Best Hermetically Poems
The space between stars contains countless hidden gems
A locked tight treasure trove, opened up by our lens
Prisms split apart light spectra, and dopplers change shifts
We watch galaxies do cartwheels across great rifts
The space between stars, zooms us backwards in time
Before gods arrived, to claim the cosmos divine
In turn challenged by telescopes on trellised stilts
Optics probe heaven, to find it’s still being built
The space between stars is empty, No! not a chance
Black holes wolf down photons, spinning neutron stars dance
on nebulous clouds, stirring up pillars of dust
Remnants from a time, when supernovae went bust
The space between stars, is black magic synergy
Far-out matter thrives, tripping on dark energy
All goes unseen, beyond the human naked eye
Minds can sense its presence, but are stripped bare of why
Of course we share gravity, and are loosely bound
Tests our reason, so hermetically profound
The draw of the universe will never expire
Its paradox tears apart, yet keeps us entire
Our hearts are captivated by your winsome smiles,
Every time we see you, we got the sun shining in our eyes;
You got a bundle of charms that many rarely have,
The invisible nimbus on your head is as white as a dove.
You made the flowers bloom in our home garden,
Since the time you were born you’d given us more strength;
You were sent to us as our most precious gift from heaven,
For you, nothing will we ask more to God than to add our life’s length.
Dearest child, our great joy each time we feel the warm grip of your hands,
Our love for you is unconditional, extreme happiness is hard to understand;
We knew that you came in our life to hermetically seal our everlasting love,
With your adorable look, an angel in your eyes reminds us to thank Him Above.
Oct. 15, 2013 9.30pm
By Leonora Galinta
First Place
Contest: An Angel In Your Eyes
Judged: 11/11/13
Sponsor: Poet Gail Angel Doyle
Note: A poem for couples/ parents who are so grateful and happy to have a child.
Love rang my heart where I rebuffed her advances, hoping to heighten the longing love felt despite my fickle indifference, complacency and obstination. Love walked away and stoutly locked her door hermetically. I rue my puerile procrastination...
Love slips into longing
hearts quiet, unheard, unseen
until it vanishes.
(upon inspection of varicose veins)
Above and below married
Micro-cosmically, not as Hermetically sealed
As previously thought.
Something very physical reveals itself
In the hue of everything spiritual,
Connects outside with inside,
Branching outward, eternally grounded,
Charged with the memory of the throbbing core;
The vain pulse of plasma
Ostracizing the sun.
The outward branching, leafless as slumbering trees,
Remember the warm center
As they gaze into the light of a frozen world.
And she told him that she would love him
like no other woman ever will.
The accented sensuality to complete his sentences,
was her proclamation.
The Egyptian cotton blanketing her natural breasts,
sliding up his arms
as she wakes him for morning consummation;
epicenter consumption.
She told him that she craves him
beyond physical crux.
He was her equilibrium;
A key to Pandora’s shattered box.
Its fragmented sins,
now synchronous with redemption’s awakening.
Even after all these years…
Yet her heart
was wrapped
by hermetically sealed contention.
…
She told him
that she would love him
more than any other.
More than any other…
…like no other…
More than any other…
As she
strokes the pride
of another.
© Drake J. Eszes
The Passage through the Sea, Translation of Pierre Emmanuel’s Passage de la mer by T. Wignesan
It’s not enough to be torn apart from the night
The night must be made to give birth.
Now this earth’s a sealed-off orbit
This sea an abdomen without lips.
When the ground and the sky are not but one wall
When water flowing into water becomes totally welded
Death appears hermetically maternal
At the moment when one should be saved.
How many times Oh ! How many times
Fetus expelled without the feeling of your being born
Would you want to be re-engendered before being
expelled ?
You despair always you hope
Until the Day of all Days.
Here between Migdol and the sea
You said : « Was there not in Egypt
Enough graves for us to be buried in ? »
You wanted to return to Misraïm
To consume your last piece of bread
In front of your burial pit.
You know of the anguish the death
Of the infant who has to be born.
For him in that mortal matrix
If he showed more resistance
He would want to be born contrary to nature
He suffers the horrible imminence of the Wind
The space beyond space itself.
Here at least forever in an embryonic state
Without being born he is.
But the Wind endows you through all the fibers
He is of your fiber
He praises adoring blessed glorified
He forces the lips of the sea through your lips
In order to be pushed outside by your scream
You are born here.
It’s not enough to be pulled out of Egypt
It was necessary to pave your entry into the desert
Exaggerate the aridness as the promised land
In such a way that your breath surging up to the heavens
Forms with its dust a column of fire
Which never-ending
Going through him
Conducts.
(Tu, O.C. t. II, p. 549)
© T. Wignesan – Paris, October 20, 2014
Racking anguish vandalize my soul,
as my pen crawls across the empty page,
leaving the mirror image of my vitality.
A futile exercise turns into self pity.
A useless effort in self agitation.
Months of inactivity has left my muse
abused, misused, defused.
It seems I can write no more.
Is that correct? Is it the writing or the muse?
Writing is discipline, a few words each day.
Do I countervail my imagination?
For subjects must be born within the soul,
that soul I forgot about months ago.
Should I dream of valleys green,
or ice capped mountain unassailable?
Is my muse so hermetically sealed.
Perhaps I'll find it again....or perhaps not.
A Silent One Contest
a tear fights his way through desolation
the purple summer flower is snapped
hope expired to memorial
green fields are hermetically sealed
mud splashes fouling soft cheeks
the worst in humanity has been reached
childhood dreams buried by cruelty
salt burns painful in bleeding wounds
monsters shuffling around
nailing hard steel in bare walls
behind the scenes reigns vipers
ruthless sounds die away in the cosmos
@ Bianca & Gerhard
only by a fluke did I manage
to worm winning trust
among Christmas elves and reindeer
confident this generic guy,
would never breach scandalous
tidbits, into a an underground impregnable
air-raid shelter, the motley crue
tied blindfold over my eyes, didst steer
me hermetically sealed
sound (cloud) proof bunker
while ensconced (security detail munchkins,
who just so happened tubby *****
minded entrance portal)
only after getting the thumb up signal,
whereat nose pies planted
espionage surveillance devices
the chief head honcho and attendents,
Smoky and the bandits respectively,
magically, andhandily did ap pear
and despite one hundred percent bug free,
a whispered stance opted just to make sure
no unwanted eavesdropper could overhear
plus every participant swore an oath, cuz
any leaked real or “FAKE” information,
would spell imminent demise to be near
the upshot, sans grave emergency
d escribingclandestine arraignment
involving some rogue elf
(most likely at least two),
and a misbehaving reindeer
(names withheld to avoid any spoiler alert,
plus this entire kit and caboodle
necessary to help Saint Nick
got wind, (and subsequently reined in)
a rave party with orgiastic
sex, drugs and rock and roll
that a band aided elf(ves)
laced with Pepper Minstix
(anonymously hashtagged Sodom and Gomorrah)
sullied pure as the driven snow repute,
when alias Sugarplum Mary (“FAKE NAME”)
detected snorting cocaine
code named Alabaster Snowball,
while additionally
besmirching her virginity
via coital cavorting
amidst a Bushy Evergreen
shaking as if frenzied
with feverish boogie woogie flu
which seductive, prurient,
and master baiter friend zeed
(spunky gangnum style) Shinny Upatree
which could slay Wunorse Openslae reputation
as substance abusers,
and sex offenders if not worse.
Perfect! (Hypochondria?)
I’m not sick. I’m not ill. I’m not crazy.
There is nothing wrong with being perfect.
My mommy told me so.
"illness anxiety disorder" It’s just a label….Just a name
Like thousands of other names that I can’t say, I can’t spell
Such as the thousands of lethal viruses and bacterial pathogens
Out to get me. I know they want me.
As they try to get inside to kill me.
They cross my path without a care
Don't even wipe their feet
They are here! They are there! They are everywhere!
So what. I don’t care.
I quit my job and wife and life to deal with them
And deal with them I will
They won’t find me. No sir!
I’ll never leave my house again
I hide in disinfectant waters in day
In scalding hot baths and microwave ovens at night
Me and Purdy; Purdy is my sparrow in a hermetically sealed cage
He would sing all day if he were alive today
But he never was. He never existed
As you can see he is plastic
Plastic birds don’t sing but they are free
Free from infections, infestations, nasty things found in nature
My birdie is sterilized, sanitized, purified…. like me
We wear our hypoallergenic suits and masks
Which, when applied properly, qualifies us as being clean
Keeps us alive for the time being
Oh please for the sake (and sock e)
of brethren deemed friendly, i be
see-ch ye with genuine humility
to desist launching nuclear missiles.
This American bloke put his lock,
stock and barrel of gunmetal faith
in mister Dennis Rodman to serve
as a figurative lightning rod against
any aggressive actions that would
set in motion the end of civilization.
Not only would the majority of homo
sapiens (yes, some clusters of earth-
linked yahoos might still remain a
live) suffer a nasty, short and brutish
death, but also other flora and fauna
could be equally annihilated. Under
stand able, those grievances against
sanctions against the populace of north
Koreans (who most likely experience
unfair hardship) fuels resentment against
the hegemony of western powers. Many
of these societies authoritatively bran
dish their devout pledge for concurrence
with democratic principles. Any endemic
protestations declaiming objection to
the American way affect an immediate
alarm. Imposition of so called "puppet"
regimes get forcibly installed those
countries leaders who run counter to
capitalistic productivity. This one anon
a muss citizen of those fifty states also
takes umbrage how might of american
to predominate and demand that other
nations follow suit solely based on what
agrees with those like minded in power
sans the brotherhood/sisterhood of vast
swaths of the global population. No
great expectations (by dickens) to affect
passionate sentiments per those pea
poles somewhat hermetically sealed
off and separated (viz - by the demilitarized
zone) from the billions of other human
beings. Thy sole missive from one older
mwm dreads locked linkedin catastrophic
chain reaction of events once atomic war
fare triggered by the disgruntlement over
some differences in outlook could possibly
resolved via "active listening" and access
to exchange a word of reconciliation. As
one flawed chap prone to his own bouts
of anger, he attests that more positive plea
sing results can prevails with the treat of
world war three diffused in a manner that
plays less havoc once unleashing of weapons
of mass destruction occurs!
Virtual trophies (wife for I)...
offered, husbanded, and collected
when winning solitaire
Nothing beats that exaltant rush of adrenaline
watching the computer generated cards
automatically routed
to their respective suite (spot)
(after they get turned face value up)
generates countenance to evince a grin.
This heart felt diamond in the rough
gamboling ace of a man
learned to call a spade a spade
soon after joining the culture club.
Within an alternate universe
another Matthew Scott Harris
destiny manifested beckoned uber lyft,
his militant doppelganger
(created entirely of antimatter
since birth of universe)
decked out in camouflage fatigues,
dead set on collision course
to annihilate each other
if and/or when we inevitably meet.
No place exists for yours truly
to run and hide
especially hermetically sealing
(while waxing poetic) himself
with booking selfsame mortal
within a read (reed) out hideaway,
hence impossible mission
to ward off sealed fate
lest (markedly) both of us
(even if reaching out
to bridge reconciliation)
blown to smithereens
methinks I and mine nemesis
would be wiped out
(cue the Surfaris song titled wipe out)
as if Thanos snapped.
The aforementioned scenario
far more horrifying than
livingsocial within human zoo
where *****sapiens primates,
an aggregate of many
a cruel genealogical yahoo
outliers rowdy unlearned without xue,
an essential constituent
of the body electric kool aid acid test
smartass who spout colorful retorts
analogous to up the wazoo,
but much more explicit,
therefore audiological
viewer discretion advised
unless one feels confident
to cast a magic spell using voodoo
ideally invoking debilitating, horrifying,
lustrating newt trill eye zing
permanent state of danger
or threat accursed
trumpeting lout can never undo
especially when joker is wild
whereat apparatus tricked out
fastening pollexes courtesy thumbscrews
perchance re-evaluating my person
when crafting image
conveying torturous schlock
after ye did pleasantly review
other writings of mine that did skews
toward humanitarian connectedness
painstakingly minding my peas and queues
wracking my brain
regarding creativity to peruse.
the great bard and Elizabethan play wright
begetting complete dramaturgy
explaining fate hollowly airtight
succor starved, riddled smitten tattered
sir real body politik blight
under whelming enthusiasm
witnessed blank quarto copyright
more tragedy than comedy
visited mine biography to date
expressed as dearth
decayed delight
devoid absent audience
hip...hip...hooray
three chairs to excite
zero non-exhaustive effort
summoning stagecraft
imagining hardened
faced spectators
muted nonexistent ovation,
sans anticlimactic action
superfluous stage fright,
thus retrospective stance taken
billeted envisioned
anachronistic gunfight
signifying emotional crisis,
especially high anxiety
pained height
incorporating mine every birthday
newly aged since
LIX January
thirteenth orbitz insight
oppressive ominous gloomy glum
obscuring highland dale light
whereby substantial sole action
asper arrival of midnight
celestial curtain call enclosing
somber static theatrical night
hoop fully explaining deadening
copious heavy breathing
followed by extended lapses
of utter silence outright
spartan mise en scene
absent agit props
nsync with holographic thespians
staid theatrics displaying plight
uneventful sleepy representation quite
leaving entire cast
(singular char actor his shun
of myself) remaining
soporific steadfastly right
lee measure for measure
much ado about nothing
hermetically sealed, NON GMO
vacuum packed no sight
worth seeing on the twelfth night
starkly barren aimless
padlocked mortal soul asylum
no, not even Romeo and Juliet
love's labor's lost passion
a comedy of errors,
viz unbridled trothplight
mock king lear ring alls well that ends well
where me crushed psyche doth unite
with death vis a vis
as demise of Julius Caesar
et tu Brutus I in vite.
...exhortations against Ole Saint Nick
(alternately titled untold treasured shenanigans of Santa)
his elves and reindeer discovered only
by colluding via "FAKE" fluke
did I manage to worm winning the trust
among Christmas elves and reindeer
confident this generic guy,
would never breach scandalous
tidbits, into an underground impregnable
air-raid shelter, the Motley Crue
tied blindfold over my eyes, didst steer
me hermetically sealed,
which crawl space required me to hunker
sound (cloud) proof bunker
while ensconced (security detail munchkins,
who just so happened tubby *****
minded entrance portal)
only after getting the thumb up signal,
whereat nose pies planted
espionage surveillance devices
the chief head honcho and attendants,
Smoky and the bandits respectively,
magically, and handily did appear
and despite one hundred percent bug-free,
a whispered stance opted just to make sure
no unwanted eavesdropper could overhear
plus every participant swore an oath, cuz
any leaked real or “FAKE” information,
would spell imminent demise to be near
the upshot, sans grave emergency
describing clandestine arraignment
involving some rogue elf
(most likely at least two),
and a misbehaving reindeer
(names withheld to avoid any spoiler alert),
plus this entire kit and caboodle
necessary to help Saint Nick
got wind, (and subsequently reined in)
a rave party with orgiastic
sex, drugs and rock and roll
that a band-aided elf(ves) hest
laced with Pepper Minstix
(anonymously hashtagged Sodom and Gomorrah)
sullied pure as the driven snow repute,
when aliasing Sugarplum Mary (“FAKE NAME”)
detected snorting cocaine
codenamed Alabaster Snowball,
while additionally besmirching her virginity
via coital cavorting amidst a Bushy Evergreen
shaking as if frenzied with feverish boogie woogie flu
which seductive, prurient,
and master baiter friend zeed
(spunky Gangnam style) Shinny Upatree
which could slay Wunorse Openslae reputation
as substance abusers,
and sex offenders if not worse.
While resting in the Florida room
A bug stopped by to puzzle me
Uninvited, nasty and un-groomed
My property is hermetically sealed
Germs and dirt are the enemy
Insects are strictly forbidden
This invasion makes me twitch
I sprits it with a water device, (Not to kill)
That would be unkind
It struggled on the floor, a small black form
Apparently uncomfortable with the water cure
Contorted with six legs writhing in circles
Antennae pushing off the liquid spray
Another creature with two additional legs
Came up from God knows where
Killed the insect instantly, dragged it off as planned
I have always had respect for insects
Their abilities to survive is astonishing
Perhaps if it had wings and could fly
The bug might survive
Trespass would have been the only crime
Sooner or later it would end up in some web I guess
Wings fit nicely there for such pest
Eight legged creatures seem to have a better edge
Over ones with only six and the uninvited guest