Best Oddness Poems
Written: February 15, 2024
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I ultimately rule over these stunning valleys,
Elm trees with mossy brows line the alleys.
Where distant peaks arise, calm and azure,
Akin to the strong tripods used for rapture.
Who can't view river stones as viable paths?
A scad of scramblers on spurs stoning laths.
To slay fair faces, who bartered leaden blasts,
And weapons because of their leopard casts.
Who inflicted lasting wounds upon the land,
Those who pursued the avian crowns stand.
Fetched to flatten fascinating flesh but failed,
Who still flies above "fallen Tomahawk," veiled?
From my awakened gaze, I view a world,
Across eyes that bear a black shade furled.
A confined space, restricted and stretched out,
Then I cast a velvety gaze over a dumb doubt.
In a shadowed visage, this is how I mumble,
These walls, built by oppression, must crumble.
I must quit as I gaze upon my unique form,
Through opened eyes, no longer blind corm.
And behold, my unique hands create,
The space exists within my mind spate.
Nonviolent activists avoid causing friction,
Path for discovery, not building any tension.
Yield your tension a flight and let it depart,
God will never strain you over skills to impart.
Stress is only a reaction, probe not to worry,
Oddness from bodies and beliefs is blurry.
Not all stress stems from having a lot to do,
It originates from a lack of follow-through.
The potential increases with increasing strain,
Growth comes with a sense of life's innate pain.
I'm feeling hollow, not due to any sorrow,
Yet, in a sense of relief, each knot fades hollow.
The most crucial factor in ensuring lifespan,
Is staying clear of tension, worry, and strain.
Life is not a rising conflict or a stressful scene,
Life ought not to be painful; it may be serene.
It's habits that induce tension and relaxation,
Cutting rituals and building useful tension.
Today I saw the woman
who seemed missing of her smile.
I watched her there
and we started to stare
at each other for a while.
I looked at her mouth
and heard her say,
“To thine own self be true.”
While in her eyes,
so tired but wise,
my every thought she knew.
She’d felt every feeling
and she understood my pain,
just as if she
were a part of me,
with somehow something to gain.
I wondered if she might go on
with seemingly much to say,
but matching my stare
she just stood there,
so I guessed it would not be today.
Feeling the oddness we looked away,
then I reached for the door.
When I turned off the light
she had gone from my sight
and the mirror went black once more.
~Jeannie Cronin
It may be just a portion
Perhaps a small detail
To get your fire scorching
Or lift your deceiving veil
One tenth of a second
The pressure of my finger
A tangible gift beckoned
It will forever linger
My quirkiness is a blessing
Oddness birthed beauty
Ingredients in my dressing
Don't harm, but rather suit me
I don't anticipate riches
At least, not by formal currency
My prize is within the stitches
Sewn together for you to see
I'm humbled by the art
I have the pleasure of showing
On your wall, Pieces of my heart
A gift that keeps bestowing
Written Upon A Visit To Shanksville After 9/11
Citizenry Of The Soul
If I did not believe there was bad in us,
I would have told you so.
If I did not believe there was also good, there
I would have uttered the words.
The instant of man is suspended upon this. It
pivots upon it as if some jewel on a chain, as
if “the belonged.”
We travel down the gravel road together past
The cornfields, and there a peacock stands bewildered,
by a barn, with eyes like a human being.
Up further are three golden feathered roosters with
blood red combs and, a ram with majestic horns.
Still, further is a reindeer, who hides his oddness in
the shadows.
On the ridge above are the horsemen. The horses are
Pale and beautiful and the sky above is “laid
open” and wondrous.
We travel further and, we reach the field of ghosts,
one single flag in the middle of the green grass.
We sit and wonder at mankind, at the struggle that
ensued there above that field to preserve humanity.
We imagine the plummet of the metal hull to the soil.
The purer of soul come everyday and sit and look out
upon the single flag, look upon the single truth.
The mud clings to their feet.
There is no wind above here or below. But, the currents
of air have odd faces and hands, they make unfinished
turns and curves. They ring bells on plaques.
And, caress chimes, flutter ribbons.
We see the brighter souls.
We know they are this wind we feel brushing our
arms strong – even in their going.
If my usual wasn't so ordinary
And didn't span great feats of generic
It may just be shy of extraordinary
A mediocrity so bland I'm hysteric
Enormity in normalcy's highest gear
Worked out so hard and never got abs
Without an ear my regular cannot hear
I'm the base tested against in labs
An everyday, workaday, 10 of a kind
Fantastically, head over heels habitual
Frequency, ooze from me, for oddness I pined
This middle of the road, uniform fool
An average in math I lack sum of the fun
My highest point is the peak of just typical
If my usual started with "un", not a prefix of none
This run of the mill status is biblical
I'm routinely symmetrical time and again
Burst at the seams in familiarity
A dullery so wild it verges on zen
Like a quietness without any clarity
I've searched the great depths of the known
Looked for an in but found not a trace
For my explicable or scrutable down to the bone
Destined to be dazzlingly commonplace.
As i sit and read your work, I ponder on it long and hard, think to myself Do you know me. Have we meet . this oddness is fair but with the many games I explore . Lets play those cards you say. I look upon your hand and feel a loss. I wonder why my cards are not good enough .Maybe they are, I whisper for it is not cards I play. I throw them in the air, smile and declare i’ve won. Life can be many things but a thought thats delivered can be fun. Whether I know you or not , what you wrote it traveled deep .My face was within your words my heart was bare . The game you played was never fair. and once again I threw it all up in the air .
Thou persevere
Despite the drowning sorrows
Despite—the drowning sorrows
Dear, fate, severe
On you a special oddness
Thou! Perservere
True meaning dear
To you unwavering values
And facing all adversities without Doubt
Despite the drowning sorrows?
Thou – persevere
Despite …the drowning…sorrows
Despite! The drowning sorrows!
Like a mother of many faces
Many countenances
Changing through the ages
What is written is important but more important is the yet unfilled pages
Her hands are pale yet very dexterous
She has to be ambidextrous
She is sometimes a muse an actress
But she can expand beyond basis
Sometimes she shows her eon’s long age and lawfulness
She can be very grounded and strict even if her gaze is endlessness
But when little girl rises in her that is when she is fabulous
She should be perused with fearlessness
She is greatest when she shows boldness
Then she is able to draw on any canvas
She of course always has focus
But she is sublime when this focus is satisfied yet results show oddness
She and her sister magic look at the sun
When their sun rises they will be one
The ancient wisdom will flourish but its fears will be gone
And the humanity will see that a new down has begun
Angel of the odd
Made my face savaging in
mud
Water of happiness
gushed from broken
gourd
Love is giveth,hate then
defy God
With Angel Of The Odd
I sit on a cursed love
Emotional spanks finding
no end
Prospecting a white
where all is black
Selfishness she claimed of
me
With a reason of
unbattered love...
shouldn't I be?
She pays wit bruises
deeper than that of flesh
Punches that ache thy
heart
Class in synergy wit
beauty
One wit features of multi
A reason to blind for d
oddness
And appreciate d being
of dis goddess
Angel Of The Odd
Bless me with love
A revenge with
love,honesty and care
already in place
Man is his word
Mouth wears no glove
More dan 365days i set d
pace
Oh! kneels re weary
Eyes are swampy
Legs re shaking
Head is aching
Body is withered
Throat is arid
Only kisses can make it
watered
But thy HEART still beats
for u
Angel Of The Odd
Even with d death of thy
body
My love remains for u and
nobody
I woke with moonbeams in my eyes,
feeling oddness had passed this way.
Opened a window, with surprise,
saw wee faeries, clear as day,
some rode on dragonflies in play
They danced and spun on moonlit lawn.
That's when I spied a Leprechaun.
As Dawn painted faint crimson gleam,
I saw her colors spilled upon
each wing, and toe, and crooked seam.
Adding to my intriguing spell,
voices, sweet, from treetops poured.
Songs were haunting, almost of bells
Each word singing lightest chords
and not one word should be ignored.
As Dawn's magic turned into day,
quickly my spell just fell away.
I search each day, and, yes I grieve.
I saw pureness in their brief stay.
They come but once... if you believe.
March 11, 2022
for A Magical Spell Contest
by Robert James Liguori
syllables checked with Syllable Counter
Meet the crazy with the lazy;
Enter a space that feels hollow;
Time marks hazy oddness sickly;
Await new face as time swallows;
Misty moments minding message;
Open pages in cold mellow;
Resting movement reaching passage;
Pry life stages in odd shallow;
Here a spiral way of looking.
Intuit a glow that fashions more;
Dance a tribal pace of living;
Enjoy a show in glimpse before;
Appeal to form that functions well;
See the whole norm in art that dwells.
Leon Enriquez
12 May 2014
Singapore
To many recycled tears
We are spinning on mary go round
Round & round
Our relationship is at the lowest ebb
In retrospect i feel our old skool serene flow
Deep in your brown eyes is emptiness
Homless heart ache can relate
Lost someone Or something so valuable
Faith is outdate
Oddness in cold air
Flashback to your cold stare
Cold stare, icy eyes
Spinning, love sick, nauseous
Detox your semen from my veins
This love
Blossom beautiful
Dies vile
Please quit pullin me back
Im your little *****
SPCA cut the chain
Im humiliated but inn denial
This love is sickening
Free Me Free Me
From our insane cycle
Far Beyond
Far beyond the stars and morning dew,
Their are things know man will ever do,
Even as the morning does settle,
There is that invisable tone of battle.
A battle that makes love see God,
And those many whimicials that seems odd.
That oddness that makes love feel,
That most important part that heals.
For if love had a soul to hide,
It would surely make sadness my pride.
That pride far beyond sadness that seems stalled
For sometimes sadness makes a man fall.
That cacophony of little, irritating noises inside me
Finally, tell me how we would pray for forgiveness.
The reckless condonation of a wickedness spree.
That cacophony of little, irritating noises inside me
We have no reason to suppose we possess an alibi.
Lamentation amid spasms of crying and weirdness.
That cacophony of little, irritating noises inside me
Finally, tell me how we would pray for forgiveness.
The reckless condonation of a wickedness spree.
That cacophony of little, irritating noises inside me
We have no reason to suppose we possess an alibi.
Lamentation amid spasms of crying and weirdness.
Finally, tell me how we would pray for forgiveness.
Insanely brave devotion that is never oddness.
Written May 08, 2021
WRITE A "TRIONET" FOR ME Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: L MILTON HANKINS
We used to make music together
But now those songs just don't matter
Kids used to line up to see us
They used to line up to hear us
But now they just don't matter
I just wanna lay down in silence
Just leave me and quit calling
Stop knocking on my bedroom door
I'm moving out, I'm moving on and away
You're right, I'm not happy
So close to being signed I remember then
Met them penguins with their cigars and millions
So close to you and all your nerves
Our oddness made us feel at ease
The room was lit with no shadow in sight
Didn't give a care
Just wanted to smoke up and light
Practices never finished, never even helped
'Cause we was always high
"It's normal, we make music
We see something and smoke it"
You're so dumb, dont do it in the front
So dumb, you just plain passed out
And we never played a song again
So close to being signed I remember then
Met them penguins with their cigars and millions
So close to you and all your games
Now those kids don't know our names