Best Identifiable Poems


Premium Member Awakening From Stupor


The Echo Of Stars
Galaxies away the echo of stars make her bloom 
this rose made of warm inside a heated hand * 
Fine tuning her soul to the chime of a thousand crystal pieces   
she blasts out and planets resound within her Chalice heart; 
Resonating inside her, the peeling bells of Notre- Dame
contain her whole Universe... 
Tucked safely inside an IVEAN cloak she lives free 
no longer part of this global world.   
A star of multiple constellations, she belongs only 
to One identifiable light,  HIS  own.
Evolving endlessly in time she reverberates and rings   
entering God's vestibule of heaven without a single sound 
Wearing the immortal crown of existence she delves  
in, a crowning moment of glory
The mirror shatters in a million tiny pieces and all of truth  
arrives, making her whole once again. 

“it’s not desire per say but the clinging ~

that stifles soul and stops heart from singing 

enlivening silence sets our soul free ~

vibrant in the now, joyful and carefree”
Categories: identifiable, analogy, spiritual,
Form: Free verse

She Hates

She Hates

Her eyes sink back into her head. 
Her left eye crosses her right and the hate pierces like the sun’s rays on a hot summer day.

She calls herself a Christian because it makes her feel safe. 

She believes that Church is a tangible thing of brick and mortar with a temple and a bell that 
rings at noon every Sunday. 

She believes the Anti-Christ is identifiable like another human being. 

Sadly, like most that call themselves Christians, she is not safe.
© Tim Lully  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: identifiable, faith
Form:

Chance Worth

Can I walk away for once?
To walk away from everything I've ever known
I want to give chance a chance
For that everything I've ever built that isn't a home

I do not want to travel to run away
I want an imagination that could change my life
Not that my life is so hard I couldn't stay
Just that my life is a becoming constant without drive

There simply isn't a new meaning anymore
Can I un-know all that I think that I know?
Everything is becoming increasingly difficult to adore
Is an aging life subjected to go with only the flow?

I grew myself everyday knowing lesser of me
To look pass years without an identity
I could've been a one identifiable to be
Or perhaps an every once can only ever be a memory

Can I ever walk away from everything I'll ever know?
Am I not already living an everyday to chance?
Am I a delusion mind with a body I only but borrow?
Or have I already walked away beyond chance...
© Joel Lee  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: identifiable, life,
Form: Rhyme

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Farewell Old Friend

— I take a dose of my own medicine and gage on my pride. Bitter sweet truth, leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Realization that it's time for me to move on. Admitting defeat, accepting the truth. You are my best friend, as a matter of fact, you have been my only friend for years now. I've been leaning on your crutches and using you as an excuse. Enabled by your constant presence, my loneliness has become my personal sanctuary. Practically giving up hope on everyone else, we hid from our fear. Hiding in our room, where our beds were always made to our liking. Obsessing over solitude; avoiding the entire world. Putting up emotional walls that are only identifiable through our actions. Afraid to open up to people, I limited my emotional availability. Giving it only to you. Being Just a little off, just enough to keep people away. You constantly make me feel inadequate. It's hard to hold my head up high, when you are consistently putting me down. Please understand that it's not you, it's me. I am my own best friend and it's time for me to move on. It won't be easy getting over myself. It's been a blast and I'll never forget you. I'm going to move on and never look back. Reality is only a phone call away and my own head can be a tough place to be. I'm dropping you like a bad habit. This chapter of my life is coming to a close. Farewell old friend. —

[2-28-15]

10th Place in SKAT A Contest
Categories: identifiable, adventure, allusion, analogy, best
Form: Prose Poetry

Introspection I

i
take a
peek inside my

mind - animal happiness find

it’s beautifully identifiable intelligence - that

space - electrically bioelectrogenetically multidisciplinarianismic creativity place
Categories: identifiable, image, introspection, math, poetry,
Form: Imagism

Being Invisible

BEING INVISIBLE (THE IRONY OF IT ALL)

There is a Battle ongoing about an 
invisible Being
Each side claims the ear of the One 
before whom they're  kneeling
But how do they know this invisible 
Being at all
How is he identifiable should someone 
on him call
One combatant side has demanded no 
utterance of this Being's name
Such name spoken by humans would the 
name defame
Now we have two sides admitting this Entity's
invisibility
But calling out prayers to such Spirit they feel is 
their duty
The  combatants can't say just Who they address
Invisible, no name, the heavenly switchboard  
is confused they confess
So each to the other 's Being the adversaries
were then plugged in
Who told them all "I'm thru listening because 
you're all full of sin"

A further conundrum is here to unwind
A Being all seeing but invisible, and above all no Name
And one more problem to add to the game
There are invisible lines on the earth's face
These are called borders and can't be erased
Everything's invisible and these people pray 
to One with no Name
With lines unseen but all over that are plain
This is as obvious as pee in the snow
They're all nuts and to hell they should go 
But of course hell is an invisible place too
Their war will be settled since they never knew
which Who's fighting the other one's Who
Categories: identifiable, allegory, analogy, god, humor,
Form: Couplet


What I Need To Learn

If my behaviour is rude or objectionable.
What I need to learn to make it sustainable?
I studied surrealism and swathe me susceptible,
To concrete relations to develop surmountable,
But I temporize to learn your surreptitious gamble.
Then your religion adopted me a non religious,
And treated a birth distortion in human factitious,
Factotum a fait accompli not identifiable crush,
My soul is evil not a body needs purification by hydrous.
My kindness and forgiveness converted me a feeble. 
But hypertension shows me your hygienic hyperbola,
To curse my appetite not your spare to gain Lola,
You feel cold and hot and used me to assemble cola,
How can I excuse my children remember your Bola?
Categories: identifiable, depressionme, me,
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member Evolution of the Ankh

In the ancient Egyptian culture
The Ankh represented life’s adventure

Crux ansata - Latin translation
Cross with a handle, strong foundation

When Roman Emperor Constantine
Envisioned his death in a dream scene

He adapted the symbol’s meaning
To reflect violence intervening

With a warrior’s death -- sword and spear 
Evoking in non-Christians supreme fear

Today the Ankh remains a symbol
Sacredly identifiable

With the power of Christian belief
All handed down from Sanskrit relief

I see the cross and eternal circle
As faith's evolution -- God's miracle
Categories: identifiable, history, philosophydeath, death,
Form: Couplet

Premium Member Dear Id

Dear Id,

Once again, I find my mind making the same journey into your deepest ocean of questions I can never fathom. So many times I've told myself it's such a complete waste of time to even cast my cares upon your unyielding  waters. I have been utterly lost for days at a time trying to find my way back through the labyrinth of my mind. The air feels heavy and breathing has nothing to do with want or desire. For as long as I can remember, my reflection has been as an ever evolving meaningless Rorschach. No identifiable constants, just a tangled mess of emotion with a gaping hole of disappointment in the life experience. I ask myself, "Is this it?" The overwhelming outpouring of human pretentiousness and superficiality leaves me dying of starvation for anything real! Will it even matter? How can I miss something I've never known and be so instinctually convinced there is more? Enlighten me!

Truly,
Frustrated and Unfulfilled
Categories: identifiable, anxiety, conflict, emotions, psychological,
Form: Free verse

Beautiful Human

Our own beautiful perfection

Covered in a mist, by day and night.

Hiding from sight, the beautiful human,

Exist in partly dark, and partly light.

The personalities that character draws

Defines everyone delightful sense of mind,

Being consumed, we assumed our flaws,

In that perfect moment of borrowed time.

No one saw the other images in the clouds,

Spacious and proud, floating out in the sky,

Lives trapped between the foreboding floods,

Cumulus personalities, of follies and fantasy.

Emotional attention wearing the mask of fear,

Poison flames in deep places of enduring pain,

Illusions create a smile swirling in the air,

But tears unseen, often make faces in the rain.

In dreams resides the blurry eyes, see a brighter 

Synergy, that future lies in the human imagery.

Agony of beauty will be preserved forever

In heaven, and the ages covered in mystery.

Our likeness and identifiable brightness,

Society see only distorted essence of a person,

Blurred images of life, lies at the bottomless abyss,

Something of a caricature for no apparent reason.

Identity wants to break through the ruin walls

The world holds mankind upon the altar of fear,

In tangled mess, caught hopeless, bombs falls.

Our children want to escape the terror of war.

We stand together upon this fragile earthly strand,

Declaring the testimony of a beautiful human,

With many grains of sand, to make up the land

Everyone is someone with emotions for attention.
Categories: identifiable, allegory, beauty, emotions, growth,
Form: Pastoral

A Tide of Jus On a Plate

A baby gorilla's bedtime is a harmonic period when the bananas line up with little leaf rattles to softly croon to slumber the furry ball. Priceless is the process of pacification and pacifications are not prevalent in the pacific, the polar regions, nor do they play with piñatas in Paraguay. It is to be said that a tortoise shell footstool can rotate at great speeds do cast iron boots must be worn if placing one's feet upon the tapestry printed square form. The chime of lime is very very noisy but not as noisy as the incessant chatter and chuckling from the bowl of sugar cubes. Sugars state signalling shaped saying stuff silkily and silly too. But a mild mannered oxon could take a heifer to a ballroom but only if properly attired in a beach towel, sun glasses, three piece suit and a gown. Then an entrance can be made. With a thud. And a bellow. Brass bands made of cream donuts can entertain at this dance and the hall is quite packed with skimming skirts, scantily clad pea women, and the tidal spore has come dressed as a ringmaster but no whip for whips are for the underground stations and platforms of legs. Legality leaves legs lingering liberally. Akin to sprinkling a fine spray of salt across a plate of the towering vegetables. Piled high. Architectural really. Very mesmerising is the mist of a fine diner whose aroma lifts the air surrounding with a unjust uniquely identifiable stench. And stench drenched can be a wench, a bench but never a welk. For welk belong in tree houses and tree houses are not tables and not talking ash trays either. Ash trays do not modify a month of moon shaped mammoths. And a tree semi formed can bite so always walk very very very briskly when passing a thicket. Zoom then. Go on zoom. A zoom in a room. How rather entertaining and entertainment is equal to a climbing plant pot scaling a sky scraper. How great. Such feat with no feet. And how deserving of the medal at the Olympics of Oscar fish in an oceanographic weave of seafood cocktail with melon jus. Haha the wide mouthed octopi are singing gospel tunes to a small party of crabs. Ha the divinatory dogs diving definition digging dreams. Ha the musical mustard jar moving in time to the fish fork forte. Xxxxxx reciprocal z z z zzz. At ten loaves to forty seven slices of butter cake. Z z z z z z. 57294894907398%. Z
Categories: identifiable, bangla, beach,
Form:

Premium Member 'illusion'

she felt his heart beat
so identifiable 
an enchanting sound
her only recollection
of the man she use to love

the heart’s trickery 
has claimed another victim 
yet her heart still beats
is it just an illusion?
or will she find her way back?


Contest Name : “BAG OF TRICKS”
By	        : Wilma N. Neels


080720111350
Categories: identifiable, confusion, loveheart, heart,
Form: Tanka

Premium Member 'surreal Expectation'

looking at the crystal ball
maintaining an open mind
so loud the vernacular 
of love and ardor

          a promise without a word
                  expectation surreal
                    passion our barometer  
                      written in the stars

the two of us together
our hands entwined, binding hearts
identifiable beats 
in the crystal ball


Written by: Wilma Neels
Contest Name: Crystal ball

110920111825
Categories: identifiable, fantasy,
Form: Dodoitsu

Premium Member Virtual Truths

Without doubt true,
     and yet too redundantly lectured,
          especially to our young of body and mind,
the virtual world is not reality.

And yet,
Elders seldom hear
when youngsters pout back
what must equally be true,
Earth's reality is no longer devoid
of virtual communicating worlds
without so many competitive walls
to hinder cooperative re-education
about mutual relationships
between polynomial information trends
and polypathic energy economies
and polyphonic co-relational politics,
all networks for off-line Earth's reality
and on-line virtual ego/eco-centering systems.

The story of information systemic regeneration
reweaves Earth's creation story of Gaian Cooperative Hypotheses
knowing we are already a cooperatively intended democracy
living in diverse locations,
identifiable 4D geometrically revolving spacetime locations
emerging from advents of fertile prehistoric winters
producing reborn ecopolitical springs,
diastatically mature summers of healthy wealth revolutions,
harvesting AutumnElders of poly-nutritional wisdom,
restored in understories
of Yin's first and last winter blanket;
egocentering processors
re-aligning with eco-centered Earth's fractal-regenerate realities,
virtual on-line
as 4D cooperative off-line.

Without doubt also true,
     and yet too redundantly gamed and networked,
          especially by our young of bodyminds
               with bilaterally thinking spirits,
Earth's reality includes on-line virtual cooperatives
and off-line ecological Tipping Points,
climate change
as both potentiality 
of cooperative health
and WinLose reality 
for competing flesh and blood pathologies.

Truths,
1 is always positive or negative in Earth's metric LeftBrain languages,
just as timeless 0s are both/and equivalent notnot double-bound with 1
co-binary RightBrain balance,
virtual-digital and historic-analogical waves
between past and future, 
     tipping toward co-present.
Categories: identifiable, culture, education, health, history,
Form: Prose Poetry

Love Poem

Love Poem, 2011
V. Ortiz Vazquez


I am no slam poetry poet
No love story reside within my pencil
Strawberries, tossed salad has no residency
Smooth skin, deep breath, loud moans
Non existent
Bleeding pen draws away
The thought, idea of love making through ink
Passion flow with no identifiable destination
Taking not borrowing, lines begin to form spectacles of no love
My pen-pencil, tools entrusted to absentees’ pictographs
Images of lost, missed, forgotten times
Tried by many
Explore by few
Spit by few too many
Hardship with frown for a smile
I am no slam poetry poet
No love story lies within my pages
Notion of impossible curves
Sweet nectar, delicious lips
Absent
Day dreams resettle night dreams
Suddenly awaken rushing to fall asleep once again
Return to…where did it go?
Relax muscles
Swollen vessels
Dimmit!! No longer asleep
I am no slam poetry poet
No love poem here
No
Love
Poem
Here
Categories: identifiable, love, slam, love, poetry,
Form: Free verse
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