Best Explicitly Poems


Premium Member Unsung Verse

What's behind the terse, unspoken sound
One that abruptly inserted a period
Invoking a sigh in the middle of a sentence

Was it the uneasy voice of her heart's lyrics
Announcing your song is still incomplete
Or ambivalence of despondent music
Reluctantly strumming devoid of melody

Perhaps it’s time for your bashful words
To complement echo of the unsung verse

Disclosing explicitly to her anxious world:

You saw it in the smile of her cheerful eyes
And heard it from symphony of dulcet vibes
And felt it in the ballet of her delicate touch
When she held you close in an intimate hug
While mellifluous whispers of love spoke 

December 8, 2021

Heart of Stone

A time may come, when heart, which is said to be a soft piece of flesh, turns to a stone. A stone beating in your chest doesn’t just free one but opens a shell with magnanimous appealing for solidarity from world. While a smile is wore on the pale face and sound of giggles made back and forth, loud enough, the sound is most relatable to a laughter, but , void of life and energy. In short the sinking holes under eyes which must had ‘v some time given way to a river and the crow lines, gaping emptiness of soul inside this rusting body explicitly trying to define itself in that lifeless forced laughter, but see, a smile and a puff of powder hides everything and frees the mind from the uncomfortable conversations one always want to avoid. So then, smile and wave, sit with a stone in your chest, and be very content with it, because a stone doesn’t feel, nor does it break. Here it is then, free from the conventionality and space in which you breathe, which pledges your personality though the luxuries and beauty on name of blessings, still be grateful on them and fly off from all the possible uncertainties, raging inner self. Then with time, slowly, this nourishment of terror leaves, but with a gift, a heart of stone.                       HN
© Hina Nasir  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Do What you Love Beautifully-Mixed

Written: March 2nd, 2024                                         3

Rumi's quote: Let the beauty of what you love, be what you do.
                 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Allow love to spur you in whatever you do,
Life's a canvas, awaiting artwork to ensue.
Ignite your passions and spark in the night,
Allow your soul to be your mentor, at full might. 

Allow nature splendor to serve as inspiration,
Exploring the cosmos with fascination.
Allow hues of sunset and budding flora to flow,
Assist you to paint art that makes souls glow.

Allow pristine music to lead your way,
whilst you empower melodies to play.
devote the beat to invigorate your soul,
Let music convey the soothing console.

Allow diction to flow fluidly from your pen,
You have skills to lustering tales echo again.
Allow your mind to flow freely, akin to a river,
Express out explicitly with words that shiver.

Allow euphoria of smiling at the scenery music,
As you put delight in each minor task you pick.
Maintain that your amusement is pervasive,
Send smiles to everyone's faces; be persuasive.

Allow mellifluous kinship to serve as an anchor,
facing various hurdles and rewards, or rancor.
May your ties be sturdy and your bonds deep,
Genuine friendship is a commodity to reap.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Love Sonnet for My Partner

I look upon my partner's shiny hair,
brushed with loving care, always short and chic.
I think how there's no one who can compare.
We understand - no need for us to speak.

She's loyal.  I trust her implicitly.
In troubled times, we have each other's back.
She never told me this explicitly,
but she loves me.  We don't need to keep track.

She lives in the moment, don't overthink.
Though she doesn't much care to clean or cook,
she appreciates dinner and a drink.
I fell in love with her in just one look.
 
You could say that my partner don't suck eggs.
On the other hand (paw?), she has four legs.

Premium Member The Muses



"The Muses"

Allusions 
camouflaged confessions 
I have read them all, each page

envelopes emptied
turned inside out 
pockets of Poésies 

they sprinkle their messages
like confetti, minds  popping 
like corks, frothy and overflowing

some kind celebration 
cupped and bled
stories of fairy-flossed confection

the sugar compote 
cooked in the head
before dreams

are laid 
and set

I have read them all
envelopes emptied 
inside out

Allusions
all skipping 
the fine lines 

locked and open
all sentences 
of the muses

a musing


Candide Diderot. ‘24 




"I found a grave
Brushed off the face
Felt your light
And I remember why I know this place
I found a bird
Closing her eyes
One last time
And I wonder if she dreamed like me

As much as it hurts
Ain’t it wonderful to feel?
So go on and break your wings
Follow your heart 'til it bleeds..."






allusion. n.
an expression designed to call something to mind without mentioning it explicitly; an indirect or passing reference

Quadrilateral Wall Violence

in the shape of maintenance 
there are four straight sided sides
lies of coper (copper) pipes 
to actually but not officially 
or explicitly choke the life 
out of me 
pigmented mutuality  
is credibility yours to kill 
come find me nosy enigmatic organization
(groups who solve puzzles)
while my grave is being dug 
clues to the find 
are not all in the same state 
rotting candor of honesty
i did lyric (write) and stopped breathing  

shape of maintenance 
four straight sides
of copper pipes 
actually but not officially 
choke the life 
out of me 
mutuality  
credibility to kill 
come nosy youthful institution of association
my grave is being dug 
clues to the find  
look states 
fumy honesty
lyric and not breathing


Year Zero

Cambodia, the Khmer Rouge movement, the leader Pol Pot,
Killed twenty-five percent of the population, a fact most people forgot.
To spare you is no profit, to destroy you is no loss,
That was the ideology of the evil boss.
Buddhist monks were killed and religion was banned,
No one was safe with this beast in command.
Children placed in labour camps, civil rights were abolished,
Schools and hospitals shut down, homes were demolished.
People getting shot for wearing glasses, laughing and even crying,
And if you spoke a foreign language you were definitely dying.
Slave labourers dying from overwork, malnutrition and executions,
While the U.K. gave the Khmer Rouge plenty of contributions.
Minority groups were targeted, Thai, Muslims, Christians and Vietnamese,
But they explicitly targeted the ethnic Chinese.
Millions of pounds from the U.K., millions of dollars from the states,
All working together in terror, they were the best of mates.
What Nixon and Kissinger began, Pol Pot completed,
And none of them ever showed remorse for all the people they mistreated.
© Wes Martin  Create an image from this poem.

Persuasions of a Sojourning Moon

Her supple and shapely silhouette rests submissively
as the luster upon the soft satin sheets arouses
sensual images of salaciousness beneath the sheen surface

My empty yet enduring eyes slowly engage the darkness
eager to embark upon the elusive lines energizing the elation
as a sojourning moon entices her to endear

Her excelling exuberance... exploited on exhalation
exposing her explicitly, exemplifying the excerpt
of an exonerated experience as the moonlight expires

Premium Member Before I Found You

Before I found you, I was wandering in the desert of solitude. You came to show me the way to happiness, to joy, the experience of love! I love you, a love without end! To say "I love you with a love without end... I love you, a pure love ... I love you with a passionate love... I love you explicitly, a love of infinite possibilities..." - it all seems redundant ... but the truth is that there is insufficient redundancy to express my feelings for you! What I desire for you day? You to be happier today than yesterday and less than tomorrow ... and I can participate actively in this process of happiness ... I love you so much!

Premium Member Mixed Blessings

Those of us
who have had guilty pleasures
of owning valuable real property,
like a car
and rental property
and office equipment

Office buildings,
solar inverters,
and nuclear holocaust delivery systems
but not privately owned MBA degrees
or merely intellectual property
or more intimately owned emotional properties,

Those of us
who know the mixed blessings
of owning organic and technocratic fragments
of climate pathologized,
yet still breathing, planet Earth,
especially if taxable property,
have heard about depreciation of values
over their natural/mechanical life/utility 
health/power time.

We might recall
depreciation of property value
decelerates more gradually as time marches forward,
barring any unfortunate head-on accidents,
flying and melting and fragmenting damage,
accelerating astronomical crises
eliminating long-term realistic health-wealth values.
Depreciated suddenly to total loss of asset value,
now a global junk-dealer liability.

Anyway,
just as depreciation decelerates over time,
appreciation accelerates empowering resilience 
with time's enduring health/wealth cooperative life-experience,

Organic systems accelerate 
robust cooperative integrity
over a deep learning nutritious multiculturing life-time
of Win/Win climax learning
deeply curving synergetic ego/eco-relationships,

Growing in good-humored co-investment priorities
for story telling and listening
to resonant fulfillment co-opportunities

Rather than continuing historic depreciated taking
and Win/Lose epic slow-losing ego/economic depressions,

Anti-systemic pathologies,
realistic predictions of global chaos.

Retributive injustice depreciations
slowly fade toward entropic disorganization,
just the suffering and loss opposite
of exponentially appreciative Win/Win compassion

Explicitly conscious
of living interdependently between and within
autonomously natural depreciative law 
and appreciative open-systemic/spiritual 
yang/yin multicultural
left/right psychological 
self/other empowering 
appreciative 
spiraling
deep listening and wide learning order
re-mixing depreciating curses
into old-aged exponentially appreciating blessings
of co-opportune climaxing climates.

Premium Member Bubbles and My Utopia

Early in the morning, I dutifully sat down, as Dragon thoughts began to swirl.
I was entering my Utopia, as Dragon from around my legs did slowly unfurl.
I sent him out to blow bubbles, for the early birdies… within to fly and whirl.
I would write a Dragon story… with a poem, fable, adventure, or comical twirl.

Then, in walked my adult boy child with a cup of java in his enveloping hands.
He would sooo, try to add reality into my world, or at least, try as hard as he can.
“Writing about me again?” he said. “You know Dragon is definitely about me!”
Here within, I answered, “He’s every man and child, as seen in his crazy antics!”
 
But would my adult boy child acknowledge this? No! Never! So very definitely!
“He’s younger than you,” I said. Look he has a bubble machine held in his hand.
“Now that’s something you never had!” I told him… Being so defiant, to the end.
“Hah! Hope they’re Baby Shampoo Bubbles, for they might get in the birdies eyes.

Not letting him see, I wrote that down. Then tried to get back to my Utopian guise.
I sent Dragon to fill the birdbath, so his friends could in a bubble bath, gently soak.
My son again interceded, “What will they drink?” when they are done there…
“The lake is right over there,” I began to fussily answer to my adult boy child!

Then wondered when he had grown up so much, to have left fantasy, so far behind.
Ah, but give him another year or two, and he would again be right there by my side.
His second childhood couldn’t be, very far ahead, my Hubby did definitely agree. 
He is our child, after all. Tho he takes after his Grandma A Lot! Reality explicitly!

But, as my child when off to play, while on his vacation, his serial video games…
I knew there was still hope aplenty; after all, at 25 year old, they were still games.
So as Dragon went off to help the penguins, up into their birdbath… bubble bath…
I went back to my Utopia, to actually write about my son, as he’d complained about.

 Hah, Hah… For so long… at long last.

Written 3-26-2017 For Tim Smith with thoughts on how fast…our children grow up.

Premium Member Like Fish In Water

Like fish
for whom water might have transparent invisibility 
of an untroubled healthy atmosphere

So too,
our prime bicameral compassionate relationship
is also
our SpiritualMind/NaturalBody Win/Win first love
and last Truth AND Beauty 
Passion AND Pleasure hope

For ever-more polyculturing climate health,
and not degenerative Win v Lose 
monoculturing 
LeftHemisphere dominant
monotheistic 
monopolistic
monolithic
monotonously predictable
caste-preserving monstrous pathology.

That being so,
if indeed I have this Left AND Right balanced accurately,
conserve/progress polypathically,
economically and politically,
ecologically,
then health optimization 
for LeftBrain ego-caste conservation
AND RightBrain eco-caste liberation

can never settle for tolerating
pluralistic InEgo v OutEco caste-preserving voices,
instead, using these emergent compromised choices
toward discerning WinEgo/WinEco 
panentheistic co-passionate pleasure.

This could be true within a humaneMind/diviningBody individual,
within sacred/organic extensive families 
living in and on EarthShelters

within natural dynamic-enspirited, 
cooperatively-owned and managed economies,
and between politically incorporated governments,
as it is true within any regeneratively trending healthy ecosystem,
explicitly thought,
and implicitly felt,
Crown conserving
and Root liberating our nondualist
ego/eco-arising journey
toward Win/Win healthy inside safe environments,
like fish in ecotherapeutic waters.

Just as "no air" environmental awareness
feels safe for a fish

Just as "no water" environmental awareness
feels safe for human lungs

Just as organic "belonging" awareness
feels Anthropocene safe
from desecrating trauma triggers.

Premium Member The Coward

Cowards die many times before their deaths…
Julius Caesar, Act II, Scene 2 ~William Shakespeare

spouse 
a souse 
classic grouse 
a big girl's blouse

portent ominous 
assertions blasphemous   
obscure and anonymous 

his skulking is nefarious 
utterances acrimonious
and implicature often dubious 

uxorious but still pusillanimous 
**********************************

An example of a rhopalic verse.
Rhopalism: A rhopalic sentence is one in which each successive word is one letter longer than the previous one. In poetry: where each word is one syllable more, or it might increase each line in a stanza by one syllable (per my example), or a metric foot. 

IN THE SAME CATEGORY OF CONSTRAINED WRITING
The Rhopalic Couplet, also called Wedge Verse, was first used by Homer in the Iliad (3.182). It is a poetic unit of 2 rhopalic lines where each word progresses adding one more syllable than the preceding word in the line, for example, 1, 2, 3, 4 … syllables. The sequence of the syllable count can be identical in the second line, or it may be reversed. The couplet does not need not rhyme.
_____________________________________________________________

In The Coward, stanzas are broken up along the syllables of the end rhymes: spouse, souse, grouse, blouse; om-i-nous, blas-phe-mous, a-non-y-mous; ne-far-i-ous, ac-ri-mo-ni-ous, du-bi-ous & pu-sil-lan-i-mous. 

LEXICON
acrimonious: (adj) (typically of speech or discussion) angry and bitter.
a big girl’s blouse: British idiom, meaning someone is ineffectual or weak; someone failing to show masculine strength of determination
disposition: (n.) inherent characteristics.
grouse: (n.) one who complains constantly. 
implicature: (n.)* the action of implying a meaning beyond the literal sense of what is explicitly stated, for example, saying the picture frame is nice and implying I don’t like the picture. 
innate: (n.) inborn, natural
nefarious: (adj) (typically of an action or activity) wicked or criminal.
portent: (n.) 
1. a sign or warning that a momentous or calamitous event is likely to happen, an omen.
2. (literary) an exceptional or wonderful person or thing. [‘What portent can be greater than a pious notary.’] 
pusillanimous: (adj) showing a lack of courage or determination; timid.
souse: (n.) a drunkard.

My Love

My Love



I love you much, my love, therefore I beg you
Give me that which till today, nobody have asked you
Don’t puzzle, I hope, you’ll help me in this regard
Best beloved and well wishers have supplied essentials
Of lovers always if we turn back too pages of history

Don’t worry; I'm not hurting you demanding your life
Your assets, requires you much rather than to me
I don’t care darling what other guys evaluate upon my asking
Because I don’t see more valuable things than that 
Which can easily, you can offer me

Even it doesn't hold any cost just some dedications 
Which till today no one has dared to offer?
I love you heartily so I want to take stand in this regard
Projecting out as if in the hill some inscriptions in ridges
To draw the attraction of demonstrators 

Don’t afraid, I’m not wishing you to make you show piece
To others at you or my cost, you’re my every thing
Why should I believe you in that easy way?
Definitely my intuition invokes me from within
You will offer me that instinct for my pleasure

Cause, I've noticed in your bright appearance
Deliverance of love is in different mode
Your juvenile desiring to oblige somewhere in the custom
I believe, as we are reared in the same village
In the same brink of the river.

Many times we have rained with completely
Our cows and herds also could not differ them
Swollen brooklets have helped us to unite body
Catching in hand hugging you and adding your body with mine
While crossing you know we used to become one

You can guess your feeling would have crossed the height of Himalayas
To understand, what body wants to be done? 
Your drowned eyes and dropping down drops of water
Used to provoke effort

Beyond that down through the throat, running paths for drenched water
Was explicitly witness, the curved part would be seizing more for that
As a trunk of elephant’s those beautiful thighs
Used to give witnessing purity ascribe for judgement of love

Slowly, crossing plain, stepping towards hills and 
Demarcation of two grassy lanes, when used to welcome
To separate, I know my pinches would cleave you
With high breathe. My love, I love you, I confirmed my decision to you.

Premium Member Yang Light's Yin Power

I was reading Lakoff's story
of what he learned at Berkeley
about international relations,
when I found my RightBrain offering further nuance;
not to deny what is here,
but to add what is also here,
but not explicitly stated,
about regenerative political health 
and economic safety.

"The 'rational' approach to foreign policy was governed by a set of conceptual metaphors,
taken as simple common sense,
as [Both-And, not Either-Or] metaphors often are.
As a special case of An Institution
is a Person, [personification]
there was A Nation is a [monotheistic, monopolistic, monocultural] Person."

"In addition,
a common metaphor for [EitherPositive-OrNegative, 0-sum] rationality is used,
namely,
Rationality is the Maximization of Self [v Other]-Interest (or 'utility' [and 'integrity']),
which entails that it is 'irrational' [and unhealthy and unsafe] to act against one's self-interest[s].
These two metaphors are then combined to yield:
A [Healthy, Happy, Secure] Nation is a Rational [Either-Or, not Both-And] Actor."

"...we get as an entailment
the central thesis of the rational actor model 
in international [interfamilial, intertribal, interspecies, inter-religious] relations:
Every [healthy] nation
acts rationally
to maximize its military [Yang] strength,
economic health,
and [Self v Other] political influence."

"Rationality,
on this conception,
is taken as
[Self v Other, 0-sum competitively] universal
and occurring at the level
of the [monotheistic-monocultural, monopolistic] state."

I feel so eviscerated.

Get over it.
Both-And co-empathic;
not either-or pathological.
You've still got all your caste-preserving potential
just more Both +1Self And -(-0)Other co-aligned.

Yes ma'am!
Who got out of bed on the wrong side today?

Don't even try it.

I'm going back to my "Political Mind" without you.

Doubtful.
And, if possible, dangerous.

You really aren't going to let me have the last word today are you?

I thought I was your last wordless wonder,
your wandering everything.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace