Best Milliseconds Poems


Premium Member Les Cirque des Morts Collab with B J Fitz

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.
© Sara Jama  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: milliseconds, dark, death, gothic, imagery,
Form: Free verse

The Bruised and Rotting Pear

Certain moments make this all worthwhile

'Random' presets left but to defile 


Blink your eyes to see the flash of white

Blink once more to gain a different sight


Milliseconds gazing at the stars

In which I understood you as you are


And in that time the notion came to me

A sigh of love bled out of honesty


The story of a bruised and rotting pear

That learned to dance on wind and open air
Categories: milliseconds, faith, hope
Form: Couplet

Contrary Telescope

Time can be counted in milliseconds
Pay attention
To the cracks in the pavement
Where the sand grains no longer held their cement

The proverbial elephant
Resides in a matchbox of contented intent

And measure by micrometers
The distance of hairs
As a tiny mote floats into a sea of stars
Still wondering where the hell you are
Within the fluidity of atomic constructs
Or thought
To reach beyond all eternal 
With the tweezers of a contrary telescope

So lost in the tiny vastness
The insignificance evaluated by the little presumptuous
Internal sees with a tunnel focus
Discerns the explanatory pores through its magnifying glass

Do not count the blades of grass
Or imagine a beach to be anything more
Everything else inconsequential
Outside the front door

The prodigal elephant
Struggles inside the matchbox of its purpose

While an entire universe contained within a single cell
Remembers how to construct a flower
And each breath is a hurricane
Between the footprints of forever 

Time can be measured in dreams
In all those forgotten hours
Of sleeping
Where the grains of thought no longer held, to their cement

And wander upon the waters of one
The unified electrical fields of creation
With all the names it has born
Still waiting for the sleepers to awaken

The elephant inside a matchbox
Categories: milliseconds, time
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Astral Trip - Version 1

It seemed like
An innocent experiment
Simple enough
I had read the steps
Bedtime routine out of the way
I was ready to start

Relaxing tape playing for ambiance
I was gone in an instant
With zero recollection of
The next thirty minutes
When I heard a thunderous clic
Most annoying signal
The music had suddenly stopped

Overcome with a blissful calm feeling
I refused to open my eyes
Having a very different reaction
Than my bedfellow
Who was quite unaware of 
My little experiment

While he was busy
Screaming and throwing pillows 
At the figure there in the dark
Standing motionless at the foot of the bed

I managed to let slip out
A couple of reassuring “it’s ok’s”
Eyes still blissfully closed
As I was savoring
The last milliseconds
Of my soul’s sudden re-entry
Briskly sucked in 
Inches above my navel
With almost a slurping sound

That was my first and last astral trip
A little too very real for my liking



AP: Honorable Mention 2023

Submitted on October 7, 2017 for contest THE COSMOS sponsored by THVIA SHETLEY
Categories: milliseconds, journey, mystery, night, space,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member The Brain--Your Personal Computer

The brain is an incredibly efficient computer
Compressing trillions of bytes of information,
Registering every impression we encounter,
Analyzing concepts from formation to causation.

Compressing trillions of bytes of information
In milliseconds without hesitation, unrelentingly,
Analyzing concepts from formation to causation
Remarkably, it even functions unconsciously.

In milliseconds without hesitation, unrelentingly,
It processes the continual intake of our senses
Remarkably, it even functions unconsciously,
Outlining proposals, formulating our defenses.

It processes the continual intake of our senses,
All while regulating our involuntary responses
Outlines our proposals, formulates our defenses
Even evaluating the most complicated nuances.

All while regulating our involuntary responses
Registering every impression we encounter,
Even evaluating the most complicated nuances
The brain is an incredibly efficient computer. 

Written May 9, 2022
Categories: milliseconds, body, computer,
Form: Pantoum

Premium Member Les Cirque des Morts, Collaboration with Sara Jama

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: milliseconds, analogy, dark, death, horror,
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member How Fast Is That

My love 
     for you
          happened 
like
     a photon
          strike,
ejecting 
     electrons 
          of desire
into my
     beating 
          heart,
flooding
     veins
          with fire.

Zepto-
     second*~
          a sliver
of time
     faster than 
          the blink
of my
     eye**;
          as power-
full as
     Cupid's
          arrow 
hitting
     its mark
          invisibly.


*The zeptosecond is a unit of time equal to 0.000 000 000 000 000 000 001 seconds, that is, 10?²¹ seconds. It's the smallest sliver of time yet measured and corresponds to the amount of time it takes for the electron to be ejected after the photon strike.

**On average the human blink lasts only a tenth of a second which is 100 milliseconds.
Categories: milliseconds, desire, love,
Form: Free verse

Last of the First Elements

Last Of The First Elements

(H)  Hydrogen is sweet and gentle by design
A nucleus with an electric and positive charge
Found everywhere in nature at large

It lives an ordinary life in time and space
On the periodic table, it simply waits

As #1 in line to start, begins the chart, for other elements
Very stable, not too many threats come from hydrogen

(Uuo) Ununoctium on the other hand, is one of the latest
Of the most recent discoveries as #118 on the table

The last element is #103 "Lawrencium
           (we'll save that for another day.)
           (It's on a lower chart)
These elements are as unstable as a fable 
Precarious things, to say the least, on the chemistry table
Only existing for some milliseconds at a time

Since  Ununoctium was created, not pure or found in nature
Perhaps it’s time to start
A new life for itself as #1 on a new elemental chart 
Of invented elements 

Born in a nuclear reactor from calcium ions and radioactive californium
A most unstable baby from birth
It lives to the ripe old age of 0.89 milliseconds

But what a wonderful life it leads
Don’t ask it on a date
Or say anything about its atomic weight
Too much drama there…. There it is!....There it isn’t…. Unpredictable 
It looks a little like this when naked on the shell
1s2
2s2   2p6
3s2   3p6   3d10
4s2   4p6   4d10   4f14
5s2   5p6   5d10   5f14
6s2   6p6   6d10
7s2   7p6
It is simply divinely designed with a lovely configuration
Not exactly a split atom, or personality with a disposition
Being here or there 
To be precise, it is something rather nice… when in existence

Created on 12/03/14 for -Periodic Table of Elements – Poetry Contest
Categories: milliseconds, absence, age, creation, identity,
Form: Didactic

Premium Member Henrietta Tweedy 1886-1907

Henrietta Tweedy

1886 – 1907

I was always taught that good news puts fat on the bones.
And I was taught by my strict Christian father
That before honor comes true humility.
I remember picking the Valencia’s one summer afternoon
And hearing him say
That the winners in life are the givers,
And that a foolish man always despises his mother.
And after services on Sundays,
I can still remember all of us congregated
In the sparse dining room
There on California Street,
Eating mother’s delectable starchy dinners
With my father in white starched shirt
Saying the “grace” before meals,
And ending the prayer, saying:
“A soothing tongue is a tree of life.”
I loved life and I loved God.
And that is all I can say
Here in my lonely grave.
Except,
Roscoe Settle was a thief.
He was the thief of my heart and of my soul.
He was the only one for me.
And I was the only one for him
And that’s the God’s honest truth.
We met on a Thursday evening at dusk in 1904
And his lips found my lips
His blue gentle eyes healed my spiritual blindness
Like Christ by the well
When he met her,
The thirsty woman from Samaria.
And I saw him on the road to Montebello Heights that long ago day
And little did I know it then,
That would be the last time
I was to see Roscoe Settle alive.
Pray for me all kindred souls of the day.
Pray for me as I set loose the atoms
Of a million milliseconds of human time.
Life demands nothing from us
Except,
To die.
It is the ultimate act of humility.
It is the ultimate act of final humanity.
And I am truly honored now
As the worms greedily gnaw
Upon the fat of my bones.
Categories: milliseconds, death,
Form: Epitaph

Pre-Sex Passion

He 
platonic as can be
only love 
in his mind 
enters passion's 
room, unknowing of the
lust
contained in whom
was tempted by the door
as shoulders stroke
lightly

She
restrained by civility
now freed by passion
has indecent thoughts
gushing, body parts
flaring, her wet
tongue pouring
she stalks towards him
on a prowl for her meal
skin dragged by
desire
pulling her
inch by inch

He
gradually feels 
tender hands
seductively slithering
from his back
by his arm
then his chest
to his abs
and his waist
he moans 
in sheer pleasure
enticed
he turns to her
weak and limp
yet firmly erect

She
inhales his violent kiss
melts from 
searching fingers seeking
sex
heart beating out 
of her breast
pants desperately for
air
never so eager is she
to be violated
head to toe

He and she
remove frantically their
sinful clothes
distressed as
milliseconds go by
untouched
uncared
unspoiled
genitals await fulfillment
of purpose
passion 
grows more intense
and
at last

They
Categories: milliseconds, longing, lust, passion, relationship,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member An Indirect Self Afflicted Tribulation: a Situation Never To Be

My lateness once more has caused me immediate damnation,
and my unstable state, a product of my lost attention.
Overcoming the limitation by doing three person's work at once
resulted to a failed manipulation
of compressing minutes' activities into seconds
just to beat time and achieve punctuality.

Reaching for the door with already aggravated emotions.
In self caution, I knew something was still missing
then I realized it's a stuff I cannot go without.
Oh My God! This means, beginning all over again.
A complication I most feared in a situation like this.

My dwelling place now seem a mansion
as even my bedroom has undergone exaggeration
which at this moment isn't as accommodating
as the habitation I once knew.
Starring at the plain surface of the mirror Table gave no answers
and already praying for the fruitful termination of this trying time,
as I searched among the cosmetic items it harbours.

My next location is obviously the wardrobe
and even with the intense frustration
I was still calm enough to suppress the friction with myself
as I searched each and every pocket of my clothing
which are all hanging in straight vertical position.
And yet, my state gradually reaching exacerbation,
cos' there is no answer.

In milliseconds, my Pillows are in two corners of the room
I prayed for any sort of temptation but not this
as the bed calmly accepts my aggressive search
of my item which suffers an ungodly abduction.
The Investigation continues with a quick scan through my shoes,
and finally leaving the room with no appreciation
which now looks like a ghetto market of a third world country,
a demotion I usually never allow, not until now.

The larger sitting room just increased my retardation
having hope of finding my "Precious" would be mere hallucination
so therefore, I barely did much other than a mere Inspection.
Yet, cannot find its location,
which simply increased the heap of burning coal on my head.

Already tired of exclaiming several holy Indignation
careful flash back and calculations of my previous movements
yielded no results.
"check the Double Seater" was my last thought.
And as I acted in submission to that command,
the invaluable material surprisingly fell off my shirt
My Car Keys!
Categories: milliseconds, adventure, allegory, confusion, depression,
Form: Dramatic Monologue

Hands of Destruction

Within the streets the bodies burned;
No human hand available to put ashes in urns.
What lead to this state was fear, hate and violence.
Rendering everything, normal and known, to utter silence.
Why did this happen? And how could this be?
All that flourished is now decimated, pertaining to society. 
Those who ruled shunted their power and that all prevailed.
Bequeathing metal and chemicals to air, the sky and earth were assailed.
The eruptions, aground, incinerated and seared;
Within these milliseconds, Lucifer leered. 
Betwixt his lips issued a whisper,
His tongue lolling about in a serpentine slither.
“Mere men need no malevolent coercement,
For evil lurks within their conscious contentment.  
The destruction was bestowed upon them and their land,
Not by mine, but by their own hand.”
Categories: milliseconds, war,
Form: Rhyme

Reality: Shadows Surrounding Humanity

I have stopped dreaming about the dilapidating person,
And began to open the vital eyes of the forlorn reality,
Yet, if you observe the time’s dimension in milliseconds
Then you would realise the existence of dark shadows,
Lurking to fish ancient chaste villages for Today’s Special*,
Headlines switching from the wasteland to the desert,
As if a show screening for the mindless masses of meat**,
No sense of life!
And copious shadows still hunt puppets out of souls.

I have stopped dreaming about the pristine person
As I observed the wilderness in the city of Deer AlZoor,
Smiles did flourish in the small villages along the river,
Until the putrid puppets placed their powerful*** hands
On the soon-to-disappear persons of joy and glory,
The puppet’s contaminated minds removing all hope,
A move towards ethnic cleansing was just the start,
No sense of life!
And the shadows plan on barricading the city of Dar’a.


Sunday, 28th of September 2014

* metaphor for trying to find new ways to kill people
** consonance alliteration 'm' and meat is a metaphor for persons
*** consonance alliteration 'p'

and there are many more :P
Categories: milliseconds, conflict, dark, death, evil,
Form: Free verse

Split Second Glance

I smile at you when you aren’t looking.

The set of your mouth, as it furrows irresistibly

Commandeering your face into the desired degree

Of aloof concentration. Chin in hands, you rove about

A world I catch only in glimpses,

As it scintillates through the reflection in your incessant clarity. 



I can see the glaze slipping as you fight your way

Through the glossy clouds that feather in overlapping layers

On your perception –I can see the radiance begin to focus

From the lucid orbs that center your face -unclenching as it emerges

Reluctantly from where it had seeped its inspiration –penetrated 

To the profundity of your being.



I strain to catch that first flicker of warmth –the spellbound rebirth

Of the halcyon element I scorch myself with

Beyond the beyond the beyond –

But never scar.



It’s rending the fetters that closed behind it,

I can feel the crisp distance congeal

As it prepares to receive a dawn –

My face blazes with a sudden knowledge:

For one frozen moment, sluggish rays already frothing

Just beneath the surface, my breath petrifies as I 

Inhale a fear that I will desecrate this magic –

That your perfection –exquisite to the point of pain –

Will dissipate –marred by an irreverent worth.



An emblem of stillness, I rasp over edges of milliseconds

-the tingling plunge that precedes all fall or flight-

Your eyelids lift, echoes of recognition bouncing

As I leadenly raise answering gaze to hem in selfish supplication.

Locked, your icy awe exults without breaking –

You answer my smile, as I gasp through gritted teeth.

We laugh about anything and nothing, I catch hold of my shreds again.



-inconsequential  exhilaration-
Categories: milliseconds, love
Form: Dramatic Monologue

How Nice of You To Call

A manic man sits, evenly, confined, conscious, in his four cornered room.  His cell phone 
rings and violently vibrates! The terrible tone slashed and sliced the serene silence he had 
been anticipating all afternoon.  It was her! The one he was trying to ignore.  He could feel 
her presence, penetrating, trying to get through phone. “Why is she calling—why now?” He 
pondered and mused.  He began to curse the moment and what it had become. He felt his 
body burst in to two and a ritualistic battle ensued, between two beings deep within his core. 
One beseeches him to pick up the phone, while the other tells him no.  

Then it rang again, even louder than before!! It made his temperature soar, his body 
burned, and his hands began to sweat.  He rubbed them on his khaki pants so hard, that his 
legs nearly went numb.  Not before long, his whole body was wet, with sweat, saturating his 
clothes so he tore them off.  Soaking wet, he reluctantly reached for the phone. It rang 
again, even louder than the two before!!!  He created a fist and put it through a wall.

His mind, stalled. He looked at her number, emblazoned on his phone, flashing like a 
billboard—advertising lies, the same ones he’s seen and bought, over and over, a hundred 
thousand times. He knew if he talked, his hell would remain the same, so he tried to stay 
dry, and remain somewhat sane.  As he waited for his vigilant voicemail to save the day, it 
rang once again, much…much louder than before!!!! He covered his ears only to feel the 
drums of war, beating, pounding, profoundly in his chest.  The battle was long and his insides 
raged on.  He started to feel himself finally losing grip, of a stronger, sturdier, “A brand new 
self!” But as the milliseconds ticked on, he found himself reverting back, to a weaker, worn-
out, “I can’t stand myself.” He had agreed that no matter how much he groaned—he was not 
to pick up the phone! So he shouted, and then he screamed! Then another vicious ring 
brought the man cascading to his knees.  

All hope—gone, the battle—lost. With the white flag waved, he gave one last huff, and one 
last puff and politely said “hello…”

Submitted for Rambling's "Act I, SceneI" contest.
Categories: milliseconds, angstbody,
Form: Prose Poetry
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