Best Filters Poems
charcoal grey horizon~
on the rusty cast iron bench
my old self sits in pensive mood
beside the lake beneath December sky
the wayward wind as it teases my hair
whispers melodies from long ago~
that breath echo in the air
the echo reverberates ~
weaving fragments into vivid voices
and symphonies of yesteryears
my grandma's lullaby
our high-school graduation song
then tender laughters
of children at play fill the air
then comes the echo
of my father's sobbing voice
as he handed me to my groom
on that Saturday afternoon
whilst the organist played
the Wedding March by Mendelssohn
as the echo fades
and turns tenebrous twilight
into enchanting ebony evening
I look around ~
the coffee shop behind me
inviting for another cup
whilst the coffee on my lap
gets colder and colder
yet not as cold as the winter chill
perching inside of me
Categories:
filters, feelings, memory,
Form:
Free verse
The melody gradually filters
Through my being
Filling my soul with joy
I go with it savouring, anticipating
It’s genius – no other thoughts enter
Just floating with the melody
Surprised by some discords they startle me
Prepare me for the majesty of sound to come
Categories:
filters, art
Form:
Prose Poetry
Through
the trees
at sunset-
a tunnel of
light.
Categories:
filters, nature,
Form:
Imagism
It creeps up on me early morning
and again late afternoon
a microcephalic shadow,
almost the length of a football pitch,
Land of the giants view
My childlike head is miles
away and dwindling,
constantly deflating
Proteus syndrome echoes
back through generations
crossing time zones too
Elongated diffraction
casts a very long shadow,
tapering reality
Low sun dysmorphia
projects a reflection of me,
A filtered perspective
revealing my only truth
Those beans I threw away
yesterday were not magic
No golden goose lives atop the stalk
just a grotesque shell,
and one giant (yoke)
flattening all potential
I try look away
but as always
a grain of sand
blocks my view
Come chop me down,
flinch as I fall
Step over my shadow
you’ll need
(seven league boots)
But most of all,
no fixed roots!
Categories:
filters, deep, how i feel,
Form:
Free verse
Eloquence and dissidence
merge as one in my defense~
Open eyed, too blind to see,
the root of my Divinity~
The sleepers shuffle in the dark,
searching for their hidden spark~
Eyes turned out, they do not see,
the now that owns reality~
Proving ground for all their fears,
magnets for pain, for death and tears~
Forgetful drones can’t own their light,
caress their souls which shine so bright~
The deepest dreamers feel the blade,
the thorns of all their choices made~
Awakened ones doth feel the weight,
with perfect footsteps to their fate~
Filters for the worlds dark hate,
they hold the key to heaven’s gate~
Satprem~
Copyright © 2015
Categories:
filters, addiction, anxiety, conflict, confusion,
Form:
Lyric
Why hide beauty behind snapchat filters?
Truthfully it's worthless
I was beautiful before the snapchat filters became a thing
So why hide your true beauty under snapchat filters?
I mean is it to hide behind lies?
Snapchat filters are fun though they hide the beauty of a person
I mean sure I use the snapchat filters but it's funny how you cover up such beauty.
Snapchat filters have become worthless to me since they hide the beauty I want to show.
Categories:
filters, beauty, fun,
Form:
Free verse
I awoke into a sea of stars. No filters between our souls. Like a rabid sensation of time past forth. Melodies from your fingertips echo within, as the vibrations solidify the end of laws.
Within this eternity we float endlessly, tumbling through unpaved desires. This sensation was bliss, until I awoke once more. I withered and died. Realizations in time, the heart cannot function without you in mind.
Categories:
filters, absence, age,
Form:
Free verse
It visits the mind
Here in my bed where I rest my bones
It meanders through the avenues
Bypasses and fly overs
These thoughts of love
Here in my bed with me.
The mind like a sieve
Filters the moments and the fun
That I have shared.
It separates the hard times
Letting the good times leak
The feeling is good.
A moment or two visits the heart
Waters flow to it
For a second the heart is marshland
Where the feelings hold for a while
The reeds naturally filter the waters
What escapes is clean and aerated.
Lovely is the feeling
In the mind I recycle again
To recall each moment I shared.
Deep into the forest of yesterday
I journey into the labyrinth
The feeling is enchanting.
Thought after thought I journey
Deep and deep I go
For I remember yesterday.
I journey so far away
Without knowledge
I am fast asleep
Categories:
filters, lovejourney,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Suppose I threw it in your faces
Please don't anybody asked of me to decided anything, I am not in the mood to explain:
I do not know if Mr. Trump is running or not, or if he is too old, that he might stumble and fall (??
Or who will make the best candidate for this upcoming election of 2024 might be.
We as citizens must wake up and see that politicians and thieves
all have the same mentality: denial is not our friend,
No matter what, it's a known fact, that elected leaders won't protect American democracy.
Please don't asked of me to decided anything, I am not in good state of mind
My way of thinking about life is to hard and run, at my age I am too old to learn:
Nonattachment, disengaged, I have no one to answer too: no weeping willows for me>(na sa!)
In the hands of a skilled poet, which I am not, rhyme and rhythms doesn't matter to me
I allow my raw talent to speak for itself. My island tongue to lash out freely,
Nor will I apologize to anybody, about my way of delivering my sentences
Without proper nouns or pronouns, I would gladly say my gradable adjective is bold.
Tell me, which is more important, your criticisms or are you making sense of my raw talent.
English language poetry, what he s is that. Let me break this down
“Ode to a Nightingale by John Keats, google it. And read for yourselves
I can relate to this poem; I can surely do. Annie Lander a nightingale. Yep!
But mostly my poems are softly spoken, no audios, just plain, Sarah Palin (??
Please don't asked of me to decided anything, I am not in a good state of mind
My sweetheart knows better than to asked anything of me in the morning,
My high libido, my financial stress and his capability to man up and accept a reality that
Feels unacceptable. However, I love him though at times my Kwaku K
Suppose I was to be thrown it you all faces:
Mississippi is an illusion and a wicked river, vote wisely yak all.
Categories:
filters, absence, abuse, addiction, allegory,
Form:
Free verse
lenses bigger than faces
trying to capture
something beautiful they say
its like dripping ice cream cones
like sticky August
like they say its vintage
brown coffee filters
on treasure maps you drew
in second grade
why don’t you pose more they say
like stop crossing your legs
like you couldn’t survive in the city
like your lips are dry when you get nervous
dancing under tangerine umbrellas
doesn’t tell me what you had for breakfast
yesterday morning
stay still in the moment they say
like focus only moves you forward
like pinwheels are distractions
and lemons make sour faces
move to a nicer background they say
I don’t even stop
twirling pressing bare feet
into soggy grass
like dewdrops are hours
and it rained yesterday
why don’t people find answers
in black backgrounds
Categories:
filters, conflict, confusion, desire, growing
Form:
Free verse
bull monster slumbers on the soft cloud of life
without stress or concerns, with no kind of stife.
his mama gave him the assignment all bull monsters want.
he rolls in his dreams, and his lips give a grunt.
does bull monster ever come down here? Asked my boy.
no, he stays there to guide us, giving us gulps of great joy.
he dreams our dreams first, filtering all of the nasties out.
bull monster wants us to sleep soundly, not nightmare about.
Categories:
filters, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Monorhyme
Rolled up tobacco,
Left over filters,
That life,
Yeah I'm guilty,
But you know,
At least I'm still me,
If you haven't understood,
You'll still understand,
Question though..
Have you shook hands
With hope?
Hoping about cope,
How will you?
Could you have?
Nah, maybe ..
Yeah I could see it,
But you didn't,
Did you?
Oh wow,
Oh no,
It's getting truthful,
Apologize?
Never that,
Too human,
So can't,
Yeah okay,
But you witness,
This whole world,
Around us,
Connects all,
Yet we cant connect,
Or can we?
We just haven't tried,
Scratch all this,
Only if I lied,
Goodbye
Categories:
filters, anger, conflict, emotions, hate,
Form:
Memories form in colors
vibrant, vivid, varied
by Time diminished
as the echo filters reality
Each person's process unique ...
Echoes form organically
Desires, wishes, dreams,
hopes, aspirations, schemes,
inclinations, rationalizations,
attracted to then reflected off
Life's hardened surfaces
Discordant reverberation
increasing, subsiding,
in constant flux colliding,
with reality abiding ...
Perceptions construed
from the magnitude of
echoes merging as one ~
Life's composite echo filtering reality!
Categories:
filters, life, memory,
Form:
Free verse
The Ohio wipes its face every few miles.
This bend in the river
forgets the wharfs, the gravel silos
and power plants,
only occasional coal barges
push an industrial flatus before them.
Here cattails gather herons
into measured dominions.
The river gallops under placid waves
Fish-eyed currents dip and toggle
in the ripple.
It is possible to watch yourself
being rinsed and laundered
in this newly whisked stream,
possible to wash your face anew.
A person can stand on this reedy shore
and forget, nor see the daily grime,
but observe a lathering,
as a fishing sunlight
pulls out a new image,
the spread of fathoming nets
flung far to catch this fresh
momentary wonder.
Categories:
filters, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
It starts with a hum,
a thread unspooling through silence -
soft, sure, and annoyingly insistent,
like the world is whispering
secrets it’s dared me to misunderstand.
The first echo hits,
ricocheting off the walls,
and suddenly this isn’t just a room -
it’s a kaleidoscope of sound,
a ripple of moments reborn,
sharper, louder,
more alive than their beginnings.
Your laugh?
A sparkler snapping against dusk.
My words?
Half-forgotten confetti,
colouring the corners where truth hides.
Truth, after all, is always shy
until you catch it staring back.
Reality twists,
shuffles its cards,
pulls an ace out of its sleeve,
then smirks like it planned this all along.
The echo rewrites everything -
makes shadows dance like they’ve known the steps forever,
makes silence flirt like it’s in control,
but you know it’s just guessing too.
And when it fades?
It doesn’t leave us empty -
it leaves us cradling shapes
we can’t quite name yet,
hands full of questions
that glow like lanterns -
flickering, daring us to follow,
only to vanish when we get too close.
We laugh anyway,
lost in the dark,
as if it was the plan all along.
Categories:
filters, emotions, how i feel,
Form:
Free verse