Best Constitutes Poems
No flame within!
do I hold for you
no delightful delicacy
shall I put to rhyme.
No picturesque words
in italics of your
woeful wildlife, no
acknowledgement of
the ancient mariner, he
that crossed the margin
of our “Atlas of the world.”
(Still in use, [I believe] in the
old stone museum.)
One can easily live in fear
of your many mordant moods,
to see you capture the
embracing horizon, where warring
clouds fondle the sunlight,
and the departing QE 2 is
reduced to microcosm.
How can one live in awe of
you, when at the end of each
day you snatch at the light of
sustenance, therefore
giving license to the veil
of damnation, soon to be cast
out of the east, driving impending
fears to languish upon the
unholy waters of the Styx?
(An extraction of the mind,
an evaporation of the memory
the spray dried brain
tossed into oblivion.)
Yet each morning an
interval to one’s ongoing
nightmare, when with renewed
levitation, the new light reprieved!
Begins avidly it’s universal
journey across Manukau’s
“Pack ‘n’ Save” Car park.
Oh yes! It is so easy to hate you;
you that brought the rest of
the world here, you that constitutes
a world within a world, that,
where the cycle of life creates it’s
own constitution, each player
judged on cue, to become an act of
fodder, mobile supermarkets
in ferocious competition with
nothing at all to give.
“Unless death itself is a gift!”
Upon the surface your
treachery still lingers, there,
tenacious tentacles lurk
within the sedulous surf,
groping blindly at sedated
rocks, those pinnacles of sanctuary
that harbour the weary,
support the rod.
Only when gravitation truly
intervenes, does the perpetual
invasion subside, leaving one in
no doubt about your promiscuity!
© Harry J Horsman 1993
Categories:
constitutes, angst, light, world,
Form:
Free verse
My sister says
my father was a good man --
but, how should I,
who never "knew" him
(except as a far-from-good man)
buy her stories?
Am I, the last child
of that union,
too, too judgmental?
Too far removed in time from
what she knew
and now recalls?
My memory is of a different man,
who died when I was twenty-two:
one rarely present, never talking,
often jailed,
unsupportive --
someone I really never knew.
He was no bearer of familial tales,
no imparter of the history
now I only wish I'd heard...
Obviously, I differ from my sister
about what constitutes a good man.
He never seemed to feel that he
needed to provide basics --
food, shelter, clothing, health care --
to his offspring -- and he almost never did......
I do remember how he staggered
on the street,
fell off of curbs,
sought shelter
and often could be found
asleep -- or at least
stretched out unconscious --
in some vacant lot;
how he foraged
frenziedly
about for beer,
or only Gallo muscatel
(thirty-five cents for the flask).
Should I not ask
what makes my sister think
I could remember him as does she?
In such a different light?
As victim,
and maligned
by inlaws or by circumstance?
All I know is what I do remember,
what I survived
when she and others,
grown, were gone.
I do not think
that I can accept
or change
(nor in absentia, forgive) --
and, no, I do not yet
believe
what my sister says.
Categories:
constitutes, absence, addiction, anger, bereavement,
Form:
Free verse
She said, if I correctly recall,
That, for her, a sustaining love is an
Absolute prerequisite for what
Would be a total commitment of the
Coupling bodies...and all that
Constitutes the essential parts of the
Eternal Soul;
And I not so assuredly competent
In this - the practice of such a higher
Art!
Adding, some little time later, that
Being so chained, in what she described
As an unfortunate consequence of a
Most regrettable thrall,
To a domineering Harlequin who,
When mindlessly exercising the upper
Whip hand, had neither modest restraint
Or any amount of unimpassioned
Self-control,
Was, in fact, just a flagrant excuse
For a base lust;
Of course this was not to be confused
With the laudable and gallant actions
Conceived within the inner workings
Of a steadfast and more openly honest
Heart.
And was I convinced that I was indeed
Sincere in all my avowed pledges?
And did I truly understand that all her
Troubled life she had tirelessly
Searched for one such as I purported
To, somehow, seemingly be?
How I instantly can bring to mind
Those obscure and doubting mutterings...
Still carrying upon an ill wind I
Should not wonder;
I think of them like the songs of the
Naiads: what woefully remaining
Sounding endlessly above the glassy
Tinkling of a mystical lakeside's
Stiffened and shuffling Sedges;
You a modern-day Danae, infant Perseus
Clutched to your swollen breast, your
Little box, in all its abject
Loneliness, now set adrift upon some
Desolate and open sea.
What turned out, in the end, to be a
Pointless charade. Perhaps; but that
Which, despite shortening periods, whilst
Enduring felt almost timeless.
Then of course this shared guilt...
That will, shamefully I fear,
Forever bind us.
Categories:
constitutes, destiny, relationship,
Form:
Rhyme
A future world rule by Trillionaires and Billionaires
Each country with segments of puppet regime governments,
With exceptions of course,
The drug lords the cartel those with the power
And the glory to hold what they consider theirs,
They will be the enemy, and will be a constant
Thorn in the side of the establishment.
A world where every citizen registered
At birth and death, as always, the way,
Now a blink in the cell of a hand device,
Where to veer off, constitutes a written warning
Threatening one’s employment a system
Of points and reviews. Twenty years of age,
One is introduced to a multitude of choice,
Law enforcement, United Nations, battle hard platoon,
Ablutions cleaners, Spies and Reapers, alas,
Those over educated with self-righteousness
Seen as a threat, with re-education, to aid
Choose the right path. The system will know
And will have its way, even woke, on a long chain
Will have its day, when only one-sided opinions
Are set in law, therefore, easy to dictate the terms
Of one’s life. Yet if to conform, there will be no
Slippery slopes, humans, like colonies of ants, their purpose
Granted from the throne of insatiable grandeur,
Childhood once a foundation, where one found happiness,
Education now the way to the day of recognition.
If by chance, to live with one’s flexible opinions,
Those that somehow bypass, the system, will become
The hunted until ridiculed, outlawed, then to wither
As autumn leaves, windblown proud foliage will decay,
When minds forced to cast out truthful innuendoes,
Those, embedded in hearts and minds of fallible man, his ideal’s
Firmly fixed, of earthly struggles. Once weaken,
A blend within the unwelcoming stigma of standard deviation,
Those making policy from man’s inconsequential plight,
To decompose, the humus of society to clutter the gutter,
Until the arrival of the Street Cleaners!
© Harry J Horsman 2023
Categories:
constitutes, social, society,
Form:
Free verse
Here’s a bunch of Gobble-de-Gook
There is no sense or reason
I just threw together some stuff I read
Which constitutes poetic treason!
Here’s a fact about knowledge and wisdom
A fact which I know is valid
Knowledge is knowing a Tomato’s a fruit
Wisdom- not putting it in a Fruit Salad!
Another fact I’d like to relate
Pay attention if you please
The early bird gets the worm
But the second mouse gets the cheese!
Another vision that I had
I know may sound bizarre
Going to church don’t make you a Christian
Nor standing in a garage won’t make you a car!
If you need cash here’s some advice
I hope that you will heed it
A bank will surely loan you some
If you can prove that you don’t need it!
Elections are a funny thing
Our choices are quite shifty
For president we choose from two
Miss America from fifty!
When faced with a payback decision
Be careful what you choose
When tempted to fight fire-with-fire
Remember water is what Firemen use.
Someone posed a question once
I admit now that I smiled
If we all learn from our mistakes
Why do people have more than one child?
Categories:
constitutes, funny
Form:
Rhyme
courtesy of management in general
and particularly Jackie Geiger
assistant property agent.
One benefit living social
at Highland Manor Apartments
until decrepit and bent...
constitutes qualifying for reimbursement
direct deposited into checking
as chump change event,
hence one generic grateful gent
feels self satisfied as Clark Kent.
After broken wing and prayer
granted courtesy The Flying Tigers
at long last located valuable information
issued December of each year
surprisingly enough exactly where
social security (2021) 1099 form
remained untouched, I swear,
yet earlier yesterday April 5th, 2022
at 1500 hours though very near,
and finally located necessary documentation
(think rental rebate) here
with unexpected discovery
birthed following poem aware
many if not all avid readers
will not care, nor give rat's a$$
regarding humdrum minor dilemma
involving one bonafide
*****sapiens merely
bruising himself – common Joe
garden variety generic biomass,
nonetheless, he fetes, lauds, tauts...
rental rebate tantamount
approximating financial reimbursement
without being unduly crass.
Thus reasonable rhyme
yours truly doth aire
without stut... stut...
stuttering, yet no guarantee
wordsworth their weight
in gold will ring clear
more likely receive
frosty reception everywhere
across world wide web,
perhaps with unwelcome glare,
yet profuse apology
if man with wit - me,
(i.e. Whitman) didst unwittingly interfere
with unwanted distraction
courtesy bobbing square
pants donned sponge
soaking up precious time (yours)
foolish longfellow rushing in where
one capricorn long since wed
not nsync, but alone,
cuz angels fear to tread
"quod erat demonstrandum"
forgotten Latin accessed
at least once year
when yours truly crafts poetry
more familiarly recognized as Q.E.D.
(shares close pronunciation
with ska quid word)
ditch costs extra nay saying
horse sense according to Ned,
whoop sorry, I meant mister Ed.
Categories:
constitutes, appreciation, april, blessing, celebration,
Form:
Rhyme
Nothing mortal or tangible lasts forever
but nature's rules don't apply to the soul;
at death, all bonds between mortal and immortal, sever
and your spirit constitutes the whole.
Your concept of heaven will manifest
and you will feel you are loved and blessed
fulfilling all that the scriptures suggest.
Your soul hopes to find a merciful, forgiving God
and you pray He isn't merely a fraud;
for only He can judge whether you're broken or flawed.
There is no way of knowing for sure, none whatsoever
but if you are truly repentant of your sins, don't dread the toll;
God already loves you; it doesn't matter if you are stupid or clever
all that your soul will be feeling... is awed.
(Fragmented Rhyme)
5/24/2019
Categories:
constitutes, 10th grade, anxiety, death,
Form:
Rhyme
Four walls form the framework
Of what constitutes a room
And from within these confines
You can make your life bloom
These four walls give you security
From harm they keep you safe
Within the room you feel wrapped
And gain a sense of faith
So much there is this room can encourage
Thoughts and ideas with infinite possibilities
Leaving the space of the room and venturing out
Enables the chance to display ones' capabilities
Within the four walls so much growth can take place
So many things you can learn
It is said that knowledge is power
And with that power your life you can turn
Think not of your surroundings
As only four straight walls
Instead embrace and feel their support
Without them we'd struggle and fall
Categories:
constitutes, home,
Form:
Rhyme
The world, a place dreamt perfect, orderly and friendly
Graced and paced, hospitable to both brave and cowardly
The timid forced turgid, the brave at times feeble and shake
At the forces from the four poles, leaving their lives at stake
The tell tale of the noble as the only capable to cope forces all
To quickly mutate into beings that can conquer and hell in stroll
You and I, apostles stemmed on great doctrine that constitutes
Making the world better and better, indorsing the ancient platitudes
We`re awed and perplexed by perspective of the world depending
On the side that we fall, the pessimist or unrelenting
With every rise of the sun, a chance to choreography
And perfect authentic living, whether it ends in tidings or catastrophe
As the light dims every day, conscience deems us gutless or valiant
Therefore with every breathe, comes an effort for a man to prove gallant
Categories:
constitutes, deep, planet,
Form:
Sonnet
Some say don't fear while others fret
On all of the happenings
We've struck a match to our past
"Now the house we've built is burning"
Our forefathers built with blood, sweat, and tears
The foundation we have here
Well into two hundred years
"What lessons are we learning"
The contract in which they wrote down
Constitutes sacred ground
Flick the Bic and burn it down
"Not worried over who we're hurting"
Generations yet to come
What will we be teaching them
That hard work makes great kindling
"Does anyone else find that disturbing"
Overtime it was bound to run its course
Now we know why Miss Liberty carries a torch
We tossed a molotov cocktail onto our own front porch
"Now the house we've built is burning
Categories:
constitutes, america,
Form:
Rhyme
I think that I may never see a
tree's sounds lovely as onomatopoeia
to see, to hear, just too profound
sound beats cool on worded ground
ain't it funny to hear a word
that IS what it is, coolly absurd
you may ask what constitutes onomatopoeia
can't say exactly, but hear it when I see it
© Goode Guy 2014-01-03
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Onomatopoeia
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joyce_Kilmer
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ogden_Nash
Categories:
constitutes, analogy, humor, imagery, onomatopoeia,
Form:
Couplet
I'll softly sing a lullaby this night
Sadly howling at a mournful moon.
Be still my heart of grieving blight
The perfect dawn is coming soon.
I'll light a candle in the dark
A yellow beacon of despair.
One by one the stars I'll mark
For rosy dawn in hope prepare.
Sail softly over these stormy seas
Silver tinted the soapy waterways.
Be still my heart of searing memories
The promise of dawn brings better days.
Don't rock the boat in foamy wake
Hold tight onto rudders of grief.
Be still my heart in Sorrows Lake
The perfect dawn will bring relief.
Quite a while back a fellow poet was quite vocal as to what constitutes bad poetry, giving
numerous examples. The above poem contains many of these examples, trying to prove that
one man's trash, could very well be another man's poem. Let's stir the soup.
Categories:
constitutes, hope, introspection, sadheart, heart,
Form:
Rhyme
"Don’t try to drag me into Oz
It will never work
I’ll kill the Munchkins and the witch
I swear I’ll go berserk"
--From "Malice In Wonderland" by Joyce Rugg
The scandal behind us,
We look to break through
To a new dimension.
The mind folds inward
leaving creases.
The mind lives inside the the brain—
A large surface if all spread out.
Neurons are agitated;
Glitches occur.
Events spew forth like comets,
And the mind reels.
Mistakes are made like pudding.
Upon a moment’s notice
Some file is missing.
Something in the wiring has
shorted out.
Evil come, evil go.
Evil marches to and fro.
*In Hinduism, and in particular Jnana Yoga and Advaita Vedanta, neti neti is a Sanskrit expression which means "not this, not this", or "neither this, nor that" It is found in the Upanishads and the Avadhuta Gita and constitutes an analytical meditation helping a person to understand the nature of Brahman by first understanding what is not Brahman. --Wikipedia
Categories:
constitutes, evil, , hinduism,
Form:
Free verse
A
question
that
never
slumbers
to the end
of hour,
is love exchanging views with
that of why. For both are
never ending, and never
ending are the pupils standing
seamlessly upon an exampled
tulip celebrated and cherished
known to man as female. A
female of whom among us
constitutes as God’s monumental
gift. Oh how thy sleep soundly
in the midst of her pedestals,
breathing in oxygen as
dehydration metamorphose
to liquid tears and unrehearsed
palpitation waltzes about thy
heart. Not even in the remotest
degree that today is of yesterday.
For whom to have known that two
visitors would
long to be
lovers of
love to
the extent
now
being
in
love.
Pace INK-U-SCRIPT
03-06-2013
Categories:
constitutes, life, love, love,
Form:
Free verse
Qualitative’s Quantitative Dilemma
by Odin Roark
Numbers in checkers
Numbers in chess
Thinking beyond 2 + 2 = 4
Knowing 2 & 2
Portends extension
Invites the mind to ponder
Knowing a concluded 4
Indubitably finite
And so it goes
This constant tug-of-war
Placing the challenging value of quality
Against the easier calculated quantity
Like the riches of a fairytale ruler
Versus the needs-fulfilled of the provincial
One wallows in numbers for counting
While the other sees their every move
That of thinking through what constitutes
The next hour’s harvest of nourishment
Who is with the fear of losing?
The burden of fright?
Who smiles trustingly on patience?
The gift of nurturing?
If life were a board game
Which terrain would you choose?
That of hop skip and jump
The plundering of any spoils within reach
Or that which demands careful decision
Where precise positioning of tomorrow
May continue to provide all one needs
While protecting all worth dying for
That stealth-like foreshadowing gift
Answering one of history’s
Exhaustive conundrums
Must quality of long-term goals
Always be threatened by
Quantity of short-term rewards?
Categories:
constitutes, philosophy,
Form:
Free verse