Best Modulation Poems


A Is For Antenna 1

A  is for Antenna

A  is for Antenna, the two-in-one, receiving in and transmitting away.
B  is for Broadband, to fire away on the high speed  digital highway.
C  is for Current, what a beauty, it is all but  free- electron- flow.
D  is for decibel, not the horrible, but a logarithmic unit and a ratio.
E  is for Electrons, the teeny weeny charged particles, so light
F  is for Fibre, or simply glass that passes streams of bits as light.
G  is for Gain, could also mean loss, a measure of what’s in and what’s out.
H  is for Harmonics, often unwanted multiples that are up and about.
I  is for Ionosphere, the  upper reaches of appreciable ionization
J  is for Jitter, Who wants this unwanted, random fluctuation
K  is for Klystron, just a tube which, in the microwave range, oscillates
L  is for Limiter, thank God, the input to a system , it limits.
M  is for Modulation, a  wave-on -wave  super imposition
N  is for Noise, the hated disturbances due to heat’s action
O  is for Oscillators, they  are  from low to ultra high frequency 
P  is for Pulse, not of the heartbeat, but a quick  shot of energy.
Q  is for Quartz, the stabilizer that is piezo-electric
R  is  for Regeneration, recuperating-the- sick- signal- trick.
S  is for Semiconductors, not semi-precious, but indispensable
T  is for Transmission, making   communication finally possible,
U  is for Unlimited Plans, the veritable godsend for the customer
V  is for Voltage, the difference of potentials, one should remember.
W  is for Waves, electromagnetic waves not the ones in the ocean,
X  is for X-rays, against which the engineer should exercise caution
Y  is for Yagi,  it’s only an antenna, not a yogi or a tribal totem
Z  is for Zirconium,   hungry for neutrons in the context of atom.

That puts in a nutshell the revolution
Of electronics and communication.

02 Mar 2013

S.Jagathsimhan Nair

For: Cyndi Macmillan’s “ Z is for Zaria-ABC poetry” contest.

Premium Member The Drums of Time

The ceaseless beating of a drum,
fast marks our days ‘til we are done.
Our time will come, our time will come.

Listen, listen, can you hear it?
Growing louder as you near it,
as men of courage, cowering, fear it.

A distant, daunting, haunting hum,
vibrations of a tympanum,
of time to come, of time to come.

Strings of the cosmic tympanum,
vibrating ‘branes as they are strum,
keep perfect time ‘til we are done.

Drum beats of infinite duration,
a cosmic tintinnabulation,
God’s multiversal modulation.

In resonance the yogis “OM”
harmonics of the cosmic thrum,
that marks our days ‘til we are done.

The poets and the prophets pray 
their words of warning will convey
why we should cherish every day:

Blake wrote with vision, somber, sour,
“Eternity in just one hour.”
Just long enough to smell a flower,
before the beasts of time devour.

Look, to the stars, where we began,
now turn around and you are old.
Go, smell the flowers, while you can,
soon you’ll be buried in the cold.

For the ceaseless beating of a drum,
fast marks our days ‘til we are done.
Our time will come ... my time has come!

For the ceaseless beating of a drum,
fast mar …


Submitted 6-8-2020.
© Eric Cohen  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member How To Find a New Voice

With modulation and inflection I speak
     invariably. I disclose my soul in
     reports and records, a regular chatterbox,
     that voice, it shares with the world
     unabashedly. But when enough is enough?
And how is abundant sufficient?
     How do I disclose  what I wish to state
          in a different manner? See here my
               prevailing challenge. Oh, I am Narcissus,
I don't object to conversing about myself,
               but how to do that less conspicuous?
          I am not a historian, yet I like to speak
     about actual, factual historical characters
I am not an advocate, yet I want to
     be one in the future, for abuse, injury.
          I am not a dancer anymore, yet I want
               to share the art of ballet with you,
          orchestrated choreographies.
     I cannot play the violin anymore, yet
I fiddle to you my love for music.

                                   There is my list, here is my agenda,
                          now grant me a new tone, allow me
                 to declare information to you all in
        a different manner.  Less obvious,
more abstract. How to find a new voice?

***

March 19, 2017 
Copyright © Darren White


Music To My Soul-Silly Strings

Silly Strings

Translations of vibrations, resonance of the synchronized spheres
Oscillation in modulation, sympathetic symphonies that one hears
Acoustic chambers flowing flavors, symphonic strings pull the heart
Vibratory voices making chanting choices at the local musical mart

Weeping wings with signature sings the sadness of the chime
The ecstasy of euphony within the rhythms of the jaded rhyme
Melodic memories healing remedies of the harmonic tidal waves
Pulsations and undulations the new minstrels of riveting raves.



Feb.04.2017
Music To My Soul - Contest
Sponsored by: Laura Loo

Two Soul's Interconnected Quantum

Intertwined two energies in love two souls exchanging acceptance of energies simultaneously in harmony~ foreverº changing the electromagneticº size of the heart receptive? to the :’frequency & modulation obverse same frequency..

?º???º:’??|?º:’SPIRTS:’?

Transmitted continuous-wave;  lower the frequency the longer the pulse the discreet rapid pulse rate; the energy from the Transceiver, functional waveguides, combined to energise, two souls in love polar beauties to energise on Mother Earth giving zero bearing rate, both on the same side of the line of sound & €ngeires closing forever along the same speed….

?:’?:’?:-??:’:-º?€Vo£v€???:’?

Quantum Continuum Perpetuated on Mother Earth’s  frequency the birth of a new baby found from past energies & exchanging memories, DNA..

?¤?:-º??;-:- Spiritua£:’:-:’ ?:’?º

Quantum €ntanglement very much the frequency you~ me an God’s creatures Amomong every Eco~ theaters~ systems º€ng€rgi€s:’ even the Universe..

?:’;-£IF€º:-D0:’:?£?¥£:-º

The Milky Way exchanging energies photon two photons to other galaxy s the universe integrated €nergies perpetuated continuously.. Sparkling beauties interchanging, independent €nergies €ver so interdependent:-:On A system lightspeed blazing duties cosmetic phenomenal beauties universal exchanging from galaxy 2 galaxy.. Continual €nergy potion, of £ife giving Universe Interconnected Own :’Self..* ?

?Universe interconnected?      
            ®O?N~§ € £ F€º 
?{Interconnected»«Universe}?
    Pen's Broadcasting Brilliance 
           21st century's Poet
           #WickedRomancer
       ?  #poet #poetry #poem

How It Works

I’m a string of byte notations
From your CPU
Calculating information
In a blink of an eye, for you


I pull in at the station
On your motherboard
To catch a system bus
CAD, is what it’s called


There's three routes I can take
Control, address or data
Depending on the freight
It arrives a nano later

Two more important parts
On this PC station
Are the (GPU), graphics card
And memory modulation


The RAM is where I store
Temporary numeral data
To complete a task for sure
For you sometime later


The graphics processor unit
Is the place of acceleration
Sending pictures to your screen
In 3D Animation


There’s a special kind of storage place
Which is called, a hard drive
Keeping window’s very safe
Where your programmes hide inside


Now, I can make a programme
But that’s different thing
If you want to learn the basics
Just type a simple string


For those that don’t yet understand
I use a binary code
From the central processor
I then take it and load


So next time you turn me on
Just think and be-aware
I work a lot, like you my friend
And I’m here to store and share


© Copyright 19th August 2013
K.C.Leake


Something To Do

Something to do.
Each time I look at you,
I wonder how it is that I'll fix this.
The broken mind that is mine
can I make the repairs,
Before you lose your interest.

I’m bent from this business
Of begging forgiveness,
while frantically
running around putting out fires.

You are my modulation
as I hold out for hope.
Once consumed by substance
Now bailing water from
my metaphorical tug boat.
Dragging you along,
against the current.
To give up,
would be
Giving the water it’s way.
That’s why I beg for one more chance,
Please stay.

Something to do.
Like random nuts & bolts in a jar,
You know the right size can’t be far.
I just have to dig around in this damn jar.

Something to do.
This is always the case.
My heart was always in the right place.
Complacent was the world around me.
My art,
brought me bounty.
I digress,
and ask that you look
How it is
that you found me.
You could actually count on me.
People loved to hear the sound of me,
But that was before my grounding.

Something to do.
Clipped wings
I dive bombed into the sand.
If I had broken a body part
It would've been a hand.
Mending my wounds,
this is my job now.
One day ill make you proud.
© Jay O'Neal  Create an image from this poem.

A Musical Alloy

The twittering of the birds singsonged by 
As the mum night kissed the new spousal dawn
The daybreak entity by the beadsmen allegiance
Pour forth by the holy water along the river adorn.
Thrown by the kid, the pebble found by the street 
To the river, that splashed water
Few drops dripped numbly by the curls so formed
The kid whispered to his ingenuity and smiled by his quiesce voice. 

The aroma morning breeze by the garden of blossoms 
Felt by the awaken passers, suspired softly by the fresh air
The late city woke up by the quotidian alarm
Tuning the frequency modulation to a baritone cohere. 
Rushed along by the streets, horns hooted at the crossing 
By the foot, the beggar sang for his solicitation
There by the stoplight the cop whistled to control the traffic
The politician in the ambassador with the siren went by. 

Two teenagers spotted to fight on a fallacious note
And the one who passed over, enjoyed with a sarcastic tone
There a group of bunked educatees forgather with a guitar
And played a melodic line that absorbed the whole inclusion.
Lost in the city, the traveler acquainted with strangers
But when asked for his destination, he propelled to be familiar 
There by the midst he heard his yell unheard by all
He rhymed his own verse through his journey sung by his own voice. 

The twittering of the birds singsonged by
As the midday coerce felt sorry by the sunset jollity
The twilight entity by the soul mate hug and kiss
Enclosed by the memories with the birds nested by the eventide.
Felt by the kid, the numbness of the darkness
To the sound of beetles, that phantomed his thoughts
Few spoke with the silence as they heard the cozy tone
The kid then slumbered by the alloy felt rhythmically to his own.

Overflow

yearly grain storage
too tiresome modulation 
over spilling crib

 
shaken a little heaped flat
housewife's face overflow smile

The Colour Guards

"The Colour Guards"



Heaven 
came close to me today

I flirted with the idea of it
outrageously

The Colour Guard
kept changing

The metaphysical poet
spoke automatic its message through me  

it visualised some kind of new Nirvana
shining through electric spectral colours

held aloft 
by the containment emeralds 

the ghost writer 
enticing me to tear from the limb

most high the gilded eye of mind 
ignites through crystalline 

from the lowest of low born dreams 
the sweetest green apple of its eye

so I took a bite and full-bodied 
what was living inside the skin of me 
metamorphasized

I came close to heaven today
it flirted with the idea of me outrageously

it spoke to me in cloudy colours
class not out yet for long lost fellows

more lessons coming in
each room by door behind all numbers

the answers
found within

(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)







"The metaphysical poets were men of learning, and, to show their learning was their whole endeavour; but, unluckily resolving to show it in rhyme, instead of writing poetry, they only wrote verses, and, very often, such verses as stood the trial of the finger better than of the ear; for the modulation was so imperfect, that they were only found to be verses by counting the syllables... The most heterogeneous ideas are yoked by violence together; nature and art are ransacked for illustrations, comparisons, and allusions; their learning instructs, and their subtilty surprises; but the reader commonly thinks his improvement dearly bought, and, though he sometimes admires, is seldom pleased."


nirvana
noun
(in Buddhism) 
a transcendent state in which there is neither suffering, desire, nor sense of self, and the subject is released from the effects of karma and the cycle of death and rebirth. It represents the final goal of Buddhism.









"Listening is all well and good", she said. 
"Watch and learn, read between the lines; 
Morse Code, a gift of Love - for you," she said.

Juxtaposition

Meeting you, Baby, began pain's departure.
Changing each raindrop to kisses and sunshine. 
Can you hear my heart beat each time you are near me?
Can you feel our rhythm in sweet modulation?
Yeah!  Seeing you, Baby, sends my spirit high-rising.
Fills up my daydreams with sweetness enchanting.

Refrain:
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh ... Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh,
I can feel me changing, my life rearranging. 
I love this transition, you juxtaposition!
Life is a passage; so let's go to heaven.
You and me, Baby, forever and ever.
Ah, ah!  Ah, ah!  Oh, yeah.  Oh, yeah.

I love this transition, you juxtaposition!
Living out daydreams with you is exciting.
Dark clouds lost, forever sending sunshine in rain,
Enchanting me, Baby, I feel your love so fine.
Can you feel my heart beat each time you embrace me?
Can you feel our rhythm in sweet modulation?

Refrain:
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh ... Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh,
I can feel me changing, my life rearranging. 
I love this transition, you juxtaposition!
Life is a passage; so let's go to heaven.
You and me, Baby, forever and ever.
Ah, ah!  Ah, ah!  Oh, yeah.  Oh, yeah.

Loving you, Baby, dark clouds gone, forever
Changing each sorrow to kisses with your flame. 
I can feel your heart beat when you embrace me?
I can feel your rhythm when we are juxtaposition!
Loving you, Baby, sends my soul to the sky.
Reality knows that for you I would die.

Refrain:
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh ... Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh,
I can feel me changing, my life rearranging. 
I love this transition, you juxtaposition!
Life is a passage; so let's go to heaven.
You and me, Baby, forever and ever.
Ah, ah!  Ah, ah!  Oh, yeah.  Oh, yeah.

Repeat Refrain
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh ... Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh,
I can feel me changing, my life rearranging. 
I love this transition, you juxtaposition!
Life is a passage; so let's go to heaven.
You and me, Baby, forever and ever.
Ah, ah!  Ah, ah!  Oh, yeah.  Oh, yeah.

Her Window

I’m the shadow behind your imperious stance,
Lurking in the qualms of your history.
I am the murky gleam in your squinting
                                                       …mascara caked eyes.
I am misfortune lain artfully at the floor of your 
800 thread count nest of regret.
Can you feel me?
Do your feet shudder at the touch of the cold in the morning?
That hardwood was a bad choice
                                                              ….wasn’t it?
Yet, as the dew of the dawn melds with the sweaty condensation
Of the night before and turns your window into an opaque sheen of
Comfortable security; you feel entitled enough to call me again.
            …..And your conscience throbs in unison with my ringtone.
Your stammering excuses plummet and miss their mark
Before a well-rehearsed alibi can be properly injected
Into my all too vulnerable system.
A taste like bitter wine prowls unto my heart’s palate;
And my surrogate body wakes to taste the salt of your embrace.
Your voice creaks.
My hand wraps tight around the sound of your
Insidious modulation;
While cell phone towers crackle in apparent empathy
To the strained atmosphere.
 I am left wielding a torpid tongue.
Inferences and implications are scattered and entwined;
My body tries to correlate an action
                                                                ….but I’m stoned.
Too confused to be logical.
                                                     …Too overwhelmed to even move.
Drowning in bloody promises,
with a noose of heartbreak around my neck.
 And as he reaches for what once was my heaven;
I hear a yawn of contentment that almost echoes
.
You lean to your window,
And wipe away droplets of our past;
And I force myself to inhale clarity.
"Goodbye."
-James Kelley 2011 ©

Moscow Shop Girl's Anger

MOSCOW SHOP GIRL’S ANGER

Never knew quite what wind blew up her skirt
Maybe the way I dressed or my shoe’s unbrushed  dirt
Like a woman scorned, her fury knew no bounds
Like when the fox has successfully eluded the hounds
The tongue-lashing was the first salvo in her armament
Couldn’t even get a  word in to show my disagreement
Oh but the extremes of modulation in her voice tone
Made me glad I could see her  and not just be on the phone
For the facial  gestures and the eyelash lashes she performed 
Were an accompaniment not to miss in her tirade as she stormed
Through Act I  into  Act II when the hands on hips were a prelude
To a theatrical show  that simply had to be viewed 
Then the head was tossed several times for effect
And the  brushed hair  floated around in a circle perfect
I’m sure the audience was rapt and  about to applaud
Had they not seen something about her display  which was  flawed
Her rhetorical questions, her cleft sentences, her exclamation marks
Left no impression on her target, like smiling at a dog that barks
This guy, they thought,  must be  deaf,  dumb   and blind
To be so unimpressed by a prima donna performance of this kind?
Maybe he is straight off the funny farm and unaware of  her sarcasm?
Or perhaps he has a weak constitution and is about to have a spasm?
They had no inkling and neither did she : the reason for my lack of discussion
Was simply that I didn’t understand her spoken Russian.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... . . . . . . . . . .. 

Entered in Andrea's  Contest 
SHOW ME THE FUNNY    PART   TWO

70 Years Ago

70 Years Ago 
Riding through the flat ancient agricultural between
two the soft modulation of a stone less mountains
this place has every could green from the dark  olive
to shimmering bushes so delicate it looks like air 
temporarily has taken a green plant´s  form?
Something is missing though an animal that brought 
us humans up the ladder of civilisation: the donkey.
Look into its eyes; know the final chapter is missing.
Those beautiful eyes so full of sweet melancholy 
A resignation of the cruelty of life after serving man
It ended up as dog food for spoilt pooches that are
so totally enslaved by us that they could not survive 
in nature´s hard selection. Is that why we have wars 
to separate the wheat from the chaff?

Premium Member Hold Everything

I thought at the time
It was something by Debussy
And every day the same tune
Those same troubled places
DAY AFTER DAY!

After a few weeks it was almost maddening
The easy first twenty measures or so went swimmingly
But then…..
But then a modulation
Difficult chord progressions
The patience of the pianist was amazing
Endless     calm     repetitions for a few weeks
But then!
Then for days that rush through the easy twenty measures
As though the pianist could hardly wait to drive me mad

Oh that relentless hammering    pounding
Such extreme petulance
Unremitting fortissimo against those same difficult measures!

At last I could stand it no longer
Murderous with anger I rapped viciously on the studio door

Well    let me tell you…..
SHE was the most ravishing………………………………..

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