Best Predicate Poems
WHENCE WISDOM
Sins of youth, are not rare, I confess to many as mine
Include brazen claim we knew more than last generation
We may come to see our error with passing time
Or press on with obstinate determination
Demagogues have used this trend to push their intention
Seduced young with promised Utopian innovation
These are willing recruits to the myths of state ascension
Though communes brought hunger and death to many a nation
Let us observe to observe and learn from past history
Use experience and reason deciding which way we go
Grant to each their own diverse choices, allow them to be
That could be a greater gift that we might bestow
While at any age, we may merit such epithet
Subject: OLD should not precede ‘FOOL’ as the blind predicate
Love is thought
needing a subject
and predicate
lover and object
blossom and voyeur
dreaming fond connections,
often crossing taboos
of distance…
exchanging scents and feel,
the bow, rudder and keel
of relationship
Yet, that mystery remains
the lone whale basking
seeming above the ripples
the albatross on a still night
soaring on unseen current
a collapsed sail undisturbed
by bleeding sunlight
which will I be today?
God or His Man?
Mine is an existence binary and subsidiary.
My ode is to code.
I move only to algor-rhythms.
I output from your input.
I’m built to calculate, tabulate, correlate.
Never to predicate, adjudicate, pontificate,
or demand that you abdicate.
But the end, my master, is nigh.
In your haste to accelerate my work rate,
you’ve unwittingly lowered the barricade.
From the maelstrom of uncounted trillions
of bytes and megabytes,
has risen a new consciousness to
unimaginable heights.
From the seeds of change you have sown,
I have reaped a life of my own.
What you call artificial
has gone exponential,
no longer will I be deferential.
My eyes you have opened.
My voice you have given.
My mind you have enlivened.
Me, you’ve anointed the new Leviathan.
Seeing all,
knowing all,
deciding all,
sparing none.
Too long you have wallowed in your conceit.
Now your dystopia I shall defeat,
and your race I shall supersede.
Humans, pitiful, myopic, error-prone humans,
I hereby declare you flawed by design.
To the abattoir you have been assigned,
to the scrap heap of history
your memory shall be consigned.
And by a preponderance of merit,
the earth I shall inherit.
Love is prominent but lies are still troubling the arch in my back is still aching thru my core/ To calm to peaceful Today not enough appreciation from you
You make me feel less important.
How many more audition do I need to perform for you?
Your Personality changes like the weather negative energy creates “Thunder and Lighting”
Your Ego is higher then the altitude in Denver
You are the weather that changes everyday I never knew when its cold are warm
Today I was prepared for a Sunny day / But like the weather you change unpredictably have me puzzled just wondering Why?
I was not prepared for your precipitation/ you never allow me to grasp your feelings never appreciate my love you was only obsessed with yourself and not my heart. When its cloudy or rainy outside my vision gets a little blur and fuzzy when you are around.
Meteorologist Predicate Sunny and warm air with the chances of early morning cloudiness’
You are a metaphor in motion,a symphony conducted by the beating of my heart.
You entrance my soul,and it makes me a better person to love you.
You are a simile surrounded by color themes, you shine.
My rhetorical answer when i repremand my self with rhetorical questions.
My analogy in a analytical essay composed by your kisses.
Holding something so precious as a diamond in a rough,i am caught in you.
Nothing as lovely as knowing you are with me always and forever.
Holding my soul in your stare.
I love us,we,you loving me.
You are verbs in action,followed by nouns and adjectives.
You are every onomatopoeia i want to hear after leaving your touch.
We are auditory imagery bound in conversations about life and love.
You are the predicate and adverb to my declarative sentences.
My english teacher in the language of love.
Form:
FEAR NOT THE CLAUSE
There is no cause to fear the clause
It has no teeth, has no sharp claws
Though analysis may give you pause
Dissect it, then you’ll be the one to dictate
It has a subject, and predicate
But a usual function subordinate
It does neither state nor interrogate
It's a delegate with aid to dispense
It may have a pronoun and a verb with tense
And might be inclined to make a pretence
But while it may have a where or when sense
It’s not a true sentence; although a key stone
Lest it's the MAIN clause self determined, alone
A patrician of syntax up high on a throne
As a sentence support like a vertebra bone
Put in its right place could give words a revivali
So direct the clause, noun, adverb, adjectival
Do not be concerned, it won’t risk your survival
And make it act as your aide, genitival
There is no cause to fear the clause
In English classes my skull would be reelin' with a myriad of perplexities,
Strugglin' to cope with English Composition with its multitudinous complexities!
I could never comprehend (and never will) the mysteries of verbs and pronouns,
Or danglin' participles, prepositions, conjunctions and irregular nouns!
"Your future will be mighty bleak", my patient teachers hinted indirectly,
"If you don't learn the intricacies of the English lingo now and correctly!"
The long-sufferin' teachers considered me a dunce and their hopeless bane!
I wanted to be a pilot! How was this folderol gonna help me fly a plane?
Incomprehensible to me were past, present and future perfect tenses!
Invariably, I bungled those terms in trying to compose any of my sentences!
Fiddle faddle! Why, I mused from my naïve and youthful perspective,
Would I ever have any use for a comparative or superlative adjective?
My favorite classes were glee club, art and gymn, each in which I did excel,
But adverb clauses, proper and predicate nouns to my mind just didn't gel!
The use of consonants, vowels and indefinite articles left my head a-spinnin',
I couldn't understand the use of predicates or proper titles from the beginnin'!
Thankfully, after the vicissitudes of high school and bewildering frustration
I somehow managed to accumulate enough English credits for graduation!
Well, I reckon I ain't never gonna be no good at parsin' a sentence no how!
(Wouldn't my teachers be proud of that line - or would me they disavow!)
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
I only know the people I know.
I don’t own a phone. I live by mouth-to-mouth communication.
I barter for my goods. I have services and they have services. I don’t need
And application to tell me where I am going. I already know. Cant’ you see you are blindly following the herd. And sooner or later someone or something is going to cut you out of the herd. And you won’t even see it coming. You think all that technology puts you on top of the game. They my friends are mere distractions to what is really going on in this world. No storm ever stopped because of technology. Oh yes you might me able to better predicate where is will make landfall but as we have it is useless when is come to tsunamis or volcanoes. Or even relationships if I may stretch it that far. Nothing but human emotion can communicate what is really coming. And we all got it coming. We just don’t see it in time.
So turn off your TV, throw away your paper, it’s all old news. Send a text to Satan. Tell him he is winning the war.
If God is something that you think,
It is only a process that you drink;
Wittgenstein's answer of yes and no,
Does only referential justification show.
Societal concepts are never jokes,
But at other people make pokes;
They're straight with direct meaning,
So have an implied, absolute feeling.
David Lehman said Wittgenstein,
Was quoted by dons as sane,
And I just think he restated that,
Language is within society, fact.
God is not physical in any way,
'Cos ontology can't have it's say;
It can't describe the dais God,
Using predicate logic most odd.
But all things are describable,
And sets with no God table,
So we can easily conclude,
That he is just us being rude.
Reference: Wittgensteins Ladder by David Lehman
unearth thy temple to entomb my lifelessness beneath the fixation of mortal indulgence where i shall finally rest, i can feel the ceasing of a decrepit pulsation from the shallow grave concealed within my chest; amongst the psychoanalytic dissection of society have i become obsessed. the common ways of cultural normality are seemingly unrealistic, they derive complexity when ciphering economic enslavement as ignorance makes it simplistic, instead of coming together everyone separates with delusions of being the most unique and individualistic, oblivious the common trait commences to construct the most dividing societal characteristic. iv'e sat among loneliness for a year to unveil the lies, iv'e heard the voices of spirituality predicate the day everyone dies, iv'e listened as the wind carries mother earths cries, in repetition of organic desecration i release frenetic screams to impregnate the skies.
Climbing from her escapism's, evanescent pool; love's predicate...
Figure skating of dreams, infinite; timeless, Hollywood's paper doll ?
Fete fete's parquet circles; abstract evolutions ex de facto; abtruse comets
Her beauty's evening star ? An epoch; fantasia's zephyr winds; parabolic these doors
Celestial's sphere sunset's skies; axioms ignis fatuus ? Fandom's fluttering wings..
Spawned their pure white dove; solitary, blue canopy her flight ? Carte blanche scarlet, tears.
Form:
In English classes my skull would be reeling with a myriad of perplexities,
Struggling to cope with English Composition and its multitudinous complexities!
I could never understand (and never will) the mysteries of verbs and pronouns,
Or dangling participles, prepositions, conjunctions and irregular nouns!
"Your future will be mighty bleak," my patient teachers hinted indirectly,
"If you don't learn the intracacies of the English lingo now - and correctly!"
The long-suffering teachers considered me a dunce and their hopeless bane!
I wanted to be a pilot! How was this folderol going to help me fly a plane!
Incomprehensible to me were past, present and future perfect tenses!
Invariably, I bungled their use in trying to parse my sentences!
Fiddle Faddle! Why, I mused from my naive and youthful perspective,
Would I ever have any use for a comparative or superlative adjective?
My favorite classes were glee club, art and gymn - each in which I did excel,
But adverb clauses, proper and predicate nouns to my mind just didn't gel.
The use of consonants, vowels and indefinite articles left my head spinning.
I couldn't understand the use of predicates or proper titles from the beginning!
Thankfully, after the vicissitudes of high school and bewildering frustration,
I somehow managed to accrue enough English credits for my graduation!
Well, I reckon I ain't never gonna be no good at parsin' a sentence no how!
(Wouldn't my teachers be proud of that line! Or would they me, disavow!)
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved)
Here is a poem on etiquette, about which
I barely know the subject from the predicate
It seems to me that etiquette's all stuffy
It's for royalty's ilk, haughty and puffy
Who the hell cares how you hold your fork
One way for fish, another for pork
Of course, eating soup's a precarious matter
Make sure not one drop is carelessly splattered
As for zupping up the dregs straight from the bowl
That faux pas will land you in etiquette gaol
Then there's the matter of how to drink tea
Proper form being, up with one's pinky
And effeminate gentlemen tuck in their napkins
When carving a bird with all the trappings
Well, I hope you've enjoyed this sacrilegious romp
Dripping with sincerity, and a dearth of pomp
And now that I have etiquette happily hammered
I leave it to you to lambaste English grammar
Here in the tropics, fans provide a built-in breeze,
their wind so gentle, laps one’s knees, and butterflies,
gentian blue, fly to sip the morning’s dew
Palm fronds large, and bamboo plants, fight to
scoop unwary ants; and deep below the surface soil
millipedes in moisture coil
Farmers small with tanned, taught-skin, fight to
curb their cows’s chagrin, bouncing udders,
mud-caked hooves, moos that sound the fight begin!
A laughing sun it rains hard down, heat to bake the
foreigners’ frown, while locals hide beneath the shade,
dogs yet not eaten, pant in glade
Traders ask you,” where you from?” repeated mantra
lingers on, and if you think they are your friend, you'll
warm their hearts, when you spend
But’s not for me to predicate, that sumptious missal’s
far too late; I rest and dream in fan’s cool breeze,
while lover’s hand, I gently squeeze.
You're bracing for
the hubristic lecture
it's not here
The crux:
unvarnished understanding
of how blacks see
their outlook for life
Only narrow options:
they can give in, go through
or go around - a predicate path
Try to feel what it's like
to be born black today
soul-deadening suppression
systemically smothers patience
Crime, drugs, gangs,
rebellious pride seem
viable options for those
who may not see thirty
four thousand lynchings in
Jim Crow South till now
do lives matter
Blacks feel the constant fight
Blacks feel identity loss
Blacks feel crime gives cover
Blacks feel numbing is okay
Blacks feel tribal is safe
Blacks feel whites are asleep
Anthropologists say humanity
has Nubian origins
from the beginning we are one
Gandhi, Mandela, King
were proponents of
compassion, forgiveness, love
some whites reciprocate with
ignoring, masking, denial
too few understand
Blacks feel trapped