Best Indicator Poems


Soul Stones

We swallow boulders:
(lead words, molasses covered prejudice, glass shards of promises long broken)

Mouths open wide and heads tipped back
like Hawaiian fire eaters.

Chipped teeth are bits of porcelain history,
sliding down our throats in rivers of neglect
and acid.

The stones settle,

BOOM...

      BOOM...

            BOOM...

Our stomachs are filled up, anvil weight
'till we can hardly sit, hardly stand, or walk.

We drag our feet in pain, as the quiet indicator that
we've had rocks for breakfast,
lunch, dinner,  for years,
in the hopes that someone will recognize
the broken concrete footprints behind us
and touch us gently on the forearm:

"Honey, are you alright?"

(and isn't it the first sweet trickle of kind words that crumble
the already cracking facade?)

There's no stopping the torrent then,
tsunami tears and a heaving, convulsing
to the point of cathartic vomit-

boulders of every shape and size
tumbling out of our mouths and filling the room;
broken teeth and granite eyes 
until we no longer see the floor, the walls...

And then serenity.

The hand has moved to the shoulder,
forming a universal hug.

"I'm here now... and you're ok."

We stand up, together, and leave that room,
a soundless void of yesterday,
to absorb the impermeability of stones,
carrying our gait buoyant, without gravity.

No weight at all now, and barely a second glance,

but to turn out the light - and lock the door behind us...
Categories: indicator, hope, introspection, life, peace,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member A Fox Was a Kit

A fox was a kit and a dog was once a puppy.
Don’t throw a fit, but a fish was never a guppy.
A horse was a colt.  And a hen was always a chick.
How about banana split’s scoop, could we call it a lick?

A butterfly was a caterpillar,
A green spotted frog was a polliwog.
A child was a well-loved neonate, 
Piglet was once the name of a giant hog.

Fawn instantly tells you something of his age,
Pony is not an indicator at all.
Lamb gives you a wonderful clue so sage.
Animals are delightful to me, big and small.
Categories: indicator, 2nd grade, 3rd grade,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Technology and a Broken Heart

A rag of a paper from a lifetime that's gone,
Replaced by a small microchip.
The feel of those words in the palm of your hands,
That the ends of your fingers would grip.

And the hands of a surgeon juggling his craft,
Or the journalist reporting the news.
All replaced with perfect mechanical arms,
On an internet with millions of views.

Already we yearn for the art of the human,
Who'd do the best that he could with few fails.
Spinning their yarn with small human insights,
And yet covering all important details.

And the car indicator you pushed to turn off,
Or the window you wound to pull down.
We miss the old life of being involved,
When computers didn't run the whole town.
Categories: indicator, nostalgia,
Form: Quatrain

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Maiden Voyage

She leaves Southampton
This Titanic ship
Her maiden voyage
New York trip
 
Channel crossings to Cherbourg, France
To Queenstown in Ireland
Where passengers dance
To some, a new life awaits
The future will seal their fate
 
Newfoundland waters
Temperature drop
Impending disaster
Without a thought
 
Lookouts, Fleet and Lee
Spot a large iceberg close to she
Sitting off her starboard bow
Sweat dripping from their brow
 
Telegraph indicator
In confusion state
This colossus of ice
Sits and waits
 
Inevitable meet
As natures diamond rips
Starboard side 
Of this most wonderful ship
 
Rivets pop, buckled hull
Atlantic intrusion, in volumes now
Compartments fill, this White Star gem
Will we ever see her likes again
 
Distress signal sent
As the crew are readied
This ship of ships
Emotionally unsteady
 
Lifeboats launched
Woman and children first
On this terrible night
Many fear the worst
 
So many passengers
Few lifeboats
As all around
Bodies float
 
Stern raised, props showing
Metal talking, funnels choking
Lights flicker off and on
Blackout
Categories: indicator, history, life, loss, sea
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Aaron's Coconut

Start the day. In what way
was the cold spring, last wet summer a
global warning, indicator. Says

one commentator on the op-ed page, the
dislocations, wars, famines will tax humanity's
technology, philosophy, even religion's ability

to see past daily survival to
the music in the rock. I've doubted the taboos
one frog among many in the slow-heating beauty

of the world we knew. Aaron's coconut.
Peepers doing well in the heavy rains, wet
with joy. Hawks and crows thrive below the jet

stream, noise, perhaps our fears
are overdrawn, we'll get along, it'll all hold together 10,000 years more,
the Holocaust will never be repeated, lush mountain and sere

desert equally appreciated, baseball
lazily paced summer evenings, the harvest in the fall
a sure thing, and the dying back a blessing come to all.
Categories: indicator, mountains, music, rain, spring,
Form: Verse

Premium Member The Battle Between Body and Spirit

The battle between body and spirit

Housed as I am,
in this earthenware vessel
I witness,
the raging between body and spirit.
My mood- sullen and morose,
a telling sign-
a flashing indicator-
pointing to a weakness in my will,
a slow debilitating decline in my convictions-
indicating a buttressing of my resolve-
is urgently needed.
This paroxysm has been a body blow,
and my spirit is reeling.
I am cloistered, incarcerated now these three years,
having served a portion of my sentence.
What is my crime?
These four walls,
such contemptible, wretched creatures-
mock me, taunt me, deride me
as weak and worthless; 
but I know better!
I am shackled to the two evil twins-
misery and myalgia-
myrmidons- secret agents of the devil
serving at his pleasure.
Hell-bent they are on a wicked crusade
raping and pillaging the golden storehouses
of my treasured faith and hope.
Sacred vaults protect my integrity,
my zeal is still intact.
As I wrestle with my afflictions
I throw tantrums-like a feral beast
charging towards the drawn sword.
However, I succumb to the inevitable.
I sense the folly of the fight and submit,
although-unwillingly to this intransigent,
auto-immune disease.
How do you fight an enemy who is
entrenched in your marrow?
This enemy is coercing me on this death march
and it is unrelenting in it's insistence.
The gates of Sheol*  beckon to me to enter,
I resist the clarion call, although the gravity
draws me ever closer to my sealed fate.
I see visions of paradise, here on earth,
where pain is no more,
and all suffering is a distant memory
until eternity erases it from my mind.
Unfortunately, for me,
looks like I'll be taking the subway,
instead of the train to paradise.



December 17,2018

For Misery contest Edward Ibeh

*Sheol  Hebrew for the grave.
Not hell as a burning place of torment
as is commonly taught and believed.
Categories: indicator, evil, faith, health, hope,
Form: Free verse


Premium Member Evidence

A painter's presence precedes his palpable painting.
An author is apparent by his text's acquainting.
A builder's being's believed by his building's indicator.
Creation is consistent with an existent Creator.

1/26/2021
Categories: indicator, art, bible, creation, earth,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Igor needs a bigger lab IX

Don is the ultimate user
His deals seal you as a loser 
When Trump holds the cards
The lives now in shards
Bear witness he’s an abuser

The Don has a trick to reveal
He’ll dick you and cancel your deal
Like hands on your neck
Trump voids your paycheck
And feels ecstasy when you squeal

If acts are life’s indicator
Don’s a classic woman hater
Though cratered with flab
Trump will pussies grab
As rapist and a dictator

What will show how Don’s dick-brain thinks?
Trump’s thrusts come with lies and high jinks!
Amid this disgust
Some high and non-plussed
Have heads up his rump with what stinks!
Categories: indicator, america, betrayal, corruption, evil,
Form: Limerick

Jeepney Ride

Packed like sardines
inside a jeepney*—
Too full,
with a jeepney strike going on.

Rushing, 
mother and child ride along.

Greasy, dirty, malnourished…
The woman holds a can—
a makeshift drum.
Little boy hands out envelopes,
he looks like he's 3 years old,
he's most likely 6.

Woman beats her drum,
nobody listens
chatter drowning out the rhythm…
Invisible ears to go with
invisible envelopes

His head touches my legs,
dissipating heat—
an indicator of how long
he's been under the sun and smog
The thought chills me…

He stares at my sister's shopping bags
with searing eyes…
Windows that I can’t bear to look into,
afraid to see my reflection of clouded guilt and frustration

I shake my head, no food to share
but my hands reach out to his,
to give him some money.
My sister remembers a bottle of iced tea, 
and hands it to him.

He has a hard time opening it,
and asks for help from the school girls…
Invisible again.

I reach out and get the bottle from him
Temporary refreshment
for a body that is parched,
for a soul who is thirsty for so much more.

I cannot help but gulp in guilty air.

He sits on the aisle,
savoring the tea
as his mother thumps on the can.

The little boy retrieves envelopes, all empty—
as hollow as the sound of the beating drum.

What do you do,
what can you do?

The jeepney stops.
They alight from it...
The mother looks back 
and says, "Salamat.*"
It goes straight to my heart.

Her eyes move me most—
one eye is cloudy, grayed out,
perhaps a manifestation
of the storms in her life?

That single word seared through me,
and I felt how much she meant it…

Her thank you
made me want to give so much more,
to call out to her and give whatever I had at the moment
but they are gone...
Lost in a crowd of faceless people,
and I myself want to get lost,
hide my face in shame…

What can you do?





--For  Debbie’s Tell Me a Story contest…

*jeepney—is  a public transportation vehicle here
*Salamat is “Thank You”
Categories: indicator, life, people, social, me,
Form: Narrative

God Is My Redeemer and My Vindicator

All day every day I love to talk about God no wonder I 'm treated as if I'm odd. I 
belong to God. I'm no I'm on a winning team. So to any hater I scream the Lord is 
my redeemer and He's my vindicator, and he'll show up any vice from the devil far 
better than any acid or base indicator. So you can hate, with any hater he'll show 
you up grander than an acid or base because He is my redeemer and my vindicator!

1-7-11

I know that my Redeemer lives, and that in the end he will stand upon the earth. 
Job 19:25

For the LORD will vindicate his people and have compassion on his servants. Psalms 
135:14
Categories: indicator, inspirational, lifeday,
Form: Rhyme

Hungry

I am hungry.
Stomach is noisy.
It is the indicator of hunger.
While corrupter should never;
Never hear to infinity.
Categories: indicator, animal, change, corruption, hope,
Form: Limerick

Premium Member Sheep, Aliens and Curry

While Shepherds watched their flocks by night all seated on the ground
The ewes collected up their lambs and gathered them around
"Listen now," the old Ewe said, "you young lambs listen well,
If you all want to grow to sheep then hark to what I tell
You may see lights up in the sky, or coming cross the downs
They could be aliens my dears, from space, or other towns
They may use flashy coloured beams or other fancy sights
But sometimes they have dim headlamps and indicator lights"

"It does not matter how they come or from what other lands
Aliens are just as bad who drive white transit vans
So lambs who plan to wander off and get up to no good
Can get sheepnapped to Cygnus Prime, or maybe Cricklewood
And whether you are beamed aboard, or bundled in a sack
The aliens have got you, and you won't be coming back
A simple truth for young lambs to, within their noddles, keep
Is alien companionship is never good for sheep"

"It matters not a sci-fi whit dissected in a lab,
Or spiced and served with napkins in a curry or kebab
The preparations, much the same, occuring on the way
Are what you can undoubtedly expect to spoil your day!"

The little lambs were chastened much and some quite overcome
And resolved that they would keep themselves close to their mum

But other things were happening and shepherds on the ground
Beheld an Angel visiting, with glory spread around

"Fear Not", he said for mighty dread had seized their troubled minds
"Great tidings of great joy I bring to you and all mankind"

The sheep reckoned that was not them and were much relieved
It did not really matter if the shepherds were deceived
But still, they thought, 'twas best be off, although no need to hurry
And one or two thought shepherds might improve turned into curry

The night was dark and shepherds eyes were full of holy light
And so the sheep all silently crept off into the night
Leaving shepherds to their fate somewhere among the stars
The sheep hit Bethlehem's nightspots, the clubs, the pubs and bars.
© Lee Leon  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: indicator, angel, animal, fantasy, horror,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Homework

Moby Dick, geometry, physics.
Study every subject everyday.
Homework is an indicator of future success.
Success is not necessarily happiness but it helps.
Freedom is to formulate your own definition of success.
Happiness is an imaginary tree, its own reward, and a fact.
Facts and fiction may be memorialized in memos or found in dreams.
The story starts thus: Each summer the honeysuckles and the
      huckleberries . . .
The web is that extra brain we've all been dreaming of having.
Like jumping 4 meters or flying without a plane.
To fly like that must one first have homework?
Some say yes, some say don't. It depends on how you vote.
Happiness is what happens when everything that happens
Fits the time perfectly and it's all out of your hands.
Not exactly. You don't let go of the steering wheel while driving fast in
      the passing lane.
You look left and right and check your blind spots.
Homework is an introduction to everything you're not
And all you do not know. It's supposed to help you learn to know where
      you want to go before going where you have to go.
Otherwise you end up on Ulzana's raid
Bleeding, without a bandaid.
All the achievement in the world won't relieve your loneliness
Or satisfy your sexual longing. What girls are like behind their eyes.
Survival, procreation. That's all there is to love.
But the loved one is the one who can be trusted with your life.
Whether Christ or your wife. The Muslim moms.
On my walk in the woods I come to a sitting spot
Above a small gorge cut by a stream through hemlocks.
Here someone has left a statuette of the Buddha and the flags you see
Flapping in the wind at sky funerals.
This is a pretty good place to sit quietly and think about homework.
Categories: indicator, dream, freedom, future, happiness,
Form: Verse

Premium Member Ouch Low Battery

Low battery

In the wee hours of the morn
She was torn between two pillows;
  Pure ecstasy escalates;
 A blinking Indicator become
A disruptive behavior: suddenly
 A dishonorable discharge

 ouch! sorry low battery.
Categories: indicator, funny,
Form:

Ganges River Dolphins

Ganges River Dolphins are listed as, endangered
and once lived in the fresh river systems of Nepal, India, and Bangladesh
These Dolphins only live in freshwater rivers, and are essentially blind
and are an important indicator, for the health of their river’s ecosystem

These Dolphins get caught up in fishing nets, as human bycatch
and human overfishing, is depleting their prey, on their own patch
They are also poached, for human greed of their meat and oil
and humans have encroached, like henchman that deplete with turmoil
Categories: indicator, animal, beautiful, earth, education,
Form: Rhyme
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