Best Mundanity Poems
Wanting to shrug off this shell, break loose from me
Silence that damn hermit, hiccuping under his tree
Trapped inside too long, dormancy dreams to wake
Disgorging bubbly lava, fills in soporific landscapes
Longing to escape soft tissue, cast off mortal bones
Break shackles of mundanity, rid life’s infernal drone
Out there lies all answers, beyond the hermits void
His space mostly perfect, til our Big Bang destroyed
Go forth and multiply, primal stars hypernova like hell
Filling a cosmos with elements, configuring him as well
Hold your tongue hermit, stop humming about in bliss
Stay quiet down that hole, cease fumbling at the abyss
Deeper and deeper, below where basements depress
Sits an altar of incremental tables, poets go to confess
Forget truths algorithm, they’ll fool any polygraph test
And the hermit lies all day long, he meditates for a rest
Breathe in, breathe out, forget about terminal breaths
Don’t underestimate the ether, chants a monk in Tibet
Fill your mind with mindfulness, peace will set you free
Watch them hiccups abate now, our hermit’s all at sea
February 6th 2023 / 2022 Poetry Marathon Qualifiers'
FINAL Placement Poetry Contest / Sponsor: Mark Toney
God is the Lord of all humanity,
And the reason for our vitality;
When we ignore Him, there's insanity,
Volcanity, lack of morality,
Senseless brutality, profanity,
That leads mankind towards fatality;
Today, we're lacking in urbanity,
Because of no open mentality.
To trust in riches is inanity.
Believing Christ needs no formality,
He's the Way to heav'n, not mundanity,
Accept it or not, that's reality.
01-24-17
Some people are convinced that they possess
Accomplishment within a certain art,
Yet sound, impartial judgement would conclude
That they have little talent to impart.
In contrast there are those with aptitude
Who never share the gifts which could inspire,
Reluctant to expend their time and skills
In quickening a kindred spirit’s fire.
Each person is endowed with unique gifts
To be applied, not to be hid from sight
Nor quenched by the mundanity of life
But rather to encourage and delight.
No gift should lie unsealed upon life’s shelf
True talent must be nurtured and unfurled
Enhancing lives which then reciprocate;
Creating an enlightened, vibrant world.
25/09/18
'Parable of the talents contest' : Sponsored by: Holly Hippocampus
PARABLE OF THE TALENTS N/A gifts Anthony Biaanco 7/18/2020
PARTS AND COUNTERPARTS
scrawled on the blackboard jungle, a mural
of profanity – pronouncing women’s names,
their parts and counterparts. reality creeps
from the verminous city streets. the mundanity of
laying out private jewels as a juxtaposition,
where silk and careful hands of morality are much kinder
and richer. but humanity takes hold of a fair lady’s dress,
tearing it off, shredding the human form to pieces,
leaving it drowning, cut off, creating the volcanity of a whore.
of this insanity is born the fatality of our newborn, with
no need for formality. the brutality of drug dealers and
youth molesters pulls the innocents down into the sewers.
they sense, they know, something is not right, but their fingers
slip, their feet cannot grip the slimy pit that drags them down
down
down
no one hears their cries for help. smoke like fog swirls around
their sacrificial heads. their eyes bleed with blue breaths.
the inanity and anonymity of their broken lives unbearable.
the mentality of cobblestone above their shattered roof, flowing
with the vitality of gold, silver and diamond luxury. a boy, a girl
can hear the click of red heels, the laughter of freedom, just out of reach.
he screams, “no, come back!”
she screams, “someone hear my cries, before i die!”
urbanity, so at ease. no one sneeze. no address of poor kindling tied
to the monster’s altar, where malicious eyes and tongues squeeze out laughter.
1/23/2017
Silent One’s Word Challenge Contest
Free will whose
An egoic ruse
Please excuse
Offered clues
The mind body enigma
An outer form we call jiva
Inner layer soul or Atma
All within God or Paramatma
This preamble in place
The line of inquiry we face
From our core at an easy pace
Truth recognised solely by His grace
We the jiva with senses external
Having narrow agendas ephemeral
In joy & sorrow rotation cyclical
Live out a life tragicomical
Our the thus delusion
In myriad of maya borne illusion
Egoic thought fuelling confusion
Mires us in stupor of stagnation
Freedom instant by thought cessation
Resting fear & desire agitation
In restful prayerful meditation
Igniting within divine love bliss elation
However being bound by our own hand
Matrix of life yet we are yet to understand
We ask about free will before we can stand
The light within veiled by mundanity bland
So do we have free will ...
We indeed do if we are still
When divine love in our heart we instil
As the elixir of bliss within overspills
As for destiny
Of mind body entity
There is a blueprint but with no finality
Free will determining turbidity or serenity
When will we be free we hear ourself ask
In effortless stillness getting to the task
Is-ness of presence in joy does bask
Having discarded the ego mask
One day
Any day
Today
Hip hip hooray!
12-September-2020
When I step inside your twisted reality ...
this is what my spiritual eyes see,
your soul revealed in it's totality
A scaly skin of self-serving morality ...
you always ask, what's in it for me,
what can you do for me materially?
Got emotional raging volcanity ...
spewing verbal pyroclastic debris,
you say you only speak Pompeiiese
With your serpentine smug urbanity ...
prefer a gated community,
only mingles with high society
Spread suburban mundanity ...
selling cookie-cutter, debt prison housing to families
with furnishings of faux upholstery
Invest in commercialism inanity ...
everything must be sold is your belief,
even used products with expired warranties
Keep a get-rich-quick mentality ...
you think everybody envies a successful thief,
need only confess to your corporate priest
Suited sharks all have an aggressive vitality ...
eat or be eaten is the mindset to be beastly,
you pick the bones clean with ravenous mendacity
Hiding your lewdness in the cloak of formality ...
giving gluttonous divinations at pagan feasts,
your rented body is the patron jinn of soiled sheets
Cutting all soft hearts with the blade of hard brutality ...
unlock the cages of your rapacious menagerie,
killing souls has been your most primal urgency
Tampered traffic lights creates a mass fatality ...
your hand pushes the button and turn the key,
creating carnage for all to witness your legacy
You pepper life-and-death stakes with vile profanity ...
a seasoned, master provocateur you be,
poisoning the minds with rancid digital obscenity
Rejecting all that is good for humanity ...
cursing the fruit of the life-giving tree,
you rage against the people of the holy
Time to step outside of your straight-jacket insanity ...
the evil that lives within the madness of your psyche
The truth of the cosmos shall consume you utterly
This poem is submitted to:
Contest: Word Challenge
Sponsor: Silent One
Date: 01-30-17
In this new world, the reality of insanity
Elicits frail morality, losing deep values
To cuthroat urbanity. We thirst for quick fixes
And dismiss gentle formality although life
Grants humanity its spirit’s wholeness—
How can greed and power allow us to ignore
Kindness, simple vitality borne from Hope,
Our birthright amid mundanity? Is man’s dream
Caged in temporal inanity where success
Is appraised by materialism or arrogant fame?
Such brutality! We forget the path of compassion
As time forges on in despotic volcanity, while
Children grow imbibing a mentality that existence
Lies in crude profanity based on self-interest…
Where is love in this equation?A doomed fatality
Of modern times , perhaps. I wonder.
Contest: Word Challenge for Silent One
1/27/2017
I Think, Therefore Am I?
Neck cracking penumbra
shines on starlit mundanity
ebon macabre epiphanies
fogwebs of my morality
my tongue twists ceaselessly
trinkets of truffled profanity
dearest mirror, mirror reality
has humanity cursed me?
For the fatality of dreams
bared in broken bosoms
of madness and brutality
masked by faux urbanity
crowns like a dead infant
delivered from its womb
into the arms of inanity
a morbidly, tragic formality
But still steadfast I warrior
heart held bleeding in hand
cur-sed whispers of volcanity
bent echoes of forced vitality
to sever the seams of malady
and hand scribe the braindust
of my cursive minded mentality
upon reams of papered therapy
shrouded by inky black misery
of things thought but never told
to a world swilled in sugar beliefs
of dappled sun and spun parasols
rainbow thoughts and red carousels
while I continue to wander down
this darkened tunnel of insanity
January 27, 2017
Within the humanity and inhabitants of Earth
there is an great diversity of human kind . . .
I have met people full of urbanity with polished manners
formally is their official status-
there are many who use their morality and ethics
knowing the difference between good and evil, right and wrong
to help others, they seem able to grasp the reality of any situation
lots of people have great ideas and mentally think good thoughts
that energy and vitality is like a seed that grows
But I have met people unbalanced, deranged and suffering
from insanity it seems, using vulgar words and profanity
there are full of volcanity ready to erupt like a volcano . . .
Have you ever met someone mindless, inanity is their name
they just lack ideas and their everyday life is mundanity
Oh then are those full of fatality, doom and gloom . . .
But the worse people that I avoid are those who
are violent, savage, full of brutality toward all mankind.
_________________________
January 24, 2017
Poetry/Free Verse/People I Have Met
Copyright Protected, ID 17-868-611-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
The day my life went crazy
I dreamed I traveled
to the Island of Insanity,
when i arrived there wasn't
any sign of humanity,
it was totally deserted and
lacking any vitality except
for an old man who I heard
using profuse profanity
while living in a hatched hut
by himself without any formality,
this was his reality.
In between spitting out his bad words,
he said that the island was once
a thriving urbanity until a tribe of
head hunters of great brutality
murdered every islander creating
a mayhem of bloody mortality,
he ecaped from the pandemonium
while hiding in deep caverns near
an area of volcanity so not to
become another fatality,
praying to keep his mentality,
the lone survivor finally resurfaced,
after several years of living in mundanity,
his appearance was frightful with hollow
looking eyes and a beard sweeping the ground,
making him look as if a creature of inanity.
Fireworks
Dark night, people gather
droves flock, multitudinous
happy hope filled faces.
Young, shoulder borne
before lapping water, curved sails, coat hanger.
Dimples and shining eyes turned skyward.
Pointing gesticulating laughter
fellowship. Distraction from conversation,
a stillness, dimming, silence, initial salvos.
Awed serenity on the ground
fire and thunder,
artistic creation in the sky,
rivaling nature, showing her up.
Sunsets have no volume nor physical impact,
are not so concentrated or glamorous.
Your transitions take too long dear lady.
I have no patience and only see
mundanity in your sunlight,
your water and turning leaves,
your works lack volume and color.
Lift your skirts and begone old lady!
This universal appeal and fascination
with shock wave sound and
incandescence on dark skies.
One of modern man's decreasing worships,
Reverence.
What remains, albeit briefly? Smell
of powder, smoke drifting dissipating,
a fleeting memory dances on retina.
This is not a Great Wall, rather, a Babel
which collapses and is borne away.
Could these firework displays
reveal something of man?
The irony of such beauty
created with fire and destruction
seems perverse ...
a definition of humanity.
Some stupendous lesson eludes me.
©T.Arnold
In fake urbanity, somewhere we lost our humanity,
Respect and care for others, is turning to a formality,
In reality, we are being trounced by the mundanity,
Our morality is now diminishing; it bears no vitality.
Profanity pooled with inanity will lead us to insanity,
Crippling societies, are swarmed with toxic mentality,
Where sick minds attack innocent, causing fatality.
Let’s rise, and save world from the hands of brutality,
And steer the thoughts of youth away from volcanity,
In fake urbanity, why did we lose our humanity?
Jan 24, 2017.
Word challenge - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One
April 19, 2017.
Re-entered for the contest
Screwed XVII - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: rob carmack
How to use these words, I ponder, a fabulous creation of humanity!
Words set to hold man in the cage of formality, guarding it well from inanity.
Words that hurt, words that please; choose profanity or urbanity.
But, the volcanity of man’s nature cannot be contained in a pot of morality.
This is the fatality; an unfortunate reality of man’s mentality.
He dances on the line of variables tended at the ends by mundanity and vitality.
At one end he may sink into insanity while on another he may embrace brutality!
26/01/17
For Word Challenge (14 words) by Silent One.
Humanity sometimes presents inanity
when mentality lacks solid morality.
Profanity awakens stark brutality...
replaces vitality with insanity.
Urbanity is lost in our reality
when our mundanity becomes formality
and dark volcanity leads to fatality.
Sandra M. Haight
~NA~
Premiere Contest: Word Challenge
Sponsor: Silent One
Iambic Hexameter: 12 syllables, 6 feet per line
Required Words: Insanity, Humanity, Profanity, Inanity, Mundanity,
Urbanity, Fatality, Reality, Brutality, Formality, Mentality, Morality
Vitality, Volcanity
The dishes pile up stained with the day to day of life
Her hands are chapped and dry withered from washing them
Dishes of food, dishes of mundanity
relentless dishes calling to be cleaned
Dishes prepared with love dishes for the family
dishes smashed in anger, broken in frustration
the dishes are her forte, she knows the dishes well
her hands are red and inflamed
sore from scrubbing at the remnants of her life
how many dishes has she washed anyway
how many hours of her life has she lost
Unseen she scurries and tidies
washing and drying, washing and dryng
swallowing her rage and her long lost dreams
The dishes are her forte, she knows the dishes well
the dirt, the leftovers, the many requests of her
washing and drying, washing and drying
but nobody cares to notice