Best Epicenter Poems
You wrap my name
In syllables of love
Passion tinged sound units
Caressed by the beauty of your voice
you leave me no choice
but to yield....
breathed into my ear
you release
letter sojourners to travel
down the curve of my neck
to a cadence that captivates
and my heart capitulates
When you say my name....
When you say my name
saturated in n~e~e~d
wanting to be freed....
you make the appeal
wanting healing...immediate...real
your testosterone tempered tonality
temptingly deep...
it sets in motion
Resonance reverberations
that rock ecstasy's epicenter...
my name comes again
riding your waves of want...
it comes
in the full knowledge
that my release of liquid love
will welcome you in
to the inner sanctum sanctuary
where your body is idolized
and your name chanted...immortalized
in the rhythm and rhyme
of passion sublime
When you say my name...
When you say my name
you evoke the spirit of eternity
to dance the dance of life
weaving through and around
two simple syllables
of romantic antics
dancing and swaying
your voice calming playing
the trace of romance
leaving nothing to chance
when you say my name....
when YOU say...MY...N*A*M*E*
Eileen
Categories:
epicenter,
Form:
Free verse
a scandalous secret gnaws
at the epicenter of my being
threatening to unearth
score pillars of dirt
upon which my world is built
gilded in reverence,
vaingloriously lauded
and parlayed to ascend sacred rungs
beyond the license of minions,
the legend grows
and grows
and grows
and though I know
my storied steeple,
as all things crooked,
will surely crumble someday,
I pray that it shall stay
erect
an irreverent crown;
a reaming tower of pisa
steeped in piety,
the envy of my faithful throng
preserved
to shatter the innocence of your delicate young…
~ Pablo
Categories:
epicenter, political, satire
Form:
Free verse
The Power of the Tron
Said the Big Computer to the Human Computee:
“Without me, sir, you must concur,
Wherever would you be?
I tally all your numbers, and I even give advice,
Unlike you, I’m objective and predictably precise.
‘Way down my epicenter, I’ve a calculating brain
That can compile, compute, compound, expound, explore, explain.
Oh, don’t you wish you had my wits, if only an iota,
For I’ve more news than I can use -
I'm programmed to my quota.”
And on and on it carried on, continuing to scoff,
Until the Human Computee reached down and turned it OFF.
And now The Big Computer sits there idle all the day,
Without a boasting, bragging, calculating thing to say,
While on the chair, beside it there, the Human Factor lingers,
Computing trig and calculus by counting on its fingers,
And when its used its fingers up, it can simply transpose
And still deduce, deduct, add up, by counting on its toes!
Take heed, you Mighty IBMs, and other pedigrees,
Before you get too taken with your capabilities –
You may have stores of knowledge;
You may be an Alpha Tron,
But it’s the Human Digit
Ultimately
Turns
You
ON.
Categories:
epicenter, 6th grade, allegory, anti
Form:
Rhyme
Dark Skinned Lady. the ever poised legendary beauty, granary of compassion & culture whose stunning reign sparkles the night.
Dark Skinned Lady. comandress of matriotic forces, the earthquake that shakes the pillars of racism & sexism the stream that feeds liberating consciousness
Dark skinned lady. epicenter of the ripples of Africanism. Divinity of a soul tranced by a rhythm, a rhythm forged by the beat of a drum, the drum pumping life into the veins of my Africa!
Categories:
epicenter, love,
Form:
Haiku
NEWCASTLE UPON TYNE, ENGLAND
Half-Scot, half-English and ill at ease with the past,
Newcastle is sooty black from its coaly drama,
And the breathless town was always in a hurry to grow,
Narrowly avoiding destruction of its past or leaping over it.
Up on the plateau, industrial power-engine city:
Its earlier Norman Castle and Black Gate narrowly missed
By the frenetic hammers of eager Victorian builders.
Elegantly-proportioned Grainger Street and Central Rail Station
Pause unwillingly to admit the Scottish-style lantern-spired
Sandstone cathedral with its delicate shade of sooty industrial black.
Down at the riverside - an earlier town of shipyards and arms factories,
Quayside warehouses with watertight flood-doors,
Its precipitous narrow old port-streets carved into the gorge walls
And pierced by cold winds from the North Sea,
Is leaped over by a platoon of high-level metal bridges.
Across the Tyne, inelegant, they grab the opposite bank and bind the city to England.
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
NOTE: 1 Newcastle is situated on the north ( = Scottish ) side of the River Tyne.
The town was an epicenter of the Industrial Revolution,
with coal, steel, chemical, engineering, and shipbuilding
industries, and was also a major seaport.
2 Norman Castle, Black Gate are remnants of a pre-medieval past.
3 Grainger Street, Central Rail Station are 19th century redeveloped areas.
4 Cathedral (St. Nicholas) dates from 14th century.
Categories:
epicenter, urban
Form:
Free verse
And she told him that she would love him
like no other woman ever will.
The accented sensuality to complete his sentences,
was her proclamation.
The Egyptian cotton blanketing her natural breasts,
sliding up his arms
as she wakes him for morning consummation;
epicenter consumption.
She told him that she craves him
beyond physical crux.
He was her equilibrium;
A key to Pandora’s shattered box.
Its fragmented sins,
now synchronous with redemption’s awakening.
Even after all these years…
Yet her heart
was wrapped
by hermetically sealed contention.
…
She told him
that she would love him
more than any other.
More than any other…
…like no other…
More than any other…
As she
strokes the pride
of another.
© Drake J. Eszes
Categories:
epicenter, confusion, devotionlove,
Form:
Free verse
Your chase!
Reminiscing on the oceans I had to dry up
and the volcanos I had to ice up
just to capture the epicenter of your heart
well protected by strong canines
of your carnivorous standards.
Hanging with the clouds of the highest heights
and combating with the dragons
of the Amazon Forest
was worth all the efforts.
Your Love!
shines in vitality
attracting even the goddess of sexuality
as it preserves the indwelling desires of two hearts.
We stayed isolated in the entire world
at midnight, siting on the mountain top
the moon directly above us
showcasing our shadows
melted together with no space in between.
The stars, singing hymns of love
while the trees danced to the romantic melody.
Just the two of us
and the entire universe
bridged by space full of your praise as I behold my Queen.
Whose beauty compresses the wealth of Europe
and gentleness makes
the Dove and the River team up in envy.
Your absence!
Life endeavours have fixed
putting us in an equilibrium of distance
as I perish in a state; psychiatry has no definition.
In the midst of Adult Buffalos
you leave an unprotected Cub.
You aren't gone, just far away
yet I feel like a member of a loser's club
as love has converted me to a scrub.
Thinking I'd be as worse as
a depression endemic atmophere
with loneliness and plutonic cold its major contents,
unfortunately, my heart is its suburb
completely eaten up and infected.
What can make me lay for days
in the bathub;
rejecting everything beautiful and lovely,
and the ointment of darkness I rub?
To all these my Love!
Your absence is the nub.
But I need to stay strong
as I await the purification of your presence once again.
Categories:
epicenter, loneliness, lonely, love, relationship,
Form:
Rondeau
Hungry for munchies, on his way to the lunchroom,
a rambunctious, persnickety,“fuss-budget”, elderly
jittery, fidgety, geezer, named Cassidy…
whose questionable dexterity, aghast by a massive sneeze,
teeter-tottered precariously.
at the edge of the thingamajig, ...jigging one way, jagging the other!
Minding his own beeswax, without any rigmarole,
topsy-turvy on his feet, he reached for the balustrade,
became quite flabbergasted, and very discombobulated
when the doohickey provided for his ambidextrous aid
jiggled free from its screws, and found him footloose!
It seemed the doo-dad, put there by some nitpicking pipsqueak,
some flat-footed, hooligan, who knew diddly-squat, who obviously,
recklessly, constructed a railing, only worthy for failing!
Such foolhardy shenanigans! Was it some practical joke
to lambaste aged codgers, eliminate lodgers, and boondoggle the old folks?
Cass, was an old rabble-rouser, considered a blabbermouth,
was thrown off his epicenter, while his cane went a'sailing, appendages flailing
Onlookers, were outraged, ....in stage of amazement
but laughs grew contagious, and cock-eyed hilarious!
Those carpetbagger carbuncles of society….can’t stop this old fogy
Cass, brushed off his hinny, would not be blind-sighted..
Barbaric bedevilment, won’t halt his felicity!
Some even predicted, with his acid tongue lashings, and his eccentric behavior,
he would stir up entanglement, kibosh the haranguers
and strangle the caboodles, who hooted and hollered!
His face turned beet red, but no meltdown,......instead
He held his chin high
to the dining room, ahead....he ordered French bread
Ordered some bouillabaisse, toasted with balderdash and a shot of rye
He dined with the multitudes, ordered some strudel, and one snicker-doodle
Then he told folks a riddle, "There was a man with a cane, who slipped on a noodle, a handrail came loose, he injured his caboose….and cooked his goose!"
.....................................................
Categories:
epicenter, funny, people, old, old,
Form:
Narrative
When entering the epicenter that is our kitchen
I immediately sensed the seismic activity
My ears tuned to the argument that was ensuing
the growing magnitude on the Richter scale
the continental drift between my mother and father
It made me turn to follow Denali (the family dog)
who was smart enough to flee
....He knew before me
"Get back here" my father yelled
"where do you think you are going" said my mother
I knew i was walking into a 7
potentially an 8
In a mantra I chanted
minimize damage
minimize damage
minimize damage
So I sat silent at the table
lowering my eyes
hoping not to add to the mounting friction
the electrical unrest
Dinnertime conversation
was always the same ....
who was at fault
who is crossing the line
& I the seismologist
was expected to referee
Their ring of fire
I could tell by the cool crust of my mother
and the hot mantle of my father
that the earth was shifting
and in the silence that ensued...
that hair standing straight on my neck
the eerie calm before the storm
I was not prepared for the flash
of tectonic plates flying across the room
my mothers aim dead on
the cracking of shelves and glass
the splintering of the boards beneath our feet
the aftershock of my father's fury
Me
Quaking
Categories:
epicenter, natural disasters,
Form:
Free verse
Like the best part of a dubstep song
I feel the slip slip and drop then it's gone
Like when we got it on with a double magnum on my dong
But that was a virgin page
And with that tight cage unlocked the rat was free to rage
And you know theres no way to gauge magnitude of the ensuing sexplosion
But at the epicenter of all the mental corrosion
Is that hooded figure, that master of commotion
And as the gas ball sets across the ocean he rises
From cracks and gashes, from shadows and ashes
No target in mind
No friends or enemies
Just hell bent on injecting the entropy
And it is just painfully oh-so-clear to see the swiftness and efficiency at which he commits atrocities
Over the screams and pleas the question hangs;
What can sooth this beast?
Categories:
epicenter, angst, dark, death, how
Form:
Alliteration
Often the third wheel between two people
Rolling along the median of life
The epicenter of two separate goals
Neither lane resembling my own
The wheel that no one wanted to steer
Loneliness on the road of several
Rolling along the median of life
Categories:
epicenter, absence, anxiety, character, cry,
Form:
Free verse
I am...
the sums of the infinitesimal fractions of all successes and failures ever created,
the torrential downpour of fallacies, demands, emotions and collective wills imposed upon the world,
the snide, nasty, incorrigible defensive mechanisms unleashed for no apparent reason,
the cauldron of love, hope and compassion bubbling over into humanity,
the certain deflections of character necessary to cope with, and elevate past, the assassinations fired each day,
the blinding, guiding light to deceive and shatter the incessant darkness which holds us prisoner,
the epicenter and exchange of ideas and contemplations necessary for progress and resolution to occur,
the dreams of wild tenor and bizarre discourse, producing subconscious mirrors for conscientious thought,
the catalyst and confidant for the child, the junkie, the shaman, the icon and the lazy ass,
the source that folks rely upon when desperately reaching for absolute truths and occasional revelations,
I am...possibility.
(3/26/12)
Categories:
epicenter, growth, hope, life, me,
Form:
Free verse
Turtle tuning tap. Or a turtle beach. Organisational skills are rife in a sea horn. But duties of a seahorse are to prepare the vast banquets which can spread for many miles over many an ocean floor. Diva divinatory code. Mannequin. A depersonalization of a dragged out pully in a yard brush there lies a hymn. Bacon backwards bringing Belorussian bellowing bison. And a twirling fairy leaning in a breeze. Laughing. Loving. A bistro is a capable source of enlightening entertainment. Particularly when the veil is attuned to a set formation of marble architecture. Oh hahahaha sweep swept sweltering sweat swim. How rather remarkable it is to witness a concrete chatting to a house or a hotel. Such ease. Such divulging. But a diversion is neither a division nor a dilemma. So place several serving dishes in a neat line. Preferably near a basin ship. And a mason is neither a basin nor a painting. Pop a pop a seed ho bang bang bang and cry to the wailing watery Mystical moons who come to eat and consume for to consume is to carry cones around. Hahaha jumping junipers hahahahaha steel stacked sepia straws. And a deal. Xxxxx rest not rant. Xxxxx vertical optical illusion xxxxx 900 bikinis 'on a dust trail. Course created centre. And a very tired bean grinning half asleep in a hammock. Xxxxx epicenter epic. X philanthropy x gravitational z
Categories:
epicenter, america, analogy, basketball,
Form:
Water: wonderful sustainer of life-
Always taken for granted- an epicenter of strife;
Trickling toxins make it unsafe-
Eventual Love Canals all over the place;
Remand the polluters to a healthy jail space!
Categories:
epicenter, education
Form:
Acrostic
High raised community of elongated propriety
In the infirmity of structure moved in the liability
Man's weakness is his bright visions to a lost sight
Unclear to remove layman rules unfolded
By blind ambition in quivering mission
Of thuggery not gained in format by living
But believing in confused formulator of plan B
Of lateral shift in dimensions in the mind
If you mind hiding behind the revised lies
That lies in the epicenter of grey truths
And broken youths to immoral elders
In which illusions enter as history
Turned into fact then held in the highest regard
But there are no foundations in this yard
While the watched herd is heard rebuking the truth.
Categories:
epicenter, city, community, introspection, irony,
Form:
Prose