Best Jolts Poems
Insanity or Death
Life begins with insanity~~
~Your soul is kicking and screaming,
Ready to exit with the touch of human hands.
Insanity rides on a gallant stallion ready to pant.
Hides in the mind, mourning its captive soul.
Ready to breach over holding its breath.
Projecting in and out without a guide.
Bites away at the feast, enchants for freedom.
From the lips……….....
Taking length against a world of dilemmas,
Contrasting to a never happy end.
The epidermis cover every wall of insanity.
To live, to eat, and to suffocate it determination without air.
Dramatically hallucination against its will of no wells.
Until it realizes it can drink without water.
No further needs a slumber.
The mind-bends and unfolds to ordinary jolts,
When left to human consummation.
Insincerely bidding and cutting to die in the sleep.
Is how it pleads!
Graves where dreams have no meaning.
Caves where goodness can be redeemed.
A temple of misguided fortune.
All respect lost to this infection,
The patients’ weight distracted from an antidote.
The madness begins too finds admiration-
That makes catastrophe go on and on.
The psychosis of the mind and mockeries of them will never be gone
Dictating in everything wrong,
Layers of cramped bricks, level the isolation.
Death drags its feet off into this infinite helix world.
A source of light breeding out of darkness.
"Sanity is no friend of mine!"
Insanity is earth herself,
Where there is life, there is a reason,
Where there is reason, there is madness,
Where there is madness, there you are,
Feeling nothing………………...
Lost in darkness................
~Your soul is kicking and screaming
Life ends with death~~
(first I feared life, now I fear death)
Categories:
jolts, abuse, adventure, art, how
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
Jack London's Call of the Wild
First brought to our attention in the year 1903
by a name that somehow jolts illusive memory
but how can we recall something so long ago
when we were never born, how then could we know?
Perhaps nature revealed the need to study more
black wolves upon our land reaching on to shore
or was it but an interest to avoid daily routine
the fascination of wolves that we have never seen?
This calling of the wild could it be an illusion
a mere excuse to escape then lost in delusion?
whatever the reason feelings scream beware
always be afraid of the wolf who isn't there!
Categories:
jolts, nature,
Form:
Rhyme
I may not always write about you,
About the way your energy,
Caresses my spine,
And sends jolts of electrity,
Racing through my body,
Exploding each cell like fireworks.
I may not write about,
The way my dreams at night,
Fill with you and I dancing,
Heat bashing our skin,
Filling us with an unquencable need,
Touch beconing a new meaning.
I may not write about,
The way your eyes stare into mine,
Past the years I have seen,
And into the soul that I am,
Spirit colliding with spirt,
Melting together like Iron to form a sword.
I may not write about,
A love that we experience,
Through star strewed skies,
And blood soaked ground,
That causes even the fearful sight,
Of bombs exploding to look beautiful.
I may not write about you and I,
How I fill up your soul and your mind,
With thoughts and words and images,
That melt and form new words,
Your lovely muse who so beguiles you,
With a double bladed sword.
But Darling, don't let your heart,
Get away from itself,
Don't let your heart take the fall.
The wound I cause shall soon heal,
And you will read words,
Of another man, dancing with me,
Of another man, touching my soul,
His finger tips brushing the sides,
Of my breasts, his lips trailing down my neck,
Whispering with the heat of hells fires,
All that could be between, his and mine.
You will read lines that speak,
Of a sensual romance,
Pools and puddles of lust between thighs,
And an ancient sweetness,
That rivals Greek Ambrosia.
It is no fault of your own,
You have fallen and I have shown you,
The sharp dagger of my love.
Categories:
jolts, angst, beauty, betrayal, change,
Form:
Free verse
In novels, love is the obstacle overturned by the ardent swain
In song, love is a grandiose solo in melodic chains
In poetry, love is fervent rhyme in syncopated refrain
In movies, love is a monologue in the rain
In real life, love is made of little things
Of scraping burnt crust off the grilled cheese
Of putting his favorite soda in the fridge, to be cold when he gets home
Of giving up the comfy chair to his aching back
Of putting ice in plastic bags to sooth the shocking jolts of pain in his spine
Of slipping his shoes on and off because he can not bend to do it
Of sleeping alone in the king-size bed upstairs because climbing steps is too excruciating for his weakened legs
Of driving him through rainy rush-hour traffic for his physical therapy
Of watching his face contort when he walks and knowing there are no words of comfort to abate his agony
Of smiling at his goofy jokes, just to have an instant of relief
Of linking fingers while waiting for what the doctor will say
Little things are the cushion
When the world comes down.
2/7/19
Categories:
jolts, caregiving, husband, pain, sick,
Form:
S - P - R - I - N - G
Ah! Harsh cold winter must be tired,
his grip weakening, he breathes his last.
The frowning skies finally crumble fast
revealing downy blue clouds that waltz
The sun blows kisses of shine--- like a rainfall
touching, caressing but melting adagio
the white icy coats among branches...
The blossoms sultry strip to loosen their curves
then upon naked arms of trees curls
the color green trembling with symptoms of spring.
Birds twiddle free to sound like thrums.
Evergreen trees duet as they whistle
to calm tunes of nippy breeze.
All around a choir blushing fountain hues
of brown, red, pink and yellow.
Animals long-hiding from hugs of frost
now stands. They burst with grins and jolts--
like squirrels bouncing up and down.
Butterflies outstretch wings flutter by!
Snow that clogs and plugs finally weeps--
running dry with the heat rising slow on air.
It stirs sweet liquid pearls
to tip-toe on leaves and petal's swells.
Buzzing bees chase fresh floating nectar...
Lured, they dance on merry-go-round
in the warm bosom of smiling sunshine.
Coats and boots all pack and rolled away,
chuckles and giggles tickle the daytime flair
as little children prance to do some plays.
_____________________________________________
POEM OF THE DAY -- JANUARY 07, 2015
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Contest Name: Seasons
Placed 1st
©O.E. Guillermo
06:49 pm, January 01, 2015
Categories:
jolts, beautiful, imagery, nature, seasons,
Form:
Personification
What is it to hear a poem?
Ears ajar.
Eyes focused.
Mouth shut.
I struggle to listen when such words cut open
my head and try to make a nest out of my brain.
I DO NOT WISH TO HEAR A POEM!
My body jolts under these straps of limitation,
tightened by my ability to hear.
Why must one be limited to hear a poem?
I cast out stones towards those who care to listen.
Why don’t we be the poem?
Climb inside the mouth of a poem and
understand it’s true voice.
Be the pen kicking fiercely at the paper,
leaving behind marks of genius and creativity.
Rip open the heart of a poem and suck its
blood dry.
Feel a poem.
Be a poem.
Live a poem.
See words rise from the paper,
as they dance between the strings
of your heart.
Grab a hand of the message and twirl
it around your mind and smother its
meaning with praise.
Curl up inside the dot of an ‘i’.
Slide across an ‘l’ and mold it into a ‘t’.
Travel across an empty plain were stubborn
boulders cry.
Attack black and white ideas with shades
of blue and green.
Drive a sword through their hearts and leave
them dead to what is known.
Fight a poem.
Hurt a poem.
Heal a poem.
Turn the waste of sound into
vibrant waves of belief and inspiration.
Let yourself be swept away by
imagination and surrealism.
Find your soul inside of a poem and
claim it as your own.
Bring down the fortress of structure and
make its remains into martyrs of lost cause.
Open the doors of a poem and remodel
what’s inside.
NO! I do not want to hear a poem!
It sends pain through my soul to see the
voice of a poem silenced by the ignorant
dangers of sound.
Help yourself and plug your ears.
Visualize the words through serene images of
beauty cultured by unmatchable craft.
See a poem.
Grab a poem.
Know a poem.
Be influenced by a poem.
Learn a poem and all of its meanings.
Threaten a poem.
Scare a poem.
Stab a poem.
Teach it how to live amongst a world of vultures,
hungry for mistakes and misinterpretations.
Guide a poem into a building filled
with a million little fingers.
Like a poem.
Be touched by a poem.
Love a poem.
Show the world your insides.
Show them the words to your poem.
Categories:
jolts, devotion, imagination, inspirational, passion,
Form:
Personification
Watching Blackie
Counting sheep
His heavy head
Flops into sleep
Soon enough
His ears do twitch
Muffled barks
Some fervent sniffs
Then his paws
Begin to stir
Muscles ripple
Beneath his fur
I imagine
What canines dream
Chasing sheep
It would seem
Just then he stops
But doesn't wake
Legs out stiff
Like a rake
Eyes snap open
Lets out a whimper
Long and low
Near a whisper
I call his name
To wake him up
He jolts awake
My loyal pup
His crazy dream
From my analysis
A serious case
Of Sheep Paralysis
18.01.07
Composed for Eve Roper's
There Is A Brighter Side
Photo #3
Categories:
jolts, dog, dream,
Form:
Rhyme
A long, long time ago, when I was young,
on watching skaters move on Poets’ Pond,
(some gliding with great skill, some taking falls).
I donned skates of my own and I began. . .
Around, around I went, and in my mind,
a lilting rhythm came and said to me:
Go ON and ON and ON and ON and ON.
But I was youthful, restless, uninspired. . .
I left that pond and put my skates away,
to take a path removed from poetry.
Ten years became a decade, then ten more,
and suddenly, a new millennium!
My muse, now heartened, came to me and brought
those skates, which for so long, I had not used.
A bit unsure, I stood beside that pond.
The skates seemed more attractive now. They gleamed!
And something else - new thoughts came to my mind!
The things I’d dreamed and lost; the things I’d gained
came flooding over me; then said my muse -
Go ON and ON and ON and ON and ON. . .
I noticed all around me other souls
who often showed completely different styles!
Some glided with elaborate smooth moves
while others whirled and danced with arabesques.
The artists leapt and made me catch my breath,
another group did spins to make me laugh.
Some moved, at times, with jolts, and some fell down,
but rarely did a one of them fall out!
For all of them shared passion for one thing -
and so to Poets’ Pond we’d all been drawn.
Go ON and ON and ON and ON and ON,
my sweet muse whispered, and I could not stop.
I tried to model those who skated free,
for some of them made circles all around
me, and I dearly wished that I could be
among that group, glean popularity!
But all I really know and like to do
is move to my own beat. Iambic skates
are those that fit me best. No world-class star
I’ll ever be in poetry’s new world,
but ON I’ll go - and ON and ON and ON. .
Categories:
jolts, me, muse,
Form:
Blank verse
Agile
Black
Cats
Dart
Eerily
From
Gloomy
Hallways
Initiating
Jolts -
Killing
Lackadaisical
Moods
Notably
Of
People
Quintessentially
Ruffled -
Spooking
Them
Unduly -
Verifying
Wanted
Xenial
Yearnings
ZAPPED
Nov. 9, 2021
for William Kekaula's Alphabet Soup Poetry Contest
Categories:
jolts, cat,
Form:
Abecedarian
Of late, nature moans inside a scraped womb
As her lush environ FLOUNDERS breaks out…
Played like a trusting NEOPHYTE from woods to rivers
She endures the BOMBAST of dirt through man’s crimes:
Awaiting kindness …amends remain undone
While LECHEROUS deeds persist without guilt, why, why?
More wrongs ravage innocent fish and flora
Infecting her very marrow, to drain away.
Loot, SMOLDER, rip a body ! Time runs out.
Mother Earth answers through bloodied jolts…
By will of PROVIDENCE, she whips a storm without INHIBITION
Halting indifference, her fire scalds air’s layers,
A battle citizens might grow DOLOROUS over--
Until her soul is nourished back, till she moans no more.
-----------
Eight Word Free Verse Challenge
For John Hamilton’s Contest 6/13/2019
Categories:
jolts, abuse, environment,
Form:
Free verse
I accidently let one loose today
I've cooked earth's goose its fair to say
I won't pretend it wasn't me
Soon it'll be clear for all to see.
Who even knew that was a containment field
and an innocent stumble would cause it to yield
its inhabitant singularity
was a well kept secret evidentially.
Til I let it go - chased it thru the door
- hole in one - then thru the floor
Two of the little buggers headed for the roof
they can multiply I have the proof.
Mathematical joy they did perform
Arcing thru cars, pipes, sieving up a storm
flickering jolts of fiery light
following their orbiting trailing delight.
So many now - not long to wonder
til earth's a faulty falling colander.
So, sorry for the whole untidy mess
But I did front up and confess.
Hadron Collider Cleaner
Written 8th July
For Charles Messina Contest
I accidentally let one Loose
Categories:
jolts, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
Lightning
flashes brightly
outside our front window.
Rain's falling fast and furious.
Feeling IT in my fingers, vibration
jolts and loosens the window pane.
Delightful, but frightful,
quivers follow
lightning.
Tag game
mommy shudders;
I'm deaf, but I sense IT.
My sister covers up her ears
awaiting, anticipating something.
I wait for looks on their faces.
"You're IT!" you make me shake
like a sudden
tag game?
Categories:
jolts, 11th grade, angst, light,
Form:
Rictameter
Chipped the factor of maybe days,
Wondering sweet tooth cracked in the night
And the cap spilled parallel, baring the nerves,
Electrical jolts from a tin foil bite.
She hurled back her head and laughed aloud,
So her neck made a finger snap sound,
In massacred leaves and juniper groves
Arched her longbow spine on the cold winter ground.
Strobing snowflakes abandoned in her hair,
Glitter bugs gleamed by a vampire moon,
Hewn blue-rose thighs buried life alive,
In a freezing of flesh, it was over so soon.
A harbour relented, cheaply complacent,
Moonstruck asylum, the member shrank small,
And tucking her womanhood moistly home,
I died for to her it meant nothing at all.
Categories:
jolts, confusion, death, loss, lost
Form:
Verse
His own voice
talks over his head,
as if he were not there.
The load car radio
plays distant music.
Without thinking,
he changes channels,
hears only
the drumming road.
His eyes are low lit,
they see only feet
beyond his gripped hands.
Sunlight glares past thoughts,
he swivels right, sidles left,
soft shouldering unseen corners.
He is listening to a memory,
just a self-driving memory,
The car jolts –
returns him
back behind his eyes.
He is safe now
from all those passengers
he invited into his mind.
Categories:
jolts, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
Jungle's deadly wolf roams,
Jaws tightening as limbs
Jut out from black of night;
Jeering its prey for one
Joust between man and beast:
Jingling its canine paws,
Jolts rip a hunter's flesh!
Pleiades-J Contest of Kim Merryman
3/5/2017
Checked with www.howmanysyllable.com
Categories:
jolts, animal, strength,
Form:
Verse