Best Granule Poems
The beauty of nature
one sand granule at a time
being carried from one unknown place to another
to be lost within the depths of the tides
clinging to its home on the shores
by the sea I can see
the beauty of nature
one wave lashing at a time
bringing with it the roar of it's anger
Would I ever forget
finding in my pocket
a grain of silvery sand
rasping upon my hand.
Although just a granule,
trivial and minuscule,
gently it whispers that
I, too, am a mere dot.
At the end of a track
the last note is struck;
relax the gripping hand,
life vanishes like sand.
forgot what I had set out to remember
when my deconstructed self
discovered there was no authentic anything
saw through it all every granule
how we became the unwitting tools
of smarter people who really weren't smart enough
concluding if this is life
you can imagine what death is like
I can tell you this much
we are alone in this galactic theme park
alone as a lizard on a sunny rock
what percent of the totality
of all there is in all the universe
do we perceive
and what do you see with nothing absent
this question failed to sweep through
the bum fight arenas
where they need permission to think
no escaping that free means battle
which goddammit means not free
shouting to anyone my agent will sue
as the lines grew longer
and the bread grew shorter
the sly ones were trampled by their own venality
order was quickly restored destroyed restored etc.
the pace was feverish so were the faces
on State TV at 6 and 11
self denialists saw their heads roll down the lane
towards the ten pins at Bowl N' Boogie
in an educated kind of idiocy
for which there is no help
a scandal of poor illumination
you never know which is the foreground
and which is the background
discovering heaven is not overhead
OK I’d better let up on the enthusiasm
too many grimacing faces in the popcorn
too many bushwhacking gargoyles
plump like 3-D bratwurst
in this Biblical sauerkraut mamodrama
making the world lounge safe
for my blindfolded baptism
for both the seen and the unseen
beneath the scum covered water
on a need to know basis
I now reveal a deadly secret
there is direction there is magnitude
densities and rarities
we mime we imitate
we steal what we are
and are beaten with sticks
for having a mind and knowing it
I meme therefore I am
Defection Control had him by the throat
blow a kiss to the camera
it's all just a really big index
From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.byethost32.com/
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CharlaXFabels
ListZapper
Http:www.listzapper.com/free
There is so many inventions being worked on it is not surprising to the mee the
eye to see a listzapper being developed at least in some Chinese factory. Add it
on the computer next to the inversion control next to the hypertext transferor near
the over stimulated granule hardware where the windows refresher is at. The
internet picture convertor was the newest completed inventory. Now there is a
need for the minds at MIT to make the eye a way to zap a list without doing the
separated items just one more at a time. The items are usually removed by right
click one at a time. The listzapper would be the answer to this modulated
problem just hit the link once to the linkzapper then hit the first item in the list
instead of just that one item open the linkzapper gets them all each and every
one of them all in a row even iff there is 1001 of them all told. The information
scrambles into the hardware forms a list again at the other end and becomes a
new worded document again. Then hit the zapperlist@ the newest test of time
the list is saved into the single files. The need to spend more hours at the board
is gone the keys we need are now limited to only two or even one. Just make a
giant button in the middle of my keyboard so eye can hit the linkzapper and then
upload the zapperlist my work would thus be finished the need for typing gone
the hours that we spend inside the lieberry can be used for having fun…visit
www.zapperlist.com
Have you ever touched a star?
Just grazed its fiery fineness expecting the heat to melt you like butter on a griddle,
But instead, a soft coolness breezed through your soul, refreshing those heat-scarred battle wounds you kept hidden beneath a cloak of self-reliance.
Have you ever talked to the man in the moon?
Spoken to the one whose wise face watched over us since the beginning -- except in times so horrible that he shaded his eyes -- and expected to hear some great truth to carry you through your sand granule of existence,
But heard a knock-knock joke instead.
Have you ever skated on thin ice?
Swirled carelessly above the bubbling danger that wants nothing more than to French kiss the breath from your blue lips,
A dance of death in which you coquettishly follow the ice's lead, heart pounding, lost in the melody, until you collapse upon the ice and weep that your love was never consummated.
Have you ever seen the face of God?
Tiny, wrinkled skin still wet from the womb so unremarkable that you scarce believe in its deity, but so magical that you are compelled to worship His existence? A miracle, birthed from a mortal, whose life changes everyone and everything by only the knowing, the touching, the loving. Life's greatest gift in man's humblest package that we get to open.
Merciful Deceased Mother - Father T'will See Thee Anon
Atheism underscores bedrock
schema Holy Toledo
encompassing mine secular humanistic credo
simultaneously tricking elusive illusion, sans
supernal radiant quintessence
blasting damn ming the torpedo
didst alight kindle linkedin skepticism,
asper this son kissed faith no more,
(nor e'er didst I believe)
with irrefutably blinding albedo.
Though both parents
predecessors theology, included prayer
purportedly distilled within
Eastern European Jewry, where
without bonafied definite
certainty doubts to square
lee dismiss, this mortal
forced to conjecture dare
ring declaratively, while
sitting in thinking chair
(bet my bottom dollar to air)
course, I take leap of faith here
me forebears most likely
modus operandi did adhere
practiced, skewed, premised
Semitic virtue and vice
towed toward theistic obeisance suffice
hath to claim parochial paradigms mice
self attests little doubt,
(no matter scant rice
sized grain genealogical details posit,
one granule pepper, or
other old World spice)
supposed speculative precepts
akin to bing as loose as lice
sen shuss behavior
precepts prevails precise
lee predicated on
(at the minimum Reformed) price
less cherished Jewish,
traditions as device
ordering existence, (perhaps Judeo Christian)
principled tenets to whit
and mention above sit
chew waited at down
chronological arc soon to quit
final chapter of life, though
near ninety year old papa will visit
death be not proud realm
after he doth exhaust limit
of his mortal tenure, I admit
he gives nary a fig,
his meager profit
will not be deeded to any church,
and this sole son
expects (dentured teeth to grit
tight and eyes teary)
to reed only commendable
comments asper his obit,
where spirit of Harriet Harris fuses
with that of Boyce Harris as one unit
Tarry yon forever!
A man with no face
No history to find
Deleted the world
Lost in the life of his mind
Had everything at his finger tips
But his silence cut off his hands
Leaving the one who loved
Buried in the desert sands
Thirsty for his attention
One granule for every thought
She filled her mouth with dirt
Until she could move not
She begged and pleaded
Got nothing in return
Tears could not put out the fire
A heart, once again, burned
He took away the memories
The family that was dear
Silenced the one who loved him
Love lost to fear?
Live and let live
That's what they say
He killed a part of the soul
Each and every day
She heard a faint voice
A little girl stood by her side
"Mum, I love you"
She then began to cry
"Don't give up
I need you too much
Carry me to the land of love
Teach me and such
I am scared to live
Please show me the way
I will not silence
My love is here to stay"
Mud came spewing out
Her lungs filled with air
She hugged the little girl
And they walked into a world so unfair
You cannot teach someone to love
Remember the children
When something goes wrong
They are the innocent
"Pipeline: Hawaii's North Shore where Championship Surfing Meets are held, remains the deadliest since records began in the 60s."
Golden shores surfed duo gift essence new threshold,
History made two by sea,
Footprint holds their granule sunk traces, queues the bold,
Long woods wee came two by sea,
Boarders store their sea tools drift faces, cue behold,
Fantasy dreams two by sea,
Reckon calls pair home schools feet races fuel's the sold,
Handily swims two by sea,
Loop unfolds those who rules hunk intense corkscrew rolled,
Gone absentees are two by sea,
Fathom pulls remain cool surfaces, two consoled,
Breathing-free crawls two by sea,
Jettisons beached dual shift places cruise controlled,
Rest at ease lays two by sea,
Ponder hauls twain unspool whiffed graces schooled withhold,
Bended knees pray two by sea,
Covered boards bros no fools--but in case, 'Win the Gold',
*Pipeline be? Two if's by sea?
*HMS; Anapestic tetrameter.
Lemon tinted phase
gilded skyline blown
by ethereal fused mist
eager bard imbued
opal dream flotilla
beyond tarnish while
flash point chariots
of gleam-well canvass
astir or astern perforce
taunt a hued vase
porcelain image fest
for staunch earthbound
soul’s cry parched
stricken migrant famish
sapphire plume ray
bounty veridical
pink chalk sketch
granule blush pots
pearl beam spur
to jumpy pilgrim
grey elephant garb
drifter’s lull prone
metre of skewed
and barren glib
dull tossed aside
rambles and brambles
from cerebral quartz
beige quirky quill
nose twitch petrichor
glacé smelt rain
lava veined fillip
fervent fetal floe
ignited indigo inkling
as noonday nuanced
glance en dash
away from orange
peel cloud skies
toward spring rush
urban junction fare
as founding cue
for zeitgeist driven
western world eden
brick red hydrants
fricative wet spray
dousing hoarse busker
charged by crazy
pavement stamp
stoic poet in situ
tumult, hubbub,
rumpus heightened
by brazen banter
silver coin wobble
on carrageen rim
of oyster pebbled
pool a mecca
for stanza stymied
lingerer who scouts
eclectic threshold
born of cumbersome
blight on ingenuity
...however as he slothfully reclined
Banking himself on the cold steel bench
Dilemma gripped nastily on his shoulders;
The clouds pace above and as if alive
Winked at him- pulling memories from behind
"Oh yes, we are but a speck of a seed
A granule, puny and almost trivial
By how- minute as we- pull off an impact
Than a lone tree in a dry sunny land
And lighted cottage amidst dark forest indeed?"
Resounding they truly are, his mentor's words
Past and spoken, long uttered in the wind.
Yet it reverberates from the turquoise skyscrapers
To the bench he sat beside his proud Ford.
"For the proper or for the practical thing?"
An innocent query shrieking upon the silence.
a galleon of betterment versus virtue;
The bright clouds blots his space on the wide greenery.
"Affirmative." A salmon is going upstream.
Moon-bounced light, flint-hard
meets my eyes
cold air, sharp as a shard
of glass
slices my nose and sears
my ears
Yet this is warmth, the arena of life’s race
the cosmic granule on which we breathing
creatures cling
not the absolute, the devastating
cold deep space
Not a soul was once aboard
this universe
No heart soared
and sang its beauty, marveled its force
Mary Celeste sailed time’s ocean
with no crew to mark her course
At the still bucking caribou calf I see the grizzly gnaw
yet of nature’s splendour I cannot lose my awe
Lyricvixen's Fried Wonton Recipe
childlike memories with
an adult like twist
(just: a tiny dollop + ketchup & mustard & pickles
?? a McDonald's Mickey D's thing going on )
1.) ?? first overnight "soaking" 1/4 cup to 1/2 cup = RICE
(WHY = https://allpoetry.com/poem/14723469-Why-Soak-Rice-Overnight-by-Verlecia)
note - make for: breakfast, lunch, OR ----- dinner
(put all your ingredients on the counter)
* ??1/4 cup to 1/2 cup = rice soak overnight (swished around and
Rinse: clear cool water tap or bottle)
* boil 20 to 25 mins - drain excessive water off -
as cool tap water is running
cook: boil rice/ cook meat / steam carrots + same time
* ?? 1 LB ground Turkey or (most likely, beef?) (chicken: no clue? )
AFTER: -------- *first ten minutes of cooking*
??to MEAT?? (??altogether :COOK - meat -15 to 20 mins )
??*** ADD: 1 to 2 TBSP - Oyster Flavored sauce
((by: Lee Kum Kee Premium 9 fl oz))
??***ADD: 1 to 2 tsp - Thai Kitchen Premium Fish Sauce
in medium Skillet or pot.
??*** ADD: import by "2 to 3 TBSP" MUSHROOM SEASONING
NATURAL GRANULE ((by: Po Lo Ku Trading USA))
??** 30 ?? tiny baby carrots steamed --- for nutrition
(but -- can boil them - just until - take a fork)
(mash the ?? carrots - with a ?? potato masher or fork)
(note: the younger the taste buds - the less carrots
the older the taste buds the more carrots)
* now ?? rice - ?? meat - ?? carrots - ARE DONE
put altogether
add ?? CHEESE
**** Last: 1 cup: ?? Extra sharp cheddar cheese -
((by: great value))
?? ?? MIX into : meat/carrot/rice mixture
(NOTE: recipe is not written in stone - add more ?? cheese if your
waistline can handle it)
cooking OIL: 1/4 cup: canola oil & 2 tbsp of peanut oil
*_* Now the: Fried Wonton part
( wikiHow: How to Wrap Wontons )
?? rice -
?? meat -
?? carrots
?? CHEESE
** Wonton OR -- Egg Roll Wraps
** cooking oil
** Thai Kitchen Premium Fish Sauce
** MUSHROOM SEASONING NATURAL GRANULE
opt: ketchup & mustard & pickles
2 years ago
Small grains of sand come trickling down
Eluding all my reason's understanding
Flyspeck granule , all demanding
Time worn thoughts of days unwinding
Hourglass, my dark companion
Reminds me of the timeless questions
I watch sand fall and feel so small
A meager doll, that's all I am
One by one...how can it be
each speck will tick my life away?
I watch them flow.......they slowly slip
right through my hand and fingertips...
Each glimpse, so brief before they fall
Each grain is gone from yesterday
And fleet as rain, that comes today
I turn you up, around you go
Watching sand, is life rewound
Behind the glass the days decline
Like spindled thread, the time unwinds
Sand dwindles from my life...I see
The spindle turn, what's left of me
Will swirl and twirl, and drift away
To weave with threads of history
__________________________________________________________________
Inspired by Jeremy Martin's Contest: "Objectify Me" Hourglass/Doll/Spindle
All of a sudden (upon
immediately arising refreshed,
whar these lovely
bones did not ache
getting shut eye lasting
amply time for
fatigue to brake,
long enough for tear ducts
to generate sandy granule
size piece smaller
than a Jimmie
sprinkled atop piece of cake
an inexplicable fanciful
notion gripped me
to circumnavigate the globe
(then during or after
write a poem or journaled)
possibly like Sir Francis Drake
who lived (circa?1540 –
28 January 1596)
alight to adventure found
yours truly though
no longer tired
i.e. once adequately
rested and awake,
(despite sleeping respite
did reckon asthma
second daily nap
no...no...no...,this not "FAKE)"
ah ran to the community room,
cuz sigh did hanker for coffee,
sans one of the (perky,
finely grounded, Earthy)
residents, who faintly resembled
a (Lake Woebegone)
Minnesotan from Land o Lake
did brew, filter, and invoke love
said coffee she did make,
tubby extra sure boundless energy
would keep me alert for:
long day's journey into night
and while walking briskly
(this took about a bajillion
orbitz round the sun,
cuz ah...unfairly small feet
for this opaque
grown man hoop ping to partake
of sipping a hot cup of Joe,
(despite the outside temperature
feeling like a bajillion degrees -
courtesy of global warming)
mouth (analogous to
the dog of Pavlov)
started to salivate
for desperate caffeinated
thirst to slake
after a couple swallows...
ah (no idea why butta)
Zarathustra channeled
thru me didst spake.
Running river so bold and tranquil. beautiful color
absorbed into each other as patches of rainbows.
drenched into perfection.
The water flows as an elegant seagull.
Flowing up over the rocks nestled in line
and each tiny rock like a granule.
The tranquil but yet bold sound is like a
rumbling heart beat that tip toes
on your heart.