Best Intersecting Poems
A cocooned cacophony of crickets serenades overgrown fields,
drowning out the creaking of rusted cars long since abandoned.
Maroon and sable tents blot the dilapidated ground—
bloated and weathered,
strips of fabric flapping in the harsh elements.
Legends of wraiths wander,
replicating whispers of infected insanity.
Laughter lingers in suspect echoes,
Rippling from pasts reborn in presents: futures to be later replaced by the past.
The smell of burnt sugar crackles with the purr of buttered kerneled corn: invading the nostrils with senses whose stimuli feign belief.
A faint humming of Entry of the Gladiators creeps in loudening crescendos, adding to the cacophony deigning dormancy in the field
Fragmented timelines intersecting by the call of the Barker
Stained cotton candy melts, reconstitutes, melts once more
Saturating replicating stands with insidiously sticky omens
Ghastly sickeningly sweet mori mementos
Resurrecting the dead from preternatural slumber.
Within fractured milliseconds, the cycle of the tormented deceased rise
From the ashes of unburnt airwaves,
Rippling through screaming minutes yet frozen in the midst.
A varicosed bearded woman floats aloft grassy overgrowth
Reanimated tigers lurk and phantasmal elephants howl,
Rings round the air in gaseous hush, like cigars puffed by moustachioed men of game,
Insufflating smoke with striped suits in candied reds and white.
The air rises to the resurrected show,
Cries confused for laughter tickle cochlea of the living.
Categories:
intersecting, dark, death, gothic, imagery,
Form:
Free verse
Remnants of Eden United
Scattered shards, remnants of Eden,
Gathered to a ring of bright topaz
A simultaneous soliloquy of intentionality
At the crux of intersecting avenues,
Indivisible solidarity and singular consent,
Distilled in breathless agreement
Rising from opaque mists
Where gypsy heart and pilgrim spirit
Commit to a blind quest,
Stumble in silence toward the joining
As their plea peers into fleeting glimpses
Of merging tranquility
And
Feel the quickening of a singular pulse
In wordless words,
Translated by acrostic identities
Through star crossed collisions
Of shattered betrayals,
To exhale one sigh – one whisper -
Overflowing in lyrical foundations
Of delighted synchronized accord
In geometric solutions of rhymes and rhythms -
Journey into enchantment of unbreakable roundness -
A seamless garment of the eternal’s delight,
A fusion of two conscious worlds spoken as one breath.
Categories:
intersecting, life,
Form:
Free verse
Touching of souls
On intersecting paths
In the same dimension
In the same time zone
It’s a kinship miracle
And a fortuitous blessing
Think of it
Our light’s not always on
We’re not always home
Connecting is a true
Alignment of forces
On a higher plane
A flicker of magic
Not to be taken for granted
AP: Honorable Mention 2022
Submitted on January 8, 2019 for contest JAN 2019 WK2 sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - RANKED 1ST
Originally posted on March 28, 2018
Categories:
intersecting, appreciation, blessing, destiny, longing,
Form:
Free verse
A cocooned cacophony of crickets serenades overgrown fields,
drowning out the creaking of rusted cars long since abandoned.
Maroon and sable tents blot the dilapidated ground—
bloated and weathered,
strips of fabric flapping in the harsh elements.
Legends of wraiths wander,
replicating whispers of infected insanity.
Laughter lingers in suspect echoes,
Rippling from pasts reborn in presents: futures to be later replaced by the past.
The smell of burnt sugar crackles with the purr of buttered kerneled corn: invading the nostrils with senses whose stimuli feign belief.
A faint humming of Entry of the Gladiators creeps in loudening crescendos, adding to the cacophony deigning dormancy in the field.
Fragmented timelines, intersecting by the call of the Barker.
Stained cotton candy melts, reconstitutes, melts once more.
Saturating, replicating, stands with insidiously sticky omens.
Ghastly sickeningly sweet mori mementos.
Resurrecting the dead from preternatural slumber.
Within fractured milliseconds, the cycle of the tormented deceased rise.
From the ashes of unburnt airwaves,
Rippling through screaming minutes yet frozen in the midst.
A varicosed bearded woman floats aloft grassy overgrowth.
Reanimated tigers lurk and phantasmal elephants howl.
Rings round the air in gaseous hush, like cigars puffed by mustachioed men of game.
Insufflating smoke with striped suits in candied reds and white.
The air rises to the resurrected show,
Cries confused for laughter tickle cochlea of the living.
Categories:
intersecting, analogy, dark, death, horror,
Form:
Rhyme
Two lines intersect
an inherently
unstable situation.
Parallel lines
are better
each proceeding
separately in
the same direction
balanced by forces
of attraction/repulsion.
But if these change
the lines diverge
or intersect (see above).
Sometimes two
intersecting lines
may align
with a third
forming a
triangle.
Which is stable
but generally
disapproved of.
Very occasionally
two lines may meet
end to end
and curve
to form
a circle
which is
One.
Categories:
intersecting, math,
Form:
Free verse
Patterns gleam in the sun
Threads lie side by side
Or criss-cross
In intricate patterns
Like individuals intersecting
Within the family
Each dependent yet separate
Blues, reds, greens and yellows complete the rhythm
Any strand pulled from this parade of colors
Reveals a gap in dreams unfulfilled
How I love you,
My middle child,
You are the elegant pendant
Dropping gracefully
From our necklace’s mid-point
Giving meaning to our chain of life
How I love you,
My middle child,
You are the glue
Within life’s weavings
Irrepressible giggles erupt in play with older sister
Whispered consultations emerge from pillow sessions with younger brother
Bridging, always bridging
Giving, always giving
Know, my middle child,
Those stirring fears
Of being in between
Are fleeting ghosts
Your constant beauty shines
Like the lighthouse globe
Signaling to all
Your presence
Rejoice in your role,
My middle child,
Imagine a shimmering reflection pool
Whose immutable colors
Expand and multiply
You are vital to a whole
That is greater than its parts
And you are loved deeply
Happy Birthday, Maureen
Love, Mom
September 27, 2014
Categories:
intersecting, anxiety, birthday, blessing, child,
Form:
Free verse
Poem as depicted here.
___________________________________________________________
CIRCUMLOCUTION was inspired by the poem, Him & Her Intersection, by Brian Bilston. In the 2015 Great British Write Off, he won the poetry prize for this poem disguised in a Venn diagram. My interpretation of the intersection poem scans differently to his as the intersected part is to be read in a loop, as suggested by the title.
The Venn diagram poem is an interesting intersecting visual poem written inside a two-circle Venn diagram.
It could be written on any subject where a contrasting viewpoint is key to a successful intersection poem. The idea is for the two outer sections (the opposing views) to be read independently taking the intersection into account, for example, xxxxxxxx X / X xxxxxx (the lines don’t have to be of an equal length.) This intersected piece ‘X’ should flow in a logical statement from top to bottom—I aimed for imagistic prose.
Categories:
intersecting, math, relationship,
Form:
Free verse
Do you walk around and wear Him as a vest and only reveal Him when the heat gets too much
Does His heartbeat, beat to the beat of yours
Is your blood infused with His and does it flow from within His veins
For when He hanged at Calvary He took part in the greatest blood transfusion ever heard off
Are you in Christ or is Christ in you?
Do you only use His name when it is suitable?
Trying to fit in with the crowd when in fact you should not conform to the standards of this world
Relying on your own unstable knowledge?
Formed from the opinions of editors of magazines, newspapers or news bulletin
Practically too afraid to refer to His word in case someone might miss-taken you for a bore
Does the term brethren only refer to you when you are confined by the four walls of your church building?
Cause the minute you step outside the gates you take salvation
Carry Him by the hand and hide Him away when you interact with your peers
Sneaking into clinics, thinking no one can recognize who you
Must applaud you, you’re a great actor
But be warned because the director in heaven has control to bring an end to the scene in which you’re acting
You see even The Pill couldn’t help
Masturbating with the idea of being saved
While Intersecting with your evil desires
Talk about gratification of the Flesh!!!
No concentrative can terminate the conception of sin
Which planet are you from
Venus, Jupiter or Mars
It doesn’t really matter for it was He who created all things under the heavens
Where have you ever seen the branch carrying the Vine?
If you are sitting down
With your mind entangled by this question
Distinguish this…
When you’re in Him, He takes your nakedness and shamefulness
And allows His glory to be the very covering
When you’re in Him, your flaws are eliminated because they are engrafted on the side in which He was pierced
For He is the very foundation of all things
When you’re in Him, He changes the very way in which you walk
Sometimes His wrath will have you limping back across the river just like Jacob – I mean Israel
Choose today in whom you will abide!
Are you in Christ or is Christ in you!!!
Categories:
intersecting, youth, planet,
Form:
Written February 24, 2012
One too many times
Our love has been unkind
To the rigors and chills of the snow
The streets they meet
Intersecting the heat
But the cold will blow without heed
To rekindle the flame
Must sound quite insane
But it's all I have left in this world
Yet to feed from the hand
Of another's demands
Could lead to the start of the fall
Ride the wind
Wherever it goes
Don't ask it questions
You don't want to know
The wind will carry you home
Categories:
intersecting, absence, autumn, december, emotions,
Form:
Lyric
I rather watch a kestrel to see
Her swoop and swirl
The skies invisible maze
To feed the inhabitants of her nest
Her milk of gratitude
Morning begins with a bright darkness
And the beckoning beaks for food
There is a wind ruffled mood
Yawing the feathers of the breast
Dawn is a ransom for the truth
Her flight negotiates
The billowing whirlwind
Of dust
Settled in the bowl of expectation
It is the African way.
Courage cannot wear shackles
When the protest comes
This transition
Have shaken superstructures
Not roots, but leaves
Any grafted branch can bear
We did not invent this way
This democracy
Churning chaos out of selfishness
This way of bridging men's hope
This inclusion that is exclusive
This decomposition of old bargaining
Of parables under ancient trees
Strange shifts happen
When we disrobe our cloth
Baring ourselves of familiar primitives
Was not the old ways good enough
Why did we not transform it
While the time was transforming us
Into spectacles
Since we did not want to be invisible still
Will we transform what we
Have borrowed
Into a resemblance of our sense
Of equality, belonging and value?
The base fumbles into sectors
Carved by streets intersecting villages
Divided by self interests
More than any division of our origin
We who came from Jamaica
Barbadoes, Trinidad
And Guyana
Leaving Elmina, Shama, and Sekondi behind
Cattled in the coral that was not pearl
Permitted by a sympathy of the Unites states
Came here forming a new state
Out of forgotten memories
Of lost addresses and broken grief
Of kinship disillusionment
Called this Liberia
Clothing the construction of autonomy
With the identity of freedom.
Is it surprising then this tension
This fractious existence
In a dark forest of genocide
That each sit not well with self as stranger
For this group have no social memory
Beyond the coming of the ships
Until a common bond is forged
From the sorrow of years of fire
To form a new collective identity
Nothing speaks to the deep insecurity
Where there is a need for belonging
Like the suckle of the milking breast
Soft on the flesh of the tongue
With kindness
Telling us our faults
Teaching us to be brothers again
Telling us how to feel the humanity
In our forgotten hearts
Straining to build out of the pain.
Categories:
intersecting, black african american, history,
Form:
Free verse
As Adam’s gift emit into her statuary,
The echo in her spine, screamed and cracked because of the screw
Her Ebonics layer was smooth and soft
As her mouth thirst for a missile
As the as massacre descended into caressing
Caressing into the unknown
Tongues webbed and waxed in emotions
Emotions mixed with commotion
A departure from ocean’s commotion
As the couch shook as an earthquake
A lightning strike through her breasts
As Moses rod divided the red sea
As we both pass through the swelling sea
Tears oozed from her eyes
Smiling all the way, as the ride and the pipe intersecting
Slide show covers the dark
Then a knock knocked down the atmosphere
It was a friend
I stood from her sanctuary
Coming back to chase my illusion,
She was gone…
awoh awoh
Categories:
intersecting, love, romance,
Form:
Classicism
Cobwebs of branches
intersecting, reaching out
Destination sky.
Categories:
intersecting, nature
Form:
Haiku
Dark shadows are dancing
Around my bed tonight
This night’s been a mixture
Of what is good and what seems bad
Tonight’s been transcendent
And I’m alone in my room again.
The glow of the lamp sprawls out across my empty desk
And creeps over the surface of the brown, fake wood,
Gradually dimming, decreasing, decaying.
Tonight’s been a night of thoughts and I’m too tired to think.
Tomorrow’s another day that will also soon go away
I’m too tired to want to play, to write, to watch tv.
Too drained and confused to see what is bothering me
The shadows and the light and the mixture of the three
Cannot be understood so easily, not at all unlike the concepts of geometry.
Geometry came easy to me, because it made no sense.
Let’s look at a bunch of silly shapes and mash them together.
When told to paint a picture of your abode
My classmates showed off their woodworking skills
And talent at depicting botany.
Floral motifs crowded the walls of the halls
And I’m tired of seeing all those two-eyed, closed fisted replicas.
My abode was a series of color splotches, sometimes, often, but not always,
Fitted to a particular shape, not readily exemplifying anything that’s real.
There’s a shadow a hundred miles stretching
Between me and concert, where I don’t want to go.
I don’t want to celebrate or make noise. There’s a light
A hundred miles between me and humanity
But it’s intersecting, perpendicular madness cannot benefit, only digress
There’s a hundred miles between me and something, it’s somewhere I don’t
want to be.
Don’t take me home and don’t sing me prayers, I can’t hear lullabies,
Even under compassionate stares.
Categories:
intersecting, angst, me, me,
Form:
Couplet
My pen pleads
Lonely nights offer moments of silence
and one dish suppers where candlelight seems a waste
Seated with pen in hand, I smooth the ruffles beneath
as if that will help the words flow
Upon closer inspection I find
fancy patterns on the dining room tablecloth
mimic the movements of my hand,
layered one atop another, calling on each to oblige
Crossing lines, intersecting at pre-destined points,
repeating in harmony with one another
as my thoughts gather in the opaque vastness
of this rectangular parchment staring at me
Moving in sync with swirling ridges on the corners
and scribbled etchings along borders,
the tip follows fantasies of a mind in a dream state,
drawling each curve in my own random design
Cartoonish figures joust with balloon dragons
amidst the sunflower faces, some smiling, some not
on cursive stems sprouting from geometric signals
and sharp pointed periods ending ideas
Fabric folds neatly collect the blotches of spilled ink
seeping slowly through the cloth
like raindrops on a leaf following the veins
in an abstract yet confined flow
To the blurred eye sits nonsense,
a collection of nothing on a vast white sheet
dancing like uneven feet on a rounded floor
of no particular meaning or feature
Yet to me, my penned doodling calls loudly,
even in the darkness of lost words, these patterns,
as is everything found filling me is her,
and my pen pleads in heart shaped longings
Categories:
intersecting, longing, writing,
Form:
Free verse
Sometimes I think that days and moments
feelings and emotions should be linear
add them up in neat columns
clear solutions
But most days
i do not know the formula
to use or how to frame the equation
that shows me the way to your heart
Geometric shapes of light, angles with edges
lines intersecting and
rays diverging--obtuse, acute
often on the edge
of degree
of emotion
of passion
The digital protractor of my soul
honed to measure sharp edges
built in horizontal spirit levels
precise
yet not
I know well the shapes of your shadow
the light from your smile and the
warmth of your embrace
but your Cartesian coordinates baffle me
I can not find the quadrant or the axis
Bring me back to the sums of children
where love adds up and your heart
aligns with mine
Categories:
intersecting, introspection, love, pets, me,
Form:
Free verse