Best Experimentation Poems
Pretending can be a bold form of experimentation
and inventiveness. In pretending joy or happiness,
we may discover or enhance our capacity for it.
Harriet Lerner
Lord Leofric: The waging of war is man’s affair
Lady Godiva: Then wage war in your way, M’Lord,
and I’ll wage war in mine
Movie, Lady Godiva of Coventry (1955)
MASQUERADE
Quivers the man traversing the icescape.
Queen dominates the saddle with her eyes.
Size five, bare, narrow feet melt snowy floor.
Masquerade - his wife dreamy in disguise.
Flesh, smooth as ice rink, after zamboni.
Warm hearth behind the seven veils of d’sire.
Godiva tresses descend to her knees.
Bright red lips, parting flames, a flute of fire.
Singes where cherry makes contact...shivers
and moans like Winter Nor’easter through trees.
Memories malleable — tongue to ink.
Lobe, neck, thighs surrender to cold night tease.
Quiet warmth underneath the satin sheets.
His eyes wide open - concedes his defeat.
2/1/2021
Sensual Poetry
Sponsor: Charlotte Puddifoot
HMS Line 1 lists icescape as 3 syllables but it is 2
ATHENS DECEMBER 1983
COSMOS COLOURED KALEIDOSCOPE
A world so full of people,
Yet so empty,
Its vacuum is unbelievably painful,
Our cosmos surrounds us
In it’s infinite greatness,
But within, lies only selfishness.
A planet, a continent
A country, a town,
What does it matter if there
Is no meaning to
It’s very existence,
If for what we are looking
For, lies hidden beneath a
Lifetime’s experimentation?
A vision for a lust
Of living suddenly
Flashes past,
And as thirsty as we are to
Fulfil our innermost desires,
Grasp out and clutch,
At an unfinished dream,
Only to find that this illusion
Is not tangible,
Only imaginable!
Lets get lost in our imagination
Let's take a vacation
Let language get lost in translation
Let your feelings take you to your destination
We are learning about the art of creation
Trippy visions and unexplainable vibrations deep inside
Only to be comforted while on an uncontrollable and unpredictable interplanetary ride
Come take a trip on the wild side
Come feel the energy surging out of our pores
You have no fears and no enemies when it comes to the psychedelic spores
They just want to share knowledge about what and who we are at the core
DMT and Ayahuasca want to show you other worldly doors and possibly what the afterlife has in store
Words can't express every chill and hallucination that flows through our being
What is a "true" definition of an entity or a being
Can you actually tell me this is just an illusion?
Or can you understand my language of confusion
So many are fortunate to experience mother nature's chemical fusions
Share art, share love, but most importantly share knowledge
Psychedelics are nature's version of educating us, similar to college
Just one experimentation and then the truth in my words will be easy to acknowledge
Love the Universe until it Love's you back ?
Examination
Experimentation
Contemplation
And concretization
Have carried you to the
Ethereal spheres...
Swimming in the clouds
Sleeping on the laps of galaxies
You casualize the constellation.
Spacialization
Becomes your
Specialization
I'm filled with anticipation, in a new location of accomodation. There cannot always be acceleration or innovation, some times you just need relaxation and rotation. So take note of this notation, my medication; we don't need sedation or starvation of recreation, only exploration of rejuvenation. In this globalization we need only collaboration and integration for a happier population. Motivation, to strive for gratification without hesitation. Toleration, not discrimination or examination of immigration. No more disinformation. Only communication.
We gave each other affirmation, but also forced limitation on our own equalization. Now it's time for emancipation, conciliation, elimination of indoctrination. This experimentation of stabilization was just an illustration of civilization, a pronunciation of dehumanization. The world needs no subordination or victimization, only representation of unification. Diversification, to strive for participation and cooperation. Celebration, not procrastination or cancellation of harmonisation. No more deprivation. Only acceptation.
We live in a world of normalization, fabrication, calculation of improvisation. Now we need concentration and visualization, revaluation of imitation. So listen to this formulation, compilation, my elaboration and articulation; we need realization, imagination, not standardization of variation. This is my education. End of communication.
Shattered bottled up dreams
strewn in callous fashion,
litter those Tobacco roads
of man-made poverty
Cancerous amorality
is the accepted dystopian reality
Majority rule by the metal ballot law ...
second finger got a gun pressed to the jaw
Diablo destiny decree:
Dos digital corrects any uno analog flaw
This warped sensibility
is the venal logic served pucker raw
A lot of lip sizzle buttery undercooked,
a lot of dead bang thievery overlooked
Ash fault neglect
is heaped on the next generation
of social experimentation
Petri dish promises
are furtive cloned assertions
Silky slick politricking on the wifi
(why fi-nance poor citizens’ aspirations)
is a web of deceit ...
tax-deductible alm desertion
Roll the lively military drums,
let the drones deliver
a hollow incoming death hum
Victory is counted as being “less of,”
cull the bottom feeders of a wolfbane society —
This is the favorite poison ivy scheme
of the power pyramid builders:
Soulless architects
erecting a crooked obelisk dystopian reality
And this fractured,
motion picture reel nightmare
still ain’t murky half as bad as it’s gonna be
once soothing to two
wherever time was
(throughout our relationship at times there was harmony)
lovers
in the moment
(that moment in time when we engaged in sex)
in music of the man who nature dances to
(god was with us)
wrestle in the wind
feel their existence
(and in our love of nature we felt our existence and we were with god)
on nothing they roll
(our love levitated us)
unaware of cold
(we felt nothing but one another)
swim the desert sand
(lost in our unconscious)
and she
wearing his smoking jacket
(and when it was done we were still one)
then it starts again
(our sexual experience continues)
the touch of chains
as they mesh explosive
on the edge of a steel rip
(bondage and trust on the cutting edge of our experimentation)
an hour of talking
(we talk)
then their bare flesh together
in their source
timed
(once again we bond in the making of love)
the crackling sound
of their intercourse
(our sounds like fireworks)
as in a filmstrip
(and we go beyond reality)
and once again
a thousand explosions
(as our orgasms are multiple and explosive)
22~12~2014
With Love
Maurice Yvonne
Weapons and mass destruction
Traffic congestion
Infrastructure deterioration
Human experimentation
Child Abuse and Molestation
Church-State Separation
Toxic waste and unemployment
Exorbitant education
Police corruption and abuse
Alcoholism,Grey Goose
Can’t smoke indoors
Can’t smoke outdoors
Big Brothers mouth roars
“STOP the POLLUTION”
When it’s big businesses
That has the solution
To air pollution
It’s not the consumers
So stop spreading those rumors
Medicare and Medicaid Reform
Trying to set the norm
Compared to
Money Laundering
And the show that some
Perform
Media Bias
Would stop if we only had
More Zechariah's
Homelessness
In the U.S
It’s not a good reflection of America
Doing its best
Women fighting
For their equal rights
And racism lingering
Day and night
Change must be bold
And in Highlight
Musicians played classics as condemned marched under “ARBEIT MACHT FREI.”
Losing their “SOLES” and “SOULS” the future options for each gassee!
For every pair of empty leather “SOLES” you see,
they took a lovely “SOUL” away from you and me.
They also took their hair, gold teeth and skin,
piled them all up, then started over again.
Experimentation without permission gave modern medicine lots of cash,
the line perpetually kept moving with dogs, guns and the heavy lash.
Imagine screams coming from showers that NO ONE cared to hear,
“ZYKLON B” poured in from above, the dead dragged out the rear.
Even today there are those that say it never, ever evolved,
though a despot once told the world, it was a “problem he solved!”
We’ve all seen the pictures, that wasn’t a vacation passenger train,
Muster “LEATHER VOICES,” whose SOULS cry out “NEVER AGAIN!!!”
*”arbeit macht frei,” (work will set you free). The internees had to march under that
infamous sign upon arrival at Auschwitz. Poem for Leather Voices contest.
THE PASSION OF CHRIST
A Confrontational Poem by Atsu Adaletey
The Passion
Of Christ
Is a Mission
With Thirst
The Passion
Of Christ
Is a Vision
With a firm Decision
The passion of Christ
Is faith in Action
Not a Risk
For Experimentation
Is not to take pride in church mansion with air condition
It is to step out, reach out to those poor souls in a hopeless condition
It is not to take pride in your smartphones during church service
It is to fear the Lord for his greatness and to revere Him with some level of discipline
It is not for church sitters
But for church workers
It is not for crowd-driven souls
But for kingdom-driven souls
The passion for Christ
Now replaced with the passion for lust
That which ignores the essence of the Trinity
The passion for Christ is not for high hills who are reluctant to jump in His praise
The passion for Christ is for flat feet that humble their reputation and position for His praise
The passion for Christ is not for make-ups that fake His praise
The passion for Christ is not for make-ups that denies
the soul from true worship
It is for souls who truly understand what it means to worship Him in truth and in spirit
It is for those whose skin deserves some whip
It is for those whose palms receives some nailing, embracing the pain of sacrifice in worship
The passion for Christ is for “wanna dos”
Not for “wanna sees”
Show me your phone and let Jehovah show me how much time He spends watching over you
Show me your expenses and let the creator who gives you life showcase your offerings and tithes
Tell me how old you are
And let Him tell you how many “minutes” you are left with
Tell me how busy you are
And let Him tell you how free He is
The Passion
Of Christ
Is a Mission
With Thirst
The Passion
Of Christ
Is a Vision
With a firm Decision
The passion of Christ
Is faith in Action
Not a Risk
For Experimentation
It is not for church sitters
But for church workers
It is not for crowd-driven souls
But for kingdom-driven souls
Where is your passion?
In Christianity
or Vanity
?
Life is lived as a book, so I’m told
and we live out this story in chapters.
And we even write of the stories we’ve lived
and regale with tales of our adventures.
Our childhood is a myriad of stories
filling chapter and chapter with discovery,
wonder, angst, joy, everything in growing up.
Our teens are chapters of pain, confusion and
experimentation. Temptation. Rebellion and growth.
Young adulthood … ah, sweet love. Career, family.
First foray into independence and building a family.
Then chapters for kids, school, braces, college …
Then they grow up and move out. Weddings, grandkids
retirements and IRA’s. The book is expanding.
But this book is predictable. This is the Brady Bunch.
Where is the crisis, the divorce or the addiction?
Where is the mental illness or the adulterous affair?
Where is the poverty, the abuse, unknown calamity or death?
If life is truly a book, then we write our chapters as we go.
There is no cookie-cutter life to stamp out and imitate.
Life is fluid, moving, changing, consuming, powerful,
destructive in its unrelenting, impersonal path.
This is the end of this chaotic chapter, a fresh page awaits.
Too many of my chapters are chaotic and destructive.
While the next chapter can’t be written until it has been lived,
I will make it a chapter worth remembering.
One I will want to read again, and again.
The soul shatters upon death. Sentience fractures into a million variables that swirl chaotically into piercing eyes that melt into the color sadness, spinning into galaxies that shrink to the size of ants and you twirl in a blender of being for eternities until finally, at long last, something sticks. Perhaps it may be as simple as a strand of hair, nonetheless all possibility spins around it, flashing contradictions of rainbow transparencies, empty solids and polka dotted space, continuing until a second hair joins the first, clutching to the nothingness and refusing to move. Soon thousands of hairs arrive and synchronize above a scalp unto a face, torso, limbs… materializing ever faster… and at once you are born. And just as the memory of your trial and error experimentation and prior life evaporate, you embrace the arms of a stranger, gazing into her eyes, hung between this world and the next… sobbing in a fit of omniscience, in awe of your hard earned shape.
Jacob Reinhardt
10/15/2013
1. Mortality Recognition
2. Hedonism
3. Apathy
4. Restlessness
5. Historic Amnesia
6. Recklessness/Experimentation
7. Meta-Identity
It appeared on the doorpost as a Cyclops' smiley face
For some Cyclops WhatsApp icon, but red-themed application
Yes gruesome red, in contrast to the expectation
You would get from a smiley face, even for a Cyclops.
It quizzed my curiosity and I dug further on Google’s interface.
It appeared on the search page as the queen Isis,
Long told in Hieroglyphics, Cyrillic and Roman alphabet,
Patroness, mother, queen, blessings with love met,
But unlike these grim Arabic script in an ominous logo,
And tales of death, pain littered with deeper crises
It told of “nuun”, 14th letter of a blessed script
In which many beautiful and wise thoughts found life,
A letter which told of blessing and not of strife
Being in a position multiple of seven, a number blessed
By God Himself when he Earth and Heaven in 7 breaths whipped
It told of the Magen David, a shining star, which should be a good thing
Only that it brings memories of gaunt bodies piled in trucks
And human experimentation, and as history at our door knocks
And Isis or Isil opens to let in what we dread most
“Nuun” is stuck in my iris with pain and scary sting.
For I have seen the blank stare of heads painting in red drips the pickets
And Leonidas’ 300-style gore re-enacted in modern city streets
As heads are divorced from bodies and all around are scared heartbeats
For even bloodied child clothes cover head-less bodies,
As Christians are beheaded like one would roast crickets.
It brings back memories of my ancestors up in the Samba regions,
Fleeing the harsh choice given to them by the jihadists:
To adorn the village picket or join the cause of the Islamist,
Forced to create a third choice, which was to leave their homes,
Friends and family to pseudo-Islam or lurid lethal lesions.
Is it that time again for Iraqi Christians?
Shall the world once again watch the Red Indians’,Tutsis’, and Jews’
Story take gruesome form and hack through human sinews?
How many litres of innocent blood, and kilogrammes of hacked Christian flesh
Are needed to realise the vanity in the life of *****sapiens?
(c) Nyonglema
Sin Is Fun Until…
24 By faith Moses, when he had grown up, refused to be known as the son of Pharaoh’s daughter. 25 He chose to be mistreated along with the people of God rather than to enjoy the fleeting pleasures of sin. 26 He regarded disgrace for the sake of Christ as of greater value than the treasures of Egypt, because he was looking ahead to his reward. ” Heb 11:24-26 NIV
Sin Is Fun Until it binds us;
In bondage we find our souls.
No longer a choice but compulsion;
Ruin, shame and lost worthwhile goals.
Drugs and unlawful sex may be exciting,
Until they have taken their score.
The conscience is disbanded;
The frontal lobe of the brain ignored.
Right and wrong conduct unacknowledged;
Sanity and stability fades;
Sin Is Fun Until it controls us;
In lies and crime we wade.
Stealing from loved ones;
Ruining lives along the way;
Causing pain and utter ruin;
Numb, no desire to turn back or pray.
Sin Is Fun Until its season
Comes to a completion.
Death is the end result;
Hope of nothing but the 2nd resurrection.
Money all gone in pursuit of fleeting pleasure;
All friends lost because of the enemy.
Love a thing of the hazy past;
Destruction and degradation sin’s sanctuary.
Sin’s fun is a form of deception;
Satan’s tool for our eternal destruction.
Satan tempts with his own discernment;
Thousands of years of experimentation.
Don’t be tempted by pleasure for a season—
What is sin but a long term lie?
Sin Is Fun Until it bankrupts;
Controls us to destructively comply.
© Copyright 2012 Maureen LeFanue
www.maureenlefanue.com