Best Dissimilar Poems
Coach Dad
It is a magic time when a child ventures
Into the world, spreading wings,
Beginning the oft painful process
of moving from the nest to the sky.
And it is a fragile time, where first experiences
Weigh heavily on shaping the direction
In which young life begins to move
And often whether it moves at all
It is a trying time, of fear and nervousness
One little step out on their own
The start of something bold and beautiful
The molding of a young child's eye
Much is made of parents and peers,
Oft unaddressed is the role of others
Teachers and coaches, a collective entity
Not dissimilar from fathers and mothers
The torch of responsibility being passed
If only for a brief moment
No more clinging to the safety and comfort
of what is already a norm and known
Encouragement or unkind words
So often a matter of chance and moods
Have mighty impacts on growing hearts
Precious opportunities to help a growing life
Young minds and hearts right on the surface
We remember our coaches, good and bad
Caring or not, patience or none,
The struggles, thin times and thick
A team of seven year olds
Is not unlike a litter of unruly puppies
How will they ever pay attention?
Give them a ball, a glove, and a game!
Pride, courage, athleticism, self-confidence
All showcased for the world to see
Taking turns and building bonds
Grasping much more than a newfound skill
If you can stand to be measured,
and fail by that measure, even repeatedly
But come back from it, you'll forever have
One more vital skill in life’s toolbox
One youngster will not win the game alone
But the team can, and its joy
Is multiplied many times over.
All these things and more can be taught.
Whether it be on the field or off
Teamwork, respect and camaraderie
Will forever be entrenched in the mind
Of a well instructed boy or girl
5/4/16
© Tom Quigley and Tim Smith
Categories:
dissimilar, baseball, children, growing up,
Form:
Free verse
"I stood still and was a tree amid the wood,
Knowing the truth of things unseen before;"
. . .
"Nathless I have been a tree amid the wood
And many a new thing understood
That was rank folly to my head before."
--- from The Tree, by Ezra Pound
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Slender, singular, filamentous fir,
Yellowing larch -- these trees
Do not speak but seem to sleep,
Sheltering skinny sheep
Handily herded -- full-fleeced
In lanolin-laden wool.
Sheep do not sleep much.
They speak their protest --
(Such ineffective baas) --
To cloning and to closeness.
All, doubles of the ovine others,
Crowded among brothers,
Cowering under silent wood:
Dissimilar dark fir;
Lone, yellowing
Larch.
Categories:
dissimilar, allegory, life, nature, sad,
Form:
Free verse
Sweat drips from little dust covered faces in the grim back-alley factories
No time for rites of passage other than fingers nimble enough to spin and
Balance wheel spool spin and stitch regulator to their master’s instruction
Anyana is not unique but one of the ‘fortunate’ ones
Gloved hands mop up droplets of perspiration from a lace veil and seduce
A myriad of lovers before she even enters an intricate parquet dance floor
Takes a cue from the orchestra and whirls on stilettos and rhapsodic flair
Chantelle did not purchase her dress at the charity shop
Their stories unite as neo-liberal gangsters spin a yard on wheels of fortune
While their procession fails to trickle down moderate glimpses of hope
Some stride on the cat walk of privilege and others are scavengers in rags
Exposed nipples are rather dissimilar but follow a different path
Anyana gathers her virtues and sends love across the boundary of despair
Her shoes bear no fairy tale stories when midnight strikes at the fashion
Of stolen passion from sweat shops for garments scented with perfume
Cause and effect cannot moderate nor gloss over amoral fabric
03rd November 2019
Categories:
dissimilar, corruption,
Form:
Free verse
Feel to the anguish of the less fortunate
Picture those who opt for shortcuts in life
Sense their grief for they’ve missed out
They forgot a simple life’s equation
Hard work bares success
See the crack of dawn
Even though the day is not firmly established
Just like your journey, it has just begun
Each second present you with a chance
A chance to better yourself for future
Strive not to be the same as yesterday
For yesterday is history
In life nothing is promised
But through hard work anything is attainable
Learn from your predecessors, O! You chosen ones
See the miles of my journey through my grey headed
My journey was lonely and tiring
I lived as if tomorrow will be dissimilar
Now I know change is now
O! If you would listen to my adage
Our era maybe dissimilar
But the challenges are similar
Let my impediments be your road signage’s
To help you avoid the knocks I took
So that you prosper a satisfying life
Let each opportunity fill your artillery
To allow your mind to discharge missiles
That can help you crack your impediments
Just like the light penetrates the darkness
Fire the thought that says, you can’t
Because your love for life, tells me you can!
Yes you can
Categories:
dissimilar, courage, grandson, inspirational, school,
Form:
up or down a matter of perspective
definitions are always subjective
various things we bother to measure
often become that which we most treasure
mysterious quantum entanglement
not relativity's abandonment
rather dissimilar things may be true
all depends on observer's point-of-view
everything is constantly evolving
while the cosmos continues revolving
now longing to travel faster than light
we pin hopes upon theories not quite right
progress comes through that which we dream may be
and the will to make dreams reality
Categories:
dissimilar, creation, destiny, humanity, nature,
Form:
Sonnet
emotional big dipper
going up and then
speeding down
my mind is in a spin
how did I get here?
I don’t like the face staring back at me
so cheerless
hazel eyes without their shine
a broken mirror
dissimilar views
in between the heartache
and expectant dreams
©311020112005
Categories:
dissimilar, confusion, introspection, life,
Form:
Free verse
There once was a woman,
There once was a man,
The most illogical combo,
Since raisins and bran,
Dissimilar parts,
Grey matter disparity,
Which leads to amounts,
Of subjective hilarity,
Both must crave sex,
For prolonged propagation,
With cooperative output,
When induced by libation,
And, that's where it ends,
Except when homo-ignited,
Where friends are just friends,
Unless you know you're invited,
One shops, spends, depletes,
All resources existing,
As the other just bellows,
But never resisting,
Because the woman has power,
She cripples on sight,
Controlling money and love,
With sticky, sweet dynamite,
And unless he's released,
By some self, manmade plan,
He shall bend at the knees,
To avoid showing his hand,
Then by divine intervention,
The Spring turns to Fall,
And the power of fem,
Conquered by any football,
And if somehow constructed,
The perfect male ideal,
Sex-craved, mute, girly servant,
Who would spoon feed each meal,
Nice dream, but not real,
Because the woman is numb,
She simply continues to charge,
Until the max has been sung,
Which is where compromise rises,
Damned do or do not,
Because slap happy mediums,
Keep intact, all they got,
And regardless of structure,
Sans kids, pets and bills,
No ticket or viewing,
Can induce such raw thrills,
So, my friend, you're a man,
Yes, you're brilliant and certain,
With logic and reason,
To encounter any, all burdens,
But, one last remark,
As you wink at that lass,
Prepare both heads for the lessons,
That you'll learn in her class.
(11/9/00)
Categories:
dissimilar, love, marriage, men, relationship,
Form:
Rhyme
Villanelle : Everything’s just much too much and fudge far too far
Everything’s just much too much and fudge far too far
All things cling together only to tear one another apart
Yet nothing’s so complex as to appear so dissimilar
So does any age beset by gnawing fratricidal war
When humans use words to confuse every thought
Everything’s just much too much and fudge far too far
Seasons come and go as the watchful evening star
Nothing about roaring Nature reflects the human part
Yet nothing’s so complex as to appear so dissimilar
Lives are merely words forged in the nuclear star
They bubble and gurgle then blow themselves apart
Everything’s just much too much and fudge far too far
Mountains speak to rivers and rivers the oceans scar
As every word starlings twirl into ritualistic art
Yet nothing’s so complex as to appear so dissimilar
Each human’s a replica of a blind and drifting star
Though Heaven and Hell be not so darned far apart
Everything’s just much too much and fudge far too far
Yet nothing’s so complex as to appear so dissimilar
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014
Categories:
dissimilar, earth,
Form:
Villanelle
for Jessica
Orchards recurring: Two twenty year olds
on dissimilar paths undaunted by love’s
tapestry approaching exclamatory
yields of apricot musk and peach marmalade
their unified voice. It was you. Tonight you’ll take
me in Albuquerque sex 10,000 miles away.
I’m walking home from Dane Smith Hall thinking of
Houston - how it’s become a common noun I’ve told
you about while outside the fraternity house
and it’s increasingly proper status
watching us smoke cigarettes. Our unspoken
thoughts vanish. Grey. White. Blue. Oncology.
Categories:
dissimilar, allegory, appreciation, growth, lost,
Form:
Free verse
Steel – striking steel
Her eyes demure
With a stare
Stern – congruous
Strongly infiltrated
Harshly deviated
Not from heartache
But from necessity
Crazy tears flow
Not from the pain
That crosses paths
With the hard creases
But from the nature
Of steely eyes
Crashing into oblivion
Where she falters
I hone into one
Of those fierce eyes
To stare at the universe
And its infinity
Cold – drowned below
Oblivion crushes
The steel eyes
That she strikes
Closed – nothing invoked
More than the dissimilar
Beyond the chronicles
Of lies – mystic realms
The moon casts no shadow
Where its sliver
Of a crescent display
Dominating – steely position
Not striking as the eyes
Of a steel sword
Pierces…
My heart crushed
Underneath the pressure
Of seeing her eyes
Steel – silver striking
Steely eyes staring…
Russell Sivey
Categories:
dissimilar, allusion, symbolism,
Form:
Free verse
My genealogical family tree
was traced by a relative distant,
thus uncovering ancestral names for me,
of some who had seemed nonexistent.
The past came alive in my fantasy world
with visions of settings dramatic,
as I felt myself in scenario hurled
that verged on a theme operatic.
Some fancies akin rose from imagery mix
of five different wavelengths and hues
in Wide Field, of NGC one eight six six,
with orange-red old stars, young in blues.
It’s a globular cluster considered strange
in Dorado constellation found,
with sidereal periods of wide range,
hence a stelliferous bunch renowned.
One hundred sixty thousand light-years away
from Earth, at Large Magellanic’s brink
(a galaxy cloud turning round Milky’s sway),
this massive multitude seems to sync
youthful stars with others from former ages,
through metallicity analyzed,
dissimilar in stellar saga stages,
which left astronomers quite surprised,
because it appeared unexpectedly young.
James Dunlop, credited with the act
of discovery, still has his praises sung
for listing a host of stars in fact.
Indeed, it was in eighteen twenty-six that
the Scottish stargazer spied the group
noteworthy, and catalogued where it was at,
assigning a label to the troop.
In the case of this cluster Hubble captured
with varied residents in the crowd,
perhaps a new star batch was manufactured
in rendezvous with a huge gas cloud,
as in a cosmic orchestral creation
with melodies that interrelate,
scored by composer of stellar vocation
for astronomical concert great.
An opus like Handel’s, supernally grand,
might sound and resound in the cluster,
with symphonic reach universally spanned,
in radiant star-studded luster,
while music mellifluous echoes in spheres,
or so my reveries rhapsodize,
to harmonies chorused by stellary peers
that resonate through celestial skies.
Generations of humankind here on Earth,
measured in cadenced metrical bars,
could be likened to fugue theming death and birth…
Might we be analogous to stars?
~ Harley White
* * * * * * * * *
Inspiration, image and info ~ Some of the Stars in this Cluster are Almost as Old as the Universe Itself While Others Formed in a Second Generation. It Looks Young and Old at the Same Time…
Categories:
dissimilar, analogy, family, history, music,
Form:
Verse
Though Nervous...
Yours truly, quite dissimilar
to a woodlark,
nonetheless, this human
i(r)onically positively charged
to forge covalent bond,
hence this stranger
axon impulse to generate,
modulate, and spark...
assimilate virtual digital connection
with mine quark
key aura, charisma,
and karma acquired,
sans "FAKE" trumpeting
assertion tubby Ozark
Mountain Daredevil, I feign
boasting as true mark
Putin on Ritz storyteller wannabe,
incorporated with hallmark
card writer, and thus
feeble attempt to embark
upon eurythmic quest
to facilitate online journey,
wherever the whim
of reciprocity, spontaneity,
and transparency doth
deem reasonable benchmark.
Blatant camaraderie desire
explains rhyme and reason,
(and collusion) if such tactic appealed
within scrunched, highbrowed, and furrowed
forehead this whim congealed,
eyebrows raised with elan to field
said poetic laced metrical pursuit
(grammatically well healed)
unsure what outcome,
(perhaps duff feeted endeavor)
might be revealed!
At deux score away from
attaining Sant Henny yawl
whirl wide aging cobwebs
glom rusty cogs and wheels
of me noggin pine to flip
(the hands of time)
growing old steals
often playing back gauzy past,
where silently musty
Old Virginny hoary memory reels
squeakily turn, yet revisiting,
painful remembrance of things past
only reminds me how this Scottish Matt
got stepped on by many heels.
Numerous unpleasant vivid bro
kin recollections of doomed,
foregone smitten loves flit to and fro
many awkward boyhood infatuations never
broached to secret paramour,
asper this common Joe
forever embossed pretty thang,
penniless and dolorous 1959 minted
baby boomer lass ne'er did know,
probably snickered (out of mine earshot),
a painfully shy lad, who stood
(rather small) apart from status quo
sported nerdy skinny as toothpick physique
encompassing scared kid accumulating woe.
Even at this instant forlorn romantic
notions finds this papa craze
zilly wished courage existed to
whisper "hello" during prepubescent days
for one gull in particular engendered
unstoppable fervent gaze
especially within cat's whisker
visiting her hypnotic gaze
leaving suppressed, locked, and bottled
languishing testosterone
squelched in confusing maze.
Categories:
dissimilar, 8th grade, childhood, crush,
Form:
Free verse
When It Is Winter
Whence from shine the seasons to whom and to where
High on snow peaked mountains sits the Buddha under a fir tree
Exalted warm in the glow of change and stillness he mediates
Never ending contradictions assembles frost transcends right there
In the heat of the desert Northern lights shed their guidance
To similar truth’s complementation seek meaningful sense
In abandon vast perception’s years cycle from our point of views
Swift within and without riches and scrap heaps of dissimilar hues
When periods swell and spell interchange across planets and orbit
In constant revolution vison blind folded deceptions and ruses
No one come high tides water or drought can simply absorb it
The winter is summer as spring turns to autumn and perspective
Emerges in harmony when my lights in the South levitate from
Reclusion where wise humans freeze sweat which is highly subjective
Categories:
dissimilar, seasons,
Form:
Acrostic
Valediction to..
Yet again nature sheds rain,
thunder and lightening strikes as they scream in pain,
the bell tolls the loss of tranquility,
mankind mourns the loss of humanity,
oceans deprived of water,leaves fallen from tree,
infinite hollow soul moves,gloominess hangs in the world are now set free,
dissimilar morning begin with mourning,
morally bankruptcy about to begin,
ethics and emotions already faded,
ones rich in prosperity but spiritually degraded,
where materialism,corruption,prejudice and ignorance at its peak,
the light has fallen asleep,
dead! abstract is no more,
she is alive! love is no more,
once her angel heart filled with love for me,
but now its demon heart has no love left for me,
funeral march on the death of my love begins!
yet again nature sheds rain,
in a vision I saw multiplicity of coffins,
humanity,ethics,wisedom,happiness lying in the wooden box,emotionless scream out in pain
funeral mass approached graveyard and sadness diffused!
earth sings the eternal melancholy song,where remaining happiness disguised,
human having eyes but blind,
a valediction to mankind,a valediction to mankind.
Categories:
dissimilar, farewell, grief, sad, solitude,
Form:
Elegy
The Left Hand of Darkness tells the story of a lone human emissary from Terra sent to facilitate Winter's inclusion in a growing intergalactic civilization.
However, in doing so he must come to view in the differences of those of the completely dissimilar culture that he encounters; to embracing the aspects of psychology, society, and human emotion on an alien.
The planet Winter or Gethen inhabitants are hermaphrodite, a manwoman, to be respected and judged only as a human being made up of two major religions opposites in belief and ritual. One is mystical and inspired while the other is rational and philosophical. The novel centers on cultural proficiency not only recognize, but also embraces the worldview that each culture brings.
which gender my love
desire, sire or bare our child
while as a woman
The main conflict in this novel is man vs. society. Genly Ai must adapt to the unfamiliar society on Winter. The people of Winter are very different from the people of Earth. They have no gender and no sexual desire except for once a month. Gender roles are not a part of their society; the rules are very different from Earth rules.
music I listen
you are the earth, moon,and stars
mirror I see in
Lesson learned, he must make sacrifices to achieve his goals.
The book can be read as a love story or anthropological adventure.
2/27/2018
The Left Hand of Darkness written by Ursula K. Le Guin, published in 1969
Quote from the book:
Light is the left hand of darkness
And darkness the right hand of light.
Two are one, life and death, lying
Together like lovers in kemmer
Like hands joined together,
Poetry Contest: Ursula Le Guin
Sponsored by: Debbie Guzzi
Categories:
dissimilar, science fiction,
Form:
Prose