Best Interlock Poems
I woke up at the break of dawn,
with the feeling that all hope is gone,
I was not sure where to begin,
but I was determined to win.
No dazzling stars,
no visible moonlight,
no chirping birds,
to tease my empty words.
I walked through the door with a subtle grin,
nursing bruises all over my skin.
I tried to escape yesterday’s punishment,
and saturate my mind with hope and fulfillment.
Walking down the dark empty street,
a cab stopped exactly at my feet,
I hired him to take me to the mountains,
to breath out the stagnant air
and repair my body’s wear and tear.
His grouchy voice thundered through my ears,
he spoke with a strange accent that I could hardly hear,
It passes through one ear, and suddenly disappears.
We journeyed through sleeping towns,
they stared at us without a sound,
steep hills and rocky path,
bending streets and winding roads
dumping my burdensome loads.
He made a sudden turn,
and I felt a sensational yearn
spilling over in my soul.
Mother nature bursts from the horizon
and filled my heart with glad tidings.
Layers of mountains blink at me,
taking me up and down the gigantic tree
guiding me to my unseen dreams,
while patches of green and sun burnt grass
prepare the city for the morning mass.
I saw her bursting through the thick grey clouds,
and I stopped the car and spoke to her aloud,
I climb on top of a nearby rock,
and reached towards her and interlock.
I was just in time for the meeting,
Oh how my soul yearns for this healing.
Mother nature looked at me with a grin
she shook my hand,
and said, “where shall we begin?”
I lamented the troubles of my piercing heart,
and requested for a balance start.
What took you so long?
I know that you have been hurting all along,
and I have been waiting for you to prove them wrong.
“Worry no more,
I am going to fulfill the desires of your burning soul,
look around and tell me what you see,
observe carefully and you will agree.
Let me ignite your body and soul,
and sooth the sorrows that you bore,
sleepless nights,
daily fights,
unfair treatment,
and treacherous lies.
The meeting came to an end,
and I felt free again,
the peshmerga drove up the steep hill
and greeted me with goodwill
Dawn fully broke out into broad day light,
and filled my soul with joy and delight.
©2013 Christine Phillips
There was a hot poet called Jan
Who one day developed a plan
By hook or by crook
She’d write a kid’s book
And a lizard love story began
A lizard meets a pretty girl
Their tongues in unison unfurl
On a mossy rock
Their lives interlock
Together in love they now curl
for my so talented friend
When the rising tides of the storms of life assail,
My hope abides fastened secure to the Rock.
When the chilly waters cause my strength to fail,
My heavy anchor and God’s eternal love interlock.
When the blasts of fear come near my soul,
And the tempest my confidence can defy;
My anchor in the daring straits securely hold,
And firmly embraced in God’s loving arms am I.
My anchor keeps me safely moored in the wind,
Strongly tied to the Rock that commands the calm.
It keeps my vessel’s hull secure and me within,
And never drifts into the waves of a dangerous storm.
And when the floods of death make cables strain,
The hand of God holds tight against the wave.
So my faith in my Savior can fully intact remain,
And my hopes I retain secure and my anchor I rave.
Morning shadows hang empty silence outside my window
Witnessing to mistakes beyond the curtain
While sleepless nights drudge deeper holes in my heart
Your eyes gaze in my direction searching for an answer
Our empty love seeps through the cracks of my searching heart
As I'm waist deep in fear caused by my own selfish mistakes
Blindly letting go to grasp the empty air, I find myself drowning in another love
Boldly suffocating my heart to release secret desires within myself
As we interlock the beautiful connection within our souls
The unblemished sky puts me to rest in the arms of peace
I Celebration in the Year 2000
Cultures combine with cornucopia chalices
Spinning with starry spices steaming dreams
All together with pollination of feather flowers
Flowing with global glowing hope harvests
We capture watercolor waterfalls words
From freedom chests echoing expressions
With experiences exalting joyful gemstones
Teaching circulation of time's dancing chapters
We interlock internally with orchestra grace
Where world's writers inscribe soul scrolls
II Desolation in the Year 2001
Insane airplanes fire and flame wanton wars
From unknown blistering hate death's fate
Buildings burn with smoky skeletons
Tomb's teeth bleed scythe seeds upon
aghast eyesight halting worldwide scarred souls
Ghosts of time's crimson crimes question peace
From horror history halls that crumble with calls
Ringing culture's forever communication chairs
Within time's decorative trusting chambers only
exist with sweating escorts to eagle engine exits
Nature poses in Her spring frock,
dressed in all Her regal splendor.
And tends Her gladiolas, in
the guise of a flower vendor.
Her hair perfumed with jasmine,
Nature poses in Her spring frock.
And the epitome of poise,
She sits gracefully on a rock.
She wears a hat spun by the sun,
adorned with a sweet yellow rose.
Nature poses in Her spring frock,
looking graceful in Her new clothes.
Gentle waves caress weedy shores,
where azure and green interlock.
And on such a beautiful day,
Nature poses in Her spring frock.
(Quatern)
Jan.17, 2016.
Like the moon
In the night sky
Controlling the tide
You are the celestial body
That pulls
My emotional side
Gives life to my ocean
Wannna take you for a ride
Across the universal divide
Show you all the beauty
Of you and me
Interlock eternally
Just like nuclear fusion
The energy of unison
Will create a
Certain kind of love
Those mere mortals
Can only dream of
So this slam is for you p.d.
The only one
With the inner beauty
That can move me
Soothing me
With the continuity
Of the flow
Between me and you
Continuously
Expressing
The bond of affection
With a positive light
Just like the moon
In the sky at night
I'm way over my head
The feelings you compose
(dedicated to the P.D.)
She's like beautiful....nice pretty smile....
She's like a dream....I'll sleep for a while....
She's worth a milion....product of God's work....
She's like everything....everything she's worth....
I sit in my room and picture this fine black....no caramel....no puerto rican....no
venezualian female walking about and around my home like she bought it, HA!
Her eyes green maybe hazel, doesn't matter, because everytime I look at her our
lips touch, hands interlock, and bodies intertwine like vines on a tree. She's like
the best cook, fried chicken, sweet cream corn, candy yams, and the sweetest
red koolade even the hardest ghetto would love. She's like a piece to my missing
puzzle she's like something I'd love over and over again until again is over.
She's like....beautiful....
She's like....sexy....
She's like....untouchable....
She's like....the best thing....
She's like everything I think about when I'm not thinking about thinking about
anything. She's like what matters most when nothing matters at all. There's "I
Love You's" when she's mad and "F--- You's" when she's happy. Plus she knows
I don't like dealing with the drama, but her attitude is automatic, she get it from
her mamma.
She's like....my support....
She's like....my Queen....
She's like....my motivation....
She's like....my dream....
In 1934,
The Big Drum of goodwill
Reeled out pleasant rhythms
To the people of the City of Aluu.
Unto us, a child is given;
Unto us, a warrior is born.
Not to interlock hands and arms
With girating feet holding grounds
In the Ikwerre Wrestling Matches
But born to spill the African ink
On the creeks of Rivers State
Down to the Mediterranean Sea
Of the Colonial Masters
To retell our beautiful stories,
Not as monkeys jumping from tree to tree
But as humans blessed with crude melanin,
Rich in cultured culture of morality.
Indeed! He retold our stories,
Painted great masterpieces
On the canvas of their karfa.
He sold and retailed our tales in the Stock Market
At an expensive price that their pockets respected.
Even though his anticidence
Was a coincidence of incidence
That made him a fish on the beach
But glory be to Chokike
Who molded his paths with wisdom
To discover the pipes of inks
Flowing stories so legendary in him.
As I play pun of his pen product,
Just come to the know that
There is no penny of penitence
When the Concubine fight over the Great Pond.
But when the Sun sets in Biafra,
Isiburu will gladly sip some PepperSoup
Escorted with fresh palm wine
At the Roadside as he watches
The Dancer of Johannesburg
Dance the dance of the Slave
Taught by the Woman of Calabar
To express the Ethics of Nigerian Culture
On the vibrating waist of an African woman
Beaded with rainbow beads of beauty
Singing and Speaking the spoken word poetry
Of her raw, crude, uncut tale of her beauty.
But When God Came,
Isiburu was not ready.
He existed not, he lived.
His words lives on in our hearts, he lived.
He cannot be late coz he lived.
His memories living in our minds, coz he lived.
This is just my splash of colours of words
On the canvas of your minds
To a man who refused to exist but lived.
He is no other than the legendary
Captain of the Pen,
Capt. Dr., Elechi Amadi,
I'm just your poetic son, 2'WYTH.
i cant deny
i seek to fool the interlock
jockey quick to interact
the vista stitched to chili socks
so quick to miss who really rocks
a kid can list the million pox
that riddle the most civil thoughts
freedom needs some nourishment
the evil deeds with servants sent
jealousy a thirsty quench
the melody a ghastly wrench
two pennies hardly make a dent
flabbergast, tricks in contempt
the ladder casted main event
for many cases cause to vent
ideally equal no small percent
super man or mr. kent?
peter pan on the internet
workin on my seventh sense
send me all your sentiments
assets that are moral dense
floral holding sponsorship
counting all the counterfeit
monetary partially
cationically the catalyst to counter it
shocking im seeing toxic
the images not the objects
the sequence of events
perpetuating these prospects
im guesstimating weve lost it
ego the evil holding
our courage hostage
the future much closer to hospice
She loves me, maybe not
Behind silver, she’s shining
We may not be allowed to engage but we've done it,
With pride we've made it,
Forcefully, we've bonded.
Let me trace the pace that we faced.
This is Africa, homos are sinners,
Westerns are tractors
And illegal partners are deceivers.
She loves me, maybe not
We met at work, coincidentally we became friends,
I hate to admit that your face was cuter that the earth itself,
Your body was made with love and peace,
No wonder you glow at night, and shine during daylight.
She confessed, I entertained, she came closer I froze,
My heart beating louder than drums, I felt warn air coming, I was hoping we won’t exchange breath and interlock because we both have boyfriends.
From that moment our lips told each other a secret, we knew we kissed and we love it.
Like thieves we sneaked, escaping from our partners to be together,
Her boyfriend knew that we were close friends, my boyfriend, knew that my friend comes first.
When she sees me with my BF she freak out, when we kiss, her face turns pink, when I give him a kiss goodbye, she walks away.
Surely this is more than lust,
We text we delete, we hate we love, we desire, we pressure,
And flout, we freeing, we pretend it never happened but we end up on the same spot,
Repeating everything that our surrounding hates,
My second lover is a woman,
You may criticize, rejects and hate but our love is pure,
She knows the buttons to press, the music to sing and the melody to play when I’m sad,
I’m neither gay nor rebellious; I’m in love with a woman and man.
Maybe she does love me
Blindfold, sense the beat with your heart
memories in your muscle will move you
alignment to rhythmic body wave
barrida sweep turns to a colgada spin
passion channeling embrace bending
gancho maneuver and a volcada lean
arms around, arms interlock
feel the movement within
synchronicity of one
body, mind and soul
when you discover the rhythm of my inner core
the circle is finally complete
( Learning about Tango Movement Vocabularies )
Spring time there’s activity at the lake
they’re so elegant no one can emulate,
go down see a beautiful phenomenon
the mating game of the whooper swan,
Take your partner turn left then right
bend forward until your heads out of sight,
flap your arms backward then forward
stretch neck, turn head, look skyward,
glide across floor like swans on water
as mating game gets much, much hotter,
partners look into each others bright eyes
look other way then back admire the prize,
kiss one another gently on each cheek
as our swans do with their yellow beak,
step back, bow, turn left then right again
Wiggle as if standing in the pouring rain,
unlike us, swans take a mate for life
beautiful birds, inspirational wildlife,
immaculate plumage so white so clean
love how they attract, how they preen.
Take your partner, turn right then left
relax, enjoy a hug that’s not bereft ,
interlock hands, bend up and down
let go, bow, slowly slowly spin around,
face each other, then both together
bend over and shake a tail feather,
so now we’re at the dances ending
thank each other for beautiful dancing.
5/10/2018
Contest a new dance explained
Sponsored by Brenda Chiri.
(Genre classic country)
Our fingertips brush;
a frisson passes 'tween us
'fore lips interlock.
The zephyr that I couldn't dismiss
And pouring rain only sounds heard
Then the Spirit gave a good word
Go to sleep_rest, Spirit did undergird
God's presence, closer than a kiss
Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
contest: A Catch-Phrase Dazzler: 1 In 5 Choice
Written: December 26, 2012
Envelope Quintet/ information found
Meter at the discretion of writer
Rhyme scheme can be_a, b, b, b, a or
a, b, c, b, a(usually when more than one stanza
then the stanzas interlock)