Best Intonation Poems
Ash - grey chemised
she shifts her shape
as silver flakes float coat
stripped naked places,
sheath curves and angled spaces
Angry glitter tingle stings
thick earth skin with prickly flames
and rumble rise regurgitates
shimmy - shake shudders
in magma's deep thrombosis.
Her feather boa plume
tightens hot cloud chokehold,
acrid smoke flung up in air
without a care, heat exhumes
her arrival, announced fiery flounce -
Hot air blast flicks ash everywhere
Grande dame, her vital force runs hot,
and bold, red and gold- full blooded flow,
feisty fight to escape fate,
inner pulses push a violent urge
to bleed and drape red lava's cape
across green fields, human habitations
Unplacated, rising up, proud impairment
anger virulent, out of hellbent
immolation via pyramidal vent.
She lifts her tiara, red ruby globs,
hurls evidence in defense - great blobs
of royal reign - no abdication!
Throaty roars rend intonation
into screeching supplications -
She knows full well, soon enough,
her phoenix fate infarction
Too late for earth's burst heart
High drama is a living, dying art
Impassioned pleas too late for some,
Earth's burnout buries victims in her wake
High on an island hill,
the boy lay crushed, and still
on temple altar, throat cut, bled out
Hurried offering, did not appease,
nor bring softening release
for angry, ancient mountain
Head caved in by falling blocks
of measured, square cut stone,
the priest grovelled on his knees
Gravel filled their mouths, no space for pleas
No one heard half- whispered final groans
And Earth, once she settled down,
murmured not another sound
Posted 17/08/2018.
Voice
Through a vast jumbled valley of cacophony's roar
One voice
In tones of soprano, alto, tenor and bass
Speaks a universal epiphany
In a rumbling
Resonate
Reverberation symphony,
Neither also or bass,
A quest for agreement of the heart's dialect
Through a maze of unspoken speech
A cluster of sighs
Harmonious chorus of shared joy
Singular groaning lament of empathy
Echoes of gossamer laughter
Murmurs of grief's intonation
Piercing vents of apprehension
Quivering titters under the breath
Shadow symphony of breathing
From the four winds - four seasons -
The tongue of humanity
Exhales in unison a plea
Reaching
From dawn's first breath in dappled divinity
To time's conclusion into the immortal voce sotto.
4-21-23
Contest: V Word Challenge
Sponsor: Constance LaFrance
I lived ... once
I loved and laughed and ached from my marrow
I spoke my soul, and spun my mind to my innervation and impulse
Swam up spirits to the source of their dreams and passions
I moved and breathed and thrived
Slept and soared and savored the tang of carnality
Counted my chaos, and measured my occupations with desire
I danced with angels, dazzled and dark and unearthly
And I sang to the heavens in their wildest weeping
With a voice of callow intonation ... and melodious temper
ALL with a child's heart, and a saint's assumption
Yes, I lived ... once
Full and bright and joyous as a midday meadow
Yet, in the midst of a moment's suffering
A soft, stinging moment of false hope and agony
I pressed, tender, the lips of a curse ...
One deep, warm, melting kiss of a temptress
That turned to a coursing ... of poison
"You will write with such feeling," she whispered, eyes smiling
As the glass between us fogged with her bitter breath
A painted fingertip, shaped and pressed
Tracing my doom in the opaque mist
Oh, vile brutality - to gift me this insight and creativity
Only to shake it ALL from my grasp ...
And turn me ... to dust.
~ 10th Place ~ in the "Opaque" Poetry Contest, Anthony Slausin, Judge & Sponsor.
They hang like a beaded curtain
in a fortune teller’s parlor,
each buoy a bauble
from the sea’s own trove—
sun-faded,
barnacle-bitten,
unstrung from nets
that once strained tides for omens.
Now they sway in the wind,
rattling secrets and guarding
the doorway to elsewhere.
Who dwells behind the curtain—
a castaway witch, perhaps,
who brews fog in mason jars
and weaves seaweed into capes?
A fisherman’s widow still waiting
for him to return from
his final fateful voyage?
Or maybe no one at all,
just wind and longing
and salt-stung light
curling around a chipped enamel cup.
Or maybe an infinitely
unfolding maze that traps
who enters in eternal twilight
where each corridor breathes
with the hush of retreating tides,
walls papered in kelp and longing,
ancient air that smells of old shipwrecks
and unanswered questions.
Some say you can hear a voice
calling your name—not as it is,
but as it was
before you forgot
what you came looking for.
And yet the house remains,
perched above the tide line,
porch sagging like an old shoulder,
paint peeled by salt and time.
Through warped windowpanes
the ebbing light still flickers—
not warm, exactly,
but not unwelcoming.
Seagulls gliding in a gyre.
A foghorn’s distant intonation.
And always, the buoys tapping,
as if to say:
You’re closer than you think.
homemade scarlet string
light Aroma
mottling Degree
burning
autumn Leaves –
with nymph flapping wings
you win
waltz to the rhythms on the
zephyr's caroling strain
rainbow-colored
smooth waves
gently rustling intonation
oriflame Lasting
autumn Carnelian
philharmonic Orchestra
Written: July 29, 2022
With her hands poised and ready, she said, “I will see you at the end!”
Then like horses at the gate, the band would all jump in.
At ease directing classical, Sousa, or big band,
It was hang on to your seat, and get ready to jam!
She corrected wrong notes, intonation, and sometimes raised her voice.
Then the band would play it again, more carefully of course!
At practice she was firm, but liked to have fun.
She was quick of her wit, and rarely could be undone!
She put in many long hours behind the scenes,
Running the band like a well-oiled machine.
She loved her sister, her friends, and her dear pets.
It was a full life, and she had no regrets.
She made the music come to life on warm summer nights,
And friends would tap their feet to the melody in delight.
Keeping in line the flutes, the reeds, and the horns,
Carol Blake was the band director, a job for which she was born.
A small poem “Thirsty Feeling about Nature and love” wrote by Mrs. Madhavi.
“Thirsty Feeling about Nature and love”
Seating nearby valley side,
Astonished by seeing a nature's serene beauty.
Amidst Grassy hills,
zigzagically mounted on the stupefying homeland.
Pristine Water, Sliding from the highest peak,
Flowing in its own way,
Wondering about its challenging destiny.
Love the way you are.
I owe you for myself!!
Wind's whispered, Cheering in its ain way.
Chanting of music beats,
Recited with a soothing intonation.
Birds speaking eloquently..
Dazzling due to marvellous rainbow..
Love the way you are,
I owe you for myself!!
Amazing and enamoured environment aroused my emotions,
Feeling Shy to express.
Missing my dream person,my Mr.Adam.
Versatile persona where are you?
Come here and hug me.
Fuel me up with spirit.
Gift me a smile.
Until forever fades away, Endure me.
Love the way you are..
I owe you for myself!!
Finished dropping stones in water.
Gladly waiting for your arrival.
Testing patience is all enough now.
Wanted to feel the gist of love.
Desire to fulfil wish with pure heart and soul.
Auspicious moments provoking to capture
Love the way you are,
I owe you for myself
by Madhavi
"The Heart Worn Lips"
She wore her heart on her lips as she spoke
the white owl sitting on one shoulder hooting wisdom
the black crow perched on the other hidden in shadow cawing dark things
the voice made moderate in the in-between
rolling out into the aether words like dice
flying to land like black-winged strokes on a wholesome alabaster page
the meaning captured more in the intonation
than the visual puzzle left wide open and waiting unexplained
for the taste of luck in the silent air, in circles the hungry eyes ever watching
the heart worn in flight
the lips stop speaking
the mind takes over
no sound
endomorphism rings
Candide Diderot. ‘24
"Endomorphism rings always have additive and multiplicative identities, respectively the zero map and identity map."
“I can feel myself slowly fading from your mind.”
"Silence is the sleep that nourishes wisdom."
How are you feeling today,
Are you full of hope and inspiration?
Or is life proving a little too much
Bringing you to the point of desperation?
Are things really as bad as they seem?
Sometimes bacause of imagination;
We build up fear and disappointment in our minds
Where we star in a tradgedy of our own creation,
Making our world seem an unfair place
And despair a downward destination......
That's why we need a little thing called TRUST
And to have a positive intonation---
Try saying ALL IS WELL
And BELIEVE in its' implication.
And even if things are really that bad
It will at least give strength to face the situation.
It might even turn things around;
For when we give HOPE and TRUST an invitation
To work their magic in our lives,
To them their is no limitation.
So whenever you're feeling negative,
Welling up with fear and indetermination,
Remember these words-ALL IS WELL
And let them be your life's inspiration.
I was born with this name
A name that cannot be moved.
Through my struggles and through my pain
These shackles I shall remove.
Dignified in all my ways
Eminent proven that can't be replaced.
I am a true man of virtue
That cannot be measured by time or space.
I'm a Star of my own
Reflecting the rays of my thrown.
Magnificent and Majestic
In the land of milk and honey, I am the backbone.
Often misunderstood,
Confound and misconstrued.
Even in contempt of their judgement
My adulation infatuation will remain intact for my brood!
My love is undenying
Everlasting and undying.
Unreplaceable, indestructible
My fable inspires that transcends to be noble.
The King of my castle
A fraction define from a point of a decimal
Denoting in the tenth power
That represents the commandments of my counsel.
In translation...
I'm a man unrecognized by his emotions
Yet his word's expression
Forms a principle which defines in connotation.
My concentration
Concerns to adjourn any iniquitous Interpretation.
Adjudicated as if uneducated
Yet their mind's unable to define the intonation of my elucidation.
So therefore there's no question!
That I am...A son reflected by his own creation.
In his own reflection
My third eye indicates the gift of this phenomenal articulation.
So as my motivation
My delivery will continue to build in its meticulous manifestation.
A man that will man up
To whom, I will claim to recognize his own dejected aberration.
Riding in glides,
super-sailing in leaps-
going on and on about the otherside,
trailing to collide,
and oppressing in the peaks of my plight,
in the loneliest day which is just as night.
I now look to the sky!
Interesting in my sights,
interesting to deny of life,
and the rotating bike,
with some ivory fight,
I now look to the sky!
As your stand-up comedian,
as your rhyme of the eye!
A rye of the ripening fry-
an intrinsic like a cry!
I now look to the sky!
Melancholic,
systematic,
the intimation of procreating during a sustainment-
intonation,
allocation,
the moody croons,
and the wisdom drooping in swoons.
The ink-ur-
slowly to rise but lingers,
Trojan Horse!
'Enemy's Tinkerer!'
And yes also with a sorry clown in a finger,
does it right but still does it meager,
because he is a teacher-
and you reach her.
Every time the lurid outcasts are seen in the wooden brinks,
it's connection is formed through a grave mistake!
The next day is what you take away,
no matter how hard or faked we were in our try-
I sped into the curb but it took me dry.
I worked and worked but nobody saw my eyes,
I was always in a youthful wonder of how we die,
I couldn't peace out or even par-take,
I wanted the real thing just like my base.
Angel of mercy
A small spark kindles in eager young hearts
With a smile, a song, and a destiny
Their souls a perfect match from the start
How sad she was blind to her eternity
She spent many years wasted in searching
Looking for true love with other men
Always believing their love was abiding
Only to have her heart broken again
Angel of Mercy, comfort her tonight
Show her what's wrong and what's right
He adores her heart, he loves her soul
Angel of Mercy, wrap her in your love
Teach her how to let go
All these years the spark still survives
A small ember in ashes of the past
One look into his eyes and her truth arrives
Her true love she recognizes at last
Spark to flame, flame to inferno
All in one look, in one breath
How she missed it before, she will never know
But now she knows she is his to her death
Angel of Mercy, comfort her tonight
Show her what's wrong and what's right
He adores her heart, he loves her soul
Angel of Mercy, wrap her in your love
Teach her how to let go
She longs to tell him 'I love you'
And turns with her arms open wide
Where once he stood, so solid and true
Now only emptiness and darkness reside
She cries out his name in pure desperation
Her soul weeps 'Where has he gone?'
The universe answers with a sad intonation
'I'm so sorry. You simply waited too long.'
Angel of Mercy, comfort her tonight
Show her what's wrong and what's right
He broke her heart, she lost her soul
Angel of Mercy, wrap her in your love
Please teach her to let him go.
“ You know; you look like someone else ”
Was the first thing she said
I never did ask, just who, I reminded her of
Say romance fornicated in the guttering of a candle
And its flame lay in all the rivulets of melted wax
We were the twin coupling of paper straws
As we sipped the sweet nectar
And our tongues lay heavy laden with its sugar
So we basked in the reflection
Of each others mirror
It still troubles me
How in one another’s puppetry
We were just so much the condensation of syrup
Clinging cold to the cardboard cup
And even though our fingers
Could have shamed the bonfires we built
We were nothing more than a mirage
On the horizons of love
Promise me your soul in forever wants
Between the sheets of passion and someone else
All wept in falsehoods with the petals of lilies
And heavy laden tongue now lay split in iron railings
“ You know, you remind me of someone ”
It troubles me still
How we sank with such poetic and tragic quills
Deep to the depths of our own dark inkwells
Never having breached onto a naked shore
Never having ever really, truly, held each other
We were a spasm, a searching for
Alluding to a succinct intonation of meaning
Written playful, colourful on headlines and posters
Fast food prerequisites
To fill the emptiness
Momentarily in some desperation of sincerity
We shared each other’s
Slush Puppy
"Alpha Mnemonic"
Word
Image
without the image
no word
Language
a disease
communicable
by mouth
Alpha from brain
Omega passed
on her tongue
to yours
Ancient codex
genetically kissed
dispersed with
music intonation
gutteral
romantic
cerebral
never rehearsed
language
a virus formed
Mnemonic
from where exactly,
Within?
ad lib
ad lucem
ad libitum
from somewhere
other birthed
codex ancient
Alpha alien
genetic
hive driven
we are observed
writhing in our smalls
amphibian brained
we are still
loud embryos
clashing and clinging
unjust
we are
just learning exotic
movements
within our
blue pitri plate
circular in motion
we are agitated
not calm, chasing long versed
pre-recorded, re-rehearsed tales
a breath blown over us
language divides us
in love and belief
a disease
we are
we think
we speak
we spread
our languages
communicable
by eyes that
envision dreams
of others within
we are not knowing
with clandestined
futures and
over-ripe mouths
to succour
we simulate
ad lib
ad lucem
ad libitum
sensual
cold
science
hot and feverish
we lie
in bed
with irreverent
romantic fate
Omega
ohm resistant
high voltage
across the conductor
Always equal
Metaphors of unity
become
the Sequel
Blissfully ignorant
Ripe Red currents
juiced up and
Blue buries itself
warm palmed
on a soft beating breast
Ideology and
Romance
arrive
late
Memory
lost in the
Alpha
Mnemonic
Stuck in
the warm
and sticky
we grow cold
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
"Language is a Virus" / Laurie Anderson
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hIOnODxUTZQ
a flick of the hair head tilt-
a little coquetish smile a teasing question
all part of the flirting game
tickling winking flattery giggling
speaking those sweet nothings
chatting up
flattering comments
long silly conversations
flirting can be just for fun or be more
friends co-workers total strangers
people flirt
its all in the body language the vocal tone
volume
intonation
feigned interest
the flirter sends out signals a touch a look
perhaps just playful or may be dangerous
a flick of the hair head tilt-
a little coquettish smile a teasing question
all part of the teasing game
can be flattering can be uncomfortable
or can be harmless fun or have more intent
blowing a kiss footsies under the table
raise an eyebrow a little hand touch perhaps
send a secret note
write a love poem
stage an encounter
flirters can be devious and relentless
the batting of the eyelashes old tactic
but it still works
next thing you know your
exchanging personal numbers
careful-
_______________________________
July 13, 2015
Free Verse
For the contest, Flirt, sponsor, Casarah Nance
First Place