Best Curvilinear Poems
In the old days
castles were built from sturdy solid rock
with arrow loops for arrow protection
and curvilinear structures irregular to the eye.
They were built with survival in mind
appearing uniform grey from a distance
but up close like a monument of
mosaic humble rocks.
Castles were built to outlast civilization
Protectors of ancient people they were a safe shelter,
crowning the landscape with their touch of old charm.
Castles only crumbled when it was their time.
the heart of humankind is built like a fortress
it is a military historian that never lets it guard down
it serves and protects without counting the cost.
So, are we castles or are we crumbling rocks ?
Stingray cutting deep murky lines
Curvilinear through the ocean
By Robb A. Kopp
After a short run
The road takes a diversion :
A curvilinear path.
Throwing a long lush green shadow,
The woods devoid of sorrows
Invites the heavy down power.
I peep into my heart
Behold a guy of five-six years old
Collecting withered Sheuli flowers
A paper-boat floats on the rivulet of rain water.
I startle to see
The boyhood days is still kept
On the self of my mind
Swings Oleander
In your ears – a pair of beautiful ear-rings.
As I’m walking along this road
All that we enjoyed,
All that we felt.
During our salad days
When we were swimming
In the Whirlpool of love,
All that takes the shape of Cyclonic storm
Approach all of a sudden,
Falls on the land of frustration:
You were one day sitting under the shadows
Of prop roots of past – thy age-old banyan tree.
Within an eye-wink staying
You filled my heart
With horripilation of spring
I am enraptured.
Thousand clouds float across my sky of despair
I see
An Oasis on rugged desert !
I crossed
The woods devoid of sorrows
Kept the sportive land far away back.
Now I’ve kept my sturdy feet
On the moor of unknown herbs.
I am encircled by the realm of Orchids
I imprison the mountain
The woods, the known-unknown flowers
In the camera of my curious eyes!
I forget myself, my soul
Forgets my existence.
In the current of magnificent colors
Me-thinks, you have come
Floats on my heart as Sheuli flower
Flows as if impulse in my nerve
Plays hide and seek in my blood!
After a short run
You take a diversion
Leave me for good
You’ve forgot me.
The Sheuli flowers, the paper-boat
The woods devoid of sorrows-all lost!
Picked-up Sheuli flowers of boyhood days
All that I try to recollect
Now pictures on the walls of your prejudice!
They swing as if they’re worthless calendars!!
You have already crossed
The shadows of prop-roots
Of that ancient banyan tree
I am spell-bound!
I am snared into an illusion of colored Orchid:
dance …
dance, the dragon
I watch intently, as if it taunts me
your perfect calf, its tattooed home
gams surround you on the
dance floor like a forest of velvet flesh
hopping, darting, spinning …
the small hummingbird on your
other ankle flutters -
as if in a constant bid to
escape the fire-breathing specter that
clings fiercely to the gentle slope
of your opposite foreleg
golden eyes afire …
I sit this one out
but I'm enthralled by your solo -
unconcerned with the
crowd of couples about you
your slender arms meet like swan necks
entwining in a love rite ...
hips in a forth-and-back cadence -
hypnotizing me as your
ruffled hem swishes … swishes … swishes …
curvilinear body alive with
spicy voltaic motion -
eyes closed to the pounding
prismatic pulse of colored lights and
seething subwoofers …
you move slowly ...
tender and deliberate
yet intense …
innately sensual, though you are unaware
your naive charm and innocence
are the blades that slay me
all the while the dragon chases …
the bird bounces and flits …
and I sip my Milagro Select like a
long-forgotten lover -
dreaming of the perfectly plump
pink-painted piggies ...
wriggling playfully inside ...
your favorite night shoes.
It exists firmly in the realm of fiction,
Where time travel is bantered back and forth.
While allowing no control or direction, it might
Easily end up East or West, or down South or even North.
As a dimension, science is fully supportive,
Since Einstein formed the merger to those of space.
Bringing gravity along to bend it further, so
It's curvilinear, not just straight to retrace.
Here the mind seeks to warp the curvature,
When the math becomes circular in the end.
This leads to the question as to whether,
We can seek the past or the future, when we spend.
Mankind's journey is of endless curiosity as
We seek to understand our place in the universe.
Through this exploration, we come up on the theoretical,
That blends with hypothetical paradoxes to disperse.
The essence of time will be continually pursued,
By wondrous minds in physics and beyond.
One can only hope that our imagination shows wisdom,
And we don't breach the fictional boundary as a vagabond.
stretch artist, A. Modigliani amplifies
sketching curvilinear bodies, weak eyes
his far-fetching figures still mystify us
despite his premature death to meningitis.
May 10, 2022
Doors are closed
Doors are closed, windows are closed,
The vessels know the noise they have
And I enter into the suspection of dreams
That sometimes cover the bouquet of my brain cells
with enthusiasm and thrill unknown
Decrease the moments
So dear they speak
Not only do we freeze the signatures of pleasure with the glory of our own songs…
Say those unworthy jars squarish curvilinear.
Wow, the exuberance of wisdom so alone I see
And get my precious mind wrap its disease
Into the carpet of truthfulness and sensitivity.
Do not hide it from the happenings of today and tomorrow
Let it all swallow the stern smile so patchy on the wooden plank
And let the space utter the galaxy of short stories
Sparkling on the twinkling variety of stars wrapped in the beauty of the vacuum.
Talk about it,
Let the lost untold bounce once again on the transitory wall
Let not the waves gather into a lake
And let the freshness so maintained speak about the spring created first
in the first seconds of birth.
Rashmi Pitre.
copyright
Curvilinear
Basic element of art….
Moving point in space
By Robb A. Kopp
All Rights Reserved © MMX
It was 3AM I suppose, or to be precise
A complete hour of sleeplessness and
I was walking behind or rather following
The footsteps of that decrepit old body.
Her hoary head signified semaphores,
Illuminating and reflecting a way onward,
Onward to a curvilinear farness.
Her bent shuffled maneuvers were like
The surges of the tides that rise and
Culminate on the shore becoming arches
And while I was at the verge of losing myself
Amidst the labyrinth of her creased
And sagged skin
I realized that it was me.
It was kinesics with my distant aged self.
I just traveled
Through the furrowed copious vacuum
Of clairvoyance created in my mind.
~Nayanika Dey
From: India
Copyright ©: 6 July, 2016
37th Floor
Shiodome City Center
The Japanese Secretaries
Stand in unison
Upon my arrival
All for me
You shouldn’t have
But thank you
180 degree view of Tokyo
900 square miles
10 Million people
All walking in unison
To a tune I don’t understand
I will never understand
I stick out
Like blood on a white table cloth
Like a fly in a bowl of Miso
208 lbs of flesh
Meat and bone
MIAMI to Tokyo is 7500 miles
18 hours total flight time
Many tens of thousands will be spent
I will avoid rice
But by the end of the trip
I’ll be eating it by the handful
The Japanese business men surround me
All dressed the same
Blue blazer
Blue or white shirt
Loose tie
Round glasses
No identity
I’m in my Aviators
Dragons on my sleeve
Brown as from last weekend
A 3 day frat party
Vodka and Gatorade my libation
Judging bikini contests
Near the FLORIDA - Bama line
Now gazing into the
Deep blue waters of Tokyo Bay
The curvilinear slopes
Of the Rainbow Bridge
Remind me of her jaw line
The random gracefulness
Of the waves
Remind me of her gesticulations
Warm with desire
I plunge into the abyss
Hoping I’m buoyant
Transfixed on its dark coolness
Sliding into the breaks
Gasping for air
Serves no purpose
I’ve grown gills
Webbed toes
I call this home now
My motherland
For which I never knew
And can never un-know
Squatters’ rights do not
Exist in Maritime law
So slowly I sink
With a plastered smile
Flag in my hand
Searching for a sea floor
Which may not exist at all
Swooning in chorus to your rhapsodic tune
Your soothing Sonata crests to the billowy moon
Your animalistic rhythms o'er every truant part croon
Blithe melody softly careening over every pallid dune
Bass drum taps lightly; milk flows from hardened paps so roon
Exploring in cadence each curvilinear line artfully hewn
Riding each stanza in your seething, swaying balloon
Coursing over each ripple in your silver shoon
Each crevice, crater my hands carefully prune
Sifting out silty pebbles with a sculptor's spoon
Dipping harmoniously into your deep ocean; gleeful loon
Ruddy ballast anchoring ship in your salty lagoon
Lighting
up the world,
trailing her veils
in curvilinear
patterns
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Loie_Fuller
The love of the curve
the slip, the slide, the drift,
the ride.
The road’s May West hip,
the wayward Marilynesque
crest of the mountain sides.
The curve of the moon,
the bun of the sun,
a toasted morning bride.
Arise, unfurl
like Shirley Temple’s curls
or the smoke from homes
where man bides.
The love of the curve
as in orbit we spin
or the proton nuclear ride.
Relax, slide, slip and unfurl
just come along for the ride!
Colors around a central axis
Curvilinear lines spiraling
By Robb A. Kopp
Something in her voice that had me tick
Curvilinear edges on her face
A smile that smiled
Lips that spoke charm
A face kindred to the moon
Her body screamed seduction
A goddess of attraction
Within proximity i couldn't function
She was perfectly perfect
His charm was the tipping point
Deep voice, fire in his eyes and a vocabulary marinated in "love"
words far reaching like a cupid's arrow to the core of my delicate heart
A definition that defined the marvel of creation
His intelligence was second to none
But our thoughts and imaginations
Fantasies and dreams
Could not manifest in the face of reality
We were but the opposite sides of the same coin
We fell in love with "an idea"