Best Discernible Poems
Blue words cry,
smearing bare
paper walls.
I am only this poem
to share.
Crimson lines
ironed, too perfect,
scratch romantic notions.
Sorrows brew.
Shush,
listen to
each whimper’s escape,
ink hurled at pages
not long ago blank. Bittersweet
sobs thunder -
cathartic storms impart
a verse to bridge hearts
over this deluge.
Words enchant, coax
from nostalgic dreams,
over and between
dusk and dawn’s enlightening.
I awaken weightless
adrift in lyrical seas.
When night returns
bruised, I lie
with incarnate spirits,
my midnight blue disguise.
A smile from cobalt eyes
speaks. Blues reach
like friends to beseech
my soul.
While my pen glistens through tears,
these starry hazels gaze
as livid-blues turn
cerulean. A poem breathes -
loose layers, discernible beauty, strength,
prayers answered. Wise,
I purge my pain
in letter’s curvaceous rise.
I rest in hollow
of spaces,
stolen tranquility.
For now, prisoners are released,
but oh, how I know
morning
tightens fear's hold.
When blues speak,
I'll seek
love, acceptance
and find my pen.
I’ll unlock my heart again.
May my poem birthed
remind in lonely hours
of my power,
my worth.
May light
fall
upon God’s poema.
Ink-stained, I am
one woman heard,
only blue words.
(200 words)
5/31/15
Categories:
discernible, feelings, introspection, words, writing,
Form:
Free verse
What’s In The Urn
Strangers offered me to join them in a drink
I met them on a mountain edge while skiing
They seemed like friendly normal people then
So what could happen in a simple cabin?
Finding that which is not there or vanquished
What is there that cannot be perceived?
Placed upon the mantel piece are ashes in the cabin
Brass vase, a receptacle for lost souls sits in repose
A death vase to glare at over cognac
By the sober flames cast by
A fire place glow observed in action
Liquid spirits pour out their poison
In the cozy living room inside the cabin
Drinks alone cannot remove this feeling of distraction
The urn is piercing through my soul
People belong in cemeteries you know
With all due respect for the dead
Scatter them at sea when they‘re deceased
Not paraded around in gloom to cause unease
Or as a center piece for living rooms
I’m not relieved to find it is a lizard on the shelf
To be exact, an exotic iguana family friend entombed
And to assume that fact makes this matter optimal
I beg to differ on that point and voice my opinion later
There must be a plot of ground outside
Or toilet somewhere to flush it down
But better left unsaid, as they are bereaved about the death
And I am their invited guest
Iguana tried consuming the family’s cat
Another favorite pet I guess
It is surmised, that’s how it met its end
Wound up expired inside the urn
The receptacle was there and going nowhere on its own
I swear it follows me from room to room
By embers glow and ash, shadowing my every move
A brass smile casting off the urn, leaving me concerned
I could not take my leave
The container followed me
So I waited, fixated on the thing
Is it coming back to life to eat more bugs or me?
Finding that which is not there
Is easier in the dark
Rising to the occasion of the day that breaks
I must escape the premises to continue skiing
Into the frozen world outside I fly
With no discernible signs or paths to lead or learn
I get away, no time to say good-byes or find my way
Never again will I say; what’s in the urn
Categories:
discernible, adventure, animal, anxiety, conflict,
Form:
Quatrain
These are the times you wish
you could pack it all up and be a kid again:
Take me away from the Now
and into the Then
(that's where I wish to descend)
Back when it was all so crystal clear-
just one emotion to steer the gears,
whether wafflewonder days
or weepywillow nights
(no nuance, no twilight)
Just perfect joys and poignant fears.
Happiness like butterflies-in-sunshine,
hopscotch-in-the-rain;
sadness a gray cloud to shut out the world
(the dust getting blown away, like autumn leaves,
from Monopoly)
The world was something to See.
Yourself someone to Be.
From the moment the eye closed
to the instant it opened...
... resurrection.
The monsters were beneath the bed, or in the closet--
(never once hiding in our reflection)
No possessions to speak of or concern us,
but we had Gold in our laugh,
a Sharpness to our gaze,
and a Sureness to our step,
from one emotion to the next
with no discernible causation.
"I am HERE!" shouted the feeling
without hesitation
(this, of course, the norm
before they gathered in committees
to make a sensible decision)
We were Fireflies--
sometimes on,
sometimes off ... but we always BURNED.
Didn't care a lick about the darkness
that grew weary of our light;
because we said what we meant
and meant what we said
(didn't hide from the Truth--
we were already free
to be Me,
to be You)
But the years soon passed as they so often do.
The adrenaline rush to adulthood finally came,
I can see it peak over the horizon
(...but I'm not Roller-coaster Ready...)
Yet here I descend into that maelstrom
where the colors twist and blur with every turn, jolting us here, jolting us
there
into that rickety reality,
reminding us our mortality
(Death just sitting there smiling that ancient fear)
We are all of us, strapped to the cart,
with nothing but our beating hearts.
And no one knows where it's going, but we're here.
Arms raised high until we die
(at least that's what my intuition is showing)
--
I now wave to the school bus
filled with adults-in-waiting
wishing I didn't know what I know
(someday soon,
perchance tomorrow, perchance the next,
that sunflower certainty
is sure to go)
"You're all too young
to not take in the sun.
Don't shed a tear,
enjoy it while it's here."
Categories:
discernible, childhood, confusion, deep, emotions,
Form:
Prose Poetry
My Pilot Light
In a hidden crevice
between soul and skin,
there is a flicker,
a tangerine flame
blazing through black abyss;
illuminating infinite veins of strength
that light like gun powder;
a thousand volts of survival
searing through my core.
There is a whisper in that flame,
ripples beyond discernible sound,
that directs me to take solace
in the unwavering knowledge
that my dreams are already realized,
waiting on life’s top shelf;
I have only to climb up and see
that they were never out of reach,
only temporarily out of sight.
I know this more securely
than I can be sure of anything else:
love, marriage, children,
are rolls of a roulette dice
that tumble around in a risky blur
chancing to settle on snake eyes,
but desire, aspiration, ambition and execution
are coordinates on my internal map
and I will never lose direction.
Spin all the cobwebs of doubt
that you believe can trap my will,
but what I have you can’t touch
or break, or steal, or burn out;
such is the radiance
of my inextinguishable flame
burning on a wick of passion,
feeding on a fuel of might,
and guaranteed to burn the hand
that comes too close
to touching
my pilot light.
Categories:
discernible, inspirational, introspection
Form:
Verse
Running, running, get away,
move aside! I can't stay!
Time is gone and I must go
hurry now, move too slow.
Heart is racing, pounding loud
press myself against the crowd.
Watching others hurry on,
ticking clock, move along.
Can't stop now I smell the fear
of those that stop and linger near.
Quickly, quickly, time to leave,
Father Time there's no reprieve.
Running, running, get away,
from my mind I cannot stray!
Eager thoughts that haunt my head,
every moment turned to dread.
From this prison, must escape
or leave to time my soul to rape!
Running rampant, eager thought
red streaked vision, can't be caught!
Heart is racing pounding loud
emotions seething, darkened shroud.
Mind will falter soon I know
melting dreams that ebb and flow.
Running, running, get away,
can't break free, must obey!
Vicious needs draw ever near,
fight I must against the fear.
Hands on me, the straps draw tighter
motionless I fight the niter.
Tightened crowd drawing closer
Leave me now, you saintly poser!
Help me not, no need to linger
take from me your putrid finger!
I can hear you softly speaking,
honey venom from lips leaking.
----------
"No outburst today Doctor, completely catatonic, although his eyes have begun to twitch rapidly like when he had the last one."
"Thank you, Nurse. I'll be careful."
"What do you think goes on in his sick little mind?"
"He has no regular or discernible brain waves, probably nothing at all... Broccoli."
"What?"
"He's a vegetable."
----------
Let me out, anger growing,
veins are pulsing, head exploding!
09/20/15
Dark & Twisted Contest-HM
Nathan D.
10/16/2015
Categories:
discernible, dark, psychological,
Form:
Couplet
Moonlight crying on white linen, fingering
lace curtains, glancing apprehensively
at distorted reflections peeping
through Waterford crystal
framed in silver,
a silence
almost apologetic
creeping through the room,
trying hard not to disturb
the softly sleeping gloom.
Melting gently through my bedroom wall,
wind chimes, barely heard
bamboo sighs,
Geisha
whispered words
that penetrate my sleep
with velvet promises from far away,
I feel their kiss upon my eyes
after the waking of the dawn
before the night wind dies.
Liquid noises scattered on the day
nudge my slumber, quietly
taking my hand,
waiting
for my eyes to see
through milky listed windows,
barely discernible visions,
fading remnants of the night
retreating shadows settled down
to sleep away the light...
Categories:
discernible, mystery, peace, time,
Form:
If I but had the basic raw nerve and wit
I would show a few folks how to do it:
“Write a line or two with good rhythm and rhyme”
On Poetry Soup, however, that would be a crime!
We have some folks who write marvelous gibberish
If I may say, but, of course, I’m being somewhat devilish;
On the other hand, I have tried to understand their verse
Reading them frequently, they’ve gotten worse and worse!
Interestingly, they are convinced they write like William Shakespeare,
But truth is, nothing about their poorly-written, so-called, poetry is clear,
Misspellings, poor syntax, and lack of a discernible theme
Well, now, they make me throw up my hands and scream!
May I suggest, if you are remotely caring, get up to speed
Please, take time to read some great master poets, indeed!
This is a poetry site, or so I have been led to believe
And, with effort, writing good lines is easy to achieve.
Tossing random words onto a page willy-nilly
And calling it poetry, is simply plain silly!
Written December 27, 2021
60th on Poetry Soup's BEST NEW POEMS LIST
January 26, 2022
Categories:
discernible, humorous, poetry, writing,
Form:
Couplet
Spaceward: genesis, obedience, fathomless: universe.
In Cerulean: lambent, sullen, discernible: Close ignite.
With harmony: hypaethral, skyward, aether: womb hiccups
Whelm time: serenade, stardust, drizzles: diamond dust,
Overall trends: extinguish, slumber, wonder: celestial hymn,
By extolling: Argyle, twinkle, soothing: miraculous rule
Alabaster Gypsum: portholes, peering, ogling: rain glints
Rubicund Jocund: ventral, sheqalim, vivid: lured stars
Exalt air: Blistering, bleeding, molting: Corolla collide
Orotund Moire: Kaleidoscopic, sentient, dusk: carnal life
Grab fistful: Dripping, purple, precipitation: Sunburnt sky
Dodging Venus: Flytrap, ill-wishers, pyramids: Shift astern.
This variation on sonnet XL1 to illustrate what Kuhlmann intended .
kuhlmann is a verse poem of two phrases interspered with three related monosyllabic stem- words(nouns,adjectives )with an integral title.The label and form is derived from the baroque poet Quirinus Kuhlmann's 50 sonnet
form Love-kiss XLI
Poem inspired by the sonnet penned by Brian Stand
Categories:
discernible, analogy, appreciation, sky, stars,
Form:
Sonnet
Damn it!
Crouching low on the ridge with Joseph and Rubin we see
that twenty horses or more are grazing with a group of Indians in the valley,
through the telescope two things are clear
the Indians are young Blackfeet braves
and they appear to be watching a curiosity in the same area that Drouillard is hunting in,
the battle sheilds on their horses have the fire arrow emblem of the Blackfeet,
there can be no doubt that more of them are in the vicinity
and Clark is at least 100 miles away on the Missouri,
the decision is simple in it's danger
we must ride down there before they attack Drouillard,
maybe a friendly meeting can be achieved,
Entering the open pasture on horseback
the three of us look like river bandits in a sunburned style,
their is a discernible panic amongst the Braves
as we approach them steady as a drumbeat
I get off my horse cool as Sunday news and walk a few yards with our flag in hand,
one of the youths breaks away towards me on his uncertain colt
I stand undaunted by the act of bravado and he steers the animal back to his posse,
Rubin and Joseph know what's up
and life and death have their breeze upon us,
respect introduces itself and brash violence is subdued by handshakes,
as evening invites the pipe, together we camp
the four of us, the eight of them,
we discuss the shifting balance of power on the Plains,
I inform them that there is a new eagle named America
and it will look over this territory with strength and justice,
they tell us about the English intrusion into the area, how furs are traded for guns and liquor,
these young Blackfeet don't seemed chagrined by the thunder of change,
J.A.B.
Categories:
discernible, adventure,
Form:
Epic
The Sieve of Time
Cast ashore,
along the banks of time,
whirling through the passing years,
clinging to my futile scribbles set in rhyme,
Cast ashore,
thrust into an unrehearsed pantomime,
clenching slivers of joy as weariness descends,
lulled into a peaceful slumber exhilaratingly sublime.
Cast ashore,
hazily adrift, a dandelion seed on the wings of time,
trapped in the sieve of spiralling memories,
caught between pristine bliss, and reeking slime.
Cast ashore,
flung aside for no discernible crime,
my human heart thuds with elusive hope,
though battered, bruised, and covered in grime,
I stagger ashore,
alone,
embracing each moment of detached, oblivious time.
Categories:
discernible, allegory, angst, beach, beautiful,
Form:
Finding poetry dull
and bored out my skull
(a wasted pun this early in the write)
listless and drained
knocked on my brain
to share with the voices my plight
The head voice, Jack
peeped through a crack
sighed: "Our host wants to visit, the pest
have we time to entertain
one who abandoned his brain
now sporting two brain cells at best?"
Much to my chagrin
loud snickers from within
"Pretty please, a word if I may?"
"No time to chat
we're celebrating, so scat
it's International Imagin'ry Friends Day."
Flo (soft on me)
her voice husky:
"Might as well tolerate the bore
besides", (giggle, giggle)
"I'm up for a wiggle
Nobody's lain me in two or more."
"Two years ago
or two months, Flo?"
"Nay, two hours of abstinence I'd had to survive
scarce opportunity
in this sparse community
to appease and keep a body alive."
As I stepped inside
shocked out my hide
my imaginaries had been on the breed
my tribe once twenty
upwards of seventy
all races and colors; no discernible creed
I stared transfixed
at the veritable mix
males and females, neuters too, mind
all shapes and shades
an entire brigade
a maelstrom of unhuman-kind
I stood aghast
jaw at half-mast
"Brood, your behavior is contemptuous
you've busily mated
but you're all related
your liaisons are highly incestuous."
"We're not blood-pumpers
we're merely humpers
products of inane fabrication
and furthermore
you first-class bore
a figment of your 'magination."
"Two hours 40 seconds
of deprivation I reckon
too long I've endured a dry run
enough of fabrications
and blood-y relations
Mr Host, are you up for fun?
I'll consult my lawyer
for an eviction order
my voices have gone perverse
the whole lot to go
except of course Flo
the inspiration for my none-too-clean verse
******************************
2013-10-05
Categories:
discernible, funny,
Form:
Rhyme
At the packed coastal beach, scents of chrysanthemums’ incenses
Adorned the cool sea breeze, perfuming my mollified senses
The late afternoon sun burned gently, its flames caressed my skin
Snowy clouds ambled the cheery skies, dressed in crystalline blues.
Its picturesque mirrored by the unruffled sea, as I took in
The panoramic scape, seamlessly flowing, forming curls of indigo hues.
The azure shades subtly paled, as flustered vistas grew morose
Soft mumbles preceded grumbles, in a capricious metamorphose.
Spindrifts and gusts conspired, in mutinous unity of quietude’s assault,
Strides of wave crests turbulent, broadcasted their unruly tumult,
The beach, depraved vestiges of the serene, scenic scape pristine,
In solitude rue of the sea's untamed, rowdy routine.
Surges of emotions compulsive, our dispositions rendered visible
Sometimes as the sea’s open sight, our auras discernible.
© Maverick Nyambu
Categories:
discernible, africa, beach, sea, symbolism,
Form:
Sonnet
No form, no organization, no verse.
A crescendo followed by silence and screams.
A wooden home locked inside of a concrete tome,
With a world collapsing while we keep relapsing
And again the past resurges; what we bury tends not to stay that way,
After all, the piper must have his pay.
A dark closet and we’ve seen fit to rot in it
The Devil in the details told me to be his advocate.
And El Dorado’s gone because a city of gold just wasn’t sustainable
But if it’s attainable then you’re damn right it’s going to be painful.
And death isn’t an option for those of us who feel compelled to keep walkin’
On the sand-- or is it ash? It doesn’t really make a difference while they slash
Their prices by depriving kids of rice and pin open their eyelids
For their twenty hour shifts ‘till they try to plummet themselves off of
Concrete cliffs.
And Macondo is Columbia, unless it’s in the Gulf of Mexico,
but you already knew that, Mr. Critic.
But what are you going to do with it?
Frankenstein was the man, not the monster
The confusion first came when our blame ceased to reclaim
An association between dissociation and our relation
To whatever the truth may have been
‘Cuz it certainly isn’t the truth anymore.
Blank pages in our textbooks and you ask me to memorize it
Regurgitate it and tell you what you want to hear--
My foods teacher says no eating in her class
And sees fit to harass her students with her utter lack
Of discernible knowledge while we cook some Kraft Mac and Cheese.
But who can blame her with the pay she’s getting?
No Telemachus on the television—Nor do we see Stephen
Not while the Situation is breathin’, cuz that’s what’s loved by the station.
Where’s the frustration? The indignation with the ignorant elation
That comes with living in a used-up world?
Dig a treasure map out of the trash and get it unfurled,
You walk to the ‘X’, but it’s been dug up—no wonder it was in there in the first place.
And the esoteric is what they find hysteric ‘cuz they’re all in on the joke
That they find so funny ‘cuz the system is broke.
Politics in work, in life, in marriage, in LIFE,
The wall of separation was torn down it seems, and soon you’ll find them tapping your dreams.
Enjoy watching your people’s nightmares, O Creators.
Tell us it’s what we want.
Categories:
discernible, fear, introspection, people, sad,
Form:
Free verse
Sexual Employee
It clocked in at 7:02 am
No orifice in sight
Placed the time card in a slot
Made its way to a metallic table
Blank white paper on the top
#2 lead pencil, covered yellow, appeared
One hour later the employee began to draw
At the center of the paper starting at point “A”
A thin line was drawn from there to point “B’ on the page
Horizontal, naturally
Below that, one hour later, another line was formed
Starting at point “C”
It too was a thin line drawn and continued on to point “D”
Horizontally, of course (the two lines never intersected)
Vertical lines could only be drawn on Fridays
Diagonals were not permitted
They were perverse and went against the laws of nature
The employee had no discernible features worth mentioning
But, it does come to work each day though
With two buttons built or installed into its side
It rolled over to the clock at 4:02 pm and punched out
Placed the time card in a designated slot and left
Went home with the push buttons still installed
One red. One green. Always the same
We never questioned
It is not our job
Categories:
discernible, business, creation, image, life,
Form:
Didactic
Der Zapfhahn has several meanings in the German language:
The Spigot, The Nozzle, The Tap, The Faucet, The Hose.
Without its definite article, the noun “Zapfhahn” is also the name
of a local pub in a small historic German town with discernible
vestiges of the Roman Empire near Braunschweig.
My earliest experience in this rather colorful establishment dates
back to 1990 during the period of the German reunification.
Zapfhahn is the place to go to imbibe alcohol of all variations,
and to have intellectual discussions (sometimes),
and to dodge errant beer bottles speeding through the air (occasionally),
and to sing songs (mostly in German) apropos to the crowd gathered.
Zapfhahn is the place to go to solve the problems of the world
or at least attempt to do this fruitless adventure.
Zapfhahn, with its medium and influence of alcohol,
is the place to:
adjust your attitude,
fall in love,
fall out of love,
get drunk,
find redemption (depending on your religion),
or just have a good time.
With fun had by all,
and with the night quite late,
I cannot wait to so indulge myself again.
And so, Zapfhahn with your mythic and alchemic
connections to the spirits of the night,
I surrender my soul in due course
so that I might see it resurrected
in its splendid glory.
I can only pray
and hope so.
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved, Schoeningen, Germany
(August 29, 2014)
Categories:
discernible, adventure, allegory, drink, fun,
Form:
Free verse