Best Objectifying Poems
Look closely, feel the harmless heat
enveloping black-diamond
petals in the glistening
garden of glossy geraniums.
There, sprouts rosemary dreams
from an untouched silhouette,
eager to be seen beyond
her perfumed pigments.
Her universe was sprinkled
with starry streams
of gleaming rays,
as she swayed to symphonic
serenades filled with hazel dust.
They may gawk with greedy
glares as wide as the night sky,
marking her with lecherous
objects that only please
shameless eyes.
She was never
in need of a sixth sense
to understand iron glances
that travel in nefarious packs,
with sugar-burnt hunger
washing all over her
unblistered flesh,
judging her concealer
as a manipulative facade,
seeking uncalled-for affirmations
that she never solicited,
misconceiving her thin lines
of red-river lipstick.
Her summer physique allowed
no consent for invasive intrusion,
yet carnal cravings become
unwelcome toxic trespassers.
Their immoral thoughts
believe shallow words
give them wanderlust wings,
while sinister stars in their sky
label her a soulless mannequin,
objectifying her
cinnamon-glazed skin,
sun-kissed hair,
and pecan-powdered~
caramelized voluptuous flare,
with their vehement
voracious desires.
Swinging penetrative thin blades
of opinions from miles,
oblivious to the fact that
she is the sanguine strength
that strolls in silver silence
across spiky swards,
suppressing the pain her
bones have endured with
every whiskering
whistle they wolfed.
There, if the mauve moon and
crystalline constellations look closely,
they would find versatile
mirrors of meaning
reflecting the times
she parades a smile too
comfortable to wear,
for they have concluded
her bed to be a shrine
of blenders and
overflowing thickened blades,
cursed by the biological
sins of Adam's ancestors.
For children, summer is swing sets and slides,
ice cream or snow cones, carnival rides,
the school bell’s last ring as kids flee the school,
hot dogs at ball games and days at the pool.
It’s pitching a tent and eating s’mores,
then down at the lake with rowboat and oars.
Summer’s the chasing of fireflies at night
and telling of ghost tales in flickering light.
It’s skateboards and bikes and just feeling free,
a volleyball net in the sand by the sea.
It’s summer vacation in one’s family car
with stops at motels when traveling far.
It’s sitting on blankets, eyes up at the sky
while watching the fireworks on Fourth of July
Summer’s a caterpillar; we want it to c r a w l,
then turn into a butterfly, the brightest of all!
It’s corn on the cob, and ever so sweet -
the melon the kid in us all wants to eat!
May 30, 2019
For Sheri Fresonke Harper's Objectifying A Season Poetry Contest
A sigh escapes still, immune to overt silence, unabashed...justified
Another teardrop enters the infinite pool of resilience, uplifting...reinforcing
Another hand empathizes--
touching, impulsively putting one's heart unto wounds, alleviating pain
enfolding memories into paper, ostensibly vigilant
Unborn dreams awaiting fruition.
empty streets, impacted pieces: occupied lives, unwavering spirits
Arighting the entropy--
"Not Impossible!" Heaves Obstacled Nation -- Untiring, Persevering!
A lone emboldened seed is planted, objectifying hope,
ushering life amidst rubble,
engaging tenacity inherently within overburdened, yet undauntable voices
Ardently surging, emerging from insidious waves of chaos,
ultimately touching azure
Time effortlessly moves, insensitive to ordeals
nonetheless, undoubtedly healing...
As wings echo distantly, irradiated winds oscillate
blush unfurling light...
Arise, Sun! Embrace the illuminated blossom. Orbit Love's universe.
0330040203042013
11th March 2011
**It has been two years since Japan encountered
such a devastating triple tragedy
of the earthquake in Tohoku, tsunami and
the Fukushima nuclear plant disaster...
They are still slowly picking up the pieces,
so much needs to be done,
so many are still displaced, uncertain of their futures, of their lives...
hopefully they are not forgotten.
It may take long, long years,
but I honestly believe Japan can rise over this, I honestly hope so.
****Thank you David for this enjoyable challenge.
It has pushed me to approach this topic in a way that
I would have never thought of on my own....
Those leaves, like fire before our eyes,
fell down as flames from autumn skies,
then twirled like feathers to the ground
to weave a blanket wrapped around.
Like a chameleon, fall leaves turned,
from scales of green to crimson-burned.
With brushstroke blends of orange-gold,
Bright autumn paintings did unfold.
And like Monet's bold stippled hues,
fall gifts her canvases of views.
May 9, 2019
~2nd Place~
Contest: Still Life Autumn
Sponsor: Eve Roper
Judged: 10/25/2020
~6th Place~
Contest: Objectifying A Season
Sponsor: Sheri Fresonke
Judged: 0/02/2019
Oh, Winter it is time for you to put away your white coat,
and to roll up your tattered blanket once so beautiful;
time for me to put away my cozy comforter;
and my red toboggan still dwelling lonely on the porch.
The fireplace is cold and neglected now,
and the gingerbread cookies have been eaten except one;
my ice skates are of no use with no ice on which to skate,
and the Christmas poinsettia once lovely is looking real droopy.
I am ready Winter- to pack away all my winter clothes;
and have removed the winter wreath from my front door!
____________________________________
May 14, 2019
Poetry/Verse/Oh, Winter
Copyright Protected, ID 19-1144-124-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Objectifying A Season
sponsor, Sheri Fresonke Harper
Third Place
Spring is a colorful salad
Roses are her radishes
Marigold her croutons
Lilacs in her dressing, dribbling sweetly
She is tossed in wind storms
Spring is a tasty salad
She uplifts the diners
She delights the songbirds
She nurtures the baby lambs
She brings greenery back to the meadow
Spring is a hearty salad
She feeds our souls
She nurtures our imaginations
She sings her forest songs
She rejuvenates us in the most heart-felt ways
Spring is our dessert salad
Her birds serenade us
Her bunnies show off their fluff
Her squirrels scold us gently
She brings us such enthusiasm and happiness!
Written: May 18, 2019
Contest: Objectifying a Season Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Sheri Fresonke Harper
Have you asked yourself...
How do I percieve the world,
what is object reality?
What are these sources
of abject identity,
alienating values which
further seperate sensible unity...
significant to whom and what,
obligatory to how and when,
the free spirit of autonomy versus,
past bondage and expectation...
What is the subject matter,
of objectifying principles...
differing as such,in regards to
ethical and moral sentiments,
obviously,the same rules
don't neccesarily apply equally,
schema's presentation of schisms...
what it is,or what it isn't?
So...what is object reality,
but also,why does it differentiate and alienate ?
If one has free access to well being,and
another is deprived of similar opportunity,
is the one whom benefits,made impervious
to the slow decay of others...or,
do we all share equally,the natural balance...
as one concerns itself with progress,yet
impedes the progress of others,
what sort of real progress is being made...
wouldn't that be then,the creation of abject identity?
...and for what purpose,
a ready made low wage labor market?
So,again...what is object reality,and
what does it mean to you...fundamentally,
what do you identify with...and why ?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
" 'till now man has been up against nature,
from now on he will be up against his own nature..." Dennis Gabor
Oh Younger Self!
Don’t be behind at saying what you want,
Just because you never did have the font,
Regression exists in us if we fail to specify,
Objectifying later, our questions to quantify.
Believe only in the people you trust and obey,
Don’t quantify because you’re in the minority,
Remember what you’ve got, media and friends,
Treasure your relationships to make your own ends.
Just be short-sighted, only aware of the now,
Don’t aspire to be godly or sickeningly high-brow,
Crimp what you like but is wrong multitudinary,
And don’t equate true morality with the binary.
Exclude yourself to discuss your mind and trueness,
Freshness is in people who flow with goodness,
Be rejected, make do and accept low facilities,
Happiness is in your real desires and proclivities.
I want to write to be inspirational.
I want to write so others won’t fear to be confrontational.
I want you to read my works and say “Damn that was motivational!”
I want to be the one you seek after for guidance and truth.
I want you to grow confidence that is through the roof.
I want my words to brighten someone’s day,
I want my thoughts to drive one in a powerful way.
Is that bad of me to say?
Is it wrong I want to change a life?
Is it a crime I want to pull one away from strife?
Why can’t I pine after such a mission?
Because you and everyone else settle hurt and change by submission?
I want to change rather than conform.
How shall I accomplish this?
What works for you may not work for me.
I’ll just speak on what the world needs to see.
Men crying,
Girls objectifying,
Teens denying the need to conform,
Women waiting for marriage til a baby is born.
Men using fists rather than guns so mothers don’t have to mourn.
Young love, not young and drugged.
Respect for ourselves as women.
Men don’t just disrespect with their hands, but as well with their eyes.
And yet you want pants tight around your thighs.
If you put as much effort into school as you do looking cute, you would thrive.
Use your mind to maximize.
You wanted to be treated as an equal but you’re too busy finding ways to complain.
If you continue to let your success be compromised,
There’s no room to optimize.
I may not know you, but I know what you can do.
I know there’s nothing you can’t construe,
Nothing except for you.
You can be bigger than Ghandi, Oprah, or Muhammad Ali,
But what I find touching is up to me.
So I suppose I fail to influence and move,
Then again,
Isn’t that up to you?
Flames Of The Evergreen
Rusty sunbelt clench
a rosette of scarlet peaks,
…puffed lipstick trees dip.
Vermilion blossoms
surface on a marooned lake,
blushing a pale shade.
Petals shed to a
subtle red, 'still in the pink',
their ardor of Spring.
Revised: 2020 December 03
Original: 2019 April 30
*1st Place*
your FORMS FUSION
~~Brian Strand
*8th Place*
Objectifying A Season
~~Sheri Fresonke Harper
With practised ease he scans the page
absorbing all he reads
objectifying everything
assimilating needs.
Redistributed word and line
subliminally home grown
presented as original
reference unknown.
The metal of another forge
he promotes as fire grown
this counterfeiting wordsmith
without anvil of his own.
Displaying mediocre wares
he prostitutes the art
successful in his larceny
oblivious to heart.
For words are words
and lines are lines
the plagiarist can’t see
the life expended searching for
originality.
My bathing suit under a sundress
I race to the end of the dock
where my adirondack chair calls to me
A canoe glides by in the distance
and a blue heron is poised for breakfast...
the placid lake awaits an August sunrise
Making the most of vacation adventure
a swim at crack of dawn
an oversized mug of iced coffee
a light summer novel...
Is there a better way to start a summer day?
Published in my 24-page photo/anthology ~CAFFEINE INFUSION~ 2020
AP: Honorable Mention 2022, Front Page Pick 2024
Submitted on May 3, 2019 for contest OBJECTIFYING A SEASON sponsored by SHERI FRESONKE HARPER - RANKED 7TH
Spring sprinkles perfumes through the air
Then from her palette's rich supply
Skims pastel shades through primrose woods
And paints the vibrant butterfly.
A robin fiercely guards her nest
For cyan treasures lie within.
Keen honey bees sense nectar's lure
As scents of floral life begin.
And birds in treetops sweetly sing
To celebrate the gift of spring.
18.05.19
'objectifying a season poetry contest' : sponsored by Sheri Fresonke Harper
I Got a Darn NA Again Poetry Contest : sponsored by Lu Loo
eyeing...
eyes...'eye'
be
seeing...
sight's...'scene'
where-in
objects...
objectifying...'objectives'
means an
understanding...
under-stands...'understood'
ah...
hmmm...'ahmmm'
stans sand
: )
Hidden in plain sight
Enigmatic space abounds
Omnipresence quiet
Beyond skies, below ground
Objects crystallised therein
Of which we too are one
Awareness in each within
As subject, objectifying the sun
Unified space, singular awareness
Flowing through flickering transience
Imbibing from each consciousness
Experiences garnered in this parlance
Dreams within dreams, thus play on
Void in stillness exiting this dynamic play
Each breath released, as we be reborn
We surf the waves, yet do not sway
Thus when subject and object merge
When our will to the That One bends
We feel in permanence divine bliss surge
As the purpose of dreaming ends
19-May-2021