Best Gyration Poems
The sea’s silver ripples gently undulate
to call upon the coast and tease my feet.
I am but a child. A threat, not a sign;
they let me play in the breeze and brine.
Waves in wild gyration join my summer dance,
to flash and crash upon the rocks and sand;
on to the sea, they buck then rush back to shore.
Bruised, I grope... fall...try to rise once more.
Ocean tides, crimsoned by the alpenglow,
toss garbage and sacks of religious debris.
The atheists, thieves and the devotees, watch
the spit of the evil one stick back to his own lips.
Hourglass sands are mostly unnoticed gray,
and when the tempest comes wailing, thrashing
from the sea, how disappointed it must be.
I, the child, the lost, am safe and anchored...shored!
Inspired by Craig's Seashore Theme - Not for Contest
06 February 2016
Categories:
gyration, beach, inspirational, introspection, life,
Form:
Free verse
Galactic curls in spirals swirl, entwining twisted mystery,
where time unrolls in blackened holes, no longer bright and blistery,
but writ like runes on starry dunes enclosed in cosmic history
Galactic dust, from novas' gusts, congesting empty spaces
once fatefully flung beyond the tongue of burnt out astral traces,
may recompress and coalesce in distant times and places
Galactic dwarves, like ancient wharves with silent planets mooring
yet still in spin though long done in, hide flares no longer soaring -
magnetic webs of eons ebb, in thermal fusion roaring
Galactic tides warp space divides, call forth sublime creation
while bending clocks in rippled shocks, unfolding time dilation
that seems to crown the flowing gown of pulsars' pulsed gyration
Galactic stew, a seething brew, midst background noise and chatter
like Chaos reigns, the sole remains of missing antimatter,
with just a trace to form a space-time, curved or somewhat flatter
Galactic glue holds something new: dark energy and matter
that interacts and counteracts the ancient Big Bang splatter:
a cosmic soup of strings and loops, a universal batter
Galactic life's replete and rife 'neath lactic milky wafer,
though solar gales leave unseen trails of cosmic rays, the strafer;
but nonetheless, one must confess, it seems there's nowhere safer
Submitted 21 Aug. 2016
Categories:
gyration, science,
Form:
Rhyme
SWEATS and SWEETS
Shooting sighs and moans we fired last night still glows
As tangoed silhouetted shadows hungered love dancing
Peeping breeze outside match our whispers and calls flow
Desiring to dip and sway like leaves our top wanting
Our hands and lips pastel strokes to light brushes show
Two bared torso's touching amidst silken sheets warmed
Daring palms to fingertips send fevers upon hungry hips
Heartbeats stomps and thumps like bass drums stormed
Thrusts and pumps to nerves draw carousels of round trips
Stirring sweats to trail slow on curves adorned
Sweet scented heart lips in nonstop loving caress
As tempos rising aplenty voice fusion fueled cries
Torso's now blossom blessed by their loving impress
Gyration waves ebb after reaching heavenly skies
Legs twine, breaths calm, sated souls fall finesse
______________________________________________________________
©J. A. Fraser and O. E. Guillermo
17.14pm, May 24, 2015
Categories:
gyration, beautiful, desire, feelings, love,
Form:
Rhyme
I’d extend an invitation
to all in the congregation
through this speech of inspiration
which is quite a compilation
yet I expect no adulation
and no gest of adoration
for in my own estimation
it’s a trifle occupation
clearing out the obfuscation
of a simple predication
o’er the course of this oration
through the rhyme of this dictation
See it’s a feebly built narration,
or an errant adaptation
sitting ‘top a weak foundation
grounded on some old quotation
writ in archaic notation
which seems to bear no strong relation
to the current held fixation
on the poorly built translation
which is more of a mutation
than an actual citation.
Now to give a brief summation
I will fight off the temptation
and my present inclination
to continue this vocation
and I’ll risk your irritation
with this act of abdication
and upset your expectation
by using this line instead
to add a bit of variation
as the only deviation
in my final recitation.
Now please stifle your elation
as I offer resignation
for I’m out of medication
and I fear the obligation
to interpret revelation
meant to spell out your salvation
is to my great consternation
causing meal regurgitation
and worse stomach ulceration
though at best the correlation
is just my imagination.
So I’m taking a vacation
to a tropical location
lost in wild vegetation
where I’ll watch in adoration
those grass skirts in their gyration
and sip drinks of fermentation
to avoid the dehydration
that always comes by deprivation
or by over-conservation.
If it’s any consolation,
after lots of vaccination
I’ll pursue my destination
through a week of navigation
on a vessel of flotation
as my mode of transportation
and forego all aviation.
So I plead, dear congregation
understand my situation
‘spite my freedom from taxation,
just suppress your indignation
toward my dreams of recreation
though I have no explanation
save this current presentation.
And though there is no valuation
for true acts of consecration,
after much consideration
if you’d show your dedication
with a generous donation,
I could use the insulation.
Amen.
Categories:
gyration, corruption, dedication, devotion, paradise,
Form:
Monorhyme
I can read for days,
and write through the hypes,
I can age old beer with emotional nights,
I can eat a whole pie,
and pray not to die,
I can sleep with no sound,
just like you hide behind the pound,
I can see the wind,
I can taste the sky,
I can see that I wasn't here first-
because...look! There! That's the real guy!
I can find a foundation,
and prove procreation-
But I can't do it alone,
I need gyration,
...So far away from being old,
from singing songs that get played out by the bowl,
...But the apes did there part,
and so did the Nazi's...
and so did the internet...
and so did the moxie...
Because real people like jocking-
and fake ones like coughing,
Needy nights keep popping!
While wasted winter is still flopping.
When a dead prince is beating and haughty-
you are still lying-
and you are still bossing!
So keep reading the facts,
keep praying for slack,
keep wasting precious brain,
and making another feel insane,
come out and mac!
Do it again, and again,
and again and again!
Be gone in a pack-
like micro germs-
you discovered my nack.
Categories:
gyration, inspirational, people, philosophy, poetry,
Form:
Verse
Shooting sighs and moans we fired last night still glows
As tangoed silhouetted shadows hungered love dancing
Peeping breeze outside match our whispers and calls flow
Desiring to dip and sway like leaves our top wanting
Our hands and lips pastel strokes to light brushes show
Two bared torso's touching amidst silken sheets warmed
Daring palms to fingertips send fevers upon hungry hips
Heartbeats stomps and thumps like bass drums stormed
Thrusts and pumps to nerves draw carousels of round trips
Stirring sweats to trail slow on curves adorned
Sweet scented heart lips in nonstop loving caress
As tempos rising aplenty voice fusion fueled cries
Torso's now blossom blessed by their loving impress
Gyration waves ebb after reaching heavenly skies
Legs twine, breaths calm, sated souls fall finesse
©J. A. Fraser and O. E. Guillermo 17.14pm, May 24, 2015
Categories:
gyration, i love you, love,
Form:
Rhyme
I had a dream that I was a butterfly
winged iridescent; my life would flutter by
as I was dreaming a dream of a dream of
my own lepidopteron being above.
Hither and thither I flightily flitted,
or so it seemed, as illusion befitted,
with troubles, eidolons, and nebulous fears.
And thus it continued for one hundred years.
In the Nymphalidae family was I,
akin to the nebula high in the sky
with beauty Cithaerial shimmering bright
in colors that cover the spectrum of light.
Knots and shells detailed in this Hubble capture
glow in light show that can bring about rapture,
cause soulful poets to sing about gladly
(seeing a butterfly wing about madly)
or brood over sadly with soft doleful sighs
the ultimate stages before its demise.
Stargazers perceive it with scientists’ eyes
and give facts and figures astronomer-wise.
The lobes of Twin Jet PN M Two Dash Nine
expand ever outward in pinion design
from central star system, in gaseous streams
of splendorous rainbows pellucid in gleams.
The binary stars at the nebula’s heart
go round one another in luminous art,
spending a century in this rotation,
and form the wings through their stellar gyration.
But let us return to the classical theme
of the Chinese philosopher’s famous dream
(which these rhyming stanzas have sought to extol),
where I found myself playing a starring role.
Diaphanous butterfly wings had I then
in the long-lived dream that I dreamed ten by ten
decades lastingly onward in cosmic time,
as did Sleeping Beauty in legend sublime.
Yet when I awakened, no alae had I.
No longer was I slender winged butterfly,
but veritably was a human once more,
with life to engage in, encounter, explore,
or just suffer through in a sentient state.
How would I create my tellurian fate?
Still I wondered if this was ‘reality’.
Could I be a butterfly dreaming of me?
To die, perchance dream; ay, indeed that’s the rub
that makes us endure the heartache and hubbub.
For death claims all beings as part of its sum.
And in sleep of death, who knows what dreams may come?
~ Harley White
______________________________________________
Inspiration for the poem was from the article, “The wings of the butterfly ~ New Hubble image of the Twin Jet Nebula”, of August 25, 2015, on the Hubble Space Telescope Org website.
Categories:
gyration, beauty, dream, image, inspiration,
Form:
Ekphrasis
I can feel the contractions in my heart,
Possibilities keep me from falling apart,
Open your emotions and leave open its eye,
The heart is about to birth new love,
Mother Nature blowing me kisses at night,
Real love has never felt this right,
Leaves falling from trees in jubilation,
The world saw your smile and went to gyration
The future looking bright, reality will never disease us,
A bond touched by the only hand of Jesus,
I have seen mankind worship the future memories that created us,
I silently asked them to give praise to the one above us.
Trying to figure out what this dream mean,
Then again I don’t want to spoil what could have been,
A real fantasy.
Categories:
gyration, fantasy,
Form:
Free verse
I felt I was full of affection
'Till he started enumeration,
His ego inflation
My interpretation,
Had compounded that situation.
He'd better show appreciation
And maybe even some elation
If he wants gyration
Or any sensation,
And Brother, that is my summation.
Copyright © 2006 Jacquelyn Sturge
jay5
Categories:
gyration, funny, people
Form:
Limerick
Our convergent joint
The rallying point
Mecca to the Pastors and Sisters
Jerusalem to the “Alhajas and Alfas”
Refuge to the weak
Shield to the strong
Nowhere on campus like our building
Life made more lively
Added life to the lifeless
Ever enliven to light up a dead soul
Restore spirit to the soulless body
Nowhere on campus like our
World Trade Centre
Goods and services are synchronized
Prizes are greatly subsidized
To augment sense of belonging to our belongings
No wonder, young and old ones throng in and out
For more copies of pieces of paper
Scrupulously they stay glued to
Modern screen for good job
Ours is the biggest edifice in Nigeria
Ours is the best in Africa
Ours is amongst the best in the world
Swimming pool completes the unparallel
Beautiful scenery that I behold every
Midnight that I lay my head on the
Cushion to cushion the tedious effect
Incurred in my sojourn on campus
Twenty four hours was for
Wisdom chicken and chips
A delicacy prepares with wisdom
Which often times leaves Couples off wisdom
As they whisper pouring out farrago of lies
Unto each others hearing
In a latter day hobo’s manner
Like a Romeo in the world of a Juliet
Savoring the dishes
Drinking all drinkable and all gulp-able
Browsing and dancing to the
Rhythm of Yahoo and “Aluta” gyration
Ours was unarguably the best
Our building clad a chamber
Where the Honourables meet
Where ideas and views are chewed
Where political and cerebral jaw jaw are cross fertilized
Where rhetoric and oratory seed are swallowed
Where we read and blessed with “8 points”
Where we digest skills to become splendid
Managers of human and material resources
Our library is incomparable in quantity and quality of materials
All these before they came
They came, they vandalized
They came, they destroyed
They came, they extorted
They came, they collected and replaced for man
Receipt of hopelessness and anguish
They came . . . killed the spirit
They came . . . gauged the soul
They came . . . stole the body
But . . .
Like the Son of Man
The spirit will rise again
Like an “Ayekoto” bird
The gauged soul will escape and fly away
Like the Biblical Zion
The stolen body will be returned
And restored for better glory.
Alayande Stephen Tolulope
August 12th 2005
4.00am
Categories:
gyration, adventure, nostalgia, philosophybody,
Form:
Under the disco ball,
a sensual gyration-
She knows he's watching.
Categories:
gyration, dance,
Form:
Haiku
The bar-tailed godwit
caught birddom by surprise
When word got out
just how far this bird flies
A juvenile Limosa lapponica,
satellite tag 2-3-4-6-8-4
flew nonstop from Alaska
to the Tasmanian shore!
13,560 kilometers nonstop,
eleven days and nights
A new world record for
marathon bird flights
"From Alaska to Tasmania?
The devil, you say!"
cried ravens and crows,
"Every bird knows,
claiming to fly 8400 miles
To the Tasmanian isles—
is the height of audacity!
No bird has the capacity
We protest with pugnacity
Demanding veracity!"
The godwits conveyed
a very chill groove
They had, after all
nothing to prove
having set the prior
world records in '20 and '21
A controversy was brewing
Would their achievements
be undone?
A commission was appointed
for a bird's-eye review
into the facts of the matter
the truth to pursue
Wise owls were chosen
to adjudicate this claim
To settle once and for all
who deserved the acclaim
Only item considered
had scientific backing
Since satellite data
Allowed accurate tracking
Of the tagged young bird's
ultramarathon flights
The facts indisputable
No need for bird fights,
ending investigation into
this migration gyration
Bar-tailed godwits awarded
the Oiseau de Plume
for being the farthest nonstop
flying bird in the room
The Arctic terns too
received acclamation
For flying the farthest
In their migration—pole to pole,
24,000 miles each year
causing most birds present to
stand up and cheer
in spontaneous applause—
But not all birds were willing
To concede their cause
Displaying proclivity
to resist the festivity
The crows and ravens
As they stormed out the door
vowed in unison, wings clenched,
"Nevermore!"
Categories:
gyration, bird, flying, world,
Form:
Light Verse
Telepathic Music
Drip-drop, drip-drop
On the the tin roof
Above our rustic garages
We sat on our couches
Silently gazing at the sloping lawns
Overlooking the rivulet
Warming our hands
On our mugs of
Aromatic costa rican coffee
My teenaged cherub
Sprang up at the sound of
Tin-tin, tinkle-tinkle
Jingling of our wind-chimes
Our aural garden ornament
She winked and dashed out
Into the lawns stretching her hands
As if to catch the wind
Kicked off her shoes
Unpinned her long wavy copper tresses
Tapping hip-hopping in the slushy grass
Joy vibrating in every gyration
Breaking down all norms of restrictions
A freedom of the heart
A fluidity in the music of the soul and heart
Heard by her lissome body
Freely expressed by the gravity of her body
My joy knew no bounds
At the telepathic music
Heard by her and transmitted to me
As the rain gods continued with
Their harmonica for their audience
October 4, 2015
contest: So I Thought Of This Line
Sponsor: Francine Roberts
Categories:
gyration, dance, daughter, music, mythology,
Form:
Pastoral
Timidity ran all over me,
I got frightened for the day
Corpers march out of the camp
Bidding service to their homeland bye
A compulsory year for “ajuwaya”.
Of waste to many
Of hilarious time out to some
Of acculturation to others
Of enslavement in a glorified den.
With the inscription NYSC on white top
Brownish khaki below
Para-force orange boot to march
Ajuwaya’s hope dashed after 365 days
Dream killed for future seeds
Aspirations in korper’s khaki cut off
As they are unleashed to joblessness
Scattered into hopelessness of labour market
Here comes the “korpersion”
In search of future in confusion
Outside the very den after gyration
In a kingdom with no future.
Alayande Stephen. T
2.55pm
17th August 2006
Ajuwaya- a term used for fresh undergraduate who are
Undergoing one year compulsory service to their father land.
Still on my way, but back to IPC from Apagbon in Lagos on
The behest of IPC Chairman, Lanre Arogundade.
Significantly, it was the pass out day for corpers as they don
the streets in their Khakis.
Categories:
gyration, adventure, confusion, devotion, education,
Form:
Free verse
Creation
slips off firm gyration,
Stark convulsions, wildly fluctuate.
Where fanatic zealots refuse to deviate
when the blare of trumpets finally obviate
any need for recourse for the dead?
Watch the moon, rusting red.
Feel the dread.
Categories:
gyration, allegory, faith, religion, visionary
Form: