Best Engendering Poems


Premium Member Quietude

Quietude
          by Odin Roark

Quietude
Like a tree’s dark shadow
Knows only the absorption of all colors
Rendering the din of senses
A cacophonous silence

How gentle the process
Once resistance abates
The mind’s own deprivation tank
Engendering trust void of fear

Yet

So hesitant are many
To embrace the white light
To wait out nature’s tintinnabulation
The white noise becoming aphonic

To lay oneself down
Afloat atop the water
The grass
The ethereal reality of consciousness
Where leaves of brown
Beneath the awaiting orange of 
Red and yellow repeat nature’s cycle

Where jasmine lures the mulch of life
Into purity’s gateway
Patiently biding time’s eternal truth
Preparing one with zero

The hush of peace
The quiet of love
The mutation of hate
Conjoin in harmony’s sublime reward
The circle of quietude
© Odin Roark  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Hinges

Dealing  positive in measure.."
Engendering for better..!

Summing Up

Mr MacPherson, a mathematician
Was married to Sally,a keen statistician.
With little division to trigger vexation
Their conjugal lives led to multiplication.
First Roland, then Harry and then the addition
Of first daughter Jenny, a gifted logician.

The one common factor of great satisfaction
Engendering fervour and strong interaction
Was love of arithmetic, logic and theories
Together with quantum and harmonic series.
In sum, they endeavoured on every occasion
To bring mathematics within the equation!

24.03.20


Premium Member Qualities of Health Engendering Women

They see strengths
Not the limitations
These are people who will make you proud of yourself
They will tell you why you’re special
Trust you to the point you have to answer their expectations
They make you better than you normally are
You can be proud of yourself
They respect you 
For what you’ve done
Where you’ve come from
They see what you’ve experienced something real
Respect you for your courage
They live by their rules
They do not expect you to follow theirs
They are at peace to themselves
They are not proving anything to you
They are good listeners
Sincere in their interest in you
You feel important
They are available for honest
Genuine discussion
Makes you want to share yourself

History Repeats

Society! A sad state of affairs.
Corporate, owned. The stores pushing their wares.
Politics, ambiguous. No truth found.
Majority vote. Yet, the loser, crowned.
Divided we stand. The land is not free.
Upward you rise if you have the money.
Our brightest kids, dreams never realized.
Educations cost just too super sized.
Classism, racism drives caste system.
Open your eyes. Should be "us" against "them".
Social media, engendering strife.
Corrupt media, divides like a knife.
Another empire comes to a close.
You're warning. Revolution ended those.

-Angel Fatale-
-ode to the Sons of Liberty
© Ryan Tyler  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Of Promises and Ashes

A promotion of anxiety 
entwines with current society,
engendering moral surrendering,
we live a life now so compromised,  
with more to fear therein, than mortal demise.



Copyright Joe Maverick 2011


Stone of St Croix Island

Carefree in leisure time, one blasé tourist, 
almost happy, I once had collected a complicated stone;
after the sunny hours had ended and last opportunity
for keepsakes began.

In my hand the stone had kept all of its mouths sewn shut,
holding its amalgamated story, and likewise in the car,
on the plane, through US Customs where it was not 
in the least suspected.

A thumbnail identity I now should guess at, marking an old date,
and fixing it to, with reasonable estimate, a map location:
Plot No. 243, East end of the island, slave sugar plantation,
the stone from the corner of a ruined windmill stair—
broken free by my criminal hand, having liberated a vine.

The stone looked like a bleached out mini-monolith, square-rectangular,
able to be stood on end, leaning back and swollen at its center
like a pulled cork.

What could have moved this sequestered world to opening?
That was not for me to discover, except what came on Christmas Day,
two days after my returning.

Slave watercourses, the sight of innumerable Dutch ships,
ballasted with human flesh and hewn rock for sugar works buildings.
The drop at arms swish of the Driver’s bullwhip.
Flecks of spirit splayed on vegetation.
A mongrel dog barked beyond the windless wall of sugarcane
in centipede and mosquito heat.


Seaside, beautiful seaside impressions;
distant coral light shadows, etched deep azure;
snowy colored breakers that pencil-marked the sea.
The staid, vibrant, mocking power
of visual symphony backdrop.

So little of aid for the slaves, but for those dangerous secrets, 
unhoused in the fallen coolness of the night:
demonstratively crystalline heaven of stars; 
a ragged moon, clouds scudding eastward toward Africa
before freshwater rainsqualls came.  And there 
Orion’s Belt, mid-sky, illustrious bright, with its three
centering star points in rational line, as if 
Hope could have flung such a rope anchor onto Life
engendering sanctified resistance.

Christmas morning, 5 a.m. 
I had awakened from a stuck place, shapeless and dark, 
half in dreaming and half in knowing I was in no dream.

I was sobbing, yet strangely, because there were no tears. 
I had only put the stone inside my pajama top onto my heart.

Once Upon a Time

Under the moon light we gathered;
Giving listening ears to grandpa’s trembling lips,
As serene dusk and silence embraced
Once upon a time onsets his tip.

There was the first garden of untold beauty;
A gift to the first man with overwhelming privilege,
 In which the first sin stunk humanity;
Engendering the first punishment as a badge.

Did the creator miss the creature?
Where else could they go in this plight?
These posers came like rapture,
While grandpa laughed to our naïve insight.

Still, he continued with an annunciation,
One Gabriel, one Mary in Nazareth;
Actors of act 1 scene 1 of salvation,
Here, faith steps on Everest zenith.

Nine months passed to zamani’s womb,
And the expected saviour came,
Gold frankincense and myrrh exchanged tomb
To seal Christmas fame.

Draconian Ii

[The Puppeteer]
The storm I see you in
Caught in the race of Caïn
Held by the arms you cannot see--the conducter of Ennui 
-No stronger than the void you hold within-
It began with a hope, an obsession
Casted into, slavery of repugnant possessions 
Granted by, the Avaricious Lords, the ones we serve for
-They Told Us to pray, hope, away from despair, the despair caused by their immaculate Hands
Malice, envy, greed, was granted to me, The Feudal Dream, we want to be Them, just like him
-just how he solaces us, ambivalent hope, engendering knives to my throat 

[The Fall]
In this Valley of morning and weeping
Love lies bleeding, in desperate fear
With their talons, the hunt to rip out thy heart 
As each velvet petal falls apart
Her body chained in their bile and lies, covered with their red-spy
-sent just to check if our souls are in line, do not defy 
Her blood velvet and pure, drips away with innocence of the amber guardian 
The soil of plagues, beggars, and graves
Is know her home, the coven of solace
Though the seed has died--resurrection Is near passing through death's fear
One stronger than you--and thy funeral skies
She is alive--anew
But the vapors still remain
The Apocalypse is here, do we fear?
Just for the death of our sins
Elysia never Seemed so far away

[Our Damnation]
Solitary ruins, Fulfill their visions
We strayed far from the depths within 
We all lingered to his solace--lies
-you make the sign everyday, but lack toknow the name
We are just the toys, he pulls all of the strings
We are nothing in this burning world
of Decadence, and Failed Semblance

[Draconian] 
Draconian--Reach for the shadows within
Draconian--Break from the Fallen's son
Draconian--Their empirical lies, only die
Draconian--Reach the shadows within

Premium Member Spring Is Coming Soon

Soon one and all will welcome the unique
Pleasantness of spring. Sun’s
Rays and showers will fulfill their
Intended purpose, engendering
New life in the earth as we say 
Good-bye to winter’s last cold blast.
		
Indoor time will decrease as
Sounds of joy fill the air outside.

Closets will reflect the season--
Out with the overcoats, gloves,
Muted shades, and heavy shoes;
In with brighter, light-weight apparel.
Now, let’s unbox those shorts and flipflops.
Go ahead and stock up on grilling supplies.
	
Some of us have allergies.
Our eyes and noses will flow freely.
Our meds, we hope, will help. Achoo!
NEVERTHELESS, WE ALSO LOVE SPRING!	


January 30, 2021
entered in Brian Strand's All Yours (Jan 29) contest

Where Art Sisyphus

Tis quite a beast of burden to bear atlas (shrug off not allowed)
Atlas shrugged an impossibility
tantamount to skinny dipping in the lock nest lagoon

Tantamount to shrugging Atlas off mine bony, 
   ill suited, widower wizened shoulders, 
would take naked fat chance in Fountain Head of virgin waters, 
   eddy fied with huge boulders 
which preliminary sketches to maintain pristine 
   (pure as Snow White's booty) kept in folders

when collaborative effort called, the fore mid able, 
   trio, sans state of the artists 
   (within their respective trades as writer
   fictional hero, and architect) 
   Ayn Rand, John Galt, and Howard Roark, 

   who undertook resplendent measures 
   affected resilient as omnipotent cable
   tub ring plenti kickstarting linkedin gatecrashers   
   to a snapchatting halt 
   instagramming, crowdsourcing, crowdfunding, 
   held at equivalent asper Bay of Pigs
   viz Pay of Bigs 

   (in this context identified as  
   (vudu trained stalwarts, petsmart outlook, 
   incorporating literary, metaphorical,   
   nautical staff comprising fable
sea Crete cure metamorphoses abilities, as failsafe method – 
   i.e., physically, instantaneously, architecturally rendering
   modus operandi capacity asper quick as blazing saddles
   (ponied up by young Frankenstein) 
   kept in fireproof stable,

   where at dextrous fingers ala hocus-pocus prestidigitation 
   which chiefly buoyantly ardently, and hardily drafted imp pier re: hull 
   rock hull impediment for shore also cast evil spells should 
   any foolish soul, who dared 
   to maneuver past the near blinding pier sing redoubt
   to access blue lagoon like watery oasis 
   shielded via reeking poor Island 
   (where an atomic rooster gargoyle shrouded parapet)
   buffeted the crashing waves against 
   the lock smooth as a glass table

whose wooden sea legs solidly affixed 
   to hip, hip hooray three chairs
inviting two story book heroes plus the author,  
   unfurling parchment scriptural roles invited ad lib flairs
since threat of category five hurricane 
 manifested took writer by surprise,

   thus requiring her to utilize cognitive gears
which necessitated modification of original plot,
   now bumped credos with religion 
   vis a vis engendering prayers.

Premium Member A Spring Mix

In early spring some days are cold, 
for winter’s loath to break its hold, 
still sending winds that bite and sting. 
Some days are cold in early spring.

Sing, one and all, to welcome the unique 
Pleasantness of spring. Sun’s 
Rays and showers will fulfill their 
Intended purpose, engendering 
New life in the earth as we say 
Good-bye to Winter’s last cold blast.

Are those little birds I see now 
soaring in the skies above me? 
Itchy, weepy, bloodshot eyeballs 
strain to see spring's scenes so lovely. 
Fragrances of March and April, 
gifts sweet springtime now delivers, 
permeate my faucet nostrils, 
turning streams to raging rivers. 
Benadryl is coursing through me, 
bringing respite from the season, 
rendering me semi-conscious, 
itching not, but lacking reason.

Mid-spring is here. The earth’s alive. 
Green grass, full trees, and flowers thrive. 
Sunshine and warm winds bring us cheer. 
The earth’s alive. Mid-spring here. 

Comes June’s debut with longer days 
and rising heat. To summer’s ways, 
we soon must bid sweet spring adieu. 
With longer days, comes June’s debut.


March 23, 2021, spliced together from three old poems
Contest: Fragments of Verse
Sponsor: John Lawless

I Cannot Weight To Hmm

I Cannot Weight To Hmm...
Be Pressed By A Dumbbell

Two fifteen pound
     steely danse sing
     wrought iron dumbbells
     ill-tempered, impatiently,
     and intensely a weight
their turn to hmm... press me,
     and forthwith dense trait
heavy handed prestidigitation

     to yours truly, this primate
currently attempting
     to craft sad excuse
     for a poem, sans far fetched
     notion, aye trite re: late
engendering, foisting, and goading
     bizarre lifelike qualities
     to inanimate solid helpmate

to build (and/or oven
     just tone) muscles bitterly, painfully,
     resignedly wince, where washboard
     abdomen long a goner
     impossible to recoup, 
     whar hide didst narrate
ting hours sculpting great
former Adonis build

     on these, now nada so lovely
     bones, and experience 
     spiritual strife to oscillate,
     perhaps witness sing 
     angst to esse skill late
heady feeling healthy vim within
     myself, how just
     with verily at least dedicate

half hour exercise can be great
for body, mind, and
     soul triage, otherwise...
     basic gravitational laws
     of physics gladly
     hand me unwanted fate,
how gradually physique
     will eventually demonstrate

flabby, droopy, and
     unwanted addy post tissue create
ting another reason to berate,
castigate, emasculate, where
     self repudiation will germinate
(albeit, thence in extremis), yours truly
     doth relinquish fitness regime
     resulting sparking, and taste

     testing casus belli dictate
tête-à-tête, viz hasty
     unconditional surrender to
     a void mortal kombat,
     which latter, would exterminate,
the forces of yin and yang,
     re: lee (I rub hurts) loch cur,
     thence finding me fraught,

     (yule hiss see - uselessly)
     grant ting soul 
     option to disintegrate,
in the event emotional civil war,
rents asunder every fiber
     of mine being, which
    wrath wracked wraith self destruction 
     twill woefully satiate.

Total Time I Spent In Dental Chair Post Adolescence To Present Age First Appointment

so much precious existence 
found me rooted with mouth ajar 
as sigh asper the dentin-cementum 
so mud dear reader (with dem perfect 
enameled pearly whites), aye har bar 
envy for those with a complete set 

of eight incisors, four cuspids (i.e. canines), 
eight bicuspids, and twelve molars 
(including four wisdom teeth) tabulating 
many hours in the car (engendering 
saddle sore bony tuckus) 
plus regarding chunk whereat,

pernicious cementum funk 
viz distraught psyche, when muss self as a lil monk
key decades after being examined 
by family dentist Doctor Marcus (NOT WELBY),
excellent practitioner (button irate pulp pill 

people ' especially children) eater – the grump,
whose private practice located 
in Levittown, Pennsylvania, 
and when prepubescent underwent 

pertinent more explicit focused 
intense noninvasive procedures 
asper subsequent cause of speech impediment 
determined why air didst jump

thru nostrils, (speech therapist at Henry Kline Boyer), 
neither thin nor plump 
informed parents 
of Lancaster Cleft Palate Clinic – 
fifty plus miles one direction),

where chief prosthodontist 
Doctor Mohammad N. Mazaheri, DDS, an Iranian 
whose expert reputation, sans strict manner didst trump
his aura, karma evincing clipped commands 
forceful as a vocal whump 

before launching into meat and potatoes 
of crux comprising real aim
constituting modus operandi 
(and cresting away from details indirectly tide 

into main intent, nobody aye blame)
for thine dental debacle quandary 
(managed by gumshun, 
whereby eons hyperbolically toted beyond google), 
and despite the optimistic stance 
wool worth anesthetized numb skull claim

nascent malocclusion faintly affecting, 
hinting, pointing toward Periodontitis 
(despite diligence attending to oral hygiene frame)
the manifestation of major looming crisis compromising, 
forgoing, instigating, et cetera loss of teeth, 

this (after agony in league with separate occasions 
twice wearing braces, concomitant Extractions 
of wisdom and removal of crowdsourcing – 
closeup toward the front of mouth teeth - game

His Emma Nance

loving male, natural of pleasure, quintessentially 
rendered suitable to us via way ova our darling daughter.

tis the blessing of this average, contemplative damn 
ejected flotsam globular human impish jokester kooky lamb
misunderstood nonestablishmentarian outlier praises quality ram

rod sterling stately treasured undergraduate, ventures wielding yawping zeal
asper near perfect synchronized 
   ventured capitalone bond to me doth appeal
twas thankful to seminal accomplishment 
   dearest Eden Liat exhibited
   when smart as a whip per snapper abilities did congeal
witnessing passing each grade with flying colors - 
   electrifying mien kempf as if stung from Alaska Bull worm eel 
I ask you to - just take in stride wordy way as sigh guide "sea legs" to feel
along murky medium, how to communicate élan which doth heal

this figurative war torn, self strafed, kamikaze buzz-feeding, 
   eventually fostered grimacing hangdog ilk insensate
blitzkrieg assailed middle aged married male - during his early decades 
   endured passivity, while peers viciously throve on me with hate
tread - pock marked psychological scars perforated 
   positive faith in self, only now I feel great,
whence untrammeled passion presumed murmured between themselves 
   when alone pondering their fate
two vibrant young adults appear especially well suited, 
   as two peas in a pod
   a radiant ionic bond they plainly equate
(one comprising thee "star student" progeny), 
   supremely mature to date
and thee well groomed Emmanuel 
   dust blend harmonious with "Ode to Joy" ye create
such an idyllic sight engendering tears of happiness 
   buffer and shine each alphanumeric byte, NOT phishing for bait
most pleasing sight assuages psychic purposefulness, 
   Anorexia Nervosa once ate.

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