Best Parameters Poems
Never satisfied
she passes through the night
of my dreams
demanding expression
seething
pacing
chasing
In my every lucid thought
she speaks....
I feel her presence, and I tremble
I try in vain
to keep her tame
docile
confined
within the parameters
of my world....
defined!
Oh, but she will not obey
Must have her way
her say...
she lurks
she breathes
she waits
prowling
growling...
ever ready
to pounce
and seize me unaware
she is always
always there....
Not a moment escapes
when I don't feel her near
she reveals herself...
in the words I say
in the way I sway
in the way I play
night to day
she's there
having her way
with her helpless prey
to win?
There's no way...
Elektra
is her name
domination is her game
she knows no shame
Untame...
She stakes her claim
She lives
I feel her moist breath on my cheek
I feel her hands make my weak
Her whisper in my ear...
I hear...
oh...so... clear...
"I'm Here....
waiting
waiting
waiting...
for full control
Not a part
but the whole...
I demand your soul...
SET ME FREE!"
Categories:
parameters, fantasy, muse,
Form:
Free verse
Oh readers, may my brevity be realized in this passage
Oh fruitful earth, may you please ignore our credulity
Oh bountiful harvest, may you please continue to feed our souls
Oh radiant stars, may you please not dim for we relish your glow
Oh loving sun, may you please shine into our yearning hearts
Oh blissful moon, may you please stay put as a marquee in darkness
Oh blanketing wind, may you please blow softly on uneasy minds
Oh hand of esoteric mystery, don't close your fist in disappointment
Oh love, I see your everlasting grip of the good
I see beauty in all you encompass
I see you encompass all that is beautiful
Oh love, I see how you walk in the hidden channel of eternal and mortal
I see you shine from each atom, I see you brimming from tears of joy and sorrow
Oh universe, is your magic a byproduct of love, or is loves magic a byproduct of you?
Who are you?
Beautiful are the good laws
Beautiful are the good smiles
Beautiful are the good tears
Beautiful is the mingling of good and natural
But what is good and natural? Beautiful
And what is beautiful? Love
The circle of infinity winds into itself, and begins again
With a touch it is electrified, and with a breath it can vanish
To understand, would require parameters, instead we take a step with eyes closed
If there's solid ground or quicksand is a mystery
In that mystery is where the verve and itch for life swells and dwells
Oh life, it is fun pretending to unravel riddles of your silent gifts, by atom smacking naively
We're swallowed by your breath; by asking why we breathe
When all the while, the answer is the question itself
Oh god, let us bask in your symbol as the totality of existence
Let us drown ourselves in reverence of your labyrinthine eyes
Who am I addressing? Love.
Who is love? You.
Categories:
parameters, angst, appreciation, i love
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
I will die if I wake up in a dream
and find myself on the page of a book.
I will die if I wake up
and find this is a dream.
I will die if I wake up
and find myself on a book.
I would be dead if I awoke
and found my dream so gone.
May be I would still die
if I discover it was only a dream.
I want to stay awake and be up
when come death to carry me away.
I want to live my life on the lane;
the clear lines on a page.
On the fast lane I dwell indeed,
I want to live a thriller and die
be dead and come to live again,
Creating rhyming lines of epic poetry.
I really need to die soon and live fully
in the transformation of light and dark
that illuminates life and death.....
Experiencing the joy of my own death.
If life and death was purely a dream
one that could kill me dead
on the virgin page of my open book....
Then in poetry I would feel the joy.
If the virgin lifestyle is an empty dream
then in death I pray for an open book
which is where I truly long to live:
Painting experiences of my eternal life.
For sure I want to live and die
transversing the yearning lane
that defines the parameters of my poetry
When I wake up and just find myself dead.
Poetry is surely an artistic lifestyle
When you die and soon out you fly
Observing your experiences from the cloudy sky
Then you relive your life in lines of poetry.
Categories:
parameters, art, beach,
Form:
Free verse
Infinity beckons taunting
Beyond the mortal ridge
For time enough to really live
Those longings yet to bridge
I wear your symbol
Pierced in diamonds sharp
On my ears that I may always
Remember to hear you with my heart
Your curve that knows no ending dangles
On sterling chain around my throat
A reminder to fulfill
Solemn promises I have spoke
You rest upon my naval
A charm of infinities tease
As outer beauty gives way to age
Sweet time my youth appeased
Your sign never ending
Like fools upon the earth
Inked in red upon my wrist
Hiding scars when thoughts of life seemed undeserved
What is my obsession O'infinity
Our days so quickly turn to past
Within parameters of death and birth
Experiences just beyond our grasp
If I could overstep your boundaries
Place my toes just over your edge
Calculate your infinite zeros
Owning resources for dreams alleged
My learning curve a continuum
Time to get it right
A touch of love a sacrifice
Those things first missed in darkest night
The caress of your face not given
A smile unreturned
"I love you" remains in silence
In ashes lie bridges burned
Infinity... A dimension utterly unknown
I need you not to fly the sky or mountain's high to climb
This endlessness that immortals own
But to see again those souls Ive lost in time
I hold no comfort of heaven's gate or Hell
Though promises of infinity are all too common there
I just want days and nights unnumbered
For in youth we're completely unprepared
For Infinite choices without wisdom
When of passing days we have no fear
But as the end draws ever nearer
Hearts aching for that which we should have revered
Time becomes a commodity
Too sacred now to waste
Remind me always the quickness of a day
Sweet Infinity, it's why your symbol I embrace
Categories:
parameters, introspection, longing, love,
Form:
Quatrain
6/8/17
Coming in faster than speed racer
Heart colder than a glacier
Trying to duplicate the flavor
Another clout chaser
With or without a pace maker
And bracers
Soft as a wafer
Yet another copy cat
You're wrong for that
Going to one up you chumps, with or without a hockey mask
For ages I've been at the bottom, reaching for the top
More than a lot
Attempting to plot and stir up the pot
Whether the temperature cold or hot
Like it or not
They'll get caught
And put on the spot
Having to pay the cost
For such foolish talk
Regarding any parameters
Days and nights may or may have not been spectacular
I guess there's always been scavengers
And bandwagoners
As well as opposition and challengers
Whether or not their ambassadors
During any date on the calendar
It was either solved or obscure, by any medical examiner
Above and below any fields with or without lavender
Categories:
parameters, dark, fun, how i
Form:
Rhyme
Hear my cry for mercy as I call to you for help,
as I lift my hands toward your Most Holy Place.
—Psalm 28:2 NIV
USHERED INTO THE MOST HOLY PLACE
Morning! Yawn! Stretch!
Arms rise, palms like cups
filled with holy oil.
Praise, thanks to almighty God,
no matter the circumstance.
Who has neither light, food, loved
ones? Who has neither arms, feet,
breath, heartbeat? Any number
of things to be thankful for —
the birdsong, the dawn, sunshine,
the voice of mom saying, “I love you,”
over and over again, just to make sure
that you know it now,
know it forever.
Morning prayers
uttered, ushered into the Most Holy Place.
My head’s on His lap, my tears
on His hem. His hand
on my head. Reassurance
that he is working in hospital parameters
doing all that needs to be done
as His people pray.
Lest we forget in our troubles
to remember
to pray for others, too,
our knees in touch and go
of holy ground
for you and you and you
and “I love you,
too!
4/11/2021
Categories:
parameters, prayer, thanksgiving,
Form:
Free verse
Until pureness and honesty pass,
Leaving pain and aggressiveness as the dimmed lights,
For the intricate works of the corrupt dark world,
Foreshadowing the collapse of the protective shield,
Covering my emotions…
Until timelessness and eternity pass,
Taunting and mocking me disdainfully,
While pointing at the scars and scabs on my heart,
Hoping to stimulate the past,
And misguide the future…
Until patience and faith pass,
Staring into my eyes passionately with concern,
And smiling with contagious warmth and charm,
Extending a hand of friendship and trust,
Consuming all falsities…
Until irony and sarcasm pass,
Frustrated with the parameters of life’s equation,
Shaking their heads disgruntled and disoriented,
As I watch the last of forever,
Disappear in the apparent horizon.
Categories:
parameters, inspirational,
Form:
Free verse
marginalized
again
just a widow
whose family is grown
no longer a central figure
overlooked
forgotten
until something
is expected from me
then parameters shift
I am needed, anticipated
counted on for help
until that window in time
passes
then
marginalized
once more
prioritized
off the grid
of life
~
is it any wonder
I gravitate
to the one who supports me
appreciates me
listens
with his heart
Categories:
parameters, loneliness, sad,
Form:
Free verse
"Love is the strongest force in the universe."
Can this statement be proven true?
If I were to begin a search
And write down a hypothesis
What parameters should I observe?
Can love be seen under a microscope?
Can its depths be plumbed by a rope?
Can its mass be balanced on a scale,
Or its weight detected by a spring?
If only I can find these numbers,
Will I finally understand…?
Why so many courtship end in disaster
Why friendship can fall apart
If love is so powerful
Then why does it seem so frail?
So much of the cosmos is cold and empty space
Like the void within our souls
That love can’t seem to fill
Still, my heart remains restless
Unwilling to make the conclusion
That love is but vain platitudes
That the universe is all there is…
So much of the cosmos is but cold and empty space
But gossamer threads hold the planets in their place
The radiant orbs move in harmony
To weave cosmic melodies
And though the song of the celestial spheres
Are oft too far to hear
A kindred anthem streams
Oft too close to see
So I listen to the quantum hymn
To study this elementary romance
The force so strong it could subdue
The natural repulsions within the heart of matter
And the bonds forged by the orbital motions
Which construct our terrestrial frames
I know now that even in my utmost lonesome
Atomic serenades reverberate deep within
Forever reaching out for a kin
Vast, cosmic energies is unleashed
When elements finally unite
And when I contemplate these forces sublime
They almost seem divine
"Love is the strongest force in the universe."
I think I am beginning to see
How that statement could be true
Love is the seam that binds all kinds of matter
And that love is three in one
Categories:
parameters, analogy, humanity, nature, philosophy,
Form:
Free verse
Inspired by “Poems and Poets” by Anne Winter
“For once in my life,
I want to be a poem” — Anne Winter
If I were a poem
could my poem be a poet?
If such could be done
who besides me would know it?
If my poem—as a poet—wrote something new
could I as a poem be the other poem too?
Or would I simply exist on a document list
along with other poems that coexist?
(As a poem I would be …)
Living on the edge of poetry forms’ parameters
Running ever changing rapids of trochees and iambs
Line dancing varied rhythms of iambic pentameters
da DUM da DUM da DUM da DUM da DUM ad infinitum
Dancing two-step footles with the poem of my dreams
Braving slalom ski runs of Klein’s Vase Verse
Climbing lofty peaks of Heroic Crown of Crowns
Then doing it all over again in reverse
(I do have a poetic license you know …)
I think of such thoughts from time to time
when my muse is confused and obtuse
Especially when finding it hard to rhyme
my head flooded with thoughts most abstruse
What would it take for me to be a poem
vice versa my poem to be poet?
The very next time my muse starts to roam
I’ll try to find out—don’t you know it!
Categories:
parameters, fun, humorous, poetry, poets,
Form:
Light Verse
The night reveals the beauty of your love,
As senses fall, one by one, it’s you I see,
I am below and you – you are above,
A goddess taking all her want from me.
In your embrace you set my passions free,
Yet captive in the power of your eyes,
You hold me here, the place I yearn to be
Where my silent voice can ignite your sighs
Release your soul to fly the cosmic skies,
You gyrate round demanding even more,
As hunger calls clear as the eagle cries,
I know I’ve reached that sweetest, molten core
O love, sweet love, as you now take your need,
My vampyric hunger on you shall feed.
Form: Spenserian Sonnet
Parameters:
Structure: Written over 3 quatrains and a closing couplet
Meter: Consistent iambic pentameter or decasyllabic lines
Rhyme schema: abab bcbc cdcd ee
Categories:
parameters, fantasy, love, , sweet
Form:
Sonnet
Peaceful and relax
At rest but traverse freely
Altered consciousness
Will to access all
Suddenly achieve by thoughts
Radiating oneness
Empathy ignites
As parameters extend
Embrace love without.
Categories:
parameters, anniversary, death of a
Form:
Haiku
So robots write poetry now. Here's what I think of that.
Yer shiny enough, Robot Boy
Yer hard as a shard of rock
You never run out of energy
You and yer digital clock
Sex isn’t problematic
There isn’t an issue, you know
Just wipe you off with a dampened cloth
And then you’re good to go
I don’t love you, Robot Boy
You’re not my one and only
I keep you in the cupboard just
For moments when I’m lonely
But now a ghost in the machine
Has affected yer circuitry
Ridiculous algorithms making
Mechanical poetry
You’re hardly a Parker or Larkin
Your verse gets much worse with each byte
I have to tell you, Robot Boy
Yer poetry’s hogwash, alright?
You’re not making me juices flow
With yer hexadecimal rant
Where’s the amo amas amat
Amamus amatis amant
Where’s the chuffing soul in it
It’s far too formulaic
Give me an unexpected twist
And something a bit archaic
Oh, yer metre’s simply textbook
Get you with yer perfect pentameters
Adhering to all the rules of form
Within the expected parameters
There’s no chuffing joy in it, Robot Boy
In yer tedious black and white
Oh, you’ve cracked me one off one about rainbows (yawn)
Bet that’s an interesting write
It’s not like you want to woo me
You’re programmed to say it like this
There’s zero soul in yer empty words
That leave me as cold as your kiss
You’re not a poet, Robot Boy
Yer not Shelley, or Byron, or Wilde
You’ve never screamed in the wild winds
Or dreamed the world as a child
I’m just going to dump you, Robot Boy
Calculate that, methinks
‘Cos you turn me off with yer binary thing
And frankly, yer poetry stinks
© Gail Foster 2016
Categories:
parameters, break up, computer, humorous,
Form:
Rhyme
As we have all come to know and accept
That within certain parameters we find ourselves trapped
It’s either you’re stuck with wearing pants to rule and impress
Or socially considered inferior and wearing a dress
Well, I for one, fortunately belong to the latter
However, at the excruciating sensation of being perpetually overlooked, I shudder
For I know my worth exceeds that of just another fine lady
A woman who ignores harsh Reality and hides behind a smile, looking dandy
A conformist, being looked down on by what is called a man
So from this awkward position of helplessness, to remove myself without delay is my plan
This feeling of constantly being emotionally and socially dormant
Exhausts me – utterly drains my energy, to be used as a dusty doormat
Then carelessly, I am cast into a sea of vulnerability
Viewed by society as a mere object of instability
I, being of greater value, will remove myself from behind Male’s shadow
For I refuse, the social norm of this world, to follow
Even though seen as nothing, for myself I have respect
And to the world, my greatest strengths I shall reflect
Because I possess rare beauty that goes deeper than the skin
So onto my strengths, I shall trustingly lean
Where man exhibits his pompous ways I humbly outshine
For I am a woman of worth and that, the beauty in me shall always define
As a woman, I am made perfect in my weakness
For I thrive, where man tries his best to impress
Categories:
parameters, gender, mom, mother, mother
Form:
Classicism
Oh I'm sorry I didn't get it,
not to worry I won't forget it.
In order to win, it's not the contest,
but rather the spin. The more stupid
the parameters, the more ignoresponses
from amateurs. The more moronic the
directions, the more sophomoric
the reactions. Could u b more
histrionic in your language
glucolic, never ending of cliché
pre ponderunceses of innane
uninteresting plainjane, U r a poet because u
have PAID the big $$$ dues and have special
powers of words/phrase lifeology. All will be yours
in member recognition, regardless of yr ignonill offerings
according to this site NOTALENTU.
True is the phrase you
really do get what u pay for. (Please don't end a sentence
with a preposition?)
Real words, dimensions come from a place within;
deep, dank, dark non existant and incoporeal of anything reality based.
U can't pull emo tensions off the top like adding cream
to yr coffee. Poetry is a gutterial personification of the fecal life
that inhabited u as an earthling offspring not chosen
to a family of illgotten gain origin. Given the noncapacity to provide the common
requirements for sociosill survival.
All of u can smooch my **** premise, bend over to shake my
gonadal good interntions as u pissprose praise one another
each other as OMG, yr choice of emotional integrity resonates with my
soulful intent to do better in the world. Throw up here. Vomit
victims filled remorse and no coital containment
u must be kidding when u set up these contests and yr stupid
rules that only u r to privy. To make yrself look literate above all others.
U stink like a skunk that is dead in a trunk. Oh the stinch
is so much that my nose I must pinch. Get off yr high
horse and get with the crowd, as yr present purpose I must protest
to LOUD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Write what u feel and For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge
forget the rest. Bend over.
Categories:
parameters, character, corruption, feelings, poets,
Form:
Free verse