Best Practice Makes Perfect Poems
Streets glazed over in wintered frostings,
traffic lights reflect glistening hues
painting this sidewalk festive
As I walk, my breath floats before me,
not unlike a ghostly apparition,
then disappearing waiting on the next
Footsteps striding to the song in my head
“You and me” that is our song…
Chills converge, though not from cold,
My rapidly beating heart sings
and it stays with me, never ending in my mind,
for I dream the lyrics are her words to me
Changing lanes a slippery endeavor
as I cross over the hidden yellow lines
coated white beneath blurred tire tracks,
ruts, like life used to be…before her,
before winter became beautiful
and opening my eyes each day a blessing
Making my way to her door step,
my pulse races between each fluttering snowflake,
perhaps anticipation, perhaps nerves…
rehearsing once more,
practice makes perfect they say…
as my forever waits on me
Reaching in my pocket I remove the small box
lifting the lid I smile at the sparkle,
dispersing the rays of a November sun,
shimmering in my eyes,
now mesmerized by the wonder that is us…
hoping she will say yes
So, how long have you been waiting? No, it doesn't really matter!
I just came in the game to quiet the chit chatter.
And now that I am here, where should I start?
First, I'll examine your head, and then I'll examine your heart.
Did you really think that you had the skill to beat me.
Like a student to a teacher, you should be happy to meet me.
Just be happy to greet me, and get ready to get taught.
My assistance should be sought, for those weak rhymes that you brought.
In my medical opinion, you can not pass this test.
I am the best, and I would hate to have to open up your chest.
But, be my guest! R.E.D must mean Really Envies Destroyer,
But I'll take care of that, as soon as Nate the GREAT can Deploy her.
Maybe R.E.D means Really Easily Done
Your defeat will be so fun, since I am second to none.
I know! R.E.D means Reaches Eventual Destruction!
I already started keeping score, and you just got your first deduction.
But, once I destroy you, I will help you get better.
You must follow my instructions, right down to the letter.
My first prescription is called "get a little back-bone!"
Out of this battle, you will be gone, unless you can change your tone.
No battle is ever won before the first word is thrown.
I don't care who I battle! In the end, I will stand alone!
My second prescription is called "get a little more skill!"
Your wounds will soon heal, but come again and you will get killed.
Practice makes perfect, so you might just want to chill,
Because this DOCtor does not come cheap. Can you afford my bill?
My third prescription is a good one called "get a little smarts!"
Or, get carried away on a cart, if you can not play your part.
When I begin throwing darts, I am aiming for your heart.
So, decide if you got what it takes, before you start.
Get these prescriptions filled, then see me in a week,
And, remember, they are good for the healing that you seek.
They Say practice makes perfect,
But I'm only practicing Emptiness
They say it's because of heartbreak
But really I haven't had the privilege,
The only reason for my heartache
Is I haven't played life's cribbage
Anyone can write poetry;
Only some do it well.
And others fail—initially, at any rate.
Some idea of its genesis may be of help.
A poem – any piece of literature – is
The result of a combination
Of the Idea and the Act.
Idea
It stems invariably from authenticity—
Of perception and or experience.
The Idea has the potential
And the prospect of a seed, of an egg.
Act.
A poem is a process by which
A raw emotion turns
Into an appropriate feeling:
The raw, in other words, gets cooked.
Fury, for instance, may poetically transform into
Lacerating irony or Vitriolic satire.
You are, in this process,
Guided by your taste and temperament.
Your muse at work.
Another transformation takes place, too,
When two apparently unrelated phenomena
Come to be linked by analogy,
To make perceptions clear,
As in the case above—
Where the poetic process is likened
To the culinary process—
The ‘raw’ getting ‘cooked,’
It’s an echo, too,
Of an earlier anthropological text—
Authored by Claude Lévis-Strauss.
As such, it’s determined
By your background and brought-up,
Your likes and dislikes.
And so may differ from person to person.
What happens, however, is this:
The new is related to the familiar,
The unknown to the known.
That’s indeed the job of a figure (of speech):
A simile or metaphor or metonym does it.
The medium of poetry is something like
The cooking medium.
Once cooked, you hardly see the medium in the dish.
You can, however, smell and taste it,
And that makes all the difference.
Likewise, the poem is a delicate blend
Of the medium and the message.
Style is the offshoot of the medium.
It serves a rhetorical purpose
And is also a mark of sophistication.
It bears indeed your stamp and signature.
Learning by doing is the how of style.
Of course, practice makes perfect.
Yet there’s no limit to perfection.
It’s a lifelong pursuit—
As it was for Bhartrhari and Bharati
Or Kannadasan and Vairmuthu
Or Shakespeare and Shaw.
The tips, recipes, and the rules
(say, of rhyme or rhythm)
On how to make a poem
Are more or less like
The tips on how to make love,
Which are all thrown to the wind
Once passion or the muse takes over.
“Though this be madness, yet there is method in't!”
***
I danced a dance, not danced before,
the masses beamed in admiration.
Flames of passion slid along the dance floor,
as my body floated like a possessed butterfly.
But the gingerbread people, old, fat and fickle,
pointed fingers asking for me to dance no more!
Their envious eyes burned with jealousy,
as they were incapable of coping with my fire.
Afraid I would pour hot water on them,
they began to shun me against the masses.
The ignorant followed suit, but the dancers knew better.
Hypocritical gingerbread people then began to dance,
their moves had no co-ordination, no rhythm,
it was sadly a pathetic display of imbecilic prancing!
The masses laughed and mocked, poor hypocrites,
crumbling gingerbread', crumbled into pieces,
their taste so sour, crowds puked with antipathy!
Hypocrites still try to dance today,
guess practice makes perfect - right?
I continue to dance my dance,
in a rainbow of styles, bringing delight.
When you are born to dance,
the heart will make those feet move!!
A sweet scented aroma.
‘’Actions speak loader than words’’ they say.
So it is!, look to our Faith!
He looks at our hearts.
No matter what we see, suggesting,
Honourable worship & praise,
If Spirits; His & ours un-synced,
Is what we do real?
Words speak to us as we sing, ,
& drive out poisonous weeds.
God loves a sacrifice of praise.
Our empty hands declare,
Willing prisoners ‘Surrendered’;
His, to know our heart,
As we hold on for in-put.
The loss of ‘Self’; as Christ.
He uses to unbind others with,
Sweet perfumed news,
Proclaims the glory of His name.
Practice makes perfect?
As we can if we go against,
The flow we see as ‘sane or normal’
Feb 2017
Practice makes perfect
Give it your best
And its definitely worth it
I've thought about giving up. I thought life was just too hard.
Would you quit a high money game, just because you were dealt bad cards?
If you fell off a horse, would you think you were done and just start walking by it's side?
Would you cry and pout or get back up? Get on that horse and ride?
You may not succeed the first try, but there's always another chance.
In life, in sports, in playing games, and even in romance.
Practice makes perfect with everything in life. Work always comes along with it.
You may get frustrated but never give up. Champions would never quit it.
Do you think Michael Jordan just grabbed a ball and dunked it on his first try?
Or did he play again and again? Now it seems like he can fly.
Some are born with greatness. Others work and work to achieve.
You can do anything you want in life. All you have to do is believe!
According to the dictionary flirting is not used for serious intentions,
but to amorously show superficial or casual interest, really?
Can someone tell me why it cannot be serious, please?
Does one have to take a course to flirt correctly?
Everyday, I think I flirt a little, yes I do,
flirting is fun and who knows where it will lead-
Giving the object of my attention a wanton look and lowering my gaze.
Having a backbone is important, not a time to be a namby-pamby!
Infinite possibilities reflect in my great big brown eyes,
just a little trick, lick your lips and smile!
Keeping the conversation going is important for sure, and remember
laughter is music to the soul, and I also
melt his heart with my words and poetry (perhaps a line or two).
Now, I shake my head, fanning out my hair for him, oh lovely he says, and
on my ears are dangling earings beautiful.
Practice makes perfect!
Quoting a memorized joke shows my fun loving way.
Remember to sigh a lot!
Straighten his collar and smooth his sleeve, believe me
touching is a very important flirting tool.
Under the table knock into his knee, by accident of course, and being
vulnerable is another good trick (you can show your strength later)-
Whisper in his ear and linger there, how romantic.
X- rated never, but something sweet will do nicely, and
you can pretend your cold, tremble a little maybe for effect.
Zen, guys love Zen, let them know that is where you dwell when not flirting.
____________________________
December 1, 2016
Poetry/Abecedarian/Flirting
Copyright Protected, ID 16-854-415-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Flirt
sponsor, Lewis Raynes
Twelve Place
life's split personalities refusing to be held hostage by mass destruction
the truth of everyone alive is deserving of living a good life
a global conspiracy for global disarment where no will not be an answer
blind leading the blind if this you dont see
get ready to bounce
slide the prophet
pass the note
switch the slip
society held hostage by the constant fear of this nightmare
of mass destruction
your turn is over
life is telling you to stand down
with a promise to slide into the 11 lives he doesn't plan to keep
to comit suicide in your body and not cry
practice makes perfect
lies of liars lieing about other liars lies
our nightmare is over
or die trying to keep hell on earth
your turn is over
the entire planet agrees
1
2
3
marble my spoon
color the triangle
count the circles
the blessings being mastermined as we rob our own miracle
to replace the negatives with the positives to win in a big way
blind leading the blind if you do not see we were born to live happy
not die in terror of ourselves in confusion
take sometime to prepare yourself
to humble yourself to a god
or die for the hell you are bent on
this is a threat life promises to you
my nightmare ends
life is too short for torturing ourselves this way
lead to your demise by sex and chocolate
our demonstration of sex and diamonds
a one track mind laying the rails
all aboard on this soulbound prayer
the locomation coming your way
Love is blind,
But it can see beyond what your eyes can do.
Love is everywhere,
But it only dwell in your being.
Practice makes perfect,
But nobody's perfect at all.
It can only make ineradicable things,
Out of those human imperfections.
First love never die,
Is there any immortal and imperishable being here on Earth?
Beauty is on the eye of the beholder,
So,is simplicity beauty?
Honesty is the best policy,
But no one do abide laws and jurisprudence.
Laughter is the best medicine,
But still cannot scab one's excruciation.
An apple a day makes the doctors away,
But too much will make you obese.
All problems have solutions,
But all solutions come with another problem
.
Life is too short,
But it's a long expedition of storms,
And a long ransack for conciliation.
Is 65 years too short?
Time is gold,
so,why do many people still exploit and excavate for it?
Time is limitless,
But still too many are supplicating for money.
Love is the greatest gift of all,
But, too much ardor will kill you,
For it is the most efficacious foe and rival,
And for it can make demonic sins when abused,
Health is wealth
And love is all we need
But, can love and health fed us when we are starving for food?
Or can they quench one's thirsty throat when begging for a drop of water?
Education is the solution,
So why am I acting like this?
I am schooled and nurtured,but still negating known lessons,
Making assumptions and syllogisms,
..........Making a PHILOSOPHER'S PHILOSOPHIES!
-----MY FIRST POEM IN THE SOUP CONTEST entry
As a child I was told practice makes perfect
No matter who you are.
Again. Again it has to be automatic.
In order for you to be fantastic.
Listen to the guitar.
As a child I was told practice makes perfect
Listen to the music.
You need to hold that bar.
Again. Again it has to be automatic.
Show them the magic
Of your voice which doesn't resonate from
Your jugular.
As a child I was told practice makes perfect
Don't show panic
You are suppose to be spectacular.
Again, Again it has to be automatic
Just like a habit.
When you are famous and write your memoir
You will be able to say as a child I was told
Practice makes perfect
Again. Again it has to be automatic.
maybe the ones who have left
us early by the malice of their own
hand knew what matters most:
procreation; the evolution of
planetary life amply illuminated, steeled
to survive in our natal fount or
with mastery of the universe poised
at the precipice of infinitude.
the greatest of these is escape
abandonment of the world one
has been born to
and from.
because:
carbon
avarice
religion
atheism
swarm behavior
there is no heaven
for:
practice makes perfect
preppers will kill you
one good turn deserves another
dust to dust
white sky
mystery
tribes
due to:
8 billion humans
5 billion years
smokey the bear
ember orange horizon
super volcano
chicxulub
since:
science
orbital decay
copernicus-gallilei-keppler-newton
rutherford-bohr-einstein
fermi-oppenheimer-hawking
"war is hell"
"mars needs women"
as:
reality trumps fantasy
euphoria is temporary
mortality is enough
i'm writing a poem that no one will read
i'm writing an ur-poem
poetry has never existed
because I'm writing a poem.
If looks and money are what your about
your not getting very far with me
If you believe we use sattelites in space to watch television
you have to be kidding me
One happy victom
center of attention of the brand new dance
teaching his mentors the set up
and allowing them to practice
unbeknownst to the hardcore satanists
we have been watching them all along
practicing our own genre of miracle play
and plotting to trump the hole in their plot
Now they believe in magic
as the media strings them along
i am soo easy to get to
since i am the blind leading the blind
practicing the perfect act
to get away with the perfect crime
this is the leash around your neck
and suddenly it has become mine
Center stage of a plot
where they carry out the joke of me
never understanding my subtle warnings
never fully knowing
there is a hole in the plan
for the world does not revolve around you
and your twisted desires
we did what was right
and will continue to fight fire with fire
Act 1 scene 1 practice makes perfect
act 1 scene 2 an act of our own
act 1 scene 3 deadlocked and now you know
The life around me, fitting me like a glove
a practiced routine
waiting to be noticed so we can play our trump
Spy versus spy versus spy
and in the middle the blind leading the blind
the story of a century you cant afford not to pay attention to
but miss out on it all the time
We told you it was a group effort
to do your bidding mr. powerful renegade
this choke chain around my neck should remind you something
something we have in common
but you didn't know i was refraining from pulling the chain
it's getting harder to breath this unbreathable air
it's getting more difficult to handle the constant lies and drama
I will be fine
just pull this chain
choke you back
we will switch shoes
and welcome to my cult classic
Spy versus spy versus spy
soo many people playing yet too many oblivious for their own good
i could keep this up for your best interest
but thats not suiting me anymore
so we watch you practice your routine
wait for the hole in your plan
and prove it
we are deadlocked
deadlocked
no way out for all involved
I step to the side
you get whats coming to you
i get to move on
They say practice makes perfect
but none can be perfect
what then is the need of practice
if none can attain perfection?
Perfection is a state of the mind
achieved when ability beats work
but not overlooking the debris of leftovers
perfection is unattainable.
All work and no play
makes one think he is better than another
but perfection is still ahead of man
even after he falls down exhausted.
Man is imperfect
when he thinks he is perfect
for man can never be perfect
as long as God sees him imperfect.