Best Immersive Poems
Fractals.
Spawn of iterating quadratic functions.
Choreographers of cosmic conjunctions.
Impervious to human dysfunctions.
Makers of multiverses. Encoders of creations.
Limited only by imaginations.
Recursive. Coercive. Immensely immersive.
Purveyors of poetic creative cursive.
With formative fractals you’ll melt your mind’s shackles
and be anywhere that you may want to be.
You can form fractals to your own reality,
and make anything in the sky or the sea.
You can even repurpose them to poetry …
Yes, if
fractals were dactyls they’d flow off the page,
whirling and twirling, sublime.
Freeing us, being us, thoughts disengage,
teasing and pleasing with rhyme,
reaping the rhythms of time.
From mundane equations that yet yield complex
repetitive patterns that please and perplex,
come fractals so beautiful in all respects.
Constructors of coastlines and snowflake concerns,
foundries for forests, and feathers, and ferns,
the deeper you dive they have more twists and turns.
Generators of patterns, like veins in a leaf,
and the branches of trees, shapes of every motif.
Look around, everywhere, there are fractals, good grief!
From the large to the small and still smaller they flow,
simple patterns repeating, yet different, you'll know
that there’s just no escaping the great fractal show.
So, let’s face them, embrace them, we’ll host history.
Let us master them, plaster them, I guarantee:
merge your mind into fractals, you’ll set your soul free.
Reconstructed 3/22/2021, for the FRAGMENTS OF VERSE Poetry Contest, sponsored by John Lawless
As warm as the sun and as cold as ice,
Nature's the mother for whom the birds sing.
Strolling through the woods, I embrace Autumn's
sensually immersive sensations.
From a crackling carpet of fallen leaves
to the smell of rotting logs and fungi:
Nature's presence is all-encompassing.
And a chorus of skeletal branches
rattle, like bones, in the wake of each breeze.
Each season
Nature changes
Her looks,
using color
to express Herself.
Spring is green,
Summer
is khaki,
and Fall
dapples orange
and scarlet
highlights, on the trees.
While Winter wears powder
white,
with crystals of ice.
Generative Persistence
Give it a name; “generative presence”, “persistence”
Emergent with life, feeling and a pulse
Send it on its way while clinging to the egg
Enable it from a distance to become of use
Keep yourself in a suggestive cocoon
State of fixation, enameled in stasis
Embedded in concrete reality if only to form
Wrapped in patterns, in sequences, in character, in disarray
Care to be objective, immersive, informative, and inspired
Decline to describe, suggest, discuss, gaps between life
Grasp the past meandering. Record the record of history
Understand; you are a guest in your own home
In your own existence; fantasies not included
Invoke the yoke of yellow, involve useful dialogue
Desirable, normal, absurd diagnosis of that which is
Adapt to youth as it passes
Glanced at by events unfolding, reflected in a mirror
Placed appropriately in your path
From the context, content of that which is perceived
In the persistence of memory let it live
There is an immersive beauty you experience walking along the shore…
when you experience the sea….
as every sense your body possesses…feels it instantly.
You see an eternity of ocean heading over the horizon
like an endless watery floor…
You smell the salt air all around you…you hear the ocean roar.
You bend down to touch the water.
You taste its saltiness on your hand.
You remove your shoes and allow your feet
to become acquainted with the sand.
You find your voice is silent from the moment you begin
which allows your elevated senses to take all this beauty in.
As you gently walk in silence
finding peace and balance on the shore…
your senses having been unlocked…
are crying out for more.
It feels as if time slows down
just long enough for you to take a closer look….
and you cannot help but smile in this moment
happy this is the path you took.
When it’s time to go you thank the ocean…
whispering, “Don’t worry, I’ll be back to visit you some more.”
because you know you cannot stay away too long
one you have experienced the beauty of the shore.
Hush o'er azure stone ridge,
hypnotic wax moon dash,
wispy crescent rustle from,
a piebald furry deer,
nocturnal stealth enshrouded,
silver tint antler scoops,
limp orange leaf detritus,
canopy of maroon ink,
black mist dewdrops spill,
corral Northern Bobwhite quest,
shuddersome elk teeters on,
bituminous coal summit,
cast a pearl oyster glance,
into an uncanny precipice,
enigmatic phenocryst ravines,
spellbound immersive trickle,
species of the dome shape,
muted in clandestine trot,
oe’r mushroom quandary in crossing,
to slink away the eerie stillness
As the rain trickles down the cracks of my stained oak casket
And it stains the fabric of my tattered shirt with the crimson paint they placed upon my lips
The shifting of dirt can be heard in my worm infested ears
As the skin on my thighs is being eaten away from the wood beatles
My spirit hovers above this nightmarish scene
Broken tombstone and twisted roses cover my name
Once spoken from your tongue, now just a whisper in the wind
Can you even remember the words that dripped from my trauma fueled pens
Or have they turned to ash like my sins that were thrown into the pyre
Choking on putrid soot as you lowered haphazard memories into the barren ground
Darkness can be so blinding, don't you see now
All those insomniac nights and breathless days
Gripped by panic attacks and mind numbing depression
I screamed, pleaded, wept for longing
Just to be understood, as I got on my cracking knees
Praying with bloodshot eyes for an ounce of peace
I can't breathe, lungs swelling, tears cascading likes waterfalls down my sunken face
But you refused to see the girl breaking inside this woman, invisible scars ripping open
A spiritual bloodletting
Now the final chapter can not be undone as the bell no longer tolls for a lost soul among the deaf.
time standing stlll
arrested
moments revealed
in stimulations
of the mind
revealed lluminations
of the past yesterdays
becoming today
tomorrow's postponed
memory
past pictures live again
momento mori in hypereality
as monuments
to past existence
from shadows of transience
sentient touchstones
in memorials of perception
aesthetic sublimations
of immersive
spontaneity
fascinating expectations
in a visual genesis
of suspended animation
still distant
now living again
February 5, 2023 / 2022 Poetry Marathon Qualifiers' FINAL Placement Poetry Contest / Sponsor: Mark Toney
The early hours of dawn had just shown themselves
And I was still lost deep in the forests of slumber;
There where calming and peaceful waves roll by
Allowing me no chance to overthink and to be thus,
Overanxious, for submerged in this type of magic
I can only become a mermaid lapping joyfully around!
But then, the world of lucid dreaming, so like a game
Of immersive virtual reality pushed me to a place
Where I would receive instruction, from the most
Beautiful powers that pervade this world; that of the
Mother Goddess Herself!
The place was silent, still, chillly and laden with an air
Of divine importance
I was hushed, groomed and brought to the entrance
Of a temple standing below a huge mountain by beings
Who looked like celestial guardians;
Then, I was brought in front of the Goddess who told me
That my love story with the one she had willed me previously
Would be over by the time July would show itself!
She gave no reasons for same, no explanations, only
Plain instructions and then I was brought out of the temple
Where I opened my eyes to realize that I was in fact,
In my own bed!
I did not understand the message at the beginning
And I just shrugged it off as a mere whim,
A tantrum of my own mental senses,
But then the dream materialised itself in ways
That I could do nothing about other than
Watch them unfold and letting myself go through them!
The fact that we humans are connected to the skies
Is not a mere old tale, to be talked about when
The conversations have gone down,
Rather,
It is our whole purpose, our meaning and our sense
Guiding us through the murky waters that we wade through!
The reason we have birthed remains a question mark over
Our heads,
However, we should never forget that we are connected
To that which bid us be!
Of more messages do I await,
Hoping to be thrust on the right path
So as to receive smiles and words of grace,
Someday, when I shall meet with this power,
In the world not known to humans!
The Cinematic Film Treatment as a stand alone element
in the aesthetic revolution we are now not witnessing
Unforgotten Lacerations
A pataphysical circus of visual elements, possibly comprehensible depending upon one's ideological orientation or level of pre-programmed self-inhibition, as a product of The Secret Alliance of Manipulators who are able to make time seem to sputter and stall, which renders entire historic eras readable as non-immersive abstractions accessible to self-evolved synthetico-interpretive frameworks which, strangely enough, can be scenario-independent, yet anti-universalist, if perceived from behind protective eye wear (and hand wear) when transnavigating the immense rainbow-hued gulf between pleasant surroundings and a 3rd World prison cell in a forgotten jungle at the mouth of the River of Despair where zebras eat unicorns for breakfast, and blend in so much better to boot in a time where protective foliage is the name of the game and infiltration a fine art enamored of free spirits capable of moving from demographic to demographic while in the pay of no orthodoxy, no tradition, no taboo circus, no constricting corsets of approval, no appetite or appetite suppressant, no failure to observe and snicker at the many ironies the 3rd dimension presents us, no reluctance to laugh at the great archive of human failure and triumph so evident upon the pixels of Imagos no refusal to laugh in the face of presumption or habit or imitation or indecision or equivocation about the acceptance of new data, period.
the contemporary
interpreted
deconstructed
at
first glance
atop
simplicity
within&
immersive
uprooted
changed drastically
avant garde
with
a personal edge
Imagine for one moment, one misty mystic moment,
how best to use those golden float seconds,
moments, hours, we as mortal creatures
abnormally fritter into some quaint spurious
void known as passage.
Time's colossal collateral bequeathed unbeknownst
to each and everyone of us earthlings
that slips through a porous filter into
endless futile vapour trails, absent-minded ventures,
and vapid finger gazing.
However, sweeping statements aren’t and
never will be that sermonising torch I
brandish in broad daylight.
Such a pointless pose, a consummate dismissal
leads to skewed off-course compass points.
An aimless drift on anybody’s part beyond
the versicolour dawn, nascent noonday nugget,
rich resplendence of a sapphire twilight
should not be met with brusque distain.
A subtle pointer deftly spun seems
more than ample whenever hidebound aspect lurks.
Day and night should be immersive in their
ambience, without interlude or vacuous intrusion.
A galaxy of Three D screen epics await tellurians
divorced from deep fulfilment.
They, as spellbound junket, are poised around
each bend for instant capture, to seize and duly savour.
Why not revel in each in the moment wonderland,
that dazzling enchantment, ushered by each stroke of the resonant clock?
Murderous Sprees...
sinister Population Control, Sans Cosmic Creator?
Maybe,... I shudder to think
up the sleeve and ornate cufflink
of divine maker, a deliberate pitch
to foist *****sapien on brink
viz self destruction,
asper bedlam upon Earth that doth stink
a hellish conspiracy linkedin with tragedy
namely sinister predestined plan to shrink
terrestrial realm usurped by ink
king a pact of devilish destruction, demolition
denunciation, et cetera doth stoke
unslakable thirst of bloody drink
sucked out the flesh o' every body electric
as zombies and vampires quench
fifty plus shades of deep pink
drain liquid of life courtesy of chosen thugs
incognito golem aliens to kill and sink
civilization, until every person extinct
cold comfort (from this Yankee of mortal fate
lifelong resident of Keystone state),
one day extraterrestrials, (whom might
inhabit planet teeming with billions)
will excavate and then curate
a sorry lot of creatures, where bullets did eliminate
an arrogant, haughty, narcissistic...peoples
(a handful of exceptions to the contrary),
whose various tribes never adapted to integrate
sundry superficial differences among themselves
instead chose to allow, enable and provide
(Putin shill) collusion did willingly corroborate
with dopplegangers i.e. "FAKE" guardians
whose real not so impossible mission
to feign friendship, at heart..a pie rate
but sole outlook to eradicate
coercive, self immersive,
passive, et cetera species
and blithely earn blind trust, unwittingly mutate
into their likeness only to trump
pet gentlemen's agreement brittleness did break
as "FAKE" and devastate
democratic and constitutional compact
(utilizing bribery to swindle elite schools
so crazy rich parents could manipulate
levers of prestigious academia) to satiate
egos bragging about brilliant offspring
only to undermine the complex edifice
spoiling promising futures via golden gate
bridge of studious grads,
who exercised sweat o' their pate.
Lava stiletto lips
drips Medusa kisses
transmitting stone corpse aperitifs
she slithetrs hither on
out of night sways of
narcoleptic nuptial napkins
snake strand locks of love
conceal couquettic tenderizing
fetish fantasies of climactic
carnivorous copulations.
Leviathan legs of boa bondage
clench my every clandestine thrunch.
Gonad groundswells of deep droning
desires-immersive of Eden's ego, forgo
an all atoned, permissable persuasions,
passions primitive, albeit death defying
defamations. I thus conclude a deciduous
daunting demise driven by perennial postulates
and hormonal harassed hecticals capturing
coital consequences, feverently focused,
freely formed frailties, neatly nestled,
innately interred, individually invested
by human happenstance helpings of
hepatic herbs of mythological memories
measured in manmade miniature statuettes
cold carved into rejuvenating relics
of our own Rock of Ages intent.
SENSIBILITIES
a vibrant
dream tangled
& annotated
preserved &
rendered
so
attractive
notable
& disguised
a
spasmodic
expression
a surprise
announced
such a bewildering
drama
yet fortuitous
& so appropriate
snatches
inspiration
from raging
sensibilities
a captured atmosphere
so immersive
& yet
voluptuous
with unstoppable
appeal
THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE without grammatical symbols the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and respond thus making the form a two way interplay and often a unique interpretation by the enigma so derived
“True love stories never have endings.” –
True happiness is a feeling. It is an immersive feeling that everything is good inside. It is not just about riches or wealth; it is a state of mind in which one has a fulfilling and satisfying feeling that his heart is truly at rest.
Is kadar pyar hai tumse ae humsafar O my better half, I'm in love with you in such a manner that
Is kadar pyar hai tumse ae humsafar O my better half,I'm in love with you in such a manner that
Ab toh jeete hai hum bas tumhe dekhkar Now I live only by looking at you
Tumhari har ada, tumhari har nazar Every style of yours and every look of yours
Yeh kya kehne lagi tumhe hai kya khabar You don't know what they're saying
Is kadar pyar hai tumse ae humsafar O my better half, I'm in love with you in such a manner that
Ab toh jeete hai hum bas tumhe dekhkar Now I live only by looking at you
Dil mein hai betaabiyan, neend udne lagi My heart is restless and I've lost my sleep
Tere khayalon se hi aankh judne lagi My eyes have started to connect with your thoughts
Har pal tumko dekha maine kehti hai meri nazar My eyes say that I've been staring at you all the time
Tumhari har ada, tumhari har nazar Every style of yours and every look of yours
Yeh kya kehne lagi tumhe hai kya khabar You don't know what they're saying
Is kadar pyar hai tumse ae humsafar O my better half, I'm in love with you in such a manner that
Ab toh jeete hai hum bas tumhe dekhkar Now I live only by looking at you
Saanson mein basne lagi jabse tu o jaaneja Since the time you've settled in my breaths o beloved
Apna sa lagne laga mujhko sara jahaan The entire world seems to be mine
Mehka mehka lagta mujhko khushiyon se dil ka nagar And the colony of my heart seems to be full of joy
Tumhari har ada, tumhari har nazar Every style of yours and every look of yours
Yeh kya kehne lagi tumhe hai kya khabar You don't know what they're saying
Is kadar pyar hai tumse ae humsafar O my better half, I'm in love with you in such a manner that
Ab toh jeete hai hum bas tumhe dekhkar Now I live only by looking at you
Tumhari har ada, tumhari har nazar Every style of yours and every look of yours
Yeh kya kehne lagi tumhe hai kya khabar You don't know what they're saying
“ The most important thing in life is to learn how to give out love, and to let it come in.” — ...
https://youtu.be/VcbzW874Qag