Best Expressively Poems
Mister Elvis Presley
Sang his songs expressively
In Aloha From Hawaii,
He sang them just for me, aieee!
I was 15 when he sang just for me
Straight from Hawaii via TV,
My heart skipped a beat,
I jumped from my seat,
His music had changed my reality.
Elvis has now left the building,
Gone is the music and gilding;
He died much too young,
How many songs left unsung?
Spiritual stagnation staggers senses
Insidious insanity of intermittent information
Gruesome gorging of gossips
Nauseating nature of narcissistic news
Oppression of other opinions
Flouting false faithfulness freely
Transparent traitors of truth
Hypocritical hype of haters
Evildoers exemplifying egregiousness
Transgressive territorial targets
Investigation into innocent itineraries
Mercilessly manipulating mainstream
Evidence effectively to expressively
Symbolize significant sign of the times
April 25, 2018
Sign of the Times Contest By John Hamilton
Third Place
Sing a new song,
In laughing notes of light,
Falling soft as the dawn,
Sighing joy through each midnight,
Feelings glistening like the stars,
Assembled in skies, inspiring…
Playing gentle like old guitars
Reassuring the moments so alive…
Sing a new song,
One full of grace and hope,
Kissed by eternal flames,
Igniting the heart who’ll cope…
With darkness and betrayal,
All the shame of a past
Shadowed by ugliness,
Knowing the melody, so steadfast.
Sing a new song,
Breathed by a soul who glows,
With peace and kindness, stirred…
By the music real love will silently compose,
Music so beautiful and inspiring,
The heart feels like it has been moved,
Brought the gift of tender devotion,
Scattered by harmony that joy has proved…
Sing a new song,
Arise to meet the winds silent gusts,
Whispering through the oaks and pines,
Awakening dreams the heart trusts,
Fulfilling the night’s breathless need…
With a flowing tenderness, the belief
Wisdom showered by snowcapped dreams,
Quietly playing in euphonious relief….
Sing a new song,
In lavender sunsets, painted impressively,
Caressing the skies with bold hues of praise,
Rousing the life with grace so expressively,
Encouraging featherless angels,
Those who need only be known by the gentle
Way they divide moments with light,
Feelings so alive, immense, simply monumental.
Sing a new song,
Pouring like rain falling peaceful
Across the soul who sees the beauty,
Flooding minds, souls, with the easeful,
Sounding more like the rustling of leaves,
Dancing quietly on the autumn day,
Painting the moments, hesitating…
Erasing the pains of darkness’ dismay,
Sing a new song,
Remember the soothing tones,
Intimate like the trembling birth,
Flowing over the smooth stones…
Inviting the soul to flow
With enlightenment who drowns out…
The fears, the tears, the slow,
Easy silence – graceful as love’s fallout.
Sing a new song,
And I’ll sing along – blending voices,
Blending love, so alive –
Like the soul’s light, so many choices…
Will I never know the harmony,
That comes to life for the heart who hears…
Love sung to the heart who believes,
Poetic notes, significant as Shakespeare’s
O, dear poetry, how old are you?
give me a glimpse, The Story of Sinuhe
the art just might predate literacy,
before the birth of the written word, BCE
Tale of the Shipwrecked Sailor the eldest fictious
the Epic of Gilgamesh on papyrus
the world’s oldest love poems, verselets
Homer’s ancient epics
Compositions made for spoken word
I finally found out from all I’ve heard
what my dear poetry means to me
the love of artistic lyrical spontaneity
learning of words using them expressively
or impressively, excessively, whatever it takes
with poetic license, there are no mistakes
Works that lead to electric elucidation
with rhythmic flow, meter and alliteration
my primo priority is; my poem pieces make sense,
with rhyme and my love for classic cadence
having the quality of amatory ambiguity,
steered adrift with ominous obscurity
strapping images of suggestive metaphors
I’ll write to inspire as do the troubadours…..
Color is a unique sensation/,
Color doesn't sense.
Senseless color is.
Is color one way or the other?
Color may not be what it is.
It may not be what color is—either.
Expressively cliched, color isn't always black and white.
Why devil within the lines of this wall?
This is wall the color really is.
Wall color is chosen.
We simply paint here.
Rainbows contain primary color.
That is standard color opinion.
They colored.
We copied them.
Let's re-invent the wheel.
I believe in that.
That re-invent isn't grammatically justifiable.
More descriptive and less coloring; are many other fun words.
Color letters with a new; improved model.
Call it may.
Color it gray.
Say may color gray call it happy day today tomorrow and maybe re-shape yesterday.
Color which way you may.
No amount is required no less no more.
Allow how color now—meow.
Color these blind and laugh in loud without making any such sound found on flat ground color round.
Dollop a scoop of skinny hint belly button lint and glue color to it.
New colors are sluu, slah, vert, Iopa, wible
Shall we double new dripples?
Color isn't tame.
Black is what and white is lame.
Lupa-vert sluu-slah and wibble are what it is.
My personal invention describing details indeed.
Upgraded in colored eyes are now noeen-Lupa skies shooting moon wibble dream.
Noeen pupils iris of opaque euqapo.
Grooped krad etihw...
Confusing when you learn about color.
Trick is allowance.
Tolerate my perception however reverse.
-sdrawkcaB-
11-13-15
Hmm...What Discursive Poetic Theme Shall I Write About...
Today (a rather brisk, chilly,
and otherwise sat
tiss factory twirly delightful
December 18th, 2018) matte
her of fact quite
refreshing noontime, while this fat
tend plot of Earthen surveyed terrain
situated over scat
herd modest suburban tract,
(actually yours truly some watt
urbanely sprawled out) at
Latitude: 40.2538 Longitude: 75.4590,
where I sit pat
and think to write
about some reading material flat
touring my "FAKE" status
as king of agitprop for chat
hurrying class gussied up with
artistically crafted rat
tilly done up snazzy razz mutt tazz
(approved by Willard), this expat
lapsed Peterson harried tailored script,
asper previous peculiar
swiftly styled idée fixe
literary unnecessary, rat
tickly tawdry superfluity)
interspersed with dollops of splat
hard logophile, nonetheless gentle
on the eyes, yet feeling totally flat
and devoid of meaning, and quite
convincingly desperate idea this pratt
tilling far amore in the dell doth
expatiate, expound expressively, gnat
cheerily witty, (i.e. hint- please
pretend these humph fat
tickle lee meandering, rambling,
and warbling words) taxing
on mental faculty as bat
tan gruelling death march
physically, when circa
April 1942 Japanese forced
76,000 captured Filipinos,
and Americans Allied
soldiers to march about 80 miles across
Bataan Peninsula (province
in Philippines), where they died
enroute to...during World War II
on island of Luzon, espied
as a spiritual sanctuary hosted
by a knowledgeable tour guide
named Matthew Scott hood dons
genuine (musty smelling)
Tory wig to hide
as an alien alias (from the outer limits
of the twilight zone) incognito
even to himself, and especially the bride
of Frankenstein, who evinces a strong crush
toward said nondescript gentrified
vested gentry groundless thinker with pride
though, dirt poor (at least on the surface),
but deep down rich with
Schwenksville well watered
history harkening back to 1684,
when hoodwinked, jilted and lied
Lenni-Lenape Indians got fleeced
then taken for a ride
this land ceded to (stolen from) William Penn
nestled along the Perkiomen Creek.
NOBLE
ADMIRABLE EXCELLENCE
ACHIEVED THROUGH PERSEVERENCE
PRAISEWORTHY ENDURANCE EXPRESSIVELY HUMBLE
NOBLE
The diversity of beliefs have collectively demoralized
the sanctity of attaining wisdom and respectfully sharing
the exchange of knowledgeability by compartmentalizing creativity.
This makes us..............................
willingly grasp onto the idea of fighting and murdering to
expressively uphold what is fundamentally a moralizing of humanity.
Instead of communicating uncertainty to keep things simply
as beautiful as they were to start with.
When you do your own research and hold no preference,
think freely and critically, that's enough for the world.
The ones who want to work hard, provide, and allow others
to decide how to live their lives. The ones that do not judge and
are only inspired by the weaving of individuality that creates this
painting of adversity within a natural environment will succeed.
We are smart enough to know that these men in ties telling lies
making us believe the TV has the answers or you need to earn
and spend monies that are impractically fabricated and blind us
from working like slaves for their manipulated, corrupt economy
that concedes in an illusory connectedness called consumerism.
Or, social issues that brainwash you into thinking that their fear
mongering gives you a sense of identity. Without identifying
their symbols of devilry they saturate in every necessity they
presumably provide for you that came free from the earth.
If everyone would live like they knew they were going to die,
the one and only certainty in life, then the intangibles in life become
clear, it's sitting right upon your nose, the rose colored lens' are
cleansed and the colors, the beauty, the smells, the smiles,
the kindness and caring, the recognition of a resolution to suffering,
and our purpose to help ourselves is through helping others,
THAT is enough to make a change.
Preface to this brief bitty
written snap ting snapshot – word ditty
dates back before I reached gritty
age of eight and fifty, aye recall a kitty
rescued by my youngest sister, who took pity
and felt aghast,
at a potential cruel fate no witty.
Upon return home from an Antioch College coup
(so many diverse work experiences required -
some involving offal goop
i.e. case in point being this anecdote,
which may fall outside the loop
of common “hands on
off fish shawl” employment,
thee tasks on par with handling poop
stoically accepted by Shari Todd
(name of said sibling),
who when home from Davis, California
(albeit temporarily, and before she returned
to Yellow Springs, Ohio) divulged
how she did scoop
dread, dreck, dregs, et, cetera –
i.e. by product amidst fish farm
didst set her dead against being linkedin
purr animal cruelty, thus play role of troop
er – which tummy
earned her kudos a resounding whoop!
* * * * * * * * * * *
Before launching into this poem purr say
lemme mention how thine late mother
took an immediate affinity and hence no delay
that this lucky creature became akin to a bebe.
Main Coon, Felis catus, nicknamed Boozie
raccoon features, face mask, brown thick costume
handsome boy, affectionate personality, expressively vocal
Pink wet nose, emerald eyes, pointed ears
cavernous mouth, sharp teeth, rough tongue
striped design, massive fluffy fur, bushy tail
Soft paws, padded cushions, retractable blades
wild animal, predation urge, survival instinct
agile movement, swift motion, unfortunate victim
Door prize, flies feast, whitened bones
loyalty strong, pageant display,
splayed across kitchen table courtly dignity
Quiet house, sonar sounded, Cheshire upward smile
purred softly, rubbed legs, warm vacant lap
Jumping agility, firmly sequestered
Contentment expressed, internal hum, reciprocal therapy
beautiful petsmart, little monkey, comfortably sleeps
peaceful slumber, wakeful stretch, ideal life
Fortunate intervention, cat whisker to demise,
brush avoided becoming piscine meal,
kingly privileged role, heartfelt love.
My keyboard is an extension
of my soul; every key I punch
reveals muted intimacy
by contriving words and phrases
given voice through recitation.
An intimacy in peril
especially in poetry
where I lay bare emotions and
thoughts to catholic criticism.
Nevertheless, I do not write
expressively for consensus;
if I did, the first bad review
would force me to give up writing
and seek a different endeavor.
I recently read a beautifully written article
By a father who suddenly recognize how the excess time he spends with technology
Has negatively affected his young daughter
He went on to chide himself and our culture for being too busy
Wrote expressively the importance of being present to one another
He made wonderful points in an elegant manner
But as I finished the article I never realized that he never said
What he was going to do about it
He didn’t seem to have an action plan
I have done the same thing in my life
I may recognize an area in my life that is out of balance
Feel guilty about it
Even promise myself that I will make a change
Yet never get around to it
It is only when I take time to prayerfully reflect to my resistance
My fear
My insecurity and turn to God that I know I am serious about changing my behavior
The poet sat perplexed at the moving of the pen
Was he writing prose of was it poetry again?
Verse by verse it poured on out
It seemed to him a silent shout
Descriptive words, symphony and vibrant light
Reach out expressively, he knew he had to write
It wasn’t just some wayward words that streaked forth from his pen
He knew that he had written poetry again
Warm breezes blowing
LOVE on a sweet summer’s night
Words are my passion
Lazy days of FUN
Will spark creativity
Trying to capture
Tender cries of baby birds
Sandy walks along the beach
Children playing in the park
Inspire POETRY verses
Honeysuckle in the air
Prose expressively
Written by: Shani Fassbender
I believe that with faith in God, nothing is impossible.*
This anchors my dream certainly devoid of disillusion...
Full of hope, I pray for a miracle
as the Lord favors according to His plan
or if He in His sovereign wisdom approves, in His time.
In my dream... this scenario is vividly captured:
Waking me from my sweet slumber is my dear son
with his eloquent “Good morning, mommy” greetings…
Pulling me from bed, he props my hands for fervent prayer-gesture
and then he communes with God, talking to Him sincerely
seemingly oblivious of my presence.
Then he reaches the Bible and reads expressively
the third chapter of Proverbs, stressing verses 5 and 6,
“Trust in the LORD with all thine heart;
and lean not unto thine own understanding.
In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.”
To my delight, he fixes himself up, not anymore seeking my aid
for his hygienic endeavors, and in eating his meals.
He enjoys school activities and church fellowships
as he testifies gladly about his accomplishments
concluding with “God is good to me.”
Indeed, God is gracious
for the wondrous might He has wrought
in our special child who is diagnosed
with global developmental delay.
Stricken with cerebral palsy, he cannot walk;
though he is now nine years old.
He struggles everyday
to communicate with others.
Now, fully awakened to reality’s truth,
I thank God for enabling me to trust Him fully.
As a volunteer social worker in our church orphanage
I cherish God’s fortification of my faith
while rearing and raising up,
nourishing and nurturing our special child...
with love from the Lord.
*Mark 10:27 "And Jesus looking upon them saith, With men it is impossible, but not with God: for with God all things are possible."
Revised on February 18, 2019
2nd place, "I Dreamed a Dream" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Silent One; judged on 2/20/2019.
Silly me to even think, for you to see me visibly as I view you to be my galaxy. Gallantly I stand before thee, wishing! Silently!
Knowingly the probability of what my imaginations has placed in front of me. You became more to me than what defines amazingly, its exactly what amazes me, left in a maze of glee though somewhat confuses me, making it so hard to express it so expressively. How could this be? When all that we were suppose to be, is nothing more than just a friend to me. Don't you agree? or maybe...
Silly me to even think, for you to see me visibly as I view you to be my galaxy. Gallantly I stand before thee, wishing! Silently!