Best Experimented Poems
She is like rain, scattered drops but when it falls it's soothing.
She is like soil, so hard but keeps your soul holding.
She is like fire, which burns but turns you shining.
She is contentment, invisible but when in you is pleasing.
She is like nothing, when she is not you too are nothing.
She is constant, yet comes in goes out being in harmony.
She is convoluted, always formed deformed, evolving dissolving in symphony.
She is magical, appearing like wonder- blunder, ugly beauty diaphony.
She is science, as been experimented observed deduced in cosmogony.
She is eternal, around you, in you, is you, present-omni (XX/XY).
Dear Poetry Children
Born from a need
to be heard and understood,
my poems were at one time
like my children.
Their number was not large,
so they were precious to me.
Years passed, and then it seemed
I was almost grand-mothering
old stories and old feelings,
for they kept re-emerging
but in different ways.
Some came skating in iambic
as on and on and on and on and on
they came along.
Some could hang my moon
with the magic of metaphors
while many others
appeared plain-spoken
and crystal lucid like stars.
Others, feeling more like stepchildren,
appeared less rhythmically,
so different were they
from my firstborns;
I loved them all the same,
adopting their characteristics
as I experimented with my creations
more and more.
I took notice of and appreciated
other poets’ lovely children.
Meanwhile, new thoughts and
changing values and ideas
began to flow from me.
Small new poems
emerged from the womb
of my muse in the forms
of haiku, tanka, sijo, cinquain,
and so many others.
Laughingly, limericks arrived.
With sweet refrains came triolet,
rondeau, kyrielle,
villanelle, and quatern,
skipping right along.
It isn’t easy to continue
propagating poetry prolifically.
But as long as my mind
stays relatively fertile
with passion of sentiments and beliefs,
I’ll continue to bring forth
(sometimes with great labor)
The poetry children
I so much enjoy
creating in
my image.
Sigmund Freud
Father of psychoanalysis employed
Experimented with cocaine, hoping for fame
Instead got congested nose and chest pain
Whence diplomacy fails mankind.
Soldiers amassed with patriotic duties to fulfill.
Some willing, some underaged, some desperate.
Weaponry and vehicular production overdriven.
Military strategies drafted that await execution.
Prayers flood the heavens, farewell letters penned vigorously.
None prepared for what’s to come, sweet talk is all they have.
Come dawn, they depart for the frontlines.
Unto the battlefield where the enemy lies.
One step forward and all hell breaks loose.
Gunshots pierce, artillery’s shrapnel far-reaching.
Mangled corpses sprawled for families to mourn.
Commands roared but not followed for fear fuels the men.
Chaos ensues ruthlessly with no end in sight.
Death and blood saturates the gruesome battlefield.
Oh dear God, do you hear the cries of sorrow?
Oh dear God, do you see your land blood-brimmed?
Who will you aid when good and evil are indiscernible?
Countries conquered, engulfed by terror and atrocities.
Air raids never ending, bomb shelters becoming the second home.
Civilians contemned, slaughtered like pigs, experimented on like rats.
Prisoners of War starving to the bones as they labor restlessly.
Anguish ever present but naught can be done to rid it.
Oh dear God, do you witness the atrocious brutality?
Oh dear God, will you show them mercy and end their misery?
Homeward, anxiety ravages mercilessly like a plague.
Will my beloved return for college?
Will my darling return to love?
Will my dearest return to tuck me in?
Answers undetermined for life preaches uncertainty.
Politicians stand unscathed whilst comrades lay crippled.
In the perpetual bid for peace, the world drowns in blood.
soft
dew drops
quivering
on lotus leaves
lithe jui flowers sprawled
white orange-hued buds
clouds glide tangerine sky
koels croon symphony
mehndi bushes
faint fragrant
birds soar
free
Written on August 9, 2021
Note: Experimented with this descriptive verse of two stanzas - starts with one word, one syllable - goes up to six lines with six syllables (increasing syllables). Second stanza vice versa - begins with six, and it ends with one word, one syllable (decreasing).
FIRST PLACE
A Brian Strand 1 to 14 lines Poetry contest
The Atomic Café stays with me, over
even the most perfect of days.
I think about the arrogance of power
and how most people live in a daze.
I think on the geniality of the average citizen,
how willing, how trusting, how guileless they are.
The salt of the earth, reasonable men,
seen by their politicians as game that is fair.
Fair as in good pickings.
Fare as in someone who will pay.
Fair as in these are just the midlings.
Fair as in to assume they will do what we say.
I am sick to death of a society
that divides up into predator and prey.
One group seeking only comfort and security
and the other group seeks only power and display.
Who were these men of the Fifties,
that explained to us as if we were children,
that, yes, we could destroy whole cities,
but, yes, atomic power could also save men.
We bought their maps and graphs and cute cartoon
of jovial Mr. Atom and how he could help us,
while in hospitals these devious men of doom
experimented on innocents with plutonium inserts.
They explained at great length the threat from outside,
moved trusting men at will with just the sound of a siren,
sprayed cities with virus to see how it spread and subside.
gave acid to the unknowing to see how it affected the brain.
They demonstrated with a flourish the benefits of "our system"
and we in our search for comfort bought a new car and color TV.
They felt free in our bought silence not to mention Iran,
Guatemala, or black budgets we were not allowed to see.
All these are quite obvious some fifty years past.
Those guilty men at least thought it necessary to explain
their actions and are with us no longer. Their descendants at last
have clearly learned the game, our understanding of issues is lame.
The public, once bought, has no need for explanation, or outcome.
Constant fear is now the new game.
We all now mutter platitudes of gain and freedom,
and live our lives as if they both mean the same.
This smooth brown coloured ecstasy …
this soft textured sweetness of delight,
melts gently on the taste buds evenly,
satisfying passion with every loving bite.
Thank you to the Aztec Indians
of more than a thousand years ago,
who experimented with the cocoa bean,
and passed on an obsession we all know.
The roasting bean and smoothest liquor
waft overriding through the open air,
with sugar, cocoa butter, milk powder;
the most adorable of food is blending there.
I am proud to say that I’m addicted
to this mouth-watering of sweets,
beginning after morning breakfast
through until my bedtime treats.
Coated almonds, flaked, over biscuits,
dark roasted, full cream, milky white;
a cup of cocoa made with hot milk -
then dreams of chocolate through the night.
Silence is Golden
In a laboratory in a far away place called
Lahore
Was a mad scientist, who experimented
Offshore
He fiddled and fuddles deep inside his lab
Making clones of his glorious self
Thinking they mighty fine lads
He cloned twenty or thirty or a hundred and more
All chattering and gabbing, their master they adore
Oh yes, he’s the mad scientist from Lahore
He has many accolades for he had many votes
He cloned so many, democracy was a joke
But the governor caught on
And saw through the clouds
Something was evil under the shroud
Banished he was to the prison of deception
Hopefully he will clone no more fake conceptions
Look how far we've come! What would have taken months of perilous voyage now just takes hours of mundane leisure. At your fingertips lies countless options of entertainment: music, movies, games.
But looking out the window I can't help but bob my head to ELO's Mr. Blue Sky (why indeed did you hide away so long, Mr. Blue?). Wouldn't it be hilarious if my flight neighbor woke up and saw my Jay-Leno-esque head and NO ear buds? Each time I notice her stretching out her arms I wonder; is she yawning or reaching for the call button? "Yes, ma'am, there's a horribly spastic man sitting next to me. Could you kindly ask him to stop or at least transfer him to another seat?". Wouldn't that be something? It's not all that unlikely though. I'm surprised they don't boot me off right now. "And we at Delta would like to wish you a very safe and pleasant swim! Coffee or tea?".
Sure would save time just wearing a giant button that said that. It'd also give those poor girl's facial muscles a break. Just HOW many hours are spent wearing that plastered on smile?
Originally the Wright Brothers experimented with the idea of flying, simply for convenient's sake, and relentless human curiosity. Imagine if I were to trade places with one of them right now. I wonder what he'd think of the lady, near the front, indulging in a ginger ale. "Well at least they have good drinks on this flight!". It's hard to fathom what Mr. Wright might say...
NOTE: This came to me while on my flight back to the states...
Let me tell you a story ...
The story of Wolverine is so vast that I would need much more space,
though, I will tell you what I have gathered about this man;
he was born in Alberta, Canada in 1832 and named James Howlett,
but, he is really a fictional character of Marvel Comics.
Marvel created a mutant human with superior animal-keen senses,
enhanced physical capabilities and healing regeneration;
and three huge retractable claws and each hand- a ferocious force,
though, he had a brooding nature ... a loner with a temper.
He was born to rich farmers but found out his mother had an affair,
and he was the result- he kills his father and runs away;
ending up mining in the Yukon and changes his name to Logan,
he accidently kills his girlfriend and flees to the wilderness.
There he lives with wolves until he is captured and put in a circus,
he escapes and lives with the Blackfoot people of Canada;
in time, joining the military- held captive and experimented on,
becoming an agent trained by the Canadian government.
But he is unstable, his past murky, and he is difficult to control,
he appears in countless comics, either solo, or with X Men;
X Force, Alpha Flight, Fantastic Four, Avengers and many more,
sadly, he does die from suffocation by a horrible potion.
The potion is a hardening adamantion created by a Dr. Cornellius
Wolverine, Logan, James Howlett dies- kneeling in the sunset;
unknown to him he has a son that he never knew existed,
the son, becomes the new Wolverine of the Ultimate Universe.
Of course, comics tend to change the story ...
______________________
January 30, 2023
Poetry/Narrative/Wolverine
Copyright Protected, ID 01- 1522-182-30
All Rights Reserved, 2023, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Marvel Superhero Or Supervillian
sponsor, Robert James Liguori, Judged 02/20/2023
First Place
Between grains of ancient fine sand
desert roses hidden from sight—
Colourful, exquisitely fanned.
They formed in darkness; pressure shaped.
Each perfect corolla agape
in floral whorl of sharp crescents;
fluorescent and phosphorescent.
Against injustices they railed—
within shed tears, I saw their plight.
In our moral duty we’ve failed.
Their troubled spirits to immerse
in laughter which abounds in verse.
Pococurante obedience.
Parting: an Aubade in a sense.
POET'S NOTE
Updated 25th Aug with the mosaic rhyme in the final two lines:
obedience & Aubade in a sense.
Recommended reading: Desert rose selenite/gypsum.
POETIC FORM: Saraband sonnet (I used the BASIC French rhyme scheme, extended).
The Saraband(e) derives its name from a fast erotic dance of the 1500s of Mexico and Spain which originated in the East. It is a stanzaic form imitating the dance steps and written in any number of septets. The various forms consist of tercets (axa—‘x’ being unrhymed) or triplets (aaa); the chief difference being in the rhyme schemes of the quatrains: English (axa bcbc), Spanish (aaa bcbc), Italian (axa bccb OR aaa bccb), and French (only axa bbcc). Each subsequent stanza repeats the rhyme scheme set in the first stanza, but in the longer Saraband poems it is not unusual to mix Spanish, Italian and/or French septets. Any metrical foot; any metrical line—some authorities insist on octal syllabic lines rendering it minor art (= 8 syllables per line) but this is not cut and dry.
Saraband Sonnet: It comprises 2 septets. Rhyme scheme: It depends on the form chosen. In the sonnet form, the rhyme schemes have been extended for the French variant (aZa in the tercets where 'z' rhymes), and Italian variant (aba cddc—thus, an addition ‘b’ in the tercets). Some examples can be found where the rhyme scheme for the second septet is progressive. It may be octasyllabic, iambic or trochaic tetrameter, or an extra foot (iambic pentameter) may be added to conform to the basic sonnet. The volta is at L8. I have experimented with the rhyme scheme: aza bbcc, dzd eeff.
Do you think this world needs some mending? Anger, vice, hate abounds.
Take a good look, wars, killing, famine, and diseases pestilence, all around.
What this world needs is love, something man will never know.
Carnal selfish man wanting what he knows not, getting through life somehow.
Our Father long ago scattered men to the far ends of this earth, confusing men and languages.
The thing that men forget? It’s the Father, He has the final say, all the rest is gibberish.
The Eternal stands above and observes His creation, the fallen man.
God the Father in His infinite wisdom experimented with carnal man, gave him choices, Understand?
With His choice Adam ate from the tree of knowledge not the tree of life.
Adam, in his carnal mind wanted what God had the tree of knowledge, the serpent tricked the wife.
Willy, deceitful, evil Spirit one that sinned in His vanity, was cast to this earth.
Waiting treacherously for Eve to make Adam make the choice, God knew this was going to happen even before Adam’s birth.
The Holy Bible, God’s plan, His mystery reveals that’s so, God wanted Adam’s obedience and His love.
A gift, the tree of life the way to true happiness, from God above.
You can’t have lukewarm faith, like Adam’s, remembering God’s plan is for us to enter the Kingdom it’s our choice.
The Supreme One God, a patient tolerant loving Spiritual Father, He wants your Spiritual happiness and voice.
Adam by choice failed so his children were doomed to physical, emotional, ailing, sickness and death.
God made us in His image He put in Adam a special place, gave him life and his first breath.
Our Father is everywhere He gives His love to whomever he chooses, now, you as a part of that seed, what will you do?
Make worldly things important, or take heed and make the choice to obey God’s laws and return to the Kingdom that the Father has made for me and you?
Our Father the true God of this universe, His “Word” has stood the test of time,
To obey the deceiver of men and his fallen angels is the real crime.
Jesus had the choice, and He died for our sins and stood spiritually strong.
Our Father, The Holy Spirit, and Jesus are there for us, He wants to be obeyed and keep us safe and spiritually strong.
Even in the shadows need for a Hero
Out of the Passions of the darkest night
No one explained that he was a zero
One of the populists frame trapped and convicted imprisoned
For crimes he did not commit
While his wife tragically murdered for crimes she did commit
Cage as a wild animal empowered to be of power strong
Massive body Herculean statue experimented on in prison
Was meant to be a division creating something to be controled by evil so corrupt What is meant for the people to represent
The Intercity needs the hero for the use of destruction
To believe in he was enslaved imprisoned to come out caged
Luke Cage hero For Hire Power Man Avenger Defender
Of the ghetto classes his mission
The fight of Injustice for the poor and miss guided
Impoverished bulletproof man superhero and
Defender of the power list came from the ghetto
The name of this fellow hero for hire Luke Cage
He's a big brother for all others
When you feel the rage call on ....Luke Cage
The graveyard was melting.
in the shadows of nightfall.
Darkness and death
are my fear my kryptonite.
Yet I walked into the iron gate
creaking like old bones.
I needed to find you
I know you lived here now.
I could feel our friendship still calling me?
In all the darkness I saw a light
a small flickering flame.
It was on your headstone.
I knew it was yours.
Your mother had lit a candle for you today.
I knelt down and kissed the granite
with your name?
Not in prayer
it was too late for that.
Only whispering “Hello my old friend”
quietly so no other ghost can hear me?
I tossed on a playlist from the old days.
And sat down for a chat like always.
Remember we were almost thirteen
We got detention for refusing to
Stop wearing black everything.
and wearing black lipstick?
We knew were special then
more than girlfriends
More than sisters
we were us forever.
We learned how to drink cheap wine.
Get drunk together and get over hangover.
You taught me to smoke
until I was green and sick.
Remember college we got out of that boring
Home town with a single traffic light.
We danced partied and learned sex?
Experimented with drugs it was crazy
I don’t know how we survived.
You were filled with hidden sickness
I was to the brim crazy.
But we did.
at twenty two we got better?
You moved away and I went home.
I heard you married a woman.
Why did you never tell me you were gay?
I would have married you in a heartbeat.
I called you to get together for a reunion.
Bring your wife I said?
But you were already
starting to leave this world.
I met a friend in coffee shop the other day.
She told me you were gone
I asked gone where?
She looked at the floor just GONE.
So here I am sweetie
Do you remember anything that day?
Except the sudden chest pain
The lack of oxygen.
Did you remember me?
That’s when my tears came
Wetting the granite stone.
You know I always have loved you.
And it’s just not the same in crazyville
without you.
As if in answer to me
The moon peeped from behind a cloud.
And shone onto us in a beam.
I kissed her farewell
And walked away into the darkness.
God
Need
Your help
Feeling lost
Somber clouds loom mind
Clouding and impairing the thoughts
Seeking divine light, shining with a powerful force
Experimented only after feeling despondency in maximum expression
4-23-2016