Best Posit Poems
Naught But Smoke In The Wind
Ethereal is…as ethereal does
Bundles of atoms is what we be
Empty space wrapped in cosmic fuzz
Electrons trying to break free
We be something…just not very much
We’re not very material atall
Just wee Protons, Neutrons and such
Smooshed all together in a ball
Yet we think…reason and wonder
What our place in the cosmos is
Question, posit and ponder
Is there more, or is this all there tis?
Our origins are in the furnaces of space
Our destinies as fickle as the weather
Our lives be brief, but our souls stay apace
…Our atoms fate…is to live forever…
Posit the guile entity
The lost, enters without warning
Mostly death, but severed hearts
Also are placed within its hands
A signifier of painful art
Worshipped by the insane
But longed for by the lonely
And lost, who enter knowingly
This being bends, and breaks
The bones of the weary
And lowers the esteem
Of all those that are still lost
And which have given up hope
Those that bring in the pain as if
This is their world now
He kills the lost
Like it is nothing but sacrifices
To him and his flawless bones
He likes to play with the souls
As if they are a toy
To squeeze and to pierce
Blood escapes their pulsating hearts
The lonely believe they are supposed
To be there, and experience this pain
That the world must crumble
Just like what he does with his hands
Once within his sights
There is no escape
Pain is a mainstay, until death
Comes and take you away…
Russell Sivey
THE MOON AND GRAVITY
The moon is believed to affect moods of mankind
Science says this not a truth can they find
Gravity is a force, call it what they will
Its strength is the way it can push and pull
The moon's gravity affects the earth
Causing the oceans to rise back and forth
It changes the shape of this planet too
But scientists say it affects not me and not you
How stupid a statement can that be
If it affects water in all but you and me
Since humans mostly from water their bodies contain
The logic would point to affect on H2O maintained
The moon pulls large bodies of water up or down
But other watery forms are left unfound?
Scientists who posit that such things don't equate
Might look to their own brains which are in a solid state
Mirror, Mirror…
by Odin Roark
Mirror, mirror off the wall,
who’ve you seen the most craven
of them all?
How portable your travels,
from storefront windows,
to dead-quiet water surfaces,
you remain vanity’s evil sister.
We thrust our egos willingly,
even as we treat you as a non-entity,
a mere reflective surface,
yet…
Your nocturnal savvy--
your ability to slip into our dreams,
to shake the very foundation
of our arrogant consciousness,
our daytime persona of reality,
our screaming reflection,
muffled by REM periods of
answers to questions
we dare not ask during consciousness--
is so perceptive.
So shaken are we upon waking,
our mirrors of self-image we dare not face,
now indelibly imbedded in our inherent wandering,
a revealing only we know.
We start another day.
We pass more storefront windows,
gaze into our morning black coffee,
perhaps a walk through Central Park
passing the mirror-like duplicity of the lake,
realizing inertia and purpose are incompatible.
Our desk top monitor,
the boss’s glass enclosed family portrait,
the spit shine of a supervisor’s shoes,
even the toilet bowl in revealing light,
there we are.
Perhaps we need come at these reflections sideways,
these environments of foreboding shadow,
where we might sneak a view of our shortcomings,
see hidden truth and know it’s okay to ask
questions we are afraid to posit.
But…
Perhaps that’s only possible after we
avoid completely the reflective surfaces
as friend,
as us,
as truth,
as the one we deem as real,
opting instead for the inner person
the non-reflective entity only we know,
the person who knows a reflection
is but a surface defense.
Mirror, mirror…
Keats’ Nightingale
The romantic poets were too early to postulate total atheism,
And so freshened up the church by aligning god with nature,
And I believe they had a preference for nature over god or theism,
Because they never posit him as social with high, tall stature.
Keats says that the nightingale exemplifies nature as active,
As bestowing upon all human beings meaning, sense and worth,
Since the bird’s song objectifies how nature truly is effective,
Fulfilled by happiness, and aimed at contentment and rebirth.
Nature triggers in us thoughts and words to settle and allure,
Offers us our language to dispel pain and find the cure,
And Keats contends that poetry, the credibility of its form,
Epitomises what nature proffers, a receptacle rather warm.
When you feel awkwardly suicidal with nowhere else to turn,
Nature lullabies you into your own sense, one you can rip and burn;
No controlled access freeways, no road signs for your safety,
Only soft, quiet communication that's never guilty of brevity.
Just as nature is beautiful, so Keats claims people as beautiful too,
As he uses the word beauty right in the middle of his nature exposé;
He referred to flora, the moon, the stars, the forest and what seems true,
Tnat song of the nightingale that's for anyone, as this bird is not choosey.
He suggests that light or positivity in nature means movement,
That the soft breeze dispels the gloom and mossy pavement;
Quantum physics does reduce matter back down to interactive particles,
In which kinetic energy can be mistaken for minuscule, motionless articles.
His mentor is the nightingale as part of nature’s whole,
No minister or clergyman to advise him on his soul,
Stillness and bird song scent his poisoned air surrounding,
And it is all but for the silence of that beauteous music, astounding.
Nature does not irritate him when he surmises and introspects,
But upholds itself in majestic grandeur with unquestionable prospects;
It speaks about life, your life, your daily happenings and exotic dreams,
And forever exists for us when sense is just not within our means.
Addicted to your love, No cure; No
question, highly intoxicated, and
wasted, On A stable feed, In my
vein, indeed impaled the skin,Like A
heroine trips, First kiss, I crave it,
I need it, and can't live without it,
may need Rehab, stealing it in,
my dreams,Looking down every alley,
making those desperate calls,
what you got boy, is hard to find,
I think about it all the time,
All stung out, my heart is fried,
can't get you off my mind,
your love; your love, Is my drug,
cause I'm just A love sick crack-
head for you, won't deny it, and
won't resist it, gotta have a fix,
I'm coming for you,don't move,
Gotta snort, your love addiction now,
gotta have that fix,To the extreme over-
Dose com posit in my arms.
Das Don doth debilitate democracy
driving a collateral wedge
deliberately dividing differences
collaborating, collapsing, and collaring
disparity amidst ever
increasing homogenization
extant within contiguous United States
across world wide web for that matter
attested by increased
spike among multiracial
amalgamated enclaves, individuals mixing,
where preponderance of melanin
generally affecting predominance
regarding increasing swarthy
naturally copper toned skin
across vast majority of heavily
Caucasian populated areas predicted
to become minority
according new statistics
located at webpage
https://www.brookings.edu/blog/
the-avenue/2018/03/14/
the-us-will-become-minority-
white-in-2045-census-projects/
predict the nation will become
“minority white” in 2045
which genetic assimilation
also harken better angels
among us to herald
interfaith marriage represent
according to hyperlink-
https://www.npr.org/
2013/04/10/176802652/
til-faith-do-us-part-
the-price-of-interfaith-marriage
close to half of all marriages
in this country over the past 10 years
(this cited for the year 2013,
which mostly increased since).
No doubt, the commander in chief
buzzfeeds into this inexorable trend
disquieting, horrifying, mortifying...
especially white supremacists
decrying, lamenting, threatening...
innocents abroad, and/or naturalized citizens
taking cruel dull liver re: to heart
acrimonious, caluminous, jealous, ferocious...
hazarding, kindling, tweeting
inevitable demographic transition overtaking
North America, and teeming masses
(particularly whose skin color,
perhaps fifty shades of brown,
albeit I hereby posit as
forthcoming second, yet
nonpareil gilded bronze age).
Relatively insignificant disparity
(within schema, asper genus/ species
*****sapiens per se)
people comprise greater similarity,
versus starkly disparate contrasts
between each other,
nonetheless oh bomb men able
enthuses, maximizes, trumpets...
every opportunity to spark
altercations, conflagrations, exhibitions...
animals veritably tearing each other
satiating human blood lust,
where coordination, integration, union...
welcoming brother/sisterhood, tolerance,
versus filleting, fomenting fracturing
mosaic boosts ego
inherent narcissistic tribalism!
For years and years and a few more years, it now seems clearer to me,
That we’ve lived well, in the nutshell of our small town obscurity.
Life has been grand, on two acres of land of which I can’t lament.
Though living tall, we’ve kept things small, even the way our money’s spent.
Back of my mind, I’ve been inclined to believe that saving is good,
And that posit, has led to deposits for as much as I could.
In each account, I put in amounts as if planting a garden,
Albeit these seeds, were green as weeds, but at least I was start’en.
Yes time has passed, three decades go fast, and I’ve watched that garden grow.
Although there were years, where only some tears, sprouted out of each row.
Whether sunny, though not very funny, often the plants wilted,
But anyways, I’d plant each day, now some of my crops are gilded.
Though currently, this economy’s, dire in our nook and cranny.
So much so, that I don’t know, if it’s worth getting off my fanny.
Pardon that line, but it kinda’ rhymed, and sometimes that’s how I roll.
But anyhow, I’m back here now; yes hardship has taken a toll.
New planting’s a joke, like I just spoke, since I have no new seeds at hand,
Now I’ll switch, and dig up each ditch, due to this ill-timed command.
So here I go, ready or no, harvesting long planted cash crops.
For as long, that thrift is wrong, and until things perk up I can’t stop.
Far from retiring, nor desiring, to pick these crops premature,
But there’s no choice, and we can’t rejoice, yet have hope for the future.
Thus I’ll pray, and wait for the day when our countries fiscally sound,
But have doubts, and crops may run out, before Reagan comes back around.
(Not) Regretting Cake
Never ending restrictions are slave driver’s tools a debatable concept wielding
Onslaughts on conscience asceticism zero sums zero size and perfection
To not trespass the segments of cake the boundaries and frontiers rules and
Regulations to not violate prescriptions norms dogma seems violent in itself
Ethics of ingestion virtue Kantian Imperatives calculus of nutrients refrain but
Greed I am not talking about only challenging that second third piece of cake
Reconstituting its shape form and meaning on my hips on my nourished mind
Eat it and have it I do not propose though I posit another round of consumption
To further the cause of challenging prejudice stereotypes and conformity
The cake forms reforms formulates temperate moderation versus addiction
In ‘massa libum’ veritas and in ‘veni vidi vici’ I transcend over the tyranny of
Never-ending so-called scientific nonsense regarding what my cake intake must
Gauge on the scales of truth and honesty desire tolerance and discomposure
Calibrated shackles prisons torture chambers othering of weighty arguments in
Adverse confusion of liberation freedom unregretted pleasure life as such are
‘Khamsin’-like oppression hot air and antidotes to independence to my pursuit of
Ebullition in words feelings thoughts and propositions and in that second slice of cake
05th August 2016
My sparkle is dwindling away,
I am just scouring the edge lay,
Launching the vigor to praying,
Like a dream on this olden day.
Whimsical at loads is bursting.
Nirvana seeps his crux meeting.
He grasped dictum obfuscation.
Scrawled on my ego beguiling
Thus burst in shards of vexation
I posit soothing deception.
Recognized by a focused gaze
Mind that is field to rendition.
Lethargic shifts ruined surprise.
Mental pathway like a sheet maze
Despite bold blowing of the wind.
This is faithful blithe for God praise.
In shackle of land dreaming bind.
Sounds genuine usurped by pride.
illusion bubble with worry.
Is it true to goodness we're blind?
2nd Place contest winner
Written: May 13, 2022
Bubble of illusion Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker
Fundamentalists have misinterpreted the wise men,
Magnified them and blown up their faith in god,
Claim that the magi had an epiphany, heard from above,
In searching for, analysing and interpreting the nexus odd.
So what’s the real story of the wise men,
Because it’s they who had societal eyes,
They were listened to and very much respected,
By the many, the productive and the whys.
There was something going on, a wave, a tide,
To initiate socialisms feeling, equalising bride,
Which let the poor and the working citizen,
Be treated medically as they did not ever sin.
A rebel was born not through experience, but by birth,
To parents out with the marriage contract,
Whose bond was love with natural affection,
And who reared the child on such an astute fact.
The wise men understood Jesus beginnings,
Accepted their power to enable his work and carvings,
And balanced his parents sexual immorality,
By giving reputation, a promise for him to be god on high.
The magi, as Zoroastrians, believed in free will,
That actions are completely yours, not gods,
Not prompted, divine, suggested or derived,
But yours to enjoy or for you to suffer from your frauds.
So as wise men they advocated themselves,
As the finders of the messiah of the jews,
As his pronouncers and original validators,
As the hinters of his apparent short fuse.
I was always taught, right through childhood,
That god told the wise men where to go,
What stance to take about this needy child,
And how to interpret his parents certain know.
Zoroastrianism is the total explanation,
Of the people’s toleration of Jesus Christ,
And I posit that societal interpreters have secured,
Much sociology, which was by them allured.
Tender smile fumes, the vanished touch of yore
Against midnight scream, passion in folklore
Tether thy gaily words. Not a tear loss
Arise ye heads, looked thence before at toss.
Silence posit as means for foe deceit.
Norm thath mandate knees ‘till poseur forfeit;
Smash across bloody, unknown one gallant
Niggle on trust which n’vr malevolent.
Flee and austere, meek wolves escape shameless,
Fight outside pride, hope tributes when helpless.
Oh! Might destroy peace nurtured humble eye;
Obscure fate hung after teary goodbye.
Untold misery haunts. Short lived supper
Unfold all plots. We died unseen pauper.
Acid reflux ~ 7:00 post meridiem September 24th, 2019
Ah... nothing more enjoyable than acidic gastric fluid flowing backward into esophagus, resulting in heartburn, disrupting pleasant dreams, nor unsure how successful literary endeavor crafting poem regarding aforementioned will yield.
While deeply asleep
during late afternoon siesta
above name named date/time,
yours truly immediately awoke
with a start, at strong violent
urge to upheap
I made little or no bowed peep,
but sat bolt upright stock still
tear ducts activated eyes
as if ready to weep.
Sadness less pervasive than fright
since reverse peristalsis uncommon
within body electric regarding plight,
which analogous volcanic eruption
albeit bubbling magmatic flow slight
reverse peristalsis found yours truly
on par with fire breathing dragon ar
goo ably momentarily nonplussed -
while dry cough minus gushing lava
gratefully only smoldered before sim
ring upper gastrointestinal tract did
allow, enable, and provide mouths
full of distilled water quench sudden
unquenchable thirst relieved result
ant unpleasant aftertaste (no pun
intended), yet distilling humor helps
me weather, manage, cope... with
unexpected physiological fee nom
mina - shot straight up within digest
heave tract, and did lament this rick
hitty packet of muscle and bone aft
times susceptible to disheartening
woebegone news afflicting this non
Norwegian bachelor farmer, whom
if the missus cooking triggered bout
unleashing bit torrent of unsavory
plate tectonics, perhaps indicative
of continental drift shrunk down to
miniature, where fault in thee stars
must be held in contempt of court
if for no other reason, I just wanted
to incorporate said phrase, tip here
me got some legal lear'n, when truth
Philly admits he seems to know less,
the he learns, which prompts me to
posit emphatically that ignorance iz
equivalent to bliss, thus presenting
quandary how kin this pronouncedly
reasonably intelligent garden variety
*****sapiens unfetter himself with
cumulative knowledge without reek
horse to invasive surgery such as...
prefrontal lobotomy, or te deum down
smarts some unknown cyber surfer(s)
could easily misconstrue as vainness,
smugness, quintessential pomposity?
The Purpose Of Life
Some say that doubt among many truth’s convictions relieves the questions
relives narrates unfolds the thinking understanding cogitating human being
Too much like cogs in wheels of life some thus respond and posit that its
enterprise oozes soothes from a sense of feeling warmth’s emotion’s intuition
‘Its action good deeds and virtue’ shout philosophers from roof tops root tops
crowned winged elegance of contemplation clothed in ivory towers
Or is it ‘Science’ ‘God’ ‘The Revolution’ ‘A Path Of Least Resistance’ ‘Trying Harder’
‘Drugged Insistence’ ‘Evolution Fit and Fatter’ or ‘Sex’ and ‘Happiness’ Hottest Guns’
A panoply of tapestry and fabricated fabric’s fragrant fragmentation to synthesize
pragmatic hedonism ‘I Want It All And Now’ approaching nearing paradise
The apple of our eyes in cycling spiral’s procreation or might there be no sense or
meaning just simple free and undirected flow of something unbeknown to any kind
Tumbling in the halo while sunshine radiates in love compassion kindness seems a good
design on meaning my purpose aimed at understanding what its all about before I die
01st November 2016
The mountains engulf and embrace me,
Like the sun shining through a window,
Pulverising the darkness and gloom,
With hopefulness and truth,
Making me aware of my possibilities,
Not numerous but few -
Allowing me to choose between two.
I prioritise, and focus just on one goal,
Resolve to achieve my ambition,
Find in myself my actions and am spurred on,
To proportion the gulf which stares up at me:
The chasm flees when normal people interact;
The unsaid but spoken disappears instantly,
Providing me with care constantly.
The view exists as humankind exists,
But while many people beg to differ with one another,
Nature eats up those who can't be edified -
Those who augment it with a god to trace,
Whatever is said, whatever is done,
Mustn’t be normal, easy - natural,
But rather should be contrived and conventional.
That we evolved is dear and liberating,
As a lover who wets her beholder’s cheek:
Faithful relationships soothe our spirits,
Connecting us with nature and public;
I know I came from the mountains and the hills,
From which I take courage, vigour and have duty,
From rugged, sheer beauty.
Is this beauty crude, or does it manage,
The looks of my accusers who bare me?
It dismisses them with assumptive glare,
Kindness gently certifies their stabbing buzz,
Until heaven and hell are constructs waiting to touch:
Which, but for the inside’s surmise, will indeed myself mar,
And but for my silent thoughts, which do the spartans bar.
The view also relinquishes flightiness for me to pour,
Over the collars of the parallel and the same:
Marched in by sociopathers, the directors of freedom;
I receive from naturalism’s stance, it's posit,
Billowing amounts of heart, drive and chance,
And decide to accept the opportunities which will embrace -
In concern - with well-being, affection and grace.
My suspicions, intentions and instincts see the complex,
How it should be deconstructed, with pleasure,
Out with the validated by a clergyman or Christian leader,
Who evince as harder and more boring than nails;
What entails then stimulates on into waving meadows,
And so, not silenced by the silence I sit in having cried -
Feeling accepted and taken - I'm respected to them deride.