Best Filtration Poems
WATER
Water Invigorates the Human Body
Hydration is so important for our body’s creation
to maintain as we play, run, and exercise
Our fluids start leaving our body through sweating
Dehydration can be life-threatening
Requisite is so important for water filtration for our benefit
Safe, clean drinking water to filter and make definite
Safe water supply , impermeable with safe amount of fluoride
Adequate drinking water is however, scarce in many hot regions
Precipitation released from the clouds in different forms;
Water cycle to our Earth
It cools and condenses into rain,
freezing rain, snow, or hail in the clouds
falling to the surface clean and clear
Water evaporates from the surface of the earth
rising again into the atmosphere
It varies in the amount that falls thought out the world
Making our earth seventy-one percent water
Besides the water that exists beneath the Earth’s surface
Leaving twenty-nine percent continents and island
Three point five percent is freshwater lakes and in crystallization form
As glaciers polar ice caps
If you could melt all the ice, the sea level would rise
Water itself is not blue, water gives of blue light upon reflection
Water invigorates the human body, animals, and plants
It is also important element on earth to survive
No water no life on earth
4/12/2016
Contest Name Second Chance #3
Sponsor Broken Wings
Yes finalized 4/17/2016 12:00:00 AM
1) HYDRATION (2) REQUISITE (3) PRECIPITATION (4) IMPERMEABLE (5) INVIGORATE (6) CRYSTALLIZATION
Water- Lauryn hill unplugged( Kian breakfast in bed)
I shouldn't spend so much time
in the forlorn
Saddened by the mistakes that haunt me
The past for which I can not change is gone for good
Rinsed down the drain.
And that's a good thing
A filtration system meant to recycle in
the fresh experiences and insights that will
quench my thirst.
I wasn't the last and I wont be the first.
Love is alot like water, or a running spring, or maybe a well
Time will tell if this levy will break again, if my heart bursts open it could become a tsunami, the epic disaster would be immeasurable the carnage that devastates all who crosses the path.
The pain is palpable, disease is incurable, the number of affected people is a toll that is non billable. You do the math.
The water I speak of can be stream in a meadow,, It can be redirected as she could be swimming up stream with a different fellow. My heart is yellowed, afraid of this angry sea, Mighty storm torrential rain before me. Never mind that I can't swim, can't save you if I tried, besides who can swim and cry?
I've drowned in my failures drifting along until I found this life line
Now it's a combination of destiny, and time.
Will I beach at a paradise or beaten by the rocks while floating down stream. Sublime.
The water is a force, the beach beckons, can't have earth sans water. Can't have food, can't have rain, can't have showers, baths, soak pain away, rinse away, drink to cure, can be serene and pure. Visceral, celestial,natural, perennial, preferential, moving about my earth directing my new flow. Cleansing me letting it all go taken away lost in your ocean living off the idea that inside me will one day again grow.
On the edge of my seat,
On the tip of my chair,
Sweating in the Doctor’s Lair,
Waiting for that sympathetic stare
And the news
That my slack heart
Needs a jump start,
Liver fails to deliver,
Blood is clogged
With choleric cholestrol,
Kidneys are more cesspit,
Than filtration device,
Belly fluff is full of lice,
Tonsils are shot
With boasting bacteria
Roller-coasting
Down my gullet
To a soirée
In the small intestine.
Inwardly I scream
And await the death sentence
On my organs.
She’ll tell me that
The years of gorgonzola
Gormandising and
Elevated caffeine intake
Have condemned me
To an early coffin-break.
Oh my aching mind!
I can feel the blinds
Descending and my
DNA un-mending.
The worms are wriggling
Down my spine
When the doctor says
“You’ve got a bit of a cold,
You’ll be fine.”
** Apologies for anyone unfamiliar with the metaphors used, they're quite British ***
Most people in life work for someone
as all the statistics have shown
but I thought I'd go out and start up by myself
as an entrepreneur, go it alone.
My radio shop called in the receivers,
someone got in and all the stock stole,
so I switched to creating a unique shampoo
but that all went down the plug hole.
I started a wallpaper business
but that quickly went to the wall
My pet grooming venture has gone to the dogs
And my parachute school took a fall.
My submarine business went under,
my brake shoe shop, that hit the skids,
the paper shop folded, boat builder ran aground
but I wasn't surprised when it did.
The detergent idea is all washed up,
and my driving instructor school crashed,
my water filtration is in liquidation
and dustbin cleaning business got trashed.
My hairdressers, that came a cropper,
I thought that would do well the most,
then my skills as a medium,
nobody did need 'em,
and that has now given up the ghost.
My last chance is growing tobacco,
as that should appeal to some folk,
it does sound quite appealing,
but I have a bad feeling
that the whole thing will go up in smoke.
VIEW FROM THE BRIDGE
From the bridge, track the ghosts of line, goods yard, Old Town Station
Where we lingered and noted the numbers of each passing train
Web of steel and of steam entwined village and town across nation
'Til Arcadian rural slow lines suffered untimely wane
Gone: the Market where cows sheep and pigs brought in telling perceptions
The images, noises and smells of the farms to the town
The tweeded farmers with leathery limbs and faces
And gaiters of deepest sheen in a rich chestnut brown
Flaxen ropes, billhooks, pitchforks enough for a peasants' uprising
Spread along the High street and over the Corn Exchange square
While Newport Street furnished inns for all thirsts' reviving
And above all, the clock tower made skyline iconic and fair
Then was school run not cosseted chauffeured, in family car
But raced, skipped or dawdled through field, street, market and station
Our little world teamed with action, unscreened, with no bar
Of health and safety; adventure without filtration
In that world we seemed in different incarnation
So are we the same people, and do we now view the same place?
Can we yet discern immortality's intimation?
The adventure goes on though perhaps at a difference pace.
Ayo, Once upon a time..
There was a absurd world we called it planet earth
The poor people in the dirt, and the rich that didn't work
What's even worse, is I don't even see our worth
Is it to be cursed, burned and have to hurt?
Or are we mere serpents upon this earths surface
Or am I the first person beyond this earths furnace?
Or do I just see my perfect purpose, and I realize I'm not a perfect person?
It's the often urges found in cold churches
Riddled with worry, and never ending nervousness
Maybe cause I've seen what true beauty is
And I've seen a true beauteous, broken and brutal, but still such a beauty miss...
But back to the realness, even if love to me is the realest
To me the trajectory of imagery is so intricately infinite
To you it's something innocently insignificant
You'd have to be an ignorant idiot, to ignore something so brilliant
I have such a diligent different difference, For an instance, I'm truly militant
And I dream of the green trees, that help us all breathe
The oxygen we need, but the trees are falling like leaves
Why can't we concede to see that this will make us weak?
Mother earth is deserving a dedication
She didn't care about the inflation that spread vast upon the nations
She's the foundation of our airs filtration, I see the frustration
Cause every earths rotation, is another days donation
But through the duration, is another dictation, we'll be endangered like the "Dalmatian"
I see the causation of our peoples starvation, and they'll run to a space station
Cause they won't take the adaptation, or the activation of mother earths decoration
Decorating and declaring she's tired of earth devastation
She's tired of the dehydration, so with a demonstration, she'll fix it all with her divination
A supernatural separation, Sustaining the earths suffocation...
It's a revelation of peoples resignation, I'm ready for the renovation and restoration
Of earths situation, it's desecration, and complications will disappear with no explanation.....
Filtration is a process by which we taste pure drops of water....deliberation....discussion......
OLD TOWN ELEGY
The bridge still spans the road - with what design?
The rail that once crossed Ridgeway and vale to the sea
Erased and gone, with scarce residual sign
And barely more trace than near roads of Roman decree
From the bridge, track the ghosts of line, goods yard, Old Town Station
Where we lingered and noted the numbers of each passing train
Web of steel and of steam entwined village and town across nation
'Til Arcadian slow lines were suddenly made to wain
Gone: the Market where cows sheep and pigs brought in telling perceptions
The images, noises and smells of the farms to the town
The tweeded farmers with leathery limbs and complexions
And gaiters of deepest sheen in a rich chestnut brown
Flaxen ropes, billhooks, pitchforks enough for a peasants' uprising
Spread along the High street and over the Corn Exchange square
While Newport Street furnished inns for all thirsts' reviving
And above all, the clock tower made skyline iconic and fair
Then was school run not cosseted, chauffeured, by car
But raced, skipped or dawdled through field, street, market and station
Our little world teamed with action, unscreened, with no bar
Of health and safety; adventure without filtration
In that world we seemed in different incarnation
Are we the same people, and do we now view the same place?
Can we yet discern immortality's intimation?
The adventure goes on though perhaps at a difference pace.
Music notes and exclamation points
Particles colliding with sight crystallized to form
Spiraling cyclically midst graviton pull
Grip mind fathom power with thin flavored lines
Tone deafening my lips chap against visuals
Lapsing time stands ground still out of metered sign
Kind window openings screen systematic filtration
Feeling a wee bit photoshopped hearing pictures
And
Seeing voices...
12/26/2016
Absolute apprehension applied around angst…
Feasting from focused feminine filtration…
Mastering magnificent masculine manifestation…
Balance both bonded building brilliant Buddha body…
Enlightened electric energy evades everyone…
Harmonious humanity has hovering happiness halos…
Omnipresent oneness outlasts original
Sin, souls soaking superconscious supremacy…
WORDS
I came from the land of dumb
Where men could not express their thoughts through speech
But now, I find myself in this world
Where men can speak even with high pitch
But I wish I remained on the land of dumb
For Men of this world defy and abuse drum
They negligibly fail to scrutinize phonetics
The vocal tract paves way for residue,
Even after filtration in the mind.
Words catapulting people's dreams
Words that can make the zeal of the weak go blind
Words like arrows piercing hearts
Just for their eyes to witness blood flow like a stream
Words like poison, they put them in our glass of conversation
But I have found an antidote
They might speak,
But the words can't make us weak
Even if they do, ephemeral it will be
For talk is cheap.
I won't go back to the land of dumb
For I have found the key.
OLD TOWN PAST
Gone: the Market where cows sheep and pigs brought telling perceptions
The images, noises and smells of the farms to the town
The tweeded farmers with leathery limbs and faces
And gaiters of deepest sheen in a rich chestnut brown
Flaxen ropes, billhooks, pitchforks enough for a peasants' uprising
Spread along the High street and over the Corn Exchange square
While Newport Street furnished inns for all thirsts' reviving
And above all, the clock tower made skyline iconic and fair
Then was school run not protected, chauffeured, in cars
But raced, skipped or dawdled through field, street, market, rail station
Our little world teamed with action, unscreened - no bars
Of health and safety; adventure without filtration
In that world we seemed in different incarnation
Can we thus discern immortality's intimation
a full grown man pissed himself in front of me tonight
... he just passed out in a chair and began flowing urine
through the lower hamstring section of his jeans-
the pitter-patter on some other guy's kitchen floor made it disgustingly too real
... a pool had formed by the fridge,
... a large lake of skiddy underwear, sweat ridden filtration; and
the man of the house-"
junior"- wouldn't get out his mop or his mildewy towels for soakage because
to counteract this disaster would be like playing with nerve gas or touching the sun
... you just don't do it
Kidney pie, what’s really inside?
What in the world do they have to hide?
Why name it a pie, if meat you tell?
Pies should be fruit and maybe strange gel.
And if it’s a kidney, well, that’s organ meat,
And I’m not sure if I care to eat
The filtration organs of some food beast,
While pretending that I’m at a feast.
Everything I am is
rhythm/
You see it in my
hips cause I shift
em/
Out my mouth I’m
vibin, fantasizin/
Every blink with a
beat blinded by
horizon/
No thought of
despisin /
I’m just a chillin
already a villain/
A peace and love
spillin, free spirit
thrillin,/
An artistic
academically
ballistic classy
woman/.
An optimistic,
witty, complex lady.
/
My mind rhymes and
mind state are
tight/
They may be altered
but it fits me just
right/
I feel like a star
but illuminated high
up far/
Cause down on the
ground it's so
fumigate/
And not at same time
because my sense is
nonsense/
To the presence of
profound people in
this time/
My revelations
resolve in my
imagination/
Mixed with logic and
frustration it's
toxic/
But could be a
rejuvenation I’ll
let my philosophy/
Do the penetration
no censor or
filtration. /
And in your head I
hit sensors setting
off /
Silent sincere
sensations.