Best Hysteric Poems
In The Dusting Of The Springtime,
Sweet Scented Thoughts Of Yesterday,
Mingle with songbird-bluebird chime,
Frankincense-rose-musk-mixes spray...!
White lilies kissed by the soft breeze,
Undergo strange hysteric trance;
Butterflies, dragonflies, and bees,
To the songs of nightingales, dance...!
Reminiscence of our romance,
Floats like peacock plumes in the air;
Aches caused by your first piercing glance,
Evoke demise and rebirths, rare...!
Come, love, let's savor the spring scent,
Toward peaks of love let's ascent...!!!
27 May 2023
In The Dusting Of The Springtime Sweet Scented Thoughts Of Yesterday Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mystic Rose Rose
Rhymes Checked At: Rhyme Zone
Syllables Checked At: How Many Syllables
All he can see is at the end of a pencil,
Sedated by a 3 inch piece of lead,
Self-portraits are of only a stencil,
A picture stains the paintings in his head,
How far does the land go beyond the window?
Far enough to see the end of the day.
And does the bird fly as far as the wind blows?
Far enough to find a warm nest to lay.
Her ears scorched by the sound of scorn,
Laughter tears and turns tears to her eyes,
Bows to down into the form as to which she was born,
And dreams of dissolving into a dawning sky,
How numb I have become only known by numeric?
Taught only in the trenches of comparison.
How cold the hand grows held up in hysteric?
Endure and you’ll ensure your end, my son.
Villanelle: Dare you stain the portals of your deity’s sacrosanct citadel
Dare you stain the portals of your deity’s sacrosanct citadel
Which mortal mammal’s primal address the rapists desecrate
Be not taken aback the yoni passage leads astray linga infidel
Seeds of life ever come tumbling from out the sacred temple
There to greet in meiosis and in secret reverence gestate
Dare you stain the portals of your deity’s sacrosanct citadel
Do heathen women toiling in the dark draw the blinds on hell
And Gorgon heads of demons deep in them shudder vibrate
Be not taken aback the yoni passage leads astray linga infidel
Yet deafening tunnel shrieks of the human species’ s carousel
Re-winds obsessive tinnitus ear-pounding thuds to celebrate
Dare you stain the portals of your deity’s sacrosanct citadel
Who keeps the sanctum sanctorum well-cleansed spiritual
But the defiant procreator linga tireless distending inebriate
Be not taken aback the yoni passage leads astray linga infidel
He who bestial disembowels the temple in a frenzied spell
His own mother disowns and hysteric squats on life’s dictates
Dare you stain the portals of your deity’s sacrosanct citadel
Be not taken aback the yoni passage leads astray linga infidel
© T. Wignesan – Pars, 2014
There was a dense maiden of Madore.
Who could not despise men more.
She saw them as barbaric
They turned her hysteric
'Til she sensed what they’re good for.
laugh
comical, hysteric
guffawing, chuckling, snickering
cheerfulness, amusement, squeal, caterwaul,
grieving, whimpering, sniveling,
upset, lachrymose,
cry
Date created: 06/13/2021
The soft self-praise of your own heart,
Is this not our lost secret?
Bring forth that feathering truth
Like fields of canary bells
You ring, you're ringing,
Ringing from the rib cage.
Poetry is the land where all rules fade,
Rules for yourself and rules for others, replaced with spools
Of no code though every color
As the innermost leads this boundless, heralding march,
march, marching, towards where?
Does it matter? Cry your bloody tears out.
Let loose the hysteric mess of a laugh.
No manic tide can take the seed of your joy
And turn it to some shriveled past.
Though what of some perverse prattle?
Is that not wild life, too?
You are writing now.
You are always writing now, the source of blooming miracle,
And aren't we all blooming into something ugly or radiant?
Confounded or brackish? What madcap nonsense of exteriors we wear.
What a looney song we are.
But what's inside, what's inside the clamor of it all?
Are you forcing words into the dumb quiet?
Your one raised hand rising out of infinite dunes?
Tell your face it's okay.
Relax your grip on the organs of your body.
Write this crazed flood and smash through the dam.
What dam? Damn the dam.
Your nose is a dam,
Right between your eyes.
Oh, your gorgeous eyes!
(Have I told you?)
You are the riptide, the holy puddle, the frayed lace.
Now set yourself anew.
Blooming, blooming and true.
Yesterday's stub in your hand, the Life Fair goes on and on.
Go today. Go tomorrow.
Relish in the joy as much as the sorrow.
No form, no organization, no verse.
A crescendo followed by silence and screams.
A wooden home locked inside of a concrete tome,
With a world collapsing while we keep relapsing
And again the past resurges; what we bury tends not to stay that way,
After all, the piper must have his pay.
A dark closet and we’ve seen fit to rot in it
The Devil in the details told me to be his advocate.
And El Dorado’s gone because a city of gold just wasn’t sustainable
But if it’s attainable then you’re damn right it’s going to be painful.
And death isn’t an option for those of us who feel compelled to keep walkin’
On the sand-- or is it ash? It doesn’t really make a difference while they slash
Their prices by depriving kids of rice and pin open their eyelids
For their twenty hour shifts ‘till they try to plummet themselves off of
Concrete cliffs.
And Macondo is Columbia, unless it’s in the Gulf of Mexico,
but you already knew that, Mr. Critic.
But what are you going to do with it?
Frankenstein was the man, not the monster
The confusion first came when our blame ceased to reclaim
An association between dissociation and our relation
To whatever the truth may have been
‘Cuz it certainly isn’t the truth anymore.
Blank pages in our textbooks and you ask me to memorize it
Regurgitate it and tell you what you want to hear--
My foods teacher says no eating in her class
And sees fit to harass her students with her utter lack
Of discernible knowledge while we cook some Kraft Mac and Cheese.
But who can blame her with the pay she’s getting?
No Telemachus on the television—Nor do we see Stephen
Not while the Situation is breathin’, cuz that’s what’s loved by the station.
Where’s the frustration? The indignation with the ignorant elation
That comes with living in a used-up world?
Dig a treasure map out of the trash and get it unfurled,
You walk to the ‘X’, but it’s been dug up—no wonder it was in there in the first place.
And the esoteric is what they find hysteric ‘cuz they’re all in on the joke
That they find so funny ‘cuz the system is broke.
Politics in work, in life, in marriage, in LIFE,
The wall of separation was torn down it seems, and soon you’ll find them tapping your dreams.
Enjoy watching your people’s nightmares, O Creators.
Tell us it’s what we want.
Life's a Beach!
Upon the beaches –
Waves will gallivant.
Singing playful songs.
Reverberating.
Joyfully spraying.
Tides crashing splashing
Washing sandy shores –
Rhythmically, cleansing.
Puffs of air through leaves
Softly rustling breeze.
Wafting salty air.
Silence floats out there.
Seagulls squawk above.
Sandpipers shuffle.
Pattering in sand.
Flapping wings sounding.
Motors roar; pop! Pop!
Tires reach the beach.
Screeching to a stop.
Slurping soda pop.
People shout with flair.
As they gather there.
Playing volleyball.
Screaming one and all.
Children find shark’s teeth.
Sand squeaks beneath feet.
Beach balls bounce around.
Thumping on the ground.
Silent sizzling.
Brightly blazing flesh.
Hysteric laughter.
Sunburn! Ouch, ouch, ouch!
©
April 15, 2010
Too long have I been staring at this cruel blank page before me,
My crazed, hysteric mind screaming and imploring
I know there is a message that's dying to come out—
I need to fill this confounded page without the slightest doubt!
It's a simple predicament to manipulate,
Into a mass of thought
A futile attempt to insinuate,
Weak hints are left with naught
I sit here in silent desperation,
What can fill this page?
I slap myself in indignation,
My eagerness becoming rage!
Like roaches sporadically running from light
My thoughts are but a haze
The words I write just don't seem right,
On this cruel blank page!
How finely twilight applies lipstick to the sky!
His brush touches each fold as the sky does shy.
Eyebrows and eyelashes he so minutely paints,
As though powerful prayers and blessings of the saints...!
Why do Nyx and Hyades at this juncture weep,
As though widowed by Zeus lost their eternal sleep?
Maiden stars get wet and miss their timely twinkle,
Rain, as though hysteric, on clouds showers sprinkle...!
The moon, entering, like a bold ballet dancer,
Blinks as though to the night's quiz he has no answer;
Nature, as routine, her seasonal games enacts,
Nyx, Hyades and Zeus act as per rhythmic facts...!!!
03 March 2023
In Bloom Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joseph May
Farmer Frank
raises redickilous
alliterative animals at
Farmer Frank's
Furry, Feathery Funny Farm:
Comedical Cows
Daffious Donkeys
Punnious Pigs
Tongue-in-cheeky Turkeys
Chortifiable Chickens
Showoffitty Sheep
Buffoonic Bulls
Offbeaten Ostriches
Goofian Goats
Hilaric Horses
Slapstickitty Steer
Riotful Roosters
Laughening Llamas
Howlinious Hounddogs
Cartoonic Cattle
Rip-Roarable Rabbits
Hoomerous Hoot Owls
Looniful Lambs
Hysteric Heifers, and of course...
Yakkity Yaks.
Don't talk back!
written 24 Aug 2020
Showing me the expensive bangle on her wrist
She asked, "Will you buy me something like this ? "
If you do, you can take me out again
What do you say ' Yes ' or ' No ' ?
Looking at the bangle I knew it cost a lot
To take her out for a hot date
One day a bangle, another day a necklace
Her needs will never end until my pocket is empty
I managed to get a fake smile on my face
I saw another fake smile on her crooked face
I knew money is the only reason for this date
Her eyes are not on my face but on the bulged wallet
It won't last long and it's unhealthy
I told to myself without thinking twice
Somehow I happend to control myself
I just said, " You get nothing when you come with me ".
Her response was so quick,"You are so cheap "
I had a hysteric laugh inside me
I said loud to her , "I think you are the cheap and not me" '
"You know why? You come for something and not for Love "
I am not looking for that kind of date
It is easy to get and I don't need it
She tried to change the topic, "I was just kidding you"
I knew it is a lie and I put a full stop on that relationship.
Crystal clear, your deep blue green
Provoking peace around these waters serene.
Near you my hysteric anxiety can find its peace
And the internal screaming of this mind might cease.
I have found you help settle my troublesome deep
And that you comfort my soul when I weep.
I will continue to return to this shore;
With each passing day I will appreciate you more.
You have offered to me what few others can
You, my healing waters, my calming ocean.
As each crest breaks against my shins
These bubbles dance along my skin.
With each performance of every wave
I grin and giggle at how you behave.
Vibrant, lively, and full of joy
You return energy back into this boy.
I listen to your voice and find I wear a smile
For the wonderfulness you are, I believe my time here is worthwhile.
You evoke from me a contentedness unseen.
You, my happy waters, my joyous sea.
Upon your shore I look at your waters vast
And remember history; a terrifying past.
I feel the pain of those lost to the waves
And the longing of a healed life each one craves.
The power you boast none can contain.
The strength you posses does supreme reign.
You dwarf us; remind us we are but man
But ask we match you, and rise if we can.
You birth in me strength that power I might reap.
You, my challenging ocean, my inspiring deep.
What a wonder! Indeed what a sight!
At the breaking of day; at the falling of night.
If I am still shaking sleep or my eyes are fully alive
The wondrous beauty you are does always thrive.
On your surface the sun glistens and gleams
And underneath all manners of life teems.
Among all of creation you are most fair,
A simple fact of which even you are unaware.
By your presence I'm awestruck, this is true.
You, my dazzling waters, my beauteous blue.
If my usual wasn't so ordinary
And didn't span great feats of generic
It may just be shy of extraordinary
A mediocrity so bland I'm hysteric
Enormity in normalcy's highest gear
Worked out so hard and never got abs
Without an ear my regular cannot hear
I'm the base tested against in labs
An everyday, workaday, 10 of a kind
Fantastically, head over heels habitual
Frequency, ooze from me, for oddness I pined
This middle of the road, uniform fool
An average in math I lack sum of the fun
My highest point is the peak of just typical
If my usual started with "un", not a prefix of none
This run of the mill status is biblical
I'm routinely symmetrical time and again
Burst at the seams in familiarity
A dullery so wild it verges on zen
Like a quietness without any clarity
I've searched the great depths of the known
Looked for an in but found not a trace
For my explicable or scrutable down to the bone
Destined to be dazzlingly commonplace.
nature's way of saying
I love what you do with your tongue
mom used to lick her hanky
to clean my face I want to kill her
aided by my only allies
the hobo armies of doom
resulted in a sweet tooth with no answers
for the impenetrable slits of her eyes
the crowd was aghast
so I knew we hit the glass jaw
now back to the scheduled program
our man Swigheart Backhoe
reports from Flat, Nebraska
on the next Heads of Kings exhibit
down at the Crusader camp
I'm trying to figure out why sperm motility
hasn't created a master race yet
The best of millions fighting upstream like
Steelers' running back Don Quixote
over a million years and we still end up with
politicians with red putty noses that go honk
and readers of the Weekly World News
who renew their state of alarm by the minute
we're not one step closer to kingdom come for it
sperm motility then is as effective an indicator
of Darwinian uber selection
as a chicken on a rotisserie spit
is an indicator of barnyard vitality
you are alive right give yourself a pinch
let's use sperm science to give the 2nd raters
and mediocrities a chance at the brass ova
the modern science of magnification
can certainly arrange for a
shiftless layabout sperm
to take a poke at the moon
enough with this Mother Nature swill
put the couch potato, the hysteric
the derelict pants pissing wino sperm
up the beanpole and see who salutes
Mother Nature eats her young
and writes checks for the
Eugenics Foundation of Savannah, Africa
does God have someone
telling him what to think
so go for it you little tadpoles
get in there you little champions
From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.site11.com/