Best Demystify Poems
If I go to the library each day
and seek out the knowledge there on display,
reading all the newspapers come what may,
and listen to what others have to say?
Then, will I be wise?
If I let the children teach me their way,
drop my inhibitions, and learn to play;
and ask old folks before time slips away,
their secret to keeping doldrums at bay?
Then, will I be wise?
If I study nature's wondrous array
questioning space and the stars as they lay;
or unearth ancient pots made of clay,
recovering treasures of buried Pompeii?
Then, will I be wise?
If I demystify ancient Cathay,
deciphering riddles of yesterday,
and embrace all the prophets when I pray
absorbing all that their teachings relay?
Then, will I be wise?
If I condemn all wars, strife, and melee,
voicing my objections without delay;
upholding truths that I'll never betray,
finding the courage to walk from the fray?
Then, will I be wise?
Categories:
demystify, feelings, how i feel,
Form:
Rhyme
Each night I peruse the sky
Tilt my head way up high
Count the stars here and nigh
As if secrets to demystify
My heart it seeks to pacify
I search beyond each constellation
When sense in my heart primal agitation
And my pulse beats with acceleration
Because it’s there, the object of my aspiration
Right there before my eyes, my heart do console
I get to see you and talk to you as I stroll
Because I’ve recognized your essence, your soul
Larger than life, looking down on me, glory be
I still feel, though now angel-like, you embracing me
There is life after death, you are the Milky Way
Elated, I feel light and serene as a heavenly butterfly
Seek no further answers or dare question divination
Blissfully content to finally feel whole
Knowing you are here and there to perpetuity
Because there is life after death, you are the Milky Way
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on May 26, 2018 for SKY POETRY CONTEST sponsored by ANTHONY SLAUSEN - RANKED 5TH
Submitted on February 5, 2018 for MINUANETTA POETRY CONTEST sponsored by GREGORY BARDEN - RANKED 3RD
Categories:
demystify, death, father daughter, inspiration,
Form:
Rhyme
Window covered by a sycamore tree
Constant friend of my snowy Maple days.
Memories spring as insects on a tree
Turn my gloomy days in glorious days
Hippocrates got his inspiration
for search in medicine he began.
Buddh sat under it for meditation
and enlightenment of mind to attain.
Desdemona sat sighing under it
in agony to hear willow song treat.
Flying to Egypt Mary stopped a bit.
Crann ban “Money tree” in Irish spirit.
To demystify health, to personalize,
To me sycamore is to poetize.
+++
December 2, 2014
Form : Sonnet {Iambic Pentameter)
Dr. Ram Mehta
Sixth Place Win
Contest: Structured Forms by Georgio V. Venetto
Categories:
demystify, memory,
Form:
Sonnet
"To hold as 'twere, the mirror up to nature. " William Shakespeare," Hamlet 1601."
Window covered by a sycamore tree
Constant friend of my snowy Maple days
Memories spring as insects on a tree
Turn my gloomy days in glorious days
Hippocrates got his inspiration
For research in medicine to begin
Buddh sat under it for meditation
The enlightenment of mind to attain.
Desdemona sat sighing under it
In agony to hear willow song treat
Flying to Egypt Mary stopped a bit
Crann ban “Money tree” in Irish spirit
To demystify health, to personalize
To me sycamore is to poetize.
** The notion of a "mirror held up to nature" has been taken over for any mimetic theory of art — the idea that art should represent reality and nature as closely as possible**
+++++++
Revised and Reposted May 4, 2014
Form : Shakespearean sonnet in Pentameter
Dr.Ram Mehta
Contest: Shakespeare by Frank H.
=========================
Dr. Ram Mehta
Date: 4/19/2011
Fourth Place win in :
Contest:The Tree sponsored by Constance La france-A rambling poet
=========================
* I wrote a sonnet Maple Memories in 2000 while living in Windsor-ONT
and was posted on 6/29/2005 on PS as Maple Memories.
The present poem is re-written for the contest.
** Maple Days- Maple is the national tree of Canada.
* Buddha is pronounced one syllable
Categories:
demystify, inspiration, nature, tree,
Form:
Sonnet
Yours is a horrendous bother
I decode one side, you obfuscate another!
I twist and turn, twist and turn again
Fingers engrossed around your parts, another twist
extirpates the other side! My enthusiasm refuses to wane.
I warp your shifting visage, weave the obliterated wrist,
Only succeeding to dislodge several faces,
I continue defacing your six surfaces…
In my euphoric endeavors to somehow unwind,
The unfathomable thoughts in your wavering mind,
I take manifold cyclical turns, like a brisk walk in fog,
Your complex anonymity refuses to unclog!
My flirtatious advances, don’t inveigle your resolve?
Chances to demystify you, in vain I solve,
I stare at your complacent maze,
you’re smug, with a mystic gaze!
Still in downright disarray
my curiosity, undone by dismay,
You’re unfazed, as you obliviously recline
Further inquests, but you obstinately decline!
I scrupulously ingest your manual again,
And brace for another futile try,
Why am I so smitten, as if to ascertain
If afterward, you’ll still be awry!?
© Maverick Nyambu
Categories:
demystify, metaphor, symbolism,
Form:
Rhyme
( A Shakespearean Soonet - with 14 syllables- rhyming abab,cdcd,efef,gg)
My balcony was covered by a huge sycamore tree,
My constant companion during the snowy Maple days,
Memories come as insects around a flowering tree
Turning my gloomy days into that of glorious days.
First candid approach in medicine to initiate,
Hippocrates sat under sycamore tree to explain,
As Buddha sat under the Bodhi tree to meditate,
Nirvana or the enlightenment of mind to attain.
Father Cavanaugh aptly called it ‘The tree of vengeance’,
Othello’s Desdemona sat sighing by sycamore,
Flying to Egypt Virgin Mary rested under once,
Known to be as crann ban “money tree” in Iris folklore.
To demystify health care and known to personalize,
My sycamore exists to socialize and poetize.
=====================================
Fifth place winner in
Contest: Shakespearean or English Sonnet in honor of John freeman
Categories:
demystify, tree,
Form:
Sonnet
My balcony covered by a huge sycamore tree,
My constant companion of snowy Maple days,
Memories come as insects around flowering tree
Turning my gloomy days into glorious days.
The first candid approach in medicine to initiate,
Hippocrates sat under sycamore tree to explain,
As Budhha sat under the Bodhi tree to meditate,
Nirvana or the enlightenment of mind to attain.
Father Cavanaugh called it ‘The vengeance tree’,
Othello’s Desdemona sat sighing by a sycamore,
Flying to Egypt Virgin Mary rested under the tree,
Known as crann ban “money tree” in Iris folklore.
To demystify health care & known to personalize,
To me sycamore exists to socialize and to poetize.
==============================
Ninth Place win in Chris's contest
Categories:
demystify, tree,
Form:
Sonnet
From her lavished home
Into the body bag!
From the body bag
Into the cold freezing plant!
There is more to it
Than the freezing of beers
That's for you to hear!
She was beautiful
Or so,
She had thought to herself!
But not anymore!
The reason for her leaving
And the manner for it
Must be known!
He was called in.
And again she moved
But she knows not that she moves!
Now, she moves
From the freezer
Onto the bier
Into the green room!
But she wasn't aware!
How futile!
He came in
Clad all in green.
Down came the scalpel
Tearing her up
Like a butcher with his knife!
He pulled and tugged
At dead intestines
At rotting food remains
At the bloating liver
At the motionless eyes
At more and more!
Then he took samples.
Samples that will tell
Or even untell
The cause of death
Of this once-upon-a-time beauty.
Looking at the once
Privately private body
That was gaily covered
And that no one
Could anyhow intrude.
Looking at all before him
He knew
Again and again
As in all other ones
That we are living
In futility!
We are but wastes!
His job is to find
The causes of deaths
Of this body and many more
Before and after.
But he thought
For how long more
Will he do it?
He knows his will be done
Then his man pike
A grub would have become!
But when will it be done?
Lots of deaths
He had helped demystify
But what will kill him?
He knows not.
He only knows
That one sure day
The Pathologist
A stiff will become!
(An homage to Wole Soyinka. Born from the
poem: POST MORTEM)
Categories:
demystify, death
Form:
Blank verse
Sweet sugar lips
I miss your touch
Your sweet embrace
As much
Your kisses more than
Twice as much
Your loving twenty times
As much
You caring for the damned
Your struggle to demystify
Your battle with my storm
I'm better for it now
Your soft and gentle touch
To lift my weary soul
Onto a loving nest
Of tender feelings
Your kind and gentle heart
To love me to all end
And above all else
Your raving glory
Categories:
demystify, loneliness, lonely, lost love,
Form:
Ode
For everything there is a chosen time:
for everything, too, there is a season;
now in mid-life, and past my former prime,
I seek to probe life's heart, to draw reason
from its nub; and demystify its rhyme.
There's a time to live, and a time to die;
a time to be young, and a time to grow old;
there's time to be far, and time to be nigh;
a time to weep, and a time to feel joy.
But most of all, there is a time for Time:
for its fore-ordained length has a hidden purpose
that the Creator gives, a plan sublime
that must be sought beneath life's outward surface.
To plumb life's rhyme and reason, such great depth
demands time which devours a whole life's breadth.
Categories:
demystify, god, humanity, life, mystery,
Form:
Sonnet
I gobble up books of holiness
Hoping to find the clues to demystify this illusory mess
I do believe in my faith, to it I do swear abidance
I do believe in unity, in the fact that all holy doors lead to the same place
But I cannot help getting more and more puzzled about our world
Yes, the more I indulge in it, the more I find it as being so absurd
It seems not to care about our being
It seems to only wish to keep on revolving
See the dead bodies being buried in submissive grief
A sight it is, which does feel as cold as an autumnal shedding leaf
Time, in such a case, much needed and heeded
Is all that is left to hope to being healed
Autumn does give way to Winter
Winter does promise us all, the joys of Spring, the warmth of Summer
Similarly, our scars shall heal
Life, this world, of such, does readily will
But then, I like not life here
Amidst a sea of confusion does it steer
Confusion and un-mindfulness
See, it is bent on being even when it has struck us with distress
Such was how I felt
When I paused and wondered about those vines
Those vines growing on those headstones,
Those vines caring not about that which I lost
Everything has to come and go
I shall someday no more have a shadow
But life shall go on
Yes, on my headstone, life shall go on
On my headstone, life shall say in an uncaring voice
What's gone is meant to be forgotten
Look not at what lay behind
Rather, focus on what lies ahead!
25th September 2016
Contest: Overgrown with Vines
Sponsored by: Broken Wings
Categories:
demystify, death, life,
Form:
Rhyme
Honesty presides in these fresh sonnets
Where breathing seeks to set example
For future generations on thresholds
Of honest wit staying apt and ample
Poets questioning meaning in long life
While judging and evoking honesty
They hold themselves above impending strife
And espouse flamboyant ideas-majesty
Honesty leads the art of poetry
For a poem swallows up the reader
Engulfing him with central bardolatry
Wise words breathe an eternal breeder
If poets just stopped phony contrasting
Perhaps poems would thrive everlasting
How does a new poem live forever?
Let me count the ways poems purify
Through female free-form and virile villanelle
If only they knew to demystify
Poetry that writes to catch attention
He did not get from his early childhood
A quiet child worthy of mention
Whose poems represented brotherhood
Reactions of interconnectedness reign
Sultry sounds stream to entice sentiments
A hope that senses will linger the same
That baby poems do dance like Bacchants
That the earth-bard could only smash thoughts, too,
So his poem would dance dreamily inside you
From the heart blooms colorful rose bouquets
Surrounded, a sweet seizure flutters upright
In gushing, garrulous melodic phrase
Made to fit undying spiritual rite
Hearts merge and hands do as faint souls entreat
Fragments of glass in the chapel's skylight
Form and message merge on rustic countryseats
Bucolic grazing land's tearful twilight
Poetry overwhelms overt outcasts
On journeys into the poet's caves
A mysterious abyss of absinthe
Pathways crossing upward to vivid waves
Where, at last, souls meet to exchange nepenthe
That simply symbolizes completeness
In every illustrious, starry sweetness
Poetry is breath
To us bequeath!
Categories:
demystify, appreciation, poetry, poets, spiritual,
Form:
Sonnet
God
1 “whom he hath appointed heir of all things”,
2 “by whom also he made the worlds“,
3 ”Who being the brightness of his glory”,
4 “and the express image of his person”,
5 ”upholding all things by the word of his power”,
6 ”by himself purged our sins”,
7 ”sat down on the right hand of the Majesty on high“,
Hebrew 1;2-3
When you come to the inference by time,
where innocence marks its own maturity,
as questions seeks for answers,
when curiosity tantalizes obscurity,
with chronicles of gone bye years,
when reflections sends the beams to the mind,
and sparks congregates as reasons,
when conjectures forms a void within,
As you drift to that realm of confusion,
When the mind cannot withstand the torrents of thoughts,
When the world cannot find the compass of your being,
and to all you are dispirited in the ocean of life,
when petulant mutates to unseen rebellion,
when ominous canker and contortion hatched on vision
when you demystify evolution by superior argument,
and find the flaws of imposed science,
When you reach the borders of earth's vain.
Where mortality mocks your toils.
Sink your ship at His Cross,
Categories:
demystify, bible, creation, imagination, jesus,
Form:
Didactic
I'll demystify your philosophy
Anytime your perspective my bother me
Because you compartmentalize things
That are connected like Christmas lights on a string
All potential lies in the ability
To exercise stability and consistency
Which exemplifies what it is to be the Relentless type
I won't accept anything less than success if I fail
I'll keep doing it religiously until I get it right
I'm guaranteed to get your undivided attention
And I don't need to intensify my hostility
For you to recognize what I really mean
When I'm getting my point across
I've done it too many times
And I don't expect you guys to empathize
With things you ain't experiencing in your lives
if I can't make a plan that specifically fits the type
Of job I'm doing screw it I'll improvise
& eventually get the job done efficiently
Anything I'm attempting I aim for perfection nice
All lessons lie in the mistakes we've made
The greatest Impressions I've left
Were expressed best by my humility
Which was something they definitely didn't expect to find
When they visit me,
The only thing that stands the test of time
Is doing things your own way
Despite expectations thrown in your direction
I'd say they should all get declined upon inspection like
There nothing, So thanks for coming
Please look up & follow the red exit signs or something
Categories:
demystify, blessing, character, class, creation,
Form:
Rhyme
Travelling down the city,
Sceptical why a honour is feast upon!
My growing desire - an ecstasy to abyss
Quite an odd joy this parental care be ,
For its essence and canduor, I dare not mystify
Life, a mystique,
Dis chalice - mystique runs through!
Honour bestowed on an enigma,
Ecstasies rummaging the walls of prayer
for if chants be the spine of success,
Dis chalice be, then.
The worship of a chalice beats the gods,
The echo of a chalice demystify terrors apart!
For just like Jason in the Lost city - dear!
Opomulero's chalice - unending wave of clamour for mama's milk.
Opomulero's chalice - unending dance of marching grace!
Opomulero's chalice - the only Elephant Opomulero can't stand its absence for long,
Oriiriibobo, I salute the Chalice.
Categories:
demystify, celebration, cheer up, dedication,
Form:
Classicism