Best High Voltage Poems
sometimes I need to be
very in your face
make myself heard
let out that roar
and drama it up a score
the need for more
at the core
more intensity
vivacity
high voltage vibrancy
more "live it to the max" volitility
I'm here
right in your face
no comfort zone space
social media mad
posting the good
berating the bad
advocating this and that
slap in the face reality queen
believing she can make a difference
change the world philosophy
makin it reality
that's me
at other times
like a vapor, I rise
no trace of me
just a peripheral entity
no image
no sound
no feet on the ground
there but not there
giving all I've got
to float free from this spot
deactivate, hide
fight to stay alive
comatose complacency
that's me
strange...
the "in your face"
and "no trace" girl
both are....me
can you see?
Now...
in all honesty
in vital veracity
tell me...
who do you want me to be?
Eileen Manassian
You pour sugar,
I'll mix the spice;
So hot n' snazzy!
You bump and
I'll grind undercover,
So deep n' wild cherry
Sweat.
Not even whips; nor
Chains can break the
Tread.
Faster; faster don't
Loose the tricks baby,
Drive it in high voltage
Shock...Overdrive!!!
For you are my conductor
Of this sugar n' spice love,
Train chew choo!!!
Keep it comin, the heat
Rises as you pull out:
Cause we're the team that
knocks it out of the ball
Park together like: SUGAR N'
SPICE!!!! Tap... Tap...
Torturous separation. Intellectual blindness.
How your brilliance and intellectual dominance fascinate me.
Looking into your baby eyes wide and blue, I still see your knowing awareness, high voltage connections.
You laughed as a baby, with me, or at me?
How quicky did you discover our world's stupidity? When did your broken heart shear your funny bone, too?
Have you not yet accepted terms of this life, clicked the check box and exposed your vulnerability? Will you acceed to your lack of control? Will you reach out to the only concrete anchor we have? Will you embrace the lonely hopeless souls looking for the same relief you are desperate to know?
We all walk the same funeral march into our graves. Won't you pick up a piece of love, entertain some forgiveness, and carry some peace on the way to your certain destiny?
cold coke and coffee...
vintage bones high voltage style...
and...starting to write...
steamed thoughts andt...music...
and...on the shelf behind me...
dali clock balance...
there is weight to time...
right now it weighs four fifteen...
on our shoulders...
days get heavier...
midnight to noon...noon...midnight...
anyway...now...write...
i keep bad habits...
they are quite valuable...
...necessary times...
read...research...and dream...
science...maths...philosophy...
try to write a book...
different topics...theme...
keeping a notebook going...
to store ideas...
as necessary...
preparation...and hope...
something of it sells...
sand blown
To the legendary teacher I pay tribute
For imparting live voices to the mute
You paid gratitude
To the multitude
On the mountain top you stood
And all the heads understood
You never said ‘Never’
As admired in Geneva;
Tremendous work for real
Remains in me a thrill!
You explored the world
Left in me a living word
Instilled sight onto my mind
In place of being blind.
Domesticated me where I went wild
I lost you – I remain worried
Your education
Was a dedication
For my emancipation
Through marked participation
Hot springs of wits gush out of turgid mazards
Thus; unleashing veracity poses no hazards
From the famous profit and loss account
To how elasticity of demand is paramount
The art of blending species of flora in the gardens,
Merging ideas to console those carrying burdens
Powders mixed to thwart the woes of gout
For chemical blending of dust into ceramic tiles and grout
Artistic laying of tiles with no doubt,
Farmers add granules of compounds to combat drought
Mixing small grains into carling draught
Or into flour and oil for palatable dishes and crust
Spinning of the ginnery, linen craft
Crafting aprons which the chefs trust
Perpendicular tors of triumph echo from Arithmetic
Beneficiaries seducing lasses with cosmetics.
Rhyming rhythms of iambic pentameter;
With 13 amps flowing – records the ammeter,
Or 6 000 amps of the high voltage arc
Fusing rival elements into the Ark
Compelling hard cores of high resistance
Leaving them for complete ‘non-existence’.
We had signed the Teacher concession;
Of study, participation and concentration,
That was the ‘Moyo Treaty’.
Though the exam is always tricky
Finally we dilute the concentrate
Textbook to notes - our carbohydrate.
I recalled my teacher through secondary
That he knew no boundary
He taught to set apart
What had been one part
He taught negative effects of Mainstay,
But God has the main stay
That death has a long stay!
Water is enough to stay!
In that his last essay
He scribbled a lot I can’t say
Keys of wisdom I surrender
We can’t be put asunder
Teacher – pupil
Your words I fulfill
I can now feel
A gap I can’t fill!
Zorora murugare, Lala ngokuthula!
been sentenced to death
appeals process has expired
high voltage, seat wired
Electrical power
surges
through my body,
sending high voltage waves
to my brain,
shocking me
to my core.
The beats
are pulse pounding.
Raw energy
flows
through
my veins.
Flashes of rhythm
like a neon sign,
glowing
out from the darkness.
Lightning strikes
of pure power,
raging into fire.
Flames amplified by octane.
Burning away my soul,
until the smoke rises.
And I am lost in it.
Written by: Kelly Deschler
October, 14, 2013
For Nette Onclaud's contest - Groove It!
Heavy Metal
LIGHTNING
'//'/''/////''
lightning
electric, frantic,
crackling, zooming, glaring
howls, high-voltage, winds, mystery
foreboding, haunting, scheming
creepy, shady
omen
©
---------
Contest: Dane Ann Smith- Johnsen
Delving into Diamantes
By: nette onclaud
Kids are funny poets in disguise
Needing, wanting, blessing every day
From Sticks and stones
To climbing trees
Everywhere I go kids are running
Leaping out, playing hopscotch
Using high voltage of imagination
From bubble gum
To singing songs
Chasing frogs, children are so much fun
Bouncing balls and jump rope
Having the time of life every day.
From short box of sand,
To hand shadows on the wall,
Painting and decorating-
-an everlasting moment
A gleeful smile on every face
Kids are funny poets in disguise
Touching, feeling, sharing every day
From dreaming of candy
To wanting hugs
Playing outside in the rain,
Jumping in puddles of mud
Easy to satisfy with love
From merry go rounds
To down the slide
A born poet in disguise
Navigating the world,
through the best form of imaginary
From rough and tough
To - sharp and sweet
Dirty little fingers
Imaginary friend
Flying kites and frisbees
Kids are funny poets in disguise
Feeling, crying, yelling their hearts out
From chickenpox
To having the flu
Scared, on their first day of school
Scraping knees - kisses, please
Sometimes kids feel more than grown ups do
Kids are funny poets in disguise
Giving life the perfect meaning
~10-25-15~
Gently lying on my bed with my slickly Pink Pajamas,
I fell asleep like a peaceful baby,
then the windows opened in complete excitement,
and the seas breezed in like a stampede,
raising my night dress from legs to Breasts
leaving me nude, cold but blessed,
then came this guy with a bad intention crested on his chest,
I could not picture his face but could see him so well.
As his tongue kiss and lick,
high voltage current crossed my cheek.
the wet flexible muscle moved quite oblique,
then every action from now on seem to click,
causing sensation so quick,
I suddenly became helpless, weak and sick.
He trade his plight on site,
causing hormonal sparks to ignite,
not considering if he is wrong or right,
becoming more real and clean in my sight,
my increasing arousal, making the moment bright.
His groans made the feeling mutual,
producing pleasure beyond the normal ritual,
and making his movement on me so casual,
cupped my Breast to make the feeling factual,
squeezing them like a newly baked dough,
wheezing sounds emerging from my passionate screams,
and making my freezing feet jerk as he plays with the nipples.
Then down the road he goes to my shin,
spreading my legs made the sensation immeasurable,
the gradual heat from his romancing hand, simply unspeakable,
summed up with his commanding domination like a constable,
began an erotic scene so irresistible,
and since I am already grossly susceptible,
I yielded to his masculine touch as though already compatible.
Steadily and slowly, he drives through to my thighs like a convertible,
causing a body rhythm and sensation so explicable.
Caressing them gently as I wished,
reaching the focal point made me feel accomplished,
hoping to treat my secret garden with a mood so selfish,
making it his possession and ecstasy fully nourished,
complimented with a fantasy already established
As he was about penetrating like a beam,
I already reached the next level and ready to swim,
as real as this experience may seem,
I immediately woke up to realize it was just a dream
"Alpha Mnemonic"
Word
Image
without the image
no word
Language
a disease
communicable
by mouth
Alpha from brain
Omega passed
on her tongue
to yours
Ancient codex
genetically kissed
dispersed with
music intonation
gutteral
romantic
cerebral
never rehearsed
language
a virus formed
Mnemonic
from where exactly,
Within?
ad lib
ad lucem
ad libitum
from somewhere
other birthed
codex ancient
Alpha alien
genetic
hive driven
we are observed
writhing in our smalls
amphibian brained
we are still
loud embryos
clashing and clinging
unjust
we are
just learning exotic
movements
within our
blue pitri plate
circular in motion
we are agitated
not calm, chasing long versed
pre-recorded, re-rehearsed tales
a breath blown over us
language divides us
in love and belief
a disease
we are
we think
we speak
we spread
our languages
communicable
by eyes that
envision dreams
of others within
we are not knowing
with clandestined
futures and
over-ripe mouths
to succour
we simulate
ad lib
ad lucem
ad libitum
sensual
cold
science
hot and feverish
we lie
in bed
with irreverent
romantic fate
Omega
ohm resistant
high voltage
across the conductor
Always equal
Metaphors of unity
become
the Sequel
Blissfully ignorant
Ripe Red currents
juiced up and
Blue buries itself
warm palmed
on a soft beating breast
Ideology and
Romance
arrive
late
Memory
lost in the
Alpha
Mnemonic
Stuck in
the warm
and sticky
we grow cold
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
"Language is a Virus" / Laurie Anderson
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hIOnODxUTZQ
Amphibian antiquities from the age of normalcy
Pathologically festive creatures of the night
Verdant phosphor moon frogs bark their insistent mating call
Adorned with talismans, chanting mantras of maroon heroism
Conflagration of croaking becomes ritualized war of tongues
Imaginary walls dissolve in a primitive hallucination
Reveling in the sour, smoky breath of temporary lobotomies
Delirious mating rituals driven by besotted blind instinct
Hopping from one log to another as they founder
In brackish muck, the shore hidden in the velvet mist
As thousands of concealed pupils hungrily constrict
Like squirrels bouncing blithely down the high voltage wire
Deaf to the jeers and taunts of the pavement below
Until light's fracture pursues them back to their lairs
Scurrying for the inky, viscous holes in the soft, cool bank
4/23/16
© Thomas W. Quigley
He used to hunt and fish
Shoot the bull with ease
But now he has Huntington's Disease
He could cut a right of way
For the Rural Electric Company
With chain saw and saw blade
Now he can't even feed himself
For he has Huntington's Disease
He advanced up to line-man
Learning all about electric power
Going to work handling high voltage by the hour
Now he can hardly walk down the street
For he has Huntington's Chorea
He is at times a danger to himself
At times to people he meets
But is not right for he has H.D.
Sad but true it is inherited
If one has too many CAG's repeats
On their DNA they will come down with H.D.
I look around and all I see is emptiness.
Surrounded by souls but my mate is nowhere in sight.
I search deep into my thoughts in an alternate world of colors.
There is where you reside, along with the voices in the back of my mind.
I find you sitting on the edge of the lustful cliff, next to the fountain of love.
The zephyr striking your hair strands as the multicolored sun runs a radiant gloss over its floating self.
There I stand, leaning against the tree of reasoning.
Admiring your beauty and wondering if what I see is mirage.
To walk towards you, or to admire you from afar?
An unanswered question that hypnotizes me into the emotion known as infatuation.
How strange to detach in an already detached world.
Transcending into through my thoughts trying to find myself,
But instead I find you.
Are you an answer or are you a threat?
A perilous journey that drives me to a dead end.
A high voltage fence lies ahead, I frantically turn around only to find u standing behind.
Speechless with wide opened eyes I stare blankly at the figure in front of me.
What I was seeking has found me.
I standing in between Death and the truth.
To run away, or to face my fate?
So many questions yelling inside of my head trying to escape,
But not a single word is said.
Sitting on a park bench I get a grip of reality. Awakened by the pouring rain that washed away my wild thoughts.
Observing everything with virgin eyes.
Exploring every visible thing till I manage to go back to the state I was,
before I was assaulted by the thought of you.
Dr. Clement Moloch professes in torture.
He is always accompanied by Claire, his sister.
Moloch performs clandestine operations for governments.
He is responsible for the torture and death of insurgents.
Holland is journalist Jorge Hidalgo’s friend.
Holland learned Jorge’s life came to an end.
The doctor killed Jorge with high voltage electricity.
Senor Hidalgo was another victim of the doctor’s killing spree.
Hector Lomelin informs Holland of the predicament.
Lomelin attempts to talk Holland out of retirement.
Holland refuses, but later changes his mind.
Dr. Moloch is someone assassin Holland must find.
Holland learns Moloch and his sister are in Central America.
Moloch has been hired by the government of Guatemala.
There are several bodyguards protecting the doctor.
Moloch even has the aid of the American ambassador.
Holland takes out his targets one by one.
He is very adept with both the knife and the gun.
If you are wondering how this escapade will end,
all I have to say is, “See the movie, friend”.
Based on the 1984 film “The Evil That Men Do”.