops
Linger in the depth of our being
Tears can be seen trickling down our cheeks
A sad but so joyous a feeling

©Jack Ellison 2012


A poetic style I call CONNECTIVE QUATRAIN HEADERS
Many thanks to Connie Marcum Wong for her help and inspiration.
Categories: connective, nostalgia, old, old,
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member Magic Elixir

There is a magic elixir
With secret healing powers
Throughout this big wide world
It is ingested every hour

This elixir is not costly
Is available for all and sundry 
From every walk of life or culture
In both hot or cold countries

It calms the nerves and aids the sick
Gives comfort when lonely or afraid
Cheers the sad or unhappy souls
Helps keep troubles and woes at bay

Brings a sense of normality
When all has gone astray
Rationalises situations 
To make it feel “Ok”

It can help relax in a social situation
Creating a connective atmosphere 
Is cheered in celebration 
Way back from yesteryear 

It is available in various colours
Like black ,white, green
Can be weak, strong, bitter or sweet
Hot , cold or anywhere in between

You can consume  it from many a vessel
It has many a different name
Enjoyed by both young and old
From its benefits all will gain

So ,wherever you are
Or whoever you may be
It’s time to pop the kettle on
“And have a cup of tea”!
© Deb M   Create an image from this poem.
Categories: connective, mystery,
Form: Rhyme
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