Best Ionized Poems
Taking a long ink dip in a desert pond,
rejected drake words
ripple echoes in the wilderness: Tread with care!
Dreadnought thoughts silicate crystalized,
glass menagerie opens to a darkening sky
Wing-tipped metal muse raised to the foreboding air,
infusing liquid lightning to the bard birds
Watching intently as the anti-gravity atoms abscond,
executive electrocution is on a delay timer
Prose avian sentries see
Splitting anti-social charges
seep into the hate-soaked, polluted atmosphere
These momentous crisis changes,
poets of a new dawn articulate so very clear
Tho’ labeled by a scornful society
as being conscientious ugly ducklings,
the fear factor in the swirling wind
keeps increasing it’s whirl war buffeting
Incoming V-formation of ionized mallard birds
dropping kinetic malevolent words
Stork deliver radiation babies —
Blackhawk moving targets that glow
with surgical stealth Caesarian precision
Whilst the designated survivors
be the fleeing flock having open duck ears
Poets of a new dawn
continually pen agitate
strong current ripples in the desert pond
Letting their U2 ugly quill mirage liquidity
dose infect the minds of those
who syringe swan dive in beautiful disbelief
Categories:
ionized, poets, truth, visionary, wisdom,
Form:
Prose Poetry
St. Elmo's Fire
'Twas a fall eve on our flight to the coast
Dressed in my livery this journey I'd host.
A storm was predicted, we would fly 'round
With instrument help from cockpit to ground.
No form of the storm yet could be seen
Our 747 flew like a queen.
Suddenly arose the storm we would fight
It was going to be a bumpy night!
As turbulence began rocking our plane
Cans and bottles fell again and again.
I tried to secure my cart on its tie
Withholding some fear, I won't tell a lie.
Captain announced for us to be seated
His urgent tone need not be repeated.
The lightning storm caused us to fly higher,
Cockpit windows glowed with St. Elmo's fire.
The contrast between bright white and deep blue
A frightening sight for first time to view.
Passengers gripped the armrests of their chair
Sweet babies held tight by mothers with care.
Passengers viewed on crew faces...no fear
Which put them at ease as coastline grew near.
We landed safe and as we taxied in
Applause was heard with appreciative din!
8-20-18
*Note:
Like lightning, St. Elmo's Fire is plasma, or ionized air that emits a glow. But while lightening is the movement of electricity from a charged cloud to the ground, St. Elmo's Fire is simply sparking, something like a shot of electrons into the air. It's a corona discharge, and it occurs when there is a significant imbalance in electrical charge, causing molecules to tear apart, sometimes resulting in a slight hissing sound.The first step in generating St. Elmo's Fire is a thunderstorm.
Categories:
ionized, fear, flying,
Form:
Rhyme
“The heaventree of stars” (in Ulysses as said Joyce)
“hung with humid nightblue fruit” (ah that Bloomian voice)
could evoke a masterpiece the world has come to know,
The Starry Night, so treasured now, by Vincent van Gogh…
In Vincent’s time that painting left even him bemused,
since a ‘failure’ he proclaimed it— that’s the term he used.
He thought he’d reached for stars too big, at too great a height,
but had gone astray; thus he fell short in his own sight.
When he died, no golden eulogistic bells were rung.
His grand galactic genius went utterly unsung.
Oh ill-starred Vincent lunatic asylumed costly fraught distraught instead of bought untold unsold back then yet now extolled far-famed with pricey precious adoration legacied in legend lionized er ionized and glorified chronologized hymned lauded honored canonized enskied aye aye exalted to the skies near-sainted hallowed round the clock as fickle ironies of fate can mock…
Yes, van Gogh was so star-crossed in so many senses.
Gazing at the skies he saw whithers, whys, and whences…
Comparing stars to dotted map led him to ponder
that as one takes a train to destinations yonder
here on earth, perhaps we would ‘take death to reach a star’
or afterlife dimension in hemisphere afar.
The Whirlpool Galaxy his imagination fired
with spiral arms of lanes of stars that indeed inspired
and starburst regions interspersed with dust, in display
of luminescent light not unlike the Milky Way
if it were to overturn and shower forth its jars
in a madly whirling swirling twirling stream of stars.
Anyhow in one way Vincent’s vision was dead right.
Long lives his stellar afterlife in The Starry Night!
To end these astro-reveries with celestial quote
on brighter note, “Hope is in the stars,” the artist wrote.
Van Gogh could see eternity in the heavens’ dome,
in the cycling cosmic courses— there his dreams found home.
~ Harley White
Categories:
ionized, analogy, art, creation, fantasy,
Form:
Ekphrasis
Below the surface
of reality;
incredible things
lie hidden from sight.
A microscopic
magical cosmos;
where liquid light flows
from chromatic pools.
Ionized atoms;
reflect colors in
a kaleidoscope
of shimmering hues.
Molecules align
into crystal form;
and intricate shapes
suddenly appear.
A minuscule realm
that's invisible;
and yet, teeming with
infinite wonder.
Categories:
ionized, beauty, color, how i
Form:
Blank verse
O just a little thunder, Lord
A little booming of the sky,
A little clapping of the heart.
One more shake of mighty Sinai
One more drop of love
Flock upon me your mercy now.
Dry sky and no air
I feel the lung dessicating in me
O how I pray to hear
Just a little thunder, Lord
To feel the lightning flash upon my face
Ionized dust and particles errased
The cordite scent of joy to trace
To water tumbling over the waste.
O just a little thunder, Lord
O let the breeze embrace the breeze
And let your servant rejoice
Let him go on bended knees
And separated from the will of choice
And praise you will not break
Your covenant of peace
Though rocks and mountains shake
And costumes of many colours make
Rags of our lives
It is after the thunder
I see the rainbow there.
Categories:
ionized, faith,
Form:
Free verse
A Lady in Red
The road leading to the main lane is a sight black and shiny
with white stripes on each side, it was resurfaced not for us
locals, but for a golf course in a grove of a thousand olive
trees sacrificed as a sport for infantile men in clown slacks
The day was mild and dark clouds hung around like rugby
players fretting, the other team was late, ready to insult
passers-by and I thought of the petulant title of a book:
” God is not great”, a boy defying everyone, but whistles
in the dark. My road ended at the lane going to Benafim
where a woman in a red dress stood with a unlit cigarette
in her left hand and I noticed her long fingernails were
Phosphor green, she asked for a lighter, said I don`t smoke
trying not to be pompous about it.
She called me a self-absorbed man this angered me much
I pushed her on to the main road where she was hit by
a sport-car, - also red- she and the car disappeared yonder.
From the principal lane, I could see my Sahara a breeze came
carried me like I should be a fall leaf down to the plain and
I was no longer alone, but then the rain came like a dense wall
a ruin appeared it had a wide covered entrance but no roof,
sought shelter. Blood of millions of ant I had trampled on in
my search for beauty was washed away and my feet was clean
and scented as cardinal`s shanks ready for the pope`s ritual.
In ionized shimmer, I saw her again, dressed in red and she is
called, lady poetry.
Categories:
ionized, age, allegory, angel, beautiful,
Form:
Blank verse
single malt sanity, sanitized, ionized,
with a little communion salt.
sprinkle replace, sprinkle to taste,
sprinkle with haste to the holy face.
yet still ground balsa wood icons
perfectly semitrical work to preserve
lesser linoleum countertop grains.
Like in winona minnisota where the midwest
vacuum sealed religion remains intact.
renewed morning by morning
by olive shaded stanley thermoses.
Displaced only on occasion by rubber
gripped cellphones and coffee mugs.
winona Minnesota....
where the Mississippi is the only
true dialect.
home to sugarloaf bluff and
the basilica of saint stanislaus.
that lesser known bishop of krakow
who may have been martyred but first
got stoned at fourteen underneath
the sugarloaf.
See him now stacked up and slid down the bar
the bishop of all cardboard regalia.
Holy under a golden pint ring halo of IPA..
Categories:
ionized, autumn,
Form:
Blank verse
It has just begun.
The maps have unraveled in topographic templates, unmarked by geographic spaces.
They’ve been replaced by frequencies emerging from what we once knew as separate places.
For a place is but a point in space, dancing in a coordinated sense of distance:
Between spots upon an image rendered by an observer’s vision.
Now a thought is but a place betwixt the plane of earthly space; of which the spy has had an eye, on the needles threading their lace.
Thoughts are simple physical pulses, exuding pressure upon the no-longer void, of what was once an empty space, now filled with vibrant places.
A net of interconnected pulses precludes the human nature, now stripped of comfort of untouched convection adorned by Internet.
Yes, our thoughts were once unvisited places in the void of space, but now, yet another genocidal Columbus has mapped them and claimed them so.
Watch the eye that seeks treason of such a claim,
For it seeks not to see but to ready arrows with aim.
To interlace the traces of neurons, electrifying the once-ionized air,
Now not by lightning but by heavy metals hovering above your hair.
For the brain and computer are being interlaced with maps made those who make,
An interface of gestalt hives thriving against each other’s shrinking sake.
The next time you seen an ad on Facebook for something you just thought,
Remember that thoughts are now mapped by men with computers’ unknown plot.
Wink. Wink.
Remember to think.
Categories:
ionized, betrayal, computer, corruption, internet,
Form:
Free verse
Malignant gangrenous political cancer
corrupts, festers, and poisons United States,
thus opposition cannot wait,
especially since Gospel in accordance
with feeble minded Donald Trump
implemented wrought ugly trait,
particularly obliteration, sans progressive
human rights legislation
more or less pronounced positive
in every L ionized Nittany or cotton bowl state
and ratiocination inherent within
mine Democrat oriented mind doth rate
this forty fifth president (defect)
with sawdust packing
his noodle oven egotistical pate
trophy wife (spouse number three),
a Slovenia mate
donning "I don't care anymore"
t-shirt rousing media firestorm of late
essentially silently corroborating,
fostering, and illuminating hate
mutely bolstering the Trump anthem,
viz make America great
again, which pathless,
pithless, and pointless aim
roars like an earsplitting runaway freight
train oblivious of wailing soul asylum,
that no era meets said criteria
backtracking time machine before
rightful indigenous occupants of this land
got decimated as one after another
exploiter did inundate
(comprising a multitude
of indigenous variety of village people
indignantly subjected to Genocide,
when first "discoverer"
of new land didst promulgate
activation wrought deliberate sealed fate
vis a vis capitulation, demolition,
and extirpation, cuz
a scathing rebuke aye attest,
those murderers didst equate
worthlessness of
so called "Indians" on 1492 date,
and still remnants of storied tribes,
now attempt to create
historical documentation operate
ting with limited resources to adjudicate.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Food methinks doth buzzfeed drumbeat agog
at pyrotechnics July 4th, 2018 shared as blog
posts, a falsehood prevails which dog
gone “FAKE” brewed watered down grog
posits that the majority of Colonialists stay hog
tied to strict task masters, and mainly the scant
upperclass experienced autonomy,
no matter the under class didst futilely rant
and rave with the occasional
uprisings over time did grant
minimal appeasement to stifle violent kant!
Categories:
ionized, 11th grade, 12th grade,
Form:
Epic
"Sight of both eyes lost",...
I wake up in a world of infinite darkness.
My new receptors learnt to succor my woe.
A shadow cast in an illusion of light,
now winks and mocks my scourge.
Asteroids crash deep within my citadel of dreams,
and swirl in a black hole of a pit
usurping a halcyon montage of images.
But within deep eons of my mind,
ionized dust squash together into unknown plasma.
A revolving square of astral grandeur
A new galaxy is born in my nebula..
Rapacious Red and Flamboyant Orange
now brighten all my black to refulgent glory.
Light years away in a sea of new cosmic space,
I search my old love... in my new moon.
Dated 12th June, 2019
Sponsor William Kekaula
Contest Name Nifty Named Nebula's
Picture #7 Red Square Nebula
Categories:
ionized, dark, light, loss, soulmate,
Form:
Free verse
The clouds have collided as do bumper cars careened,
Aimed to smash each other into molten smithereens.
Seven hundred and seventy miles per hour they go,
Breaking the boundaries of what sound vibrates below.
Supersonic plasmic bolts blast betwixt the gaseous slaughter,
Of ionized particles parlayed in stratus strung pools of water.
In noctilucent litany the benumbing bombed booms of nimbus lightning,
Shakes the horizon in zapping hums the brontophobes find frightening.
For Mjolnir has struck the cloud's anvil with a might of the Norse,
Whose platinum horseshoes smack the sky with thunderous force.
Categories:
ionized, nature,
Form:
Couplet
inexpressible longings
stirrings of breezes
tunes drifting on the currents, through my window
with the scent of the ionized nitrogen lighting air
and clouds, light and whispy, radient gradients of color playing between
oh, how i long to be alive again
to be alive some more
more life
always and ever, my cry
more life, more life
the music is overwhelming me
with its beauty and gravity
and chemical peace transmitted neurologic
blood currents
the pain and fear and horror of being
the promise and hope
that faith portends
my body, my flesh
craving, lusting
burning
this fire is ever present
the fire of the spirit
is ever present
longing, begging, screaming
life
more life
Categories:
ionized, angst, life, longing, lust,
Form:
Free verse
July-August Perseids
a moon free dark sky
glowing ionized gas trails
meteors at peak
Categories:
ionized, august, july, planet, space,
Form:
Haiku
I'm sick, I'm tired,
I've had enough.....
of "truth" and of lies....
I've been poked, prodded,
tested and bested,
festered, rested,
sequestered, requested,
wester'd, vested,
pestered, wrested....
and once, nearly arrested....
I've been analyzed,
crystallized, mesmerized,
pulverized, traumatized
criticized, idolized,
poked in the eyes,,
I've baked bad pies,
rid of flies,
immortalized, cloisterized,
checked for lies, realized,
utilized, memorized,
fantasized, exercised,
launderized, manipulized,
anesthetized, categorized,
demonized, nebulized,
pulverized, atomized,
vulcanized, deputized,
ionized,vaporized,
westernized, circumcised,
but now I have realized,
I see the world
in different eyes,
than those who call it
a pack of lies,
and if one really tries,
you can see what
a simple word buys,
not a burger and some fries,
but joy, laughter, insight
and possibly cries.
please don't bother to spell-check me,
I don't use it, I don't use the rhyme dictionary,
(allright, but just twice...) you get what
you see... right or wrong
it will be what it will be...
Categories:
ionized, art, funny, on writing
Form:
Burlesque
Disrobing the flesh of ancients
In a continuous hot pursuit
A growing embryo
Spreading into the ether
The ionized atmosphere
With contant cosmic outpouring
The last tenet
Of man's unbridled elite
Casting his instruments
Proding stardust for clues
Yet all analysis recedes
When a grand synthesis sweeps
A human life course
Forever resonating with the truth
Categories:
ionized, science fiction,
Form:
Free verse