Best Filament Poems


Premium Member Purpose or Obliteration

I dreamed I was inside a bulb—
a cathedral of filament and glass—
not dead
not born…..
but shumming**.

Glass walls curved like time
sealed but translucent

my fingers curled around voltage
like a secret
God was transcending.

The socket hummed a lullaby
of static.

Every breath of mine made sparks
the air electric
with grief
and longing.

I saw myself outside the bulb
in a room wallpapered with eyes—
each iris twitching
like a seismograph.

They watched
as I shimmered like an angel
in a jar of fire

as if I were proof
of something
too holy
or too hideous
to name.

The room beyond
glistened with wallpapered surveillance—
each gaze a blink
each blink
a test of identity
a hymn of entropy
and wonder.

I touched the glass—
cool as frozen memory
thin as a promise—

and the world on the other side
shuddered
like a dream woken
too soon

My thoughts turned tungsten—
spiraled
stubborn
resisting
the spark of enlightenment
or extinction

I spoke
and the words bent back
like boomerangs
buzzing
with static regret

A child approached
barefoot
real
impossibly tender…..

She looked like someone
I might have loved
if time had taken pity.

She placed her palm on the bulb—
her skin against my sorrow
the warmth of it
startling
as mercy
a forgiveness.

“Why are you in there?”
she asked
or perhaps
thought—
her voice the color
of candlelight.

I tried to answer
but my vocal cords was hardwired
my tongue
a fuse

My words came back
distorted
looped
charred

as if language
were combustible.

For a moment
I flickered
between purpose
and obliteration

Then
the ceiling cracked open
like a wound

and light poured down—
not to reveal
like revelation
like judgment—
to burn away
the questions

And I understood—
not everything illuminated
is meant to be seen

not all vision
is freedom…..

Some truths
are meant to flicker
fragile and holy
inside the bulb of the soul

unspoken
unchosen
alive.

================

**Shumming: Shimmering Humming
Categories: filament, identity, imagination, introspection, philosophy,
Form: Narrative

Premium Member A Nightingale Sings of Dawn's Glory

Cobwebs of thoughts dangle in forlorn corner
Spun by emotions that surrendered long ago
Still hanging out, anguished, in grip of throes
Engrossed in silence while gazing night skies
Admiring how they once painted astral designs
Brush stroking delight by sheer hint of eyes
Until the silken threads of lives ripped apart,
Each filament eagerly tearing webs of hearts.

Regrets of passion buzzed roiling wistful lives
When placid frontiers encountered stormy tides
Sailing smooth surfs that callously turned wild
On oceans unfamiliar to the benevolent minds
Beckoned by allure of prairies shamrock green
Thinking out there grew a garden of paradise~~
Abundance of blossoms their lives couldn’t have,
Squandering foolishly bond of love they had.

Yet, the darkened nights they traversed all alone
Heard repertoire of enchanting mirthful tone
Wooing love, having crossed thousands of miles,
Reminding them~ you don’t just abandon life,
Trilling tunes of affection in imploring oratory
Teaching humans secrets of romantic allegory
When the dawning on horizon gleams lapis lazuli
And a doting nightingale sings of dawn’s glory.

Promise of hopeful day glimmered their insights
Spurring their spirits to revisit places of delight,
Those they painted once by sheer hint of eyes,
Reassembling the filaments torn apart by time
Proceeding soon mindfully to rebuild their nest
Excited once again to hear chirps of hatchlings
When the dawning on horizon gleams lapis lazuli
And a doting nightingale sings of dawn’s glory.

June 7, 2021
Placed 1st: This or that, vol 3 poetry contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Title chosen: A nightingale sings of dawn’s glory
Categories: filament, break up, hope, love
Form: Verse

Premium Member Corporate Control

I always feel hungry
yet dare not complain
it may set a precedent,
believing I am the fodder
the factory keeps feeding on my
infinite illusions.
The Radio talkback show tells us,
“No one wants insecurity anymore.”
Yet the conglomerates give no guarantee
no “Job for life”
Only a life! For a job.
Perhaps security is with the power
of the poppy or cocoa leaf?
So far, I’ve been lucky
I’ve found my comfort zone
this side of life.
So! Do not weep for me
for I breathe the fragrance of innocence,
my mind remains only
a fragment of intellect,
my musing will never make poem of the day
when my world one of such simplicity.
Yet I see mankind bemused,
multitudes from all walks of life
programmed as corn in the meadow
swaying to a acrimonious breeze,
before being judged within a
clockwork frame, with hearts
that beat in caustic chests.
Frail bodies embraced with wretched minds
tolerance etched upon stark faces,
their promised land dangled upon
the filament of dreams,
while calculated scenarios
bombard their unswerving ambience.

© Harry J Horsman 2020
Categories: filament, angst, power,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Light Particle

Light, defined as electromagnet,
radiation; photon particles
Natural visible light: with intensity, and frequency
Light wavelength spectrum / polarization propagation

People pleasure and preen at the beach with sunny sun tanning
Sunlight illuminates Mountain trails for bicycling and trekking
Sunsets have lavender with orange bright beams extending
Solar sunrays light a day of picnic park fun with joyful frolicking

Some of the light spectrum is radio, white light, ultraviolet and x-rays
Infrared is only heat visible and gamma-rays are the most powerful 
Small lasers are used in disk drives, printers, and fiber-optics 
Fiber-optic networks is light fast digital information system

TV plasma, liquid crystal displays, LEDs light-emitting diodes gives visuals
These assist our everyday visual optic neural perceptions
Cars have headlights and ships use fog-lights
Light-towers have flood-lights and we use handy flashlights

Tesla and Edison partook in the light bulb’s invention
Lewis Latimer and Joseph Nichol invented its carbon filament
This did dispel much of the world’s nighttime darkness
Lightning lights reveal a charge of the negative and positive

Colors of violet, blue, green, yellow, orange, red: are in white light
Some colors viewed when seeing a rainbow over a dewy meadow
What can be possibly seen at the other end of a rainbow
This but to note God’s faithful abatement covenant

Starlight is continually being reflected and refracted
Earth and the Heavens is lit up by starry Star Lights
Great Stars round and renowned, in balance and equilibrium
They are fiery fireballs very luminous and bright

Stars dispersing their photon particles at light speed
"Light speed, “299,792,458 meters per second"
Light, is a part of the equation “E=MC squared”
“Energy,” not made, nor annihilated, yet always in flux

"Natures life sustaining and revealing light, "Light Particle"
Categories: filament, fire, life, light, nature,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member An Existential Curiosity, Night Fantasy

The hour of night unfolds before me like an origami shadow 
and suddenly the stars outsource their light, the moon her glow 
That dark and endless sky before my eyes is holding me in silence 
sheltering my quietude with queried thought I ask, who are you ?
Dark shadows moving with paranormal photo lights 
every planet in the sky including Mars ignites 
Saturnian golden shades of amber filament bright 
the hour of night unfolds giving me wish bullions of gold. 
Far beyond reach the innocent child of wander that I once was 
has left her stationary world of earth, her Alcatraz 
that jet black place of deep that knows no boundaries calls 
to me, you are who you say you are ! 
Luminescent angels of beauty and grace they hold the golden cup 
belonging to Pharaohs of yesterday, Divine intermediaries 
who brush through my soul like the breeze, airflow from heaven
an existential curiosity arises once more,  where are we ?

December 29, 2022
Sponsor	Edward Ibeh
Contest Name	This or That, Vol 15 |
Categories: filament, appreciation, beauty, fantasy,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member I Wove You a Poem

I had a dream.
In the dream I wove you a poem.

I used the fiber of my character 
to create spools of silken thread.

Then I dyed them 
in the colors of my imagination.

I reinforced 
each and every single strand 
with the strength of my love.

Spun the spools  
from the intricacy 
of my spirit.

Enamored by your vision,
I pattern every part of me,
every memory,
into every filament of my fabric.

Finished
I initialed my woven piece.

M.Y.
Categories: filament, devotion, feelings, joy, love,
Form: Free verse


Together

Away from life’s whims of bustle and rush 
Not even the wind will brittle shells brush 
The bird’s eggs rest peacefully on their nest
Work of fibres at their best.
(What in the world can be more beautiful?)
The value of a filament cannot best be told 
Otherwise its stick of fire will soon be drowned in the dew.


Our pot is broken:
Our world is split in seven pieces;
Some greater, larger and some left unspoken.
The black clouds that welcome the rains of the month 
Is the stench breath of the cannons mouth?
And to think our worst fears are manmade meteors from the sky
Would forever be one pathetic lie.

Ebony and ivory together  
Can’t you hear the sounds of piano keys?
 Like the singing free spirited birds that will always fly.

Oh mankind! Oh mankind!! Oh mankind!!!
Do you not feel the chill in the uncaring night? 
In our minds the tale of the broom
Mummy earth still rewinds
“A stick will only prick dirt through your eyes
 But together they can clean the room “
Categories: filament, friendship, life, loveworld, together,
Form: Free verse

Neon (9/11)

When dulled down shock painfully became
a pickaxe ache behind shimmering eyes,
the bludgeoning screen hammered memory cells
repeatedly, over and over.
Tears exploded, soft rain dampened flame,
the grumbling dust cloud debris disguised
broken hearts bursting in agonised swells
searching for life confirmation.

Crashed vultures, evil in senseless flight,
beating humanity for hours like a drum,
cramping the breath with holocaust claws,
gleefully gloating, gloating.
Yet humanity does not die in the night,
by the warped wicked ways of fanatical scum,
humanity fades not, nor crawls on all fours
the prey of abomination.

Could Hitler pulverise humanity dead,
could Stalin annihilate it's very soul,
could Hussein defile it's essence to dust,
could they, hell.
It arises from rubble and ashes instead,
steel resurrection, reassembled whole,
in the love and pride of people it must
elicit restoration.

Beneath the veil of despair-crippled night
a broken city seethed neon 'till morning,
mortal wounds blazed and shone in rebirth,
defiantly living, living.
And hope prevailed in each bulb burning bright,
in each filament, tube, each spark a new dawning
of all that Heaven allows on Earth,
a prayer-shot inspiration.

The carnage of angels bedazzled with pain,
yet the courage and conscience of saints empowered
a neon-lit love of brother for brother,
a blinding, blinding sight.
From sorrow and sacrilege raining again
humanity's wonder, upon them was showered
the love of the brave and the just for each other
that they become the light.
© Tony Bush  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: filament, death, history, people, uplifting,
Form: Verse

Premium Member She

"Poetry is a life-cherishing force. For poems are not words, after all, but fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost, something as necessary as bread in the pockets of the hungry." 

She became a leaf on a tree, a speck of dust, a limb still attached 
shining like the sun she was the light that splayed upon nature's hour 
but when the shadows came, she wrote her thoughts on a binder, 
and became an evening cornflower.
Hungering by the river's edge she kept her secrets inside her diary  
as she glided with imaginative desire on a silver lake of dreams 
A permanent work of art inked and set aside, her words 
a filament of nature's calligraphy. 
Each pocket of earth described each single fern narrated,   
by the apex of her linguistic, morphemes. 
As the hourglass of time sifted finely down her filtered mind, 
sweet poetry was born, germinated and seeded.   
Life grows naturedly so does poetry when the heart is opened 
she became part of the all-inclusive in this sweet haven,  
where the everything and the always can only be described,  
by a writer's pen and pluck.

November 24, 2022 
Sponsor	Sotto Poet
Contest Name	Poetry is a life-cherishing force Contest
Categories: filament, appreciation, tribute, writing,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Dusk

So many seek you by the light of the dawn only to lose you through the haze of dusk
You are mysterious at times a silent secret  in the navel of mans thoughts, a deviance 
a variate inside the doors of the conscience far remote when peppered with denial  
you want to be sought after like love agape, 
so many seek you by the light of the dawn, only to lose you to the heady scent of musk 
you are like a fine cut diamond in the raw, if I press you to a  mirror you break the image  
you save, you redeem, you make deer sleep, you see a sinner and turn him into snow  
Palpable like the studded stars of heaven every filament of your grace, is a hot burner  
You show up at the most inconvenient times and sometimes the most timely ones too 
So many seek you by the light of the dawn but you being truth, always come as you are,  
clear faced and bold, you hold your own    
So many seek you by the light of the dawn only to lose you through the haze of dusk
you are mysterious, at times a silent secret in the navel of a womans thoughts , deviant.
Categories: filament, truth,
Form: Free verse

Black Inventors

Poet: Ken Jordan
Poem: Black Inventors
Edited by: Sparkle Jordan
written: August/2013

Black 
Inventors
are 
the forgotten,

There's 
no mention
of them
in 
America's
history 
books -

And 
school
goes on
as usual,

America,
is
not
telling the
truth -

Like 
the lie
they
continue
to tell
about
Christopher
 Columbus -

Did he 
really
discover
America,

when 
Native 
Americans
were
already 
here?

What 
are you
afraid 
of
America?

It's time to
re-write 
the 
 history
books;

This time,
include
black 
history,
and
all 
that we
contributed,
to this 
country -

Teach
the  children
the truth -

America,
let them
 know
that:

Dr. Charles Drew
(a black man)
Invented blood
plasma, the first
blood bank -

Dr. Daniel Hale Williams
(a black man) 
credited
for performing
the first Open
Heart surgery
on July 9, 1893

Benjamin Bannecker,
(a black man) 
successfully 
created 
the first 
clock
built in 
America -

Lewis Latimer
(1848 - 1928)
a black man,
Invented an 
important
part
of the
light bulb
the
carbon 
filament -

And
when you
re-write
the history
book,
don't leave
out:

Elijah McCoy
(1843 - 1929)
a black man,
Invented
an oil dripping
cup
for trains -

George Washington 
Carver, 
(1860 - 1943)
a black man,
Developed
peanut butter,
and
400 
plant products -

Garrett Morgan
(1877 - 1963)
a black man,
Invented the
gas mask,
and
the first
traffic signal
light -

Madam CJ Walker
(1867 - 1919)
a black woman,
Invented
a hair growing
lotion -

America,
You say
that you're
one nation
under
God,
with
liberty
and 
justice
for all -

Re-write
the
history
book;

include
black
history -

Teach
the children
the
truth -

The whole
truth -
© Ken Jordan  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: filament,
Form: Light Verse

Premium Member A Manic Night of Bipolar Rapture

I feel so freaking, God-like good;
     I feel My chest-expanding heart
and the mad frenzy in My blood,
     which tear My mind and soul apart!

These urgent voices in My head
     reverberate and echo loud
memories and regrets now dead
     and buried in a forsaken shroud;

they scream at Me, "You're the Devil!"
     They prophesy the Anti-Christ,
and accuse Me of all the evil
     since mankind first became enticed.

I refuse their shrill, satanic call;
     and find in the Apocalypse
that God's avenging Angel of all
     is Me who is the world's eclipse.

"Not Anti-Christ!" I now reply.
     "Not Devil!" I begin to shriek,
"for the Lamb of the world am I,
     the Lord's Messiah for the meek!"

Sinners will know their final hour;
     they will drown in their anguished cries
when I at last will know My power,
     and expose all their wicked lies!

In this soft, padded cell of white
     they watch and look at Me with dread;
they view Me as a monstrous blight,
     and starve Me with unleavened bread.

How long is My imprisonment?
     I cannot guess, divine, or tell;
but from the look of that filament,
     they can keep Me for quite a spell;

"Dear God! I hate these lousy drugs,"
     I howl, "that they shoot in My ass!"
They hold Me down those stupid thugs,
     injecting Thorazine so fast! 

They fail to grasp the true reasons
     why I'm here: I wish they could see
that I can forgive their treasons,
     if they would just believe in Me?

Once free again I'll be reborn,
     lifted up in divine Image;
I'll end man's need for drugs and p*rn;
     and prepare them for God's Marriage.

So hear My law and injunction,
     the lost will burn without release
once they all know My dominion:
     only then will My Rapture cease!
Categories: filament, drug, gothic, imagination, psychological,
Form: Bio

Premium Member Reflections of Humanity During a Snowstorm

Bristling yet beguiling winds are
driving snow sheets through the dark,
and, secured by brick and lamp,
I draw a comforter to my breast,
one woven by humanity.

I sense that each quickening gust
is pulling through the loom of time
life's many multi-colored threads.

A hickory brown is borne to me
of ships defying depths and dangers,
carrying dreams and heartaches.

Glistening now--the lucent blue
of fertile, percolating minds
genome maps and software.

I feel the orange of affection,
hearth and smiles and homecomings,
the warmth of song and story.

The blinking silver of fantasy,
visionaries, piercing sterility--
castles, stars, utopias.

Here is a filament of frothy pink
comedies, dances and levity,
play and spontaneity.

The looming strands of swarthy black
necessities, death, and armies,
relentless in their marching.

The golden promise of sacred texts,
altars, candles, hope,
encoded and translated.

Emerging, the green of recent growth,
rites of spring and passage,
learning and inner progress.

With such a large and lustrous blanket
in which to sink, like a new-born babe,
I'll toss some folds to you, as they will
easily stretch from here to there.
© Carol Mays  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: filament, color, history, humanity, imagination,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Ulzana's Raid

In Ulzana's Raid,
the Native- and European-American concepts of property ownership
      and rights
are incompatible and irresolvable. McIntosh
had no illusions about that. He said hating Apaches for killing whites
is like hating the desert for having no water.
I suspect the movie's not a good source of anthropological data
and overlooks the commonalities among human communities
to focus on just a few bold characters
as all art must.

I consider McIntosh fortunate
to have died commensurate with the way he lived his life,
rolling a final cigarette, nothing between him and the desert,
and no gravediggers waiting, jesting, defecating. Also,
he is lucky to have had one last, dispassionate friend
to whom there is nothing left to say, the Chiracahua tracker
Kah-ti-nay.

Last night's performance of Beauty and the Beast
may have been the most victorious, ecstatic, cohesive
moment in our little school's history. Emily was Beauty, a filament of
      energy
who doesn't like to be touched and has been known to punch
boys hard. She had memorized her lines until she was hardly
Emily but only Beauty in a blue dress unselfconsciously
hiking up her tights between the Beast's advances.
Is this done in every American town and the world
over so there's no need to feel lost or lonely
ever?

There is no context for a man
outside the platoon or raiding party, home or shop.
When violence comes to the neighborhood,
the hierarchy of communicants will hold or fold
it is then the peace work proves relevant. I noticed McIntosh,
grizzled as he was, accepted the given hierarchy, a raw lieutenant's
      orders,
as he did the desert and Apaches, with a shrug and foreknowledge
of the outcome. If there's anywhere with no Emily or Beauty
we should bring them such blessings at the point of a
gun. But there is no place without Emily, not
the least-known prison in deepest space as long
as we do not hate or hurt or shun
the Beast.
Categories: filament, america, art, friend, history,
Form: Verse

Tech-No-Logic

Tech-No-Logic

Of keyboard and swipe
a screens deliberation circuit electronic
in metal skin and paper thin
push button hums the chord of plastic
tech-no-logical inventum
such marvels to grind the wheel
impartial utensils the battery static
a signal from pre-molded concrete
sends the flip switch light 
a barrage of city steel

Perfidious evolution
camera slapped ready to be mobile
disseminate precious packeted information
send the engine forward
designed specific mechanical 
with purpose and all copyright invention
roll out the factory trinkets
and by wifi extol these virtues of freedom
such ease of apps
the dictionary of a creative human

Pander upon the wonder
tech-no-logic inventum
to satellite and celluloid praise them
the world a window
to ignore confusion
fanatical gears performing missiles
each trigger of functioning confident
laser guided telescopic retention
art forms innovation
and the busy discourse of bibliophiles

What design by rain
the mechanisms of perfume
a flowers technical schematic
a blueprint revived 
so the wind sustains chaotic
fluctuations of forms molecule Phi
graceful filament wings
the meaning of feathers, thorns and insect
wood breathing light
inexplicable, irreproachable tree 
of life     

And who by sun
upon rainbows plain did walk
was uttered a catchphrase of miracles
no other perfection
wrought in animate visions sacrament
the momentums overture existential 
rhythms dance plays waterfall
which finger tips technology
so in intricate reflex of memory
sustained an infinite birth

Lay by road side 
in clank and clamor rattle
semaphore an accident in skeletal 
and by marvelous creed
take emulsions photo
whys and wherefores the veins of petals
the everyday unexceptional
but still focus changes the angle
all reiteration speaks
by blueprint original perfected creation
Categories: filament, nature, technology,
Form: Free verse
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